#this shit is not slow burn its literally in flames from part 1

[hxseok-honee]

wow im so glad you guys are down for this borderline smut au bc its not really my style at all but im very very excited for it

#im usually a progress slow burn kinda writer #this shit is not slow burn its literally in flames from part 1 #im sorry i keep posting i just have so many Feelings for blossom!yoongi and this spinoff #i also had a lot of caffeine today and have only thought of this so #blossom!yg spinoff

[mischiefmanaged71]

Turning Tables (1/8) - Joaquin Torres x Reader

Summary: The instances where Joaquin and Y/N try to express their feelings and the one time they did. 

Author’s Note: I may turn this into a series following the show’s timeline if enough people like it! So far, I’ve planned five parts. Please, let me know what you guys think. Y/N’s powers are ‘mimicking’ others talents and abilities, SIMILAR TO X-MEN’S ROGUE. Check out my other fic, ‘Bad Romance’ - its not related to the show’s exact plot but its pretty epic if you love action and romance.

Warnings: Fluff, canon-level violence, action, slow-burn

Pairing: Joaquin Torres x fem!reader

Word Count: 3K

“The criminal organisation known as LAF is targeting Captain Vasant, one of our military liaisons.”

The hum of the plane continued to drum in the background as they received their instructions.

“LAF?”, Sam asked.

“Yeah, they’re high powered. We lost contact with Vasant’s plane just after it took off.”, the Captain informed.

“We need you to make sure that LAF doesn’t deliver on their threat.”

You listened from the front of the hanger, strapping on your gear as Sam walked over. His hand gripped your shoulder, pulling your attention away from the straps of your boots.

“You ready?”, Sam asked.

“I have to be”

“I’m your only backup in the sky.”, you joked, winking at Sam.

“Vasant’s plane has already entered Tunisian airspace. US military cannot be seen operating out there.”

Sam knocks on a button, triggering the door’s release. A red light flares along with a siren as the hanger doors drop. You squint your eyes as you peer down at the drop.

“Got it. You guys fly low, drop us off, we fly up to intercept. No treaties violated.”

“How are our eyes on the ground?”, you ask the Captain, adjusting the com in your ear.

“First Lieutenant Torres, our intel officer, will be helping on the ground. And Sam, this has to be subtle.”

“Subtle. Got it.”, he said, before free falling out of the plane. You peer out into the open space as Sam falls before he initiates his wings, shooting him forwards.

You roll your eyes and breathe out a soft laugh.

“I’ll make sure he sticks to the plan.”, you assure the Captain.

You close your eyes, breathing deeply and searching for that spark within. It’s a growing feeling, one that existed from a long time ago, but it's still there. It remains just as the others have. 

Gripping onto it is like opening a new door each time, engulfed by a different skin which takes over. 

It shocks your system for a second and then quickly adjusts. 

Your eyes flash open, filled with adrenaline as you inhale deeply and an orange glow begins to overtake your sight. 

Your uniform whips against you as you creep closer to the edge and take the leap, diving head first with your legs and arms held tightly by your side. Pushing your hands and feet behind you, you’re launched up and against the wind. 

Adrenaline pumps through your chest as you soar past clouds, leaving the plane behind you.  You swoop down, spotting the red suit and wings from a distance as he circles around for the plane.

“Sam, (Y/N), Torres here. Sending intel to your HUD right now,” 

“I’ll be your boots on the ground.”, Joaquin spoke into his com.

“Copied, Lieutenant. How are we looking?”, you asked, following behind Sam.

“Stable so far. I can see Sam. Where are you?”

“Look up, Flyboy.”, you teased, sweeping in a curve and kicking your feet out, as you blasted off to catch up with Sam. A burst of air billowed off you as you’re launched forward.

You hear a low whistle through the coms as you slow down your descent. 

“Stop showing off for Torres, Y/L/N.”, Sam interjected.

“I got eyes on a plane. Any sign of LAF?”

“Nah. nothing yet. But I’ll keep tracking the chatter.”, Torres replied.

“On your left.”, you shot at Sam as you floated on the opposite side of the plane, hovering out of sight of the pilot. 

Laying on the windscreen, Sam glanced inside at the body in the co-pilot seat.

“They’ve already hijacked the plane.”

“Oh, we’re gonna need to call some people.”, Torres exclaimed.

“Just what I needed today.”, you chided, sighing. 

Suddenly, Sam shuffled back and shot his wings out, flying backwards and out of sight. 

“Subtly, at its finest, Wilson.”, you stated, circling around to follow around the back. 

“Tracking back.”

“Okay, switching to Plan B.”, Sam spoke over the coms

“Remind me what Plan B was again,” you asked.

“Red Wing, engage.”, detattaching from the suit, Red wing assaults the door with lasers, releasing it with a blast.

Sam retracts his wings and launches into the ship, kicking Batroc in the chest. Assaulting the pirate with a kick to the head, he takes on the next guy with a right hook to the jaw, throwing him into the wall. 

You glide into the plane, narrowly missing the fist flying at your head. Ducking down, you strike your knee into your assailant’s stomach, directing a fist into his face.  You slam your foot into his chest, sending him flying off his feet. 

Sam kicks one of them in the side, sending them towards you as you roundhouse kick him through the only exit.

Sudden light fills your vision as bullets rain down. Bullets ricochet off of The Falcon suit but the wings shield the both of you. Suddenly the plane tips forwards, sending you all flying up. Tucking yourself in, you strike the ground, manoeuvring to grab a hold of Vasant as the plane continues to drift downwards. 

Kneeling down, you placed your hands on his shoulders, tugging him into a seated position. 

“Captain Vasant, let’s get you out of here.”, you said.

Your next movements are interrupted with a kick to your back, forcing you into a wall. Groaning, you look at your attacker, backing up as he approaches with raised fists. 

Batroc lunges at you with a swipe but you dodge, aiming a kick at his knee. He swipes his leg in a circle to knock your off your feet and slam you into the floor. You’re quick to roll over and dodge another kick to the abdomen and cart behind him. Launching yourself on his back, you grip your legs tightly around his neck and vault him over you. 

Batroc huffs, jumping up to strike his leg down on you but he’s intercepted by Sam’s kick to his chest which knocks him backwards.

Now that Batroc was occupied, you pursued the men holding Vasant. Fire brewing between your palms, you form a lasso, sweeping and snatching the leg of the man gripping Vasant’s arm. Wrenching your arm backwards, the man smacks the floor and you’ve caught their attention. One of them tugs a gun from his belt, fire off a round which you flick away with a hand. A massive blast ignites, sending you hard on your back. Your ears ring as you grip your throbbing head. 

Glancing up, you see the remaining agents clad in gear, jumping with Vasant strapped to one of them.

Batroc empties his entire clip on Sam who dodges behind his wings. With a smirk, Batroc slips on his helmet and leaps from the plane. 

Only a glance shared between the two of you, you and Sam leap from the plane. Diving forwards, you flip and kick your feet together to soar towards the descending pirates. They continue to shoot at you but Sam swings around and pulls his parachute. 

You pursue Batroc, following as Sam propels with skill through the canyon. The gaps become narrower until you’re dropping to miss incoming helicopter machine-gunfire. Swerving around rock formations, a plane follows your path as another pursues Sam.

“All subtlety has gone to shit by this point,” your voice portrayed little of the anxiety now rising in your chest.

“Redwing, get them off our ass!”, Sam yelled as Redwing ejected and launched missiles at the helicopter’s engine, bringing it down with an explosion.

“Y/N, you alright up there?”, Joaquin’s voice filtered through your com.

“Well, I’m being trailed by machine gunfire so not too bad.”, you sarcastically retorted. 

Darting upwards, you jet yourself upwards to cart over the plane and behind it. Gripping your palms together, you position your index fingers in-line with the engine and a ball of energy explodes. The craft blows up in smoke and fire as you whoop.

“OH! Ha Ha”, Joaquin laughed in exhilaration, looking through his binoculars.

Finally spotting the last aircraft with Batroc and Vasant, you bolt for the craft, Sam behind you. The man beside them pulls out a missile launcher, you’re close enough that if you dodge, Sam will be hit. Bracing with your hands crossed, a light barrier shields you as explosion hits you. You’re blasted backwards, rocketing to the ground.

Sam ducks around the smoke, “Y/N!”

Your back collides with a rocky surface and an intense pain pulses through you as your vision clouds.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you okay? Can you hear me?”, Joaquin shouted.

“...Feeling a bit rough, gimme a minute.”, you whispered, rolling to lean on your elbows.

There are mere minutes before Batroc crosses the Libyan border with Captain Vasant.

“All right, heads up! You’re about to fly into Libyan airspace.” 

“And I assume they have a problem with that?”

“Yeah, yeah, a big problem. A big problem.”, Joaquin emphasised, nodding his head frantically.

“How long I got?”, Sam asks

“Ninety seconds.”

Missiles explode around Sam, knocking him from side to side. He’s barely dodging them when a pillar of flames zips behind him and through the aircraft, ripping it in two to reveal your hovering figure. 

“I said I had your ass.”, you chided with a smirk.

Joaquin’s voice shouts through the coms, “Sam! We got to call it off! We gotta find another way!”, Joaquin yells.

“I just did.”, he answered smugly as he retracted his wings and grabbed Vasant before the final missiles destroyed the craft.

“WOOH!”, you yelled as you descended to the ground.

You spot Joaquin cheering and pumping his fist in the air excitedly. Your smile grows wider as you chuckle at his excitement. Your feet meet the ground as you land, kicking up dirt with it.

“One hell of a mission, Torres.”

“You were incredible out there. Are you okay? You were quite literally hit with a missile. Then again, how are you even standing?”, Joaquin worried, gripping your shoulders.

“I’ll be fine. It’s my invulnerability.”, you brushed it off but your breath hitched as you gripped your back.

“Invulnerability or not, there’s no way you're getting back to base on your own.”, he guided your waist to the passenger side, opening the door for you to climb in. 

You sighed in relief as you sat, 

“Thank you, but I'd be fine to fly back, I’ve done it before.”

“What? You’ve been shot with a missile before?!”, he exclaimed in shock. 

You chuckled at the pure look of concern on his face, 

“Avenger, remember Flyboy?", you pointed at your chest.

“Yeah, how could I forget?”, he let out a breathy laugh.

*** 

Tunisia

Sat in an outdoor café, the streets are bustling with music and chatter. After the mission, you all needed a bit of calm. Joaquin returns with a tray of tea for you all.

He placed a cup in front of you.

“Thanks.”, you smiled up at him as he sighed and sat between you and Sam who was fixing Redwing’s circuiting.

Joaquin pointed towards the wiring, 

“You could try to reroute that to the other…”

“Hey, could you not?”

Sam nudges his hands away, eliciting a chuckle from you as you leaned your head on your palm. 

“Oh.”, Joaquin chuckles and backs off, making eye contact with you at Sam’s remark.

“I’ve been working with the Air Force for six months now. Every time ops touches him, he gets all glitchy.”

“Well, you know, those poor techs can’t keep up with a billion returning IP addresses and your sick-ass Stark level tech.”

You all laugh at that reality. The world you live in is stranger than just advanced tech when you can wield fire in one hand and break someone’s wrist in the other.

Joaquin looked at you, 

“You feelin’ better?”

“Yes. I’m fine, don’t worry. Sam, will you tell him, I’m fine.”

“She’s fine. I’ve seen the woman take on Iron Man’s pulsar rays head-on.”

But Joaquin’s gaze continues to flicker back to the open gash on your forehead.

“Hehehey! Avengers! Assalama!”, a Tunisian man approached your table, addressing Sam in Arabic.

What surprised you both was Sam’s response.

Joaquin pointed his phone at Sam, “He knows Arabic.”

“Your pronunciation is incredible, Wilson.”, you fired towards him, leaning forwards.

“Wait, can you say that again? Hold on a sec.”, Joaquin teased.

“All right. Come on.”

Joaquin let out a breathy laugh, rising from his seat to scan the area with his phone.

“These LAF crews, they’re tryin’ to take advantage of all the chaos and make some money. And that I get, but there’s…”

“Whatcha doin?”, you asked.

“Oh, bam! Right there!”, Joaquin stopped, leaning over you to show his screen to you and Sam. He was close enough that you felt flustered as your cheeks began to burn. Hovering on the screen was a red image of a hand holding the Earth.

“You see these guys? They’re guys you gotta worry about. I’ve been stumbling onto their manifestos on message boards. They're called the Flag Smashers.”

“I swear, everybody’s got a gimmick.”, you remarked, looking at Sam with a knowing look. You’d been in the game since you discovered your abilities at the age of fourteen.

“Is that a new thing? Bad guys give themselves bad names.”

“There’s a lot worse names than that one.”, Joaquin’s eyebrows  perked up.

You creased your eyes, wondering, how it could get any worse than ‘Flag Smashers’. 

“But basically, they think that the world was better during The Blip. Trust me, it wasn’t.”

You sigh, eyes cast down on the table as you think over it. 

Five years. 

All of your friends and family who remained had moved on for five years without you, thinking you were dead. That was, until the living Avengers fought to bring everyone back. Although, not without losing a few in the process.

“Trust me. Every time something gets better for one group, it's worse for another.”, Sam stated.

“Yeah. Essentially, these people, they want a world that’s unified without borders. So you could see why a lot of people are into that.”

“Yeah, keep an eye on it. If anything gets serious, you let me know.”

A massive grin spread over Joaquin’s features,

“No doubt. I’ll...I’ll, uh...I’ll track the online chatter, see what they’re saying.”

You smile at Joaquin’s eager nature and pure smile. It was cute how he went from First Lieutenant to fanboy in mere seconds.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, urging your attention. You gripped Joaquin’s shoulder as you stood to take the call,

“I’ll be right back.”

Sam had a knowing look on his face as he looked from the hand you rested on Joaquin’s shoulder to the affection in Joaquin’s eyes as you drifted off to the side.

“This is Y/N.”, you answered.

Silence reverberated from the caller’s end.

“Hello?”

“Y/N...It’s...It’s Bucky.”

“Hey, how are you doing?”, you crossed your arms, still gripping the phone in one hand.

“I’m fine.”

“How’s therapy going?” 

“It’s going...The usual, you know?”

“Bucky...you know that I’m always here, right? Whenever you want to talk or just sit in silence, I’m there.”

“Yeah I know.”, he whispered on the other end, leaning against his couch on the floor.

“I mean it. My doors are always open. Not literally, but who’s going to mess with little ol’ me?”, you joked.

Bucky let out a breathy laugh, 

“Thanks.”

“No need to thank me, Buck. Just take care of yourself, okay?”, you looked over at the boys who stared back at you as you crept closer to the table.

You heard Bucky sigh, 

“When do you get back?”

“Sam and I depart soon so I should be back in the States by tomorrow.”

“Alright, take care...Bye, Y/N.”

“See you soon, Buck.”, you ended the call.

“Was that Buckaroo?”, Sam asked as you sat down.

You rolled your eyes, 

“Yes, it was.”

Sam turned his head in confusion, 

“I’ve been tryin’ to get that man to answer my texts for weeks and nothing. How did you get him to call you?”

Sam saw the smile retreat from Joaquin’s face at the mention.

“I guess we’re closer than you are. Also, could be the fact you call him names like - Oh, I don’t know - Cyborg, Terminator, Barnes and Noble?”, you suggested with raised eyebrows.

“Nah, can’t be that.”, Sam dismissed it.

“Check it. We’re headed back to DC.”

“Alright.”, you grabbed your bag off the floor.

“Before I go. Joaquin?”

Joaquin perked up, his attention solely on you.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t forget to keep me updated on the Smashers chatter. We make a pretty good team.”

“Alright, yeah...yeah, of course. I...Uh,”, he fumbled.

“You should probably give him your phone number so he can call you.”, Sam snipped from behind you.

Joaquin nervously laughed, 

“Having your number would make it a whole lot easier.”

You shook your head as you reached over and gripped his wrist, grabbing his phone to enter your details.

“Done.”, you handed Joaquin his phone back.

He slipped his hands in his pockets, 

“So...I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

A grin spread across your mouth as you tugged a bag over your shoulder,

“I guess so, Flyboy.”

“And I’m still here.”, Sam reminded you, earning a smack on the back of the head from you.

“Hey!”

***

Thanks for reading, lovely! Comment, tag and reblog! Let me know your thoughts and if you have any questions or prompts, don’t be afraid to ask! xx 

ALSO, tag me if YOU write any Joaquin Torres fics.

TAGS:

@remmysbounty @cjsinkythoughts @merceret @samscaptain @gryffindorwriter

#joaquin torres #joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x y/n #joaquin torres imagines #joaquin torres fic #bucky barnes #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu x reader #TFATWS x reader #TFATWS x y/n #TFATWS fic

[lubdubsworld]

Falling for you ( Falling from grace) ( Complete )

Summary : Friends with benefits? Or maybe Enemies who just happen to fuck? Areum and Jungkook love driving each other crazy, but also can’t keep their hands off each other.

Chapter 1 

 Chapter 2 

 Chapter 3

 Chapter 4

 Chapter 5  

Chapter 6  

Chapter 7

Chapter 8 ( Final ) 

Something about sitting on the counter in Jungkook’s kitchen, wearing nothing but his shirt and chopping carrots , while the clock read 2.20 AM felt so right, that I couldn’t stop grinning. 

Jungkook was singing softly and apparently singing was yet another thing he was ridiculously good at.

“You’re singing at our wedding. You sound like an angel.” I declared, pointing one red veggie at him.

Jungkook laughed.

“Sure, what song?”

“Something sweet and nice and-”

“ Take off those heels- Lay on my bed- Whisper dirty secrets as I’m pulling on your hair.....” 

I glared at him. 

“absolutely not.”

“Aww Come on... “ Jungkook gave me the full brunt of his puppy eyes, “We should be true to ourselves and lets be real, yes I enjoy being corny and romantic with you but...it’s in the bed that we truly shine as a couple.” He grinned, bunny teeth poking out in an entirely too adorable way considering that he wanted to sing a fucking sex song at our ‘not-even-sure-if-its-happening wedding’ . 

“No one else needs to know that...” I shuddered. My sister would expire on the spot. 

“ They will when we sneak out at the reception to have sex in the closet.” 

“In my wedding dress? Yeah right.” I rolled my eyes.

Jungkook’s eyes glittered. 

“We’re going to be married in the Maldives. You’re going to be in a bikini.” He said casually. 

I blinked.

“A bikini?”

“Yes. A bikini. The kind I can undo with just a couple of tugs on a string. “ 

“You’ve...given this a lot of thought.” I smirked.

He nodded.

“I am...but only because it’s damn near impossible to think of anything else when you’re in front of me.”

“You’re ridiculous.”.

He shrugged,

“Even picked out a ring.”

“Liar.” I hissed and he laughed.

“You’re right. I haven’t picked a ring. We’ll pick one together ....when we want to get married.” 

“But...thats ...not anytime soon right?” I said nervously. Jungkook gave me a smile, moving back to stirring the saucepan with the meat and adding some sauce. 

“It doesn’t have to be ever. I’m happy this way. If one day you wake up and feel like you’re missing a ring on your finger, we’ll go do the whole wedding shebang. If not, that's fine too. We can spend the rest of our lives being the horny couple everyone avoids at family gatherings. ” he shrugged. 

I laughed but felt my heart expand a few sizes inside me. 

“Thank you.” I whispered and he leaned over the counter to gently grip my chin, planting a soft kiss on my lips. 

“No one else gets to say what we are. No one else gets to say what we can or can’t do. Okay?” He rubbed his nose against mine and I nodded.

I bit my lips, thinking about something that had always bothered me. 

“Your parents-” He cut me off before I could finish.

“I won’t lie. They’ll probably want me to...reconsider.” He sighed. “ But I don’t think they’ll give  you  a hard time about it.. They’re polite and good people. Just have a different idea of what I need in a wife.”

I played with the hem of his shirt. 

“Sana , she’s-” i couldn’t even say it, just looking up at him. He was already staring at me. 

He nodded, smiling a little.

“Someone my parents have been trying to set me up with, yeah.” He admitted. 

“You didn’t turn her down ...” I said softly, feeling hurt . 

He stared at me, turning the heat down on the pan before coming around to stand in front of me. 

“Hey, come on, don’t look like that, baby...”

“And she’s going to be there at your fight today and-”

“I just didn’t want to pick a fight with my parents before today’s match. Because believe it or not, I was going to ask you out today , after I won.”

I blinked at him, surprised.

“Really?”

“Really. I... you’ve been staying over and stuff, and you actually looked jealous of Sana so I thought...you know maybe you’ve changed your mind about us.... So I wanted to ask you out. And I wanted my parents to  be in a good mood when I told them I’m with you. So I indulged them a little , that’s all.” 

I nodded. Talking about his parents made me think of my own mother and God, I could feel a headache coming on. But I had to tell him the truth. 

“My mom...she’s...she’s a little...”

He squeezed my knees, leaning closer and bumping my head with his.

“I’m not the kind of guy women usually want to bring home to their parents, but i will wear a nice button down,  brush my teeth  and get a whole bunch of flowers for her when you ask me to.” He whispered. 

“She’ll only want you for your money.” I blurted out.

He straightened, looking confused.

Embarrassment flooded me but I had to be honest with him.

“My mother, she... she got used to a really luxurious lifestyle with my dad and when he died, she just...she couldn’t accept that she’s going to have to give up a lot of stuff... So she’ll try to get you to buy her things. I’ll try to keep her away as much as I can but-”

“I really wouldn’t mind buying her stuff-”

I shook my head fiercely.

“No..No..that’s... I can’t ask you to that.”

Areum look at me-” He demanded and I stared at him. 

“You do know that I’m like, filthy rich, right?” He said firmly.

I rolled my eyes.

“Yes but-”

“Buying your mom a few trinkets every month wouldn’t even put a dent in the amount of money I make in a fucking  hour.” He raised both his eyebrows.

I frowned.

“Okay, stop bragging.” 

He laughed. 

“ I’m serious. You don’t have to worry about it okay? Besides you can always repay me for it. “ 

I gaped at him.

“I cannot repay-”

“In kisses.” He finished. 

I stared at him, not fooled at all.

“And office sex. I really really want to spend a whole entire day at work with you wrapped around my cock...not even fucking,,,just you in my lap, me inside you.... Its like my biggest fantasy.” His eyes looked a little glazed. 

I felt heat rush all the way up to my ears, my face flaming. 

“You’re insatiable” I muttered, whacking his shoulder. 

His eyes shifted, gaze darkening and heavy with something that was more than just lust. More than just attraction,. It was heavy and over powering, strong and impossible to ignore. It was so heavy and dark and sensuous and yet somehow so achingly soft and affectionate. 

“It’s never enough, “ He leaned in close, curving fingers on my waist and kissing my neck. “ After two years, I tell myself I should have had enough of you but...” He brushed his lips against mine, “   It’s not. I want to touch you more. I always come away from our time together wishing I could touch you some more. Want to touch you more, take in that scent of yours, watch your eyes flash when I make you cum. ” 

He grabbed my knees, spreading my legs and I became acutely aware of being completely naked underneath his shirt. 

“We’re not having sex on the kitchen counter.” I protested, laughing  and he hummed, kissing my jaw gently.

“Come on, its a rite of passage. Its not true love if you don’t have sex on the kitchen counter while your dinner burns on the stove...” 

Oh, well. 

Maybe he was right. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Should i just forfeit the match tonight?” Jungkook whispered, voice muffled against my shoulder blades as he pressed soft little kisses to my skin , deliciously slow and gentle. 

I frowned, face down on the soft duvet on his bed, fingers curled into the fabric, trying to chase sleep. 

The slightly golden light spilling into the room told me it was morning, but still pretty early. We could definitely afford to sleep in a few more hours at least. It had been almost four in the morning when we had finally fallen asleep. Jungkook had wanted to leave the kitchen as it was but I couldn’t fathom leaving some poor maid the task of cleaning cum off the mahogany surface. 

“Why would you say that?” i said, surprised. 

Jungkook sighed.

“I don’t know. “ He pulled away from me and rolled to the side. I stared at him as he gazed back at me. 

“What’s wrong?” I whispered, genuinely concerned.

He gave me a soft smile.

“It’s just a thought. I have it every morning of a major match.” He ran a palm over his face, mussing up his hair bore reaching out to press a kiss on my forehead. 

“Is it nervousness?” I asked, feeling anxious. There was something oddly frightening about seeing this side of Jungkook. I’d only ever seen the cool, confident asshole. The one that had no qualms about taking what he wanted, when he wanted. 

And I felt .... like it was a privilege he was granting me, letting me see the vulnerable side to his well earned cockiness. 

He shook his head. 

“It’s not. I’m not worried about losing, wouldn’t even mind losing once in a while.”

“But you don’t... you’re literally incapable of losing, golden maknae...” I teased and he rolled his eyes. 

“It’s actually about you.” He reached out and cupped my cheek gently. 

I blinked, pressing my own fingers over his. .

“What?”

“I’m not sure you’ll....like  that  side of me.” He said hesitantly. 

“Jungkook...”

“A large part of why I never let you see me fight is because, I’m not a nice person in the ring. I don’t show a lot of mercy ... I sometimes use more force than necessary and well, there’s nothing beautiful about beating the shit out of someone is there?”

I swallowed.

“You think I’ll see you differently, if I watch you fight.”

He nodded. 

“Won’t you? It’s not a very dignified sport.” 

I hesitated, not sure what to say to that. 

“I’ve not... I don’t think I’ve ever thought it was weird, in a bad way, that you boxed. I just thought it was something you were good at. It’s not... I don’t think I feel that deeply about it.” 

He nodded.

“I believe you . But it still worries me. I’m just scared I guess...”

“Scared..?”

“Scared that seeing me in the ring will make you change your mind about us.” 

I jolted, stunned. 

Moving quickly to his side , I threw my arms around his neck, kissing him hard. 

I pulled back to glare at him.

“I’m not going to leave you over a sport you play.” I said drily .

He chuckled and kissed the tip of my nose.

“If you say so.”

“I’m serious. I’m not a delicate flower, Jungkook. I’m not going to enjoy watching you get hurt, yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to just...give up on everything that you are.... because of this.” 

“You’re right.... I’m sorry if i worried you.” He said softly , and it was so disarming, how much adoration was writ large on his features.

 I was used to the lust and the passion and the roughness but this Jungkook, the tender, gentle lover....he was sending me into a downward spiral. 

“This is weird.” I laughed a little.

He grinned.

“What?” He scooted closer, reaching out to gently hold my hand.

“You...being so...” I stopped when he stroked the delicate skin on the back of my hand with feather light touches. 

“So...what?” His eyebrows quirked up, teasing and I felt myself blushing so furiously . 

“Stop it...” I whispered, mortified with how hot my face was getting. That tender, adoring look on his face was making it impossible for me to breathe.

Jungkook gave me a wicked smile and carefully slotted his fingers between mine, holding my hand gently before raising it up to kiss my knuckles.

“What’s making you turn so red, angel?” He pressed soft affectionate kisses, on each knuckle and then the inside of my wrist and I smiled so wide my cheeks began to hurt a bit. 

“Jungkook...” I could barely get the words out and it was so incredibly embarrassing that something as innocently affectionate as him holding my hand was filling me with an incontrollable urge to just burst into tears. 

“ I love you...” He whispered , blowing gently on my fingers. 

“Oh, God...” I could feel my soul threatening to leave my body. 

“Love every little bit of you...” He rolled over me, straddling my waist , arms caging me in as he pressed one soft kiss to my temple. 

“I’m going to cry.” I said firmly.

“Love that you’re so brave, so unafraid. “ He kissed the edge of my brows., “ love that you stand up for yourself, love that you don’t take shit from anyone, even me and I love that you’re here. In my arms. Like this, although I don’t deserve you at all, my beautiful goddess....” he whispered. 

The nickname made me astral project for one hot minute. 

Determined to get some control back, I grabbed the drawstrings of his sweatpants, untying the loose knot before slipping my fingers into the waistband. 

“Hmm... you’re right. You don’t deserve. But because I’m a generous generous goddess, how about I let you worship me, the way  I  deserve ....” I whispered, tugging his pants down, pushing the fabric past  his muscled thighs. He laughed.

“And how would that be?”

“Let me use that hot, thick dick of yours... Wanna ride it till my thighs shake, make you cum so hard you’ll see heaven...” I whispered and he rolled his eyes. 

“This is supposed to be a soft moment .... and all you’re interested in is my cock , you dirty little-” He choked when I shimmied down, quickly. Scooting down the bed till i was face to face with his dick, his thighs straddling my chest and his cock right up against my mouth. 

I licked the tip, gently. 

“I love you too..” I whispered, wrapping my lips around the soft head , letting my lips suck on the sensitive skin, tongue licking the soft underside as he grabbed on to the headboard to steady himself. 

“Areum-” 

“Love how much you care for me,” I ran the tip of my tongue all over the head , getting it nice and sloppy, “  how upset you get when I’m hurting....” I opened my mouth wide, lifting up just a bit to suck more of him into my mouth. 

“Oh God-”

“Love how kind, and talented and nice you are. Love how good you are at making me feel good. No one makes me feel as good as you do, Jungkook...” 

He was staring down at me, eyes blown with a mixture of arousal and affection, fingers carding through my hair gently.

I gave his hip a small pat.  

“Fuck my mouth... i can’t suck you off like this.” I squeezed his ass , enjoying how hard it felt beneath my hand. I gripped his thighs, stroking them up and down, leanly muscled and corded with strength. 

And then, completely losing my senses, 

“Namjoon’s thighs are a little bigger than yours right? ”  I said thoughtfully, completely serious and not even realizing what i was saying and  who  I was saying it to until his grip on my hair tightened hard enough  . 

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he was off me in a second. 

The look of sheer and absolute horror on his face made me laugh so hard i nearly choked. 

Growling, he grabbed me by the shoulders, flipping me over so fast, i bounced off the mattress. I laughed into the fabric of the pillow . 

“Jungkook, i was just jok--” I got cut off by a smack to the back of my thigh, hard and stinging. 

“Hyung’s thighs? Really, Areum, you wanna got there?” He smacked me again, and I whined. 

“Is this any way to treat a goddess?” I choked out, struggling to crawl away but he held me down easily. 

“Shouldn’t ever go soft on you..., called you a goddess one time and suddenly you wanna be a little brat about it......” He grunted, fingers closing around my upper arms and pulling my hands back so hard that my shoulder actually popped. 

He pulled me up till I was on my knees, his chest pressed to my back as he gripped my wrists hard. 

“Ow!! I’m sorry!” I yelped, but he wasn’t listening,  and I grinned when i felt the familiar cold of metal on my wrists. 

“You’re so easily riled...” I added a slight lilt to my words, knowing how much it annoyed him. 

He didn’t disappoint, grabbing my chin hard and yanking my head back so I could stare at him. 

“Only when you forget your place, angel.” He whispered . 

“My place?” I blinked innocently. “ And where is that?”

He gave me a quick bruising kiss.

“In my heart most of the time. But right now, on your knees up against the head board so I can fuck your brains out.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I love you.” Jungkook said cheerfully, leaning against the wall and grinning like the Chesire cat. I straightened from where I was kneeling, tying my sneakers. 

I stared at him, completely amused.

“Jungkook you don’t have to say that so often...” I shook my head.

He frowned. 

“I like being able to say those words to you. I spent entirely too many months thinking them and not being allowed to say them.”

I felt my heart melt a little. 

“I love you too. “ I whispered.

“I wouldn’t mind you being there, you know. I know I said all that stuff, but if you really want to see me fight from up front....” 

I shook my head. 

“Its alright. I won’t be anywhere near the front and I’ll make sure to look away when you’re punching your opponent. “ I teased. 

He sighed.

“Just remember that’s not who I am, okay? I... I love you.” He said again.

“Now the word’s just beginning to lose all meaning.” I laughed. 

He looked hurt at that.

I rushed to sooth him.

“I’m just joking, I’m joking... Of course it has meaning and i love that you’ve suddenly turned into a love bot, but let’s just... tone it down. Just a little bit.” I pinched my fingers together,.

He tugged his lower lips between his teeth.

“You’ll be okay to get to the venue by yourself right? I’m going to take a shower and a nap before I head there.”

“I’ll be fine.” I waved him off. “ We’ll meet up after you win and celebrate properly.” I winked, giving him one last kiss before waving bye. 

As the door closed behind him, I couldn’t help but grin ear to ear.

Ain’t love grand? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was wrong. 

I couldn’t do this.

“He is so hot. Oh my God, you’re so lucky, Sana...look at his fucking abs.” 

I willed myself not to take a swing at the girl next to me. I wanted to clench my fist, raise my arm and just let loose till she was knocked out on the floor. The women from the office had seen me hovering awkwardly at the back and swooped on me like a pair of vultures. 

I’d been swept to the very front with them, my protests falling on deaf ears and now, suddenly I had front row seats to watching the love of my life get hurt. 

There was nothing even remotely enjoyable about watching Jungkook get hit. And although it was clear that he was winning , clear that he was so much better than his opponent, there was no denying that the other guy was good too.

And the two times he had managed to catch Jungkook off guard, landing a couple of punches, my entire heart had cracked into two. 

“He’s going to be my husband...can you believe?” San whispered next to me and I startled.,

Oh God. 

The girls looked at me eagerly.

“Oh...that’s yeah. Sounds amazing.” I smiled. 

“He could probably like fuck you against the wall, “ Jieun whispered, giggling .

Sana blushed so red I wanted to scream.

“So hot... Do you think he’s... you know...big?” She nudged me lightly, laughing. 

Oh wow. I clenched my fists, feeling rage fill my veins so fast that I saw red. 

But I was saved by the sound of a commotion up front and my head whipped around, panic setting in. 

I stared at the ring. Jungkook stood back while his opponent was flat on the floor, unmoving. 

Great, these horny bitches had made me miss him taking the winning shot. 

i watched the referee kneel beside the prone man, counting slowly and I saw Jungkook turn to stare right at me.

“He’s looking at you, Sana... He’s looking at you, look!!” Jieun grinned. 

I bit my lips, smiling at him. 

“I think you should go to him.” The girls told Sana and I jumped.

What the fuck??

Unable to bear it, I pushed past them, ignoring their surprised squawks as I pushed past the crowd to the aisle. 

“And , ladies and gentleman, we have ourselves a winner. Give it up for our very own, Jeon Jung Kook!!” 

The crowd went wild, the referee raising his hand up in victory.

I ran all the way up to the ring, narrowly missing the guard near the front and crawling up into the ring. 

Jungkook stared at me, wide eyes as I jumped on him with a running leap. 

He caught me around the waist easily, laughing. He gripped my butt, hoisting me up and I wrapped my thighs tight around his waist. 

“Oh, wow”. He whispered, but I was too busy searching the crowd for the three girls who had triggered me into this madness. 

Sana and her two friends stood slack jawed, eyes wide as saucers as they stared at me. 

I snatched the mic out of Jungkook’s hand. Glared right at them. 

“To answer your question...yes.. he’s big. The biggest I’ve ever had and what’s more he knows how to use it too. Also, stay the fuck away from my boyfriend and stop talking about him like he’s a piece of meat, you whores. You do know I work in the HR department right? I will file sexual harassment suits on the three of you so fast you’ll-” 

Jungkook grabbed the mic out of my hands before I could finish, looking absolutely horrified. 

“You crazy little bint!” He laughed aloud and I pouted.

“They’re taking about your dick. I don’t like that.” I protested. 

“Baby, you know my dick is yours.” 

“Damn right it is.” I said firmly. 

He grinned a bit. 

“And so is my heart.” 

I let him kiss me, the background noise and the sound of of cheering fading away as I let my eyes flutter shut, reveling in just him. 

Of course, we had things to do. Meet our parents. Make our relationship public.... a whole lot of messy grown up stuff that would annoy the fuck out of both of us. 

But for now, kissing him in front of everyone, ignoring Namjoon’s screams of, ‘ Jungkook there are reporters here!!! ’ and my sister’s shouts of, ‘ stop you heathens’.....

Well, this felt just right. 

The End .

Authors Note : Well, this was a whole entire journey wasn’t it!!!!! I will deeply miss Jungkook and Areum, I loved them with my whole entire heart. I hope you guys loved them too... Let me know if you did... As always, feedback is much, much appreciated !!!! Thank you for sticking by.  Love and kisses. 

taglist : 

@veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@jincentvangogh

@unicornbabylover

@ggukkieland

@yoongisdragon

@aamxxrii

@brooky95

@apollukee

@bonyg 

@craztextae

#jungkook fics #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #bts smut #bts au #bts fics #bts fanfics #jungkook fanfics

[teacupfulofstarshine]

in little ways

summary: "a single act of love makes the soul return to life." - saint maximillian kolbe (OR: soft moments in the relationship of patton, remus, and virgil, as a birthday gift for the lovely @bumblebeekitten​)

a/n: HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEE!!! i give you intrumoxiety being soft little shits 

CW: shedding of skin (akin to a snake), nightmare mention, bones, one (1) innuendo, nonsexual nudity

wordcount: 2.7k

ao3 link

“Babe? What - are you doing?” 

Virgil, who is busy trying to plan out the best way to strategically approach a nest of wild sirens in the middle of molt to gather their discarded feathers, opens their mouth to reply, and then the low rumbling baritone of their newest lover hits their ears. 

“I . . . you’ll laugh at me if I tell you.” 

Virgil’s one-of-my-loves-is-on-some-self-deprecating-bullshit-and-requires-reassurance, which they take pride in having almost as fine-tuned as Patton’s, begins klaxon-blaring in their mind. They mark their page and carefully untangle themselves from the web of work they’ve been doing and head into the other room. 

Patton is sitting on the kitchen table, swinging (Virgil narrows his eyes at the colored orb charm hanging around Patton’s neck) her legs back and forth, and Remus is standing in front of her, blushing. She has a small wreath of white things in her hair - are those bones? - with a bright jewel studded over her forehead. Remus is holding more small white things in his hands, claw-tipped fingers curled so delicately to avoid shattering them. 

“You - I just -”

“Honey, I promise I’m not gonna laugh at you, no matter what,” Patton says. She reaches forward, assortment of rings glinting and clinking as she touches Remus’s face. He lets out a soft rumbly noise and turns his cheek to press into the touch more, gently rubbing his nose against her palm. “We all do stuff that other people think is weird. You don’t have to worry about it.” 

Remus flicks his eyes up to look at Virgil, who slow-blinks at him in the clearest nonverbal communication of I love you, you massive idiot they can give. “I . . . uh . . . it’s a weird dragon thing.” 

“Re, we’re not gonna be species-ist towards you, that would be super mean and also stupid, considering that no one in this house is human or cisgender,” Virgil says. Remus smiles, hesitant, and then exhales out a puff of gray-black smoke. 

“It’s . . . a claiming thing. When dragons get serious about courtships, they . . . combine hoards a little? They’ll pick out choice pieces from their hoards and exchange them. So, by me putting pieces of my bone hoard on you, it’s like . . . me saying that I’m serious about this, and I want it to last.” Virgil reaches out and takes Remus’s hand, not reacting at all when their skin hisses and steams against his. The benefits of having a partner who’s half ice nymph and half selkie, they suppose. 

“Don’t I get any bones?” they tease. Remus waggles his eyebrows at them; they promptly drop his hand and smack his shoulder. “Not like that, dirty dragon.” 

“Yeah, it’s not fair for only one of us to get fancy bones!” Patton says. “Although I certainly do appreciate this . . . tiara? I’m gonna go ahead and say it’s a tiara.” 

“It was supposed to be,” Remus says, kicking the floor. “I got Ro to help me with pickin’ out the gems and stuff. That’s part of what he hoards, so we went and looked for them together. He told me that one’s a moonstone, and I thought, y’know, werewolf, perfect, right? And - and I’m working on something for you, Virge, I just didn’t wanna find anything that screamed VEE to me on that trip, y’know?” 

“Well, I absolutely love it,” Patton coos, leaning forward to kiss Remus. “Thank you for the tiara, sweetie!” She pauses. “You cleaned these, right?” 

Remus laughs, deep and echoing, and something inside of Virgil uncoils. 

*~*~*~*~*

Their skin itches and burns, and someone in front of them is setting their sealskin on fire, and they can hear Patton screaming high and frantic and Remus roaring deep and feral but they can’t move, they’re screaming, convulsing as they burn up with their sealskin and then then then then then -

“Virgil!” 

They sit upright, ice flooding around them, and a dark shape looms in the distance and they fling their hand out to cast a massive shard of ice through the heart of their night terror, but the night terror opens its mouth and green fire rolls out like a current, licking along the ice and dissolving it into water without burning anything else. “Virgil,” the night terrors says, and why does Virgil know that voice? 

“Virgil,” the voice repeats, lower, and then again, and every time it repeats their name it drops lower and lower until they aren’t so much hearing their name as they are feeling it reverberate in their heaving chest. 

The night terror tips its head back and exhales a jet of flames towards the ceiling. It catches on a saucer of oil, spreading down troughs to ignite other saucers spread around the ceiling, and the night terror looks down with fire licking around its teeth and oh, that’s not a night terror at all, it’s Remus. His leathery wings are awkwardly stuck together behind him like he’d just woken up, his hands are up like he’s warding off an attack. 

“R - Rem?” 

BELOVED, he rumbles, mouth barely moving. Virgil sways a little under the force, blinking as Remus thumps at his chest a little with one hand. ARE YOU WELL?  

“I . . . nightmare,” they manage. “Hunters. Hurt you, hurt Patty, stole my skin . . .”

Remus takes a step forward, then another. MAY I APPROACH? Virgil is pretty sure he’s actually speaking Dracon, which would explain the oddly formal address and grammar. They nod, too out of it to speak more, and Remus carefully climbs onto the ice-covered bed. He opens his arms, and they collapse into his chest, shaking. 

“Patty?” 

ON A NIGHT HUNT WITH HIS PACK, BELOVED. HE WILL RETURN ON THE MORN.  

“Oh . . . did I hurt you?”

NO, BELOVED. HOW ELSE MAY I COMFORT YOU?

“My . . . my skin?” 

Remus scoops them up into his arms, easily navigating the iced-over bedroom floor and taking them down into the basement. He exhales a plume of blue-green fire into the magical lock, and Virgil leans forward as the door spins and swirls open. The hoard room is full of perfectly-articulated skeletons, bones in cleaning vats, and the other treasures that Remus collects. He navigates through the piles skillfully until he reaches a dark wooden chest with an intricate sapphire-and-golden inlay on the top. 

YOUR KEY, BELOVED?  

Virgil traces a sigil across the chest, and it glows under their touch. The array lights up with a brilliant violet aura, and the chest pops open. They reach into the chest hurriedly, panic when they don’t feel fur, and then slide their fingers across to the latch that opens the false bottom. They flip open the false bottom and pull out their sealskin, pressing their face into the softness. 

Their sealskin is beautiful. It’s black as pitch, studded with flecks of silver and white. Remus hugs them against his chest as they rub their cheek against the fur and inhale the scent of the sea. Remus rumbles underneath them, gently rubbing his face along their hair and neck to gently scent him. 

“Thanks,” Virgil says, nearly twenty minutes later, sealskin draped around them like a blanket. “I . . . sorry I woke you.” 

“It’s alright,” Remus says, voice hoarse and growly. “I don’t mind. It’s kinda hot when you go batshit, even though I wish you hadn’t had a nightmare.” Virgil snorts, shoving at his chest. 

“I can’t believe you slipped into Dracon.” Remus ducks his head in embarrassment. 

“Yeah . . . it . . . lots of dragon moms do it to try and soothe rowdy hatchlings back to sleep. I didn’t realize I was doing it until my larynx dropped, and once it goes that far down it takes a while to relax my muscles enough to release it back to normal.” 

“I like it,” Virgil murmurs, leaning up to kiss him. “It’s . . . nice.” 

Remus rumbles with pleasure and kisses them back.

*~*~*~*~*

“Patton, what are you doing?” 

Patton is staring out the window, eyes narrowed, mouth set in a thin line of displeasure. Virgil pauses, arms full of books and random spell components. “I don’t trust that woman.” 

“What? What woman?” 

Virgil follows their gaze down to the end of the walkway leading up to their cottage, all the way to the woman at their mailbox. “Patton, what -”

“I don’t trust her,” they mutter, ears pinning back in their fluffy hair. 

“Patton, she’s the mailwoman. Debra’s been coming here every day for the past seven years.”

“Suspicious.” 

“It is literally the opposite of suspicious, you ridiculous werewolf.” 

*~*~*~*~*

“Poor baby,” Patton croons, pulling on thick rubber gloves and tying her hair up out of the way. Remus whines, rolling around the kitchen buck-naked. His body is almost completely covered in thick, glistening scales, with few patches of human skin peeking through.

“Why are you naked?” Virgil asks. 

“Shedding season,” Remus moans, swiping irritably at his torso. A thick sheet of scales flakes to the ground, and Virgil picks it up. “You can have whatever scales come off if you help me, it itches so baaaaaad!” 

Virgil looks at Patton, who’s carrying a bucket of magic salts and a scrub brush towards the bathroom. “You got a spare brush and gloves, Patty?” 

“Under the sink!” Virgil is quick to grab the supplies. When they return, Remus is still rolling around the kitchen floor, and Patton is prodding him with her foot. 

“Babe, if you don’t get into the tub, I can’t help you feel better. Your dad sent the special salts that your family uses during sheds from the sea caves near your family home.”

“Papa sent them?” Remus’s eyes are wide and liquid, and he almost looks like a hatchling. Virgil bends down and brushes his sweaty hair off his forehead. 

“Yeah, Reem. We asked him for the salts and the lotion so that you’d be more comfortable the next time you shed your scales. We know how much you hate the feeling, and we want you to be comfor - mmph!” 

Remus grabs the front of their shirt and drags them down into a kiss, brief and passionate. Virgil leans back, mussed and flustered, and Patton leans down and drops a kiss into their hair. “Let’s get you into the bath, mister.” 

They finally manage to get Remus into the hot bath, and the moan he lets out when Patton tips the salt into the water is positively lewd. Virgil tugs on the thick gloves and picks up their scrub brush. “I’ll take the left, you take the right?” Patton nods, picking up her rough sponge, and they get to work. 

Virgil puts their back into the scrubbing, careful around Remus’s newly healed top surgery scars. They create a transport sigil next to them and pass any large sheets of scales that flake off of Remus through it, sending them to their work desk. Remus wriggles around in the hot water, making it difficult to scrub, but finally his skin is clear and red-pink from scrubbing and the heat. 

Remus flops gracefully onto the bed, sighing in relief as he rolls around the soft comforter. Patton pulls off her gloves and picks up a tub of thick, pink goop. “Alright, buddy, it’s time for the lotion.” 

“You guys don’t have to do all this,” Remus mumbles, sleepy from his bath. “I know it’s kinda gross.” 

“We love you, Remus. It’s no trouble,” Patton says, gently stroking his hair. 

“Of course it’s not,” Virgil adds. Remus lets out a low, pleased rumble, and Virgil kisses Patton softly.

*~*~*~*~*

“VIRGIL! Virgil, Virgil, Virgil Virgil VirgilVirgil VirgilVirgil VIRGIL!!!!!” 

Virgil, whose name is sounding more and more like gibberish, even to their own ears, looks up from the sigil they’re constructing to see Remus bouncing eagerly in front of them. “Learn something new?” 

“Yeah! Patton’s at the grocery store, can I infodump to you?” 

Virgil looks down at the array they’re working on. “Give me two minutes to make sure this sigil won’t explode if I leave it alone, okay? Then you can talk all you want.” Remus nods, sitting down next to them. He’s practically vibrating with happy energy - flapping his hand, tapping his feet, snapping his fingers, rocking and humming. Virgil quickly changes a few of the components of their array, pulls their power out of it, and writes down where they were so they can pick their work up later. “Okay, Remus. Go ahead.” 

Remus jumps to his feet and begins pacing around the living room, telling Virgil all about the new deadly creature he’s discovered, and Virgil watches him fondly, smiling. 

*~*~*~*~*

“You know how Pat has his bone tiara?” 

“Yeah?” 

Remus reaches into the pouch at his waist and offers something to Virgil. “For you!” Virgil takes the token from his hands, gasping when it comes into view. It’s a necklace with a braided leather cord and a dangling pendant. The pendant is painstakingly constructed of dozens of tiny bones, all arranged and articulated to form an ornate snowflake. In the very center is a gleaming piece of icy pale blue-green topaz, carved into a hexagonal facet. 

“You . . . you made this?” 

“Yep! I - do you not like it?” 

Virgil stares at the necklace, running their fingers over the edges of the snowflake and the ice-cold smoothness of the gem. They slip the pendant over their head with trembling fingers before dragging Remus into a kiss. “Bedroom, now.” 

“As you wish,” Remus purrs, scooping them into his arms. 

*~*~*~*~*

Virgil tightens their grip on the strap of their messenger bag as the gates swing open, revealing a tall, imposing figure. Half of his face is covered in glittering golden-green scales, and one eye is a golden brown with a slitted pupil; the other is dark brown, almost black. He wears a long-sleeved golden dress that falls to the floor, intricately embroidered with dragons and flames along the hem, and his wings are fanned loosely around him. 

“Papa!” Remus crows, sprinting up and leaping towards the figure. He catches him, managing to make it look elegant as he hugs Remus close and rubs his back with a small smile. Remus and his father press their foreheads together, rumbling softly, before Remus hops down. “Virgey, Patton, this is my papa! Papa, these are my loves!” 

Virgil flushes, seeing Patton go pale pink beside them, as Remus’s father comes forward and extends a hand. “You may call me Janus. It is a pleasure to formally meet you. My son speaks quite highly of you.” 

Virgil shakes his hand. “The pleasure is all ours, sir. Thank you for letting us use the private beach on your estate.” Janus smiles as he shakes Patton’s hand. 

“Anyone so highly beloved of my son is always welcome on our family’s ancestral home.” His eyes linger on the bone tiara and pendant before turning to Remus and asking him a low, rapidfire question in a tongue Virgil doesn’t speak. Remus turns redder than Virgil’s ever seen him and spits back a swift response, and Janus laughs. 

“The path to the beach is that way. When you are done, I will have a meal prepared in the house. Take your time. The weather will be favorable today.” 

Remus grabs their hands and drags them down towards the sea. “What did your dad say to you?” 

“He’s just being embarrassing,” Remus mutters. 

“Must have been serious if it embarrassed you,” Patton teases. 

“Shut up!” 

They crest the cliff and spot the sea, and all of Virgil’s teasing leaves them in one breath. It’s beautiful, and the longer they stare at it and smell the salt water, the stronger the call of the ocean in their bones. 

Remus goes flying down the stairs, dropping his bag in the sand and shedding all of his clothes to reveal a lime green speedo. Patton takes a little more care, spreading out the towels and setting up the umbrella, before carefully taking off their tiara and clothes and transforming into a wolf with a fluid, rippling motion. They leap into the water as Virgil descends to the beach. They set down their bag, strip down, and carefully tuck their pendant in a pocket of their bag before reaching in and pulling out their sealskin. They take a moment to watch the way the sun glitters on the ocean’s surface, listening to the crash of the waves and the call of the gulls and the shrieking laughter of Remus and Patton’s joyful barks. 

Then, they wrap their sealskin around their shoulders and join their loves in the sea. 

#starshinewrites #ts remus #intrumoxiety #wife squad tag! #bee tag! #ts virgil #ts patton

[realfuurikuuri]

MissingArm!AU Chapter 4: I Would Give You Until The Count of Ten, but I Can Only Count To Five

Side note: I’m bad at basic math and it turns out the last chapter was mislabeled for Tumblr. Whoops.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Alright, back with a new chapter. A little later than before, but hey what the heck can you do. Regardless, I think this one is pretty fun. I’ve figured out how to put that banner at the top of things (turns out you hit share on Ao3, who woulda thought) which makes these post look way smoother than before. The song rec this time is A Left Foot Trapped in A Sensual Seduction (which the weebs among us will remember being Alucard’s theme from Hellsing). As always check out @spookylovesboba she’s great, and enjoy the chapter. 

Direct Link to chapter 4 on AO3: XXXX

Chapter below the cut

Badgerclops ran through town tired and short of breath, wondering where that feral cat bastard went. Sweetipies turned their heads when they saw Badgerclops him.

“Does Mao Mao have the hose again,”  one asked.

“Is Muffin giving out free samples, again,” asked another.

Assholes.

Badgerclops stood on top of a park bench, turning his hand into a megaphone. “Mao Mao,” he called out. “Mao Mao! Mao Mao!”

God, he felt like a green plumber looking for his brother in a haunted mansion. Badgerclops chuckled a bit at his own joke. Maybe he should have said hotel instead of a mansion to make it more current. Badgerclops stopped examining the intricacies of his own comedy when he noticed Pinky waking up to the table with a suspicious jar of mayo in his hands.

“Goss,” Badgerclops said.

“Me or the mayo?”

 “Both. Get out of here, Pinky.”

“What are you doin?”

“None of your business.”.

“Are you looking for Mao Mao?”

“Have you seen him?”

“No.”

Badgerclops shot the jar of mayo with his arm cannon. Seeing Pinky mourn did brighten his day a little. Not enough. He still needed to find Mao Mao.

“Hey! Get off of me!”

The noise snapped Badgerclops out of his thoughts. He panicked. Was it too late? Had Mao Mao already done something he’d regret? Badgerclops hurried in the voice's direction, already making plans for a quick exit. He'd already made their packs. Even a third one for Adorabat in case she was brought along, although he doubted they’d keep her. Maybe they’d ditch her at the castle? Badgerclops slapped his face and shook his head. Now wasn’t the time to be stressing about that. Now was the time to find Mao Mao.

Badgerclops rounded the corner and breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn’t Mao Mao. It was just Rufus getting harassed by some dog. Why was Rufus still here? He should’ve skipped town ages ago.

“Hey!” he called out nearly making Rufus jump out of his own skin.

Rufus pushed the dog away from the bouquet and snacks that the dog was after. “What do you want,” he sneered.

“Okay, one: rude. Two: don’t be so rude to the guy who can throw you in jail, Three: you don’t ask me what I’m doing; I ask you what you’re so what are you doing?”

Rufus pushed Badgerclops' finger away. “I’m visiting my friend that the blasted sheriff put in the hospital!”

Oh right, the raccoon. Kind of cute that he was still waiting for his friend.

Not cute enough to keep Badgerclops from picking the fox up and shaking him like a can of soda.

“I don’t care about your friend! I’m looking for Mao Mao!  Have you seen him?”

“Mao Mao? You mean the black cat?”

“Yes!”

“The one wearing the red cape?”

“Yes!”

“Carrying the golden sword?”

“Yes! Yes! For the love of God, yes! Just tell me where he is!”

“Alas, I haven’t seen him anywhere,” Rufus said with the smarmiest of smiles.

“Okay, you know what,” Badgerclops said, setting the fox back down. "I’m trying to keep someone from being murdered and ya'll are being, like, super ungrateful.”

The dog barked in protest.

“Yeah, that includes you.”

Badgerclops picked the dog up to pet it while he thought. The dog was a milky brown Shiba-Inu. Nothing notable aside from the fact that it had a sword on its back and a necklace. No. It was an amulet around its neck. Badgerclops didn’t pick the dog up just to look at it, he wanted to know who it belonged to. Where in the hell would a sweetipie get a dog and why hadn’t he seen it before? To Badgerclops’ dismay, there wasn’t any address stamped on the collar, but there was a name: Bao Bao .

Badgerclops rubbed his eyes and read the collar again. It still said Bao Bao.

He grabbed Rufus by the collar and used his jacket to wipe at the collar until it shined. Surely enough, it still read Bao Bao.

What? What? This dog was Bao Bao! A dog! A fucking dog! What the shit? Mao Mao described him as an evil barbarian with enough guile to pose as a hero and the psychopathy to abandon a kid whose arm was crushed by a rock! Not a dog! Not a fucking dog!

Badgerclops rubbed his temples, taking deep breaths to calm his racing heart. He should have expected this. He was the most overdramatic motherfucker to ever motherfuck, but damn dude. Whatever he resolved to accept that Mao Mao’s worst enemy was literally an animal. He just needed to kick the dog out of the valley and wait for Mao Mao to calm his tits. No, that wouldn’t do. If no one caught Mao Mao he’d definitely kill someone.

Badgerclops pushed the dog into Rufus’ hands. “Take this dog and get him out of the valley. I don’t care how it gets done. Just do it,” he ordered.

“What? I’m going to visit my friend and besides I don’t have to do anything you say.”

Badgerclops pointed his arm at Rufus, letting it shift into the high powered cannon. “C’mon just take the dog away, you know, before someone gets hurt.”

“Alright just don’t shoot me! I don’t wanna be shot!”

“There we go. Now get out of here before someone -and by someone I mean you- gets messed up.”

 Badgerclops watched Rufus turn away to finish his task.

Thump!  

Badgerclops stopped.

He turned around just in time to see a black blur with a streak of gold.

It was Mao Mao!

Badgerclops swung around brandishing his arm, opening his eye, taking careful aim. The window was more narrow than a pinhole. He watched and waited. He watched Rufus see the sword and scream in terror. He waited for Mao Mao to swing his sword with all his might.

Now!

Badgerclops let loose a net. The wound-up ball slowly spread out, snagging Mao Mao out of the air, pinning him against the wall. Badgerclops ignored Mao Mao to put his fingers to Rufus’ neck. The fox's eyes had rolled back, and foam had gathered in the corners of his mouth;The look made Badgerclops’ fur stand on end. He breathed a sigh of relief and wiped the sweat from his brow when he finally felt a pulse. The fox was definitely not fine, but he wouldn't die anytime soon. Although, the scare shaved years off his life.

Once was done with Rufus; he had to deal with Mao Mao.

Mao Mao strained against the net fruitlessly. Bao Bao looked up at his old friend, shivering, ears folded back with tail between its legs. Mao Mao probably couldn’t even hear the dog’s whimpers. He screamed at the top of his lungs. It was had no expletives. It had no threats. It only had a long, grueling explanation of his pain.

Badgerclops reached over, petting Mao Mao behind the ears. “Alright dude, let’s just chill and- “

Mao Mao quickly snapped at Badgerclops’ hand. His teeth clanging against the steel.  “C’mon dude, don’t do that. I don’t want to schedule a trip to the dentist.”

He let go of Badgerclops’ hand with a huff, but he still had that dark flame burning in his eyes.

“Badgerclops,” Tanya said, dropping down from the rooftops,” Is everything alright?”

“I’ve got things all tied up,” he said pointing to Mao Mao who didn’t find his joke amusing.

Tanya faced Mao Mao with a sullen look in her eyes. She reached out her paw to wipe a tear from his eye. Mao Mao shook her comfort away with an angry grunt. “Oh, Mittens,” she quietly cried. Tears began to fall down the Tanuki’s face, but Mao Mao didn’t notice or didn’t care.

“You should probably take Bao Bao and go before-”

Badgerclops was interrupted by a screeching roar echoed throughout the kingdom. Badgerclops facepalmed his own stupidity. He was so focused on the Bao Bao part of the message that they completely forgot about the monster. He could see the smoke, hear the screams as it rampaged.

“Tanya." He gave a slight nod of his head," where's Adorabat?"

“I left her at the house.”

Damn the fact that she was a responsible adult. She shouldn’t have to see this, but he did wish she was here. He and Tanya were the only ones who could fight; the dog was a maybe, and Mao Mao was still in the net.

“You think we can take it?”

“I… don’t know. Maybe?”

Fantastic. The moment he thought he had things under control they go right back to shit.

Badgerclops didn’t know how he knew to turn around. It was instinct. He saw the wall behind Mao Mao began to crack and crumble as the monster charged through. The beast was  large, green and scaly, like a snake with four legs. It moved like one too. Delicately turning on a dime, clinging to the side of a building while it stared them down.

His small hope that the beast would leave them alone was squashed when the monster saw the amulet around Bao Bao’s neck.

It lunged forward. Mouth open to show a wide maw. In a narrow alley like this, there was nowhere to run. It could probably get them all in one quick gulp. Badgerclops supposed such a terrible end fit such a terrible day.

A naïve thought.

Mao Mao stepped in front of the beast, sword on his back to block the teeth, heels digging into the ground as he forced the charging beast to a slow stop. Tanya, Bao Bao, Badgerclops, and the Mao Mao stopped in sheer confusion and awe. The monster didn’t hesitate. Its tail lashed at Mao Mao from the left, ripping at his skin like a whip. The tail lashed Mao Mao from the right, forcing him to stagger.

The third strike whistled through the air, barely blocked by Mao Mao’s sword. The next lash came with enough force to knock Mao Mao of balance despite blocking it. He parried the next strike, yet it still sent him cartwheeling through the air.

The second his feet touched the ground he was off. A black blur with a streak of gold. The gold cut the tip of the beast tail causing the monster to howl in pain before being silenced with a plunging attack through its skull. Badgerclops hates to admit it, but the bastard cat carried the sheriff's department.

He pulled his sword out of the monster and hopped down off the corpse. He dragged his sword on the ground behind him as he walked forward. His movements were smooth, flowing like a steady stream. Despite wearing an inviting smile, the dark flames in his eyes were raging like a wildfire.

Tanya stepped in front of him before he could get any closer. “Stop. Just… for the love of god stop, and let the dog go.”

“You’re right. I just want to... apologize to Bao Bao. Wish him well,” Mao Mao said with an almost cartoonishly large and toothy smile.

“Do I look some fucking clown to you? I know you’re lying! Just put the  sword down and let the dog go.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just want to say apologize to my childhood friend-”

SMACK!

Tanya interrupted Mao Mao with a strong slap across the face.

When he turned back the smile was gone; the dark flames still burning.

“Move,” he commanded.

“Why do you have to be like this,” she asked, her voice rising in pitch. “Can’t you just let things go? Whatever Bao Bao -this dog- did to you is in the past. It already happened and you can’t change it!”

“I know nothing can change it. I don’t expect it to. I’m not trying to change anything. I’m just trying to do some justice,” he said with a voice as cold as stone, “so, I’ll tell you once again: move.”

“No!”

Mao Mao didn’t hesitate to push past her, knocking her to the ground while he brought his sword down. Bao Bao quickly hopped out the way. Mao Mao followed the dog close behind, stabbing down over and over again, the calm facade splitting at the seams as his frustration grew.

“I’ll kill you,” he screamed, finally cornering the dog. He raised his sword up as Bao Bao looked up in terror.

Badgerclops grabbed his arm before he could finish. “Calm down! He’s just a dog-”

Mao Mao spun around, dropping the sword, tears welling in his eyes. “That dog ruined my life !”

“He did this! ” He pulled back the cape to reveal the stub of his left arm.

He picked the sword back up, raising it high over his head. “And I’m going to do it to him!”

Tanya was quick.

In a puff of smoke one, Bao Bao turned into thirty. In the second that Mao Mao stopped in confusion, she dashed forward, snatching the real one away before Mao Mao cut the horde into bits.

“Bao Bao,” he screamed,” get back here!”

Badgerclops tackled him to the ground before he could give chase. “Bao Bao! Bao Bao!” he screamed and screamed until his voice went hoarse.

* * *

Mao Mao lay in bed at HQ with his blanket tucked over his head. He felt like shit. Stopping the monster’s charge wore down the flesh on his feet to the bone, despite the monster's teeth stabbed seven holes into his back, one dangerously close to his spine, but the physical pain didn’t matter much. It was his feeling that were tearing him apart. It was one part burning rage; another part nauseating shame.

He heard footsteps approach. It couldn’t have been Adorabat cause she liked to fly (where did she go); they were too heavy to be Tanya’s (not like she wanted to speak to him anyway), so it had to be Badgerclops.

“How ya feeling,” he asked.

Mao Mao let out a small grunt.

“Camille said you should be fine. Just take it easy. Don’t try to jump around or anything.”

He made another small grunt.

“You feeling okay?”

Mao Mao nodded from under the blankets.

“Good to hear. Just get some rest, man.”

“What about Bao Bao,” he grumbled out. His throat was still raw and sore from all the shouting.

“Tanya took him with her.”

Mao Mao let out a shuddering sigh.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Mao Mao nodded more forcefully this time.

Badgerclops scooped Mao Mao up into his arms. Cradling the bundle of blankets and clutching him close. “Listen, I know we all have our issues and hangups, and I know this day has been hard for you-”

“You don’t.”

“Hm?”

“You don’t know how hard it's been for me! I hate-  hate - that dog. He’s everything wrong with me! I wanna wring his stupid little head from his silly little body!” Mao Mao choked on his words,” I wanna- I wanna…”

Badgerclops pet him behind the ears,” what do you want?”

“...I want to be alone for a bit.”

“How about this,” Badgerclops said,” I can take Adorabat camping for the weekend? We’d be back Sunday. You’d have the house to yourself. How does that sound?”

“Yeah,” Mao Mao slowly nodded,” Yeah, that sounds nice.”

#fanfic #mmhoph #Mao Mao #Badgerclops #Adorabat #Tanya Keys #Pinky #Rufus #Ho boy this is long #I'm hammering this poit in but I mean it #check out Spookylovesboba #She's funny #She does fanart #makes funny videos #she's great #MissingArm!AU

[ziracona]

How many people were tested just for others anyway? Gordon's wife and daughter, Daniel (the wiki says it was also for shoplifting but he was 16 so I call bs), literally everyone except Lynn and her husband in Saw III, and my memory past 3 is fuzzy but that one lying author's wife comes straight to mind. They weren't being tested for whatever John pretended his survival of the fittest policy was they were terrorized tortured and/or killed for basically nothing but the pain of the target.

Anon you’re so valid TuT 

ITS TRUE AND WE SHOULD ALL SAY IT!!! Also, I wrote this little part last, bc I just wanted to give fair warning that I went blind into a rage and wrote threethousand words about how much I hate John Kramer, full of very terrible language and spoilers for Saw 1-6, because I go that fucking feral at the sound of his name, and I can’t make everyone scroll past that so I’m putting most of it under the cut, but even if you decide you justifiably fear that rant and don’t read it, just know you are incredibly valid, and John can eat shit and die. Rant start:

John did that bullshit constantly! He would over and over put 1 (one) man he personally wanted to watch suffer on trial and sacrifice /scores/ of people for no reason. No trap, no way to escape, at someone else’s mercy completely or maybe with 0 chance even there bc JOHN KRAMER IS A SACK OF SHIT. 

He kills a house full of drug addicts in two, mostly just bc his wife worked w drug addicts and John hates drug addicts, and even though Amanda was in their literal exact same position she does jack shit to stop him and just watches people slowly have their organs deteriorate and start coughing up blood around her!! Including fucking Daniel! Who got an antidote but like, at the 11th hour. Do y’all even understand how biology works John and CO??? If you neutralize a poison after it has deteriorated parts of organs it might save your life but itS NOT A FUCKING HEALTH POTION. Poor Daniel Matthews probably will only live to be like forty tops if he’s super lucky because of that. And he did NOTHING!!! He had shoplifted bc he was going through a teen phase but he’s like sixteen! Everyone was dumb as shit as a teenager, and most people shoplift at some point in their life! It does not earn you slow deterioration of your organs! Poor kid not only watched a man burned to death in an oven, dude have his brains blown out, girl die of prolonged organ failure, and more shit, he himself /killed/ a man as a sixteen year old child to save Amanda Young because he’s got a good heart and is a good person, and that shit is awful! It’s traumatic to kill someone at any age, but as a teenager? And then he got knocked out by her and thrown in a tiny locked safe, tied up and gagged, and kept alive by an oxygen tank in an enclosed space after that massive trauma for or AT LEAST 24 HOURS ! He did NOTHING. It was all just a long-con sacrifice to get Eric Matthews to a specific location. Eric did some real shit, but god, even after everything Daniel did for Amanda and all John’s talk of innocents, neither of them ever even tell Eric he lived! Amanda just locks him up, fights, beats him to she thinks death, and then John keeps him locked up and isolated in a cell for months, only to make him choke himself slowly in a test he doesn’t actually get to participate in to keep a friend from being electrocuted. It’s all kinds of fucked.

Even Jeff did nothing worse than be depressed and obsessive and unavailable to his kid, all Lynn did was have a boyfriend after she and he separated (and tbh the only reason John took her was bc he wanted a doctor and hated her for being one of the docs who told him he had cancer bc John is a pettyass hypocritical stupid sack of shit!) I’m VIBRATING with hatred. Lynn was just a pawn in Amanda’s test! It never mattered if she kept John alive! It only mattered if Amanda decided to fucking shoot her!!! She did her task and died and JOHN KNEW THERE WAS A HIGH PROBABILITY AMANDA WOULD KILL HER AND DID NOTHING TO STOP IT BC JOHN CARES ABOUT NO ONE BUT HIMSELF THE FUCKING WORTHLESS LITTLE WORM. 

And the other victims in 3 are a poor college student who ran over someone on accident and feels massive guilt already and served jail time for it who gets his fucking limbs and then head all twisted off while begging for his life because JOHN KRAMER IS A PIECE OF SHIT AND SO IS JEFF TBH. BUT NOT AS BIG OF ONE. The poor girl who is stung up naked in a freezer and sprayed repeatedly with water till she is encased in ice and dead literally just saw the hit and run and ran away bc she was scared!!! Not to mention Jeff’s other kid who gets kidnapped and locked up as collateral! Even if she’s not hurt that’s FUCKING TRAUMATIZING FOR A YOUNG CHILD. And Allison Kerry did nothing wrong! Amanda kills her in the Angel trap literally just bc she’s investigating them! When he targets a detective John’s always like “Ho ho he, I am putting you on trial bc you are obsessed with your work”  LIKE, BITCH NO SHE FUCKIN AINT SHE DOIN HER GODDAMN JOB AND U DON”T WANT TO GET CAUGHT YOU STUPID FUCKING WHORE I FUCKING HATE YOU SO MUCH THAT JUST LOOKING AT YOUR FACE CAUSES ME TO PRODUCE SO MUCH EXCESS EPINEPHRINE I COULD BOTTLE IT AND SAVE IT FOR LATER. I swear to god, if I had a grenade and I was in the room trapped with a still breathing John Kramer, I would kill pull the pin and take us both! FUCK I would pull the pin and then french kiss the grenade as thanks for letting me see that sack of shit go right to hell!

I don’t remember all of four bc it was really terrible, so I don’t have a lot of thoughts there except woof, but there was a lot of bullshit. Like John’s lawyer who did nothing but try to talk to him about finances enough it pissed John off got kidnapped, won his first game, and then got kidnapped again BC THAT SHIT HEAD SURE NEVER KEEPS EVEN HIS OWN GODDAMNED WORD and was made pawn in the game and then shot bc he didn’t have a chance to save himsefl!!! 

In Saw one, also, again, Adam was never being tested. He was just a pawn too. It was Gordon who got to decide to kill him or not, and ADAM LIVED TO SIX OR WHENEVER THE FUCK THE TIME WAS AND JOHN STILL LEFT HIM TO DIE BECAUSE HE”S A HYPOCRITICAL PIECE OF SHIT!!!! And he’s not interesting enough for Johns MASSIVE brainshlong that obviously is so full of right ideas and enlightenment you MICROPENISEDtrulyIDIOTIC self-centered human garbage!  He only took Adam at all bc he was there! He said the reason was Adam was pathetic! ADAM WAS DOING HIS BEST YOU CRUSTY ASS RED ROBED TURTLE LOOKIN MOTHERFUCKER. He was a freelance photographer in New Jersey in his early 20s during an economic collapse, and still nice enough to be taking care of stray cats you FUCKING sack of dogshit! 

And Gordon? All he did was tell John he had cancer! He was cheating on his wife too, but like, the reason John picked him was that!!! HE THOUGHT!! GORDON SOUNDED TOO COLD WHEN HE TOLD HIM HE HAD CANCER I FUCKING HATE JOHN KRAMER SO MUCH. John Kramer really will see someone smile not as big a smile as he thought they should have given him and be like: “Yo, is anyone going to corkscrew their eyeballs off?” and not even wait for an answer. I fuuuuukning hate him. And that little shitface thought it was somehow chill to order someone else to kill Gordon’s wife and eight year old child who had done JACK SHIT wrong ever if Gordon wasn’t willing to brutally murder a kid in his early 20s who had done nothing wrong????! WHAT THE FUCK. Mr. KRamer.. QUICK QUESTION. WHAT. THE. FUCK. You self-righteous, self-centered, pretentious, pettyass, sadistic motherfucking goddamn worthless excuse for anything!

In five he’s finally dead so I can : ) once. BUT HE STILL FUCKS UP SHIT FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE. SO I’m STILL MAD. All the people Hoffman kills are ppl John told him to, so HE STILL MOTHERFUKIN RESPONSIBLE. In 5 it’s a bunch of people responsible kind of for deaths of people in a low-income neighborhood. One guy was paid to torch an abandoned building, and eight people died in the fire, but he didn’t know anyone was there and feels terrible. He thought it was vacant, it was just arson. Another is a journalist who found out about the arson, and didn’t break the story bc guy 1’s father bribed him. There’s a fire inspector who learned the truth and was bribed by the guy’s dad not to tell too. A city planner who was bribed into selling permits for the land. And Brit, who was the girl who paid for the arson, bc she wanted to make an apartment complex, and maybe actually knew about the 8 people and might have deserved some real payback–it’s unclear???? Regardless. I want to add that the cops had been investigating, had a strong case, and were about to arrest them and hold these people accountable in a legal manner, which John knew bc HOFFMAN WAS IN HIS POCKET, and John so hated the idea of them facing justice justice, he kidnapped them. The fire inspector got dragged into saw blades by her throat and torn apart, the journalist died to a nail bomb, and the city planner got electrocuted in a bathtub. The two who made it had their arms split down the middle up to the elbow to let enough blood out to save them.  I cannot. Just.

Anyway. In six, again at DEAD JOHN WHO WON”T QUIT FUCKING EVERYTHING UP’s request, a ‘game’ is played and William Easton (one of my fave protagonists bc he’s a piece of shit but damn if he didn’t have a real glow up in forty-five minutes) is thrown into a hell circuit. 

And so, undeservingly, is like, EVERYONE he fucking knows! His janitor Hank is first up. Target for…what was it? OHhhhhh right. He smokes. That was why. That makes so much sense john I’m sorry I doubted you PSYCH I CAN"T EVEN SAY IT AS A JOKE I JUST THREW UP A LITTLE IN MY MOUTH JOHN QUICK Q? WHAT THE FUCK? oh wait it’s because your an ABSOLUTE BASTARD. You would think I would get desensitized but no. It just. It’s fuel on the flame of my rage.

William Easton and the janitor, Hank, are hooked into something that slowly tightens and crushes their ribs any time they take a breath, and whoever doesn’t die first gets to live, and poor goddamn Hank smoked so ofc he can’t outlast a healthy dude in his 30s and John crushes his ribs just to make William watch someone die. Then he makes William pick which of two people to save in trial 2. MEANING HE GODDAMN STRAIGHT UP KIDNAPPED THESE TWO TOTALLY FINE WITH EITHER DYING, IN FACT WITH THE SOUL PURPOSE BEING TO DIE bc who cares about them right John? You fucking pretentious self-righteous creep! I have a year of the Pig teddy bear I named after Peter Strahm JUST for the FUCKING satisfaction of knowing John would hate that bc he was so into year of the motherfucking pig. ANyway. Plot again. Poor file clerk at Williams firm and the poor secretary are the two targets, and literally they did jack shit!!! They work for shitty lawyers but all they do is clock in to a 9-5 and file shit!! They are literally just there to rub it in William’s face that insurance policies aren’t fair bc according to them, one of the humans is worth more than the other bc health and age, but uuuuh oohhh William the older one with health issues is p hard to kill face to face bc you know her and she has kids and the young healthy man in his early 20s family is dead and he doesn’t have friends which means according to John he is worth less bc JOHN DOES THINK YOU CAN CHOOSE BETWEEN LIVES and all of this is here just bc John somehow thought it would be fun to fucking WIN A GODDAMN “I’M RIGHT” ARGUMENT WITH A LAWYER at the expense of brutally hanging a human being with barbed wire!!! 

Sidebar–if John Kramer was a real human being, I would go yearly on a fucking pilgrimage to his grave just to SPIT on his stupid corpse. I HATE HIM SO MUCH. 

K so young man dies. Then test 3 his attorney dies too, I don’t know much about her, except she is just there to make William feel like shit and they were into each other, and she tries to kill William after he gets hurt trying to save her bc he has the key to her trap in his stomach or chest idr, but she doesn’t get the key in time and dies, and then test 4 he finds his associates strapped to a carousel with a shotgun that picks one at random and blows off their head, and has to let all but two of them get gunned down and choose which two not to kill. And again, they’re kind of shittyass lawyers, but uh. Yeah. To save two, he has to let this huge piece of metal rip through his hand, but William does it and destroys his hand to save the two he can, and suffers picking while they all beg him to pick them bc John wanted to see him suffer picking between human lives again because he’s a goddam self-centered stuck up jerk who vales human life less then admiring his ugly ass dick in the mirror every day and pretending he’s a member of Mensa, the evil utterly irredeemable sack of shit. Anyway, at the end, William has never had a chance to live or die at all! And John was literally just torturing him for fun and killed /all/ those people not even for a test for William but /solely/ to make him suffer bc human lives DON"T MATTER ONE FUCKING IOTA to JOHN SHITASS KRAMER. WHO JUST WANTED TO WIN. AN INTELLECTUAL ARGUMENT. POST-MORTEM. BECAUSE he’s THAT kind of shittyass, pretentious, sanctimonious, better than thou, always right, incapable of wrong, smartest fucking asshole in the room man!!! I bet he doesn’t ever wash his hands when he takes a piss! I KNOW IT! FUCK John Kramer! 

ANd OH! William gets killed by a kid who hates him bc he turned down their father’s insurance policy fraudulently, knowing he would die of an illness without the money. BC William was terrible. Which is /so/ great for that fucking teenager! Killing someone horribly with acid while you watch them die and their body be melted! And they beg you not to do it and apologize on the other side of bars, already beat to shit, and plead for forgiveness, and your mom begs you not to, and the dude’s sister sobs and begs you not to!!! SO GOOD! Way to go john you FUCKING CUNT, they definitely value their lives now you goddamn motherfucking souless sack of shit!

I-I don’t even have the energy to do the other Saw movies or go back over the other victims in Saw one WHO DID NOTHING WRONG. John just hated them!!! BC HIS WIFE KNEW THEM! In most cases! John just fucking hates drug addicts! OK u know what here’s the short version even if I can’t do them justice rn bc I’m pissed!!! One guy got sliced to death on razor wire for cutting when he was depressed bc John is a piece of shit, one got burned to death after walking on glass for hours bc John doesn’t believe in invisible illnesses and if you’re walking you must be healthy, oh yeah! And the fucking dude Amanda killed in her first trial was just a drug addict! Going to a recovery clinic! He never had a chance to live on his own bc the only choice was if Amanda would cut open his intestines and sift through him for a key while he was awake but too drugged to move or not, and she did! Didn’t even get to plead for his life! ANyway!!!! Fucking as far as I can tell all Zep did was work at the goddamn hospital! He WENT OUT OF HIS WAY TO BE NICE TO JOHN and told other people he was a cool dude!!! He was just a janitor!!! WHAT THE FUCK???

I just. God. I hate everything about John Kramer. The way he talks makes me so LIVID I change color like a goddamned chameleon. He is so ready to argue his stupid shitty fucking ethics with anyone who breathes in a ten mile radius. Shithead John over here will strap you to a table and make you listen to him talk about how it’s not his fault he poisoned two people and gave them one antidote and a bunch of knives and one of them came out dead, and his hands are clean and people don’t value their lives so they should die while he watches eating fucking cereal I am just–I am so glad John has cancer? Like, the idea of Saw sans John having cancer is unbearable, because I am so afraid the writers would never let him die and we would never be free of the human cancer that is John. The only human being on the planet that has ever been able to make me root for the cancer. But boy in that one and only regard, John is special.

I hate him so much it is unbelievable. Like. I can’t even put it into words. THe pure, unbridled fury I feel when I hear John say, “D’oh ho ho, but I, with these two little handies of mine, hath never pulled the gun’s trigger! Got you there! Where is your science! Where is your god! I am no murderer! I heal people! By sawing off their faces! You just do not understand, oh poor unenlightened human that you are. May you be strapped to a machete car and blessed with my wisdom  😔” I absolutely lose control of 90% of normal human functionality, and all that I have left is righteous justice and bloodlust. It’s unbelievable.

Whichever one of you god-mode-brain peeps made that post saying Eric Matthews had the hardest test in the whole Saw franchise because he had to sit and listen to John Kramer talk for two hours was a GODDAMNED HERO and if you contact me and prove the tumblr account is yours I will paypal you ten dollars and a personalized note thanking you for the joy that gave me because I just really hate John Kramer that FUCKING MUCH. I would cut off my own toes to be able to have something to shove down John Kramer’s throat to make him stop. talking.

There are a lot of things in this world I hate bc I hate things that are unjust, but I hate absolutely nothing more in the universe than a villain who is a self-righteous, hypocritical asshole who won’t even admit that what they are doing is wrong and parades as the tragic genius hero despite knowing GODDAMN well that they are a petty, shitty, hypocritical, absolute fucking MONSTER with no redeemable qualities or capacity for love. And John Kramer is at least my second least favorite character in the history of ANYTHING. Maybe my first. I’m not even sure anymore! Nasty-ass, evil, pretentious, self-righteous, shortsighted, selfish, sadistic, voyeuristic, willfully ignorant, crusty ass useless soulless garbage little SHIT.

#ask #anonymous #John Kramer #Jigsaw #long post #Saw #Saw II #Saw III #Saw IV #Saw V #Saw VI

[xoruffitup]

Adam in Burn This (6/12)

I saw Burn This again on June 12th and HOO BOY, for this show I’ve got nothing but flail! I think I’ve already worked through most of my critical analyst urges already, so this is gonna be just pure, chaotic Adam fangirling. :’)

The man was robbed of his Tony. Pale is this character who I would absolutely hate on the page or in abstract. But then Adam, the utter jerk, barges and flails his way on stage and makes Pale so human and compelling and just absolutely riveting to watch that hating him becomes physically impossible. I mentioned before how the play functions to make the audience Anna’s proxy (down towards the end of the second section here), and never has that been truer than last night. I literally was Anna, okay. I was repelled and intimidated and scandalized by Pale’s uncontrollable, massive presence; his encroaching, searing physicality; his unpretentious, guileless anger and passions and frenetic creative energy.

One second, you’re watching this massive brickhouse tumble into crying, sniffling pieces so vulnerable and wrecked it could tear your heart out. The next he’s cracking a joke, flirting, cussing, and every single swing is so bracingly authentic that you’re literally pulled to the edge of your seat, unsure if in attraction or revulsion. Either way, you’re along for the wild ride with him every step of the way, feeling the same conflicted and unwilling compulsion towards him Anna is. Pale doesn’t just unwittingly seduce Anna; Adam absorbs every single audience member’s attention like a black hole and before you know it the audience is caring for him even before they have any hope of deciding whether they even like him. (Evidenced by the collective gasp of fear that rises from the audience when Pale, drunk, climbs outside onto a fire escape.) To call him magnetic, electric, a revelation to watch – They’re all woefully inadequate descriptions. He’s a literal inferno, blazing even when he’s silent.

So even though I have yet to reach a personal resolution on whether I accept Pale from an ethical perspective, I am nevertheless complete trash for him because Adam really leaves me no choice in the matter. Damn him. <3

Last night I sat in the upper balcony for the first time, but my friend brought binoculars we passed back and forth (lol, yes really) and I actually saw so many new, detailed nuances to Adam’s acting. I’ll go through the moments that really stood out – though it’s honestly hard to pick because he really is that Extra during the entire damn play.

Act 1

When he puts his leg up on the couch to show Anna how “fucked up” his pants are, then kind of realizes he’s standing there with his leg all weird up on the couch, asking her to look at his pants… Then just smoothly lifts his leg over the table before he lowers it, then makes the coyest face ever at her while he does this slow, deliberate twirl with the most shit-eating look on his face. The audience dies, then he cracks “I coulda been the dancer,” and the audience falls apart again.

The way you can feel his momentum and buzzing energy begin to darken, right before he breaks down completely. When he stops pacing around for the first time and his voice changes, going soft as the guilt and sorrow creeps up on him in the form of physical pain he feels driving straight through his heart. And it’s alarming, when he goes still for the first time.

I swear I’ve never seen him cry so much as last night. Once he broke down, the sniffling was constant, with these utterly, completely broken sounds mixed in whenever he tried to talk.

“Nah, this ain’t me…” “I’m trying to picture him here.”

And he keeps aggressively pushing his hair back while he’s crying, as if he can force the tears away with brute force.

OKAY so watching their first kissing scene through a pair of binoculars was like being personally undressed and ravished, holy god. A bomb could have gone off in the theater and he wouldn’t have looked away from her, he had such consuming focus. When he slides close to her, the first thing he does is slowly lift a hand to touch her hair, his eyes darting between where his fingers brush the strands and her face, gauging her reaction. And then when he leans in so slowly for the kiss, watching her first before his attention shifts to her mouth, and the kiss is slow and deep and….

Yeah I felt things.

From up in the balcony.

Adam’s kissing sex appeal is literally so flaming strong, I felt that heat from the damn balcony. I dare you to show me another man with such raw, intense sex appeal. Go on, I’ll wait. He asks her, “You okay?” when he pulls back, and she says in a sort of daze, “I’m fine.”

….Girl, I feel it too.

AHEM ANYWAY MOVING ON.

And then in the next scene, as if totally oblivious that he’s a literal tornado of sex, he just sweeps out the door with an over-the-shoulder “Alright I’m outta here” and it’s so blasé and masterfully hilarious.

Act 2 When he’s laying on the couch alone, half-asleep, and starts vaguely waving his arm in an attempt to remove invisible blankets. Then, without a single word, he reduces the entire audience to hysterics when he spends a solid two minutes pulling at the collar of his coat in a completely futile effort to take it off. That’s the level acting we’re dealing with here. He’s one-hand fighting his own coat and trying so damn hard and it’s the most entertaining thing of your entire year like WHAT EVEN.

God alsdfjsdlakjf okay when he comes out in the kimono robe and it’s open at first, for like 30 blissful seconds that massive, toned chest is out there to see above those tight black briefs and it is SO MUCH I blacked out and couldn’t even process the sight the first time I saw the play. …. Then he closes the robe, carefully ties it, fights with the sleeves because they clearly aren’t built for massive fuckin arms like his, and in an instant he’s the softest being I’ve ever seen and I’m confused as hell as to how I’m aroused and ‘omg bb’ adoring at the same time??? I think I need therapy? Or Adam needs to stop being massive and sexy but also awkward and soft at the same time, for the sake of my sanity?

I fail to imagine an image that will make my life more than giant Adam in this tiny bright purple silk kimono that barely reaches his thighs, bare foot, tying a dish towel around a pot of tea he just made like a tea cozy, then oh so carefully carrying the tea pot over to the table with his one arm still out of the sleeve and this look of intense focus on his face. I was overwhelmed and could not even begin to name the feels.

Let’s make it even WORSE shall we? When he hands Anna a cup of tea, kisses her forehead twice, says “That tea’s no good for a bad stomach. You want some milk?” then strokes her hair back, then asks “You want some eggs?”

GOD PALE GET OUT WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT

(^ We are all Anna)

The part where he sneakily picks up the phone to eavesdrop on Anna and Burton’s phone conversation, and stays completely silent for a long minute before hilariously bursting out, “YA GOT SOMETHIN’ TO SAY, BRUCE?!” And then AND THEN Anna angrily storms out of the bedroom and the bastard hides his face behind the empty robe sleeve and bats his eyelashes at her and bends at the knees in this cutesy little sorority girl squat and IM….?! “Real cute,” Anna says, trying real hard to be unimpressed, while the audience is in an uproar and everyone’s desperately trying to process all these newfound perplexing Adam Driver feels (WELCOME TO HELL, BITCHES. IT DOESN’T GET BETTER)

Okay okay there are SO many juicy bits during the exchange when Anna’s explaining she wants things to end between them. I was watching through the binoculars and when Anna says, “We’re apples and oranges.” He immediately gets this hella adorable smirk when he goes, “Oh yeah? Who’s the apple and who’s the orange?” Then the smirk grows when he’s all “Ever had an apple tart glazed with marmalade?” And then he’s just grinning because he’s so damn proud of how clever he is and he’s still in the FUCKIN purple kimono and he is ridiculous, I’d hate it if he didn’t own me body and soul.

Then it gets BETTER when he says, “You told me you ain’t been with no one else since you was with me a month ago. Me either. I figure one more time and we’ll have ourselves a hat trick.” And oh my GOD the shit eating grin! He looks at Larry, just grinning like a 5 year old and Larry gives him this hysterical disapproving, unamused shake of his head, but Pale just looks back at Anna full-on sunshine smiling and I’m like WHY ARE U MY PERSONAL BABY

(PS: JJ – That is what we need to see on Ben Solo’s face in TROS. You better deliver!)

He says some of my favorite dialogue here – The bit about “people walking down the street don’t mean a thing they’re doing.” He grows somber here, and this is a portion of the play’s call to its characters to strive for both emotional and artistic authenticity no matter what the price.

And then the scene gets heavy…. He stands up, disappears to get partially dressed, comes out, they start arguing, he’s still determined to make her see what’s clearly between them… And then she drops the definitive bomb over everything: “I don’t like you and I’m frightened of you.”

I watched his face through the binoculars while she delivered the blows, and it was literally like seeing a candle snuffed out. His expression melted like ice – Resolute and hard and determined one moment, and the next moment her words rush over and visibly crush him as the certainty melts from his face and leaves him empty and shell-shocked. Three seconds of silence when nothing moves but the set of his mouth and the light and strength in his face, but you’ve seen a grown man utterly crushed.

Ah, the last scene. In the first performance it was devastatingly, beautifully heartbreaking. In later performances it was humorous even while tragically inevitable. Either way, it’s brilliantly written and exquisitely acted. (Though as I’ve expressed before, I do prefer the more serious, helplessly sad versions.) I’ve never seen the two of them clutch each other as desperately and heart-rendering tenderly as they did in this performance. She fell into him on the couch, and he cradled her entire body to himself – Reaching a hand down to her thigh to pull her across his lap so his arms could engulf her entirely. They rocked together, and she clutched his arms still tighter to herself, and he kissed all over her hair while they made sounds near tears. And then Pale does break open a bit with something approaching a sob, before he curses and objects “I’m gonna cry all over your hair.”

But he only holds her tighter, as if they’ve both lost all conscious control over their bodies at this point, in the face of the all-powerful compulsion drawing them into each other’s orbits. The ending of this performance was absolutely stunning, leaving you with a myriad of unraveled emotions that are at once painfully incomplete and ill-defined, and yet just as bitingly complex and untamable as the most compelling moments of reality.

Over all, it’s nothing short of incredible to see how Adam continuously succeeds in upping his game throughout the course of the play’s run. He already brought the house down at the very first preview, and yet he manages to find new twists and interpretations to embody each and every time. What struck me this time is how boldly natural he’s become in the role – The way he leans into the accent like he’s really spent his entire damn life using the hard edges of the pronunciation like verbal brass knuckles. Adam has gotten to the point where just a single emphasized vowel sound brings the audience to hysterics:

“I heard that mollaaases you were pourin’ over maaam. Needed a shot o’ insulin.”

“Good niiiight, sleep tiiiiight.”

“Drinkin’ and thinkin’, man. Worse than drinkin’ and drivin’.”

“Fuckin’ hate Christmas. Look out… ribbons.”

“Get outta here; You’re useless!”

“Lemon will kill yaaa!”

“That was me and youuu up there.”

He has mastered how to pitch his voice for perfect, killer comedic effect. What’s more is how effortless he makes it seem; How utterly guileless. How he can swing from ugly crying to casual insensitive quip in the span of a minute, and make it just seem like the routine (if highly irregular) over-active synapses of a guy on coke. Even just his body language, the way he paces around the apartment in Act 1, completely out of sorts and out of his depth, like he’s never seen a coat rack or a stove before; A physical embodiment of his discomfiture with the emotions that don’t feel like they belong within him. His presence is imposing and even threatening, and yet his body language is alert and defensive, sometimes even self-flagellate. He embodies so many idiosyncrasies and tensions, it’s easy to see why his emotions burst from him in such tidal, chaotic floods.

I’m so thankful to have tickets to the final performance next month! I shudder to think of the feels I will drown in over how absolutely legend-level powerful Adam’s performance will be at that point. What a talent. What a man. 

I’d be overjoyed to receive any and all questions/thoughts about the play! :) Thanks for reading!

#Adam Driver #Burn This #Burn This Broadway #driverdaily #Pale

[blakelywintersfield]

what do you think about cancel culture?

So it took me a while to answer this ask ‘cause I have... a lot to say about the subject.

There’s a lot to unpack when it comes to cancel culture. Its roots I like to believe are well intended -- a means to alert vulnerable groups about individuals that have a history of hurting them. But people have taken it... way too far.

I think it’s important to hold people accountable for their actions. There’s a lot of people who get away with horrible things, simply because they produce likeable material (makeup, music, movies, entertainment, etc.). People like Jeffree Star, PewDiePie, and Kat Von D have gotten away with their horrific treatment of others for years because people enjoy their content -- and two out of three of them still are wildly successful. What pushes people over the limit? Often times it’s a matter of what white people take major issue in. In Kat’s case, being anti-vax. Is being anti-vax bad? Hell yeah it is. As someone who’s immuno-compromised it literally could lead to an early, painful, slow death for me. And don’t get me wrong, I wanna die, but not from something that takes months of suffering. But people blatantly ignored her other awful acts -- such as her antisemitic actions (telling her former boss to “burn in hell jewbag” (sic) in the form of writing on a photo she left for him and drawing a Nazi symbol on it), complacency in victim blaming (her neo-Nazi husband blames his daughter’s rape on his daughter), denying and viciously responding to criticisms about her pedophilic makeup names (”Underage Red”, “Lolita”, second not in reference to the Japanese style but the book), and actively killing her pets (she killed one cat by leaving a house full of burning candles -- cat knocked down the candles, house went up in flames, cat died; she also was found forcing a vegan diet onto her cats -- I’m unsure if this has continued but I believe one of her cats died from it). All of these are huge reasons to “cancel” her -- to boycott her products. But people didn’t actively hate her until she came out as anti-vax, something that effects the majority. And that’s part of the issue with cancel culture: people pick and choose what’s acceptable depending on how badly it effects them personally.

Let’s focus on the other two mentioned: Jeffree and Felix. Jeffree has a very, very, veryyyyy long past of being a racist piece of shit. Not even lowkey ignorant white person racist (i.e. ”I didn’t know making fun of AAE and viewing dreadlocks as trashy was racist”). I’m talking straight up using the n-slur, with the hard -er too, towards a black woman. And this was recent, too. There just haven’t been any physical references beforehand, only personal accounts. But people have defended him -- and still defend him -- on these actions, because he apologized. But then he’ll do it again a month later. And there’ll be definitive proof of it. He’ll keep doing it over, and over, and over again. And people will continue to excuse him because he keeps apologizing! That’s not how apologies work! As someone who’s been abused, apologies mean nothing if you don’t actively work on fixing what you’re apologizing for!! My abusers would apologize and then do the exact same thing again so many times that I lost count long ago! And of course, Shane Dawson hasn’t helped because he’s head over heels for the guy, so he’s been using his popularity to try and clear his name -- which is ironic, considering he’s been under fire for being racist in the past too. The only difference is he actually cleaned his act up, until now, of course. Because now, instead of creating racist content himself, he’s defending a chronically racist shitbag. And people continue to defend him, because his shitty actions effects mainly black women -- a minority in comparison to the amount of white people in the states. Jeffree continues to be wildly successful because his problematic behavior only effects a minority, and that’s... not okay.

Felix has a very similar history to Jeffree, but with antisemitism, and in my opinion he’s even worse because he’ll apologize then do something nice like donate to a charity. And that would be fantastic if he wouldn’t continue to do antisemitic things like actively support white supremacists. People continue to defend him because he does charitable things, but I constantly remind people that abusive people aren’t abusive 24/7 -- that’s literally how they get away with abuse. They abuse, then take you out for a fancy date, kiss you gently and tell you how beautiful you are. Then they do something abusive. It’s an endless cycle. And that’s honestly what Felix does. Apologize, do something really fucking nice, and then repeat his shitty action. And he has other extremely influential people defend him -- it’s why I had to stop following JackSepticEye and Markiplier. They continuously vouched for him. They continuously defended him. And they did it in the form of saying “he’s a really good person, I know him personally, he’s really fucking sweet and nice”. That’s what people say about the partner of someone really close to me! Their friends defend them all the time, but they’ve never seen how they treat my friend. They don’t know about how they are in a relationship. And that’s all we ever hear about abusers. No one wants to accept that their longtime friend is shitty. But Mark and Sean contribute to the toxic ideology of “defend your friends to the end”. And it disenfranchises those effected because 1) they’re not Jewish, they have absolutely no say in the matter, and 2) they’re abusing their popularity to keep their friend from being properly criticized. I don’t think either of them are shitty people, per se, but they’re being extremely toxic by not letting their friend see that they’re a repeat offender and need to either work on their shit or face the music. Mark and Sean both have the power to make Felix change if they just give him the ultimatum of “us or this”.

But I digress. The main issue highlighted here is that people who actually do bad things and continue to do bad things aren’t being held accountable because people don’t care to acknowledge what doesn’t directly effect them. This is the first main issue with cancel culture.

Let’s focus on another man under scrutiny: John Lennon. Now, let me put out there for disclaimer purposes that this man is far from perfect and has problematic parts to him as well. He’s done some shitty things. But cancel culture looooooooves to dig at this man. To put it crudely, they really enjoy beating this dead... man. And mainly over one really bad thing he did, which was hit his wife. However, people love to 1) over-exaggerate it, and 2) completely ignore how he handled the aftermath. Cancel culture often refers to him as a “wife beater”, as though this were a chronic habit or that he severely brutalized his wife. But they conveniently ignore that he apologized, both to her and publicly, taught himself about domestic abuse and spoke up for women’s rights, and even wrote multiple songs about how he fucked up and he shouldn’t be excuse for what he did. And, most importantly, his wife forgave him. The victim in this situation forgave him, and people still dig into this one thing and use it as their reason to hate him and his band to this day. Genuine criticism of him and what he’s done have gone to the wayside because of this one fact with no context, and it’s a huge phenomena because people, for whatever reason, love to hate popular things. Like I said, he’s done shitty things! He wasn’t perfect! But to use one issue that was literally resolved to hate him is just a lazy excuse to hate what’s popular, and that comes to our second issue with cancel culture: people want to hate what’s popular and will go to any lengths to excuse their hatred, even if issues that have been resolved.

The last main issue I have is that cancel culture is often set up in very black and white terms. Person does bad thing, they’re bad, end of discussion. But that’s... not how life works. Not at all. I know religion isn’t universal, especially Christianity, but there’s one point in Christianity that is universal: humans are flawed. No human being to have ever existed is perfect. And with the rise of technology and social media, a lot of mistakes have a permanent proof out there. Be it through tweets, tumblr or Facebook posts, Instagram or Snapchat stories, whatever it is, there is proof. And people like to take it way too far.

For example... well, I’ll use myself. There’s good things to not being tumblr famous, and I’m blessed with that, because I used to be a major shithead. Well. Okay, I still am, but I was bigoted, uninformed, and had a lot of internalized issues. For anyone that doesn’t know, I was raised in a conservative Christian household where my father was Southern Baptist and my mother had been raised Catholic (her personal religious views are much more lax though, thankfully). Both came from small towns in Illinois and Missouri respectively, and their parents, the same. I was aggressively homophobic and transphobic (ironic, eh?), covertly racist and sexist, and just overall a really shitty person. And while I didn’t join tumblr until after I’d finally started to grow, a lot of people on here are younger -- some even lying about their age and joining before they’re 13. And like me, many of these kids are in close-minded households. And for the longest time I refused to listen to other people because of the good ol’ backfire effect, but once I began to accept I was wrong, I learned. Of course I still have learning to do -- I always do. I always will. And that’s okay. But if I were 12 year old me on tumblr today, I would, well. I would’ve probably killed myself by now, because of all the bullying and hate for being a shithead child. A shithead, yes. But a child. Someone that’s going to be ignorant to a lot of things because they haven’t been alive for as long. And not everyone has informed parents that make it a point to teach them. Adults are a little harder to forgive, I’ll admit, but children have a lot more potential to learn and grow, and we often treat them just like adults.

The final issue with cancel culture is that it gives no room for improvement and no assumption of someone’s innocence. While it hurts to be on the victim end, we as a whole are obligated to correct the issue. I personally would like it to be those not effected doing that (i.e. someone making a transphobic comment having other cis people explain why it’s transphobic and isn’t okay), but regardless, we need to assume innocent until guilty with these kinds of things. It’s not easy, sure, but if I had been on tumblr while I was a shitty kid parroting my dad’s awful world views, cancel culture would’ve labeled me a piece of shit with no chance of redemption, and if I didn’t kill myself there’s no fucking way in hell I would’ve learned, because that kind of treatment would’ve stuck with me and made it harder for me to listen to the other side’s reasoning, even if they were right. We need to approach people in a manner of calm education, instead of ready to kill. In no way am I saying this is an easy thing to do, but unless they’ve refused to open themselves up in any way whatsoever, immediately chalking someone up as a lost cause is just... counter-productive. We have to acknowledge that people are flawed, and can learn and grow. We need to give people space to improve. It’s not all or nothing.

All in all, cancel culture has a good base, but its execution has become irrational and a means to justify hating those that really don’t deserve it, while turning a blind eye to those that actually are problematic. There’s a lot to be improved on.

#ask #long post #cancel culture #this is not an invite for discouse on anyone mentioned in this post #seriously i don't want to hear it #especially felix stans #Anonymous

[meremennen]

This is going to be a thematical series.

1: Work In Progress Works

Okay, hear me out. Work in progress works are so underappreciated. 

And even though I’m not sure if all of these works will be continued, some probably not, but I love them for a reason and they deserve a shout out. They are all honestly so great for various reasons (for plot, for characterisation, for the idea itself, for writing style or for editing, etc.) and I don’t regret any minute of reading them. 

The list, sorted by current ratings:

aphelion (modern/ G /space pirates, loosely based on Firefly, multiple POV)

Arrangement of a Lifetime * (modern/ G/ fake/pretend relationship)

Heaven Can’t Wait (canon/ G/ kidfic, fluff and angst)

Hello, Princess  (modern/ G/ college/university, slow burn, Maths nerds, humor)

I Know I Don't Deserve It, But Stay With Me A Minute (modern/ M/ 10 Things I Hate About You AU (loosely)

Let’s Go to the Mall! * (modern/ G/ denial of feelings, high school)

mind if i check you out? * (modern/ G/ bellarke library au, rivalry)

The Rest Was History * (modern/ G/ fake dating)

The Will ‘o the Wisps (modern/ G/ fantasy, faes)

This is where you fall, this is when you get up * (modern/ G/ cowboy!Bellamy)

Baby Mine (modern/ M/ Jane the Virgin AU)

Now and Then * (modern/ M/ best friends to lovers, past and present)

The Art of Disappearing * (modern/ M/ fake marriage)

Up In Flames * (canon/ M/ post season 1 AU)

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake (modern/ M/ slow burn, fake dating)

All Is Love (modern/ E/ kid fic, unplanned pregnancy)

Bite Me (canon/ E/ season 1, affectionate insults)

Friends With Benefits (modern/ E/ college/university, friends to lovers, humor)

The Prisoner and The Cure * (modern/ E for gore/zombies)

Weave Me A Myrtle Crown * (modern/ E / firefighter!bellamy, paramedic!clarke)

Happy reading!

I don’t know everyone’s tumblr, or if they have any, so if anyone is actually reading this and you wanna tag them, please do so.

Ratings are indicative and might change.

* – probably won’t be updated, but we can always hope

***************************************************************************

All Is Love (E) by @bisexualbellamyblake (AO3: lightyears )

135k+

Summary: It all begins because Raven declares that she's on a sex ban for three months. Clarke reminds her of this when her life is turned upside down. Raven reminds Clarke later, when everything finds its place again. / Or, Clarke finds out she's pregnant six weeks after Bellamy leaves. 

*** S l o w burn. And that moment when they reunite, or when Bellamy finds out about Clarke’s little secret tortured me in ways that hurt a lot. But hey, still breathing ;-) ***

aphelion (G) by @kindclaws  (AO3: kindclaws )

45k+

Summary: It's been two years since the spaceship Aphelion mysteriously disappeared, its crew branded by the ARK as traitors to be shot on sight. Jake Griffin was on that ship, and with him, a dangerous secret that could change civilized space forever./ Now, Clarke wants some answers - and revenge, if she can get it. Bellamy wants a bigger ship - specifically, Clarke's. Wells wants to fix the system his father broke. Octavia wants a little fun. Miller wants everyone to stop making poor life choices. Harper wants to kiss the new girl. And Raven? Well, Raven just wants to blow shit up./ The universe won't know what's hit it. (Space pirates AU!)

*** what I love the most about this fic is the multiple POV! It is so rare to have these kinds of stories, and honestly, it gives such a unique feel to it. I am so, sooo grateful for this fic. ***

Arrangement of a Lifetime * (M) @ FFnet: moomolie1709

55k+

Summary: He needed her to pose as his girlfriend, and she needed him to make her unfaithful ex jealous. But what began as a simple transaction between two business partners soon becomes more complicated than either of them could have ever anticipated.

*** without giving too much away, there is a really cute bedsharing scene and another scene with Clarke in a dress that I loved a lot. Sadly, it also ends after a huge cliffhanger, and I really doubt this will ever be finished, but it deserves to be on this list. And like with every other WIP, You NeVER kNOw. Your comment might just be the one that makes the lovely writer to finish it.*** 

Baby Mine (M) @ AO3: stumblesun

80k+

Summary: A routine doctor's appointment, a mix-up and an artificial insemination...what could go wrong?

*** I haven’t watched Jane the Virgin, but you don’t have to. S l o w burn ***

Bite Me (E) by @notnicorette (AO3: notnicorette)

10k+

Summary: 'Bite me' is a common insult, right? People say it all the time. Except...Clarke ends up screaming it at Bellamy... And, for once...he does take one of her orders.

*** good old season 1 feels!!! And you know, who says it didn’t happen, just because we haven’t seen it on screen ***

Friends With Benefits (E) @ DreamofInception on AO3

60k+

Summary: Clarke Griffin and Bellamy Blake hate each other. But they like each other naked.

*** Such an excellent humor!!! And heartbreak. ***

Heaven Can’t Wait (G) by @randomly-random-jen (AO3: justanotherjen ) 

45k+

Summary: With the Apocalypse banging at their door, the Arkadians and what's left of Trikru take refuge in the remains of Alpha Station and hope for the best./ Over 500 souls crammed into a tin can, but there's only one that has Bellamy wrapped around her little fingers.

*** post season 3 canon divergent, it’s so raw and emotional, and I love this Bellamy so, so much!! ***

Hello, Princess (G) @ AO3: moonyredmoon

Summary: Professors and TAs were supposed to teach and help you. They were supposed to appreciate students who took the time to come see them and ask questions. If nothing else, they were supposed to have a clear explanation when it came to questions on grading. Instead, Clarke had even more questions and only one new piece of information… / Bellamy Blake was an asshole.AU with Clarke in college as a pre-med student, and Bellamy her Calculus TA. More characters and tags will be added as they are introduced.

*** SLOWBURN, Maths nerd Bellamy tutoring Maths nerd Clarke is such a unique concept and I love it so much!! ***

Let’s Go to the Mall! * (G) @ AO3: Willaphyx

20k+

Summary: Clarke Griffin was looking forward to a summer of working at her favorite art store in the local mall. That is until she found out who works at the bookstore across the hall: Bellamy Blake, who quickly becomes Clarke's least favorite person. But it would seem like Bellamy doesn't quite feel the same. With the whole summer ahead of them, who knows what could happen?

*** It’s super cute. ***

mind if i check you out? * (G) @ AO3: earthandsky

5k+

Summary: "'Literally, he’s the only clerk to get requests from patrons,' Monty had told Clarke a few days ago, rolling his eyes. 'People come to the desk with all of their stuff and will specifically ask for Bellamy to check them out.' / Raven had grinned. 'I think they’d rather check him out.' / Monty had pulled a face but didn’t disagree. Apparently, Clarke was meeting him today. And he was going to train her. Awesome." / Bellarke Library AU.

*** Just read it. It’s great! ***

Now and Then (G atm, though it’s rated M) by @100yearsofbellarke (AO3: InfiniteBeauty93)

30k+

Summary: Growing up since birth together Bellamy and Clarke have been through the best and worst of times. But when Bellamy gets engaged and Clarke confesses her love to him he rejects her leaving her heartbroken. Now spending a week at her family's vacation house with Bellamy's in preparation to his wedding the past and present collide.

*** well, normally I don’t read anything with e.cho but this story was posted before the dark days, and trust me, it’s good. I’m really loving the alternating timelines!!! ***

I Know I Don't Deserve It, But Stay With Me A Minute (G, possibly turning M) @ AO3: belgardebells

45k+

Summary: Octavia Blake isn't allowed to date until her big brother Bellamy does, so she calls in a favour from her best friend Clarke Griffin. All Clarke has to do is seduce Bellamy, fake date him, and then break things off when Octavia starts going out with her waiter conquest. It's supposed to be quick, easy, and painless. And it is. Until Clarke starts falling for real.

*** this author has multiple WIPs (I recommend them all) and a really unique writing style and humor ***

The Art of Disappearing (M) @ AO3: Jenye

20k+

Summary: The first night they met they witnessed a grisly murder. Now they’re being placed into the Witness Protection Program. Starting life over in Ark, Minnesota was definitely not part of Clarke’s five-year plan. And gaining a wife certainly wasn’t something Bellamy saw himself doing this year.

*** Bellamy and Clarke falls in love in witness protection ***

The Prisoner and The Cure * (E for gore) @ AO3: PaintedGhostOrchid 

30k+

Summary: The US has been transformed into a barren, post-apocalyptic wasteland after a viral outbreak leaves society in shambles. But Clarke Griffin is a girl on a mission to her mother's research facility to deliver the only-known cure- if only she can avoid the free-roaming criminals who are determined to kill her, led by one particularly terrifying (and handsome) escaped prisoner who will stop at nothing to get what he wants. / Loads of Bellarke tension, human survival, the occasional zombie (but not much), jealousy, and romance.

*** Bellamy as a grumpy prisoner trying to save his sick sister. And then, there is Clarke. She is special. They are fighting their way through the zombie apocalypse.  ***

The Rest Was History * (G) @ AO3: Tate

25k+

Summary: Historian Bellamy Blake needs to impress his potential bosses at ARK Enterprises. He's got everything they're looking for, except the girlfriend that his best friend Raven Reyes assures him will win them over. But that's okay, because Raven's found just the girl. Only, there's one problem. Bellamy Blake and Clarke Griffin really, really hate each other.

*** ummm, quite a few tropes in this. One of the details I really, really loved is the name of the car and fLUsTeREd Bellamy.  ***

The Will ‘o the Wisps (G) @ AO3: DracoTerrae

5k+

Summary: With his kingdom falling to darkness, Jake Griffin barely managed to escape to another world, his young daughter, Clarke in tow. Twenty years later, Clarke wanders a little off the designated trails and stumbles into the very world her father left behind. Now desolate and under the shadow of darkness, Clarke slowly gathers a ragtag group with whom she will fight the powers that brought this world to its knees.

*** it’s very mysterious at the moment, only a few chapters in, but I cannot wait to read more. On hiatus, but I have faith ***

This is where you fall, this is when you get up (G) by @queenofchildren (AO3: queenofchildren )

35k+

Summary: In which Bellamy is a grumpy cowboy, Jake knows a good steak when he eats it, and Clarke makes a decision.

*** COWBOY BELLAMY, WHAT ELSE DO YOU NEED? ***

Up In Flames * (M) @ FFnet: lucawindmover

60k+

Summary: AU Post Season 1 finale. They were meant to be used as a new influx of genes for Mount Weather. But Clarke Griffin and her band of survivors would not be going along willingly.

*** The MM made them do it. Sooooo, I wish I could say this story will continue!! Anyway, I just love this one so much, it has to be on this list. ***

Weave Me A Myrtle Crown (E for abuse and sexy times) @ AO3: AJRedfern

75k+

Summary: Clarke's not a woman easily shaken - she has a reputation of being 'logical, level-headed if a little cold-blooded'. And then she gets assigned as the new Paramedic In Charge to Firehouse 82. Amidst the people she's starting to call her friends, is Bellamy Blake: heroic firefighter, exemplary Lieutenant, complete asshole. Normally, this would have been fine - it's not the first time she's had to work with someone she despised. Except dreams keep plaguing her. Dreams that start the day she first met him. Dreams of a different life, a different time, a different world. Dreams of him, of her, of them. Dreams that start to feel like memories. Yeah, her carefully constructed facade isn't going to survive Firehouse 82.

*** Reincarnation (?) AU. I wish I could say this will be updated, but I have doubts. Regardless, the parallel timeline/flashbacks are giving the story an amazing flavour, and the UST is excellent ***

Win a Date with Bellamy Blake (M) by @bittyab18 (AO3: Bittyab18 )

125k+

Summary: Clarke Griffin's best friend enters her in a contest to win a date with Bellamy Blake, famous actor/Hollywood heartthrob/bad boy. Except, Clarke already knows Bellamy, and she's not a fan of him or his movies. Because her life sucks, she wins, and now she's reintroduced to the guy she loved to hate in high school. 

*** So much UST, so much angst and so much cuddling. A true s l o w burn. ***

*****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************************

I hope you will give it a go and show these writers some love.

***************************************************************************

Coming up next (probably): 

Fake dating/Arranged Marriage/Accidental Pregnancy

#bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fanfic #bellarke fanfic rec #fanfic rec #ff bellarke #meremennensbellarkeficrec #my stuff #Part 1: WIPS #kukkoriqueue

[cordytriestowrite]

Late Night Study Session

Bucky x Reader

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Summary: Finally, the handsome Steve Rogers takes up your offer to be study buddies and you swear you could make it more if only Bucky Barnes wasn't everywhere you turned. (College AU)

Bucky had to pry your arms off of him after shutting off his motorcycle, obviously in good spirits despite your fear. When he pulled the helmet off your head your sense of hearing returned and you could hear the indistinct thumping bass coming from the two story house you stood before.

"Come on, let's get in there. Get our party on." You turned back to Bucky, catching him in a silly yet graceful set of moves. His tongue touched his upper lip and suddenly you found your tension slip away. You laughed genuinely at him and allowed him to put his arm around your shoulder and lead you inside. This is the stress relief you needed. Sure a bath would have been nice, but drinking and partying with friends was the quintessential college stress reliever. Bucky opened the front door confidently and led you inside.

The music was even louder inside. You felt the bass in your chest and allowed yourself to slow and take in the scene. There weren't tons of people from what you could see. A handful were dancing in the living room, a smaller amount were standing in the open kitchen playing beer pong, and looking straight through to the back of the house you could see a large firepit and a few faces illuminated by the flames, including Tony's. You pulled Bucky's attention away from the kitchen and pointed outside. You expected him to release you, to join the group playing beer pong and leave you to your friend, but his arm remained around your back as you both made your way through the house.

"Babe, you made it!" Tony bellowed as soon as you opened the sliding glass door. He moved precariously around the flames to hug both of you around the middle and place big, wet, drunk kisses on your cheeks. You laughed along with the rest of the partygoers enjoying the open air.

"Sorry we're late," Bucky began, catching everyone attention and settling down the giggles. "But someone," he glared playfully at you, "was being difficult."

"Oh that's just like her." Tony scoffed. It really wasn't 'just like you' and though you tried to protest that flow of conversation ended and everyone easily went back to their own repartee. You could only glare not-so-playfully at Bucky as Tony made his way back to his seat.

You were being guided yet again by your ever present nuisance to a set of empty camping chairs in between an unfamiliar man and....

You pulled yourself out from Bucky's side at the sight of Steve. Did he think you two were together because Bucky's arm had been so comfortably across your neck before? Shit, you didnt even know he would be here! Why didnt he tell you? Why didnt he ask you to come with him? You feel the tension slowly build back into your chest. If it wasn't school you were stressed about it had to be your love life. You were about to take the seat next to Steve, hoping to salvage your single image and restate your availability when you were forcibly moved one seat down by hands on your hips. Of course Bucky would literally interfere with you and Steve.

The men started a discourse easily, including Sam who was sitting next to Steve. You felt awkward watching them chatter on when you were so obviously not invited to join them. You suddenly felt alone, even bitterly wishing Buck's attention was back on you.

"Hey, we havent ever been properly introduced. I'm Bruce." The stranger next to you offered his hand, which you took after an embarrassingly long moment, offering your own name.

"I know." He said with a small shrug, "Natasha talks about you all the time."

"Oh, you know Nat?" Your curiosity was piquied at the connection to your roommate.

Before Bruce could respond Nat opened the sliding glass door and joined you outside, as if summoned by the sound of her name. She carried two red solo cups in one hand right toward you. Your brow was furrowed as you watched her settle into Bruce's lap and hand him one of the cups.

"Hey roomie." She said casually, taking a long sip from her cup.

"Hey." You continued to stare at the canoodling couple. They seemed too comfortable to have just met, and too innocent in their touches to be a casual hookup. You could only come to one conclusion.

"Are you two dating?" You finally asked. Bruce and Nat nodded in tandem. While Nat's face remained ever impassive, Bruce looked at you quizzically.

"Its been about a year now. Did Natasha never tell you or something?" He laughed out the question as if it was an unbelievable thought. Nat's eyes didn't meet yours as she took another sip from her cup. Bitterness rose like bile in your throat and you felt it burn through to your eyes. You laughed along with Bruce but the sound was empty.

Sure, your roommate kept you at a distance, always vague about her past and personal life, but after three years of living in tight quarters you thought she would have told you she was dating someone, especially for almost a year. There was so much you had shared in an attempt to connect with her and right here in front of your own eyes was something she chose to withhold. You felt betrayed in a way, and now so much lonelier than you had felt only minutes ago. Your mood was tanking fast.

"I'm going to grab a drink." Your voice came roughly as you announced your exit to nobody in particular. You stood from the chair and made your way inside, not looking back.

You let the heavy bass mix around the bitterness and loneliness as it shook your empty chest. There were too many people around, the living room was too loud and the kitchen was too bright. A drink would have been nice but right now you needed to wipe your eyes of the tears you were struggling to keep from running loose. You turned down a short hallway in search of the bathroom and found it behind the second door you opened.

The bathroom was quiet and clean and if it weren't for the muffled babble and laughter that occasionally broke through your sniffles you could believe it was okay to wallow here forever. You cleared your nose and wiped your eyes hurridly, not wanting to be gone for too long or monopolize the bathroom. You were splashing some cold water on your cheeks when a rough knock came to the door making you jump. You checked your face again quickly assessing your red rimmed eyes before opening the door, keeping said red eyes downcast.

"Sorry." You apologized to the awaiting patron. You moved out of their way to allow passage only to find yourself pushed unceremoniously back into the small room.

"Why are you crying?" You heard Tony ask as he closed and locked the door.

You found fresh tears making their way down your cheeks and you didnt bother to wipe them away. You sat on the closed lid of the toilet and allowed your closest friend to offer his metaphorical shoulder. His real shoulder was too busy leaning against the door, barring it from any escape.

"Did you know she had a boyfriend? I didn't. She didn't tell me. She never tells me anything, Tony. I thought we were friends."

Your head remained lowered as you revealed your heart, but as always Tony was there right in your face. He shook your shoulders none too gently and his eyes met yours.

"Who needs a friend like her when you have a friend like me, huh? Am I not good enough for you?" You allowed a giggle to push it's way through the lump in your throat and Tony's face exploded with his million-watt smile. He landed a gentle punch to your chin before grabbing your cheeks, pulling and pushing them until your laughs echoed against the small, tiled walls.

"You always got me," he whispered, staring at you lovingly. You nodded in agreement. "And you also have that hot piece of ass out there. I'm sure he'd be happy to take your mind off of the roommate drama."

You rolled your eyes, moving your hands to Tony's shoulders and shaking him as roughly as you could.

"He's not anything to me Tony, you know I like Steve. All Bucky has done is get in my way." Your grumblings did nothing to change Tony's mind. You found your melancholy replaced with exasperation, which was probably Tony's intention.

"You keep telling yourself you like Steve, but look in here," he pushed a finger harshly into your chest, "and in those trashy books you're obsessed with and realize you've always been about the bad boys, darlin'."

You were about to protest, come to Steve's defence as well as your own, but Tony pulled you up and opened the door, pushing you out before you could say a word.

-

With Tony Stark by your side it was hard to remain gloomy, that's why you loved him despite all his other...qualities. He kept your mind occupied with dancing and gossip and your hand always held a cup or a can. Tony must have also made sure Natasha and Bruce kept their distance, as you didnt see them the rest of the night.

"Middle." Sam called his shot before the small ball soared through the air and bounced off the rim of the middle cup. Sam, Steve, and Bucky groaned from their side of the table while you, Tony, and Thor jeered. Thor was a nice addition to the night, and as the host of the party it was hard to say no to letting him join your game. He had an arm on him and good aim.

"Far left." Thor called in his deep, accented voice and you watched it sail with bated breath. The ball landed perfectly within the called cup, not even touching the rim. Another cheer errupted from your team.

"Good thing you're letting us stay over Odinson," Sam shouted over your celebration. "Because I'm fucked up. That's the only reason we're losing."

"All losers are welcome in my home." Thor boomed, his arms extending wide. You ducked out of the way of his long reach, but he only grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you into his side. "And winners too of course."

You laughed and wriggled from his grasp, his jovial spirit not effected by your discomfort. Your eyes flicked to Steve, to see if he held any jealousy in his eyes, any longing stare at seeing another man's arms around you, but his focus was on his turn, the ball already in his hand ready to throw.

Steve managed to take out another cup, bringing you down to a tie with three cups remaining. With your turn you stepped up to the table. You were by far the weakest link on the team, though Thor more than made up for your terrible aim. You didn't bother calling your shot and just hoped you could make it into one of the three cups.

"You ain't gonna hit it Drools." Sam heckled. You ignored him, only focusing on the cups at the end of the table. Pale and dark hands alike began to wave just over the cups, making you nervous.

"Cut it out guys I'm bad enough as it is." You whined.

The hands ceased their teasing and you took your shot, missing the table entirely. The ball landed in Bucky's awaiting hand.

"My turn sweetness." You had discovered the more Bucky Barnes drank the more pet names he gave you. Sweetness, doll face, babydoll; it's like he forgot your name entirely.

The ball landed with a plop and the merriment switched sides as the men pulled ahead.

"Drink up." Bucky teased. You glared as you pulled the ball out of the lukewarm beer, bringing the cup to your lips and drinking the liquid down.

-

"You fought a good fight." Bucky consoled softly, wrapping his arms around your middle. You scoffed.

"Dont patronize me Barnes."

You pushed against his chest halfheartedly. The hour was late enough to be considered morning and you found you were ready to allow the night to end. Bucky laughed sluggishly in your ear as he rested his head heavily on your shoulders, breath exhaled warmly onto your neck.

"Let's get him to bed." Steve whispered, entering your vision beyond Bucky's large shoulder. You nodded and Steve pulled his friend from your arms, letting him lean against his side as everyone made their way up the stairs, not one person successfully climbing the steps without stumbling. Thor opened the door on the right.

"Guest bedroom. Bed, couch, floor. Figure it out."

You all called a chorus of thanks as he headed into his own room on the left, throwing a hand up to wave goodbye without turning around.

"I call bed." Tony rushed into the room before everyone else. He let himself curl up on the far side of the bed and judging by the snores promptly passed out.

"I got a bad back." Sam groaned, rubbing his lower back for emphasis. No one protested when Sam fell heavily onto the mattress next to Tony.

"Me and Buck can take the floor. You take the couch okay?" Steve, ever the gentleman, offered.

"The couch is big enough for two people. I dont mind sharing." You bit your lip, hoping Steve would take you up on your offer to share the close quarters of the couch. You released your lip to grin widely when Steve nodded.

This was your moment. The moment you had been waiting for. The moment your breath would mingle with Steve's and your lips could meet in the blissful quiet of sleepy drunkenness. He jerked his chin at the couch and you rushed to place yourself upon it, you turned onto your side to allow Steve plenty of room and make it easy for your head to rest on his chest as you fell asleep.

But then Steve was depositing Bucky onto the couch next to you, lifting his legs onto the cushion before looking up at your shocked expression. He smiled his beautiful, perfect smile and you almost missed what came out of his plush, kissable lips.

"You're a good friend."

Tag list is open! @dugan365 @m-a-t-91 @kali-mav @ohhhotstan @becauseismellgood @hawaiiantozier @cami23593 @ishipmybed @soldierplum @temenetomson @minniesugakookie @elwenia @sweetpeasprincess @kali-rambles @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen @dafnouche @to-be-a-sunshine @vquezada84 @snortswithgiggles @lilypalmer1987 @imarockstar45 @marvel-baddies @spacezombiie @sebbystanlover-vk @lexthetexbruh @kitkatkate45 @janineabad @ellaenchanted91

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fic #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #steve rogers #tony stark #thor odinson #natasha romanov #sam wilson #marvel fandom #marvel family #marvel fanfiction #college au

[yoshimickster]

RWBY Vol 5 episode 11: THIS IS IT-I think(spoilers).

OOF-one hell of a party last night, my brother’s friend had this SUPER intense basil vodka that was liquid intensity-BUT FUCK THAT SHIT-onto the Micksterecap! And you know how it’ll start folks-

NOTHING HAPPENING! Its cool, after last episode I have accepted the pacing as a brilliant use of slow burn. Nice night though, look at that big ass, not disintegrated moon!

1:44

HAHAHAHA-oh man, they both be sharing the same “This is fucking bull shit” face. Oh I be they’ll get along like aces when Weiss finally proposes to Yang.

1:51

Ruby: Oh, shit, look at that thing!

Ruby: That is one nice ass slightly leaning tower!

Qrow: Ruby quit possibly foreshadowing and get a move on, we’re meeting Leo to what is TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOTALLY not a trap.

Yang: Man, out of ALL the guys on your side do turn evil, lucky it wasn’t one of the SMART ones right?

Qrow: Well...lucky by MY perspective.

They all then slowly walk INTO-

2:24

...a...trial room? Or the entrance to a trial room? *GASP*-is my RWBY/Ace Attorney fan fiction FINALLY coming to fruition?! AND YES-Qrow would be the Phoenix.

2:33 Leo: Thank you for...uh...coming.

Qrow: Oh god dammit Leo, WHO TAUGHT YOU HOW TO LIE?!

Weiss: I take back EVERYTHING I ever said bad about you Ozpin in season 1, this guy is WAY dumber!

Oz: Water under the bridge.

2:41

Qrow: Eh, you know what they say, the more the merrier.

DAMN-hitting the title THAT early in? My “Shit going down”-ameter is going off the CHARTS!

2:42 Aw man, LOOK AT HOW COOL HIS WEAPON IS! He better use it before Qrow logically murders him and/or he returns to the light side of the force.

Leo: Why...did you bring your weapons?

Qrow:Leo...you are literally wearing a weapon right  now. As am I, like I ALWAYS do, as the rest of them now do because they know that this world is a scary nightmare factory.

Leo: Yeah...I am DUMB!

2:54 Yang: Hey, what’s that shit?

2:59

Yang: DAMMIT MOM-17 years you’ve been avoiding me, only NOW do I see you regularly, AND ITS WHEN YOU’RE TRYING TO KILL US!

Raven: I AM TRANSFORMED!

And then she turns BACK into a human, all while telling Leo his nepharious misdeeds movie style, utterly ruining Leo’s all ready terrible plan. You’re fault for trusting scary teleporting bird ladies dude!

 4:38 Ruby being the cinnamon roll she is TRIES to get Raven to rejoin the light side  and quash her defeatist attitude. 

AND IN PREDICTABLE BITCH RAVEN FASHION-

4:51 Raven: You sound, just like your mother.

And she says it in a REALLY nasty way too, like you just wanna STAB this bitch. And OF COURSE-

She opens a portal that...shoots a fireball?

4:56

Oooooooooooooh, right right right, Cinder, that makes  more sense. Was thinking her portals worked glyph style or something. ALSO-was Cinder just waiting all this time for a portal to open and then shoot a fireball through it? I hope she was sitting down, this took a while to plan.

5:05

Shit, the whole GANG is here. Ah well I bet there will be NO-ONE else joining-

-AND HERE COMES DEATHVOICE-hoo boy. We THEN see the whitefangbangers-

5:44 Setting up bombs ALL around the tower that was foreshadowed earlier! Preeeeeeeeeeeeeetty obvious Rooster Teeth.

Look at him, he’s like a kid with a new toy! A murderous, murderous new toy.

6:19 OH SHIT-it turns out that Leo got them into the fucking VYTAL festival, he’s been a part of this since season ONE! Fuckin’ cowardly ass lion.

6:49 DOUBLE SHIT-he gave Salem the info about the local huntresses and huntsmen and had them KILLED! FUCK THIS PUSSY UP...wait, pussy like pussy cat, not the other way.

But enough about that-THE DRAMA BOMB WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOR-

7:03

LOGICALLY ANGST RIDDEN JAUNE! I mean I’m PRETTY SURE its not gonna be him who kill Cinder but...wouldn’t that be wonderful?

He then gives one FUCK of a speech...which Cinder responds with...hoo boy-

7:38

Cinder:...who are you again?

UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH-that is just MEAN! MURDER HER!

...okay I still want her dead, but DAMN does that flame sword look COOL!

AND THEN WE GET OUR MATCHES-Jaune vs Cinder(PLEASE don’t die), Emerald vs Ruby(weird match-up, not much there thematically, but still cool) Mercury vs Yang(BREAK HIS ARMS) Qrow versus Raven(duh), Hazel versus Renora, and Weiss versus Vernal who TOTALLY doesn’t need to use her powers on her, right Raven? Fuckin’ bitch.

8:38

BATTLE CLASH! Quick, hit the right buttons!

9:32 Oooooooooooooooooooooh, Oz is maaaaaaaaaaaaaaad! ALSO...is Leo a lion faunus? NEAT!

OH SHIT-his weapon is a...compass? I dunno, I’m liveblogging!

ZOOP-nevermind, its an awesome matter making deally bop!

AND THE REVEAL-that he is Ozpin(not quite) and Oscar admittedly gets some blows on him, good for him! GRANTED Leo is a total broken wuss-BUT STILL!

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut  that turns out to be what he WANTS as he can then deliver him to Salem...HOOOOOOOOOO boy, best get to fightin’ Oscar ol’ boy!

CUT TO-

11:47

Weiss versus Vernal, who sports two LOVELY throwing blades, nice!

Weiss then zigs away, puts up an ice wall-

ATTEMPTS TO SUMMON THE KNIGHT-

12:00

OOH-but Vernal dispels it with a power Slash! SEE-Raven, she DID need to use her powers! Seriously, how’d you forget that this girl could make bad-ass knights out of thin air, of ANY size!

12:11 Vernal: Don’t think I’m going to let you take the EASY way out!

Weiss: Should you really talk, little miss magic pants?

Vernal: TASTE MY BLADE!

Holy shit so much battling-CUT TO-

12:23

Cinder bullying Jaune in the background, while Ruby fights Aladdin!

After Emerald professes her obvious love for Cinder-

She puts the WHAMMY Rwby with her mind powers-

She GOES IN FOR THE KILL-making Ruby shoot a bullet WHICH-

-freaking NARROWLY goes by Weiss! Just think, our ship-charts would’ve been altered YET AGAIN by that bullet. I remember when Phyrra died, oh the sadness.

OH-her blades also shoot! ALSO-look at Vernal’s smug ass face there, bitch.

OH SHIT-they were laser blades! Guess she didn’t use her powers-BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY-we got CRACKLE YO! SHIT IS GETTING CRAZY!

CUUUUUUUUUUUUU TO-

Jaune fighting not only Cinder-BUT ALSO-his demons!

13:14 Jaune: STOP MESSING WITH ME!

Me: NO NO NO dude, poor choice of words!

13:21

Oh shit shit SHIT-she doubled the attack power, ATTACK POWER IS DOUBLED!

The two then attempt a battle clash, Ruby sees it and goes all-

13:33 NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! ALSO-there are your stupid silver eyes you impatient FUCKS! Yeah you know who you are, and you AREN’T critics, your just whiney fans! Don’t be RWDE y’all.

OOH-but Emerald knocks her out mid Avatar state! Hope that doesn’t block her off from her powers for most of the season, only to learn later that she WASN’T blocked off from her powers the whole time.

13:40

It DOES however temporarily put her in pain! HAHA-fuck you Cinder! Jaune of course ain’t takin’ NO slack on this by the way-

DAMN-straight up GRAZED son! Logically she...she wasn’t happy about that.

See?

Jaune: I always wanted a woman to stomp on me, BUT NOT YOU!

HURRY JAUNE-friggin’ unlock your obvious semblance and PULL THAT SWORD TOWARD YOU!

Cinder then berates the kid, WHILE(and I’m NOT judging him for this, heat of battle) stupidly tells her that the OTHER fighters are more important than him. ALSO-

14:30

Hazel fights weaponless apparently! Neat!

What happens next...HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO BOY-

14:50

UGH-using Phyrra’s weapon?! That’s LOW! But seriously-SHE THROWS THAT SHIT-

15:02 RIGHT INTO WEISS...also forgive me for the next line-

Jaune; WHY DO ALL MY 17 YEAR OLD NOT-GIRLFRIENDS KEEP BREAKING ON ME?!

SO YEAH-I am...PRETTY sure its a flesh wound but...HOLY FUCKING SHIT that’s a cliffhanger! CHOP OFF HER HEAD JONNY BOY!

Fuckin’ hell, the action was admittedly not as good as last weak but this was still one HELL of an episode! See you next week folks ON MICKSTERECAPS!

#rwby #rwby volume 5 #rwby 5 #rwby spoilers #ruby rose #Yang Xiaolong #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #qrow branwen #nora valkyrie #lie ren #raven branwen #hazel rainart #salem speaks #cinder fall #mercury black #vernal #emerald sustrai #jaune arc #leonardo lionheart #oscar pine #professor ozpin #adam taurus #roosterteeth #rooster teeth #rooster teeth first #roosterteethfirst

[kestrelsarethebestrels]

Employer termination.

-PART 1-

It wasn’t easy at first.

Not the part that involves eating people, of course. Alex had no qualms about that. He wasn’t burdened by things like “morals” and “ethics,” and that silly thing called “introspection.” No, it was the process of taking them apart and storing the pieces which he found difficult. Oh, and of course - getting the bodies in the first place. After the aggression of the initial avian assault, the store had been nearly picked clean and there weren’t a whole lot of surviving humans.

There was one single advantage in his possession. Intelligence? Nope. Skills? Naw. It was the element of surprise. That was assisted by arrows. Lots of them (fletched by the other employees). Oh, and the pocketknives, of which he had pocketed a few for himself in the before-times. From time to time he reminisced about the particularly gruesome ones, which were intentionally coworkers he had deeply despised. Like Gary, for instance. Always bossing him around, that son of a bitch. Thought he was way better at being a bow technician, just because he knew how to properly tune a bow and cared, for some stupid reason, about customer service. You’re not my real boss! he often angrily thought, when Alex’s mistakes were pointed out to him.

Well, he took care of Gary first, that quiet old man. That one was rather messy, but the goal of the inaugural kill was to make a statement, not to keep it simple. It terrified the others, but at that point Alex had already stockpiled any usable weapons and had trapped the rest in the conference room. From then on, the order was his immediate boss, the owner, and then anyone else on a whim. 

Preparing them was also an ordeal, as Alex had never once cooked in his life, unless you count putting a frozen pizza in the oven as cooking. He had burned that the first four times in his life too, but he got the hang of it eventually. The grill at the 4U Cafe should have been simple to operate, but he had spent the better part of a day trying to light the flame. Imagine a man desperately flailing a mini Bic lighter around what he thought was the flame source, but was in fact just the edge of a grate. That was the scene about three hours into his struggle. Two hours after that, it finally occurred to him that he had never turned on the gas in the first place. He still considered that an overwhelming success. There was a bunch of leftover onion ring breading in the kitchen storage room, and being a good ol’ boy from the land of fried foods, he created his own version of deep frying the meat. Serve that up with a side of decade-old expired ketchup, of which there were gallons in the kitchen, and voila. It’s a hell of a wonder he never got scurvy, but thanks to Gary’s immense stash of Emergen-C packets, the minimum amount of sustenance was just barely achieved. For shits and giggles, he had even tried deep frying brains. It turned out pretty good, in his opinion. (Remember, this is the same guy who thinks frozen pizza is the height of culinary mastery.) He liked to pretend he was a zombie whenever he got to those pieces, which was always saved for last.

He savored (both literally and figuratively) in the fact that he had finally proven himself to be an alpha male by being the last survivor at H&H. He didn’t miss anyone, sentimentally speaking, after the apocalypse started. Friends were far and few in between before that, anyways. Alex incorrectly chalked that up to the idea that mere mortals were intimidated by him. Men envied his souped-up super duty F250 and camo everything, and women were… well, he didn’t know anything about women, so anyone who didn’t respond to his creepy Tinder messages (which was all of them) was definitely a bitch. Everyone else outside of that gender binary didn’t exist, or else they were “goin’ straight to hell,” as he liked to remark to anyone who’d listen.

As for the birds, he took the hero’s route and bravely stayed indoors almost the entire time, only venturing out to find fresh water and pilfer dry ice from the businesses up near MacArthur and 29th. Dry ice - why, you ask? Well, that walk-in freezer had to stay cold somehow. What with all the body parts and such.

Except now, in early 2042, the people-food had run its course (pun totally intended). Occasionally he was able to lure down a highly dull and unintelligent bird to the front entrance and shoot it with his bow (missing his mark about half the time, arrows sent clattering over the parking lot asphalt), but in his attempt to prove his dominance over all of god’s creatures, he opted to use broadheads. There wasn’t a whole lot left that was edible after that, but goddamn did he feel good after a good bird kill. Revenge, he thought. Revenge for the humans (though, again, “humans” defined a universe that included himself and himself only). Eventually he ran out of functioning broadheads, which slowed that food source to a trickle as well. It turns out that missing your target and hitting the concrete sidewalk or parking lot surface really messes with the integrity of the arrow. Who would’ve thought?

Anyways, he was running out of ideas, flesh, and also vitamin C packets. On one cold morning, he woke up as usual (fatigued and cranky as all get out). He shuffled slowly, bundled up in other people’s jackets, exited the warmer interior room and made his way towards the cafe for the very few morsels that were left of his last victim, a pathetically obese bluejay that had gorged itself on too many rancid leftovers from the nearby Denny’s. His bulky elbow caught a stack of decaying papers on the shop counter, which fluttered disorganizedly to the ground (is there any other way for paper to fall to the floor?). Something caught his eye. An invoice? Painstakingly, he bent down to pick it up.

JASON MILLER - INVICTA 37 SVX PINK SATIN FINISH #3 MOD SET

Hah. Jason Miller. He vaguely remembered that name as being attached to a fussy asshole who was constantly pestering him about the “status” of his order. Like he cared. Looks like Chris was the one who placed this order. Chris: former manager, also formerly alive. His current position was now part of a haphazardly balanced pile of bones behind the cash register.

The journey to the cafe would have to be interrupted for now. He gripped the invoice tightly with a sense of anticipation. Alex knew there was a giant stack of boxes that had arrived from Hoyt, Mathews, and Elite in the back room, and he was pretty sure those people were still waiting to pick them up (deceased status pending). If he knew anything about statistics, his confidence in that information would have been within a 95% confidence interval, because after failing all of his other responsibilities, it had been his sole job to contact those people to let them know that their orders had arrived. This task, like most other things, was consistently shirked as well.

He mustered his last few brain cells and remaining muscle mass and awkwardly sprinted to the back room, if you could call it a sprint. He ran a pen, as a pointer, from top to bottom of the stack of cardboard boxes… slowly… slowly… there it was. The Invicta. He silently congratulated himself, as usual, and quickly returned to the main shop.

It had been a long while since he had used the landline, seeing as how he had no friends to check up on. A tone immediately greeted him upon picking up the phone, much to his relief. He located the phone number on the invoice from earlier, rehearsed a few lines beforehand, and then made the call. Shockingly, the person on the other end responded.

Cool.

Now the plan had been set in motion. It was time to play the waiting game…

-PART 2-

He couldn’t stop marveling at his good fortune. He also couldn’t stop laughing, either, but that was a side effect of the starvation delirium. While that chump in the back room was getting excited over his new bow, Alex silently retrieved one of his own, which had been hidden earlier behind the counter. Pushing aside an assorted mix of Gary and Chris to grab an arrow, he loaded up his second-to-last broadhead and stayed low. No sense in alerting the other guy right now, who was probably still futzing around back there. He closed his eyes, gripped the bow, and attempted to wish the hunger pangs away. The anticipation was too strong. With his index-trigger release already attached to the string, Alex peered from behind the shelves and into the backroom to catch a glimpse of his next meal.

Shit. Where’d he go?

“You lookin’ for someone?”

Now standing, he frantically searched for the source of the sound and was blinded (again) by that stupidly bright flashlight beam. With the last of his strength, he drew back the bow. It came back down. Too weak that time. He drew back the bow... nope. Still needed more force to get all the way to full draw. All right, this time for real… he drew back the bow and once again failed to overcome the peak draw weight.

“Struggling a little there?”

Ah, that fucker was taunting him. Alex had no reply - speaking drained too much energy. He could mutter crazily, though, and he sure did. Exasperated, he angrily drew back the bow one more time and his own shoddy workmanship failed him. 

A great shattering noise was followed by a clattering of pieces. In his enthusiasm, Alex had torqued the bow while drawing it, de-aligning the strings (which he had never waxed) and popping the main cable right off of the cams. He blankly and pathetically stared at the only thing that remained in his hand, the compound’s riser. (The moral of this story: don’t shoot a PSE. Just kidding.)

The other voice spoke. “Wow. I almost feel sorry for you. Almost.” He heard the subtle click of another bow being pulled to full draw. “I’ve been wanting to say this for a long time, and I mean this in the most genuine way -

Alex, you’re the worst.”

In a final moment of brief clarity, right before Jason’s fixed-blade arrow passed through his skull, a thought occurred to him for the first and certainly last time in his life: Oh. I fucked up.

-PART 3-

It wasn’t that hard, in the end. A 20-yard shot, Jason guessed. He was pretty close, too - the other man was just shy of 22. 

The bit that tipped him off was the sudden quietness from the main room. Very suspicious. By then, Jason had already tied a d-loop onto the Invicta and threw on an arrow rest. No sense in dilly dallying while ol’ Hannibal was still out there. His camping pack had included a whole bunch of archery tools. Added some extra weight to his already hefty bags, but it was worth it. And he packed arrows. All of them, but especially the hunting arrows.

Jason didn’t take too kindly to people-eaters. He made sure to double-tap too, just in case. 

He kicked one foot for a response. Nothing. Dug his foot into the shoulder. Still nothing. Kneeled down to check the carotid artery… no pulse. And since this isn’t a zombie story, it’s safe to say the guy on the floor was now totally, comprehensively, holistically, well-n-good dead.

After loading up on more tools from the shop, he made his way back to the entrance and took one final glance towards the dark, haunted western corner of H&H. This time, he wasn’t leaving empty-handed. The gorgeous and garishly pink bow would turn some heads, to be sure, but most likely they’d be heads with beaks on them, and maybe now they’d leave him alone for a while longer. He sighed deeply, this time with satisfaction.

It had been a good goddamn day.

[camachameleon]

Cam’s Voltron Fic Rec 2/∞

VLD Fic Recs:  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms. ( ** =  favorites )

  **Beacon by glitteringconstellations (also on tumblr)

Word count:  43,288 (10/?)

Summary:  An emergency mission to answer a distress call wasn’t unusual. The urgency in Allura’s voice wasn’t necessarily unusual, either—she was very much of the mind that Voltron was obligated to answer every single distress call brought to their attention. Being the defender of the known universe came with a certain number of responsibilities, after all.

But seeing the pinched, pale look on both Allura and Coran’s faces when they converged on the bridge was unusual. "The universe is vast even in terms of those planets still yet beyond the grips of the Galra. But…. the distress call came from the Terra Firma Quadrant.”

Earth.

Comments:  Back to Earth AU. Reunion fic. This one occasionally flips pov to some characters on Earth so we get to see their reactions to the gang’s initial disappearance and then the realization that they are not alone in the universe. This fic is so different from the other Back To Earth ones I've read, all the little details make it feel so real. A song that I feel sets the mood for this fic is Home and It Goes On.

  don't go (i can’t follow) by My_King_And_Your_Lionheart

Word count:  10,670 (5/5)

Summary:  Keith’s shirt falls to the floor and Shiro gets so distracted by the ink on his skin that when he finally realizes Keith was trying to flip him, he’s already on his back. With the mismatched ‘Never tell me the odds’ pressed against his throat, Shiro thinks he could fall in love like this.

Comments:  Part 1 of the series blame it on the stardust which is partway through its second installment just pretending to know. This is a Sheith fic featuring tattooed!Keith. Also, my favorite part is the OG GARRISON TRIO AKA Matt/Shiro/Keith bonding bc they are my favorite friendship group ugh. Also Keith’s adoptive parents are super awesome like seriously I love them so much. This one ends with the start of season one basically, and Part 2 kinda picks up from there.

  i want your heaven and your oceans too by mothpoem

Word count:  11,622 (1/1)

Summary:  “Not—not that you’d be my rebound! I mean, you’d be helping me take my mind off of this guy, but to be a rebound, I’d have to have dated him first, I think, and he doesn’t even know I like him, so. You wouldn’t be a rebound. At worst, we become badass partners-in-crime with a grudging respect for each other, at best, we’re soulmates for life and this is fate trying to help us find happiness. So. Um.” Lance swallows and looks up at the Blade of Marmora soldier through his lashes. “What say you?”

They look down at their hands for a moment, fingers twisting together in deep thought. Then they’re pulling their gloves off, revealing pale, half-bruised knuckles of the human variation, and their mask is dissolving, giving way to big blue-purple eyes and an achingly familiar jet-black cowlick. “Who,” says Keith Kogane, in that low-pitched rumble that makes Lance’s stomach roil in the good way—holy fuck—“is this guy you’re trying to get over?”

Comments:  Lots of Lance whump. And obviously this is Klance endgame. I just love how far this goes before Lance finds out its not just some random bom guy. Lance is such a sassy guy when he’s in danger and it really comes out in this fic. Add in a heaping tablespoon of protective Keith and you’ve got yourself the perfect post-s4 voltron fanfic right here.

  Burn Break Crash by NaryCanary

Word count:  97,758 (17/?)

Summary:  When Katie "Pidge" Holt arranged a special road trip with her boyfriend that doesn't go according to plan, she somehow throws herself in an unexpected predicament and now must take responsibility for it. What is it she must do? Take Keith Kogane - an attractive, mysterious, arrogant guy from school - on the road with her across the country.

Growing up, Pidge was always taught to look both ways before crossing the street to avoid accidents. Nobody ever told her what to do if her life happens to go up in flames.

Comments:  Slowburn Kidge roadtrip AU. Background Shallura. This is a college AU that feels very raw to me idk. Like its not just all fluff and comedy, its also angst and comfort and thrilling in all the ways. The way their conversations flow and relationship develops is so natural and un-forced. This fic really made me like Pidge a lot more after reading. Even if you don’t ship it romantically, it really makes you appreciate the fiery, explosive bond between them. Platonic Kidge is also something I started exploring because of how much I loved the interaction with these two.

  **Entangled by Purpleneutrino (mackerelmademedoit)

Word count:  101,859 (12/12)

Summary:  When Keith found himself mentally linked to Lance of all people, he never thought that it would end in anything but irritation and misery on both sides. He certainly never imagined that it would be a useful asset in team Voltron's fight against the Galra Empire. Now if he can just keep his feelings in check, they might actually have a chance at defeating Zarkon.

Needless to say, when he'd wished for a 'bonding moment' with Lance, this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind.

Comments:  Klance with eventual mature content. Whump for both parties in this fic, and lots of angst. Also super-protective-over-Keith Shiro, which is my fav. A warning that this is very slow burn. I mean look at that word count. It’s amazing tho bc we get so much of this goodness. I love Stuck-Together and Forced Co-Dependency Tropes and this satisfies both. These two are forced to show so much vulnerability to each other and get so much closer as a result.

  **Keith’s ‘Physical Contact’ Initiation Program by alisayamin (sh_04e)

Word count:  26,522 (6/6)

Summary:  Keith didn’t move and neither did Pidge. It was a little awkward until Keith finally said, “Maybe we could officially officiate this..?”

“What do you mean?”

“Fist me.”

Pidge recoiled and sputtered, “Keith, what the f-” She was cut off by Shiro’s bellowing laughter from the observatory deck.

With his straight face unchanged, Keith lowered his left hand with the stopwatch and lifted his right hand, fisted.

Pidge actually sighed with so much relief, “OH. You mean fistbump! Right.” She slapped her forehead to remove the very very wrong image her imagination drew for her, “Holy shit, Keith, we need to work on that but yeah sure, I’d be honoured to officiate your physical contact program whatever.”

Or

That one time Coran realized Keith was too distant and decided to make him undergo the 'Physical Contact' Initiation Program which then led to --> 5 times the paladins realized Keith was an actual cat.

Comments:  I. LOVE. THIS. STORY. ugh. Keith bonding with everyone through hugs and cuddles, man. That is all that needs to be said. Oh and also Keith whump plus lots of comfort. Also Matt&Keith bros and Pidge&Keith bros is life. And super-protective-over-Keith Shiro. LITERALLY EVERYTHING YOU COULD EVER WANT ALL IN ONE GLORIOUS FIC. But seriously in this one, Keith unashamedly knows he wants physical affection, he just struggles with how to ask for it.

  **Antidote by salineshots

Word count:  92,440 (11/?)

Summary:  Based very loosely off of @eyugho’s lovebug AU, which I love more than anything?? Thanks to them for starting this wonderful AU!

Keith's bitten by a lovebug, but this one doesn't make him all cuddly. Instead, every moment he spends away from Lance is physically painful for him, and every moment he spends touching him is really, really nice. That's frustrating enough already without Keith having to hide his massive crush.

Lance just wants to help, but he knows that Keith doesn't like to be touched. Also hiding a massive crush, because these two are horrible at communication.

Comments:  Slowburn Klance with so much Keith whump and comforting and supportive Lance. I really like this version of the Lovebug AU, especially bc it basically doubles as one of those Stuck-Together Tropes, and also they become super co-dependent on each other which is also nice because we get to see all their vulnerabilities and insecurities forced into the spotlight.

  Muzzled by Emls479

Word count:  5,181 (1/1)

Summary:  The blade of Marmora aren't the only ones with time altering technology. Days on the outside can be months within. Keith finds this out a little too late.

Comments:  This is more than a little dark and also I cried so watch out if you don't like hardcore whump on our boy keef who really needs more hugs.

  Yes, Sir by mikkimouse

Word count:  8,302 (1/1)

Summary:  “Are you all ready to get started?”

“Yes, sir!” twenty voices answered in unison.

Shiro’s stomach flipped at the words. Oh, no.

The soul mark on his right wrist burned, confirmation that his soulmate was one of the twenty people who’d just uttered the phrase.

Oh, shit.

Comments:  All 3 Works in this series are so great. Not just bc its a Sheith Soulmate AU, but also bc its just the perfect mix of funny, angsty and fluffy.

  VLD Fic Recs:  [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms.

#Voltron Fic Rec List #Klance fic #Sheith fic #galra keith #kidge fic #whump #soulmate au #love bug au #langst #Cam's Voltron Fic Rec #VLD #fanfiction #slowburn #bonding #in your orbit #mine #vfr

[bluekyun]

A Million Roses (M) — Epilogue

A/N: A special ending for the readers who suffered through the first two parts.

Pairing: J U N G K O O K x R E A D E R x Y O O N G I

Genre: A N G S T & S M U T — assassin!au

Word Count: 2.450

Summary: One would think that no one can rival the power of the silent assassin, but as someone begins to claim your targets before you can pull the trigger, the entirety of the crew struggles with mistrust and suspicion, forgetting the oath in which they are bound by blood. For every body stolen, a rose lies in its place, and for every rose placed, you are one step closer to finding the traitor, the one who had so easily convinced you to love him in the first place.

Inspiration: Sword Art Online

Warnings: major character death, descriptive gore including blood and violence

Rating: NC-17

The smoke that filled his lungs was burning holes into his very soul, the act of staying still becoming nearly impossible with every second that passed. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to act, to feign death next to the heat that was singing his skin, but he figured if he remained quiet, he might be able to find a way out of this situation. In the distance, he could hear footsteps over broken branches, the sound of ruffling followed by its sudden disappearance, nothing left but distant howling as the wind fed the flames.

 Rolling onto his side, he held his hand against the open wound, the bullet still lodged into his abdomen. He was grateful that of all people, he was up against Jungkook, who although excelled at hand-to-hand combat, didn’t do very well under pressure when it came to using weapons. Even when they practiced for situations like this, snatching each other’s guns in the open basement of the hideout, the score between he and Jungkook was probably 100 to 1, that one time when Yoongi decided to go easy on the poor boy to protect his ego. His aim was shit, and that was the very reason that he made sure Jungkook was always kept to long ranges. In the end, it ended up saving his life, the first bullet being a shot to the ground and the second being so far to the side that it had almost missed his body completely. Almost.

 Crawling from underneath the clouds of ash, he collapsed near the line of trees, finding an opening of uncontaminated air that only irritated his scorching throat the moment he took a breath. But at least he was alive. The blood dripping down his sides was making him slightly uncomfortable, the mess it was creating only irritating him further. Lifting his head, he gazed into the cluster of bushes, noticing something shining in the glow of the flames. Using his arms to shimmy forward, he grabbed the object, pulling it out only to realize it was the M900. Jungkook’s gun. Was he a fucking idiot? Clearly. He was asking to get caught. Lucky for everyone, this place was out of the way, surrounded by acres of trees. It would take a while for anyone to even notice the flames let alone get here in time to put it all out. But with this gun now in his possession, he only had one goal in mind.

 “I’m going to fucking kill him.” The groan that left his lips dissipated into thin air, nothing but the sound of the crackling fire as it consumed whatever was left of the mansion. He needed to find you quickly, before it was too late, knowing full well what Jungkook had planned to do. He should have protected you sooner, should have taken you far away, but he was too much of a coward. Too afraid that you would never believe him, that you would choose Jungkook over him in the end, and he couldn���t blame you. He would see the way you looked at Jungkook like he was the best thing that ever happened to you, as if he were the only person you saw. He heard the words you whispered in his ear back in your room, the way your voice dripped with honey, so sweet and pure that he would have melted then and there. Had you said those words to him. And he couldn’t deny it broke his heart. But he should have protected you. And now he was going to pay the price.

 Sitting up, he tried to steady his breathing, bringing down his heartrate as to not bleed out more than necessary. After counting his bearings, he stood up slowly, one foot at a time, until he was sure he wasn’t going to topple over. Removing his jacket, he tied it around his waist, covering the bullet hole to stop the stream of blood. Taking his phone from his pocket, he opened an app, the one he used to keep track of everyone during missions just in case everything spiraled downward. It was probably one of the most useful things he had ever programmed. Looking at the red dot, he noted the coordinates, grateful that you weren’t too far away. If he wanted to save you, he needed to get there quickly, and despite the gut-wrenching pain he felt as the wound stretched with every step, he sprinted in your direction.

 “Fuck…” He cursed underneath his breath, the river of crimson now gradually streaming down his leg. He figured he likely lost about half a liter of blood at this point, meaning that if he wanted to survive this ordeal, he needed to get medical attention as quickly as possible. After he dealt with the traitor that was Jeon Jungkook.

 Holding his hand against his side, he tried to force his blood to clot, and even though he knew that wasn’t how his body worked, he figured it was more so a mental thing, a way to force him to run faster without thinking about the fact that he was slowly dying. Luckily for him, Jungkook had missed his major arteries and organs, only managing to hit the little fat he did have on his body. The bastard even missed him with the first bullet for fucks sake. If it wasn’t for the current situation, he would have taught the boy how to aim properly in close-range scenarios, but that was something that didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered except for you.

 Checking his phone again, he realized he was getting closer, and as he zipped past several thickets of trees, he could hear the mellow bubbling of nearby water.

 There was no way he was going to let him dump your body into a river, he wasn’t going to let him touch a hair on your body or so help him, he would lose all restraint, unleashing pure hell on the kid.

 Upon entering the clearing amongst the grove, he watched as Jungkook stomped on top of you, and the way you whimpered in pain only tore his heart to shreds. He was struck with fear, numb to the bone, unable to do anything but watch. He’s certain Jungkook said some things, likely awful things, but all he could hear was the beating of his own heart. It was like a flash before his eyes, how quickly Jungkook drew the gun, his gun, from the holster he shouldn’t have had to begin with.

 Taking a step forward, he tried to swallow grunt of pain as to not alert Jungkook of his presence, the soreness of his side suddenly slowing him down. He wanted nothing more than to just tackle him to the ground, sacrificing himself to make sure you lived. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t do it.

 And then he was too late.

 The crack echoed in his ear, the vicious sound of death and the ringing that only followed afterward. Your lifeless body sprawled out next to the running water, the shining of the moonlight doing little justice to how beautiful you truly were. Even covered in blood, the bullet having gone straight through your heart, you were still the most magnificent thing… so precious to him, something that was so disgustingly taken away. He could feel the pain bubbling inside of him, his throat constricting and his lungs shriveling into nothing. He couldn’t breathe. At this point he was full on hyperventilating, the oxygen no longer reaching his brain in large enough quantities. He was panicking and he wasn’t sure if it was due to the blood loss or watching the one he cherished most die. In reality, it was likely both.

 Hearing the commotion, Jungkook turned around, tears staining his cheeks with his bottom lip quivering like that of a small child. It was pitiful.

 “Y-you have n-o… right… to look like that.” Yoongi spat, his stomach churning in utter disgust.

 “Shut the fuck up Yoongi, I didn’t want to do it… I swear I didn’t.” Clutching onto his head, Jungkook fell to his knees, tossing the Black Star to the side. He was sobbing, his shoulders quaking as if he actually felt guilty about what he had done.

 “You’re… such a piece of shit…” He could barely control his speech anymore, his head swimming, vision out-of-focus.

 Jungkook continued to cry, his sobs turning into pure wailing. Never had Yoongi seen him get that emotional, and even after all their years together, he didn’t think he’d ever seen him cry. It didn’t make what he did any better, it only made him look more like the devil in Yoongi’s eyes.

 “If you feel so damn bad, then why the fuck did you do it… huh?!” The rage building up inside his small frame fueled his sudden surge of energy, allowing him to clutch the M900 close to his chest, the red dot directly on the back of Jungkook’s head. He wasn’t about to let him get away with anything, not after taking you away, the only source of happiness he had ever found.

 Jungkook didn’t answer, continuing to break down within himself, heaving as if his lungs were being pulled straight from his rib cage.

 “I knew all along… about your son-of-a-bitch father, about how he murdered her father, about how he set you up to infiltrate the guild… I knew everything. Even after that bastard minion of yours walked out of the building with the dead body over his shoulder, I fucking knew. Which, by the way, I had to dispose of thanks to you. But I was stupid and kept it all to myself, knowing full well she wouldn’t believe a damn word I said. You planned to kill her all along… so why did you wait if that was the plan?”

 Silence.

 “Answer me you little shit!” Shooting a bullet at the grass by his feet, his watched Jungkook flinch, immediately sitting up, his cheeks flushed red with snot dripping down his chin.

 “I loved her!”

 “No you didn’t! Don’t fucking lie to me… you didn’t love her, you never did. Don’t even talk about her…” His breathing was only getting faster, more and more of his blood seeping into the soles of his boots.

 “I did! I love her so much… I’m sorry Y/N… I’m sorry…” Jungkook fell to the ground, curling up into a ball as he cried, and cried, and cried.

 “I was going to use those roses… to tell her how much I loved her… I loved her a million times more than you ever could… and you ruined it. You ruined everything with your damn selfishness. But it was all in vain… you wanted all the glory to yourself… you wanted your stupid father to finally love you… but guess what. You failed. You failed miserably.”

 Yoongi couldn’t control himself any longer, his thoughts immediately turning to venom on his tongue. He wanted Jungkook to feel the pain that he was feeling. The rejection, the failure, the absolute heartbreak.

 “I tried… to tell her…” More choked sobs. “… that I didn’t want to do it. I left those roses… I took those bodies… so she would quit. But she was so fucking stubborn… I just wanted her… she gave me no choice. My father was going to ki-”

 “I don’t give a fuck what your father was going to do. You made your choice, and I’ve made mine. Goodbye, Jungkook.”

 Holding his breath, he tried to steady his trembling hands, eyes focused on the broken man in front of him. His heart hurt, never having thought someone like Jungkook, someone he took care of and treated like family, would turn on him. It only proved more why he couldn’t trust the world.

 Closing his eyes, he pulled the trigger, the boom reverberating off the surrounding trees, traveling far in the distance as birds of all kinds flew from the branches.

 Taking one peak, he felt his stomach turn, projectile vomiting on his own feet.

 Lying in front of him was a headless Jungkook, brain splattered in chunks surrounding the entire area, pieces already being carried away by the running water. That gun was never meant for close range.

 Feeling the life leave his body, he collapsed to the ground, no longer able to feel much of anything in his legs. He felt delirious, the world spinning in circles around him, and as his heart rate reached over 140 beats per minute, he realized how it was all going to end.

 Using all his strength, he forced himself onto his knees, crawling through the puddle of the blood and globs of flesh over to your body sprawled out in the grass. Lying at your side, he brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, goosebumps forming on his arm at the icy cold touch of your skin.

 “Hey… it’s m-me…” His voice cracked as several tears ran down the length of his nose, finding solace in the grass.

 “I’m here. I’m never going to leave you… we can go together, okay?” Brushing his fingers through your hair, he tried to hold back the sobs that ached to escape.

 “Remember that one night when we were sleeping in your room… the night that we watched The Little Mermaid because you said it was your favorite movie as a kid… you told me that night that you were afraid to die… well, you don’t have to be afraid anymore. Because I’m here. I’ll always be with you.”

 Leaning closer, he placed a gentle kiss at your temple, no longer able to hold back the flood gates. His eyes were burning, his breathing no longer regular as he gasped for air. It took every ounce of energy he had to intertwine his fingers into yours, holding onto you as tightly as he possibly could.

 Glancing up at the sky, he watched as a parade of tar-black clouds gathered above him, the rumbling of thunder in the distance signaling the oncoming of the storm. Like death itself, the darkness spread over the moon, consuming all light until nothing was left but a dim grey orb hanging onto its last breath.

 Looking over one last time, he tried to memorize your face, every peaceful feature from your glowing skin to the softness of your lips, burning it into his memory so that maybe in the next life he would be able to find you again. He wasn’t ready give up, but he just wanted to be by your side once again, so with one final beat of his heart, he let it all go, closing his eyes, welcoming darkness to take his soul away.

#btswriters #bts writing squad #boy group writers net #bangtanwriters-net #bt-yes-network #armiesnet #bangtanbuds #daegulinenetwork #bts #bts scenarios #bts series #bangtan #jungkook fic #yoongi fic #jungkook series #yoongi series #jungkook scenario #yoongi scenario #yoongi x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi angst #jungkook angst #so many tags #im sorry

[fanfics-await-you]

Oh Fuck (Part 1)

Prompt: “You’re absolutely in love with him and have been for at least 2 years if you don’t go tell him how you feel I swear to god I will” by @writing-prompt-s (17 from this post)

Pairing: Cassian Andor x Reader

Summary: You’ve been given a week to confess your feelings. Unfortunately, you seem to be an utter coward when it comes to love.

Tags: fluff, light-hearted angst (what else do I know???)

Notes: I’m a terrible human and I’m not even going to apologise for how long it takes for me to write, like honey ik… ik. Also, I should be commended for not using ‘YEET’ because there were at least 3 places where I could’ve. There’s gonna be a second part to see what happens 😝

Word Count: 1,476

Part 2

7 days ago

“You’re absolutely in love with him, and have been for at least 2 years! If you don’t go tell him how you feel, I swear to the Maker I will!”

“Jyn, so help me I will kick your ass if you don’t shut up!” There is a prickly defensiveness in your voice that is immediately picked up by everyone in the vicinity.

“Ha!” You cover your eyes with your hands, “Ha, ha, ha! I knew it!”

You open your mouth to defend yourself against Jyn when Bodhi chimes in, “She’s right. C’mon Y/N, it’s obvious and that’s coming from me.”

The statement seems innocent enough but the smirk adorning his face tells you otherwise. You bury your head in your arms as you feel heat climb up from your collar.

“I’m not kidding, Y/N. You have a week and then I’m telling him,” Jyn’s tone is faux-serious and you look up, expecting her expression to match.

Her face is sombre and you jump up from your seat, “What?! Jyn, no! I- No! That is a bad, bad, bad idea!”

She shrugs and you turn to Bodhi in an appeal for help.

His hands spring up from the radio he’s fixing in a mock surrender, “Don’t look at me. We both know she doesn’t listen to anyone.”

You collapse back into the chair and cradle your head in your hands, “Oh fuck.”

———

6 days ago

Your thoughts consume you as you walk. Damn you Jyn Erso is a common theme among them and you aren’t hesitant to admit that you are also considering how to enact your revenge. In the sea of people you notice Cassian. You decide that you should just do it quickly, like pulling off a bandaid.

“Cassian! Cassian!” His name rings out in the hallway.

Cassian stops suddenly and looks back to you, curious. Unfortunately, so does everyone else. At least 20 people of various ranks and species are all staring at you; you freeze and then bail.

Cheeks aflame, you half-hearted call out, “Oh, um, never mind.” You flee.

You dive through the nearest doorway and don’t stop walking until you find an empty corridor. You lean against a wall and slowly slide down until you rest on the ground. You can imagine Bodhi and Jyns’ teasing comments already and your blush deepens.

Oh fuck.

———

5 days ago

“Y/N!”

You pretend not to hear and turn down a walkway. You quickly hide in a doorway and watch as Cassian jogs into view. He searches for a moment, utters a quiet shit, and then returns on his way. It’s in this moment that you realise that you, Y/N Y/L/N, are a coward.

———

4 days ago

The canteen is bustling and you search for a familiar face. You spot Bodhi out of the crowd and head towards his table. To your horror, Jyn is seated next to Cassian and is also the first one to spot you; a grin that could haunt your dreams slides across her face. She makes a huge show of moving seats and gesturing you to her’s despite the fact that there are already free seats at the table. In your embarrassment, you miss the pointed glare and elbow to the ribs that Cassian receives from Bodhi. You sit (careful not to touch him) and untuck your hair so that it falls freely. The conversation around you continues but both Cassian and yourself are determinedly quiet.

You hear a muffled thud from beneath the table before Cassian jolts, swears, clears his throat, and then turns to you. You notice that something about him is off; he stares for a fraction of a moment too long, blinks, and then speaks.

“So Y/N… What did you want to ask the other day?”

Oh fuck.

“Oh, it was nothing. I was just… just wondering if you had the mission brief but I got my hands on it, so don’t worry,” you flash a quick smile before the silence between you falls again.

You hate what this secret had done to you. It is a burden that you feel like is ruining you, and especially your friendship with Cassian. You leave the canteen as soon as you can, shame burning at the back of your throat.

———

3 days ago

You spot Cassian in conversation with an engineer on the airfield and duck behind an X-wing before you can be noticed. You battle the Empire on a regular basis, flew at Scarif, have stared death down on multiple occasions and yet here you were, terrified. The ridiculousness of the situation is apparent to you but you still remain rooted to your hiding place until you see him leave.

———

2 days ago

“Y/N!”

There’s nowhere to run.

You ignore the voice and shoulder-charge through the crowd. You’re going against the flow so your progress is slow and have only just reached your door when a hand touches your arm.

“Y/N, could I talk to you for a minute?”

Your mind flashes white and you blank.

“No! Um, sorry no, I have to fix my… blaster…you know? I need it for the mission and, um, you know how fiddly they are? I gotta- I- I can’t, sorry,” you stutter and awkwardly finish.

Before anyone has time to react, you rush through the door and shut it behind you. You look at the doorcam and watch as Cassian raises his fist to knock, sigh, and then leave. Your stomach is caught by a vice of guilt but the damage is done so you step away from the hatch.

———

1 day ago

This time you’re caught, proper and true.

Cassian had literally darted out of a doorway like a sand viper and grabbed your wrist. Mind you, he had nearly received a fist to the face for his troubles but the act had its desired effect. With his grip, there is nowhere for you to go. On a separate (troubling) note, you realise that you really don’t want him to let go.

“Y/N, I just need a minute.”

You bite back a comment about the fact that you didn’t really have a choice in the matter, and you nod. Cassian walks to an adjacent empty corridor with you still in tow; he seems afraid that you will sprint if he lets go (he’s not wrong). Even when he stops Cassian still takes time to find the words. His face is troubled, and for a second all you want to do is smooth out the worry lines on his forehead with your fingers. Thankfully, you regain your self-control before he speaks.

“I’ve been meaning to say this for awhile. I figure you already know what I’m going to say from the way you’ve been acting-“ you begin to protest-“You don’t need to explain yourself, Y/N. But please, I- I just need to say this, ok?”

Your mouth is dry. What in the Maker is he going to say?

“Y/N, I… I-“ he rubs his eyes and makes a decision-“I need you to be careful on this mission, alright? It’s going to be a dangerous one.”

He drops your wrist and leaves without another word. The loss of his touch burns a little, as does his sudden departure. You watch Cassian’s figure vanish around the corner, and you are left to wonder what potential moment you have lost.

———

Present

“Look, Cassian, I know this is a bad time.”

“Are you kidding me, Y/N?!? This facility is going to collapse at any moment!”

Mentally, you concede that Cassian is right. The crack of your boots against the metal walkway is all but lost in the cacophony of explosions you have left in your wake. Flames that surge like furious waves on the platform beneath you grow with every crash, and the exit ahead is threatening to be consumed any moment.

You scan the imminent, warping wall as you search for another way out (you’re not feeling hopeful), “I’m trying to tell you something, Cassian!”

He gives you a long suffering look, “Can it wait?!”

Despite everything, you huff and manage to whisper a Not really before turning back to the task. The external doors are mere metres, then just feet and you can taste victory when metallic screeching tears through the air. You both look up to see a support beam falling straight for you. For a split second you consider diving for the door, but then Cassian pulls you back and the moment passes. In a shriek of mutilating steel, the column sends itself and the last part of the pathway spiralling into the fire below. A gaping divide now stands between you and the only way out.

“Oh fuck.”

You repeat Cassian’s sentiment, “Oh fuck, indeed.”

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction #rogue one fanfiction #rogue one #reader #my works

[smilinstar]

Fic: the long road home - 1/3 (Legends of Tomorrow; Rip/Sara)

Fandom: Legends of Tomorrow

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Rip Hunter/Sara Lance (Time Canary)

Summary: It’s a long road home, and Rip doesn’t need a map. Just needs someone to point to his heart, and he’s there.

Author’s Note: So I may have jokingly said that I was going to write a ‘101 ways Rip returns to the Waverider and finally realises he belongs there’ fic, but I kind of ran away with that idea and turned it instead into this three-parter. I hope you enjoy it :-)

Chapter titles from ‘Come back home’ by Lauv

Can also be read here on AO3

----- 

Part One:  

but sometimes you have to go

 -----

“Is that . . ?” Disbelief.

“Nah, can’t be.” Dismissal.

“Don’t be ridiculous, it’s not him,” Martin says, ever the voice of reason.

She’s Jax, Nate and Stein all at the same. Because it can’t be him, Sara tells herself. They haven’t heard from him in months, and she’s long since stopped turning to her right expecting him to be sitting there still. It must be two months since the last time she’s looked across the console expecting the slight nod of approval, or the encouragement glittering in his eyes. That constant presence beside her, lending strength without saying a word, is something she’s had to learn to do without.

The cold reality of his choice tells her it’s not him. But, even then, for the briefest of moments, hope flares with a glimpse of an old, beaten, brown trench coat in the crowd.

There are the subtle differences that give it away.

He’s just a little too short, has more meat on his bones – doesn’t look like he’s spent his entire life starving. The hair too – it’s darker than she remembers.

That doesn’t deter her from stopping in her tracks though, and silently willing him to turn around.

And then he does. And, of course, it’s not him.

This is the last time, she promises, the last time she’ll do this to herself.

Because there’s no point searching for someone who doesn’t want to be found. Doesn’t care enough to come back when the world’s falling to pieces around them.

“Sara,” Ray’s voice crackles to life in her ear, “we have the Time Chasm secured.”

She takes a breath, and shakes the thought from her head before refocussing on the here and now. “Good job guys. Meet us back at the Waverider.”

She turns to face the remaining members of her team and with a jerk of her head, orders, “Let’s move out.”

If she stops at the top of the cargo bay ramp and stares back at the horizon, and hopes yet again? Well, she thinks, promises were made to be broken, after all.

 ][

 Stay out of trouble.

Ha, he thinks, there had always been little chance of that happening.

Should have realised breaking the cardinal rule of time travel would come with its consequences. As if a few Time Storms here and there would be the limit of the repercussions they would face. When has he ever been so lucky?

Never is the answer.

He doesn’t let himself think about it too much as he walks away from the only home he knows and steps onto the jump ship. Doesn’t think about all the goodbyes he should have said because his courage always comes in waves and there’s a reason he made his decision to leave at low tide. He barely survived Sara’s – there was so much more he wanted to tell her, should have said, but the words were swallowed away with the lump in his throat and his efforts to surrender to the voice that screamed in his ear to ‘Stay. Just Stay,’ were weak and easily overpowered by another.

Another voice: more persistent, louder and clamouring to be heard. It’s his own voice, he recognises, flooding his lungs, and drowning everything out. They don’t need you anymore, it says.

He doesn’t know who he is any more. No longer a captain, a husband, a father. Never really a son. A friend? Could have been. A Legend? No, not one of those.

He thinks he needs to find out. Find out if he really does have a purpose, a reason to take up space on this little planet of theirs, if he isn’t any one of those.

And so he does it. Disengages the jump ship from the Waverider and fights the urge to look back.

He doesn’t plot a destination. Just flies.

It’s peaceful in a way aimless wandering has never felt before.

For just a moment he forgets about what he’s left behind, all that Time has stripped away from him.

It’s him flying once again into the sun.

Bright and welcoming, and the flicker of warm oranges and gold shimmer in the distance, and it’s only as he nears it that the peace shatters and he realises that he’s lost control of his ship. The currents that pull him in are too strong, and he can’t break free. And no, that’s not a sun, and no, he hadn’t been aiming for it in the first place, because he’s healed just enough to want to live but peace has a unique ability to lull one into a daze of false security.

Oh dear, he thinks, as the jump ship gets sucked into a magnetic field too strong for him to overcome and all he can think of then is Sara and her parting words:

Stay out of trouble.

Yes, well. That lasted a grand total of ten minutes.

Fantastic.

 ][

 Dinosaurs in Central City.

It’s the first of the problems they face.

Because, yes, Sara’s statement had been no exaggeration.

They had literally broken time.

Giant gaping cracks in the fabric of time. Shimmering, beautiful, deadly chasms that allow the passage of fractured time streams and all manners of chaos.

The Jurassic period meets the twenty-first century in a clash of confused and disorientated beasts and manmade prisons of steel beams and nothing but metal, tarmac and concrete, and screaming humans the size of ants under their feet. It’s an impressive display of destruction, as their fifty feet tails sweep into skyscrapers and they stampede through the city centre.

As far as disasters go, it’s pretty epic.

But like everything before it, they somehow get through to the other side with the help of sheer, dumb luck.

And okay, maybe a little bit of their smarts too.

Somehow both Ray and Professor Stein stumble upon the solution to closing the Time Chasm amongst endless theorising and hours using Gideon and her infinite database to run simulations. She doesn't quite understand how the gizmo they've constructed works but it does the job - shrinking the crack in time to nothing but a glimmer in the skyline before snuffing out like two fingers pressed to a flame.

Fortuitously, it severs whatever link between the time streams and the dinosaurs fade out of existence, well in the twenty-first century at least, or so she hopes it’s just in the twenty-first century. Gideon later confirms this to be true, and she won’t deny the huge breath of relief that leaves her lips when she does.

But the destruction? The grand scale of loss that's left behind? That’s another matter altogether. Sara doesn't know how to fix it. Not one of them do.

And she can't help but think that he would.

But he's not here.

Just vanished and left them here to deal with the mess of countless Time Chasms and the ramifications of Earth’s past, present and future being turned into one gigantic aberration.

Months of missing him turns to a burn of a different kind.

Anger.

She's so angry. And sometimes she’s blind with the rage of it. It takes hours of pummelling into the leather of a punching bag for the blood lust to simmer down until it's nothing but a dull hum under her skin.

That's how Mick finds her one morning: tape coming undone, bleeding knuckles smearing red, with no end to her vigour in sight.

He steadies the bag, let's her throw two more punches before finally speaking up, “I think you've had enough Blondie.”

She throws her next punch with a little more force and gains some satisfaction from the step Mick has to take backwards.

“What’s got you so fired up then?”

She bites her tongue and throws another punch.

“I can guess.”

She scoffs. As if he can-

“Skinny, annoying Englishman, am I right?”

She stops mid-swing, and blinks.

She expects a shit-eating grin on his face, because he got it in one and she still doesn’t know how he’s even put it together. She’s never uttered a word to anyone.

But Mick isn’t even looking at her, his attention on some spot on the far wall, face unreadable, “I never liked the guy, but I wouldn’t have wished him dead.”

Her heart shudders to a stop in her chest. A painful squeeze before it feels like it’s given up on her.

Dead.

“Dead,” she says carefully, evenly, “Who said anything about him being dead?”

“Why else hasn’t he shown up to yell at us for screwing up?” he shrugs as if it really is as logical as that.

Sara stares back at him, momentarily stunned, barely hears his words as he asks, “You good?”

She nods, “Yeah.”

He lets go of the bag and walks out the room. She misses his remark about getting her knuckles looked at before he does – her mind too busy spinning with thoughts, teetering dangerously, ready to fly off in every direction.

She slumps to the floor, her head leaning back against the wall of the Waverider.

Dead.

She’d replaced fear with anger because it had been so much easier.

Because Mick, she realises, is right. There’s only one way Captain Rip Hunter would abandon his mission to protect time, and that was if he was dead, or . . .

Her heart lets out a slow thump, one after another, until it hits a steady rhythm bursting with purpose.

“Gideon?” she calls out.

“Yes, Captain Lance?”

“Do you have a location on the jump ship and Captain Hunter?”

“I’m sorry, Captain,” she says, and the AI almost sounds apologetic, “I have no new information to offer since you last asked of Captain Hunter’s whereabouts.”

She nods, asks a different question this time. One she hadn’t thought to ask before now;

“What if the reason he hasn’t come back is because he can’t? What if he’s been pulled into a different time stream?”

Gideon doesn’t answer straightaway, and Sara holds her breath.

“Gideon?”

“Theoretically, it’s possible. The strong electromagnetic currents and distortion of time at the centre of a Chasm would account for me being unable to get a read on the jump ship’s signal.”

“But you have his last known location?”

“Yes.”

“Plot a course.”

“Captain?”

“I’m bringing him home.”

 ][

 It’s been three months and he’s still alive.

No one is more surprised than himself. Although that could also be because there’s no one else around for miles to place a wager on how long he’ll last. And he’s searched. Though he’s never ventured too far from his damaged jump ship – too afraid to get lost in the wilderness and too afraid of the wildlife and beasts that linger in the darkness – he knows for sure he’s alone. He only goes far enough to hunt for his food and play Russian Roulette with the flora. So far, he’s been lucky. A few episodes of violent vomiting, one unfortunate episode of hallucinations as if he’d been on some acid trip, but he’s pitched camp not too far from a fresh water source, so he can’t complain. Much.

He has no idea where he’s crash landed. If he has to hazard a guess, it’s at least a few hundred years B.C. But he can’t be too sure.

All he knows is that his hope is fading with every passing day. The distress signal from his damaged ship is waning as the power source depletes. More than that, the glittering orb in the sky, which he is positive is a tear in time itself, is shrinking smaller, healing itself and sealing back up. If by any slim chance the Waverider had been searching for him, without it, he has no hope of them finding him.

The nights are cold. Brutally so.

He wraps himself up as best as he can, and takes shelter in his ship as the wind speed picks up around him.

He lets his eyes droop shut.

For the first few weeks he had hardly slept. Every noise, a snap of a branch or a twig, the cry of a wild animal, had him on full alert and too afraid to close his eyes.

Somewhere along the way, as hope faded, he found he didn’t care so much.

If he was going to die, better to die in his sleep.

He used to dream.

Images of Jonas running around in his far too large leather jacket playing at being him. Miranda standing there, smiling so wide, pure happiness beaming from her eyes as she called out his name.

“Rip.”

Except somewhere along the way, the images changed and the voices changed and he thinks it’s Sara he hears now.

“Rip? RIP!”

He jerks awake.

There’s nothing but his heart beating in his ears.

And then the crackle of static, and he wonders if he’s dreaming still.

“Rip? Are you there? Can you hear me? Rip?”

“Sara?” he whispers, voice cracking on her name, throat dry from days of disuse.

“Rip?” And there’s a hint of disbelief and he knows exactly how she feels.

“Sara? Yes, yes it’s me. How did you-”

“Your signal. We only managed to pick it up once we reached the Time Chasm. You need to hold on. Ray’s figured out a way to get you back to our time stream, you just need to trust us.”

“Okay,” he breathes out, “I trust you.”

There’s a small moment before she answers, her voice taking on a soft edge he’s heard so rarely. “Hold on Rip,” she says, “Just hold on.”

And for her, he does.

For her, he thinks he always will.

 ][

 Martin finds her in Rip’s office.

It’ll always be Rip’s office, she can’t find it in her to think of the space as anything else. She hasn’t touched any of it. All his little trinkets and artefacts, his collection of vinyl and the secret stash of whiskey he keeps out of view, have remained where they are. Yes, even the latter. It felt wrong to drink it without him.

Somehow she’d always believed he’d be back, though a snide voice in her head reminds her, this wasn’t by choice. It’s not the same free will that had him turn on his heels and leave in the first place. And that gnaws away at the pit of her stomach and the unease refuses to settle.

She doesn’t look up from the desk and the sheaved dagger in her hand as she carelessly spins it between her fingers, and asks, “How’s he doing?”

“He’s alive. Just about. Severely malnourished, weak, but Gideon is keeping a close eye on his vitals and electrolytes to prevent refeeding syndrome. But I am positive Mr Hunter will make a full recovery.”

She nods, and looks back at him, “Thank you.”

“Yes, well I’m just glad we found him when we did. I’m not sure how much longer he would have lasted out there. I shudder to think what he’s been through.”

Sara tortures herself with that thought too, but she decides to give herself a reprieve for the night.

“You should get some rest Captain. There’s nothing more you can do for him now.” The concern is written all over his face, and she’s touched. She truly is.

She offers him a reassuring smile, “I will. I promise.”

That seems to satisfy him as he takes his leave with a nod of his head, and a “Goodnight.”

She sits there a while longer after he’s gone. And though she knows she’s made a promise, she’s been getting into a habit of breaking those without thought, and so she sees no harm in taking a minor detour along the way.

Her feet carry her to the med bay.

The lights are dimmed; the room dark except for the luminescent readings of his vital signs on the monitor and the flash of the rhythmic pulse of his heart tracing. He sleeps on in the reclined chair on the far side. There’s the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and though it soothes her, her eyes can’t help but flicker up to his face as she settles into the chair opposite.

His cheeks have hollowed out, the beard on his face overgrown and unkempt and it makes him look even more gaunt. There are lines of tension around his eyes, setting his jaw, and she thinks whatever is running through his mind, haunts him. She wants to reach out and smooth away the crinkles as if that will chase the monsters away, and it’s an urge she can’t explain.

Guilt.

The word rises up like bile in her throat. It’s guilt.

She should have known something was wrong the very second he didn’t return with the first Time Chasm. She should have known better to think Rip Hunter would abandon them with time literally breaking apart. She’d thought him selfish and single-minded in pursuit of his own interests once.

Once, when she hadn’t really known him at all.

But she does know him.

Of course she does.

How can she not when they share so many of the same demons?

She’ll later blame guilt for keeping her there. Worry plays its role just as well, maybe even relief has its part. And so she sits there listening to the steady beep of the machine as the gentle hum of the Waverider lulls her to sleep.

The comfort of knowing he’ll still be there in the morning is enough to pave the way to slumbering oblivion.

Funny then, how he’s gone when she wakes.

In a way that isn’t funny at all.

 ][

 Rip spends most of his time avoiding the mirrors.

His is a reflection he has no desire to see.

But then three days of taunts and jibes about the bush on his face likely growing to lengths that could support whole ecosystems has him raising his chin to a blade and his eyes finally land on what has kept his former team so amused.

He looks terrible.

He’s never really been a healthy-looking fellow, but this is bad. Ancient Egypt and Vandal Savage levels of bad.

He takes the razor to his beard and doesn’t look at himself again.

If he thinks that’ll end the teasing, he gets it so very wrong.

Mick dissolves into a fit of gruff chuckles, which is downright alarming. Ray, literally coos at him, which only spurs on Jax’s hoots of laughter.

“What?” he demands, “What exactly do you all find so amusing?”

Sara does a double take when she enters the kitchen just after him. There’s a flicker of a smile on her face which is more than he’s got out of her in three days. Three days since he woke up in the med bay to find her asleep in the chair next to him, curled up on her side, and he couldn’t help himself from reaching out and pressing a hand to her cheek to convince himself that she was real. Three days since he stumbled out onto the bridge and the exertion from that small walk had him collapse in an embarrassing heap of exhaustion. Three days since she found him there half unconscious on the steps to his old office, and she had to summon Mr Rory to haul him back to the med bay. Three days since she’d looked at him with those fearful, then furious, blue eyes. Three days, and she had yet to utter a word to him still.

“Forgotten how to shave, have we English?”

Ah yes. He tentatively reaches up, rubs a hand across his chin, “I may have nicked myself a few times.”

“A few?” Jax grins.

“It happens to the best of us Mr Jackson.”

“If you’re twelve,” Mick snorts.

Rip rolls his eyes as he turns away to put the kettle on, “Yes, well it has been some time since I’ve had-”

The rest of his words die on his tongue as he spins back around to see the back of Sara’s head as she leaves.

He mumbles a quick, “Excuse me gentlemen,” and follows after, ignoring the looks that get thrown his way.

She’s fast. She’s already disappeared around the corner of the corridor, and he breaks into a light jog to catch up to her.

“Captain Lance?” he calls out, “Captain?”

She just keeps on walking.

“Sara!”

There’s a stutter in her step, and she visibly slows.

“I feel I owe you an apology, although I confess to not knowing what exactly I’d be apologising for? So maybe you could take pity and just tell me?”

She turns ever so slightly to the side, faces the wall, not him. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

“And yet, I can’t help but think you’re seconds away from drawing a knife on me.” He means it to come out light-hearted; bring her around to familiar ground, except of course he’s never done very well with making jokes, and the sharp look she gives him then tells him he’s botched it up. Again.

Brilliant.

“If this is about me not returning to help with the whole matter of ‘breaking time’, then I’m sure you know that’s-”

“Ridiculous?” she suggests with a raised brow as she faces him fully, arms folding across her chest.

He finds himself standing just a little straighter. “Actually, I was going to say ‘not my fault’.”

“Debateable.”

Now that has him jerking his head back, “And how exactly is me getting pulled through a tear in time my fault? I had no control over that. No control over where I ended up!”

“Yes,” she snaps, taking a step forward, “But you did have control over whether you left in the first place!”

Her eyes widen as she realises what she’s said and Rip finds himself taking a step backwards, “You said it was fine.”

“I never said it was fine,” she replies in a low voice, and he can see the visible effort it takes to calm herself down.

He takes a breath, concedes the point, “Is that why you’re angry at me?”

She looks away again, “I’m not angry at you, Rip.”

And there’s a little seedling that takes root then, leaves that grow up and out, taking on a shapeless form he can’t yet name. “But you’re angry at yourself?” he asks quietly.

She doesn’t answer him, just watches him carefully. He senses when she shutters it away, the corners of her lips twitching up into a smile as she changes the subject, “You looked better with the beard.”

A surprised huff of laughter leaves his lips, as his hand comes up yet again to rub at his bare chin, “I thought I’d try something different.”

“Yeah,” she tilts her head as if assessing him, “not really working for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

She takes a step backwards, “I uh need to . . .”

“Yes, you uh go do . . . that.”

He lets her escape, but not very far because he can’t help himself from calling back out, “Sara?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am okay.”

She nods, “I know.”

And because it needs to be said. “Thank you.”

She smiles, and it truly is rather beautiful.

 ][

 She relives that moment. Over and over.

Waking to find him gone. The moment her heart lurches painfully in her chest because he’s gone. Again. The way her voice had barely been a cracked whisper as she asked Gideon, without even having to utter the words because she had just known what (or more like who) it was she was searching for. She relives running onto the bridge to find him slumped there, unconscious, and for the longest of seconds thinking the worst. It’s the worst sort of nightmare - after all that, to not feel the thrum of his pulse beneath her fingertips. To have him just gone.

It’s always the same, and she always wakes in a sweat, heart pounding against her ribcage.

She kicks away her bedsheets and swings her legs around to settle at the edge of her bed.

He’d been right.

She was angry.

Angry at herself.

Angry because she shouldn’t care so much.

But she does. And she hates it.

Because caring too much means having something to lose.

And she can’t lose anyone else.

It’s not just about him.

It’s not.

 ][

 “A Time Chasm?”

“Yeah,” Jax shrugs, “Big hole in time. Time streams falling through it. A Time Chasm.”

“I came up with it,” Ray adds, waving his arm up in the air, a big self-satisfied grin on his face.

“Actually, you’ll find, I’m the one that even gave you the idea for the name in the first place,” Nate chimes in from behind him.

Rip looks across the room, finds a partner in Amaya, who stands there at the table with an equally exasperated expression.

“Time Chasm,” he repeats dumbly. “That’s a terrible name.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad!” Ray has the gall to look crestfallen.

And it feels rather bizarre on his face, but he can’t help but smile. Because he’s missed this. He’s missed this little band of misfits. He’s missed his dear Legends.

So he takes a step back, and just takes it all in around him. The steadily growing hum of noise as they all fight to talk over each other, the glares being sent across the room as if Firestorm themselves were throwing fireballs, the incessant bickering and disagreements, and childish name-calling (courtesy of Mr Rory, of course).

He feels someone bump his shoulder and he doesn’t have to look down to know it’s her standing beside him.

“So you think Time ripping itself to shreds is funny, do you?”

“No,” he shakes his head once, “You’re quite right. I’m sorry. It’s all very serious business.”

“Tell that to your face.”

He tilts his head down to look at her and finds her smiling up at him, her face a lot closer to his than he’d been expecting. And yet somehow the urge to move away never hits him, and he stays exactly where he is.

“I never knew you could do that,” she says softly.

“Do what?”

“Smile.”

And just like that, the corners of his mouth drop back down to neutral, and he hates himself a little because hers follows suit.

And so he doesn’t think too much about it as he admits, “Well, maybe I just missed you.”

All.

Maybe I just missed you all, is what he’s meant to say, but that’s not what he tells her.

But of course she knows.

Of course he couldn’t have meant anything else.

“We missed you too,” she says, and he tells himself he isn’t disappointed.

He isn’t.

 ][

 It’s been a week, and she supposes it’s longer than she thought he would have lasted.

But she guesses she should have expected it. Especially when he told them all that what had been broken couldn’t be fixed. Yes, they could heal the Time Chasms (he reluctantly used the term but not without shuddering each time), but the damage that was done? That was irreparable. It couldn’t be undone. It was a rule to never be broken for a reason, after all.

Sense had told her from the minute they had got him back onboard the Waverider that he would up and leave again. Because whatever the reason he’d first stepped off and climbed aboard the jump ship hadn’t changed. If anything, the fact that their current situation is so helpless only adds to his argument, and she knows he’s got it there in his arsenal.

Doesn’t mean it hurts any less to find him there in his room; duffel bag open on his bed, nearly packed to the brim as he stands there with an apologetic expression she’s getting rather tired of.

“Leaving again so soon?” she says, tone even.

He reaches over the bed and grabs hold of his duffel, pulling the zipper close. “Nothing’s changed, Sara.”

“Hasn’t it? I mean, I would say cracks in the fabric of time is a pretty big change, wouldn’t you?”

“And I have nothing to add to fixing the problem that you all haven’t already thought of.”

She feels the familiarity of her old friend anger burning behind her eyes.

“The truth, Rip. I want the truth. This has got nothing to do with whatever place you think you have on this team. Whatever it is you think you can or can’t teach us. You know you belong here. I saw it on your face that day.”

He sits his hands on his waist, leans forward and back onto the balls of his feet as he looks up at the ceiling of his room, blows out a breath before looking back at her.

“You’re right.”

And she hates the little bubble of hope that rises up, because she knows it’ll burst. All bubbles inevitably do.

It’s not surprising then when he turns away, slowly hefting the bag up onto his shoulder as he steps towards her.

“So stay,” she whispers, and it’s the first and last time she’ll ever ask him.

“I need time.”

“Time,” she repeats on an alarmingly wet laugh.

Time. How’s that for irony?

Time for what? she wants to ask, but doesn’t. Instead she takes a breath and reaches out her hand for a shake.

“I guess,” she says, “this is turning into our thing?”

He steps into the handshake, hand clasping hers, as his other reaches up to press against her cheek, thumb rubbing away a stray, rebel tear and the breath catches in her throat.

“Maybe it is,” he says with a pained look, before dropping his hand and walking towards the door.

He stops there and she turns to meet his gaze, “Do try and stay out of trouble Captain Lance, won’t you?”

She tilts her head to the side, and bites down on a sad smile, “I make no promises.”

“Ah yes, knowing our lot, I suppose that’s wise.”

He turns to leave and she calls out one last time, “Rip?”

He spins back.

“We’ll see you soon?”

He doesn’t say anything, but she thinks the gentle nod of his head and the barest hint of a smile is all the answer she needs.

For now.

TBC.

#time canary #rip x sara #ripsara #fanfiction #legends of tomorrow #lot