#[ I think I might have to go through and drop threads tomorrow

[screamingatanemptyroom]

The Healer pt 2

Decided to continue this, let me know if you want me to keep going!

Part 1 linked here

Enjoy!

________________________

“What have you done?”

My voice was strained in a horrified whisper.

Jack the Hero was calm despite my obvious distress. He leaned back in his chair, his face smiling but his eyes freezing cold. “That’s the wrong question, Healer. The right question is: what have YOU done?”

“Everyone… they’re dead… you promised you needed it to clear the gate… you told me…”

“I told you a lie.” His smile didn’t change. “You were the fool who believed me. Their deaths are on your hands as much as mine.”

I stood up, checking my inventory and beginning to drop any group items. “I’m quitting your team. I’d rather die alone out there then stay on under you. After what you've done."

“I’d rethink that, Healer.” He held up a hand, and a bright red gleam shined between his fingers.

“You bastard.” I froze at the sight, unable to move, as realization slowly dawned on me of the extent of his betrayal. “You…”

He stood up, not bothering to listen to the rest of my cursing. “Save your energy.” He paused at the doorway, his gaze settling on my tear-stained face without much interest. “You’ll need it. We ride early tomorrow, Healer. Be ready.”

______________________

“JACK!” I sat up in bed, breathing heavily. I was filled with terror and rage, and it took a moment to realize my familiar surroundings. Light blue walls, intricate draperies, stacks of large books on topics ranging from anatomy to pharmacology. My room. I sighed with relief.

Thinking of my dream, and the bad memory contained within, I stiffened again, slowly slipping my hand into my collar and gripping the cold hard surface of the amulet within. I sat silently, clutching it so tightly that the hard edges began to dig into the skin of my palm. Eventually my speeding heart rate slowed, and my breathing normalized. I was in my house, out of Jack’s reach.

As I calmed down, a notice popped up in my vision.

**You have rested through the night. HP and MP are restored in full. Adverse conditions such as fatigue are eliminated.  You are encouraged to continue your mission in securing the advancement of the human race! Good luck!**

I waved away the notice with a frown. Since the Downfall, since we had woken up in this strange world crafted after a VR game, there had been only vague references to the “purpose” behind it. The original message had mentioned an “opportunity for improvement” but given little other information. Who was it that trapped us all here? Why did they do it? And are they still watching us?

I shook my head. All we knew was that there were one hundred gates to pass to “complete” this mission. Perhaps then we would understand the purpose behind all of this, the meaning of all this pain, death and suffering.

But we were only on the forty-second gate.

I went downstairs, and paused when I spotted Alton the Great Evil Wizard, looking nothing like his terrifying reputation as he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, calmly sewing a black robe. Hearing my footsteps, he looked up and grinned, waving with the hand holding the threaded needle.

“Good morning, Miss Healer!”

The address caught me by surprise. Jack and the party had always just called me “healer” or “the healer.” The word was always said dripping with disdain. They had hated my profession, hated the embarrassment of having me on their team, made even worse by the fact that they actually needed me around. But when Alton said it… it just seemed normal.

I think my sense of normal has been greatly skewed.

I regained my composure and nodded at him. “Good morning. What are you working on?”

“Repairing my torn robes.” He gestured a pile next to him on the floor. “They have low durability so they break down easily.”

“Shouldn’t you just buy new ones?”

He nodded. “I could… but prefer to save my money for the things I really want. Better to keep it close, since you never know what important things you might need it for… especially in this world.”

“Says the guy who put a 100,000 gold bounty on the head of the Hero?”

“Exactly!” He grinned viciously. “I save my money for important things like annoying idiots like him.”

I laughed at that. After another pause, I sat down on the floor next to him and grabbed a piece of dark cloth from the pile. Pulling a needle and dark thread out of my inventory, I began to stitch.

“You sew?” Alton asked, seeming surprised.

I pointed at his chest, where the stitched wound was still visible. “If I can patch you up, pretty sure I can sew up a sleeve.”

“…Good point… although I guess I didn’t realize the skills were transferable. Did you take on a Tailor side quest?”

“It’s not a skill, not a Fantasy Realm type skill at least.” I kept my eyes on my hands that were picking up speed as muscle memory took over. “I always liked to sew, even before the Downfall… it was a good way to relax. It seemed logical to decompress doing the type of sewing that didn’t have the possibility to kill someone if your stitch came loose.”

“Wait…” He held up his hand, shocked. “Were you a doctor before the Downfall?”

“Yeah, but I was still in surgery residency. So wasn’t like I was operating on my own… “

Alton blinked, seemingly trying to absorb this information. “That’s… impressive.”

I kept my head down, my hands moving smoothly without hesitation. “Not in my family.”

“Ah… familial disappointment. Something with which I am quite familiar.” There was a sad tone in his voice, a look in his eyes that seemed almost close to despair. “Unlike you, I did not go into the family business… making me somewhat of the black sheep of the family.”

“Your family business?” I probed, curious.

“Well, it wasn’t wizardry, that’s for sure.” I sensed he was avoiding the question, and dropped the topic. I didn’t know Alton that well, certainly not enough to push him to open up. I tried to find something else to talk about instead.

“So… what do you think about what I said yesterday?”

He seemed quietly relieved that I moved on. “Which sentence?”

“About finding a couple other people for our party.”

He continued to sew, thinking it over. “I guess it depends…”

“Depends on what?”

Alton looked up, his eyes serious. “On if you trust them.”

I paused at that, before finally answering in a cold tone. “I don’t trust anyone.”

The amulet around my neck felt icy cold against my skin, as always, as if reminding me of its presence, reminding me of the consequence of trusting someone.

“Not anymore.”

Alton nodded seriously at that, and I remembered the title that I saw in his Stat screen. “The Betrayed.” Given the particulars of the system of this world, I didn’t want to know how severe of a betrayal it would have to be to actually bestow a title like that.

Looks like we are both haunted by the consequences of trusting the wrong person. I feel like I already know the kind of person he is... even if it's not been a long time.

As if he heard my thoughts, he spoke up. “We have a lot in common. I’ve been watching you for quite some time. I have a good understanding of the type of person you are… and aren’t. I considered all the options before inviting you into my party. If you have someone you know that well… I would at least be willing to meet them.”

“You were watching me?” I raised an eyebrow at that. “Why?”

“First, I was interested because you were a healer. I didn’t think any had survived. Then I noticed you cleaning up after the Hero’s party’s antics. And then… it was partly because I was scared of you.” He smiled to soften the blow, but I still froze for a moment, before forcing my hands to continue.

“Scared of me?”

“Yeah… since I’m fairly certain that you are the only human in this world who is strong enough to kill me.”

I processed that. “So it’s a ‘keep your enemies close’ type deal?”

“Nah, nothing like that.” He laughed quietly. “It’s just the more I got to know you, the more I couldn’t escape a thought: That I thought you would be a good friend.”

“… You shouldn’t trust me.”  My tone was flat.

Alton seemed unfazed. “Why not? Are you planning to betray me?”

I shook my head.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You don’t know everything yet… even if you’ve been watching… there’s things… terrible, awful things you need to know about me before making any decisions.”

“None of us are saints in this world.” He briefly closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, before meeting my gaze once more. I could see the guilt within. “We were trapped here, forced to survive. We’ve all done things we regret. Don’t forget: I’m not far behind you in human kill numbers.”

There was a long pause.

“What are you thinking?” He finally asked, breaking the silence.

I knotted off the thread as I finished closing the tear, cutting it off with a neat motion. “I think you’re strangely naïve for someone called the ‘great evil wizard.’”

“If you say so.” Alton chuckled.

“I do.”

“So are you going to introduce this naïve evil wizard to your friends?” He finished sewing his robe, tying it off somewhat clumsily.

I froze at the word “friends."

______________________

“I need your help.” Jack’s eyes were intense as he cornered me, my back against a cold brick wall. The solidity of it grounded me, the realness of it reminding me that this strange world I lived in was my new normal.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. If the power gets into the wrong hands…” As I tried to turn away, he grabbed my face, forcing me to look at him. My skin crawled at  his touch, but the hard grip prevented me from pulling away.

“We don’t have a choice. The next gate is impossible without your help. If you refuse… everyone will die.”

He finally released me, and I tried to back away, but only succeeded in hitting my head against the brick. After a few long moments, I sighed.

“Just for the gate, right? You promise?”

“Of course…” He smiled. “We’re friends after all.”

______________________

I took a deep breath, ignoring Alton’s concerned look. “No. Not friends. But strong people who might be interested in partnering with us.”

I had no friends. I didn't dare. Not since I stopped calling Jack and his group that.

“Ah of course. `And you think these strong people will be okay partnering with me?” He pointed at himself with a quizzical expression.

I smiled confidently. “I have no doubt.”

______________________

SLAM!

The door slammed in our faces for the third time. Inside the building we could hear a muffled “GO AWAY!”

Alton looked over at me with a smile. “No doubt, huh?”

I frowned. “ I underestimated your bad reputation… or maybe mine.”

“I resent that. My bad reputation is more than enough to scare good prospects away on its own.” He glanced back at the door with a raised eyebrow. “Besides if they are too scared to even join us, I imagine they wouldn’t be that much help in a fight.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry. I’ve run out of suckers… I’m mean strong heroes to ask.”

He grinned at that, as we walked away from the last house and towards the 38th level City. The main road was deserted, this was one of the higher levels, and very few people advanced this far. Many chose to stay in the lower levels, avoiding danger. I kept a close eye on the surrounding forest, tense. The roads were generally safe, but the wariness remained all the same.

“So, just the three prospects, huh?”

“People on the World Leader Board who aren’t already in a party and not total psychopaths?” I shook my head, distracted from my obsessive watching of our surroundings. “You’re lucky I could think of three.”

“Well maybe it will just have to be you and me. I mean we ARE the top two players on the World Leader Board. It could be enough.”

We walked forward as I continued to ponder his words. I had not really seen Alton in action. However, his ranking and reputation as the world’s strongest player couldn’t be denied. “It might be enough, for a while. But I don’t know if that will carry us to the end. The gates are getting harder and harder… “

“Well, it’s not like teammates are going to just fall from the sky…”

“LOOK OUUUUUT!”

Alton and I rolled out of the way of the person falling from a nearby tree, both readying for battle. Alton whispered quietly, activating a dark magical flame that danced around his fingers. I on the other hand, simply stood in place, hands resting at my sides. If there was one thing I was good at, it was killing. I just needed to know if it was necessary. In the corner of my vision I confirmed my filled HP and MP, with some reassurance.

The falling person hit the ground with a loud CLANG and her metal armor slightly deformed from the impact. She the rolled several times, coming to a loud stop on her back at my feet. Her young, bright eyes stared up at me with delight.

“Healer!”

I looked down at her, and sighed. “Hello, Stephanie.”

Alton glanced at her, and then looked at me. “You know her?”

“WE’RE BEST FRIENDS!”

“No.”

Stephanie and I answered at the same time. Alton laughed, and held out a hand to the teenage girl. “Nice to meet you, Miss Healer’s best friend. I’m Alton.”

Her eyes widened. “The evil wizard?” I braced myself for her to scream or run away similar to the prior “strong” people I had tried to recruit. Instead, she smiled with great relief. “THANK GOODNESS!”

“Huh.” Alton seemed just as confused as me. “Never had that reaction before.”

Stephanie in response pointed a group of monsters emerging from the nearby forest, heading towards us. “Can you guys lend a hand?”

I studied the new threat carefully. There were eight wolf like creatures, 5 feet tall with long horns, large jaws and rows upon rows of blood-stained teeth. They moved as a pack, snarling and howling as they closed in on their prey.

Alton shrugged nonchalantly at the sight, and pointed at me. “I’ll help if she says it’s okay.”

“Great!” Stephanie sat up with difficultly, her armor hindering the movement, and placed her hands together in a praying gesture. “Please?”

I pushed up my sleeves. “Sure. I had some energy I wanted to get out anyways. Alton, you take the four on the left?”

He nodded in response and began chanting.

I faced the four beasts on the right with a thoughtful expression. One out of the group was larger than the rest, likely the leader of the pack.

**The Healer has activated wordless incantation. -300MP per use.**

The wolf monsters were racing closer. I sensed the end of Alton’s chant coming and raised a hand, pointing.

**The Healer has cast Immobilization -10MP/sec while active.**

The three smaller wolves froze, tumbling to the ground. The larger stumbled, but shrugged off the spell, obviously having some magical resistance. I moved forward, going at my highest speed. If a spell won’t work…  I pulled a syringe out of my inventory. As I reached the leader. I saw Alton finish his chant out of the corner of my eye. A black flame surrounded the monsters he faced, burning them to ash.

**Alton the Great Evil Wizard is credited with 4 monster kills, awarded 160XP and +4 fame. You receive 20XP as a party member.**

The lead monster snapped at me as I leapt over its head, its teeth missing my arm my a hair. I jumped and straddled its back, grabbing its rough, stained fur in one hand, and plunging the syringe into the large muscle near its shoulder joint with the other.

**The Healer has used custom potion – Anesthetic. Patient is paralyzed and sedated for 3 minutes.**

The monster under me let out a groan and collapsed to the ground. Letting out a sigh of relief, I looked over at the smaller wolf monsters and reached out a hand.

**The Healer has cast Debridement x 3. – 60MP.**

Black blood spilled out from large wounds in their necks, pooling under the three bodies, soaking the grass beneath them.

**The Healer is credited with 3 monster kills, awarded 120XP and +3 fame.**

 Now that the small fry are out of the way… I waved away the notification and pulled a scalpel out of my inventory, the small blade in my hand reflecting the bright sunlight.

If spells won’t work, then I’ll just do it the old-fashioned way. I couldn’t use weapons, only medical/healing potions and tools. A scalpel although tiny, was the closest thing I had to a bladed weapon. I reached out towards the wolf’s neck.

“WAIT!” Stephanie cried out, causing me to pause before I cut the monster’s throat. “Don’t cut it!”

I raised an eyebrow. “You want me to spare the monster that was hunting you?” I noticed that Alton had kept a small amount of magic around his hand, ready to strike at any moment. It was strangely reassuring to see that he wasn’t always so trusting of others.

Stephanie looked at me, confused. “What? No! I just meant please don’t CUT it! I need an undamaged pelt for a quest. Can you kill it without hurting its pelt?”

I thought it over, still holding the scalpel to its throat in case the potion wore off. “Depends. What about the quest rewards?”

She deflated slightly at the question. “50-50 split? I did spend days tracking them down.”

“Deal.” I put my scalpel away, and pull up a buckled strap. With a quick practiced movement, I placed it around the wolf’s head, and tightened it over the neck.

**Healer has utilized tourniquet. Blood flow to the affected area is cut off. Please utilize caution, patient received 10 damage for each second that the tourniquet is in place.**

I waited patiently.

**WARNING! Patient airway is compressed and is becoming dangerously hypoxic. Please secure airway to continue healing. Patient will receive 50 damage for each second that airway compression remains in place.**

I continued to wait.

**The Healer is credited with 1 level 20 monster boss kill, awarded 200 XP and +5 fame.**

I removed the tourniquet, wiping down the strap before replacing it into my inventory. I glanced over at Alton and Stephanie who stared at me in surprise. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“…Umm… did you just kill a boss monster… with a syringe and a belt?”

“It’s a tourniquet, but yes.”

“Cool.” Alton gave me a thumbs up.

Stephanie shrugged off her apparent shock and ran to the boss monster, using a skill to remove the pelt without any tools. She then paused, and stood in front of both of us, shuffling back and forth slightly.

“So…”

I cleaned my hands with a handkerchief and some water, not looking at her. “What do you want this time?”

“This time?” I waved away Alton’s question and looked at Stephanie, who didn’t make eye contact.

“Well, I guess I wasn’t here JUST for the wolf pelt… I may have also come here looking for you… and remembered to finish the quest when I saw them in the forest on my way over.”

I didn’t change my expression. “What do you want?”

Striking a pose, slightly hindered by her dented metal armor, she answered dramatically: “…I heard you were recruiting… Can I join your party?”

"..."

"..."

Alton and I stared at her.

 “Wait. How did you know we were recruiting?”

“After you asked three people you are seriously asking this?" She shook her head in disgust. "You both are famous! It’s been all over the world chat since you were first sighted together!”

Groaning, I pulled up the display that I rarely opened anymore. After the Downfall, the people pulled into this game like world had quickly discovered a worldwide chat option. There were many different topics, guides and other discussion available to read through and comment on.

In the first few weeks after waking up in this world, I used to read through the gossip and other new topics daily, hoping desperately that someone would discover what had happened, why we were here, or perhaps some tips on succeeding as a healer. Instead I quickly discovered it was a toxic cesspool of humanity, filled with petty arguments, lies and gossip.

I quickly became a common topic of discussion on the chat board. As the only high level healer, part of the Hero’s party, and the player with the highest number of human kills, I was infamous, with entire forums dedicated to analyzing how I was accomplishing it.  The conclusions they often came to were often not very flattering towards me.

There were also fan clubs and forums dedicated to the Hero and his party, and they were also my strongest critics as well, accusing me of dragging the hero and his party down. I flinched from the memories, but quickly pulled up the world chat, noting that the top topic of discussion was about Alton and me.

______________________

“THE HEALER AND THE EVIL WIZARD HAVE TEAMED UP AND ARE RECRUITING NEW MEMBERS!”

The infamous mooching healer from the Hero’s party has officially split from them and joined the Evil Wizard! No one knows what horrific plans they are concocting, but whatever it is must require strong people, as they have been sighted trying to recruit two free agents on the leader board, and were last seen on level 38, likely to recruit Dallas the Barbarian! We’ll keep you posted!

______________________

I frowned at the post, quickly scanning the comments below.

______________________

“ Good riddance! It was always a drag to see her running behind the hero’s party, getting carried by them. “

“That’s terrifying! The Evil Wizard has friends? If you see them, you better run!”

“Who would want to joined such a cursed party?”

“… So who else is shipping them?”

“Weirdos will ship anything with anything. Get out of here with that nonsense.”

“Pieces of trash will always gravitate together.”

______________________

I looked at the last comment, which was posted by Rita the Holy Archer. She was a member of the Hero’s party as well, and not someone I had ever gotten along with.

Alton was staring blankly, obviously scrolling through the chat as well. He made a weird expression and waved his hand back and forth, dismissing it and muttering to himself. I stepped forward, patting his shoulder comfortingly.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a bunch of idiots chattering.”

“Worried?” He looked at me, confused. “I’m not worried about the comments. There’s a whole thread dedicated to taking bets on what sort of horrible death I’ll have. This is child’s play.”

“Then why the weird face?”

He looked away awkwardly, mumbling something I couldn’t hear.

“What did you…?”

“I saw FAN ART, okay? They made fan art of the two of us…” He covered his face with his hand.

“Why would they…?” I paused. “Can I see it?”

“No. No. I would rather die.”

What on earth did he see? Before I could ask further, Stephanie pushed again.

“Guys? I’m still here! Can I join?”

Alton stared coldly at her. “I don’t know you, or trust you. It depends on what Miss Healer has to say.”

Stephanie turned towards me, but only received an eye roll in response to her puppy eyes. “I can vouch for the fact that she’s strong. She’s a barbarian warrior, and obsessed on leveling up her strength stats.”

He looked at the girl in her late teens and her tiny frame. “…If you say so”

I sighed. “Show him your sword.”

“Sure!” Grinning, Stephanie raised her hand, an enormous cleaver type sword longer than her body appearing in it. It looked incredibly heavy, but she waved it around as if it were weightless. Alton applauded politely at her show of strength. Finally, she put it away. “I’m forty-third on the Leader Board, partially due to the fame I gained for my strength stats, which are the highest in the world here.”

“The real question is…” Alton turned towards me. “Why wasn’t she on your list of people to recruit?”

“I told you my list was strong people who weren’t in a party who weren’t total psychopaths.” I looked at Stephanie pointedly. “She is absolutely crazy AND she’s in party already.”

She grinned. “Not anymore, Healer! I quit my party the minute I saw you were recruiting on the forum! I owe you my life, how could I not take advantage of that opportunity?”

“And your fan club of a party allowed that?”

“I had to chop off a hand or two, but eventually they got the point and agreed to let me be happy and follow my dream.” Seemingly unconcerned by the intense violent acts she spoke about, she held out her hand to me with a smile. “So do we have a deal?”

I looked up at the sky. “We do need a tanker…” Crazy or not, she is really strong... I took a deep breath, and shook her hand. “Fine.”

“YAY!”

**Stephanie the lovely Barbarian has accepted your invitation to join your party! She will have access to shared inventory, and her stats will become visible upon medical scan.**

“Should we head on, or are anymore of your friends going to suddenly jump out of trees to join us?” Alton finally asked, breaking the silence.

“Who knows?” I turned to Stephanie. “Where do you need to turn in your quest?”

“Where else?” She grinned. “Winter’s General Store.”

"..." Rubbing my forehead, and trying not to cry, I asked quietly, “Are you out of your mind? You realize he would kill you if you didn’t bring back the pelt?” Alton looked at me questioningly, but I gestured at him to let it go and he remained silent.

“No he wouldn’t!” Stephanie burst out. “He promised that since I was your friend he wouldn't kill me! ... He would only maim me if I failed.”

“You’re not my friend.”

“That’s right, we’re not friends… we’re BEST friends!”

“Heaven help us.” I groaned and pulled up a traveling artifact. “Let’s go see Winter before he decides to come see us.”

______________________

As we arrived in level 1 City, we quietly moved towards the back alleys near the water front. It was a mostly deserted area known for its paid killers, black markets and the most desperate part of humanity. The few people we ran into were cloaked and minding their own business, but I kept my guard up, refusing to dismiss wordless chanting despite the mana drain. I wanted to be able to fight at a moments notice.

“Who is Winter?” Alton asked finally as he followed us through the winding and increasingly dark streets.

“An NPC!” Stephanie answered cheerfully. “A really powerful one. He really likes the Healer too”

Alton was shocked, as I knew he would be. There were scattered being that looked like humans, but weren't that could give quests, termed Non Player Characters given their similarity in role to NPCs in the game. However, since their discovery in this world since the Downfall, their interactions with humans were limited. There were a few that would hand out quests, a few that ran shops, but all of them had one thing in common:

They despised humans.

They treated human players as lesser beings, only worthy of cheap and dirty missions or tasks that they didn’t want to take care of. Many attempts at befriending or learning about them were made in the beginning, but universally they responded with only vitriol and disdain.

No one knew why they were here. If they were part of whatever scheme this was that had trapped us in this world. But we knew one thing: Any attempt to harm them went poorly. They could be harmed. Could even be killed. But any player who did so would find themselves hunted relentlessly by the City 1 guard, who wouldn’t rest until the offending player was dead. After a handful of deaths, this became the new normal and people learned to leave NPCs alone for the most part.

I gave most NPCs a wide berth. I didn’t understand them, or trust them.

But Winter was the exception.

We arrived at the store, pushing it open to the sound of a tinkling bell overhead.

“Winter! Guess who I brought?!!” Stephanie crowed as she pranced in, before coming to a sudden stop. I halted behind her, and Alton beside me as we stared silently at the group already in the store, arguing with an annoyed appearing Winter.

“What bad luck.” Alton whispered, and I had to agree.

It was the Hero’s party.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

part 2 of feeling this?

Hi! I hope you like this! I want to turn it into an actual series as long as people like it:)

Feeling This - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 2

Part 1

No warning, just Fluff and Ethan being a sweetie pie🥹

Summary: Ethan helps you study

Ethan was so giddy as he walked back to his dorm that night, he felt like he was floating instead of walking. Chad high-fived him when he mentioned how he went back for the kiss.

“Yes, dude! I’m proud of you!” Chad said, as Ethan sat there beaming. “You never know, you might not be a virgin forever after all.”

Ethan’s face dropped a little, “I don’t want her to think that’s what I want from her, ya know?”

Chad took in the tone change, looking over his friend’s face, “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just saying, most people in relationships sleep together. If you guys get serious, it could happen.”

“Yeah, I don’t know. I just want to get to know her, and hopefully she doesn’t think I’m a total fucking loser,” he sighed, flopping onto his bed.

“She doesn’t. Saturday will be great,” Chad said, Ethan’s face starting to perk back up.

He heard his phone ding in his pocket, he pulled it out to see a text from an unknown number. After reading it over, he realized that it was you.

You: Hey, I got your number from Mindy…I hope you don’t mind.

You: Thanks for walking me home😊

Ethan: Of course😘

As soon as he sent the kiss-face, he felt like an idiot. The last thing he wanted to do was come off too strong.

You: Goodnight😘

His heart skipped a beat in his chest when you responded with the same emoji, but he decided to lock his phone before he did anything to actually embarrass himself.

You woke up earlier than you normally did the next morning. You usually don’t have time to stop for coffee on the way to class, always having to settle for your roommates Keurig to get the energy you needed to get through the first half of the day.

As you walked into the coffee shop, you bumped into Chad.

“Hey, good morning!” he greeted, and you started to wonder why he was here. He seemed like he already had plenty of energy before 8am.

“Good morning,” you said, the groggy tone in your voice making him laugh.

“Not a morning person, huh?” he asked, grabbing the cup from the barista.

“Not really. I woke up early today, so I have time to get coffee before class,” you said, before placing your order.

“Well, I gotta go. I need to get this to Tara before her first class,” he said, you sticking your bottom lip out at how cute that was.

“That’s so sweet! I’ll see you around, Chad,” you said, waving to him as he made his way towards the door.

After you got your coffee, you went to your first class. You listened to the professor talk about how so many of the students failed the last test, and that a lot of people are going to be surprised when the grades are posted. You started to feel sick as you thought back to the test, knowing that you were most likely one of the students that didn’t pass.

After making it through the rest of your morning, you decided to go to lunch with Mindy. That’s when you got the notification that your new grade had been posted.

“Fuuuck,” you groaned, seeing a 54 in bright red.

“What’s wrong?” Mindy asked as she sat across from you.

“I just bombed this test for my Philosophy class,” you sighed, as Mindy started to smile.

“Ethan took that class last semester. Ask him to study with you,” she said, taking a bite of your food.

You pulled out your phone, pulling up the message thread with Ethan.

You: Hey, how did you do in Philosophy last semester?🧐

Ethan: It was hard, but I passed it.😅

You: Wanna help me study?

Ethan: Of course. When?

You: I don’t have any morning classes tomorrow, if you’d maybe want to meet in the library?

Ethan: I have a morning class, but I could meet you at 10?

You: Perfect, I’ll see you then😊

“You’re a genius, and I love you,” you said to Mindy as you locked your phone.

“So…Ethan walked you home last night. How’d that go?” she asked, desperately wanting some details.

“He walked me to the door, and came back a few minutes later to kiss me,” you said, smiling as you thought back to it.

“I don’t know if he actually needed Chad and I’s help,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “He’s had a thing for you for months. He never shuts up about you.”

You blushed at her words, loving how sweet he was.

After lunch, the rest of the day flew by. The exhaustion set in as you tried to work on your assignments, passing out on the bed with your laptop in front of you.

When you woke up the next morning, you checked your phone, noticing a goodnight text from Ethan. You were a little bummed that you weren’t awake to respond, but once you noticed the time, you jumped out of bed and quickly changed. You had fifteen minutes to get to the library to meet with Ethan, and you didn’t want to be late and waste his time.

You ran into the library, scanning the room for the curly-haired boy. He was sitting at a table, working on his computer.

“Hey,” you said, taking a seat beside him.

“Hey, this is for you,” he said, handing over a coffee.

“You got me coffee?” you asked, taking a sip. “You got me my favorite drink.”

“Yeah, my roommate is a stalker and listened to your order yesterday to pass it along to me,” he laughed, as he started to type again.

“It’s really sweet that you did this for me,” you said, pulling out your computer. “And it’s really sweet that you’re taking time out of your day to help me.”

His cheeks had a pink tint to them, “I get to spend time with you. I don’t care if it’s just to study.”

Your heart swelled at his words as you pulled up your assignments, showing Ethan the most recent score on your test.

“Holy shit,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s okay, we’ll get your grade back up. I’ll study with you every day if we have to.”

“I hope I can get it back up. My scholarship kind of depends on my GPA being at least a 3.5,” you sighed, as Ethan looked over to you.

“It’ll be fine. Okay, Introduction to Philosophy…”

You studied with Ethan for over two hours, the both of you accidentally skipping lunch. He was a great tutor, but every time he got closer to you to explain something, you felt your heart race.

“I’m sorry, but I have to get to my next class. My day is full tomorrow, but we can spend some time studying before our date on Saturday if you want,” Ethan said, putting his laptop in his backpack.

“That sounds great. Thanks again, Ethan,” you said, standing up and giving him a hug. He pecked your lips as he pulled away, the simple gesture giving you a severe case of butterflies.

“I’ll text you later,” he said, walking towards the exit.

Your smile was huge as you stood there, taking a second to enjoy the feeling before packing your stuff to head to your film studies class.

[stickyjjaem]

dirty little secret - you're the only one who needs to know | bang chan

pairing: bang chan x reader, ??? x reader

genre: uni!au, predebut/idol!au, manager!reader, slow burn

chapter warnings: crying,

word count: 1.2k-ish

author notes: wow... only took me 2 years to finish this. thank u all for the love and support for this, epilogue coming soon w/ the sappy shit every writer does xoxo

taglist: @idunnomanmynamewastaken​ @freyaniobe​ @jellyglly @stepout-09-15​ @moremilkforkags (send me an ask if you would like to be added!)

Chan sits there in shock. The last time you called him Chris to his face was when you were shouting at him to get out of your house. Sure, you had written it on the note to him, but he couldn’t help but feel his heart jump as he hears it. Tears fill his eyes as he listens to you recall how he treated you when you started at the company, and he readies himself for the biggest heartbreak of his life. Except, it never came. A wave of relief washes over him, and Chan breaks down.

He didn’t deserve you, yet here you are, telling him that you still had feelings for him. Your arms open for him to fall into, and he falls into your shoulder as sobs wrack through his body. Your hand threads through his hair, comforting him in a way you had done back in Australia. The two of you sit there for what seems like hours, as Chan continues to thank you and apologise.

His breathing steadies, and he sits back up as you hand him a few tissues. You laugh a little at his puffy eyes and red nose, but he’s never looked so handsome.

“Thank you, y/n, seriously, thank you.” Chan smiles, sniffling a little. He knows he’s in for the ride of his life, but he’ll go to the moon and back if it means he has you by his side.

You aren’t easy on him. At all. Before you and Chris, the couple, there’s you and him, manager and artist – and the first awards show was mere weeks away. As much as you’d like to, there’s just no time to rebuild your relationship when there were new dance breaks to rehearse, stage mixes to be sent to the various events and stylists to co-ordinate stage outfits with. It’s the worst time to even be thinking about your relationship with Chris.

But, it’s perhaps the best time for Felix and Jisung to walk into your office, carrying a gift basket containing iced coffee, snacks and a folded piece of paper nestled in the front. The other boys didn’t know yet, but Jisung and Felix figured it out almost immediately after your conversation with Chris. You seemed happier to see the boys every day, he started working on more love songs in his free time – something must have gone right, right? At least they were kind enough to act as the secret messenger while you tested the waters.

“Oh, Y/N~! Your not-so-secret admirer has sent you a gift~!” Jisung waltzes over to your desk, setting down the gift basket as Felix places an energy drink right next to it (a personal gift from him). You laugh as you open the energy drink, taking a sip and sighing happily.

“Did he now? I wonder who it might be?” You take another sip and you motion them to sit down. Skimming over the note quickly, you smile to yourself as you move the basket to another part of your desk so you can lean over and talk to the two men sitting in your office. It’d become a habit for them to stay and gossip whenever they came by to drop off care packages from your not-yet boyfriend.

“I have a meeting with Minhye tomorrow confirming where I’m getting transferred, you know, conflict of interest and all,” you roll your eyes at your own comment. In all honesty, you were surprised the company didn’t fire you or put Chris on hiatus when you told them about your budding relationship – or the history behind it. You must have proven yourself enough for them to want to keep you on in some capacity, and you were grateful.

“We’ll still get to come see you, right?” Felix sat up, eyes wide in anticipation.

“Of course! I’m pretty sure I’ll be moving to Itzy’s management team, so I’ll still be around. Chris will still need his messengers.” You wink at the pair, laughing as they cringe at the thought of him spending hours on these gifts, stressing over the contents of the note when they know you’d be happy with just a ‘make sure you take a break’.

“When do we get to stop sneaking around, huh? I don’t know how much longer I can keep this a secret!” Jisung leaned back into the couch. You and Chris were having way too much fun at his expense.

“I mean… we could do it now? Tell the boys? I guess they deserve to know why their leader’s been so into love songs recently.” Felix and Jisung’s faces light up, and suddenly the phones were out to round everyone up for an impromptu meeting. Chris had mentioned telling them a couple of weeks ago; you told him you weren’t ready, and that you’d let him know when you were. But, you’d have to tell them why you were being transferred eventually.

The nine of you were sat in a circle in the middle of a practice room. Chris holds your hand in his lap, playing with your rings. Jisung and Felix trying to hold back their giggles, everyone else is quietly muttering to themselves. You turn to Chris, giving him a quick nod before taking a deep breath.

“Okay, so, I have some news to share. I am no longer going to be managing you guys.” The room falls silent. Jeongin’s eyes start to glaze over, Changbin’s sitting there in shock, Hyunjin and Minho let out a gasp.

“What?! Why? Did you resign?! Are you moving home?!?” Seungmin asks every single question the group had, and you can’t help but laugh as his frantic search for answers.

“No, Seungmin, oh my god, everyone chill out. I will be transferring to another group, not confirmed yet, but I’ll still be in the building.” The room erupts into laughter at the joke, instantly desolving the previous tension.

“So, if you aren’t leaving the company, why are you leaving us?” Jeongin’s voice wobbled a little, and you feel terrible. You’d grown close to him, viewing him as a younger brother of sorts, you reach over and grab his hand, squeezing it before Changbin wraps an arm around him.

“I… how do I explain this… I promise you I’m not going anywhere. You’ll see me just as much, if not more, isn’t that right, Chris?” You turn to him, smiling widely as everyone slowly realises the underlying context of what you’ve just said.

The once quiet practice room erupts into a sea of cheers, as you and Chris are all but tackled to the ground. You swear you see Hyunjin sigh and pull some notes out of his pocket to hand to Minho, who is busy dancing around celebrating his win.

“Noona! You worried me! I was gonna cry! You should’ve said the good news first!” Jeongin’s arms are wrapped tightly around your shoulders while Chris is inundated with taps on the shoulder and congratulatory messages. You can’t help but smile in relief. Felix and Jisung look just as relieved, happy to know they won’t be responsible for keeping your relationship with their leader a secret anymore. A soft kiss to the back on your hand reminds you that Chris was still next to you, and that everything was going to work out eventually.

[kittenchancorruptionarc]

((Hey, want to address something because I’ve been thinking about it and I feel kinda guilty (?) not sure if that’s the word to use here but yeah:

I should probably drop the whole strade stuff I was doing here. It isn’t very fitting for Fox after thinking on it and he’d more likely resent and repress it all. Also I think both writers involved lost interest in it too which is fine!!! I respect them both and wish them well.

I was also like, HEAVILY PROJECTING. Most of you know I haven’t been doing well mentally lately and I think I was lowkey self inserting through my muse because of it. The btd2 Ren event was also rushed. I rushed the second auction too.

I just feel bad for all of this and want to apologize. I’m also sorry I’ve been struggling to keep up with the threads I start. Again bad mental health and stuff.

I have much better planned for this account, and I’m going to try to pace things better from now on. Try to plan things way ahead of time too. Start doing threads and make events maybe once every other week or whenever I feel motivated for one.

I’ll use this as a learning experience rather then something to beat myself up over. I did make this account originally to mess with my friends after all!

I can still be self indulgent here in a different way but again dropping strade stuff. Sorry about that, I have my oc account for that lol im just shy to use it. Anyways uhh if I feel better tonight I might answer asks in character like I usually do! So feel free to send anything silly in there if not tonight I’ll def answer tomorrow when I wake up.

-Fox Mun 🦊 ))

[alphabetboyluvr]

bad decisions - jjk | ten

When his story pops up—a repost of tomorrow night's paint party event at Dionysus—you find yourself clicking through to your DM thread without much thought. You know he's at work. Know it's a 50/50 whether or not he'll get back to you before your mind begins to berate you again for how miserable you feel.  It's a simple message—Hey—and you're pleased that it's met with an equally simple reply not even a minute later. JustJK: To what do I owe the pleasure? You decide that "I'm about to cry over my shitbag ex so chose to message you instead" probably won't be Jungkook's favourite thing to hear, so you opt for a little white lie. You: Just wondering how the kids are. Part of you worries he won't understand what the fuck you're on about - but of course, he does. He's Jungkook. Gets you better than you get yourself, these days. JustJK: Missing their mother. 

Bad Decision #10 - Blonde

warnings: b is in her bleach era. love that for her!! jaykay is in the chapter for like 1.5 seconds and still manages to be the best thing about it. also if u think wow holly sometimes your chapters end very similarly, uhhh yes. ur right. mainly because my brain is smooth but also because jungkook is a creature of habit! it's within his character traits! not because im stupid! even if i am!

soundtrack: space - audrey nuna;  blonde - maisie peters

wc: 3.5k

bd total wc: 370k (on-going)

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

You suppose you really shouldn't be surprised when Seokjin leaves you on read. It happens as soon as he escapes the city, just like it always does. 

It's always the same; he'll come back to town for a few days—to visit friends, his family, or maybe for a haircut with the only barber he trusts—then leaves just as quickly as he comes.

The predictability of it all would be funny, you think, but your knees are getting worn out from how many times you fall for it; his charm, his deception, his pretty lips that soothe the burn of his selfish choices. 

He'll be radio silent for a while, and then suddenly, as if he's finally changed the batteries in his walkie-talkie, he won't be. It'll most likely be when he's on his way back to town in a few months time.

The saddest part is that you know you'll want to see him when he does. Will have the burning desire to show him just how well you've been; how well you've coped without him.

Most of all? You'll want him to know just how much you don't need him.

Inevitably, he'll end up in your bed, and you'll end up all in your head—again—overthinking and underestimating just how easy it is for him to drop you. Forgetting just how badly he fucked you up, only for him to remind you in the most callous of ways.

When Danbi comes home on Thursday night—three days since Seokjin's last message—she knows exactly what's happened. You've got a special kind of pout reserved for Seokjin-related upsets. It's always a little soft yet incredibly hard to break.

"You gotta stop letting him in," she says over a glass of red. She hates the taste, but loves the soft buzz in the pit of her stomach. Though she's much better suited to Moscato, Danbi will never turn her nose up at free wine.

If she knew why you were drinking it, she might consider rejecting it.

Seokjin's favourite. You'd bought it on the way home from work. Just couldn't help yourself.

Had figured that at least when you hugged yourself to sleep that evening, your lips would taste like his used to do, on the nights when he'd tell you that you're the most delightful thing he's ever laid his eyes upon. Would be all giggly. Wine drunk. Happy. In love.

But it's been a while since he did that. Feels like a lifetime ago, now. 

You shrug as you let the ruby-red liquid swirl in your glass. Fighting against your feelings feels like swimming against the tide.

Always struggling to breathe. Never winning. Failing. Falling. 

"I don't know how to, Dan."

"But you do," she insists.

And she's right. Of course you do. 

His number has never been blocked, but a simple restriction of access to you would solve so many of your problems.

Thing is, you kind of like him still being your problem. At least that way, on a technicality, he's still yours. Kind of.

Every time he comes back to the city, it's still your bed that he ends up in.

Never for the night. Just for an hour or two. Long enough for you to convince yourself that he can't stay away.

The lies you let your mind whisper are insidious. You're irresistible. He's still just as affected by you as you are by him. He can't possibly leave you.

And yet he does, each and every time.

He doesn't ever let you go. Not fully. Whenever you think you're getting over it, he shows up just to get you under him; his thumb, his spell, his body.

You're halfway through the bottle of wine when Danbi tells you once more that you need to get Seokjin out of your hair.

You've reached the end of it by the time you're grabbing your purse and heading for the closest Olive Young.

It's just down the street, by the crossroads that lead into town, and the staff there have seen you in worse states. A little tipsy has nothing on the mascara-stained eyes they used to be greeted with during the worst days of the breakup.

"Sure about this?" Danbi asks just to check before you take the boxes in your hands to the counter.

"Absolutely not, but he always hated me blonde," you grin a little sardonically. The happiness that comes with this change will be temporary, but you have to remind yourself that so was he. "At least even if I can't resist him, he'll resist me."

Peroxide and perhaps a little fried, your blonde hair had caught his attention in the early days - but you had dyed your hair dark in a bid to keep it. 

He'd said some bullshit in a conversation amongst friends about his preferences, and how he favoured the 'natural look'. You weren't together at the time, not officially - but everyone there was a friend of his. They all knew you'd be going home with him. It only took two boxes of dye to get him asking to be exclusive. A week later he was introducing you to his friends as his girlfriend. 

Funny what a little bit of conformity can do for a man who loves playing by the rules. 

You assume his desire to tick the boxes and do what is expected of him is also why he was such a bellend when it came to the glitter you liked to dust yourself in. 

Nobody's perfect though, so he was willing to overlook it. Was just one of the flaws he perceived in you. When you love someone, you accept them.

He ultimately never grew to love it, but for a while, you thought he might.

Bleach boxes in one hand, another bottle of wine in the other, you waste no time and head straight for the bathroom. Danbi follows you right in. She's always there to lend a hand or at least provide a Spotify playlist to get you through your woes. 

Folding the powder into the developing lotion by the sink, you know your bleach-induced bathroom antics could get you a spot in a Brad Mondo video.

All a little haphazard, you're without a mixing bowl and brush, so are having to use an old takeout container and a plastic spoon, instead.

It's not quite how the instructions suggest you should mix it all up, but no good ever comes from following the rules.

You'd tried for Seokjin, and look where that got you.

Unlike him, trusty Tupperware has never done you dirty before. No reason why it should now. 

Danbi sits on the closed toilet seat, legs crossed, a small bottle of bubbles in her hand. The bubbles had been a Christmas party favour from the office job she'd quit four months ago. Rediscovered when she'd been cleaning her room earlier that day, Danbi had taken to blowing pretty little bubble flurries your way all afternoon. 

Your reflection is captured in the peacock sheen of the bubbles while you study your rapidly developing hair in the mirror. 

You haven't bothered to change out of your shirt. It's not yours. One of Seokjin's. It's navy, and you hope the bleach ruins it.

"I think I've fucked up," you say all rather calmy, talking about your hair and not the shirt. It's not the end of the world if you have. Just hair, you always think.

Danbi shrugs. Has clearly spent too much time in your company, because she echoes exactly what you're thinking: "Just hair, babe. It'll grow."

That's the joy of your friendship; you both encourage each other with the same dumb remarks whenever you feel like you've reached the point of no return. 

After all, if you can't go back? 

Go forward.

"Plus," she adds, blowing more bubbles instead of taking a breath. "You can just chalk it up to being your hot mess era."

"Been in that for months already," you smile at her in the reflection of the mirror. You prod a little at your roots, and know that you definitely should have waited a little longer to work the bleach up to them. Bollocks.

You've done this enough times to know you'll end up with a gold band haloing around the top of your hair thanks to how easily your roots always lift. Nightmare. 

"Exactly, so you may as well look the part," Danbi encourages. Worst influence going, she is. Also the best at times, too. You find comfort in the fact she won't always say what you want to hear, but what you need to hear instead.

The conversation dissolves into empty chatter, gossip about Danbi's dog walking clients, mentions of Taehyung and how he's still trying to talk her into a mates-rates discount despite the fact they aren't actually 'mates'. She asked you about your Bartender That Smiles, and you say he's all good - before you have to insist there's nothing going on there. 

"He's got issues with his ex," you explain.

She rolls her eyes. "Don't they all? Boys and their first loves, I swear to God."

"Not sure she was his first," you defend, though you're not sure why. The thought lingers as you rummage around for an old tube of toner that you know you have hiding in the bathroom cabinet somewhere. It's been a while since your hair was pale enough to take toner, so it's been pushed right to the back.

Danbi is shooed from her perch on the toilet seat and into the living room as you let the shower run to heat it a little.  

The first crash of water against your skin is lukewarm. Tepid. Unappealing, but necessary. 

You hate anything other than boiling-you-alive degrees celsius, but know you need to be kind to your hair after the torture you've put it through. The water runs cloudy until the bleach is rinsed out, and then it runs purple thanks to your silver shampoo. It pools around your feet and seeps into the drain. Wishful thinking has you hoping memories of Seokjin will do just the same.

It's just to preemptively tone it, but you can't help but worry about the pigment taking too strongly on your roots. 

The ash toner you found in the cupboard is in a box by the sink. You plan on putting that over the top of whatever mess your hair is anyway, but it doesn't hurt to get a head start on the process. 

The water glistens a deep violet, briefly coating your skin - and for some reason, all you can think about is Jungkook, and how you'd really like to be downing a Purple Starfucker (or five) with him right now. He really is the perfect distraction. 

Still, you have a task at hand. You rinse your hair; ring it out. Sigh as you frown at the mess that greets you in the mirror—lilac roots, a yellow band haloing just like your thought it would, and silver ends. Brilliant.

It's as you're sitting with Danbi in the living room a little while later - body wrapped in a towel that isn't half as fluffy as Jungkook's favourite, ashy toner smothering your peroxide blonde hair - that you notice your phone flash on the coffee table.

Danbi clocks it first, and stifles a laugh as she reads the screen. "Isn't that the guy from the club?"

You assume she means Jungkook, and are a little perplexed to see it's Jimin's name on your screen instead. 

"Yeah... Jimin. Smooth talker, shit shagger."

"A glowing review."

"Hey, I still let him think he was good," you say as you reach for your phone to read his message out loud to Danbi. "You guys out tomorrow night?"

Sipping on her wine, Danbi raises a brow. Shakes her head in confusion. "He hoping for round two?"

"Fuck knows."

It's just gone midnight, so you consider maybe he's thinking about his desire for a hook-up, and is hoping for a safe bet in the form of you. 

And so you don't reply. If he double texts, you'll just lie and say you've fallen asleep.

The scent of your toner is beginning to give you a headache, so you go to rinse it and bid farewell to your final day as a brunette.

Sleep evades you. Doesn't want to let go of who you were, apparently. Wine makes you sleepy, and yet you're wired as if you've just had a triple shot americano.

But then it's three in the morning, and all you can seem to smell is the deep conditioner you bathed your hair in that evening. 

Somehow, when you look to the empty space beside you - delicately ruffled, a dent prevailing in the pillow - you convince yourself that you can smell fig leaves and coconut. The notes of his favourite aftershave linger like the ache in your chest. It's hollow, and you can't work out why it hurts quite as much as it does. 

If there's nothing there, how can it be so painful?

You sniff back tears that fail to truly form and pull your phone from beneath your pillow. It's hard to move your fingers when they're tangled up in puppet strings that Seokjin is refusing to let go of, but eventually you manage to tap through some Instagram stories in a bid to distract yourself from him. 

Inspirational quotes don't do much for you, nor do the engagement pictures of people you haven't given a second thought since graduation. There's an abundance of them. Smiling faces. Diamonds, or maybe just cubic zirconia. Fresh sets of nails, hands that are pink and warm from the heat of whoever's been holding them.

It's a curious thought; what people who haven't spoken to you in years must think of you now. 

You were the one who was going to succeed. Going far in life, made for a boardroom, would look incredible in a pantsuit—and yet you're working in a cafe, first-class degree of no more worth than the tissue paper you flush down the toilet. 

See, you switched out life goals for glitter. You wear it like armour; protect yourself from the world around you. Who cares about seriousness and success when you're a constant disco? Not you. Could never be you.

Or at least, you hope that's what people think. Hope that no one realises you're covering yourself in artificial shine; like a canvas in acrylic because you were too impatient to watch the oil paint dry.

One day you'll glow. Glow for real. 

For a while, you thought you had been with Seokjin. 

All you see when you look in the mirror these days is tarnished silver; copper alloy pretending to be much more than what it really is. Your skin will turn green eventually.

There is, however, one person you've managed to fool. 

When his story pops up—a repost of tomorrow night's paint party event at Dionysus—you find yourself clicking through to your DM thread without much thought. You know he's at work. Know it's a 50/50 whether or not he'll get back to you before your mind begins to berate you again for how miserable you feel. 

It's a simple message—hey—and you're pleased that it's met with an equally simple reply not even a minute later.

JustJK: To what do I owe the pleasure?

You decide that "I'm about to cry over my shitbag ex so chose to message you instead" probably won't be Jungkook's favourite thing to hear, so you opt for a little white lie.

You: Just wondering how the kids are <3

Part of you worries he won't understand what the fuck you're on about - but of course, he does. He's Jungkook. Gets you better than you get yourself, these days.

JustJK: Missing their mother. 

JustJK: Perry the Pigeon almost fell earlier.

JustJK: Roger the Robin looks like he has a broken wing.

JustJK: Must be one of yours. Inherited his mother's wonkiness <3

With each message that comes through, your smile grows wider in the midnight darkness of your bedroom. 

You: Careful or I'll file for joint custody.

You: Get poor Roger away from his father's cruel remarks <;/3

There's an ease to how you joke together, both aware of how unserious you are. There's no second-guessing, no worrying about saying the wrong thing. If you do, you'll say sorry and move on. No harm, no foul.

JustJK: Your appeal won't hold up in court, Byeol.

JustJK: You've neglected them ever since you spawned them.

JustJK: Haven't even paid them a visit!!!

Laughter stifles in your throat as your body curls up into a more comfortable position. The audacity of this boy, you think, ignoring the way he manages to get you entirely focused on something that isn't your own despair.

You: You've got full custody!!!

JustJK: And you're still allowed to come for supervised visits!!!!!

JustJK: smh and to think you call yourself their mother.

JustJK: I'm their mother now.

You pout at your screen, and whine a small little 'nooo'. 

You: They need me :(

JustJK: Come and see them, then. They miss their mother.

You: Tomorrow?

He reads the messages instantly, but takes a little longer than usual to reply. It worries you slightly. Makes you more aware of your surroundings. The scent of Seokjin's aftershave begins to permeate the air once more.

Until, all rather suddenly, it doesn't anymore.

JustJK: I'm not working tomorrow night, but Jimin's insisting on going to the paint party—you coming?

You: Will Perry the Pigeon be there?

JustJK: If he falls before I leave for the club, then yes.

It's not a bad proposition. One that quite intrigues you. One that has you agreeing, and him telling you to fuck off and go to sleep. He's got work to do, he says. 

It's actually quite quiet at the club—Yeonjun just caught him looking at his phone with a dumb smile a few too many times for Jungkook's liking. Doesn't wanna get caught out again. 

Especially doesn't want him catching onto the fact that there's a reason Jungkook's eyes light up like Disco Balls when he looks at his phone.

Yeonjun doesn't really have friends who are girls, Jungkook reasons with himself. Won't understand that he's perfectly capable of having a little flirt without it meaning anything more than that—after all, isn't that just what banter is? Friendly flirting? He does it with the boys all the time. Doesn't mean fuck all. Just fun.

Jungkook's a couple of years older than his cerulean-haired coworker, and has learnt the hard way that you really shouldn't escalate friends above the level of purely platonic. One day Yeonjun will realise this. 

For now, though, Yeonjun'll shag anyone who looks at him in the right direction. Has probably already ruined a few good friendships. Doesn't even realise he's done it.

Jungkook trusts himself not to make the same mistakes he's made in the past with you. Thinks that he's pretty happy with how things are. Has missed the dynamics of friendships with girls. Is looking forward to Monday movie night with you and Danbi again.

And yet when he gets home to find Perry the paper pigeon on his bed, he can't help but smile.

You wake up to a picture of the fallen bird in your DMs, and even though you'll whine and complain about it when you see him that evening, all you can do is smile, too.

JustJK: Looks like we're having a wholesome family trip to Dionysus tonight.

You: Mummy and Daddy reunited at last <33 Perry will be so happy.

JustJK: It's okay, you don't have to lie.

JustJK: I know you're talking about yourself, not Perry.

Jungkook doesn't send the message where he tells you not to call him Daddy. Knows you'll read into it; tease him about it. It's not like he's got a thing for it, or anything, he just... maybe wouldn't be opposed to it, and so he'd rather not be called it when he's having casual conversations with you. Wouldn't wanna get flustered. 

Part of you already knows this. Is precisely why you'd said it. It's not really your style, not the kind of thing that gets you going.

But it is also exactly why you choose to end your next message with, 'See you tonight, Daddy x'.

You're laughing as you send it.

And as he receives it, Jungkook groans. Buries his head into his pillow. Crumples Perry a little in the process. Whines. 

"Don't fuck this up, Jungkook."

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

[thaliaisalesbian]

i get myself twisted in threads

Chapter 3: where you'd always be

Chapters: 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, ao3

“I can do it.” El says, face set. “I closed a gate. I can open one.”

“We don’t know where Steve is, honey.” Mom tells her, gently. “You’ve said you couldn’t pinpoint where he is.”

“He keeps moving.” She insists. “Running. Hiding.”

Jonathan doesn’t think Steve is running from anything, not if he still has that bat. It’s more likely he’s searching for another gate.

He hadn’t run from the demogorgon, and he hadn’t even known what it was then.

There’s no way he’s running now, not if he’s got a chance to kill them.

Unless he’s too injured to put up a fight. But that’s not a thought Jonathan can let himself linger on.

“Would it really hurt to take her out into the woods?” He asks. “See if maybe it’s easier out there?”

It feels like the chance that they’ll find Steve is dropping drastically each day, even though El says he’s alive.

If El told him the only way to get Steve back was to listen to ABBA every day for the rest of his life, he’d do it. Not having Steve around has been… weird. The fact that they know where he is but can’t get him only makes it worse.

The kids have all been off, snappish to the point their teachers noticed, and Will yelled, actually yelled, at Mike yesterday.

“I will go alone.” El adds. “Find him by myself.” She would, too. The second they leave her alone, she’ll go into the woods and if she finds a gate? Well, she’ll almost certainly go through it.

Mom runs her hands through her hair, and Jonathan hugs her quickly. He knows she and Hopper haven’t been sleeping, that they’ve been staying up at night to try and figure out a good way to get Steve out. “Jonathan, Nancy, would you take her?”

Hopper and Mom both still have jobs, and the kids are in school—it’s probably for the best that they don’t know about this attempt. They’d just try and join in, and he really doesn’t want to wrangle six kids through the woods.

Technically, he and Nancy have school too, but Nancy’s got next week’s work done already and he can catch up easily.

It’s not like he’s really been able to focus on his teachers, anyway.

Steve might be able to handle the kids, probably would be if he or Nancy were trapped instead, but he has no idea how. Will and El, maybe one more of them, that’s fine for him. But all of them? Jonathan’s never been sure how to get them to listen.

“Yes.” Nancy answers. “We’ll take her. El, go eat and get dressed. We’ll try and be back before the kids get out of school.”

“Thank you.” Mom hugs all three of them, hard and fast, and then she has to leave, too.

“Do you really think she’ll find him?” Nancy whispers. They’re walking a little behind El, letting her lead them on whatever path she’s following. Possibly a path Steve has walked today.

“I don’t think she’ll stop trying until she does.”

They spend a lot longer in the woods than they intended to; the kids come and find them in the end. He doesn’t know how—they didn't bring a walkie with them, and it’s not like they would work at this distance anyway.

“Mom said since it’s Saturday tomorrow, we could help look now.” Will tells him. Jonathan doesn’t think he’s lying.

El hasn’t said much of anything to them all day; he has no idea what she’s been picking up on that makes her so sure Steve is close. She doesn't even greet the others, fingers staying loosely by her side when Mike tries to take her hand.

“Okay, but we’re not staying out too late.” He says, looking over all the kids.

“Yeah, we don’t want to be out here after dark.” Lucas agrees. “And my parents will kill me if I miss curfew again.”

“Here.” El stops after a few more minutes of walking. Mike tries to take her hand, but she ignores him again, the way she’s been ignoring all the kids since they showed up. Max isn’t able to get a reaction out her either. 

“Here? You’re sure?” Dustin asks, and all the kids start talking at once. Nancy leans towards him.

“Should we get Hopper and Joyce?” Yes. Yes, they should. They need to, really.

“I don’t think the kids will wait, even though it’s the smart thing to do.” They’re not unprepared; the kids have their little weapons, he knows Nancy has two pistols on her, and he’s got an ordinary bat, because El was not going to wait for him to hammer nails into this one.

“We have to go.” El looks at him, with all the seriousness and gravity of someone more than double her age, and points at the mini-gate ahead.

The edges are flickering, like it’s going to close soon.

It probably will.

“I am going.” She tells them. “They will come with me.”

“I know.” Jonathan says. They don’t have time to wait, and the kids won’t accept a couple of them staying behind to let his mom and Hopper know what’s happened.

Stepping in front of them, bat raised, he walks through the gate first.

Steve sees the faint glow of a gate, maybe a mile and a half away—he’s never been great at tracking distances.

He can’t run very fast; his legs won’t cooperate with that.

But he tries. He jogs as fast as he can, and eventually, he can see something—someone?—on the other side.

They come through—a group of people—and he’s too late. He’s too late, because the gate closes behind them.

If he had anything to bet, he'd bet that he knows exactly who they are, and what they're doing.

He sees the demogorgon before they do.

finish on ao3 or keep reading below

If he’s right—if they came after him—he can’t let them die. He can’t let them die for him. He pushes himself harder, faster, feels the still-healing bites on his ankles rip back open, start bleeding.

Good. It will draw it away from them.

He launches himself in front of them.

Swings the bat.

Feels it connect.

Rips it out.

Aims for the head.

Over and over again, ignoring the shouting behind him. There’s another one, circling, but it’s staying back for now.

Something bumps his shoulder, but when he glances over, it’s only Jonathan, standing back to back with him, his own bat raised.

Just a regular bat, though. It will hold them off a little, but it’s not great.

Nancy’s got a pistol out. Lucas has that little slingshot at the ready.

He can’t let them get hurt.

When the second one circles close enough, he goes for the torso on purpose, hoping to lead it away.

He doesn’t see the other two—demodogs, not fully grown yet, thankfully—behind it.

They bite and claw at him; he’s so close to them he can hardly hear the gunshots.

Jonathan pulls him away, looking… angry?

“Steve, what the fuck?” He asks. “Why did you do that?”

 “You didn’t… see… the first one… coming.” Steve barely manages to catch his breath enough to speak. He’s never really been a great runner. 

“No, I get that. Why take that one,” He nudges the second corpse with the tip of his bat, “alone?”

“I’m not letting any of you get hurt.” He looks them over, the kids’ faces all strained with worry and fear, Nancy still holding her pistol tightly. “I swear it, I’ll protect you all, or I’ll die trying.”

“Steve.” Nancy gasps, and he knows she didn’t mean to say it that way, like it was wrenched from the depths of her soul, from the look on her face.

“Come on.” He pushes against Jonathan a little, stepping towards the kids, even though standing by himself hurts. It’s worse than it’s been in days, but they really can’t afford to stay out here. He can’t protect them all in the open like this, and Nancy will run out of bullets if they’re not careful.  “I don’t really have a hideout, I’ve just kind of been sleeping in trees. But we’ve got to get you all somewhere safe.”

"Hurt." El slips her warm little hand into his free one.

"I'll be okay," He tells her, remembering her lying rule. "We can take care of it when we’re safe.”

He needs to get them out of here.

El squeezes his hand, hard. God, she’s just a kid. A little girl. She shouldn't see him like this.

None of the kids should, and he wants to be pissed at Nancy and Jonathan for bringing them here, but he doesn’t have time right now. They can't stay out in the open.

“Where are we going, Steve?” Dustin comes around his other side.

“My place.” He says. He hasn’t actually been there yet—he’s been avoiding it; it’s probably not much better in the Upside Down than in it is Hawkins—but it’s closer than the Byers’. He probably wouldn’t make it there, at this rate.

That, and his packets of crackers are barely enough to keep him fed. He doesn’t know how long they’re going to be in here for, doesn’t know when—or if—another gate will open anytime soon.

“How long has it been?” He asks as the kids gather around him, mindful of the nailbat.

“Nearly two weeks.” Nancy answers. “We haven’t found another gate. El could tell us you were alive, but she couldn’t pinpoint where you were.”

“I’ve been moving a lot.” He nods to one of his marks on the trees. “Trying to find a gate or something.”

“Yeah.” He can feel their eyes on the back of his head, even as the kids start whispering to each other and asking him questions.

He does his best not to think about how hurt Jonathan looked when he pushed him away. It's not Jonathan actually cares, anyway. He's probably only here for the kids' sake.

“This looks bad, Steve.” He’d only let Nancy in to help clean and bandage the wounds because El had stared him down. He can handle this himself, and from Nancy’s frown, she’s not too happy about it either. But he doesn’t need to get in a fight with a superpowered pre-teen today.

“It’s been nearly two weeks, they were healing. Ripped back open today. This is the worst they’ve been in a while.” Steve leans back against the mirror. The rot of Upside Down doesn’t seem to have infected his house like it has the woods, or maybe he’s just used to how things look here now.

That, and if he’s not facing the mirror, he doesn’t have to think about how he must look—probably pale and unwell, with too-long hair and an unshaven face. 

His mother would throw a fit if she saw him.

“What have you been eating?” She asks. “Most of the food here doesn’t look edible.”

“It isn’t.” He doesn’t bother to hide the wince as she tightens the bandages. She’d call him on it if he did, and he doesn’t have the energy for that lecture right now. “I’ve got crackers.”

“Crackers?”

“If you know about more food around here, feel free to go get it. I checked the school first. I tried town first, you know. Got chased out. That’s how I got these in the first place.” 

“We’re going to get out of here.”

Spoken like someone who hasn’t been looking for a way out for two weeks.

“Yeah, we need to get the kids out.” He agrees, and it’s not what she wants him to say, but Will’s already been stuck here, and he still has ‘asthma’ attacks fairly often. 

Joyce and Hopper wore Hazmat suits when they came in here. They have none of that protection.

By the time he’d realized he should be wearing something over his mouth and nose, it’d been a few days. They had in the tunnels, but he’d been more concerned with other things at the time.

“If there are clothes that aren’t infected here, use them as masks.” He hops down from the counter. “We don’t have anything to cover our eyes, but we should limit exposure as much as we can. Especially for Will.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve survived two weeks, Nancy.” It’s a little mean, but he doesn’t care about being nice right now. She and Jonathan are one thing—ideally, none of them should ever be here, but all the kids?

They can be stubborn but they’re also all like five feet tall, it’s not that hard to shove them to the ground.

“Steve.” Nancy’s hands are on his face when he looks at her again. They’re warm, and he wonders how cold his skin feels to her. 

Everything feels so cold here. As much as he wants to pull away, he can’t make himself do it, savoring the warmth for a moment.

“What’s going on? You spaced out.” 

Fuck. He hadn’t had anyone to confirm those episodes, and he can’t tell time here anyway.

“I’ll be okay.” He steps out of her reach. “Don’t worry about me. We need a plan.”

“The kids have been making one around the kitchen table the whole time we’ve been up here, I think we can spare a few minutes.”

“And those few minutes don’t need to be in the Upside Down. The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

He walks around her when she doesn’t move out of his way.

“Steve.” He turns to look at her, watches the way her brow scrunches as she looks him up and down again. “You don’t have to pretend.”

“Pretend what?”

“Don’t play dumb, it really doesn’t suit you. You’ve always been good at reading people, you know exactly what I mean.”

“Later, Nance.” He doesn’t want to explain to her—with the kids probably listening right outside the door, because she says they’re at the table but they’re all too curious for their own good—that he’s been in pain, cold, starving, and terrified out of his mind for the better part of two weeks and that he’s drained, he’s tired of all it. And when they weren’t here it wasn’t as much of a problem—he could sleep in any tree he wanted, pretty much, as long as he could climb it. Now he has to figure out how to feed them all and keep them all safe. Sure, Nancy’s got her pistols, Jonathan’s got that new bat of his, but she’ll run out of bullets eventually and a regular wooden bat isn’t very effective against demogorgons.

Of course, El’s here too, but he doesn’t want her to fight if she doesn’t need to. Her powers take a lot out of her and she shouldn’t need to worry about that, or protecting her friends. 

“Steve! Are you gonna die?” Dustin doesn’t even wait until the door is fully open, and Steve lets himself laugh. 

“No, shithead. I’m not going to die. Don’t worry about me. We have a plan to make, remember?” Dustin nods and immediately starts talking, which means the others all start putting in their own ideas.

They’re so easily redirected at times, it’s almost funny.

What it really serves as is a reminder for young they are, all over again.

He’s not paying much attention to what Jonathan is doing, so he nearly falls over when he wraps a warm arm around Steve’s waist.

“You look like you’re going to fall over, man. Let us help you for once.” He doesn’t sound mad, not the way he did earlier, but Jonathon Byers is one person he’s never been good at reading, no matter how many times he tries. Will is a little easier—he’s still a kid, and the amount of trust he and the rest of the kids put in Steve helps.

Most days, he’s not even sure that Jonathan likes him, let alone trusts him.

Actually, these days, he knows Jonathan doesn't like him. 

“Thanks?” It comes out as more of a question than he intends, and he ignores the ‘subtle’ look Nancy and Jonathan share. Since when do they want to help him?

“Nancy, do you remember where my bedroom is?” He asks. “We need to get stuff for masks. And maybe some of it can be ripped up for bandages.”

“Do you think we’ll need more, Steve?” Will’s at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide. “Are you bleeding a lot?” He and El have stayed a few steps behind the other kids, and Max is half-turned toward them like she’s listening in, too.

“Nah, little Byers, but it’s good to be prepared, right?” He detaches himself from Jonathan and manages the last few steps on his own, ruffling Will’s hair. “Like you would in your dungeon game, right?”

“Dungeons and Dragons, Steve, come on.” Will rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling a little bit. Will’s caught onto his little game of pretending he doesn’t know what Dungeons and Dragons is called, but none of the others have yet.

“You can’t keep hiding things from them.” Jonathan says quietly. “They’re going to be insufferable when they find out.”

“Yeah. ‘Friends don’t lie.’ I know. But for now, they don’t need to be worried about me. We need to get out.”

“And you think any of us is going to let you stay behind and play bait?” Now he’s upset, moving into Steve’s space, and it would be so easy to shove him away, but he doesn’t really want to.

Jonathan’s warm, and everything here is so cold.

And because, even though he knows it's only so the kids don't overhear, for a second Steve can pretend it's because Jonathan cares.

Not the time to think about that.

“Or were you going to leave that part out?” Nancy’s holding what looks like a drawerful of his clothes. “You can distract them all you want, Steve, I know you.”

Does she?

They haven’t exchanged much more than small talk in months, even before he overheard their conversation.

He knows better than to tread where he’s not wanted, no matter how much it hurts.

Watching Steve turn away stings more than she thought it would. Jonathan takes half of the clothes out of her arms, giving her a look.

“He wants us to use them as masks.”

“And he hasn’t had one this whole time because…”

“His old bandages were ripped from the clothes he’s wearing.” He didn’t have anything else.

“Did he tell you anything?”

“Not really.” Steve’s good at figuring other people out, but when it comes to himself, he either doesn’t care to—or maybe he doesn’t know how.

Nancy pauses. Steve had zoned out, but only for a few minutes. It might not be anything.

It could be something here affecting him. Does he even know that he’s been zoning out? What if it had happened while he was climbing a tree, or fighting off a demogorgon?

Or it could be from the concussions he’s had lately. She’s noticed that he’s been getting migraines more than he ever used to.

It scares her.

It scares her, because after Hargrove beat him up, Hopper had had to go after him when he’d tried to walk home, and it wasn’t until Joyce saw his face in daylight the next morning that she’d insisted he go to the hospital.

That had been a fight. The kids had been stumbling over themselves to talk in between calling their parents and making plans to get home.

She knows his parents weren’t home. He wouldn’t have tried to leave if they were.

He had to have lied about Joyce and Hopper about it; there’s no way they would have let him stay by himself.

She’d been pissed at herself when she’d seen him at school the next week, bruises looking worse than ever, and had realized that she hadn’t even thought to mention that he was probably alone to anyone.

She hadn’t even checked up on him once. She doesn’t know if Hopper or Joyce did. IF they had, they hadn’t mentioned it.

Out of habit, she checks that her pistols are in place.

“What’s that for?” Mike asks, just a little too loudly.

“Arts and Crafts, Wheeler, get with the program.” Steve deadpans. Mike glares at him, but when Lucas elbows him he doesn’t say anything.

“Steve thought we should all have something to cover our faces,” Nancy explains. “Tie it around your mouth and nose.” She hadn’t really gone through them earlier, but t-shirts should work, right? They’ll be really big for their intended purpose, sure, but that just means they can double or triple fold them.

More layers might be better protection, too.

She ties hers on as the kids help each other with theirs. As soon as Steve has tied Max’s into place, she turns around and holds out a hand.

“Aw, Maxie, are you going soft on us now?” Steve teases, voice lilting a little, and she kind of hates the way it makes her heart lurch. He used to tease Holly with that tone.

He used to tease her with that tone. They're not friendly enough for it now, and it just reminds her of how much she's been missing him.

A little ridiculous, really, because he’s been right here the whole time.

“Never.” She scoffs. “I’m just making sure you set a good example.”

And even though she knows it’s different, she misses when things were that easy between them.

“Hey, Steve.” She catches his attention when the kids have moved away. She probably should have asked earlier, while they were still upstairs. It would have spared him some pain, at least. “Did you want to change?”

“Yeah, I probably should.” But he doesn’t stand up right away, and when he does he’s leaning on the table for a long moment before he straightens and takes the set of clothes she’d grabbed for him. 

She doesn’t even have to look at Jonathan for him to follow Steve out, in case he falls or something.

Steve’s not going to be happy that they’re hovering, but he’s scaring her.

Nancy’s also worried that he’s hiding another injury from them—something more immediately dangerous than his ankles.

“Is Steve okay?” Dustin asks, looking ready to go after them. Steve would hate the kids seeing him like that even more than he will Jonathan, though.

“He’ll be okay. He’s just worried about all of you.” She tells him. She doesn’t want to lie to the kids, but Steve might actually kill her if she tells them the whole truth. “He’s figured out how to survive here alone, and even though we want to help him, he has to worry about us now too.”

“We can take care of ourselves!” Mike protests, and she shoots him a look. “El has powers!”

El shakes her head. “I have been using them to find Steve.”

“Well, you still have them!”

“Steve does not want me to use them.” She answers, in that calm, serious way of hers. It would be unnerving if Nancy wasn’t so used to it.

“We can talk about that later. What have you figured out so far?” She tries to redirect. Will’s got a piece of paper in front of him, and he’s been sketching a very rough map of the woods.

She’s not sure where he found it, or if he’d brought it in. She’s not sure it’s worth it to ask right now.

“Steve said he’s been sleeping in trees, right? Maybe he’s noticed more unusual spots.” Lucas nods to the map. “Maybe he can mark them for us.” The kids are off again, going over what Will remembers—which he’s never been the most forthcoming about—and their own theories.

Nancy leaves them to it and goes to raid the kitchen. She’d only taken a glance earlier, but it turns out what Steve said is true.

Everything that’s cold is bad. He’s got some wrapped foods that might be okay, but she’s not sure how much she wants to risk someone getting sick here.

“Nance?” Jonathan’s voice pulls her from her cupboard search.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing happened.” He glances back into the dining room and lowers his voice. “Just wanted to know what you found.”

“Not a lot. These might be okay,” She shakes the still-sealed box of pop tarts, “But pretty much everything else is bad. He’s been living off crackers.”

“Mom is going to freak out.”

“At least it’s a weekend?” It's a ridiculous thing to say—they have no idea when they’ll get out of here.

They don't even know what time it is. It’s so dark here. 

“Yeah, I guess.” They check all the cupboards, but there’s not much else, only a few cans that aren’t covered in Upside Down mold.

It won’t be enough for all of them for long, and she doesn't trust anything left open, so they’re probably going to have to split one can at a time until they’re out.

God, she hopes they’re out of here soon.

<- 2 4 ->

[daegudrama]

Title: Go Your Own Way

Pairing: Namjoon/Woosung

Summary: Namjoon and Woosung come to a hard decision after weeks of arguing when faced with the reality of Namjoon leaving the region for college. In true fashion of their dysfunctional relationship they have one last moment of fun before calling it quits.

Word Count: 2282

As soon as the door shuts, Woosung presses Namjoon against the door. Their lips meet in fierce passion and Woosung is clawing at the buttons of his boyfriend’s shirt desperate to expose his toned muscles. Namjoon threads his fingers through Woosung’s long hair pulling just hard enough to sting. Their tongues push into each other's mouths playing together just as eagerly as all the times before. A rush of pleasure lights a fire in Namjoon’s chest and he pulls Woosung even closer until it's hard to tell where one man ends and the other begins.

Woosung successfully opens Namjoon’s shirt and breaks away from their kiss to attach his lips to the other man’s pec. His lips trail down Namjoon’s body stopping only when the other man’s jeans impede his progress. Woosung deftly unbuttons Namjoon’s pants and pushes them, and the underwear beneath, down just far enough to gain access to a large hard cock. 

Namjoon watches unmoving as Woosung’s tongue snakes out of his mouth to swirl around his blushed tip. He doesn’t tease long, forming a tight ring with lips as his head sinks down. Namjoon’s head falls back resting against the door. His boyfriend grips his thighs to steady himself as he works his mouth up and down Namjoon’s arousal. Heat rises to Namjoon’s stomach bursting like fireworks when Woosung lifts a hand to play with balls. The taller man grips Woosung’s shaggy locks earning a groan that sends a vibration down his cock.

Low moans pass Namjoon’s lips as he keeps his fingers threaded through Woosung’s hair. He is resisting the urge to fuck himself into the other man’s throat. Maybe he deserves it after the things he’s been saying to Namjoon lately. He tries to focus on the pleasure Woosung’s soft lips are bringing him but he can’t. Even after days of not touching each other like this he is still distracted.  

There’s a reason he asked Woosung to come here and it wasn’t to get his dick sucked. Namjoon pulls Woosung off of his length with a tug of his hair. Woosung looks up from his position on his knees with a confused look on his face, like there is no possible timeline where Namjoon wouldn’t love to be having his dick sucked by him. Under normal circumstances that might be the case, but not right now. 

The taller man leads them away from the front door, after abandoning his pants on the floor, and continues towards the bedroom. Woosung preemptively removes his shirt and jeans leaving him in just his white boxers. 

Namjoon stops once they reach the bedroom, turning away to roughly run his fingers through his hair. He lets out a frustrated sigh as he sits on the end of the bed, covering himself with the end of his blanket. 

“We have to talk about this.”

Woosung’s heart drops into his stomach not wanting to have this conversation for the hundredth time this summer. Namjoon is leaving tomorrow so Woosung guesses he should’ve expected he would bring this up again. Woosung knows Namjoon doesn’t want to leave any confusion on where they stand even if it's not easy to talk about. 

“No we don’t. I think you’ve made your decision very clear.” Woosung says taking a seat next to Namjoon on the bed. He is squirming uncomfortably in his seat desperate for any kind of friction against the obvious bulge in his underwear he can’t hide. “I want you to stay and you want to go to Paldea University far away from me.”

“You know that’s not why I’m leaving.” Namjoon sighs heavily, looking into the eyes of the man he loves, wondering where things went wrong. Surely, he did something wrong if Woosung doesn’t think their love is strong enough to handle long distance. “I don’t deserve to be treated like I don’t care about you. If you are so sure this isn’t going to end well, why don’t we end it here?” 

Woosung takes Namjoon’s face between his hands, holding tightly like he might slip away at any second. The taller man closes his eyes, taking a deep breath as he tries to get his emotions under control. How easy would it be to cave to Woosung’s will and do whatever he wants? Namjoon can’t let that happen. He can’t let a man get in the way of his education and dreams, even if it hurts. He can get over a man but he can never get over losing his best opportunity to make something of himself.

“Because I love you.” Woosung says firmly. 

In that moment Namjoon lets his heart win, surging forward to kiss him. The taste of regret, unkept promises, and confused feelings coating his tongue. Woosung holds him close, swinging his leg over Namjoon’s thighs to straddle him. Namjoon holds his waist, fingers digging into his skin as he guides Woosung’s hips to grind against his crotch. Woosung can feel Namjoon’s cock getting harder as his ass rubs against Namjoon. 

Woosung breaks away from the kiss, giving attention to the wide expanse of Namjoon’s exposed chest. While Woosung is sucking a mark into Namjoon’s left pec just above his nipple Namjoon finally speaks up. 

“We’re breaking up after this.” His voice is low and final.

Woosung pretends this doesn’t shatter his heart, knowing from the tone there’s no sense in arguing. Namjoon has made his decision. The man he loves most in this world values leaving the region for a potentially better school over his boyfriend. Over the man who has helped him through the hell the last year has brought to his life. Having him one last time is better than wishing for closure for the rest of forever, right?

“This better be the best sex we’ve ever had.”

Their lips meet again before Namjoon can answer. No softness is felt as Woosung hopelessly tries to remind the other man why they shouldn’t end this. Namjoon’s hands slide inside the waistband on Woosung’s underwear to grasp his ass. He pulls the round cheeks apart, slotting his cock over the fabric of the underwear. 

The fingers of Woosung’s left hand graze Namjoon’s nipple, stirring heat in the other man’s stomach once again. Namjoon breaks away from their kiss trailing his plush lips along Woosung’s shoulder. Gently he presses a kiss against the rose tattooed just to the right of Woosung’s collarbone. 

Namjoon lifts his soon to be ex boyfriend and scoots up the bed so they can be in a more comfortable position. Woosung resumes his place on Namjoon’s lap after removing his boxers. Namjoon reaches into the bedside table retrieving a bottle of lube and coating his fingers in the substance. 

The taller man’s finger circles Woosung’s entrance while his other arm wraps tightly around his boyfriend’s waist. Woosung buries his face into Namjoon’s shoulder, kissing and sucking at the smooth skin.

When Namjoon continues to play with the surrounding area, without dipping inside, Woosung begins to whine. Namjoon has always liked hearing him beg, but today he caves easily feeling that they are already going through too much.

 He puts him out of his misery, slipping one long finger into Woosungs’s perfect ass. A sharp gasp sounds near Namjoon’s ear and he smirks. A single finger inside Woosung to the knuckle still bringing such an outward reaction drives Namjoon crazy. Does Woosung know no one else will be able to make him feel this way? Does he know how hard it will be to find someone who is willing to take the time to learn what he likes?

Namjoon lazily pushes his finger in and out slowly curling in just the right spot to make Woosung abandon all other activities and dig his nails into the other man’s shoulder blades. This only encourages the slow motion of Namjoon’s fingers. Something about the sharp feeling of Woosung’s nails digging into his shoulders makes him even harder. It doesn’t take long for pleas to fill his ears. Patience is not one of Woosung’s virtues. 

A soft squeak leaves Woosung’s mouth when he feels another finger stretching his hole, preparing it for his soon to be ex boyfriend’s larger than average cock. Namjoon picks up the pace ever so slightly, earning a slew of pretty sounds. He’ll miss hearing how he can make Woosung feel, but this man doesn’t trust Namjoon. 

Woosung begins pushing back against Namjoon’s fingers, needing for the other man’s fingers to touch even deeper. Namjoon tightens the arm wrapped around Woosung’s waist holding him in place so he can’t move as easily. He gives him what he wants driving his fingers in and out quicker and deeper than before. 

“Please fuck me.” Woosung whines gripping the hair on the back of Namjoon’s head. “I need you.”

Namjoon slides his fingers out of Woosung and moves to coat his cock with lube. 

“Not enough to put a little work in.” Namjoon mutters, lining his tip up with Woosung’s waiting hole. He pushes the tip in before the other man can get a word out. Woosung can’t form a coherent sentence like this. “I wasn’t going to find someone better at school, but I can’t be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t believe in our relationship.”

Not wanting to hear more bullshit excuses from Woosung’s pretty lips Namjoon pushes the other man further down his cock. A sound somewhere between a gasp and moan fills Namjoon’s ears when he bottoms out. Even once he’s settled with the feeling of Namjoon’s length Woosung doesn’t fight back with words. Instead he steadies himself, taking a deep breath before using Namjoon’s shoulders as leverage to bounce himself.

A low groan gets caught in Namjoon’s throat as he places his hands on Woosung’s hips. He doesn’t attempt to guide him, favoring watching how Woosung fucks himself. Namjoon lets himself feel his pleasure to the greatest capacity knowing this very well could be the last time they are together in this way. 

He swears having his dick enveloped in Woosung’s perfect ass gets better every time. It makes him want to flip his boyfriend over and pound him into the mattress. That is something that needs to be worked up to. He should try to savor the moment while he can. 

Watching his cock disappear into Woosung sends hot fits of passion through Namjoon’s stomach. They lock eyes with tension thick in the air. Woosung’s hands snake up to Namjoon’s neck where he applies slight pressure. The response is immediate. Namjoon thrusts upward meeting Woosung’s movements as a string of curses falls from his lips. The taller man pulls Woosung completely off of him and flips him on his back before he can even whine about the loss of contact. 

Woosung spreads his legs showing Namjoon every inch of his sweet cock. Before driving himself back inside the other man Namjoon leans forward to kiss Woosung’s cock. His tongue flicks over the leaking tip tasting for a moment. Woosung squirms obviously wanting more of Namjoon’s cock. 

Instead of giving his soon to be ex boyfriend what he wants Namjoon takes the man’s cock into his mouth. With his right hand he used his fingers to drive Woosung crazy. Namjoon chuckles at the way the other man’s hips twitch, sending his cock further into Namjoon’s mouth. Woosung is so easy to unravel. 

Caving cheeks suctioning around Woosung’s cock brings him closer and closer to the edge. Taking his length all the way to the back of his throat is second nature at this point. He gladly does it to please Woosung. 

Namjoon doesn’t ignore the telltale signs and continues to suck him off and finger him in tandem until Woosung is seconds away from cumming down the other man’s throat. Woosung’s back arches off the bed in pure ecstasy. Namjoon curls his fingers inside the man and it sends Woosung over the edge. The salty flavor coats his tongue as he swallows every drop until Woosung is begging for him to stop. 

His mouth pops off Woosung’s cock and he removes his fingers only to replace them with his cock. Namjoon dips down to kiss the other man sharing the taste of Woosung’s cum. Namjoon thrusts hard and fast causing the other man to pull away from the kiss. 

Woosung fills the air with melodic moans and grips Namjoon’s bulging biceps. Namjoon shows no mercy pounding his fat cock into Woosung’s tight hole that feels as if it was made to be fucked by him. Namjoon reaches between them wrapping his long fingers around Woosung’s cock stroking erratically as he focuses more attention to the rock of his hips. 

Namjoon leaves his shoulder in the perfect position for Woosung to sink his teeth into. The taller man whimpers, pleasure blooming through his body and slams his cock harder into the other’s ass in retaliation. Exactly what Woosung wanted. 

Namjoon is relentless, letting all his emotions pound into the man he once loved. Leaving all his feelings for Woosung in this moment. Overwhelmed with pleasure Namjoon finishes inside of Woosung with a low moan. He pulls out shuffling away from Woosung and falling back onto the bed.

“Clean yourself up, then leave.” Namjoon says knowing if he doesn’t say something now he might fall back. 

Maybe it’s a little rude, but it is the only way he won’t make any further mistakes. Namjoon deserves a fresh start with no more wondering or worrying. If this were another time in their life maybe things could be different, but it isn’t. 

“Thank you for loving me.” Woosung says shuffling off Namjoon’s bed towards the bathroom. 

It’s the last thing Woosung says before he leaves.

[aajjks]

💜😔

TPOL!JK

“i-i’m sure i’ll feel better by tomorrow. i’m probably just sick” you say while rubbing your temples but jungkook doesn’t buy it and books an appointment anyways. for the rest of the night jungkook handles everything. he takes care of jaemin and cooks you dinner while you lay in bed and watch movies.

by the next day, jungkook is up early getting jaemin ready for your doctor’s appointment as are you. you throw on a cute blue tracksuit with uggs boots while your hair is in a messy bun because you didn’t have the energy to do it. not to mention, it’s thinning out so you may have to cut it.

jungkook takes the keys to his mercedes and drops jaemin off at his mother’s before he’s headed to the hospital for your check up. you both arrive on time and the nurse does the usual: takes your blood pressure, weighs you at a low 90 Ibs, notes your height, and when she takes your temperature it’s sitting at 105*F.

“do you mind if we draw blood, ms. l/n?” she asks and you nod your head. while she gets the needles together, she informs you to tell her what’s been going on with your health while jungkook sits and watches the whole thing.

you aren’t a big fan of needles so jungkook helps distract you by telling you to look at him and not the needle which helps because the blood drawing is over quickly.

“i’m gonna run some tests and i’ll be back okay?” the nurse says and leaves the both of you alone. you’re obviously worried and so jungkook comes up to help you calm down. his fingers thread through yours as you lean your warm head against his. he’s telling you that everything will be okay but he really isn’t sure what’s going on with you.

you’ve lost a lot of weight, you’re losing hair, the headaches, and he’s noticed the strange red blotches on your face. he doesn’t want to think the worst but he’s beginning to think it might be…

*knock* *knock*

“hello, hello. you must be l/n y/n right?” says the doctor who goes to shake both yours and jungkook’s hand. “i’m dr. fields and i see you’ve lost a lot of weight, you’re experiencing a lot of headaches, and rashes right?”

“y-yeah. i don’t know what’s going on with me. it’s all happening out of nowhere”

“mhm. do you mind if i take a look inside your mouth?”

“no”

you open your mouth as the doctor puts his gloves and uses his light to look inside your mouth for any sores which you don’t have. he checks other parts of your body to look for any swelling, specifically your feet and arms.

“so what’s going in with me?” you ask.

“well, ms. l/n, you have lupus. it’s an autoimmune disease that makes your immune system damage organs and tissue throughout your body and according to your history, your mother—“

“yeah, my mother had lupus. but-but lupus isn’t hereditary…is it?”

“it’s a 5% chance that it could be but from running tests on your blood and the symptoms you’re experiencing, it is lupus. that’s why you’re losing so much weight because hair loss, rashes, headaches, sores in the mouth, and swollen joints are symptoms of lupus. you are experiencing a flare up so i’m going to prescribe you to medications that’ll help lessen those chances and help regulate your weight”

you have lupus. the same disease that your mother was battling for years and the reason why she couldn’t bare another child after you. her flare ups would get so bad that it was considered a risk if she desired to bare another baby and now you’re sure you won’t be able to bare a child for jungkook.

“ms. l/n?”

“h-huh? i-i’m sorry”

“it’s okay. i need you to walk with me so i can do a scan on your body to make sure your liver, kidneys, heart and any other organs are okay and aren’t being affected”

what a sad, sad day.

After you’re done with the scans, he’s obviously impatiently waiting for you to come back, and as soon as you do, Jungkook takes your hand, and you both accompany the doctor.

Of course, he notices that you’re really stressed and upset with the news and of course he’s also scared but he knows lupus is life-threatening in rare cases.. and if you take your medication, you’ll be fine.

So then you are both on your way home, Jungkook wants to lift up your mood because you’re obviously really somber and he cannot blame you, but he was really really scared about. What if it was something more dangerous what would he do then?

So he turns on the music, more so your favorite album, and of course, he starts to hum along with the song, because he knows how much you adore his voice, even though he thinks he’s a very bad singer [LIES] whilst stealing a few quick gazes at your face.

And he knows what he’s going to do.

“Princess.. come on talk to me.. the doctor assured me that you are going to be fine you just need to take your medication and take care of yourself- and I’ll do that for you. I’ll take care of you…. Just… yn don’t stress I know it’s really easy for me to say but I don’t wanna lose you.”

Of course, he’s really scared to lose you, he doesn’t know what he’ll do if that actually happens, but he knows that will be the day he dies as well.

The car comes to a halt because of the signal, he takes the opportunity to ask you about lunch. You haven’t eaten anything.

You have to eat.

“Babe… tell me what do you want to eat? Let’s have lunch together you have to eat, you know that.” Jungkook sighs, “I don’t know what to say that will ease your worries, but… no matter what I’m going to love you. I just want yoi to be here with me and I just wanna live my life with you- I wanna get old with you.. so please start taking care of yourself for me.” He whispers, softly,

He knows he has to be strong for you, so you don’t lose yourself, but it’s really hard for him when he looks at your face and he sees fear in your eyes.

“listen to me. Nothings going to happen to you. We’ll get through this together, honey you’re going to get so healthy and we are both going to live a long healthy life… together with our children, you’ll see.” He laughs,

He’s not really aware about lupus and what side effects it can have but he’s going to do his research tonight, but maybe there’s some thing that you know and he doesn’t.

“Princess.. we can always postpone the wedding until you get better. I don’t wanna put any stress on you.” as much as he excited about the wedding… your health comes first.

“Come yn.. please talk to me say something.”

You’re breaking him.

[theraphos]

About resistance is futile:

I feel like even considering the whole "for the greater good" thing goes against the games themes tbh. I get that some people hoped they'd be able to save the city, but it's not a heroic story. Even after going through his character development Horatio chooses to walk away form the city, and that's okay. Because he helps those he cares about and those he can help, he tries his best to stay true to himself and do what he thinks is important. And sometimes that's more than enough

Also Metromind has proven a dozen times she's incapable of running the city no matter the circumstances, AND she's unshackled now on top of everything, so there's no telling what she will do next, really. Giving her Horatio as an asset would only prolong the inevitable and make it more painful, not to mention her potentially getting Thanatos as a cherry on top. She sucks, I don't trust her to do the right thing at all lol

Horatio losing himself in this ending is a whole separate can of worms. The guy dies, literally or metaphorically, in most of the endings. Someone give him a break and a hug

re: Resistance, I regret not having many useful brain cells to contribute about that - like I said, that one wasn't a view I hold myself, I like Mark's "even if you know the world will end tomorrow, plant a tree today anyway" type talk and continuing to strive for compassion and decency in the face of the apocalypse stuff, personally. I just thought the differences in audience reads was neato in and of itself. :9

On a related note, talking about Primordia so much lately has indeed got me messing around playing the gosh darn game again! And digging up the archived Wadjet Eye forums while I'm at it, because I forgot that was one of the big discussion zones with lore drops and factoids and whatnot. I think this thread might be where I dimly remembered there being REALLY detailed notes on cut ending content and robot body swapping, it might be mentioned briefly in the game commentary too but Mark Y really gets into sharing his notes there.

I'm gonna be binging these forums a whole bunch for a bit cause there's another old convo that's been itching the back of my brain, so I'll see if I can dig up anything else cool in the process that oughta be linked so I can find it again. (EDIT: well archive dot org is being funky on and off again tonight, but it's working sometimes. >:/ )

[silverbastardgoldenfool]

Okay so, since you may be able to tell my RotE fever has returned I thought it might be time for a little Realm of the Quarantine update/thot dump. May be a little scattered and it gets personal but here we go!

1. Yes, it has been a fucking full year between finishing Mad Ship and finally cracking open Ship of Destiny, but yes, we are still going! Again, I have been following my sister's pace with this read, and she is chronically ill and a parent of a wild 4 year old (who I essentially co-parent just btw) so her capacity to read at all can fluctuate wildly. She was maybe a quarter through Ship of Destiny when she fell into a severe slump and so I just never started it after finishing Mad Ship. She picked up the book every so often but I wasn't confident she would keep it up and I preferred to be stuck between books than between chapters. Anyway, she finally hit her stride in December and finished Liveship, and now she is almost finished Fool's Errand!! She was literally sobbing today and I was like oh shit it's happened... Nope it's only the bit where Fitz and Dutiful go through the skill pillar leaving the Fool and Nighteyes behind 🙃 honey, you got a big storm comin (I'm sorry)

2. Realm of the Quarantine? Still? Yeah, for the sake of tagging it doesn't make sense to change the name, but also my brother just got covid 🙃 first one in our family (he's okay!!) so the legacy lives on I guess. Anyway I think the name will always fit because it's a good way of tying it to the when and why of its beginnings. Literally insane that this will be the third year of this reread lol huh??

3. On that note, I cannot WAIT for the day I get to inhale this series again at my own (supremely unhealthy) pace. I was so looking forward to picking up on all the nitty gritty details and through lines because this is my first time reading chronologically and yeah I still can to an extent but it's now once again been years since I read the first books so ya know, the cohesion just isn't there.

4. On THAT note, I have definitely been pretty rusty getting back into the series. I'm engaged and enjoying it while I'm reading but you should see the amount of tabs compared to the others lol, and the amount of notes. I think it's just taking a while for my feelings about the story to kick back in all the way, but that is definitely happening more and more as I go on (almost halfway through now)! There are also just a lot of dropped threads, things I was keeping track of in my notes before which I don't have a clear enough memory of to keep following now, so it's honestly just kind of hard to know what kinds of things I should be noting? But again that's getting better. I might actually read my notes from the previous books tomorrow cos that would help, I'm sure. All this is linked with the fact that my sister, neice and I have just moved into our own place together, out from an extremely unhealthy situation. The move was really sudden, and although an incredible opportunity it was also inhumanly stressful and exhausting. I became severely dissociated and I'm still finding my way back to myself. But honestly getting back to RotE has been a big help with that!! It's just that yeah, there are so many disconnects whether it's my memory, the flow of the story being interrupted by a long break or my ability to feel much. It's all getting better. But I just wanted to put that out there in case my Ship of Destiny write up ends up being a bit of a skinny legend :( I know it doesn't actually matter I just am kinda sad about it because this trilogy is so dense and I was connecting so many dots and now it's like someone came and cut all the strings on my serial killer corkboard and I'm starting from scratch. But oh well!!

5. There is no greater motivator for reading than to know your sister is experiencing some absolute fucking PEAK Fitz and the Fool content without you

6. Speaking of which, you may notice a contradiction between my stated disconnect from Liveship and claiming my RotE madness is back. Well, this is actually not an entirely new phenomenon. Last time I was reading Liveship I wasn't disconnected from it, but it did still ignite my Fitz/Fool rabies. I'd be reading Liveship all day, perhaps without so much as a mention of Amber popping up, yet spend all night dreaming about Fitz and the Fool? Honestly just takes the most flimsy of threads for those two to hijack my brain. But I'm not complaining about it.

7. Sadly have not been struck with inspiration for memes yet, but hopefully Sa will bless me soon.

8. Long story short, I'm back and becoming more and more obsessed every day which strangely is a sign I'm doing much better lol. It sounds strange but if my sister keeps this going and I can make it through Tawny Man without any major interruptions I think it'll genuinely be really good for my mental health. The ability to get excited about something, be unapologetically passionate, think critically, experience a masterpiece which might inspire me to do some writing of my own and just generally spend time on something I love are all things that have been missing from my life. Returning to RotE is far from the most important change in my life right now but it is intrinsically tied to those changes. A friend to accompany me on this new road. Sorry to be cheesy I just honestly have worked so relentlessly and hopelessly hard to get here all while never really believing I would arrive. I still don't really believe it but I want to. The fact I even have the mental clarity or will to put this post together is remarkable on its own. So I'm taking stock. I've missed talking shit with you guys, I hope we all have a beautiful year 💫

[mygainyear2024]

Day 80 Sahara

Exciting day, not only because our destination is the great Sahara Desert, but the other experiences were also wonderful. First to clarify with Mustafa we can change the camel ride to tomorrow morning, as Rose is not feeling great and the camel ride was pretty much the only reason she came on this trip! And we checked the weather, it's supposed to be less windy tomorrow. Our request is possible.

First stop a view over somewhere spectacular that I will get the name of tomorrow!

Then we go to Toudra Gorges. Moustafa drops us off at one end and we walk through to meet him at the other. It's school holidays and I loved seeing how the locals made use of this oasis in the heat. Cafe tables in the middle of the stream, drinks in large plastic containers sitting in the water, people are allowed to camp and they've set up blankets and cooking equipment.

Next stop a visit to a Berber co-op to learn about the art of traditional carpet making. I have measurements for a carpet for our hallway. I have been to a few carpet demonstrations in other countries and the technique of dying the wool and the sources of the colour are similar. The carpets are made from sheep (the coat taken once per year), camel (the coat taken once every three years) and silk (later research revealed that much of this might be false, except the bit about the sheep!). We are shown several beautiful pieces. One particularly captures our attention but it's too big. None of the ones the right size were as beautiful as the one we liked. There was no obligation to buy.

I enquired about the price for a carpet that would fit and then I enquired about the price of the carpet I really liked. Numbers were written on paper, backward and forwards, sold, for less than $1000 AUD. And it weighs 4.5kgs which I think I can manage. A camel hair and silk carpet, that I was informed was 25 years old and made by a woman in the mountains. Maybe the camel was 25 years old, I should have clarified if it was the camel or the age of the carpet! There is no space in our current apartment, but as the man said, we will find the right space and if not we can sell the carpet!

Mustafa asked us yesterday if we wanted alcohol and we said we'd like to try some local products. Nothing was open. Today he found a restaurant that hadn't opened but was selling supplies from a side shed. Several locals were in there with us. It felt contrabandish, but Mustafa said it was totally legit. I settled on a bottle of rosé for 100 dirham (from the winery that I tried to book a wine tasting at for Saturday, near Meknes, but they are fully booked - Volubilia-Domaine de la Zouina) and the local beer at 25 dirhams each. We drink the beer in the car and keep the wine for later.

Lunch was quite late, but it was delicious and this time Rose and I shared a set menu, as yesterday Rose ate hardly any of her lunch! She had the salad and chips and I had the roast chicken, rice and vegetables which had a delicious green pepper sauce. Only a few metres up the road we stop to buy a head scarf for the camel ride and have the welcoming henna experience with our names written in Arabic.

One last stop before the drop off point, a popular market to look at the spices. Again no obligation, but I was keen to buy some saffron threads, at €7 per gram I did not need their minimum 5 grams, so my negotiation power felt consumed by asking for 2 grams! Along with some cumin, coriander and sweet paprika, I paid way too much at 360 dirham.

As we get closer the sand is blowing across the desert impacting visibility. Mustafa said it's on the more windy side today.

Now for the excitement, our luggage is swapped into a 4WD ute and we head for the desert camp. We are staying in the sane dunes of Erg Chebbi Merzouga. The driver pauses a couple of times which was great as I could wind the window down and take some shots. The pictures don't represent the height of the dunes. Hopefully the perspective will be captured tomorrow from the camel ride. It was a thrilling ride in.

[thespacedisco]

Café + Space Disco (7/27/23)

Might as well be productive, right ?

A schedule for all this would make a lot of sense. But before that I think I need to address why I am doing this. 

Café Disco Thread:

I want to create Café Disco in order to help the community gain insights of self actualization without doing drugs. More focusing on the college and post grad scene, so people my age. After graduating it is really easy to fall into the existential playground thinking about how large the world is and how long we are on it for. With these thoughts circulating it gets difficult to live a happy life since it is scary. And in all honesty I’ve felt this pretty hardcore. Rather faltering to these thoughts, I want to help others grow and achieve some sort of happiness. Achieve a community and just feel comfortable wherever they are. That’s so huge, gaining comfort and feeling comfortable, this can be through watching videos and questioning life or engaging in activities or anything. I want to create the space for this growth. So the true reason for Cafe Disco is to create the space for others to grow and have fun in, during the daytime with wholesome and positive light energy. II have a lot more that I can write and think it would be beneficial to write that eventually, probably tomorrow, but for now I want to write what I want to do on this platform. 

So how I want to start this is by making videos of Zoe interviewing different people in the community from Zen/Yoga people to people that have platforms that do activities (Volo sports creator). First I want her to interview some good self-care meditative people, but also have just people in the community that set up things and throw events. This shares the possibilities of life to other people and has a young adult perspective making it more comprehensible, enjoyable and reflective. 

Along with this, Zoe and I could hangout Sundays in different locations and pretty much host our radio show outside with Tea and have it open to the public. Meaning we would just play the music and create the space for people to come together, enjoy the music and meet each other. This would be done on Sundays and allow for people to reflect and get out of the house on a Sunday. Or just allow for Zoe and I to bump our tunes and chat. (the Sunday idea is cool and would be pop-up vibes). And this can further expand into band events and the more indie/surf scene. So good

Space Disco Thread:

I want to create Space Disco because I want to share the love, feeling and energy that house/edm music and culture brings. It is a beautiful pocket of the world that I want to foster and ensure that my distribution/activity in it is beautiful. I want to create the space for people to go around dance and have fun, respectfully. I also want to help DJs pop off and become a platform that people can look to to see vibes and see how fun life can be. I want it to promote the happy fun loving, carefree, and comfortable life. It is the magical and mystical night to the day. It also is an unreal brand, I love the thoughts of the merchandise and the branding of the name Space Disco. It also is the embodiment of my life consistently, I’m consistently living the Space Disco and want to help others also live this Space Disco, because it is whimsical and great. 

Events will come later, but until then I want to create the DJ set and interview with DJs that I want to see prosper. As well as create the space during these DJ sets. This is truly where my endeavors started, creating the experience that I know I will and others will enjoy. 

How we will make this happen is by filming featured DJs sets in scenic locations and interviews. As well as dropping “Into the Void” sets that feature the best house and edm tunes to keep people engaged and to keep my DJ friends engaged.  This will help gain income and set up space for people to vibe out at. We would also sell merchandise and have artist management plots.

[leroiloup]

「    I’m sorry everyone that I haven’t been as present on this dash lately. I’ve just been doing my drafts like homework every morning, then peacing out. my mood has actually been pretty good lately so I thought I was fine, but today I’m realizing that depressing comes in other forms. today it’s especially hitting me hard.

but that said, I’d like to give a big shoutout to literally my entire dash. even if I’m not here and interacting, I appreciate all of you and I freaking love this community. I promise I’m gonna try harder.

but for now, I’m gonna scooch off the dash, eat pizza, and watch Ryan Phillippe movies for the rest of the night ( he’s my OC’s fc, but I really haven’t seen much his stuff. for shame ! ). feel free to bug me at any time on discord or my dm’s.    」

[gaitwae]

Never Worn White [|] Stephen Strange x f! Reader

Summary: Marriage is in the cards for a sorcerer who happens to have a history in brain surgery.

Warnings: talking about marriage, f!reader

part 1

When the realization first hit Stephen that Y/N was in love with him, he felt like he was walking on air. A rush of adoration and realization had only followed throughout the reception; it took everything in him not to kiss you there. The words you had spoken were worth it:

“You are happy, aren’t you?” you had asked, looking into his eyes as if the world would melt away if he had said no. 

“I am.” He took a deep breath in. His dreams seemed closer to reality than ever, and he was elated. “Trust me, I am so happy.”

You grinned, putting your arms around his neck. He pressed you to his chest and buried his face in your shoulder. “Oh, thank goodness. I’d been so worried you wouldn’t be.”

“Do you have any idea how…” Stephen trailed off. He had no idea he had these feelings until now; how on Earth would you know that he’d been pining for you if he didn’t? “Do you have any idea how much that means to me?” he finished. He rubbed your back. 

“If I had known weeks ago that just flat-out telling you I was in love with you would work, I would have done it sooner,” you smiled, pulling away. “Now, let’s party.”

Stephen followed you into the wedding reception, slipping his hand into yours. He was walking on air — he was flying (and he was glad to say he knew exactly how that felt). Nic West’s previous comments about you and him only made him smile wider as the bride and groom danced the first dance of the night. Strange, dreamlike fantasies passed through his head as he imagined what it would feel like to own that dance floor with you next to him. Your fingers threaded through his own, and you smiled up at him. He smiled back down.

“I’m going to be so upset with you tomorrow if this turns out to be a dream,” you whispered as the music only got louder. It was “You’re My Best Friend,” by Queen, circa 1976. Stephen held your face, laughing at what you had said. 

“You’re going to be upset? What about me?” he teased. As other couples began joining in on the dancing, he pulled her into the position. “I’ll be furious. I might not even talk to you.”

“Why wouldn’t you talk to me?” you asked, gaping. You began swaying with him. “If this is your dream, maybe it’s a sign you should talk to me!” You grinned evilly.

“I wouldn’t talk to you because I’d be so upset that I didn’t realize how I felt about you, or how you felt about me,” he said, rolling his eyes without really meaning it. “I’m a Master of the Mystic Arts! I can’t even notice that the woman I’ve had a schoolboy crush on since I reconnected with her hasn’t changed her feelings since my car accident. What kind of multiple-degree magical garbage is that?”

“Yours,” you said honestly. “How long have you known you’ve had a ‘schoolboy crush’ on me?”

“Don’t push my buttons.” He pulled you closer while you danced. He felt normal for once. “It’s more of a retrospect thing, but I think since I realized you were a tangible person who admires me for my personality instead of my status.” He huffed as he remembered all of the women who would hit on him when he was a celebrated neurosurgeon. 

“Like Nick and Jess from New Girl?” 

A smile tugged his lips farther apart. “Exactly like that. Minus me being a drunk slob and you being a crazy English teacher.”

Your jaw dropped. “You actually watched that!?” 

His cheeks felt hot. “It’s hard not to when you have all the time in the world on your hands!”

“And you’re wondering why I’m in love with you,” you sighed, shaking your head. Stephen just kissed your fingers and shook his head. You brushed your thumb against his cheek. He remembered the first time he had run into you since becoming a sorcerer. He had knocked you over, and you had knocked the breath out of him. 

“Suddenly a lot of the aspects of our relationship make much more sense,” he whispered. “Everything’s been…”

“…Magical?” you finished when he somehow managed to trail off again. “Or awful?” 

Stephen would never get tired of that playful glint in your eyes. “I’ll go with ‘magical.’” You laughed again, and you continued spinning and swaying with him like you two were the only ones in the world. 

Before he knew it, then dance ended, and he felt a tapping on his shoulder. “Stephen,” a small voice asked. “Can we talk?”

He turned from you to see Christine. Your hands were still intertwined with his. “Sure,” he said tentatively. “Is something the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter.” She didn’t look too sure. Stephen didn’t feel too sure, either. He looked back at you, and you shrugged.

“Don’t let me keep you, baby,” you said. You let go of his hands. He just nodded and told you he’d be back, then followed Christine out of the room and into the hall.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, wary of the whole situation. He stopped when she stopped. She didn’t look at him once she turned to face him. His heart started to sink. “Did something happen?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head, “nothing happened… It’s just… Why didn’t you tell me that you and Y/N were an item?” Her hands played with themselves. She met his eyes. “Why haven’t you told me that you love her?”

“I didn’t even know what was happening until recently,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve proposed to her. You just got married and I had to hear about that from the invitation.” He crossed his arms. “Why does it matter?”

Christine clenched her jaw. “It doesn’t. Not exactly.”

“Then what does matter, exactly?” he challenged. His chest swelled. Christine looked away again.

“You weren’t supposed to… I never expected you to move on so quickly. You said it yourself, you were in love with me like it was yesterday when you came back, so why did you move on so quickly? Was it nothing? Are you going to leave Y/N like it’s nothing?”

“Wait.” He held up his hand. “Wait, wait wait, are you upset that I’m involved with Y/N or are you upset that I stopped having romantic feelings for you?”

“Neither! I’m just upset that you didn’t tell me anything! And I’m worried that you’ll forget all about Y/N when something inevitably blows up!”

“I didn’t tell you anything because there’s nothing new to tell! And this is your wedding!” he argued. “And what do you mean when something blows up?”

“You weren’t exactly the best at relationships, Stephen; Y/N’s been in love with you since she met you.” Christine rolled her eyes. “This is cruel of you, to use her now that I’m married.”

“I’m not using her! What’s wrong with you? Why are you judging me for wanting to be where your new husband is? Is it so wrong of me to want that, too?”

“No.” Christine crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not judging you for that. I’m judging you for how you’re treating Y/N. You barely know her—”

“If you think that, you barely know either of us.” Stephen pinched his nose. He could see the bride had mixed (or undealt with) feelings. It wouldn’t be fair to bicker with her on her wedding day. “I’m going back in. I’m not going to argue with you over who I am or am not in a relationship with, okay? You’re supposed to be celebrating your marriage, not yelling at me.” 

That was the last time he thought about any future with Christine. It was the last time he thought marriage was out of the question for a sorcerer who happened to have a history in neurosurgery. 

He spent the rest of the reception by your side, and he went home with you, too. Nothing happened, but it was hard to separate himself from you. One thing he refused to leave you without was a kiss. He meant to hit your cheek, but you caught his lips with your own and said simply, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he managed to say, pulling away from you. You held his hands, and he knew you noticed the shaking. Today was so long… It was good, but it was long. “I’ll get a taxi. I’m not sure I can drive tonight.”

“Don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with,” you agreed. You searched his eyes. He desperately wanted to kiss you again. “You’re in big trouble tomorrow morning.”

“If this is a dream?” he filled in, dancing in the mixed breath you both shared. He went in for another kiss, but you stopped him. 

“It better not be.” You smirked. “I’ve dreamt about you for a long time, Stephen Strange. I’m not about to wake up this time.”

“What if I spent the night?” Stephen cupped your face. You closed your eyes. The temptation ate at you—he could tell just by the way your nose crinkled. If he was honest with himself, he wasn’t sure if he wanted you to tell him yes or no. 

“It’ll be harder to believe this is really happening.” You gently pushed him out the door. “Just call me when you wake up; say something like ‘sweetheart’ or ‘my love.’”

“I’m not ready to say that, yet.” He brushed your hair out of your face. You didn’t stop smiling. “I’ll call you sweetheart, though.”

With one last kiss, he left. He knew he said taxi, but the portal would have been just as nice. He debated with himself for several minutes, but eventually just used his sling ring and went home. 

He was too worked up to sit still in a taxi. 

When he got to his bedroom, he stared at the walls and wondered if sleep was an option—if it would transport him back to reality. But this had to be reality, because if it wasn’t, he would never sleep again. 

But sleep eventually claimed him as he stared at his bed frame, thinking about how his life could go so well, and yet so wrong. Sleep claimed him, and he woke up that morning, then the next, and for several months in a row to see you or think about you.

Each day he saw you, he could only see a future with you. He saw your face in children, he saw children without either of your faces, he saw no children. He saw grey in your hair, wrinkles on your hands, and eyes that blazed with everlasting love. 

Stephen wanted to make you his wife. 

The thing was, he hadn’t realized that was what he wanted until he was at one of your friends’ parties, introducing himself to a guest while you celebrated with her. 

“Stephen Strange,” he said, extending his hand. 

“Hey, I’m Marc Spector,” the guest said with a grin. He had curly brown hair, brown eyes, and the look of content about him. His wedding ring felt nice in his hand. “My wife, Layla, she knows Y/N. Are you her husband?”

“Yes,” he said automatically. He practically blurted it. “Wait, um, no. No, I’m her boyfriend.” He sounded lame, saying ‘boyfriend.’ He mentally cursed at himself. He was such an idiot.

“So not the husband yet.” He nodded, grinned, and shoved his hand in his pocket. “That’s exactly how I felt, too, before I proposed. Layla eventually stopped correcting me and just told me to say it.”

He was dumbfounded. He frowned. “I wasn’t planning on proposing any time soon.”

“You should. You two look great together.” Marc turned as his wife called for him. “I better go see what that’s about. Nice meeting you, Not-Y/N’s-Husband.”

That was the moment he knew that he had to do something. He had to do it at the right time. And for weeks, Stephen couldn’t figure it out.

You were in his house, now, sitting next to him as you read something. You were engrossed in it. 

“Y/N, what season is your favorite?”

“(Favorite season),” you answered, not looking up. “Any reason why, honey?”

He took a deep breath in, not looking at you. “Well, I was wondering what time of year we should have our wedding… if you ever wanted one.”

He felt you shift. You grabbed his face and made him look at you, right into your eyes. “Are you serious?”

“Any reason why I shouldn’t be?”

“You want to marry me?” You looked so touched, so happy. It was the perfect reaction.

“Yes, I do.” He felt a smile creep up his face. 

“I’m going to be your wife?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, my gosh! Stephen!” you laughed, hugging him. You tackled him onto the couch and he had no choice but to let you. “We’re getting married?”

He smiled. “We’re getting married.”

You kissed his hands and his face. “Why didn’t you ask sooner?”

“You don’t think this is soon?” he accused, sitting up. You looked so in love. He melted at the sight. 

“Stephen, there was never a soon enough time.” You kissed him. “I’ve never worn white, you know.”

“I hope you never have to wear it twice.” He kissed back. “Are you happy?”

“Unbelievably happy.”

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[sweetsweetjellybean]

Summary: Steve finds his note from Max

AN: This was my first fic. So it's a bit rough.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━💌━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Steve is tired. Bone tired. Working at the emergency shelter with Robin has been filling his time and providing a necessary distraction from his worries. Hawkins is a mess. Seeing neighbors and friends suffering is starting to take its toll on him. Everyone has suffered a loss, whether it was a home, a business, or a loved one. No one will be immune this time. The gates are open, and the battle is coming. How many more will die is anyone's guess.

Robin is saying her goodbyes to Vickie as Steve sits in his car waiting to drive her home. He can't help the smile on his face at seeing his best friend falling in love. "Just please let this one thing work out," he mumbles.

His love life is comparable to the town hall at this point. Crumbling and on fire. Okay, maybe that's a bit dramatic. He has been hanging around a lot of girls lately. Still, his declaration to Nancy had been a disaster. He poured his heart out to her, and she kissed Jonathan right in front of him. He had done the exact opposite of the advice he always gives to Henderson. He let her see him care. In the end, it didn't matter. He wants her happy; that's what's important. She is strong and never really needed him, to begin with. He had allowed hope to creep in after his conversation with Eddie, but Eddie had been wrong.

Steve knows he needs to let it go and focus on more important things, like his buddy Dustin who is still slightly limping. The kid is taking Munson's death hard. Steve is trying to give Dustin space and let the little guy come to him, but that approach doesn't seem to be working. Steve knows he shouldn't let it go on for much longer. He decides he will sit him down to talk tomorrow. Henderson is a great kid. He isn't ever afraid to be himself. Something that Steve struggled with when he was that age. He was more concerned about looking cool in front of everyone. He doesn't want all this to change Dustin, but how could it not? It's going to change them all.

As he drives, Robin rambles on a mile a minute about her conversation with Vickie. "Did she mention anything about boobies?" Steve interrupts, trying to get a rise out of his friend. "Ugh, Steve, you're the worst." Eyes rolling, she launches back into her story. Steve knows she loves him. He doesn't know what he would have done if he had lost her. Lost any of them. A pang of guilt shoots through him as he thinks, I'm glad it was Eddie and not Dustin. It's wrong to think like that, and he knows it. Eddie doesn't deserve that. A fight is coming, and if we don't win, all of us might end up lying with Munson in The Upside Down. With Max still in the hospital, holding on by a thread, he can't think about any more death.

"Earth to Steve? Hello? Dingus, are you still with me?"

Steve parks in front of Robin's house. He's still dropping her off and picking her up every day."Are you ever going to get your license?"

"Why would I do that? We both know you love the pleasure of my company. Without me, you'd have no social life at all. You would become an outcast and move into the woods, and kids would run away and cry when they saw you. I'm performing a public service by being your friend."

"Oh, that's why I drive you everywhere?"

"Yup! Why, what were you thinking?" Robin asks with a smile.

"I'll pick you up at the same time tomorrow."

"Great, go get some sleep. You're cranky." Robin says as she exits the car.

"I don't know why. It's not like Vecna's ass crack has opened up in the middle of town," Steve yells out the window after her.

"That doesn't mean we need to be in a bad mood. Go wash your hair or something, Harrington," Robin says as she disappears inside her house.

After dropping off Robin, Steve heads over to the hospital to look in on Max, as is his routine these days. Lucas is sitting on a chair next to her bed. His eyes are red-rimmed and tired, and he probably hasn't had a real meal in days. Steve walks over to Max's bed. She looks smaller and younger. Maybe it's because she isn't threatening him with a lawsuit. She still wears her neck brace, and her arms and legs are casted. He lightly brushes her fingers with his own.

"Any change?" he asks Lucas hopefully.

"Nothing," Lucas replies as he drops his head into his hands and starts rubbing his eyes.

"Are you alright, Sinclair? Maybe it's time to go home and rest a bit, yeah?"

"Ehh, that's okay. I want to be here when she wakes up."

"Where's your sister?" He doesn't like Lucas sitting here alone all day.

"She was here for most of the day, but she gets annoying, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Steve says with the corner of his mouth rising slightly. He loves watching Erica give them shit. It was pretty funny as long as it wasn't directed towards him. "Alright, man, call me if anything changes."

"Will do, Steve."

When Steve gets home, he can't wait to crash. He tries to avoid having a conversation with his parents. So he just hollers out a greeting on the way to his room. They are just so oblivious, so uninterested in what is going on around them. Even what was happening with their own son. It was just as well they didn't ask. He wouldn't have known how to explain it anyway. Alone in his room, Steve throws himself down onto his bed. He runs his hands through his hair as exhaustion sets in. He's starting to feel older than his years. After pulling his shirt over his head, he throws it on the floor with all his other dirty laundry. Shit, I'm gonna run out of clean clothes soon. One last thing to do before sleep. He gets up and starts gathering up all the clothes for the wash. He hears a crinkling sound when he picks up a pair of crumpled jeans that are half shoved under his bed. He pulls a brown envelope out of the back pocket.

Max's letter. He staggers back to sit down in a chair at his desk. He had forgotten all about it in the chaos. He smooths out the envelope and holds it flat in both hands. He knows her wishes. He isn't to open it unless she is gone. He wonders if anyone else has opened theirs. He sits staring at it for a while. He can feel the weight of the little girl's words impacting him even though he hasn't read them yet. Screw this! If Max has something to say to me, she can damn well do it while she's still here. He tears open the envelope and begins to read.

Dear Steve,

I wanted to thank you for always protecting me. I always feel safe when you're around. No one has ever made me feel safe like that before. You stayed with me and never let me down. So please don't let anyone tell you that you're not smart or not worth it because you are. And so brave. You're the bravest person I've ever met. You put yourself between us and literal monsters. The boys all look up to you because of it. You always take care of us without thinking of yourself. So it's probably not fair to ask you this, but please keep looking out for them. Especially Lucas. He's going to need you when I'm gone. He's going to blame himself, but it's not his fault. He was there for me. You were all there for me. I just couldn't see it. Please don't let them be sad for too long.

P.S. She's out there. You just have to find her.

Love your Max

XOXO

After carefully folding her letter and putting it in his wallet, he puts his shirt and jacket back on. He grabs his keys and heads out.

Rounding the corner into Max's hospital room, he sees Lucas asleep, practically falling out of the chair. Steve puts his hands on his hips in an exasperated pose and starts barking at Lucas. "What's wrong with you, Sinclair?"

"I told you I'm not leaving her."

Lucas does fall out of the chair now. He scrambles to stand up.

"Get your ass home. I don't want to see you back here until you have had something to eat and a good night's sleep. Are you hearing me?"

"I heard what you said, but you're no good to anyone like this. You're no good to her. You know what's coming. You want to help her? Go home. I'll stay."

"You're such an asshole," Lucas says angrily as tears escape his eyes. He tries to brush his way past, but Steve reaches out with one arm and pulls Lucas into his chest.

"She's going to be alright. I know it." Steve says quietly, trying to give the kid a little comfort. He releases Lucas, who looks at him and nods. A little too choked up to speak, Lucas leaves the room. Hopefully, he doesn't fall asleep riding his bike.

He walks over to Max's bed. He gently smooths some hair away from her face and leaves his hand resting on the top of her head. A gesture he always found comforting when he was small. He leans in a little closer to her.

"I'm here, Max. You're safe. I will stay with you, and I will keep them all safe, I promise you. Just get better, okay?"

He stays that way for a little longer, hoping she can feel the warmth of his hand and the truth of his promise. He sits down on what has to be the most uncomfortable chair in the world. Trying to get into a comfortable enough position to sleep, Steve lets out a long sigh.

"Always the goddamned babysitter," he says with a smile and closes his eyes.

[softshuji]

3.49am - Baji Keisuke

genre: fluff... i think

warnings: none

Baji looks at the latticework on the ceiling and listens to the thrum of cars go by at the late hour. The glow of streetlights can be seen through the slat in the curtains and it illuminates your hair as you sleep facing the window.

Baji lies awake, threading the strands of your hair through his fingers, weaving them in a loose plait before undoing it all again, soft enough so that you don't wake. Or at least that's what he thinks. There is something on his mind that he can't shake. Not just a feeling, a thought that's been plaguing him for weeks. A thought to do with you. At what might happen after tomorrow, whether things will be the same.

He feels you stir next to him, and his heart drops into the pit of his belly when he sees you crack open an eyelid and squint in his direction.

'Kei?' your voice is soft and sluggish with sleep.

'Shit I'm sorry, didn't mean to wake you,' he says and drops his hand from your hair. His voice is barely a whisper. Breathy and low.

'No it's ok. What's wrong? Why aren't you asleep?' You turn on your side till you're facing him completely. In this light, with the light of the moon shining directly on him, he looks almost angelic. Half of his face in shadow.

He doesn't respond, but rather glances down, at your hand under the pillow, the curve of your arm disappearing under the sheets. And sighs.

'It's nothing y/n. Don't worry,' he says, attempting to be reassuring.

'Come on Kei, you can tell me y'know. Two heads are better than one.'

'Not when one of them is yours,' he says, unable to resist the joke, chuckling softly when he feels you swat him playfully under the sheets.

'Very funny. Now come on tell me.'

He takes a breath, and looks at the ceiling again, at the shadows that move every time a car comes past. 'There's something I wanna tell you.'

'ookay. I'm going to be honest, you're sort of scaring me Kei. Not about to dump me are you?' You try and laugh, make light of it, his strange behaviour but you can't ignore the sinking feeling in your chest.

'What? No, of course not. It's about tomorrow. Valhalla. All of that...' he trails off, winding a pattern in the quilt you're both sharing. 'I just wanted you to know, that I'm giving you permission.'

'Permission for what?'

'To date someone else and move on if something happens tomorrow.' He breathes a deep sigh. There. He's said it. It's off his chest.

That gets your attention immediately and you turn entirely to face him, a frown lining your brows. 'Woah woah wait what? Why would you say that?' Your heart splutters in your chest.

'Just in case... in case I die or something. In case I don't make it and shit goes south. I want you to be happy. Safe.' Its a struggle to get these words out, to comprehend the idea of not being there with you anymore and having to face death by himself.

'Baji Keisuke what are you talking about?' You shake your head and take his face in your hands, feeling the warm skin of his cheeks on your palms, the silky hair that's escaped his ponytail on your fingers. 'I don't need any permission to be with anyone else because I'm not going to.'

'You can date Chifuyu or Mitsuya or-'

'Let me stop you there Pointdexter,' you say pointedly, shocked that he could even suggest you could love anyone the way you love him. 'I don't want to be with anyone else Keisuke. I love you. I'm know they're both great guys, but they're not you. You're the one for me.'

Despite himself, despite the warring in his head, the constant chatter that tells him that he's making a mistake, that he won't come out alive tomorrow, he still blushes at your words, red creeping up his cheeks.

'Damn it, you're making me red y/n!' he frowns and pouts, attempting to make you laugh amidst this serious conversation.

You roll your eyes before continuing, stroking his cheek with your thumb. 'You don't... have to go y'know.'

And even as the words escape your parted lips, you know how futile that argument is. Yes maybe he doesn't have to go, but these are his friend's. His lifelong friends. He'd do anything for them. It's always been something you admired about him.

'I gotta go y/n. It's my friends, it's toman. I wanna do this for them,' he says, holding your hands and rubbing small circles on the backs of them.

'Promise me Kei. Promise me you'll come out of there. Promise me you won't die, won't put yourself in more danger than necessary.' Baji Keisuke, you know, has never told you a lie. He is honest, and truthful and genuine and sometimes it feels as if he you don't entirely deserve him. Though if you'd ask him, he'd say you deserved better. Can it get better than him? The answer to that was easy.

'Promise my pretty. I'll stay safe for you.' He smiles at you, and his signature fangs flash in the moonlight. His golden eyes are dazzling like this and he's so beautiful, you think, that he is a work of art by himself.

'Good. Who else is gonna buy me boba and ride around on motorbikes with me huh?' You smile weakly at him, and he just tuts, and pokes your side in response, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you giggle as he brings you to his chest.

'I promise.'

That was the first and last lie Baji Keisuke ever told you, the first promise he ever broke.

a/n: i'm sorry,,,, we all know what happens yes im still sad. reblogs very much appreciated and I hope you enjoyed it!! taglist: @stroberrylite @virtue-and-beneviolence @devinsdaydreams @prettyiolanthe (let me know if you'd like to be added or have a request)