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hwashotcheeto · 10 months ago

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𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅'𝒔 𝑴𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 (1)

Best Friend's Mother Masterlist

Chapter: One

Milf!Park Seonghwa X gn!reader

Summary: You finally meet Wooyoung's father, and he isn't who you were expecting at all.

WC: 3.3k

CW: Mostly more plot/character development, but suggestive at the end (teasing, flirting). Wooyoung is a brat (no one is surprised), Seonghwa uses pet names on the reader (darling, dear, (little) doll)

AN: Ahhh, here we go, first official chapter! There's no smut just yet BUT the next chapter will be, promise! I hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @hyunjinsjeans

You let out a huge sigh of relief as you submitted your final assignment for the semester. You flopped back onto your bed and laughed in relief, feeling your pulsing headache beginning to ebb away.

The last day of the semester came way faster than you were prepared for. And you weren’t nearly as stressed as your normally would’ve been.

Maybe because tonight, you and Wooyoung were leaving to go visit his dad.

Wooyoung told you the next day after you asked that his father responded with an “enthusiastic yes,” and couldn’t wait to meet you. The last week of the semester flew by after that, and now you were here.

You checked your phone, and you had thirty minutes before you had to meet up with Wooyoung before you started the drive back to his dad’s house. Thankfully, you’d packed most of your things the night before, so you spent your time double and triple checking everything, and collecting everything else you might need.

And before you knew it, Wooyoung was texting you.

Heyyyyy

I’m parked outside your dorm, I finished early

Did that essay kill you?

Come onnnnn, we gotta go sooooooon

You ignored his texts until you were leaving the dorm. You got outside with your bags, being met with the early Winter weather. Cold air, a little bit of snow on the ground. Par for the course for northern November weather.

Wooyoung got out of the car and helped you with your bags. “Did you bring your whole closet?” He asked as he put them into his trunk.

“I had to, this is all I have.”

“Oh, right. Well, you can borrow some of mine if you run out while we’re there.”

You were going to be with Wooyoung and his dad, and maybe other family, until classes started again in January. A whole month away really was a small vacation, and you were ecstatic to be away from this building with your best friend.

“Thanks, Wooyoung,” you said softly, hoping you wouldn’t have to bother him with borrowing his clothes. He smiled and motioned for you two to get in the car.

And then you were off. It wasn’t a long trip, about a forty minute drive, but it felt way shorter to you. You were both incredibly relieved to be away from school, but also incredibly excited for what this Winter Break would hold.

Your heart was pounding as Wooyoung entered his home town. He hadn’t told you much about where he grew up or where his dad lived, so when Wooyoung drove into a rich suburban neighborhood and pulled into the driveway of an extravagant house you were floored.

The house was a minimalist, modern aesthetic. The colors were sharp and contrasted starkly, the windows were clear and clean, there wasn’t a speck of dirt anywhere.

“You didn’t tell me your dad was loaded,” you joked as Wooyoung turned off the car. But when you looked at him, he was nervous. You couldn’t really fathom why Wooyoung was nervous to be home, unless he himself didn’t want to see his father.

But if Wooyoung didn’t want to see him, why did he bring you along? It didn’t make sense.

“I need to tell you something about my dad before we go inside,” he started, looking down at his hands in his lap, fidgeting with them. You couldn’t help the numerous ridiculous thoughts that filled your head, trying to predict whatever Wooyoung was about to say.

“My dad…” He was already hesitating and trailing off. Warning bells were going off inside your head. Wooyoung thought for a long while, before you could see him mentally make the decision to just rip the bandaid off. “My dad isn’t a masculine man. He prefers to dress like a woman.”

And you sat stunned for a few seconds as to why your best friend thought this would be an issue for you.

“Wooyoung, I’m sorry, but do you know me?” You asked. He looked up at you, and along with nervousness, guilt started creeping into his eyes. “I don’t care how your dad wants to dress or act, as long as he’s not an asshole.”

You saw Wooyoung’s whole body relax, melting back into the car seat. He laughed softly. “Yeah, I don’t know why I was so nervous. I just didn’t want you to be surprised when we went inside to see him.”

You nodded, and smiled encouragingly. He smiled back, and you both went to get out of the car.

As you two were grabbing your respective bags, Wooyoung said “ah,” remembering something. “By the way, he prefers being called ‘mom’.”

“Are you sure your dad doesn’t have something to confess?” You said, half joking. Wooyoung laughed and shook his head.

“No, no, it’s not like that. Believe me, I asked a couple years ago. He likes being a man, he just also likes looking feminine.”

And then the nervous excitement bubbled up inside you as you both walked up the driveway, then the sidewalk, then the stairs to the front door. You could feel the mix of emotions clawing at your body from the inside out as Wooyoung struggled to grab the correct key.

The excitement of meeting your best friend’s dad, along with the nervousness of wanting to impress him was making your stomach churn. But not in a way where you felt sick, your body just didn’t know how to calm down from everything.

Wooyoung finally got the key out and unlocked the door. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest and run away.

You walked inside and were greeted to the inside of the house reflecting the outside. Modern, stark, clean, but with tasteful decorations scattered throughout. Some paintings, statues, plants, decorative lights.

But all of that was second to the gorgeous man in front of you.

Wooyoung’s father-or, mother, as he preferred-was sitting on a large, plush couch to the left of the door, watching a movie. He looked over the couch and smiled at the two of you. You forgot to smile back, because you were staring in awe of how someone could be this beautiful.

You didn’t hear what he was saying as he stood up to greet you two, because you got a full view of him and all the air left you.

He was wearing a long sleeved sparkly sweater dress that stretched down to his knees, with sheer tights underneath. His black hair was fluffy and fell freely around his perfect face, reaching down to his jawline.

Oh, his eyes and smile made your knees weak. You could feel nervous tremors run up and down your thighs.

What might’ve surprised you the most was his hourglass figure. He had tits, hips, and a tiny waist.

Oh, what a Winter Break this was about to be.

“Hey!” Wooyoung called, and you suddenly remembered you weren’t in a dream. Both men were looking at you, Wooyoung slightly annoyed, and his mother amused. “Eomma, this is my friend. This is my mom, Seonghwa.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you,” Seonghwa said, holding out his hand. You took his hand and tried to give the best handshake you could. His grip was firm, but delicate. Your eyes flicked down to look at his hands, and to your surprise, even his hands were feminine.

“Thank you, it’s good to meet you too,” you babbled out, struggling to make sure your voice didn’t waver. Seonghwa smiled warmly as he pulled back, and he turned to Wooyoung to hug him tightly. Wooyoung struggled to return the hug with his bags on his arms, but he still managed to make it work.

“Did you go out?” Wooyoung asked Seonghwa as he pulled back, looking over his mother’s outfit. “You’re all dressed up.”

“No, but my son and his friend visiting me is reason enough to dress up.”

You swear you could feel your head starting to get light. Wooyoung glanced at you, then back at his mother.

“Okay, well, I’m gonna go unpack.” Wooyoung looked at you before continuing. “There’s a guest room close to mine, I’ll show you.” You nodded, and you two started for the stairs.

“Don’t be too long!” Seonghwa called, “Dinner will be ready soon!”

You felt your heart stutter at the mention of a home cooked meal for the first time since you couldn’t remember when.

Wooyoung brought you down the hallway, turned to the right, and stopped at the end. “This room on the far end is the master room. Belongs to my mom, obviously.” Wooyoung waved his arms around to express his point, then motioned to the door on the left side of the hall, the one he was in front of. “This one is the guest room, and the one on the other side by the corner is mine.” He pointed to the door all the way down the hall.

You nodded, your eyes betraying you and drifting to Seonghwa’s bedroom door. The forbidden room, your brain was telling you. You had no reason to go in there, but the idea of going beyond it-

“Okay, dude, I can see that you were checking out my mom, okay?” Wooyoung blurts, making you whip your head back to him. You’d hoped you didn’t look as obvious as you felt, and your worst fear came true.

If Wooyoung saw it, so did Seonghwa, and the mortification slowly took over your body as you felt your face burn hot.

Your first instinct was to apologize, but you stopped yourself. All possible words left you, and you just stared at Wooyoung with fear and embarrassment all over your face. Wooyoung sighed and shook his head.

“We’ll talk about this later, go unpack your stuff. Wait until I come get you.” And with that, he walked off to his room and disappeared into it.

You didn’t even get to appreciate the gorgeous room you got to stay in, because you were too consumed with guilt to properly look over it. It was large, lavish, and comfortable, but you felt awful as you started unpacking.

You were drooling all over your best friend’s mom the second you walked in the door. You couldn’t help yourself from feeling awful the entire time you put your luggage away.

You jumped a whole foot in the air when you heard a knock on the door. The door creaked open and Wooyoung peeked inside. You were just finishing up as he came into the room, and you felt simultaneous relief and dread.

Before you could stop it, words began tumbling out of your mouth. “Look Woo, I’m sorry, I know it was insanely disrespectful of me to act that way in front of your mom, I should’ve acted better and I-”

“Woah, slow down,” Wooyoung said, holding his hands up. You stopped and swallowed back the rest of the words you thought of saying. You realized then that Wooyoung didn’t look upset anymore. In fact, he looked resigned. “I’m not mad. I think I was just protective.” He looked away for a second before he looked back at you. “I didn’t want you to think of my mom as some kind of porn character.”

“No, never!” You immediately blurted.

“I know you’re not like that, and I’m sorry I snapped at you.” You could see in Wooyoung’s eyes, he felt remorseful. You found it a little weird, because he was justified in being upset. “People have done it in the past, he thinks he found a partner, and it turns out they liked the idea of having him as a personal porn star object, nothing more.”

The fact that such a revelation didn’t surprise you made you doubly upset.

“So, I guess, what I’m saying is,” he started, and then sighed again. “I mean, if you fuck, just don’t tell me about it.”

The bluntness of his request makes you choke, and you can feel your face instantly burn hot. Wooyoung finally breaks and laughs, and his laugh makes you laugh.

You really were lucky to have an amazing friend. Not because he just gave you permission to fuck his mom, but that you could have proper conversations about issues and settle them like the adults you were.

Then again, you both clearly still acted like teenagers, but it was like a wise man once said: There’s a time and place for everything.

The three of you were sitting around the small dining table in the kitchen, enjoying the dinner Seonghwa had made for you all. Despite saying that it was a “small” table, there was still tons of space left over. You could fit much more food and people at this “small” dining table with how much space there was.

The food was delicious. Half because Seonghwa was clearly a skilled cook, and half because you hadn’t eaten anything made with love in so long. The fact that it was made with love and care put into it made it taste stellar.

“So,” Seonghwa started, looking over at you. “Why are you spending your break with us?”

You expected this question. You’d rehearsed it a million times over.

“I don’t talk to my parents, and the rest of my family already has plans this year.” It was the truth, but it didn’t give away too much information. Seonghwa gave you a sympathetic look with a slight pout. He must’ve realized you didn’t wanna talk about it more than that, because he didn’t push for you to explain more.

“Well, I’m happy to have you.” You smiled and said a soft “thank you” before taking another bite of food. “You’re welcome.”

You expected Wooyoung to be rolling his eyes with every look you gave Seonghwa, and to be annoyed with how permanently flushed your cheeks were. But to your surprise, he was giving you little smirks the entire meal, and giggling silently when your voice wavered as you spoke to Seonghwa.

It’s like you two never really grew up. Two little kids giggling at each other from across the table, almost reminiscent of teasing your friends about their crush at lunch time.

The big difference here is that your fucking crush is your best friend’s mom.

And yet despite how obvious you two must’ve been, Seonghwa never commented on anything you two did. It was as if he hadn’t noticed a thing.

You survived the rest of dinner, with light talk about how you and Wooyoung met, how school was going, your major, and more about you as a person.

Seonghwa began to clean up when you all were done eating, but you grabbed your dishes and brought them to the sink.

“What are you doing?” Seonghwa asked as you began to rinse off your utensils. He looked genuinely stunned, and you couldn’t understand why.

“Cleaning?”

“You don’t have to do that.” Seonghwa took the dishes from you. Not forcefully, but gently removing them from your hands. “I know, it’s polite to help, but I don’t mind cleaning. I actually like it.”

“But you cooked. It’s the least I can do,” you argued. Seonghwa looked at you for a moment, then smiled. You felt your stomach flip over, and smiled back to cover it up.

“Thank you, dear. That’s sweet of you.”

The name shouldn’t have made you as flustered as it did.

You spent the next few hours with Wooyoung and Seonghwa, continuing to talk, having some movies as background noise. As you sat with them, you observed their dynamic, and learned more about both of them in the process.

Your irrational theories about Wooyoung being averse to Seonghwa couldn’t be more wrong. He was relaxed, comfortable, and he clearly loved his mom. Wooyoung was cuddled up to Seonghwa towards the end of your conversation, his head basically on Seonghwa’s chest and his arms around him.

After the final movie, all three of you decided it was time to head to sleep. You said your good nights and went to your separate rooms.

But despite the comfortable bed, the wonderful room, and the hospitality of Seonghwa, you couldn’t sleep.

You looked at your phone, you shifted around, you tried walking around, but you didn’t feel tired. You were getting frustrated after a couple hours.

You decided to go get a drink of water. Maybe it would calm you, or walking around would take your mind off trying to sleep.

You quietly made your way out of your room and down the hallway, using the light from your phone to guide you. As you passed Wooyoung’s room, you heard him softly snoring.

You got into the kitchen and carefully navigated to the cabinets. Seonghwa and Wooyoung both had shown you where to find cups in case a need like this arose during your visit. You didn’t expect to need it the night of, but here you were.

You found a glass and got your water. It didn’t make you feel any better, but it did feel nice.

“Can’t sleep, darling?”

Your whole body jumped as you whirled around to look for the owner of the sound. You knew it was Seonghwa before you saw him, but you still weren’t prepared to see him in the archway, leaning against the wall, in a long black silk robe with flowers all over it.

You shouldn’t have been fixated on the fact that his robe was open enough for you to see the line that ran down his chest, and the slight ridge of each side.

He laughed softly before he spoke. “I’m sorry for startling you.”

His voice was deeper than it was before. Smoother, almost. Like chocolate sauce.

“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean it,” you mumbled, trying to keep your eyes on his face. That ended up not working out as his eyes made you feel small, and you looked to focus on your glass instead of him.

But what you didn’t know yet was that Seonghwa didn’t like to be ignored. You looked at him when he spoke to you. It was a rule like any other. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and you listen to Seonghwa.

He walked over to you and grabbed your chin, turning your head to look up at him. Your mind went blank and your stomach churned inside you like a washing machine. A smirk pulled the corners of his mouth up as your cheeks turned red yet again.

“There we are,” he cooed softly, his voice hardly more than a rumble in his throat.

“Seonghwa, what are you doing?” You said, your voice wavering on every word. Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he moved even closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck.

“Don’t tell me I was hallucinating the looks you gave me since you showed up. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you checking me out the entire time?”

Of course not, you knew there was a strong possibility he knew everything. He was at least over double your age, he was no stranger to all of this.

“I just didn’t think you’d do anything.” You began to stutter more as you struggled to pick the right words. You could see it clearly, in his big dark eyes, that he was enjoying watching you fight to stay composed.

“And why wouldn’t I? You’re a cute little doll, how could I resist?”

Your heart gave one massive beat you could feel throughout your whole body. The air in your lungs was sucked out. Your head felt light. You didn’t feel like you remembered how to stand.

Seonghwa laughed again, and his eyes shifted to something more hungry. More primal. “Come, little doll,” he said, pulling you even closer until you were pressed up against his chest. “Won’t you stay with me for the night?”

How could you answer with anything besides “yes”?

Thank you for reading! Please reblog if you enjoyed! 💜

This is a work of fiction written by me. This does not represent the idol(s) in any way. Any re-upload is not allowed and will be reported.

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fic #ateez ff #ateez smut #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #park seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut #seonghwa fanfiction #seonghwa fic #seonghwa fanfic #seonghwa ff

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moronic-validity · 3 months ago

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Fuck it. More self serving shit, but this is all headcanons because I just got done writing a fucking 4 page essay that my blood, sweat, and tears literally went into.

The 141 + Farah, König, Laswell, Nik, Valeria, and Graves x best friend! Reader who is stressed with classes. I'm sorry it's a shorter extended list than usual, but I'm like...still dying from the paper

Warning for mentions of dry heaving and an inappropriate joke, but this is straight up PG-13

Price handles it well, shocking absolutely no one. He's a bit confused why you're talking about pulling your hair out over a paper, but you said it was important, so he's going to sit with you and talk you through the entire paper. At some point, he basically just tells you what to type and you do. When the paper gets a B+ Price almost throws a chair.

The one that will shock you? Soap handles it well too! The second he sees the tears well up, he's sitting next to you, helping you map out the entire assignment. He won't talk you through it the way Price does, but he helps you get your thoughts in order enough to complete it on your own.

Ghost....well Ghost handles it in stride. You two became friends because of dry wit, snark, and the ability to remain calm, cool, and collected when shit hits the fan. And then he walks in on you dry heaving because you just found out you have a 5 page paper due by midnight and it's already 10 pm. Fuck. If your hair is long, he preemptively holds it back for you, before squatting next to you to figure out what has you so upset. When he finds out it's over a paper, he has to suppress a relieved laugh. He thought it was something serious. He'll stay up as long as you need and let you bounce ideas off him, but he's not gonna hold your hand and walk you through it.

Which leaves us with my boy Gaz! He's somewhere in-between the Ghost and Price. He showed up to your place for y'all's weekly movie night and heard you cussing up and down, left and right. Thinking there was an issue, he let himself in, only to see you yelling at your computer, tears streaming down your face. He does actually let out a relieved laugh, and sits on the couch with you. He doesn't want to hear apologies for forgetting movie night, he wants to help you get this done so movie night can commence. He will straight up take your computer and finish the assignment for you, if he has to.

Bonus!!!

Farah: Absolutely helps you crush the assignment. She'll bitch with you about the assignment, the professor, anything, but you two will get this done. If you get less than an A, I'd be shocked.

König: Listen, this guy will bluntly tell you that you should've started the assignment sooner, but he'll also be there for you to bounce ideas off of and he'll help steer your line of thought until you've got it handled.

Laswell: Depending on how upset you are, she is fully willing to forge documents that say you were admitted to the hospital for a few days and get you an extension. That being said, you get this privilege once in a calendar year. Use it wisely.

Nik: Well, C's get degrees, right? He'll do his best to help, but depending on the assignment, you both might be fucked. Nik is smart as hell, but some of this shit is new and also complicated for no fucking reason.

Valeria: She will do whatever you need her to to get this assignment done. Shut up and just keep you on task? Done. Do it for you? Done. Kill your professor? She knows a guy, done. Oh wait, you were joking about that last one? Um... Give her like...10 minutes.

Graves: He'll help you out to the best of his abilities, but when that C comes back and both of you are crestfallen, he will half-jokingly remind you that there are other ways to get an A.

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eggyboyoart · 1 year ago

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I was gonna post a vid on tiktok bc I have more followers there but i'll post it here because-

When I die, I wanna be reincarnated into Redacted Tumblr as a beautiful Lasko/Gavin spicy fic-

Anyway, I drew the D.A.M.N. boys + Imperium AU :D Please look at them, its late and I'm tired.

I also have a speedpaint of them on my yt (eggyboyoart) so if you wanted to look at that as well, I would be rlly happy :))

(TW: Spoilers for Imperium AU)

I wanted Lasko to look super light and soft and cloud-like while also being kind of elegant?? He looks so poofy :D

I hc that he takes rlly RLLY great care of his hair, like- mans has a 23 step routine to keep it untangled and soft :))

The hair routine also helps him relax and de-stress after a long day

I also headcanon that he wears a lot of light, soft sweaters with a button up underneath for that academic soft boy look

In the Imperium AU, he got the scar across his eye from a wayward daemon who tried to attack him in the D.A.M.N. daemon haven.

He wears his hair tied back into a low pony tail to seem more 'professional', bc my mans is the ACADEMY PRESIDENT :D

Imp! Lasko wears a black suit with a white button up and either a red or light blue tie (gotta keep it professional when you're tormenting daemons and chasing after uninterested freelancers :|)

IDK why but whenever I imagine Damien (original timeline), its always with rlly short hair

idk I feel like if he had long hair, it would make him too warm around his neck and that'd make him uncomfortable and grumpy (well, more grumpy than he usually is anyway)

gotta keep the neck open for air flow (and easy access-)

I think he wears a lot of sleeveless clothes (tank tops, sleeveless hoodies, etc and shorts bc of the heat

Damien is a chronic khaki shorts wearer, I'M SORRY-

Imp! Damien is royalty so obvs gotta keep it professional

I feel like he would have other priorities than cutting his hair so it mostly just gets slicked back out of his face

The scar on his neck is from a failed assassination attempt (our boy damien stays livin', unlike Angel-)

I feel like he still wears sleeveless shirts but also wears a fur cape (like, one of those white ones with the black spots with the red velvet) which seems counter intuitive.

I am relieved to say that Imp! Damien doesn't wear khaki shorts :D silver linings, guys-

I wanna start this off my saying, Imp! Huxley might be one of my favourite characters

Hes just, such a piece of shit and I don't want to change him, I want him to stay exactly how he is, thats the POINT-

Freelancer bought him neon jewellery for his lip piercings and he screamed when he got them

also a sweater wearer like lasko but he likes his sweaters to be oversized, but because hes just big, his sweaters are like blankets for regular sized ppl

he has his hair kinda long-ish bc freelancer enjoys playing with it and he likes making his friends happy so he keeps it kinda long just for them-

Imp! Huxley is a piece of shit and we love him for that

He doesn't have friends so his hair is shorter

He probably wears tactical gear/uniform bc he is an enforcer, but its all like a dark green which looks rlly good on him

no neon piercings for Imp! Hux as much as I hate to say it

GAVIN OUR FASHION ICON-

He knows clothes like he knows freelancer's body- IN AND OUT. Hes got that shit LOCKED DOWN

Freelancer gave him the heart glasses as a gift

Gavin never saw the appeal of piercings until freelancer said they would look hot on him, REALLY enjoys all the different types of jewellery

Probably wears patterned button up shirts (with as many buttons undone as possible) with skin tight jean/leather pants

Imp! Gavin dresses like hes homeless, theres no time for fashion when you're trying to survive in an dystopian magic world where everyone hates you :P

I hc that when a Daemon gets low in energy/emotions, they can't keep their 'glamour/human form' up so they forcibly have to take on their more daemonic traits (horns, coloured eyes, markings, tails, claws, etc)

and bc of the shit hole that the Imperium AU world is... :|

I also hc that only sex and sadism daemons have coloured sclera

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frozenjokes · 21 days ago

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a few very good days

ao3 link

Whatever Scar had been expecting when it came to puzzles or escape rooms or whatever else, this was not it. ‘This,’ being.. a lot of sitting around and thinking and overall doing nothing. Cub and Cleo had decided to start with one of the hallways; because they were more dangerous, they were also shorter, and it was a nice morale boost to complete a room quickly. Their definition of ‘quick’ was not the same as Scar’s, not in the slightest.

For the first few days Cub wasn’t feeling well, supposedly unrelated to his sculk situation, but Scar didn’t really believe that, even if Cleo insisted otherwise. Resisting every fiber of his being telling him to smother Cub was a monumental effort, but working with Cleo on the escape room helped, and Scar was relieved at least to stay close to the safe room, even if Cleo insisted that Scar not check in on Cub every five minutes.

The start of the puzzle room had been pretty interactive. Despite having the beginning clue of paying attention to the mirror in the hall, Cleo was determined to map every inch of the place, which, honestly, Scar had thought she and Cub had already done, but apparently not. Every item that might have a clue or code was documented, every number on the walls and carved into drawers, every letter, every word, every lock and passcode and blank screen. There was so much in here that Scar hadn’t noticed at a first glance; it felt like every inch of this place was stuffed full of codes and riddles and ciphers. The back of the mirror had its own numerical lock, which Cleo was certain the mirror itself would hold the answer to. That made sense.

And then Cleo got sick.

Scar hadn’t noticed anything, and was alarmed when she told him she wasn’t feeling well, but Cub was doing better, so he would be helping out. Cleo didn’t have a fever or sweats or even smell any different, and Scar was disturbed he couldn’t tell they were sick at all, even after excessive investigation. On accident, he’d woken them up multiple times during the night trying to figure out what was the matter, being told off for completely reasonable forms of affection (“If you lick the insides of my ears one more time I am going to twist out your tongue with my bare hands), but despite his best efforts, he could not detect any sort of illness. Scar was an excellent caregiver regardless, whenever Cub would let him at least.

Cub did not have as much patience for Scar’s anxiety as Cleo did, and he didn’t very much like to hear about Scar’s struggle identifying a problem. ‘Just leave her alone, she wants to be left alone,’ and yes, Scar was perfectly okay and not at all stressed about doing this, but he was just concerned he couldn’t sense any kind of issue! Is that what happened when you died and came back? Scar had no idea, and he had an awful lot of questions, though all of them were answered with a blunt ‘I don’t know,’ even when Scar had gotten suspicious and started asking things Cub absolutely knew the answer to, which, to his credit, had turned into a somewhat amusing game. Cub was very good at holding a straight face, and Scar wanted nothing more than to Break It.

They were not very productive in the day or so that Cleo was ill. In fairness, Scar and Cleo had mapped out most of the room, so he and Cub were left to start with the mirror code, which turned out to be an excruciatingly boring task of trial and error that Scar tired of quickly. Messing around with Cub, trying to pull out any other emotion than ‘:|’ was far more entertaining.

And then Cub went to check on Cleo (WITHOUT HIM 3:<), but it wasn’t long before he returned, poking his head through the door to let Scar know she was all better (YAYY :3!!!). Cub didn’t explicitly say Scar was free to reenter the safe room when he let the door close, leaving Scar alone in the hall, but Scar took this to mean he was allowed back in, bounding to the door (with perhaps less caution than necessary in a hallway filled with deadly traps, but hey, he managed to get through unscathed nonetheless).

Scar was very confused to walk in and see Cub and Cleo sitting together on Cub’s bed, a blanket draped over both their laps.. a very small blanket actually, it looked torn at the edges.. what had Cub done to his bedspread?

“Uh,” Scar mumbled, a little nervous in the wake of Cleo’s bright expression and Cub’s slightly less angry looking face. They were looking at him expectantly, and Scar had utterly no clue what to do with that. “Is.. everything okay?”

“We made you something,” Cleo began, and they looked just about to burst, though when Cub said nothing, they elbowed him hard enough in the side to double him over, “Go on!”

“Augh. My insides.”

“Cub!”

“Why do I have to speak.”

“It was your idea!”

“Don’t tell him that.”

“Why not? I think it’s very sweet.”

“Stop saying words. Forever.”

“If you don’t want me to talk then you’re going to have to.”

“Fine.” Cub looked up, a definitive if not slightly sheepish look plastered in his strained frown, “I thought you could have something to lick that wasn’t me because I hate it and you’re not allowed to do that anymore even if you want to which is annoying because I can tell you want to and it irritates me. Stop looking at me like you want to lick me. Lick this instead.”

From under the blanket, Cub pulled a small plush- cat? It looked like it was meant to be a cat despite being a little rough around the edges, but it had those small ears and a tail and it even had six legs.. gosh it totally was a cat! A little kitten! Immediately it was clear the creature was made from the fabric that used to be Cub’s blanket, and Scar couldn’t entirely see Cub’s sheets behind him, but he didn’t know what else could have been used to stuff the little plush. The face had small embroidered eyes and a little smile. Scar could have cried.

“How- How did you make this? There isn’t- I don’t remember anything sharp you could’ve-”

“I can hack away at anything. Just takes longer.” Cub interrupted him, curt. Cleo was beaming. Cub looked about ready to bite her. “Stop- both of you stop that. Stop looking like that. I didn’t even sew it up, Cleo did that, I wouldn’t be precise enough to do a good job. They’re the only reason it looks half good, they’ve got the thread just in case their face falls apart, I hardly did anything.”

Apparently Cub was not pleased with the silence, and he did bite Cleo, hard by the way she yelped, then he took the plush and whipped it at Scar, who with great alarm caught it like it was glass, staring on at Cub as he continued to hiss “And be careful with it! It’s fragile.”

“I can repair it if any of the seams come loose,” Cleo smirked, patting Cub on the back, to which he glared at her with a revulsion Scar had never seen cross his face before. Then, standing stiff, he marched to Cleo’s bed and buried himself in it. Cleo still looked radiant. “And what he won’t say is that he’s sorry for freaking out on you all those loops ago, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

Cub’s great revolution to this sentiment was expressed in a valiant flailing and cursing under the covers, but other than that, he said no more.

Scar wasn’t listening. He was too enraptured in the face of his new companion, soulful and innocent and entirely perfect. He’d never loved so instantly, so strongly. A little one of his very own. Scar would treat it with utmost care.

…

The three of them fell into a pretty steady routine. Wake up, chat, eat, head to the puzzle room, fuck around for a bit, hopefully make some process, break for lunch, chat, back to the puzzle room, hit their heads against the wall when nothing was working, break for dinner, and depending on how motivated the three of them were, they’d get back to it. It was boring, a lot more boring than Scar had expected from a big escape room, but he supposed there was a reason this thing took months to complete. The humans didn’t want their prisoners to have too much fun.

But there were a few new developments with Scar’s life that made existing here a little more bearable, sometimes even nice.

It was a strange thing for him how the humans ate, always together, always talking or playing a game or doing something else, like the act of eating was sidelined by a more engaging social activity. It still made Scar a little uncomfortable; he just couldn’t shake it despite longing for their company, but that didn’t mean his new shining star needed to be excluded.

When Cub and Cleo sat down to eat, Scar left his Little with them, along with its very own serving of rations, so it might participate while Scar rested in his place near the ceiling, one eye open, relaxed, observing, but mostly drifting to a surface level doze. Cub and Cleo usually went back to the escape room before Scar woke, so he ate afterwards, content to be alone with his Little.

The humans were also consistently sleeping together now, likely due to Cub’s mangled sheets, but this was a double win for Scar, who was more than thrilled to drape himself over the both of them, Little tucked under his chest. Any surges of sudden affection were redirected to his Little, the short fur on its head always sticking up in every which way. It was great. It was almost perfect. He loved human nights now, even if they were still far too quiet.

The time just before the night was lovely as well. They had already eaten their dinner, so the three of them just lounged in the beds, sometimes spread out over the two, sometimes all in the same place, and Cleo got to telling stories.

Scar didn’t know how these stories became routine, they hadn’t been before, but it started with a distant smile, Scar asking what she was thinking about, and then,

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just thinking about home. Funny memory with my family, that’s all.”

“Tell me about it?”

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine.”

“Please?”

Cleo looked up, and Scar didn’t know if she just didn’t want to tell, or didn’t think Scar wanted to hear what she had to say, but either way she cracked, smiling as she shook her head.

“Well, near my childhood home there were all these strawberry fields, and the people that owned the land made their money by letting people pick them and bring ‘em home, y’know?”

Scar glanced away, sheepish, “I don’t.. know the field you’re talking about. We don’t have whatever the word before is.”

“Oh, it’s a fruit. It’s food that grows out of the ground.”

“Oh, alright. Continue.”

Cleo smiled, “Well, the food grows on bushes that are pretty close to the ground, so people have to bend over to pick them up. We don’t walk easily on four legs, we have bad knees.”

“Yes,” Scar agreed heartily, “I find them unnerving.”

“Me too, anyway, my mom would bring ‘her boys’ down to the food fields, and we’d all go ‘strawberry’ picking, a nice family activity, at least until her terrible little gremlin children became quite aware of what tends to happen to middle aged men who bend over to pick food with their kids.” Cleo gestured to their pants, and Scar did not understand.

“Asscrack!” Cub mumbled, and Scar gave him a quizzical look until Cleo continued.

“When you bend over, sometimes your pants slide down and bring your underwear with it. Happens to the best of us. But my brother and I, shit eating children as we were, thought this was very amusing. Honestly, it was my mother’s fault, she was the one who started it. She brought the two of us close, pointed in the most conspicuous way she could’ve possibly done it, and whispered ‘asscrack!’ We, all three of us, were in complete stitches. Inconsolable. Now, we’re little kids, we aren’t supposed to be swearing like that, so imagine my mom’s horror when she accidentally creates a new game, her two children pointing and screaming ASSCRACK every single time a poor soul bends over wearing pants way too tight. It became a competition. Who could call out the most asscracks? Had to be different people every time, no repeats, and whoever spotted the crack first and called it out got the point. My mother caved eventually, because objectively, Asscrack is an incredible game. We got our swearing pass one day a year out in those fields, hardly able to get the words out because we were laughing so hard. We were pulling down our own pants just to add our own cracks to our point totals. Complete chaos. I’d give anything to go back and do it all again,” Cleo sighed, their smile falling slightly, but Scar was utterly entranced.

He still didn’t quite understand why pants were such a big deal to humans, but that didn’t matter. It wasn’t about the details. “Tell me more.”

Cleo snorted, “More what? Nothing else to that story.”

“More stories, then. Please.”

Cleo laughed, rolling her eyes. “You are just like a kid sometimes, you know that?” Scar didn’t care. Cleo’s smile returned, and they closed their eyes, reclining back on the bed board to think. Scar watched with bated breath, his Little tucked close to his chest and wearing a similar expression of anticipation (:3).

He wanted more. He wanted to hear all about their past, their friends, their family, the stupid things they got up to when they were young, everything, and that first night Cleo talked until the three of them fell asleep, Scar remembering distinctly a small smile on Cub’s face before consciousness faded to dark.

Sometimes Scar would attempt to contribute a story, and while he struggled sometimes to sift through the swamp of ugly memories to find something positive, Cleo was patient, and even Cub’s eyes had a shine of interest that encouraged him to continue. Scar had.. never really done this before. Rested on the soft cloud of tender memories, spoke the good into existence, let it feel real. And it did. It felt so much more real. His longing for home remained in the wake of his speeches, but there was something more hopeful there, something good, something to look forward to when he finally made it back to his planet. (Maybe it wouldn’t be long now.. two weeks had passed and even though progress was slow, it was definitely happening. Cleo predicted they were more than halfway done with the hall puzzles, and Cub had been less optimistic, but reluctantly agreed. With only five rooms and one of them almost complete, it wouldn’t be long now.)

Scar was going to call home. He was going to do it after Cub and Cleo fell asleep, when his morale was highest and when they couldn’t see him get ripped to shreds if things turned sour. Scar would have his Little. That would be enough.

While he was waiting for the humans to fall asleep he ended up dozing off himself, but that was alright, since when he woke up he knew for sure they’d both be sufficiently conked out. Indeed, they did not stir, even when he walked over them to sneak out the left hall door.

Scar’s confidence held firm until he reached the control room monitors, slowly draining away to the beat of the soft electronic buzzing. While the room was just as bright as it was during the day, the atmosphere was still gentle like the night, unsettling in some ways and peaceful in others. He hesitated when he reached the keyboard, but he was not a coward. He knew which buttons to press.

The initial receiver looked surprised to see him; maybe it was late back home? Regardless, they were cordial, and there was only a brief waiting period before a familiar face was staring back at him from his own clan’s console board.

Scar meant to speak, but standing face to face with someone he knew, cared for, even when they hardly spoke beyond a passing greeting.. his tongue dried. Skizz did not need to be prompted.

“What’s poppin’ homie buddeh, how you doing, man? It’s been a while, we’ve been thinking about’cha.”

Scar opened his mouth. No words came out of it. The only warning of what was to come was an itch at the back of his throat, a swelling in his chest, and then he sobbed, sobbed like he’d never cried before in his entire life. Scar had been sad, he’d known the ache of depression and boredom that clawed harder than the looming hunger, he’d broken down at the loss of his mother, and he’d known pain of broken limbs, sickness, frailty that threatened his fragile sense of usefulness, but this..

Right now, he did not cry for grief or anger or loss. He did not cry for loneliness, and maybe he did cry for homesickness, but tonight, inconsolably sobbing at a bright screen, he cried because they were thinking about him. They were thinking about him, and the cat that had answered the phone had been happy to see him. Scar had not dared be so hopeful.

Skizz pressed his large forehead to the camera, and Scar heard the horns that curled around his ears clink against the screen, “It’s alright. It’s okay, Scar, it’s going to be okay.”

Scar couldn’t help himself from clambering up on the desk and keyboard, he could have killed himself with carelessness like this, but he didn’t care, he needed to get to the camera mounted above the monitor, he needed to be close. He pushed his forehead to it and it was warm, almost like a body.

“I miss you. I miss being there. I think about it every day, every day I want to be back home. We- I’m working on it. It won’t be long now, but I just miss it- being home, I just want to be back home.”

“You’ve got it, buddy. I know you’ll make it work.”

Scar laughed, just a little bit, shaking his head, “I don’t know if we know each other well enough to be saying stuff like that..”

“Naww, if I know a thing about you, Scar, it’s that you’re a mighty whirlwind of a guy. You can break through. You’re a stubborn son of a bitch, you won’t stop until you’ve done it.”

Scar backed up from the camera to see that Skizz had already returned to his place in frame, bright eyed and vibrant as he was; maybe Scar should spend more time around Skizz; he hadn’t before because of Impulse, Scar being mildly intimidated by him, but maybe it would be worth putting forth more of an effort to befriend the both of them. Some of Skizz’s optimism might rub off on him.

Scar hopped down from the desk, giving his ruffled shoulders a few embarrassed licks, “I don’t think I have a choice, truthfully.”

“Yeah,” Skizz looked thoughtful, tail flicking genially, “But you’ll do it all the same. What can I do for you, Scar? Looking for anyone?”

“Pearl,” Scar spoke faster than he’d intended, tripping over the one word, “Is Pearl around?”

Skizz raised an eyebrow, and Scar knew why. Anyone would have expected Mumbo, but Scar wasn’t quite ready to see him yet, hoping he’d be away. Besides, Scar and Pearl weren’t.. on the best of terms. It didn’t matter. Scar was still sniffling, and Skizz didn’t try to question him.

“I’ll call down, one second,” Skizz muted his and Scar’s connection, and Scar saw Skizz sit up on his haunches, using all four of his paws to dial and hold the phone; Scar wondered if Skizz was covering a shift for Impulse; it didn’t make sense otherwise why he wasn’t using a phone fit for paws without thumbs. Skizz didn’t seem to have an issue either way, brightening when someone on the other end picked up, looking like chatting with the cat on the other line made him the happiest man in the world. He was always like that, really. Skizz had a talent for making you feel valued, he was one of the nicest cats in the clan, that was for sure. He was a big guy, a retired mercenary with the scars to prove it, but even then, there wasn’t a jaded bone in his body. Scar wished he could be like that one day.

“She's on her way, happy to be here too, doesn’t happen very often that she has an excuse to blind the whole comms team in the middle of the night.”

“Oh, is it late? Sorry, the humans track time differently-”

“Nonsense, nonsense, come now, Scar, you know Pearl’s on an inverted clock anyway, yeesh, if I had a sleep schedule like her I’d be in the ground!” The both of them laughed softly, Skizz doing Scar a massive favor by carrying the rest of the conversation with mild small talk. Scar didn’t want to talk very much about what was going on in his own life, and it was an incredible relief to close his eyes and listen to the comings and goings of his own clan, even if he wasn’t truly there.

There was no mistaking Pearl’s arrival, the dim lights of the room being blown out by the light from her eyes and fur, literal light, Pearl was only slightly larger than the smallest cats on Scar’s planet, but you wouldn’t know it, mostly because when her eyes were open, you could hardly look her in the face at all. Multiple cats groaned in the face of the sudden light and Skizz snickered, mixing warmly with Pearl’s recognizable cackle. The brightness was far more bearable when Pearl closed her eyes, the moths and various other creatures nestled in her fur fluttering, but ultimately not moving.

“Do me a favor, won’t you Skizz?” Pearl mumbled through a dark blindfold hanging out the side of her mouth.

“Anytime, Pearlo,” Skizz took the blindfold gently, his paws dwarfing her face as he awkwardly pushed the light canceling cloth over her face, the both of them giggling at the clumsiness of their own paws. Scar was amused to see small dapples of light poking out from the many holes made by accidental claw marks, probably from all the struggling to get the thing on in the first place. Scar was glad he had thumbs.

When the commotion was over, Pearl turned to the camera, and even though the smile on her face remained, she was less animated as she greeted him, “Hello, Scar. Good to see you.”

Scar faltered slightly, unsure if she could actually see him through the blindfold or not; she didn’t wear it often, it was hard to remember. Kind of a stupid design if she couldn’t see though, that wouldn’t much much sense-

“Scar?”

“Oh- Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Skizz looked between the two of them, lowering his head, “I’ll leave you two to it. Call if you need anything.” Scar watched with mild terror as Skizz got to his paws, padding away into the back hall.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Pearl’s voice was light, but Scar could hear the strain- oh, she must be able to see through the blindfold then, okay.

“Ah- Sorry. I’m just.. I’m a little bit scrambled.”

“Don’t need to apologize, mate, I don’t have anywhere else to be. If I can ask, though, why me? Feels like it’s been ages since we’ve really talked.”

Scar bit his tongue at the impulse to apologize. “I’ve just been thinking about you. We’ve been- the humans and I, I mean.. We do a lot of talking. There’s not much else to do other than talk. And I was thinking about you, the both of us when we were younger, y’know? We weren’t- I mean, we weren’t anything close or anything.. just the same age in the same place, but.. I don’t know. I miss.. I feel like I didn’t.. I appreciate you. I appreciate you, and I wanted you to know.”

It was hard to read Pearl’s expression when half of her face was covered; Scar wished she didn’t have to wear that stupid blindfold, but he supposed if the light from her eyes shone directly into the camera, he wouldn’t be able to see her either.

“That’s sweet, Scar,” Pearl mumbled, and he saw a small smile there, but it was bittersweet, and Scar fought the storm of anguished rejection that threatened to burst through the gates of his composure, “I miss it too, sometimes. It was easier then, easier to goof around and get in trouble and not care so much. I was afraid to lose that. And you were in such a hurry to grow up.”

“I know,” Scar’s whiskers twitched, ear drooping, “It was hard with my health.. I knew I’d get set back. If I wasn’t working harder than everyone else then I wouldn’t be fit to fly as early as I needed to.”

“You didn’t have to go to space the day you turned of age.”

“I did.”

“I guess I’ll never understand that about you,” Pearl sighed, and Scar was relieved, at least until she continued, “I just wish you didn’t have to change. You weren’t just in a hurry to grow up, you had to leave everyone else behind in order to do it.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did, Scar. That’s why it’s so difficult to be around you sometimes, because you just don’t.. I don’t know. It’s nice to know you cared, it really is, because I didn’t really know. I believe you didn’t see it that way, that you didn’t actually think the only cats good enough for you were the soldiers you looked up to, but that’s how I took it. That’s how I felt.” Pearl quieted, but when Scar didn’t have the words to answer, she lowered her head. “But yeah, I miss it too. I know things were never really easy, but I do miss it. I hope you’re doing well.”

“I’d like to make it up to you. I really- I am sorry. I was.. I can’t fix it, I can tell you why, but I can’t fix it, and I’m sorry. I want to make it up to you. I’ve thought a lot of things for a lot of years that weren’t true, but I.. I’ve had a lot of time to look back, and when I’ve been doing that, thinking about it all, so much of my childhood I got to spend being a child.. that was you. And I owe you so much for that, I just wish I could’ve realized it sooner.”

Pearl shook her head. “Nothing to be done, Scar. Nothing to be done. All of that was so many years ago, I’ve moved on, and even though all this is.. It’s nice to hear, but it’s over now. When you’re home we can share a groom; I wouldn’t mind reconnecting with you. No use holding grudges from when we were kids; no use holding grudges at all in my opinion. We have enough to be unhappy about, don’t we? If you want to do anything for me, then let it go. I’d be happy with that.”

“Okay,” Scar fought to keep his voice steady. He wasn’t sure how he’d do that, but if that’s what Pearl wanted from him, he would try. He would try. “I’d like that. I really would. I don’t- Wastes, sharing a groom sounds like the best thing in the world to me right now.”

“Humans don’t groom each other like we do?”

“They don’t groom each other at all.”

“What? No wonder they’re so miserable! I’ve heard they’re quite poor company, I’m sorry for that.”

“Oh, no, they’re not so ba-“

“Scar!” Mumbo ripped into the comms room, scaring the life out of everyone present on what was previously a quiet night, even Pearl’s tail puffing to double its size while Scar couldn’t do anything but stare in bewildered shock at the screen. Several catfolk let loose a couple of nasty hisses, to which Mumbo shrunk back with a meek apology before squirreling towards Pearl, not that he greeted her in the slightest.

“Scar, goodness Scar, you’re alright, are you? Did you get away from them? How long has it been, oh, and you’ve been stuck with those- those maniacs- and it’s my fault! Scar, I’m sorry. I never should have said those things that I said to you, it was stupid, and I had no idea- Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Scar gaped stupidly. “..What? I don’t- what?”

“They killed you!”

“I.. The humans? Yeah, they.. quite a few times they’ve killed me. The ship in it of itself is kind of a death trap. You’re designed to die. I don’t like it, but that’s where I’m at.. Trying not to get desensitized to it is the hardest part, honestly, but I’ve been shot in the head so many times it hardly phases me anymore. If I have to die, that’s how I prefer to go. Cub has crafted a few more.. creative ways of killing me.. Well, technically I wasn’t the one he was trying to kill, but accidents happen, and honestly, so long as there’s blood I think he’s happy.”

Mumbo couldn’t have looked more horrified if a human came in through the hall door and shot Scar dead right then.

“There has to be something we can do. We have to get you out of there, we need- There must be something that’ll keep those humans from treating you like a shooting range dummy!”

Scar scratched the back of his head, discomfort making his tail twitch, “It’s not so bad, Mumbo. Most of the time they’re doing it to reset the loop, which we have to do to find a proper layout for the puzzles. They’re doing me a favor, honestly.. if they didn’t shoot me, I’d have to do it myself and I.. I just can’t.”

“You shouldn’t have to! It looks to me like they kill you just for fun!”

Scar pursed his lips. “Well.”

“Well?”

“Cub does. Sometimes. It’s been a while though! And Cub promised to be nicer- I don’t know if that means he’ll stop, but at least right now he can’t! We’re working on the puzzles, and if we solve it, we get to go home early! I know it feels like a long way away, but we have five puzzles to solve, and we’re already more than halfway through the first one! I’m going to go home, Mumbo.”

But Mumbo growled in response, only stopping when Scar shrank under the noise, Mumbo’s long ears drooping and eyes growing softer. “I’m going to make this right, Scar, I’m going to do my best to- which one is Cub?”

“I- He’s the one with the dark hair and the lab coat. All the baggy clothes, really. But it’s fine, Mumbo, I think we’re starting to get along-“

“It’s not fine!” Mumbo wailed, getting a few dirty looks from the other cats in the room, “Nothing about this is fine, Scar! I’ll set off to the central comms center tomorrow, I’ll make them put me in contact with the humans and if they don’t listen then I’ll get Grian to do it! He doesn’t have the authority either, but he could bring them to tears at least, he’ll do it for me. I’ll tell them to get that Cub human under control- and the other one too, I don’t care if they’re nicer, they knew exactly what they were doing when they looked directly at me and pulled the damned trigger-“ Mumbo’s voice hiked upwards in staccato notes, and Scar couldn’t do much more than blink as he struggled to process what Mumbo had said.

“Did.. Did Cleo call you?”

Mumbo stared at Scar as if he was a ghost, “Not exactly but- but I- I called you. It’s been ages, I don’t know exactly when but you- you weren’t there and they.. you don’t remember?”

“No!?”

“Oh dear,” Pearl mumbled, and a couple other cats glanced away, like everyone in the room knew what had happened while Scar was still in the dark.

“What did they do!?”

“I-“ Mumbo started, stuttering and stumbling, “I just wanted to talk to you! I didn’t- I didn’t like how things went down, it was unfair to you, I just-“

“Mumbo, what happened?”

“You- They were waiting for you. By both of those doors. When you came inside the Cub human grabbed you and you- you looked right at me and your- your head, Scar, your head. He looked right at me, just covered in your blood, you couldn’t have even fought back. He shot you- I don’t even know how many times he shot you, your body was just convulsing- And then the other human came out of nowhere, and they killed Cub, right in the head, just like he’d done to you, and they looked at me. Scar, they looked at me before they shot themself, and they didn’t even die right away. I was just staring, staring at the three of you for I don’t even know how long. Until the screen went black. The call disconnected. I can’t stop seeing your face, the way you looked at me, like you saw me, and you knew you were going to die.”

Scar gaped. He couldn’t close his stupid mouth, he couldn’t hardly think- Mumbo had called back, he’d tried to reach Scar, and neither of them had said a word.

Scar was going to FUCKING KILL THEM.

“I’ll call you back. I don’t know when, but soon.” Scar was barely holding himself together, composure as thin as the line of his lips. He set his Little down on the keyboard; it didn’t need to see this. Mumbo didn’t either, Scar knew he wouldn’t want to, though he’d gladly perform a show for every cat available to watch him rip them limb from limb.

Scar didn’t remember how to hang up, but whether or not Mumbo did so was not his problem. Muscle memory brought him back to the humans safely.

They did not wake up when Scar tore the blankets away with a hiss, but they were certainly up when he yanked them out of bed by their ankles, backs and faces smashing against the floor, the both of them jumping dazedly to their hands only to be kicked back down.

“Scar-?”

“Take a guess who I just got off the phone with,” Scar snarled, angrier still when clarity failed to reach Cleo’s eyes; he expected something like this from Cub, he did not expect it from them. He wound back and kicked her, hard enough to break a rib though he didn’t hear anything crack. She groaned, breath stolen.

“Was no one going to say anything? Mumbo called, and NEITHER of you thought to tell me? You lied!”

“Oh,” Cub grunted, rolling over onto his arms, “That’s what this is about? Couldn’t have waited until the morning?”

“Shut up!” Scar raked his claws across Cub’s face, then again, then a third time, but it wasn’t enough, Cub wasn’t in enough pain, so Scar kicked him as well, nailing him hard enough in the stomach to roll him on his back. “Shut up! Just- Shut up!”

“Scar, come on,” Cleo wheezed, breath coming heavy, “We didn’t know what he wanted. You were so upset, we didn’t want anyone thinking they could just call to yell at you any time, especially when we’re the ones who have to endure the aftermath.”

“Oh, is that it.” Scar whirled on them, tail lashing so violently that he wouldn’t be surprised if it whipped right out of the socket, “I’m just such a burden on the two of you that you couldn’t tell me when my damn friends want to talk to me!”

“Yeah,” Cub huffed, “You were a fucking pain in the ass.” Cub stopped talking when Scar stomped on his back with both legs.

“We all have our lows,” Cleo grunted, “And they’re not always easy on the other people. It happens. You don’t like when we kill each other, and we don’t like it when you- were the way that you were. But we dealt with it because we had to, and we did what we needed to do to keep it from getting worse.”

“Is that all I am to you?” Scar snarled, “A fucking inconvenience?”

“No, Scar,” Cleo sighed harshly, she was annoyed at him! She was annoyed, Cleo- Scar didn’t even hear the rest, he swiped at their face in an uncoordinated hurt, only grazing their nose, but his claws caught on something, pulled, Scar wincing back at the unexpected resistance. “Fuck- fucking- Damn it, Scar!”

He’d torn something, the stitches maybe, there was no blood, but something else, lighter and viscous and something was very wrong with their skin, but as quickly as Scar was frightened by it, he did not care, whirling around and storming out of the room. He went to collect his Little; the monitors were dark and he was grateful. He didn’t want to see anyone right now. But the control room got too much traffic, he didn’t want to be here, so he went back to his own reset room, settling on the top of the shelf with the judgemental statues, and sniffled dust.

If either of the humans came looking for him, they probably wouldn’t find him up here. He didn’t want to be found.

It didn’t matter. They never came looking.

That hurt more.

#hermitcraft #hermitfic #hermitcraft fic #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #cubfan135 #zombiecleo #convex #mumbo jumbo #skizzleman #pearlescentmoon #timeloopprisonau

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jinkookspencil · 1 year ago

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the quest | ksj

your boyfriend's friends are a great help on your quest for a new hobby, leaving him feeling... irked?

description/tags: kim seokjin / established relationship / angst + a little fluff (the angst slowly builds until it's basically hurt/comfort) / feat. the rest of bts / jealous boyfriend jin / pov switches from yn to jin / no trigger warnings i'd say pg-13 / request from this anon! i hope you like it, sorry it's taken me so long, i wasn't feeling the best. i don't know if that feeling had an impact on the fic - i felt such an urge to rewrite the whole thing and start from scratch because i read it over so many times! that'll just take much longer so.. i might rewrite this sometime in the future or upload a shorter version since it ended up being my longest work ever???

wc: ~8k words

Statistics and relationship coaches claim that every introvert needs an extroverted partner. The extrovert to ‘bring the introvert out of their shell and live a little’ and the introvert to show the extrovert the value of rest and healing in solitude.

But no one who believed any of that crap had met you and Seokjin. You and Jin fit together like the pieces of the puzzles you two loved to solve together on the weekends.

The two of you were too alike: introverted souls with charming social skills and a small group of friends who ultimately loved staying at home and indulging in your stress-relieving hobbies in much-needed peace and quiet. Or so it seemed.

Early on in your relationship, Jin had boasted about his gaming skills to no end, so his irregular, prolonged gaming sessions came as no surprise to you, but considering this, what had been so surprising was the number of friends and hobbies he actually had.

Sure, you had your fair share of the same as well, but Jin did so much more than he ever let on: snowboarding, tennis, fishing, golf, and cooking, to name a few, and he carried them out with friends of all ages, from grandfathers in their sixties who he loved cooking with, to careermen in their thirties he played golf with on the weekends. When he finally invited you to see him in action, you quickly found out that it was as attractive and inspiring as it was surprising…

“All this because I sweat when I play tennis?” he said when his breathing finally returned to normal following his high, still lying naked on the living room couch after he invited you to watch him play.

“Yes… just like you’re sweating now,” you murmured, sitting up from your position between his legs and admiring Jin’s glistening, flushed skin as you grazed his chest and traced the muscles he loved to hide. “I don’t think I ever got the whole ‘jock’ thing being attractive, but it was hot… seeing you all sporty. I wish I could be like that... I want to be. I need more hobbies.”

“What do you mean?” Jin says, sitting up. “You love to read. Everywhere I turn, I see books - if there hadn't been a bed in your old apartment, I’d have thought it was a library, and now my - our - apartment is beginning to look like one.”

“I’m in the worst reading slump of my entire life. I need to do something different. More hobbies. More friends. The girls are great, but… seeing you, I feel as though I want… more. I want to be a better version of myself - and for myself. Don’t they say that happens to you when you find the right person?”

Jin’s lips meet yours once more, briefly, before he pulls away and opens his mouth to whisper. “I understand striving for ‘better’ or ‘more’ baby, but I hope you know that you’re enough. You’re always more than enough. Just the way you are. You’re good. You’re great. You’re beautiful. I love you.”

The simple yet significant words, coupled with Jin cupping your face and brushing your hair to the side, were just what you need at that moment to put your mind at ease, and you easily fall asleep in Jin’s arms.

The quest for a hobby was supposed to be simple. Try, and try, and try until you saw what would ‘stick.’

It was clear early on that your boyfriend’s hobbies would never be yours.

Jin begrudgingly demoted you to ‘his sous-chef-for-life’ when you nearly burned the house down three times in your attempts to surprise him with dinner.

His own gaming etiquette got in the way of you ever enjoying a good game with him, for he had no patience with newbies, and you didn’t have the patience to learn all the controls. The only good that attempt did was him buying you a PC and every gaming accessory possible in your favorite colors, even though they mostly went untouched. For his sake, you’d use the Switch controller whenever he insisted on a game of Mario Kart, and you visited your PC every now and then for a slower game. “I’m a GAMER. AND I cook. AND I fish, too,” you tease Jin every time you play Cooking Mama and Animal Crossing for all of 15 minutes.

Fishing, on the other hand, was a scene from your worst nightmare. Being woken up at the crack of dawn to maybe catch a fish after hours of waiting while seasick… was something you swore to Jin you’d never do again. Luckily, he seemed to prefer it as his usual “boy’s time” anyway, even though he never voiced it, and you quickly found out that the exact same could be said for golf - but neither of you minded the occasional role you played from the golf cart, seeing your boyfriend in action and matching in the most bougie athleticwear on the market.

Tennis… was a sight to behold. You had always said that when it came to Jin, attending some of his practice sessions just to bask in the sight and sounds of him on the court, but the same could also be said for you, though in an entirely different context. The racket seemed to reject your very being, flying from your grasp on numerous occasions and putting Jin’s trainer at risk as well as the general public when it went flying over the court’s walls and onto the street. Jin went so far as to dub it ‘the most memorable tennis day of his entire life,’ despite the fact that he had won a small championship.

Until snowboarding season came around, you were left without any new skills or passions shared with your boyfriend. His support and endless words of encouragement meant the world, but iIt had to have been for the better that none of his hobbies were yours - you understood that those were spaces he needed for himself and didn’t want to be the girl whose entire hobby or life was her boyfriend.

Nights and days he spent away were left entirely in your restless hands - try, and try, and try….

“Are you seeing Mina tonight? Nana? Girl’s night?” Jin asks as he puts on his coat.

“They’re still sick,” you pout. “I’ll be waiting here for you, baby.”

“Do you want to come along? Mr. Baek’s kitchen is always open.”

“Didn’t you say you were making some kiwi pie thing today? You know I’m allergic.”

Jin resigns, taking off his coat. “I’ll stay, then.”

You don’t allow him to, handing the thick, fleecy material back to him. “No, baby, I’m fine. Tonight, I’m trying out a new interest: European classical movies. Apparently, French films from the 1960s are very influential and artistic.”

“And boring,” Jin adds. “I watched some at university. You’re better off with Asian cinema.”

“I’ll leave that for whenever you’re free, then,” you say, anticipating the day but quickly putting the thought away. “I’ll be blasting this film so loudly, not even your ‘soundproof’ gaming room would be safe from its jazzy soundtrack.”

Jin smiles before parting his lips, considering the words he was hesitant to speak. “What if… what if I called up Taehyungie and asked him if he’s free to hang out with you?”

You drop your head as you raise your brows. “You’re arranging a play date for your girlfriend? I’m a grown woman, Kim Seokjin. I can entertain myself, much like you can…...” Your voice trails off, thinking of all the failed attempts at entertaining yourself with different hobbies and interests that were anything but interesting.

“It’s just that I know Taehyung would love that! C’mon, you know he would! You seemed to be getting on with him whenever we see the boys, right? Didn’t you both fangirl over Frank Sinatra the last time we hung out?”

“It’s Bing Crosby, honey.”

“There you go - I can’t even tell the difference… but Taehyung can. For what it’s worth, he’s complaining in the group chat non-stop that he’s bored out of his mind. So… why not?”

Steps away from his front door, Jin could hear trumpets echoing from his apartment. Taehyung worked his magic, alright, he thought to himself as he inputted the keycode and swung the door open. Jin expected to see the two of you lounging on the couch, watching the film, or simply having the music play through your vinyl player while you chatted away with a glass of wine. What he did not expect was to see the two of you drunkenly dancing in horrible fashion with intertwined hands and Jimin laughing his head off from the couch.

“OH! Speak of the devil!” Jimin cheers, seemingly sober. “Jin-hyung, save me from these two - please.”

In a second, you rush to Jin, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck and messily kiss him on the lips. “Thank God. I can do as the song says and finally dance with mon cherie. Tae, mon ours, go sit.”

A pout appears on Taehyung’s face as he plops beside Jimin, but your eyes are still on your boyfriend, attempting to manhandle him into some form of movement. “Oh, my baby,” he laughs, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Taehyung, I expected you to take care of her.”

“And that’s why I called Jimin,” Tae babbles, forcing a not-so-innocent childlike expression on his face, pointing at their friend. “We-we’re staying over tonight, okay?”

“Seems like a sleepover already,” Jin tuts.

“Humor her, hyung. I was called in halfway through the film and we’ve yet to finish it because they keep repeating the same scene. She’s been saying she wants to dance with you all night like the girl in the movie does,” Jimin says.

“I’ve never seen this film. I don’t know what to do,” Jin says.

“We’ll teach you,” Taehyung says as tries to rewind the film to whatever dance scene you were talking about, in as bad of a state as you were, which Jin thought would help. “Jimin, stand up.”

Jimin does, allowing Taehyung to latch onto him, and thus is immediately suffocated by the weight of his friend. “Copy my lead, hyung.”

The following morning, Jin is as fiery as the breakfast he’s cooking up on his own, ranting to himself in pout while the three of you only watch on due to your shared lack of cooking skills, hungover and bundled up at the kitchen counter.

“Do you think yoga and meditation suit me as hobbies?” you ask the boys after you and Jin had explained how you came up with ‘the movie night to end all movie nights’ as Taehyung had labeled it.

“With your patience?” Jin scoffs, and you’re quick to shoot him a glare - it stung, perhaps more than it should've, so you quickly put the thought away. Nights alone and countless failed hobbies exhausted your patience, but he hadn't seen that... as you hoped. After all, Jin was always supportive and offered not only to stay the night prior, but also indirectly gave you one of the most memorable movie nights of your life with Taehyung. A soft glare was enough.

“That’s exactly what I mean! You need yoga and meditation, but can you do it? Sit still like that?" You open your mouth to argue but fail to do so at the sight of your shaking knees - he was right. "Oh, hey, you know who else can’t sit still?”

“Who?”

“Jungkookie. You seemed to get on with him, too, no? If you’re looking for something active, why don’t you let him teach you boxing?”

“We do pilates together too, twice a week, if that’s more your thing,” Jimin quickly adds, “You’re free to join us any time.”

“Yah, it’s not easy,” Taehyung jumps in, taking a bite of the breakfast that was now in front of him. “If you want to exercise your creative skills, which is a million times more fun, we can do a painting session together. Just for fun, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Jin says, pointing his hands in thanks towards Taehyung for echoing the words he'd spoken to you restlessly when you gave up origami and journaling. There had to have been some wisdom in the advice, you think, but your patience had been worn thin... how much more could one person try?

"She wants whatever she does to be ‘perfect’ at the very first attempt, but that’s impossible," Jin continues. "The only perfect thing in the world is her, but even she has to start as a beginner. That’s the point of hobbies - they don’t have to be perfect, you just need to enjoy them.”

“You called me perfect,” you blush, kissing Jin’s cheek. The reminder sufficed to get your legs to stop from beneath the kitchen table, now fiddling with the fabric of his hoodie. It was hard to envision being good enough or interesting, but at the very least, one person had seen you as such. Jin and his constant reminders were the only things that kept you from falling off the deep end... he never let you stray too far, even in your thoughts, nudging you towards Jimin when your head started to rest against his shoulder the way it always did when you needed reassurance.

“Pilates does sound interesting…” you mumble.

“Good!” Jimin cheers. “Tomorrow. You, me, Jungkookie.”

“Oh, but first,” you pause, holding Jin’s arm. His eyebrow is already raised, knowing you were about to tease him. “Are you sure it’s alright for me to go work out with your very fit and adorable young friends?”

“I am sure, brat,” Jin says, rolling his eyes before quickly whispering to Jimin, “Make sure Jungkookie keeps his shirt on.”

One pilates session with Jungkook and Jimin quickly turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into boxing sessions with Jungkook alone, regular morning jogs with Jimin, and a newfound love for fitness. Boxing made you feel stronger, and Jungkook’s thoughtful observations and comments were of more help and motivation than your now-shared instructor. And catching the sunrise at dawn really was as beautiful and as ‘worth it’ as the annoying health gurus claim to be, something you and Jimin begrudgingly admitted to.

Jin had been supportive as he always was.... up until the day you almost fainted, scolding Jungkook and Jimin for not being more careful of you and insisting you take a week-long break.

“But honey, I don’t want to stop so abruptly! I’m on a roll and I miss the boys already! And for the record, they are always so considerate. I messed up and did more than I should've, but I'm fine today!” you pout, laying on the couch with a hot compress on your core to relieve your soreness and snacking on a fruit bowl, as Jin instructed and prepared.

“My love, you’re exhausted. I don’t want to hear any more of it for at least five days….” he tuts, carefully placing kinesiology tape on your skin. “I hate seeing you this upset, though. You said you feel as though your brain ‘opened up’ when you began exercising, right? Well, why don’t you try exercising that beautiful brain? Take Taehyung up on his offer and take an art class together.”

So you do. Sandwiched between Taehyung and Jungkook at back-to-back painting sessions, you were inspired by their very different approaches to their shared hobby. Tae had his signature style that seemed to effortlessly flow out of him and onto the canvas every time, whereas Jungkook tried a different approach, concept, tool, or style at every session. Both boys seemed like natural talents, but you found peace and awe in Taehyung’s freedom of expression and especially Jungkook’s itch to learn and try new things so fearlessly time & time again...

It was hard to tell what you would create from session to session, slapping paint on a rough pencil sketch every time, but with every stroke of your paintbrush and conversation with the boys, you could breathe a little better...

“Ya, with all these colors… Is this what Namjoon-hyung calls ‘modern art’?” Jungkook teases, staring at your latest creation. You’re quick to poke him with the paintbrush for teasing you, and he’s quick to reassure you.

“It’s Pollock-y, dear Jungkookie the Artist Who Hates Learning Art History,” Taehyung explains. “It is art.”

to: my love [6:01pm]: hey, how’s the art class going? how are the boys?

to: prince charmjin [6:32pm]: good! we’re basically done!! we’re going out for dinner. jungkookie is hungry and i think I owe him for making him listen to my rant on the injustice women face and how society is built on misogyny

to: my love [6:34pm]: hehehe knowing jk, he was willingly listening, like i did. even he’d agree that you don’t him dinner. i made pasta at home..

to: prince charmjin [6:51pm]: aw :( we’re already at the steakhouse. maybe jk will be in the mood for pasta later too though

to: my love [7:01pm] have fun :)

to: prince charmjin [8:58pm] on my way home, honey. tae’s dropping me off. jungkook wanted to come but he’s asleep right beside me and he’s tae’s next stop.

to: my love [9:02pm]: good, they’re taking care of you just as i asked them to

to: prince charmjin [9:04pm]: they’re the bestest boys. i don’t need them to take care of me though. :3

“They’re my babies, and I love them,” you remark to Jin after showing him your latest creation, a matching one-of-three painted self-made pottery sculpture with the boys.

The younger boys were your safe space, he thought. Good. And… so am I.

“And I’m your biggest baby that you love the most,” Jin smiles, pouting his lips in want of a kiss. When you grant his wish, a feeling washes over him… one that he couldn’t help but identify as temporary. A seconds-lasting painkiller. “I guess you get the younger boys, and I get the older ones. I’m closer to them anyway. You’ve met them all, haven’t you? Namjoon and Yoongi? And Hobi, of course.”

“Hoseok is always here, Seokjin, so of course, but I think I’ve heard of Namjoon and Yoongi more times than I’ve actually seen or met them. Do they have any hobbies I can steal? The boys mentioned something about Namjoon and art?”

“Namjoon is art. In that he's beautiful and unbelievable, but also that he is interested in anything and everything art-related - museums, galleries, exhibitions, and all that crap. And fitness, so… there’s that,” Jin says, instantly regretting his words at the memory of Namjoon working out, grateful for remembering his friend’s most unenjoyable hobby to move on to. “Oh, he actually hikes! He meditates in the mountains like a wise old man afterwards. Hoseok likes dance, of course, but he also loves fashion. Yoongi likes fishing and drinking with me only,” Jin emphasizes, having always been proud and appreciative of the fact that he’d been the only one who was ever able to get Yoongi to join in on another’s hobby. “By himself, Yoongi plays basketball.... he’s studying, he plays tennis, fencing, he reads, produces, he scrapbooks, he gardens, he runs, he gardens, he flies, he soars! He actually might be Superman.”

You roll your eyes, prompting Jin to explain. “Sorry, inside joke with the boys. Yoongi does so much and is so secretive about it all that I wouldn’t be surprised if all of that is true. But he’d say he’s Batman rather than Superman, actually. I’m Superman… right?”

Jin places his hands on his hips, buffing out his chest and glancing at you through his periphery, hoping his extra hours at the tennis court paid off whenever you'd had an art or fitness session with the boys. He had to know if you saw him as such, as some type of Superman… especially after the countless times you’d trained with Jungkook and Jimin. Though he tried to push the thought away, the image bit at him, even now when was messing around. A seed of something he couldn't quite name...

When your hands are on his shoulders, trailing down his chest, he begins to relax. Even more so when you use his fork to finally take a bite of the dinner he’d prepared. Perhaps he’d been too worried.

“Well, we both know I don’t need saving, but I’ll play along, my handsome Superman. This Lois Lane wants to meet and investigate the interests of the rest of your Justice League, baby.”

“Okay,” Jin murmurs. “Who should we start with?”

“Namjoon? Hey, he’d probably be Aquaman, huh? Same nature shit, apparently, and definitely the same body.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been too worried.

to: prince charmjin [9:02am]: i am texting you from the beyond. from the spiritual realm.

to: prince charmjin [9:03am]: come climb up this fucking mountain and bury your girlfriend she’s dead and hates her life and didn’t pack enough water

to: prince charmjin [9:03am]: you’ll know the way, my blood, sweat, and tears left a trail

to: prince charmjin [9:04am]: i gotta admit it’s pretty tho (1 image attached)

Knew it.

Jin was rarely a smug man, but he couldn’t help but indulge in the feeling when he’d woken up to your texts and later when you trudged into the apartment, resigning from a hiking day with Namjoon and swearing you’d never do it again. He guessed you’d hate every second of it but didn’t want to hold you back from your mission and trying something new. His pride is quickly squashed, however, when you follow up the sentence with a declaration that he’d invited you to the opening of an art exhibit the very next day.

“I’m his VIP guest, honey,” you cheer, kissing Jin on the cheek. “And I’m going to the afterparty too so you can have a boy’s night - call your grandpa friends! Oh, it’ll be past their bedtime, won’t it?”

He forces a chuckle. “I hate that that’s true. Plus, I’ve seen way too many people this week, so I’ll game til the early hours of the day - just like I did when I was single.”

Jin hates that the thought had left his lips. It was honest, he had missed his gaming marathons when he never had someone to go to bed to, but it was cruel to mention. He hated the idea that some part of him meant it as such, as a signal, a cry, anything… you never said such words or guilted him when he’d been busy. It was spiteful, it wasn’t like him…. or was it?

“Oh, great! I know you used to love those game-a-thon things. I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t realize you stopped because of me. I hope you know you can do those at any time, okay? I won’t mind.”

Something turned in Jin’s stomach. The seed of what he could only label as worry was now an undeniable pit at his very core.

He should be ecstatic at the fact that you were so accepting of him possibly spending an ungodly amount of hours gaming… but it was too accepting. A smile was on your face, but for the first time in your relationship, Jin couldn’t read what it was - as though a sudden, unknown filter stood between you. Was it temptation? An unthinkable impulse he sensed on your end... Joy, relief, or freedom? Perhaps it was, Jin couldn't tell. It ate at him now, and instead of surrendering, he fought with what he had left.

This… this was the least he could do for you, he told himself, thinking of all the ways he came up short as a boyfriend where others succeeded.

He replayed the image over and over again - the way your eyes light up after every acquired skill or hobby. Your subsequent, beautiful smile seemed like the only thing he could hold on to, keeping aside the anxieties surrounding the reasons behind it. It had to be reminder enough. Seeing you happy made him happy. He knew that…. but he also knew that something dark festered within him. He didn’t like it… he didn’t like it all…

to: y/n [5:30pm] on my way home

to: y/n [5:35pm] just got here… where are you?

to: y/n [6:01pm] are you working out?

to: y/n [6:02pm] hey?

Jin needed to blow off some steam.

Gaming didn’t work. The incompetent online players he was paired with only infuriated him further, and the shot he took only made his heart race faster. He thought to spend some time in the kitchen, but he couldn’t help but overthink, indecisive over whether to cook dinner for the two of you or just for himself. When a thought came to mind - to cook something you’d hate just to spite you for not answering his texts and calls with no prior warning or explanation - he quickly discarded the whole idea. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A best friend would do, he figured.

When it came to opening up, he could only ever trust his younger friends - the ’grandpas’ as you liked to call them, often gave him outdated advice he never cared for. Plus, they didn’t know him like the boys did - since they now know you as well, Jin figured it was the best-case scenario. Surely, they’d have something to say.

But another hour passes, and still, none of Jin’s messages were seen or answered. The younger boys hadn’t answered when he’d asked if they knew of your whereabouts, and the older ones didn’t answer his calls or texts to talk. His skin began to crawl…

until he remembered the failsafe. Out of everyone, Hobi was the only person who still revealed his live location on a social media app to his friends. It was something Jin in particular scolded him for, knowing it was a safety breach, but now, he was thankful for it.

Of course, he’s still at the damn dance studio.

Is that…?

Chills shiver down Jin’s body the second he hears the music through the studio’s walls. It’s a song he knows too well… and so do you.

Following the music with long and forceful strides that echo through the corridors, Jin bursts open the door to Hoseok’s own practice room. And his stormy intrudance is proven to be justified.

In front of the mirror were you and Hoseok, dancing too close together to a song from Jin’s secret sex playlist, surrounded by the rest of the boys, watching closely and making teasing noises that shook his very core.

“YA!”

Jin’s voice booms throughout the spacious room, overtaking the loud music playing through every speaker. The group scatters, every person with a horrified look on their face…. yours hurt the most.

Rage was unfamiliar to Jin. He didn’t know what to do with it, feeling it then and there. One would normally shout or yell, question and guilt, as he’s seen and studied before… but his lips were frozen in a frown. He wondered if it was common for one to cry out of fury, though no tears streamed down his face… he knew how to hold them back. His senses confused him, distorted, forced to venture into uncharted territory. Jin could hear differing calls of “Hyung” and what must’ve been excuses as someone turned off the music - all muffled and intelligible. Through it all, he could hear only the soft call that left your lips amidst the chaos, “Jin, my love…”

With his eyes still fixated on you and the words that ease his sole, the knot within him came undone.

His throat throbs and everyone knew what it meant, though no one was close enough to see the pools in his eyes.

“Everyone leave,” you command, and the room is empty save for you and Jin within seconds.

The downpour starts. Though his face was frozen cold, Jin’s body allowed him to move, and all he could do was pace the studio and ignore your small steps toward him. When he finally stops, you’re close enough to stand before him, your head no longer hung so low. The guilt on your face was almost enough to make Jin forget his feelings.

“….I’m so sorry, my love,” you say after a moment’s silence. His lips tremble at the words, wanting to refute them… he doesn’t need to say it for you to understand.

His breath is hitched when he sees your hand extend towards his face, which he tilts just as he always would when you did this. He exhales as you do when you cup his face so gently, moving to your touch as his tears are wiped away. But when your hand brushes over his mouth, he can’t bring himself to purse his lips into a kiss as he always would. The dark seed within him still tugged him back from fully diving in.

“Sit for a moment?” you ask, and he nods, feeling his knees giving way as you lead him to the two weirdly placed chairs by the giant mirror wall in Hoseok’s studio. While you sit with your side to the back of the chair to face him better, he slumps against the hardwood backing, staring at the ceiling as his eyes dry up so he can finally face you once again.

“I can’t talk much. I.. what is this? What am I?” he mumbles with a strained voice, pushing the skin at his temples. “Fuck… I’ve tried rehearsing this, and even then, the words just didn't come out. I can't put a name on it, but I don’t like what’s been happening. All of it. No… No, not all of it.” Jin breathes deeply before continuing. “My girlfriend is never around, and not only that, she spends all her time with my best friends… without me. I know you’re on your journey for more self-discovery and that you really like the boys, so I feel like a piece of shit for feeling this way and for saying this, but… fuck, I’m... I'm angry.”

Jin sees you take in his words, brushing away a couple of runaway tears. “I understand. You have every right to be pissed,” you repeat. “I… shit, I’m sorry, Jin. I never meant to exclude you, my love. The boys don’t either… but that doesn't excuse it... It doesn't." You go stone cold, as though you were replaying the time that's passed over and over in your head. "Will you allow me to talk for a little while? Can I… unpack it all on my end?”

How could he not? Jin nods.

“I learned a whole lot on this 'quest’ which started with your support, I may add - and I’m not blaming you here. I’m thanking you, honey… You’ve been incredible.”

Already, Jin starts feeling sick, hearing the words of a definite breakup speech and knowing that he was the furthest thing from incredible. His friends were. All he can do is watch, now looking at his fingers as he bites his own nails on an unsteady hand.

"Most guys would never even suggest to their girlfriend the idea of her hanging out with his friends - alone. I'm so grateful, honey, and not only that, it actually might be one of the sweetest, most attractive things you've ever done..."

H-huh? Jin tugged at his own sweater, thinking of the possible ways you'd get to the end of your speech and the conclusion that stated what he ultimately feared - that the attraction, or worse, the love, wore off with all you were left with.

“But most of all, I'm grateful. I'm different. I probably wasn't around that much for you to see, but... on this quest, it was as though I unlocked parts of myself I didn't know I had. That was a past version of me, the girl who was in an eternal reading slump, and was too scared to do much else but stay in that slumpish cocoon... I love my cocoon and staying in, don't get me wrong, but I just have more things that give me joy. I feel more certain of myself - like more of that confidence you rubbed off on me. It seems trivial, I know, but everything... everything helped."

You were right. Jin hadn't seen any of it - the rewards of your quest. He cursed himself, knowing he could have if he only paid attention, recalling warped memories of your pride and new experiments. He didn't have to take your word for it, seeing some of it now. You were more sure of yourself. Bold. Happier. That one note settled it - if this grand speech were to end the way he had expected, all that mattered was that. That you were happier.

"That's good," he croaks. "I'm proud."

"I'm proud of myself, too," you nod. "I am the slightly more improved version of myself I knew I could be. Maybe I could be even better, I don't know... but through it all, I kept repeating to myself the same phrase, over and over again. 'You’re enough. You’re always more than enough. Just the way you are. You’re good. You’re great. You’re beautiful. I love you.' Those words... that's what kept me going more than anything."

Jin's breath is hitched when he's finally able to look at you so directly, at the woman he loved with his entire being, quoting his own words. He had meant every word then, prior, all throughout, and would for eternity. If those simple words were enough to help, though he was certain they were not enough to capture the depth of his love, he had served his purpose in life.

"I was entirely motivated by self-love and your love for me, Seokjinnie. I fucking love you," you exhale, and Jin does too, coming undone. All he could do was hang his head low as the tears instantly return, and in seconds, you're at his knees, reaching for him. Like he'd foolishly been dreaming of...

"I don't deserve you. I've been so... so..." his low voice trails off.

"My love, let me finish, hmm? It'll help," you whisper, trying to hold onto any piece of him, and Jin lets you, feeling a rush through his very soul at him being called as such by you. He just hoped he wasn't awaiting more cushioning for a devastating blow... even so, it was one he was now reminded to fight for.

"I have to talk about the boys. I obviously enjoy the hobbies I do with the baby boys - you remember when I told you how I love how strong I feel now? How I feel creative for the first time since high school? That holds up, and in truth, the boys are just angels. I developed such a close friendship with Jiminie, Taehyungie, and Jungkookie that I don't think I can let that go. I just adore them…. and so much so that I’ve been trying to set them up with the girls - Nana, Kiki, and Mina.”

A breath escapes Jin, his fingers stroking his chin. It made sense, he thought. Nana and Taehyung in particular would be perfect together…

“I know you’re closer with the older boys, and I haven’t forgotten them. Namjoon is very cool, but… pretty much none of what he likes works for me. Hiking is as bad as fishing, no offense, and art is only fun when we’re mindlessly having fun in the studio. Otherwise…” You scrunch your nose at the thought, shaking your head violently in disapproval - the endearing act that never fails to make him giggle, even now. “The only reason we keep in touch is to talk books, which… you know I’ve always liked,” you explain.

Jin nods. You and Namjoon’s reading speeds always made him feel like a third-grader. You’d sooner finish reading a 700-page book than learn how to make a simple grilled cheese sandwich - Namjoon was the same. In a world where most people were not as such, at least you two clumsy nerds know of each other, he thought.

“Dancing was… always on my list of things to try, believe it or not. You were there when I brought it up to Hoseok,” you recall the interaction you’d had weeks ago, and so does Jin, who had been so taken aback at your suggestion to Hoseok, having assumed you’d want fashion or social media advice from his savvy friend. You’d never danced sober more than simply swaying, even on the most private occasions… there was never any reason for him to know dancing was always a thing you’d wanted to try... but then again, perhaps the 'new you' had been buried too deeply. But it took guts to ask Hoseok - he knew you knew that as well - the sheer courage and confidence that must've settled in only recently….

“But…. I pretty much told him that I didn’t want him to teach me anymore after the first lesson. He’s like… really fucking scary, Jin, holy shit. I know you've mentioned it, but I didn’t think he was capable of being like that! I thought he was going to kill me!” Another giggle escapes him at your shock. If you had simply run the idea by him, he’d have told you that already, he thinks to himself, as he did after your hike with Namjoon, but he chooses to say it out loud this time. “Oh, lesson learned, believe me, honey. I passed it off as me wanting a female instructor, which I do. Because well….I couldn’t tell Hoseok I wanted to learn burlesque dancing now, could I?”

“Bur-burlesque?!” Jin says, leaning forward as if it’d make him hear any better.

“Mhmm….” The faint, smug smile on your face calmed his heart - it’d been a while since he’d seen you as such - but it did nothing to calm his mind. Just the mental image of you…. “And pole dancing too. I keep telling my instructor that I want to surprise my boyfriend, so she helped me come up with some choreography involving… things you like.”

Jin’s excitement fades when he remembers - the song. “Was that what you were showing the boys?! When I walked in….”

“As if. That’d be for your eyes only, honey. When you walked in, we were just teasing Jimin about something stupid. The song just came up on shuffle.”

Jin shakes his head and stands up to pace the room, replaying the scene once again and scolding himself. Once again, it’s as though you can read his thoughts. “It probably looked odd from your angle…”

“Why was everyone there? Wait, was that Yoongi in here too?” It’d taken Jin this long to realize Yoongi had been present as well. Save for the makeshift therapy session Jin had wanted to have earlier in the day, he had been trying to schedule appointments with Yoongi all week - a needed fishing trip and a work meeting, but his friend only ever answered when Jin had been fast asleep. Had Yoongi been here for Hoseok? Jimin?

“My day started with Yoongi,” you sigh.

You?! The one person who knew of his desperate attempts to get to Yoongi?! he thought, so shocked he had to sit down, opting for the space on the floor in front of you instead of the chair.

”No secrets, especially since I’m laying everything out today. It was my first time hanging out with Yoongi, just so you know. I wanted to pick out a good anniversary gift for you since that’s coming up, and we went shopping for all these fancy liquors. Then, he was just meant to drop me off here at the studio, and after my lesson, I found out he just stayed since Hoseokie was already here in the other room with Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. And Namjoon… he was just here, I guess. Actually, I think he’s hiding that he’s dating one of Hoseok’s dancers. The boys seemed to tease him about it?”

“Oh shit, good. He’s always had a crush on her,” Jin smiles to himself. It starts out as happiness for his dear friend, knowing how deeply Namjoon’s affections could run, and when the crush began. It was right at the start of Jin’s own relationship with you. At that time, for the first time in over a decade, Jin finally understood his friend. Namjoon loved love. He got so caught up in the idea and complexities of love, talking endlessly about how it’s the center of the universe, tying everything together. “It is science,” Jin would always rebuff until he couldn’t. Until he understood. He wasn't going to forget any of it again - not even for a second.

And once again, the woman he loved cups his face, searching his watery eyes, and kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"….Did you ever feel this way?"

You consider his words and think over yours. "Angry? A little jealous? ....Lonely? If that's what you've been feeling... Yes, sometimes."

“Then you don’t have to be sorry, my love. I’m sorry I got angry more than anything. I… didn’t like that. That wasn’t me…. was it?”

“Not the usual you, but it’s the human you. It’s within reason… I never saw you get jealous before, which is a green flag since I know you trust me - as you should! And I trust you! But still, as someone who gets jealous over you often… it weirdly reassured me, I guess? That you still want me.”

“…. Wait, you get this often?!” Jin blinks.

“Honey, I feel jealous whenever anyone follows their urge to say you’re handsome, which is very often. I always wish I could answer with ‘AND HE’S MINE’ and giggle like a little leprechaun who's hoarding a pot of gold all for himself,” you say with a tone so serious it makes Jin erupt in his signature dolphin-noise laugh for the first time that night.

“I’m always yours! And I always want you! Honey… this is a dark feeling. How do you deal with it often…. I… I never want to feel this way ever again,” he exhales, tugging on the fabric of your top before your hand covers his.

“I deal with it because you always remind me that you’re mine and I’m yours, like you did just now. Because you make sure I know you love me. I… I try. I promise I’ll try harder, my love.”

“No, honey, you do more than enough. I know you love me. I do. I was just… blinded, I guess, which I fucking hate. I… I thought I’d be stronger, better than to fall into this stupid mental rut.”

“You’re human. You’re my human,” you smile, hand slowly trailing down Jin’s cheek but lingering your touch over his pursed lips. Jin’s hands find your waist, and your arms immediately wrap themselves over his shoulders. When your racing hearts calm together in sync, and your breathing follows, the world falls into place and both of your meaningless defenses yield. Your bodies and spirits rest against one another, tired, aching, and longing. Jin wanted just this. To keep you close, for all eternity, if he could… if you’d wanted the same. He’s reassured when his attempt to tighten his embrace falls short, realizing how closely you’ve been holding him in turn. It was physically impossible to be any closer, and still, it wasn’t enough. Exhaling against you, with a hand somewhere in your hair at your back and the other holding your head, his senses overwhelm him once again. It’s too much, the love he’d felt at that moment. Dreamlike, even when he notices that his hand had been lying right over your bra strap. And he remembers even more.

“So… burlesque, huh?” Jin smirks.

“What do you think the chairs are here for?” Turning, Jin’s jaw drops when sees the two now-empty chairs. He tries to hide his excitement by covering his face when he sees you, sure it is red already.

“Oh, with a reaction like this, I’m definitely keeping it as a hobby then. I’m good at it too,” you smile, brushing his hair. “It’ll be good and all for you, baby. Painting random shit and fitness has been fun, especially with the younger ones, and burlesque will be for the both of us. But! My quest is not over, and my introverted self is not fulfilled just yet. I still have crocheting, writing, blogging, and photography to try out. I want something that’s entirely mine.”

“I promise that I support you with trust, love… always,” Jin thinks over his words, fidgeting with his fingers.

“And…I’m…..entirely yours,” he says quietly, a smile finally fixed on his face.

“And I’m yours,” you say with a smile, finally pulling Jin into a kiss that he can’t help but melt into. It’s soft, quick pecks and affectionate murmurs until you straddle his lap. Suddenly, it’s as though your entire mature conversation and successful attempt at communication never happened, and you replayed it all then and there. He reaches for you, pulling you down and onto him until you gasp. At that, Jin’s hand at your nape pushes you into his kiss, and you let him. He bites at your lower lip, moaning when you’re quick to do the same back, yet his sounds grow louder when he lets you passionately kiss him all over. In a fight for stability, he grabs onto the nearby chair and breaks away so suddenly.

“The - the damn boys are still here. I think I heard something break in the corridor - it’s either Namjoonie or Jiminie.”

You open your mouth to say something but don’t, looking at Jin instead. “If they’ve been trying to eavesdrop and want the gist of it, how would you like it if I fake moaned your name a bit too loudly so they know I’m yours and only yours?”

“It doesn’t have to be fake, though, does it?” he asks, leaning back on his elbows and lying in wait, positioned in front of the mirror. Seeing a turn in your gaze seconds before you pounce on top of him, Jin is electrified. Your name leaves his lips and his yours, not just as a moan but a promise. A quest of his own. To make you happier and happier for as long as he lived and more. To find a new way to love you every single day. You deserved as many as the universe had to offer.

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aeithalian · 5 months ago

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……you MUST know I want your director’s cut thoughts on a shard or two lol xoxo MJ/kiwiana-writes (my kingdom for asks from sideblogs)

OOOOH hehe hello MJ i keep seeing you pop up reccing a shard or two and just know that every time i see it, i send up a little prayer that your pillows are cold on both sides.

ANYWAYS (most of my followers on this blog aren't RWRB fans but who cares) a shard or two is definitely a weird fever dream of a fic. I read the entire book in like 24 hours (this was just before the movie came out, so less than a year ago) and I, having a strange interest in politics, was like 'hmm, you know what? not enough politics'. So now we have a shard or two. I've always had a interest in politics and I always felt weird about being that person who has a strange in-depth knowledge about the US government, but I think writing the fic helped me think about politics in less of a pessimistic way, like 'here's what I would want to see in modern-day politics'. It also kind of raises the philosophical question of how good people function in a corrupt system without being corrupted themselves, and Alex is such an interesting character to play with on that front because I view him as so idealistic that he refuses to be corrupted purely out of spite and stubbornness.

So, that's how it got started, I think. I told myself I wasn't going to start another WIP while I have one going for a different fandom, but here we are. I originally intended for it to be way shorter than it was (here I was thinking last October that 20k was an insane length for chapter 1, and then chapter 3 ended up being 100k all put together), but it's been such a fun passion project and a real stress-reliever for some reason, and a great way to develop my writing. Somebody in the comments asked me if I write professionally (I do not, and I likely never will, but I appreciate the sentiment).

As for director's commentary, I'm just spitballing here but I have so much fun stuff to share so here ya go.

I know there's this whole debate in the fandom about whether or not Alex goes into politics post-canon, like either go into local politics or start his own firm or whatever, and I generally don't see a lot of people saying that he would go into upper-level politics like he does in the fic. Very rarely do I see any post-canon fics that delve into what Alex's future career might look like if he ran for any office, so I kind of just did it myself, as one does. I do remember seeing CMQ say on their Instagram that Alex wouldn't run for president, but he might run for governor of Texas, but I kind of pulled a Harry Potter fandom and ignored the author (sorry not sorry), but I did make a reference to it early on in chapter 3 for anybody who's looking for any easter eggs). Regardless, it's very fun writing a Gen Z politician who gives no fucks (Alex is Gen Z, I'm taking no critiques on this). I'm so excited for people my age to start running for office. We're going to kill it, I feel it in my bones (you won't catch me up there, but maybe in some health policy behind-the-scenes work, who knows).

The names for the characters were a ton of fun to come up with, and I tweaked them all the time, but here are some tidbits behind some of them:

Edward McKinney's (opposed the amendment in chapter 2 and was Alex's opponent for the Democratic nomination in chapter 3) last name is a play on William McKinley (the 25th US president) to kind of bring this mindset to the table that McKinney is exactly who your stereotypical politician is who would run for president.

Pinkley's name is also a reference to Charles Pinckney, who ran for president in 1804 and 1808 as a Federalist. For no particular reason. I was just having fun with it.

Treacher's name actually comes from the word 'treacherous' because I originally intended for him to be way more of a villain than he ended up being, because I thought it would be interesting to have a political opponent who isn't necessarily an enemy.

Aksel Wolter's (the guy who overthrew my man Onderburg for the Baltonian presidency) name was originally going to be Signe Wolter, but then I saw a cool TikTok that compared some enemies throughout history and saw how similar their names were (George Washington & King George, Jesus & Judas, Obama & Osama, etc.) so I thought it would be cool to have an Alex and an Axel, but the spelling was too similar so that's how we ended up with Aksel because that's also a way it's spelled in northern Europe.

Erik Onderburg's (you know who he is, RIP 😈) original name was Henrik, and that got all the way into the published version of chapter 2 (he's mentioned towards the end), and then when I was writing the first scene of chapter 3 and realized that Henrik and Henry were way too similar, I had to change it.

Ellie (full name Elena) is named after Ellen, with a bit of a Hispanic twist. I think Alex and Henry's deal was if they had a girl, they'd name her after Ellen, and if they had a boy, they'd name him after Arthur. I like to think the middle name would have been Orion either way.

Hunter Weaver (the in-universe replacement of Anderson Cooper) has nothing to do with WASPY Hunter. That was a total coincidence and completely unintentional. But, hey, if you want to believe they're the same person, go for it.

All the research in there is legit! Wikipedia has been a fucking godsend for election results and facts about government structures outside of the US, but it kind of sucks trying to relay stuff into two decades in the future. You never know what kinds of issues are going to be important in 20 years, so I actually kind of avoided that problem by just relating it to some of our current issues today: queer rights, specifically in trans communities, election fraud, 3rd party candidates, human rights issues (ikyk) and so on. And the makeup of NATO, the UN, G20, etc. haven't changed because I can't see into the future.

I also had to do a surprising amount of math? Trying to figure out dates and stuff was way more difficult than I anticipated, especially for election results and percentages, but I realized I really don't need to pull out my TI-84 calculator for a fucking fanfic, but I'm also terrified of the prospect that somebody will correct me on any of my math or research so the calculator stays. It makes for some funny moments, though, like when I realized that if Alex actually ran in the 2040, he would really have Teddy Roosevelt beat for the post of 'youngest president' by, no joke, 3 weeks. So that's kind of fun (and how I firmly decided to have that be the timeline of things).

I write most of the speeches the characters give myself, but I use chat gpt to get me started sometimes (the product is always pretty bland, so it's really just a reference for structure), but I use real-life speeches for reference too. For example (and a bit of a sneak peek), in chapter 4, Alex is giving a speech to the UN General Assembly, and I lifted a couple phrases directly from one of Obama's speeches.

Writing this fic on google docs was a terrible decision. When i was writing chapter 3, the entire word count was well over 160k and the software was getting so laggy every time I needed to control f something for reference. So chapter 4 and beyond is currently being written in a new google doc. Speaking of which, having to switch all my formatting over onto ao3 with chapters this long is a pain in the ass. 0/10 do not recommend having to go through each chapter and fix the formatting every time just because I wanted to have fun little article inserts.

I was going to make it smutty and then i chickened out. i deeply apologize for my cowardice (i've never done smut before).

I guess if you want a couple sneak peeks for chapter 4, I can do that too 😜

If this next chapter had a motto, it would be "every president has their tragedy". Yes, that should probably scare you. (honestly, I'm a little nervous to write it too, just because I know it's pretty dark but hey, if Disney can show Mulan killing 2,000 Huns in an animated children's movie, then I can tag this as mature and not be worried about traumatizing people, okay?)

If it had a theme song, it might be 'Fourth of July' by Sufjan Stevens or 'Abstract (Psychopomp)' by Hozier. (Don't be scared, you'll be fine, because if the chapter after that had a theme song, it would be 'Dog Days are Over' by Florence and the Machine)

So, all the chapters are titled with 5 stages of career development (completely arbitrary, I worked off Indeed's for a while and then I said 'fuck it'). Stage 1 was Establishment, stage 2 was Maintenance, stage 3 (spanning ch. 3 and 4 on ao3) was Advancement. So stage 4 (ch. 5 on ao3) will be Obstruction, so take that how you will. But stage 5 (ch. 6 on ao3) will be Resolution, so that should make you feel better. They're sister chapters, so although the conflict itself is resolved in chapter 4, the lasting changes and long-term effects of that conflict will be mostly featured in chapter 5 (which, honestly, is the one I'm most excited to write because I feel like it's that moment when Alex really grows into himself).

And a little fun knowledge just for you: there's actually going to be a stage 6 (ch. 7, on ao3). I was going to surprise readers by adding on a chapter after I publish stage 5 with a 'psych! you thought this was over, suckers'. Stage 6 is titled 'Reflection', so I'm planning for it to be about how Alex leaves office dealing with the idea of his own legacy and accomplishments (but as I teased in Stage 3, he won't actually be 'done').

I think that's all I've got in me. Chapter 4 is in the works, but it's taking way longer than I'd like (I've only just started part 1 😬) since I started a new job that's kind of sucking the life out of me. I'm very excited to share it, though! I'll be sad when it's over (maybe I'll do a missing moments oneshot series after, who knows).

director's cut ask game

#directors cut ask #ask #ask meme response #a shard or two

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burning-fcols · 9 months ago

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"So you're saying this is my fault?" ( -yeets a Travis over for Angel- ) - ✧ ˖ ˙ 「 @Qᴜᴇꜱᴛɪᴏɴᴀʙʟᴇᴍᴜꜱᴇꜱ 」 ˙ ˖ ✧

「 ☆ 」 Ever since his stalker-turned-director showed up, Angel's been even more on-edge in the studio than usual. A feat he had previously thought impossible. But lo-and-behold, Travis managed to add an extra layer of complication to an already uncomfortable situation. By some marvel, he's avoided Valentino learning about his... previous connection with the crewmember ( Angel vowing to never again try to earn some quick cash that Val can't snatch out of his hands by merit of ❛ owner's fee ❜ ... or at least hope for a less intense John ) but that's of little comfort right now.

If they can't get this stupid shoot back on track, the moth is going to want everyone's head on a silver platter. Regardless of who is to blame, ANYONE is free game when he's throwing one of his fits. Is that concern a bit melodramatic? Perhaps... But so is Val. With everything going wrong from extras messing up their cues, to technical issues, to wardrobe malfunctions— the star's maid outfit torn too early thanks to snagging on some prop furniture —it'll be a miracle if the movie gets filmed by the end of the night, let alone within the timeframe Valentino request... and he's not one for running behind schedule.

Normally, Angel wouldn't cause waves with the Director, no matter how poorly things are going. Refraining from pissing off the guy in charge is one of the few things that can help a day go by faster. But this isn't a ❛ Director ❜ yet. This is fucking Travis. Angel just hopes the other doesn't realize the power he technically yields. Not until Angel has gotten a few more days of ❛ brattiness ❜ in before he starts actually being reprimanded for it. Bitching at Travis is proving to be a good source of stress relief.

❝ Uh— Yeah. I am. ❞ Angel snappily responds, a hand sharply motioning at the shit-show behind him as crew-mates run around to try and figure out the latest electrical mishap. Lights flashing and sound distorted, it looks more like a rave than the spicy scenario meant to be implied. ❝ This set is a fuckin' joke an' when Val gets here, he ain't gonna be laughin'. ❞ Flinching at the sound of a nearby crash, Angel doesn't bother to look and see what it was. He doesn't want to know.

Growling as he shuts his eyes, fur bristles and lip upturns in an annoyed snarl. Fists clenched at his sides to keep from trembling with unease, he abruptly leans into Travis's space. Jabbing a finger into the shorter man's chest, he emphasizes his words, ❝ You wanted ta be th' Directa'. So start Directin'. 'Cause if these clowns can't get their act togetha', it's gonna ber YER ASS gettin' heat fer it. ❞

Praying the other buys the semi-bluff— Angel more concerned about what methods of relieving his frustrations Val might indulge in if things aren't straightened out —he moves even closer, face inches away from the others ( taking the opportunity to intrude upon someone's space rather than the other way around ) ❝ So how 'bout you stop dickin' around an' do yer job so I can do MINE. ❞

And Travis can watch to his heart's content... the sick fuck. 「 ☆ 」

#hari don't look #(( *THROWS a brat onto dash* ))#burning-fcols #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴛʀᴀ; ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust IC 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴠᴇ ᴍʏ ꜱᴏᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʀɴ; ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ❞ ◌ ᴍᴀɪɴ ¦ 「 Angel Dust 」#questionablemuses #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪᴛ’ꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴᴅʀᴇꜱꜱ ʀᴇʜᴇᴀʀꜱᴀʟ ❞ ¦ 「 Travis 」#♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʏᴏᴜʀ ꜱᴄᴇɴᴇ’ꜱ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ; ɪ ᴅᴏ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ’ʀᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴀʀ ❞ ¦ 「 Angel Dust and Travis 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ꜱᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱʙᴇʜᴀᴠᴇ? ɪᴛ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇꜱ ❞ ¦ 「 Answer 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇʙᴏᴅʏ ɢᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ— ❞ ¦ 「 Queue 」

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g0blinwitch · 2 years ago

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Winner Takes It All

Even after all's been said and done, there's still a small, ugly part of Hunter that misses his uncle

Ao3

Ever since the Boiling Isles became free of the blight that was Emperor Belos, Hunter could honestly say that life was pretty good(not that it was going particularly well a few years ago). He had an apprenticeship with Dell that was going great, living with Darius and Eberwolf was much less stressful than living in the Emperor’s Coven, plus his relationship with Willow had been doing good. All in all, Hunter should be happy…but there was this feeling in the back of his chest. One that he wished he could just crumple into a little ball and throw into the ocean. One that still missed his uncle.

Hunter still very much disliked Emperor Belos. It took years before he could even think of him without feeling sick to his stomach, and during the early phases of rebuilding the Boiling Isles, Hunter avoided any broken statues of his uncle like the Plague. Just making eye contact with them made his knees lock and his breathing quicken. He hated it, and he hated Belos. He tried to kill all of the Boiling Isles, he killed Flapjack. And yet, there was still a very ugly part of Hunter that wanted to see his uncle again.

When Hunter first heard the news from Luz that Belos was gone, this time for good, he nearly fainted in relief. He was pretty sure the only thing that kept him upright at that moment was the hug he got from Gus and Willow as they cheered in excitement. It wasn’t until later that Luz told him exactly what happened when they fought Emperor Belos, how the only reason they had the power to defeat him was because Luz died and met the Titan after The Collector’s failed attempt at forgiving Belos almost got him killed. How it got Luz killed. Hunter gave her a hug and ignored the part of him disappointed that The Collector’s plan didn’t work.

Hunter still has no clue what he would have done if Belos hadn’t died. Ended up alive but remorseful of all the harm he caused. All he knows is that he would only feel comfortable if they were on opposite ends of the Titan, and even then that would be too close for comfort. Sometimes after finishing carving a palisman, that ugly part of him wants to run up to his uncle to show him what he did, to see his eyes sparkle in approval. For him to gently put his hand on Hunter’s shoulder and say how proud of him he is. Waffles usually notices and pulls him out of his head when he starts thinking like that with a chirp and a gentle tug to his hair(once or twice now she’s had to fly over and get Dell’s help).

That ugly part of him is like an annoying roommate, one he can never quite shake. It used to be louder, when he first escaped the Emperor's Coven, demanding that he run back to his Uncle and beg for forgiveness. That his uncle wouldn’t really hurt him and Flapjack. That this was all one big, sick, misunderstanding. That ugly part of him quieted down significantly after Flapjack died. Where it once was like an erratic drum that pounded in his ears, it was now a sour violin note that occasionally teared through a once pleasant breeze. It was a cut that never quite healed, no matter how much he tried.

Once, Hunter had asked Amity if she ever missed her mom. She said no. He had sputtered out an apology for bringing it up and had begun to walk away when she said something else. That sometimes Emeira gets this look in her eye when she looks at a photo she keeps under her bed of Her, Edric, a baby Amity, and their parents together. That night as he lay awake in bed, Waffles snuggled next to him, Hunter wondered why his talk with Amity made him feel so relieved.

This was one of my shorter fics, so I figured I might as well upload it to Tumblr as well ya know? Hope you enjoyed reading!

#the owl house #toh #hunter #toh hunter #emperor belos #toh emperor belos #amity blight #luz nodeda #toh luz #fanfic #cross posted on ao3

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blood-and-wine-ao3 · 3 months ago

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Chapter 8 link!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48321235/chapters/147228001

A tattoo artist and his stressed father started walking out of the parlor, the avian priest nervous and twitchy, and the human artist masking his anxiety with an awful poker face.

"Tom? Everything okay?" Aimsey's voice rose from their station, worried tones threading their voice for the second day in a row.

"Yeah, fine, be back later," Tommy replied, but Aimsey didn't quite miss the shake in his voice.

"Y'know, if you need anything, anything at all, I'm down the phone and down the road,"

"I know. Thank you, Aims."

Tommy opened the door, pushing it for Phil to catch as he stepped into the street again. His body buzzed with nervous energy, the painted grin on his lips starting to fade.

"Tom, what's wrong?" Phil pressed as they began walking through the streets. "Clem's fine, isn't she?"

"Clem's fine."

"Tubbo?"

"Fine,"

"Bill?"

"Fine,"

"Niki."

"We both know what you want to ask."

The silence stretched between them, the sounds of the city doing nothing to relieve the pressure.

It felt like years passed until Tommy caught sight of someone with bright pink hair and it spurred his mind into speaking.

"How's, uh, how's Techno nowadays, Dad?"

"He's fine. Me and your mum talked to him yesterday, actually. He's really enjoying the Arctic."

"I'm glad, he deserves to be happy."

The pair of blondes turned a corner, walking towards a park as silence once again stretched its limbs as the third person walking with them.

"....This isn't the way to your place."

"Got a new place," Tommy huffed, opening the gate and again pushing it for Phil to catch.

He focused on his pace, left, right, left, avoid the dog shit, left, right, left.

"Toms, are you sure we can't talk about this here?" the priest asked, stress punctuating each syllable of his sentence.

"I'm sure. We don't want- people might hear," the artist cut himself off, trying to be as vague as possible in reassuring his father.

Right, left, tree root, left, right.

"Tommy, you're scaring me," Phil sped up a bit, walking alongside his son rather than trailing behind. "Seriously, you're freaking me out here-"

"Just wait until we're at mine. Please. Then ask as much as you want."

"Alright, I trust you."

Tommy tried to swallow the lump in his throat, lost in his thoughts as he walked.

He really should tell Phil before they got there. What if he reported them?

He's their father, he deserves to know before it hits him in the face. How are you supposed to break this to someone gently?

Empty Coke can. Left. Right. Left. Right.

"Tom? We're at the end of the park."

"Right. Okay. Come on."

Tommy took the lead again, trying to create some kind of confidence, to still his shaking hands, to quiet his worried breathing, to soothe his stinging eyes.

Again, they drop into a strange city silence, distant beeping cars and nearby avian wingbeats forming the backdrop for the duo's worried thoughts.

"TOMMY! I've been looking for you for so long and it was raining and I hid in a bus stop and Wilbur's breathing all funny and you need to-" The distant, familiar voice of a mottled moth drew closer, cutting herself off when she saw Phil.

"Why's Phil here? Tommy? What's going on?" Clementine asked, her usually upbeat voice solemn and stressed.

"Gods, why the fuck is everyone asking me what's happening all the fucking time? I'm not fucking Big Brother, I can't see everything constantly! Can you both just shut the fuck up for 3 seconds while I sort my own head out before I deal with yours?" The boy snapped, spinning on his heel and facing the moth and the man.

Hurt and worry painted creases across Phil's face, Clem's antennae perked in shock. Greeted with Tommy's face twisted by anger and fear, the three fell into stunned silence.

After an eternity passed in a second, the shorter blonde turned again and started walking, pacing quickly to the point Phil was near-jogging to keep up.

They streaked down streets and darted down alleys, eventually arriving at Tommy's dilapidated apartment building.

Tommy fumbled with his pockets, purposefully letting the keycard slip through his fingers.

Delaying the inevitable.

"That was- bad of me. Sorry." He stammered, his hands shaking so much he wasn't sure if he was fumbling the keys on purpose anymore.

"Should I- should I fly up? To check on Wil-"

"Please don't." Tommy said out loud. "You're going to- both of you are going to need me."

He grabbed the keycard, turning again. Clem had perched on Phil's hat, antennae drooping, and the man's expression was the same as before.

"Tom? Your hands are shaking," he pointed out, fidgeting with his rings.

"Yeah, I know. I just- Please don't call the ISAM," He looked down at his shoes, gripping the card with a white-knuckled grip.

"Tommy. Why the fuck would I be calling the ISAM. Do you have a fucking unexploded bomb in your bedroom?"

"No! No." He turned around again, tapping the card on the terminal and opening the door to the building.

They stepped in, each step suddenly an uphill battle, as the emotional concrete of Tommy's regrets filled his shoes and slowed his steps.

Between the thump of the men's steps, it was so quiet you could hear Clementine flutter her wing, all three terrified to make a sound.

Tommy's eyes burned as they walked up to the lift, pressing the call button with shaking hands. Phil faltered in his steps, unsure about what had made Tommy so scared.

The lift rattled open. As usual, it smelled like piss and mould, but Tommy wasn't sure if he could take the extra time up the stairs. The last thing he wanted was a breakdown on the stairwell. They walked into the lift, Phil tensing his wings off the ground and bunching them up so they didn't touch the walls, floor, or ceiling of the metal box.

Tommy didn't blame him.

He pressed the fourth floor button, and the lift doors closed. It started its ascent to the nightmare above, all three beings in the slightly rusty box questioning why they were going into the apartment.

After a small eternity passed, the lift shuddered to a halt, and the door bing-ed open, with Tommy and Phil stepping out of it as soon as they could.

To Tommy's resigned dismay, the door to Apartment 418 was parallel to the lift. He grabbed his keys, jingling in his trembling hands, and stepped across the hallway, taking a deep breath.

He opened the door, beckoning for Phil to enter. Clementine alighted from Phil's hat, fluttering through the apartment to stand on her vivarium, and Phil walked in, giving Tommy a look.

Tommy left the door open behind them, letting out a shaky breath as he slipped off his shoes.

"Dad? Would you mind taking your shoes off?" he muttered, his voice tiny and barely audible.

"Oh, yeah, of course-" Phil replied, taking off his sandals and placing them next to Tommy's. He took off his hat, placing it on the coffee table. "Isn't that Wil's rule? Normally you don't care."

"Yeah, but it'd make him happy."

"Where is Wilbur, anyway? Isn't he at work?"

"He's started taking night shifts," Tommy murmured. "Dad, sit down. Make yourself comfortable. Clem, stay where you are."

"Tommy, what's wrong?"

"Wil was on his way home from work about a week ago. I can't remember exactly, everything's a blur-" he choked back the lump in his throat, his eyes flooding with tears, threatening to spill.

"Tom," Phil asked gently, "Is Wilbur okay?"

He let out a sob, hot salt streaking down his face as Phil tensed.

The priest stood up, wordlessly crossing the rest of the apartment.

"No, Dad wait, let me-"

Phil opened the bedroom door, freezing in his tracks.

#ao3 #blood and wine ao3 #c!crimeboys #c!tommy #c!wilbur #dsmp ao3 #dsmp crimeboys #dsmp tommy #dsmp #dsmp wilbur

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2023-records · 2 years ago

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Day 6 __ Fri Jan 6

Wellp, got out of bed at 10:30am instead of 9am to walk Mai and feed her, but she tends to enjoy staying in bed in the mornings. So I don't feel as bad. Worked out last night from 9:30pm-12am. Surprisingly, there were still a good amount of people at the gym. I noticed that people in San Leandro tend to hit the gym later during after-work hours. SJ and Fremont 24s' peak hours usually start around 4pm, but San Leandro's peak hours are around 5/6pm.

Today I actually cooked all of my carrots, mushrooms, and bokchoy! Chopped some purple onion and a ton of garlic. I sauteed everything separately and then mixed in oyster sauce, pepper, soy sauce, and sesame oil. Some bomb stuff but I may have put too much sesame oil. A couple hours after eating, my stomach was going crazy. If someone stood next to me, they would hear the rumbling start from my mid-stomach to my butt. I basically had the shits again and pooped in my bathroom. Why do I have to have stomach digestive problems right before a tournament?! Hopefully, I'll be fine by tomorrow since we make our drive at 8am. I'm bringing my Tums everywhere I go now.

Mai and I went on a shorter distance walk this morning since she was spooked by the wind. She couldn't seem to shake the fear so I stopped the walk short and we headed back. As soon as we got back, she fell asleep. That might have been a stress-relieving sleep. While she slept, I turned on a wind video on YouTube so that she can slowly get desensitized. Poor baby, but she'll get over it in no time!

I need to pack LOL It's currently 8:15pm. I should probably shower by 10pm and sleep no later than midnight. That'll still give me enough sleep, but I can always sleep on the ride down to Socal. I'm pretty excited to be playing in a tournament out of town, but I feel slightly concerned about the socializing aspect with my team coordinator. I still can't tell if she likes me or not... Or maybe she doesn't know if I like her? I guess I always felt like I didn't want to get to know her since she never really trusted me to be on the starting lineup against good teams. I would play but against weaker teams and it didn't really make me feel good whenever I made points since they felt too easy. This time around, with 7 players on the team, I will get playing time the entire time. This way, I can showcase my all-around skills and prove that I can be a reliable starter.

A huge part of me wants to drink Saturday just because I haven't seen my teammates since September. However, I already know that that would be an irresponsible idea as it would affect my playing the next morning. I shall hold myself to only 2 beers or seltzers early on in the day. I bought magnesium pills from Costco to see if that would help with my frequent cramping during tournaments. I'll also be pairing this with LiquidIV and carbohydrate + potassium-filled snacks. If magnesium is the key to my cramping, I will be so ecstatic since I had been dreading the cramps days before tournaments.

Mikel and I Facetimed again today! Day 2! We've agreed to try to Facetime every day since I had been feeling down on myself lately. Maybe this feeling came from having to watch Shumai misbehave so often during the day, that I need to see something that makes me happy and feel at ease: Mikel. Typing this out now made me realize that when you surround yourself with something negative, your mentality develops that negativity. In this case, it's Shumai's misbehaving that really affects me since I like to see quick changes in action. A few weeks ago I changed my mentality and became more patient with doggo. We were making progress, however, I could feel how every Thursday I resume taking care of Mai (day after Youki watches Shumai), Shumai reverts back to her bad habits. In a way, I've kind of given up trying my hardest to train Mai because in the end, she's not really my dog and I'm just watching over her for Youki. Thinking deeper, I probably won't want to move in with her if she buys a house soon. Hopefully after this next coaching season, she will rethink freeing up her work schedule in order to take care of Shumai more often. Eventually, I will need more time to study.

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mackenzielovee · 3 years ago

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my girl (part 4) - rafe cameron

a/n: SURPRISE! I wrote a part 4 ;) i had this idea right after i said i was only doing 3 parts - but this really is the final one! I really hope ya'll enjoy. It's a little shorter than the rest! (not my gif)

Summary: Nope sorry you have to read!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, kissing, and test anxiety

Word Count: 4.4k

series masterlist

my writing

Your phone buzzing on your nightstand distracts you get again from cramming for your Chemistry final. The exam happens in two days, yet you feel like it might as well be in two hours with the amount of anxiety you have. It's your second year of college, and boy, it hasn't gotten any easier. Thankfully, your roommate is out for the night so you have your entire dorm to yourself to study.

You lean over and check your phone. Another missed call from your fiancee, Rafe. Beside your phone on your nightstand sits your engagement ring. You stare at it for a moment and swallow your feelings, then move back over to your chemistry textbook. Your phone buzzes again - a voicemail from Rafe this time, which you don't bother to listen to.

Chemistry is your focus tonight. Chemistry is what you need to be studying for, what you need to know inside and out. You throw yourself back into it, shutting off your phone when it buzzes yet again. You need absolutely zero distractions.

About twenty minutes into it, you hear a loud knock on the door. You sigh, figuring your roommate forgot her ID or keys again. You pull open the door and sigh, fully shocked when you find Rafe standing at your door. He's out of breath from running inside from the parking lot, and he looks pissed off.

"Oh, good, you're alive," he snaps, pushing his way into your room before you can even invite him.

"What are you doing here?" you ask him, closing the door so none of your nosy neighbors can listen to yet another argument between the two of you.

Things haven't been good. You're sick of him calling and texting you all the time, him begging you to come home, and constantly asking who you're with when you go out. On top of all of that, your classes this semester are harder than they've ever been, but Rafe never respects when you say you need space and time to study.

"Checking to see if my fucking fiancee is breathing!" he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, "I mean, shit, Y/N, I called you, like, twenty times."

You glance over to the nightstand at your phone, realizing your ring was over there, too. You know he won't like that.

"I shut my phone off. I really need to study, Rafe," you tell him, but he's not listening.

Instead, he collapses onto your bed and puts his head in his hands, sitting directly on your Chem textbook and notes.

"Oh, my God, what the hell? Get up," you snap at him, walking over and pushing him off so he doesn't ruin your notes or textbook pages.

"It's fucking fine," he replies as he stands, barely glancing at your papers.

"No, it's not. I need this shit to pass my exam-" you hold the wrinkled papers up.

"They're literally fine, Y/N," his voice raises, "Stop being so dramatic."

You take a deep breath before you speak again, knowing whatever comes out will not be very nice. You've really been trying to be patient with him, but it's getting harder and harder.

"I'm not being dramatic, Rafe," you say calmly, "I just really need to study and I need peace and quiet."

He sighs and rubs the back of his neck as he debates what to say next. Neither of you want to start a fight, but you both have a lot of shit to say. His eye catches the shiny object on the nightstand and he looks over, figuring out it's your engagement ring.

"What the fuck?" he gasps, picking it up and holding it out to you, "Since when do you take this off?"

You put your hands on your forehead and sigh, realizing this is going to take up a lot of time that you don't have. And the fact that Rafe drove eight hours on a whim because you didn't pick up his calls all day has made you crazy.

"I cannot do this with you right now," you tell him, stepping toward your Chemistry stuff.

You'll just have to go to the library and study if he's going to be here. There's no way you can get any of your shit done with him bitching about your ring.

"Oh, my bad, when can you do it, then?" he rolls his eyes, "Huh? Can you give me, like, a window of time where you're actually available to talk?"

"Rafe-" you start, but he holds his hand up.

"No, because, I mean, I don't hear from you all day, and I'm fucking worried about you, so I make the long ass drive to come check on my soon-to-be wife, and now I'm the bad guy? Yeah, no, I get it now!" he exclaims.

"Jesus, okay, I have to go," you say, grabbing your backpack from the floor and sliding some slippers on.

"Right, to study," he grumbles.

"Yeah, to study," you snap back, "Just because you didn't go to school doesn't mean you can't at least try to understand!"

You rarely raise your voice at him, so Rafe knows you're mad. He stares at you for a second, deciding if he should acknowledge your comment about him not attending school.

"It's not about whether or not I understand, it's about time management," he lectures, making you roll your eyes, "Don't roll your fucking eyes at me."

"Don't show up at my dorm unannounced!" you yell back.

"I wouldn't have been unannounced if you would answer your goddamn phone!"

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, then step closer to the door. Rafe walks over to you and grabs your arm, spinning you around. You stare up at him like he's crazy, he's never laid a hand on you like that before.

"Put your ring back on," he demands, holding it out in his hand.

"What the fuck is your problem, Rafe? You think I'm gonna get hit on walking to the damn library? Get a grip," you mutter, trying to yank your arm from his grasp but failing.

"I'm not playing," he tells you, holding the ring up in his other hand.

"Neither am I," you snap, "Let go of me."

He stares at you for another few seconds and then releases you, groaning loudly when he does. He steps away from you and runs his hand through his hair, then sets your ring back down on the nightstand.

"What's going on with us?" he grumbles, sitting down on your bed again.

You start to feel bad as you look at him, so you step closer and set your books down on you desk. You open your mouth to speak, to apologize and return your ring to your finger, when he speaks out again.

"Why didn't you answer the fucking phone when I called?"

You close your mouth quickly, swallowing the words you were about to say. You stare at him for a moment, then you decide that it's just best to tell him the absolute, stone cold truth.

"Because I have shit going on, Rafe. I have a Chem final in two days and I'm not at all prepared, I have other finals and an entire paper due by the end of the week, and I have you up my ass about everything in between and it's just a little overwhelming right now."

He brings his head out of his hands and looks up at you. His expression changes from hurt to angry in about one second, so you brace yourself.

"So what do you want me to do to help you, then?" he asks, his voice agitated. You can tell he's trying to be patient, but he really wants to yell.

"I just need you to give me some space right now," you state.

He nods his head, moving his eyes away from yours and down to the floor.

"Space," he repeats, "You want space."

You nod your head slowly, afraid now to speak. You can't tell what his reaction is about to be, but obviously it isn't going to be a good one.

"So, you ignore my phone calls," he holds up one finger, "You take off your engagement ring," another finger, "And now you want space. Do you think I'm a fucking moron?"

He stands up off the bed, now towering over you. Your hands come up to your face, rubbing your eyes to try and relieve some form of stress.

"God, Rafe, you're making this out to be something it's not-"

"Am I?" he shouts, "Do you want to marry me or not? I mean, I really think that's what this boils down to. Am I what you want, or not?"

His yelling combined with your stress and confusion makes you yell back at him.

"I don't know!"

He steps back, almost like you've hurt him, and stares at you with a look you've never seen before. It's anger, betrayal, confusion, and sadness all rolled into one, heartbroken expression. It makes your stomach turn thinking about the fact that you're hurting him.

"Well, there it is," he says, his voice cracking, "I'll just get out of your way, then."

He leans down and grabs the ring from your nightstand, wrapping his large hand around it and then stepping toward the door.

"Rafe, wait," you say, "Where are you going to go? You can't drive home in the dark."

He doesn't turn around, he can't look at you. Not when you're not sure what you want.

"I'll sleep in the truck," he says, his voice weak and quiet.

"No," you protest, "Rafe, I'm sorry."

He stands there for a few seconds, then turns, and you see the tears in his eyes. One has fallen, and rests on the bottom of his cheek. He wipes it away, but not quick enough.

"Why are you sorry? I'm not what you want anymore," he laughs, but nothing is funny.

Another tear falls and you step forward quickly, reaching up to wipe it away. He closes his eyes under your touch, always loving feeling your skin on his.

"I didn't say that," you say gently, tears welling in your eyes from seeing him like this.

"Just..." he trails off, finally opening his red eyes, "Go ace your Chem final. I'll see you at home in a few days."

He reaches up and grabs your hand, removing it from his cheek. He lays a quick kiss on your knuckles, then closes his eyes again when he lets go of you. Not sure if it's his last time feeling you.

He turns to leave, opening the door up before he turns back to you.

"I love you. I always will."

He doesn't wait for your response, he just closes the door behind him. You turn and look at the nightstand where your ring once sat, wishing to God that it was still there. You want to tun after him, but you know you can't. You two just need some cooling off time, you tell yourself. You'll come back again atfer finals when you get home for Christmas break. He'll hold onto your ring for you, you convince yourself of that.

You can't focus. The next day, you spend all your time in the library, staring at a page in your Chem textbook, and all you can focus on is your empty finger. No pretty ring that reflects every ounce of Rafe's love for you. You check your phone, but all you see is an empty screen. Your wallpaper is a cheesy picture of Rafe holding a wine glass. You took it on your anniversary last year and love everything about it, especially his cheesy grin.

Tears start to form in your eyes, so you do what you have to do. You call him. It rings and rings and rings, then you hear his familiar, raspy voice on his voicemail.

Yo, it's Rafe. Leave a message and I might hit you back.

You close your eyes, those two sentences being the most you've heard from him in almost twenty-four hours.

"Hey," you start your message, "Look, I'm sorry about last night. I really want to talk. Please call me back. Love you, bye."

You sigh and hang up the phone, then look down to your book again. You try and try to focus, but you can't. It just is impossible with everything spinning around your brain. You can still see the look on his face when you said you weren't sure, you can still hear him say 'I love you' right before he left.

And it's all you want to hear again.

You slam your book shut and grab your stuff, then make your way out of the library. Once you get outside, you call Rafe again. You hear the same ringing and the same message from his voicemail, so you leave another.

"Baby, please call me. I'm worried about you. I just want us to talk. Please call. I love you."

You hang up and walk back to your dorm, checking every five seconds to see if he's called you back. You really just want to hear his voice, to apologize, and to be able to focus on Chemistry again. Knowing that Rafe is out there hurting is just too distracting.

You call hm again after you get back to your dorm, giving him about thirty minutes to call back before you try him again. When he doesn't answer, you leave another message.

"Hey," you say, your voice sounding more desperate, "I'm going to call Dad and have him come get me. I'm skipping out on my Chem final. I just want to come home and work things out with you. Call me, please. Love you."

And you mean every word. You sit down on your bed and you remember how Rafe had helped you move in on your first day of freshman year. You remember how he made love to you and how he proposed to you in the parking lot before he left. And you remember all the times he came to visit and you two laid in bed and planned out your whole wedding reception together, laughing and joking about who to invite and who to sit together.

As you sit there and remember it all, remember the kisses and the laughs and the feelings you have when you're with him, you've never been more sure in your life. It's Rafe. It will always be Rafe.

You hear a knock on your dorm room door and hop out of bed, rushing over to it. It's him, you hope. Coming to rescue you, coming to hold you, coming to give you your ring back. You pull open the door with a big smile, only to find your roommate, Alex, standing on the other side.

"Hey," she says, looking confused at why you opened the door like that, "Sorry. I forgot my keys."

You drop your shoulders and nod, moving her out of the way. She leaves the door open as she moves over to her side of the room to search for them. You sit back down on your bed, checking your phone once again. He has to call back eventually.

"You're not ditching your Chemistry final."

You look up and see him, standing in the doorway, staring at you. His eyes are tired, his hair is a mess, and he looks like he's hung over. You don't even want to know where the hell he's been for the past day.

"Rafe," you breathe, hopping up from your bed.

You want to throw your arms around him, hug him, and have you hold him. He stops you when you get close to him, holding out his hand to keep distance between the two of you, which practically breaks your heart in two.

"You're not coming home until you take that test," he repeats, "You've been studying for it and if you don't take it, you fail. So, you're staying. I called your dad."

You frown. This is not how you imagined it. He seems colder somehow.

"Okay," you say, "Fine. But I want us to talk."

Rafe shakes his head, leaning against the doorframe. Alex walks up behind you, whispering she will be back later, and leaves with a quick smile to Rafe.

"I'm giving you your space so you can focus. We'll work on us when you're done with the semester."

He sounds firm, but you know you can win this one. You step forward, so close that he can almost feel your skin on his. Your scent fills the air, and you watch as he swallows his feelings.

"Rafe," you say, your voice soft, "I can't focus on anything knowing that I hurt you. I need to talk about us and figure things out. Please."

"Baby," he sighs, and you know you've won just by the return of your nickname. It's your favorite, which is why he calls you it so often.

"Please," you say, taking his hand. Your fingers wrap through his, pulling him inside.

He groans but enters anyway, both of you knowing that he would do anything for you. The door closes behind him, which you're thankful for. You sit him down on your bed and instantly crawl onto his lap, not caring if that's what he wants or not. That's what you need. Your head buries into his chest and your arms wrap around his neck.

"Baby," he says again, this time with more authority.

You bring your lips up to his neck to soften him up, listening to the small moans that come out of his mouth as you work.

"Rafe," you say against his skin, "I'm so sorry for what I said yesterday."

He hums, so you give him a few more kisses on his neck before you pull back to look at him. He stares at you with soft eyes, and you know you've already won him over. But you still need to say what you need to say.

"Truly, baby. I was wrong. I was angry. You are all I want in this world and I couldn't handle any of this without you. I was acting extremely ungrateful and I'm really, really sorry," you continue, watching him smile sadly at you.

"Well," he smirks, moving his hands from your back down to your butt, "I've always known you're a brat, so."

"Hey," you pretend to pout, but really, you just want a kiss. He gives you a slow, gentle one, one that makes you want to melt into him.

"You are the love of my life," he says, "You could never say anything to make me walk. And I'm sorry for being such a dick yesterday and for not respecting your school. I'm gonna get better. This shit is just hard for me, having you all the way here. I just miss you when I'm home."

You nod, reaching up and brushing his hair away from his eyes with your fingers. Even when he hasn't showered, is in the same clothes as yesterday, hasn't styled his hair or even slept well, he still is the most handsome to you.

"I understand. I'm sorry for being so hard on you," you say, kissing him on the cheek.

He smiles against your lips, bringing his hands up to your face to move you down to his lips.

"Are we okay?" he asks you in between kisses.

You hum against his lips, and he takes that as a yes, so he flips you over and lays down on top of you, kissing you like his life depends on it. He quickly moves down to your neck, his hands going underneath your shirt.

"Oh, my God, I missed you, baby," he tells you as you feel him leaving a hickey on your neck.

"Always marking me up," you laugh at him, feeling him smirk against you, "I missed you, too."

"It killed me not calling you back," he continues against your neck, "But I wanted to do right by you, you know?"

You gasp when he bites you slightly, then laugh when you feel his big grin on your neck.

"That's why I love you the way I do," you say sweetly.

He sits up and looks down at you, smirking widely, "Can you love me like you do right now and then get back to your studying?"

You bite your lip and nod, pulling him back down on top of you.

A little while later, you and Rafe lay naked in your bed, just breathing in the other. Rafe is drawing hearts into the skin on your stomach, leaving little kisses every so often on any inch of skin he could reach with his mouth.

"You need to get back to studying," he says, but doesn't stop with his kisses.

"Can I have my ring back first?"

He looks up at you with wide eyes, wondering if you really mean it. He didn't want to bring up the ring, just in case you had changed your mind about the engagement.

"You sure?" he asks quietly.

You grab his chin and pull him up to you, stroking his hair as you give him a couple quick kisses.

"I've never been more sure of anything," you tell him.

He nods and kisses you again, then hops off the bed and pulls the ring out of the zipped up pocket of his shorts. He grins at you and then jumps back in bed, of course landing on you when he does.

"This is a twin bed, you ogre. You can't be jumping and shit, there's not enough room for you!" you say as you try to free your left side from underneath him.

He moves and lets you get situated, then holds out the ring. You hold up your left hand for him ti put it on you once again.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, and you would've laughed at him if his voice wasn't so gentle and nervous.

"Of course I will, Rafe Cameron," you tell him, smiling.

He slides your ring back on your finger and you somehow feel more complete, more whole, knowing it's there.

"It's never coming off again," you tell him, meaning it.

He kisses you softly, "No, it's not."

Rafe takes a shower and then hangs out on your bed on his phone later on to keep himself occupied while you study for Chem at your desk. You ask him to quiz you and he does, even though he knows nothing about Chemistry.

It gets late, so you tell him you'll study the rest tomorrow and hope to be prepared the following day for the exam. You put your book and notes on your desk, then slide into bed with Rafe, who you made stay with you tonight. Although it didn't take much convincing.

"I can't believe your dad is just letting you take all this time off," you mumble against his chest.

"Hmm," Rafe hums, so you know you're wrong, "I've kinda been dodging his calls."

"He'll be mad," you tell him, and he nods.

"I don't care, though. I got what I came here for."

You spend all day the next day studying in the library for Chem and writing your paper, while Rafe packs your things for you. He figures it's one less thing for you to worry about, and then you can just come with him after you finish your exam. He had told you he wanted to be the one to bring you, his soon-to-be wife, home.

Rafe waits for you outside your building on exam day. One by one, students file out of the building, and he gets even more anxious every time you aren't one of them. Eventually, he stops pacing and sits down on a bench, praying that you do well.

He sees you emerge from the building with only ten minutes to spare, and jumps up to greet you.

"So?" he asks, his voice hopeful.

"I won't know for a few days," you tell him, "But I'm confident. I felt like I had most of it under control."

He smiles, taking your hand in his and kissing it, "I'm so proud of you, baby."

You smile and thank him, then put your head on his chest in hopes that he'll wrap his arms around you. With the amount of stress you've been under the past few days, all you want is just for him to hold you right now.

"I'm so proud of you," he repeats, swallowing you up in his arms.

You breathe in his scent and relax, knowing that even if you fail every class you ever take for the rest of your life, you will always have a place in the arms of this boy.

After a few minutes, you move to look up at him by resting your chin on his sternum, staring up at him. He smiles down at you, running a hand through your hair as an attempt to calm you down.

"Take me home, Rafe," you tell him quietly, and he nods.

He reaches down and takes your hand, leading you away from the building. You two go back and grab the remaining items you need to bring home, the rest Rafe already packed in the truck, and then go out to the parking lot to head home.

You feel relieved, ready to spend some quality time with Rafe and really make sure to work on things so that nothing ever gets bad between the two of you again.

He puts you into the truck and closes your door, then hops into the driver's side. He reaches over and takes your hand, staring at the ring on your finger and smiling softly.

"Let's just elope and get it over with," he looks up at you, already laughing because he knows you'll never agree.

"Yeah, I'm glad our wedding is something you just wanna get over with," you roll your eyes, but can't help your smile.

"You know what I mean," Rafe groans, "We don't need all the bullshit and the drama. I just need you. And a minister."

You laugh at him and nod, understanding what he means. He looks down at your hand in his, at the diamond on your finger, and so do you. You honestly can't remember why you took it off, you just know you never will again.

"A small wedding it is," you whisper.

He leans over and gives you a kiss. Then another. Then another. He pulls away and starts the truck, then looks back over a you.

"Baby, I'll do whatever you want."

That sentence combined with the cheesy smile he gives you afterward is what convinces you that, no matter what, Rafe will always be yours, and you will always be his.

Tags: @cmrxac

#drew starkey #rafe fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe #rafe imagine #rafe x y/n #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe x reader #outerbanks rafe #outer banks netflix #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #outerbanks netflix

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thetinypsychologist · 4 years ago

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MOTIVATION VS SELF-DISCIPLINE

When studying, most people try to find motivation thinking that this will get them through their study session, or they will see their failure as a result of a lack of motivation. But motivation isn’t always what we need - what do you do on the days you have no motivation? This is why we need self-discipline.

MOTIVATION VS SELF DISCIPLINE

Motivation - a willingness to do something. It is the set of psychological forces that compel you to take action. A goal or reward that you look forward to that will encourage you to study - while this is useful, what happens on a day when you just don’t feel like studying?

Self-Discipline - making yourself do things you know you should do when you don’t want to. Being trained to routinely study regardless of how unmotivated you are - this is what will get you out of bed on a day you don’t feel like studying.

So if motivation is ‘why we should do something’ - self-discipline is more ‘what to do next’.

HOW TO BE SELF-DISCIPLINED

Make a commitment with yourself that you will make studying as your habit. This is super important. Commit yourself to make this as your new habit. Don’t half-ass any of these suggestions or any other suggestions that other people give. Don’t give yourself silly, illegitimate excuses in the process. For this, you can do it by remind yourself on what your long-term goals in life are. Or if they don’t sound rewarding enough, remind yourself what failure feels like/ could feel like.

Set yourself a routine and stick to it

Never have a zero day - 10 minutes is better than nothing!! Do flashcards from your bed or watch youtube ted talks if you can’t physically study. This will help help develop a routine and make it easier for you to cope. Also, by studying everyday your brain will know that the content you are learning should be stored as long-term information so this will benefit you in the long run! However I do want to stress not to force yourself if you don’t have the capacity / energy for it. Take care of yourself too.

Avoid long breaks. Unless you know that taking an hour long break means only an hour, then you can ignore this. But fo the majority of us, once we’ve taken a while out of studying it can be hard to get back into it again. One minute you’re taking a 20 minute break for a snack and some phone time and the next thing you know you’re on Youtube and four hours have passed! To avoid this, try stick to shorter breaks - five or ten minutes for a snack break, toilet break and to check any phone messages. A good method to try for this is the Pomodoro Method!

Build on your productivity, not your failures.

If you come from a past of procrastinating and now feel motivated to change and discipline yourself, do NOT try to do everything at once. Start things slow and in steps.

Set yourself smaller deadlines for your goals like monthly and weekly deadlines - e.g. if you are doing a project, due 27th June, set personal deadlines, like have the introduction written by the 8th, have your literature review written by the 15th, have project complete by the 25th.

Break down the things that you must do into smaller, concrete activities and put those smaller activities in that to-do list; allocate specific time periods to do each smaller activities and put it the to-do list as well; set an alarm reminder for each smaller activities. Say you have to study for English on Tuesday, because for whatever reasons you just decided to dedicate your time this Tuesday to study English. However, I’d suggest that you break down that specific activity (or “daily goal”) before putting it in your to-do list. So, instead of just putting “study for Physics”, try putting “read and highlight Chapter 9″, because putting very general/broad activity like “study English” can actually make you too confused on where and how to start doing it, and make you very prone to distractions in the process.

Know your limits. Self-discipline isn’t doing as much as you can until you break - it’s about having control, knowing what you can realistically manage and getting that done.

Give yourself rewards! I love to have something to look forward to as I get work done! This means mixing motivation and self-discipline. I tell myself after this lecture I can have an animal crossing break or check some messages etc.

Track your progress – don’t forget to put a checklist on your to-do list after accomplishing a task. It would relieve your stress a bit and motivate you to continue doing the remaining activities on your to-do list.

Remove distractions from your study space! Personally, if my phone is out and I notice a notification…I’m gonna check it. It’s human nature! So to combat this, I use apps like Forest that force me to stay within the app while I study. If I know I might get hungry during a study session I’ll keep a little snack by my desk so I don’t have to get up and somehow find something else to distract me.

Just do it isn’t that easy. I find to get myself in a ‘work boss’ mood I need to feel good about myself so I put on a nice outfit and maybe some eyeliner and hype myself up so I know I can do my tasks and get stuff done! It feels so much better than lazing in my pyjamas trying to study.

Be patient. It’s going to be a rough journey, it’s going to be hard but you’ve got this! Take it one step at a time. Start off by completing one task a day, then move to two, then three, and the next thing you know, you’ll have a regular routine where you will constantly be ticking off your to-do list everyday! But remember to be kind to yourself, know when your body is not in the right state of health to study and don’t force it. Only force yourself to a limit, you’ll know when to stop and that’s okay. Just try again when you feel better! Your health is much more important!

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wind-becomes-lightning · 2 years ago

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Three of us.

Last day of Kakashi week! I can't believe with all thats been going on that I actually made it through all of them. Sorry for the spam it won't happen again for a while.

Modern AU

Hatake Kakashi x Uchiha Obito x Nohara Rin

just fluff.

2106 words.

Ao3 link [x]

for @kakashiweek 2022 Day 8: Family.

After half a year abroad Kakashi finally returns home.

When the seatbelt sign came back on the last time before landing, Kakashi was completely exhausted and ready to get out of this half uncomfortable seat he had been sitting in for the last twelve or so hours. The humming of the machine working to keep the metal bird afloat was by now burning in his ears and the first effect that it had, which was to make him sleep, had worn off quick enough. He was tired of being tired now, he wanted to arrive.

He was relieved that the signs were coming back on finally, that the cabin crew was announcing their descent soon. It had been too long. He needed feet on solid ground.

It wasn’t only the lack of sleep or the bad food or the uncomfortable seat that made Kakashi wish he was already out of this plane, it was also the people waiting for him at the other side of the security gate, right behind that sliding door he by now knew so very well. Only good things were behind that door, them sliding open being comparable to the sun coming out on a cloudy day. Kakashi was tired and annoyed in front of the door and happy and content as soon as he was behind it.

Rin would be there, wide smile and a little bouncy on her feet and jump up to let her arms fall around his neck, so she could pull him down to her height and tell him how much she had missed him. Then Obito would step forward from behind her, leave a hand on Kakashi’s hair, maybe take his hand and squeeze it. He wasn’t as publicly affectionate as Rin was, but he often had a weird quip on his lips that he would be just too willing to share.

Then Kakashi would step back from them, look them up and down. Rin’s hair was sometimes shorter length, sometimes shorter than her ears, depending on her mood and how the hospital was stressing her out. Kakashi always commented on how pretty she looked no matter how she wore her hair.

Obito’s hair was always the same, black and wild at the top of his head, so Kakashi would usually quip right back that he wasn’t sleeping enough. Obito had chronically black rings under his dark eyes that made the scars on the right side of his face seem even deeper than they were.

According to ritual, Kakashi would then sigh and say that they both looked like they didn’t have a decent meal in weeks, upon which Rin would hug him again and tell him she was happy he was back, if only for a little while. Once they got home, they’d order food home and lay in bed together until they were sick of each other.

It was always the same. Kakashi liked it this way.

Their relationship arrangement might have been straight out of a tv show and was always a little weird to explain to others that didn’t know them too well. It was the three of them, even if Obito and Rin lived alone most of the year with Kakashi away, it was still and had always been, the three of them together.

Back in high school they’d been good friends, with some added on love circles that could have rivalled the romance novels Kakashi liked reading. Obito had a crush on Rin, Rin had a crush on Kakashi, Kakashi had a crush on Obito. Round and round they went, nobody ever loosening the stalemate that they had unconsciously created for themselves until Obito had found it in himself to admit that he was in love with Kakashi too.

“I love both of you, I think.” He had said. Kakashi, at first unnerved by this, had just raised a brow. “That’s impossible.”

Obito had stomped his feet. “I am, though. I feel exactly the same about both of you.”

And then: “Do you think there is a way I could date both of you?” He was red in his face from chin to the tip of his ears. At that time Kakashi’s frown had deepened almost immediately. He couldn’t imagine then that dating two people at the same time would even work out.

Still, after another session of deep discussions, they decided to try it out. Rin was somehow interested in Obito too and Kakashi had never objected to hanging out with Rin, finding her opinions very insightful and hands pleasantly soft. And so their future together slowly unfurled by each other’s side.

In school, they rarely did couple-stuff. Some stolen kisses behind bookshelves and holding hands under the table if no one was looking. Explaining how they were all a couple when they were, in fact, not a couple, was just too much, so they decided to keep this pocket of happiness for themselves. They kept meeting in private, getting to know each other from head to two, never apart, always the three of them.

University education brought them the possibility of being a little more free with their relationship, since none of them went exactly to the same one. Tokyo was a big city to be in and while Rin wanted to become a doctor, Obito studied management while Kakashi was trying to get a degree in education with focus on foreign language teaching. None of them were even on the same campus, so when they were out in public it was rare that they met classmates who might have run their mouths.

Their lives together were going well and harmonious, well, apart from Obito’s and Kakashi’s occasional loving argument that Rin was all too happy to let them fight out on their own, and they were well headed into adulthood together, when Kakashi was offered the job position of his lifetime - halfway across the world.

He had always studied education with a specialisation that would help him work abroad if he wanted to. Kakashi was smart in school, grades better than even Rin’s and definitely better than Obito’s and as such the idea of spending a few years out of Asia, didn’t seem so bad to him.

So when his professor offered him a position to live and work in a new country each year, teaching the children of embassy employees in that country as well as selective native children in Japanese language, culture and English if necessary, his first instinct was to decline, of all things.

Away for so long? The possibility of only being at home every half year or so for a week and then after a year for a month while he was being moved to a different country? It was too much, he could not do that to Rin and Obito. He could not do it to himself.

“You should go”. Rin had said it so distinctly right after Kakashi had finished explaining what had been offered to him. “Seriously. That’s what you were waiting for, wasn’t it?”

Helplessly Kakashi had stared at Obito and hoped for more support that, judging by the shaking head, he wasn’t getting: “I agree. You should go.”

First Kakashi was irritated by how quickly his partner’s were ready to see him off and his irritation turned into anger. “You don’t want me here anymore, huh? Have decided to get rid of me.”

He would never forget how hurt the look in Rin’s eyes was. How he regretted that anger.

In the end, they worked through it, like they always did, as three together. Obviously Kakashi had been wrong and while Obito and Rin supported his moving plans, they were both struggling with that decision. One night when Rin was already peacefully sleeping on Obito’s chest, the man turned to Kakashi, leaned their heads together and whispered: “Part of me wants to tell you to stay. But I can’t do that.”

They all cried at the airport when Kakashi left for Brazil, his first destination. Kakashi did not care that people were staring when he kissed both of them, when he told them he loved both. He was leaving for five months at least, nobody could take this from him.

Sometimes in movies or books or Kakashi’s favourite novels, long distance was glorified with longing and letter writing or “my moon and your moon are the same, just look at it and see me,” poetic nonsense. In reality, it was a lot of time zone calculating, messages while someone was sleeping, and bad quality video chats. But Kakashi got through it. Rin and Obito turned out to be masterfully skilled at keeping him in the loop with long text messages and floods of pictures.

From Brazil he had gone on to Canada and then to Denmark where he was now coming from. The three years had been quite the experience, not only for him professionally, but also in their little relationship. Rin had become a full time doctor, Obito had started working at a firm called Akatsuki that overworked him, but didn’t take away his time from acting like a clown if he wanted to.

Kakashi was a good cook, which meant when he was at home, that one month or so a year, Rin and Obito would have a list ready for him to make them. Over the last years they had learned to cook this and that themselves, sometimes calling Kakashi up in the middle of the night for SOS, but they were still thankful for him to do it once he was there in person.

And he loved cooking for them. They started bouncing like excited children when he did. He loved them like that.

The plane shook a little through the gushes of wind as it made its descent back to the main island. Kakashi watched the ocean from the window. There seemed to be a storm going on, but he was not worried. He knew he was almost back where he belonged.

For good, this time.

While his world travelling had been very interesting and he had seen, met and talked to many interesting and new people, he had decided that he had collected enough career points to now move on from it. Surely is accelations would let him teach at any prestigious school in Tokyo that he wanted to go to and while the next position in Australia had sounded very enticing too, he had declined in favour of going home fully.

“I miss my family too much,” he had said and ignored the follow up question by his supervisor along the lines of “Aren’t you an orphan?” He was, yes, but he had a family anyway. The only family that mattered to him, even if he weren’t the orphan he was.

He hadn’t told them that yet though. Kakashi had decided to surprise them with this news in person. Thinking about their faces as he told them got him even more excited than he already was just from knowing he’d see them.

***

Kakashi took a deep breath and stared at the sliding door in front of him. He pulled at the medical mask he had been wearing during his flight and let it snap back in position. He grinned underneath, his heart beating strong against his ribcage.

Then he moved a step forward, and the doors slid open.

It took him maybe five steps before a pair of slender arms wrapped themselves around him. “Kakashi!” Rin pulled at him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Rin.” He said softly.

He felt Obito’s rough fingers reaching out for his and he took the other man's hand without letting go of Rin. His eyes found Obito’s and they smiled at each other. “My god, you look like shit, do they not know what a shower is in Europe?” Obito said and winked. Kakashi squeezed his fingers until he yelped.

Rin finally let go of him and stepped next to Obito. Her hair was shoulder length now and she had gone back to wearing violet eye shadow. Obito’s hair on the other hand had grown out and the wild black of his head now almost looked like a lion’s mane. They both looked so good that Kakashi got the urge to pull them in again, but first, the ritual.

“You guys look like you’ve not had a decent meal for months.” He said, as always. “You know you shouldn’t rely on fast food all the time.”

They fell into each other’s arms again. Kakashi felt so happy to be with them again, his family, his home.

He promised to himself that he would never leave them for so long again. Ever.

#fanfiction things #hatake kakashi #obkkrin #kakaobirin #uchiha obito #nohara rin #kakashi week 2022 #kakashiweek2022

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limitlessgojo · 4 years ago

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Going to a Private Onsen with Gojo

NSFW Gojo Satoru x F!Reader, established relationship

Type: One shot. This is around almost 4k words.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW content, Voyeurism, exhibitionism, daddy kink, squirting, overstimulation, praising, dom!Gojo, breeding kink, slightly manipulative/ Yandere Gojo, degradation

Notes: finally got to finish this fic, my motivation just dropped halfway lmao. The inn house has rooms with private hot springs. Not shared like the communal ones in public bath houses. This is half fluff half smut.

The private hot springs per room are separated by bamboo trees and wooden walls. (With holes. So you know what's gonna go down👀💦💦💦)

You and Satoru finally get the chance to have a 2 day 1 night short break from work. He takes you to an inn, checking in a tatami room with a private hot spring (onsen) included. The place smelled fresh, and you could smell the flowers outside.

"We can see the hot springs from here love. What do you think? It's gorgeous isn't it?" Satoru wiggled his eyebrows at you. You both set your luggage down, making yourselves at home. The sun is still high up, it is only 2:00pm and the hot spring is steaming, the sunlight making the water shine and glitter.

"It's not bad at all; the room is quite big as well." You smiled. Despite knowing that you're only stroking his ego, you let it go for once. Just this once because it is a special break after all. He internally pats himself on the back, beaming at you. “Glad you like it. Let’s take a walk around the area and then come back for dinner.”

“Fine with me”. Both of you changed into traditional clothing first. Gojo into a Yukata and you into your kimono. He helped you tie your obi and do your hair up. "Look how pretty my kitten is." He practically purred out as he cinched your waist beneath his large hands. His hands felt like fire on your waist.

You flushed, softly calling out his name. "N-not now." You stared at his profile. All lean and muscular. Knowing his physique hidden under the blue fabric did nothing to help.

"Not now." He agreed. But the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Still he held himself back.

So you both set out, exploring the town. The stalls were bustling with people. You both bought souvenirs for the students as well as omamori (charms) for various purposes.

You visited the temple and just tried to relieve the pent up stress from the last few weeks. “The air is so cool and it smells really nice here.” The flowers were all in bloom, as it was spring as of now. Satoru, however, kept his eyes on you for most of the time instead of the scenery around him.

“Yeah, it’s real pretty isn’t it? Wanna take some photos?”

“Good idea! I need a new lock screen pic of us Toru!” you smiled. Your smile unfortunately dimmed upon noticing other women staring at Satoru and batting their eyelashes at him (ignoring the fact that you were right beside him).

You’ve always known that he was a gorgeous person, just thanking your lucky stars that he actually came around to reciprocate your feelings. “Hey”, Satoru cupped your face and turned it to face him. He was pouting. “Focus on me love. This trip is just for us.”

You gave him a weak smile. “Yeah, sorry about that. AH! I wanna have a picture by that Sakura tree~”. You tried to be more enthusiastic and engaging, blocking out any jealous and negative thoughts.

Seriously, it's not like you didn't trust him. Just that your insecurity gets to you sometimes. You quickly bat the thoughts away. Your thoughts came to a halt when you felt something soft on the corner of your lips.

"Love you." Satoru murmured against your cheek. You turned to see his eyes under his drooping sunglasses just an inch away from yours. You couldn't help but sigh in admiration. Of course he knows how you feel. "I love you more Toruu~ Now let's go." You gave him a genuine and bright smile. Walking over to a shaded area near the lake, surrounded by tall grass.

He leaned down to press his cheek against the top of your head and placed one arm around you. His other hand was holding up his phone for a selfie. After you took some pretty and funny photos, he surprised you by bringing out a polaroid.

"Eh?! Since when did you bring that with you?" You asked him. Satoru gave a sneaky smirk, "Well. Since you talked non stop about loving the vintage aesthetic recently, I thought it would be good to make a small scrapbook or photo album of this trip."

".... who are you and what have you done with my husband..."

"Hey! That's rude. I'm always nice and sweet." He pouted and widened his eyes, using a finger to push down his shades. "I knowww~ Just kidding Toru, I love your ideas. I'll help you with it then."

"Of course you will pumpkin." He squeezed you against his side, not caring about anyone who might be looking at both of you being overly affectionate in public.

He took pictures using the polaroid camera every now and then. Taking your hand and leading you around, Satoru did not give your thoughts a chance to move away from him. He didn't hesitate to tickle you when your guard was down and poked at your cheeks with the most annoying grin.

After that it was just you and him. Enjoying your precious time together, undisturbed by anyone else. By the time the sun was setting, you dragged him over to an Izakaya. "Should we have dinner here?" You asked him.

"Ooooh! Looks like they have good meat and eel. That's fine with me." He replied. You both enjoyed dinner and had a bit of sake. Satoru always looked cute with flushed red cheeks and that big stupid smile of his. "Well you look cuter than me for once Hun." He quipped back.

You smiled as you wiped that teriyaki sauce off the corner of his mouth for him. It was a really peaceful day.

Walking back to the inn, you noticed a shadow moving quickly just by the corner of your eye. This is why you don't think about work during your free time. Feeling chills run up your spine, you turned to see a curse, staring straight back at you. "Ah shit I left my sword back in the inn."

Not even having finished your sentence, you watched as Satoru flicked his wrist and took down the 2nd grade curse in an instant. "I told you not to worry darling. I'm not going to let anything hurt you." He tutted and booped your nose playfully, eyes shining.

"Heehh~" you pretended not to be impressed but by the look on his face, you knew you didn't do a good job of hiding it. He just chuckled and wrapped his arms around you. "Toru I can't walk like this."

It was like trying to lug a 190cm tall clingy infant. "I'll protect you with my infinity from all sides love." He looked really happy, just prancing around with you in his arms as you both made your way back to the inn.

💜💜💜

You both settled back in and got ready to take a bath. It was a really good day and everything went smoother than you thought it would, knowing your chaotic and unorthodox doof of a husband.

"Dinner was so good. This was a great idea Toru, thank you." You smiled up at him. He smiled back, so soft and gentle with you. The way he never is and never will be with anyone else.

"Now then, I'll be taking my payment from you." You looked up at him, confusion evident on your face. Your husband of 5 years still confuses you until this day. "I'm sorry?" you felt affronted as you asked the question. You had no problem paying your share of the bills, heck you earn a lot as a 1st grade Jujutsu sorcerer yourself.

But Satoru spent about over a month pestering you about wanting to treat you to a short staycation with him. "Yes", he replied slowly making his way towards you, towering over your shorter frame. You stood your ground and craned to look up at him.

"Thank you for the meal sweetheart. You will be my dessert." He removed his glasses and threw them aside to showcase his bright blue eyes. You shivered from the intensity, and his lips turned up in a smirk. His words were somewhat funny, but his tone was dead serious.

He wasted no time, leaning down to suck down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, after he pulled one side of your kimono off your shoulder. "Sa-Satoru!!, hah- ", his grip on you was way too tight.

"Baby, I am so sorry I can't wait any longer. Won't you be good for me?" Satoru asked as he took a step back and cupped your cheeks in his hands.

It's true that this man has no self-control, always palming your ass down the hallways at Tokyo Jujutsu High. But you rarely see him as desperate as he is now, that it was actually endearing to you. So you relented, earning a grin from the man.

He helped you out of your kimono, littering small kisses on your forehead and cheeks, before he started biting on one ear.

Unclasping your bra, he reached down to grope your breasts. You stared at him as he suckled on one nipple while toying with the other. His eyes opened to meet yours, and you could feel the growing wetness between your legs.

You also reached up to pull his Yukata off, undoing the tie on his waist. "I love it when you hair is done up darling. I can bite as much of your neck as I want." He growled out against your shoulder, biting and sucking wherever he can.

Your mouth watered upon seeing the outline of his hard-on straining against his boxers. On the other hand, Satoru stared unashamedly as you pulled down your panties, keeping your legs together to keep your slick from dripping down your legs.

Impatiently, you reached up and ran your fingers through his locks. "Satoru~" you whined. He only smirked in response. In one quick movement, he gathered you into his arms and brought you over to the small washing area with the soap and shower-head.

He was still in his boxers however. You just stared at it, drawing closer to press your hand and rub the outline. He let out a long moan, which led to you to quickly look up and snap out a hush. "The neighbours might hear us Toru." You whined.

"Tch, Let them hear. They can't touch or experience us anyways. And I want to show off my lovely little wife." He leered down at you, finally removing his wet boxers and throwing it onto the ground.

His hard cock sprang up and slapped against his abs. As if moving by some force, you immediately dropped to your knees. Rubbing soap onto his waist, thighs, and finally pumping his cock with your soapy hands. You looked up to him as you "cleaned" him off with innocent eyes.

Satoru wasn't impressed. "Don't tease me baby or you'll regret it." He pulled you up and brought you into a deep kiss. You both gathered more soap and started washing each other off.

With his hands moving slowly down the sides, Satoru didn't hold himself back from touching every nook and cranny of your body. From your neck, to your shoulders, down your breasts, going to your thighs and legs. His hands were rubbing at your skin, inching nearer and nearer to your cunt. Until he suddenly pulled away, making you cry out at the loss of contact.

"Be good for me and let me clean you first kitten." He whispered.

No other words were shared as you both rinsed and washed each other off before moving to the onsen.

"You know, I've always wanted to fuck you in a hot spring." Satoru smirked as you both dipped into the water. You sat on his lap and clasped your hands behind his neck, straddling him. His hands gripping either side of you waist tightly.

"No I don't know." You turned away from him as you rested your head against his chest. He hummed. Both of you resting for a bit. You were both in the same state, antsy for action, but trying to enjoy the hot springs at the same time.

For a while you both just stayed soaking in the hot water. Until you started grinding down against him. He just stared down at your figure. Breasts spilling against his chest, the slope of your s line with your ass under the water. But you refused to meet his eyes.

Satoru didn't really like that very much. He pinched your thigh hard. "Ow!,' you yelped. "Toru what was-" you finally turned to look up at him, but faltered and stopped moving. His eyes were bright and his expression dark. "I thought my baby was going to be good for me tonight. You don't wanna beg me later just to come right? Or does daddy have to make you do just that?"

As soon as he said the word daddy you felt your insides clench around nothing, thighs quivering. He looked down towards your body, grinning at your response. He pulled you out of the water, sitting down on the ground beside it.

"Suck me off baby and I'll consider making you cum."

You crawled over on all fours towards him. You kissed him first, then trailed downwards, licking off the water and sweat on Satoru's abs and the outlines of his hard muscles. He groans while staring at you, pupils blown so wide his bright blue eyes actually look dark for once.

You can see the carnal lust raging behind him as you squeeze your breasts together while kneeling and licking his abs. You leave small butterfly kisses as you slowly make your way down to his aching member.

But, he groans as you skip past it and suck love marks into his lower thighs. "Pumpkin, please -UNGH, p-please don't tease so much." Satoru groaned. You smirked up at him, meeting his eyes while sticking your tongue out and licking one of his balls. Sucking it into your mouth and covering it with your spit.

He reached down to lift your chin up, thumbing your lips as he watched the saliva trickle down down side of your mouth to his fingers. The current sight of you is so lewd and dirty that Satoru almost came on the spot right there.

You decide to humor him and move to licking the head of his dick, while grabbing a hold of the base and slowly pumping it up and down. Satoru threw his head back. He looked up, seeing the night sky and the stars twinkling while feeling hot pleasure run through his body. He felt like he was floating.

You tried deepthroating all of him in one go, but he was just too big. "Baby, your mouth is too small for daddy's cock isn't it?". You whimpered in response. Trying to swallow as much of him as you can while using your hand for the remainder of his length.

Quiet mewls escaped the sides of your mouth as you opened your aching jaws wider. Tears started running down your face. You didn't stop as you relaxed your jaw and took more of him, swallowing what you can while pumping. He bucked up without warning, causing your gag reflex to react. Then he pulled you off.

"That's enough for now. I wanna make sure I stuff every bit of cum I have inside of your pussy baby." He pulled you up over him, this time with his back to the floor as he spoke.

"Lemme eat you out, I've been waiting for this all day." He was salivating at the sight of your pussy, positioned in front of his face. You lowered yourself onto him slowly. Impatiently, he tugged you waist down, smashing your lower lips against his mouth. You let out a loud yelp followed by heavy breaths and mewls as he ate you out.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of your walls. He loved the taste of you, always thirsty for more. You tried to grind your pussy against his face. But he held your legs in place with one arm, wrapping around your behind. The other hand was playing with your clit.

In no time at all you were sobbing and cumming all over his face. Satoru didn't spare you one second of rest. He pulled away and lined himself up, pushing into you during your orgasm.

He immediately started fucking into you earnestly, grabbing a hold of your waist and lifting it to pull you on and off his cock. "Toru, it's too much for me, I can't-" You could barely get the words out of your mouth as you slurred them out with your eyes shut.

"Yes you can. I know you can. Because you're made for me and only you can do a good job for me like this love." Satoru grunted as he pumped into you like there was no tomorrow.

He loved it when your walls clenched and squeezed against him tightly. Especially when your whole body shook during an orgasm. Whenever you open your eyes all you can see are the stars blurring due to your movements. You both came like that, with your backs arching. His cock stayed hard, twitching as it spurted and filled you up.

He suddenly felt the sensation of eyes on him. As the user of six eyes, his senses were wide alert at ALL times. He looked to the side of the wooden wall, and saw dark eyes staring back at him.

He didn't stop thrusting. You whined and mewled as you ground your hips against his. "Fuck, such a slut for me. Love it when you cry and make those noises babe. Just look at me. I won't look at any other person, man or woman. I'm yours as long as you're mine." He growled out.

He pulled out to reposition you. Dragging your body on top of his. Your back against his chest. "Daddy, I want you. I want more!" You whined out. You positioned his cock at your entrance.

"Daddy will give his baby what she wants. You've been so good to me after all love." He smirked inwardly pushed back upwards into you, thrusting at a fast pace. (Satoru chose the position because he knew you were both being watched. He loves to make other men so jealous of him having you).

You could only squeal and try to hold yourself up against him, putting your palms against the floor. But it was no use. He grabbed your thighs and kept fucking up harder and harder, making it hard for you to hold onto anything.

"Yes just like that baby. You're so good to me. You don't need to think. I'll make it so that you don't have to do anything else. You only need to feel my cock yeah? My doll is the best when she is crying on my cock." He moaned out.

The man on the other side of the wall was joined by a few other men. Satoru used his ability to see through the wall following the movement of their cursed energy and saw that they were touching themselves to you.

"Daddy, please more. Daddyyy~" you were slipping further into subspace. Soon you couldn't speak clearly anymore. Just babbling nonsense while bouncing on Satoru's lap and staring hazily up at the sky.

"I think we have company." He laughed out. You snapped out of your haze to see peeking eyes behind the bamboo sticks. Satoru just thrusted harder. "Let's give them a show of their lifetime hmm? I spy old men wanting some action. But they won't be able to touch you baby."

He reached up with one hand to grope your breast and the other stayed below to play with your clit. Sex to him was almost like an art form. He knew exactly how to play with your body to bring you to your strongest orgasms.

You tried to cover your body up but he pulled your arms away. "Don't run away baby, daddy's here to protect you. It will be okay."

At the end of the day you trusted him and his six eyes, so you let go. Pussy clenching harder at the thought of being watched by unknown strangers.

"That's it, my angel. So good for me. You're leaking far more than normal slut. You like it when people watch you get fucked?"

He reached up with his cum stained hand to spit into it. Then shoved his fingers in your mouth. You obediently suckled on and cleaned his fingers for him. He continued to grope you as he pounded away.

Satoru wasn't too worried about the spectators next door. He can see them clearly. Several middle aged men (probably sharing a larger room) messily jerking off to both of you. He saw the way their eyes travelled across your breasts and cunt, which was oozing with his cum.

He hit a hard deep spot inside of you which caused you to squirt hard, a large amount of liquid spraying out. Satoru quickly put his hands over your clit and furiously rubbed at it, wanting to prolong your squirting. You were crying out loud at this point. It was just music to his ears.

One man groaned out, causing you to tense and tighten and Satoru to moan out.

"You love putting a show on huh baby? We should do this more often if it gets you tighter and wetter around me." He snarked out while you drooled and asked for more.

He didn't stop thrusting until he came a few more times inside of you, changing positions.

The men watched as you rode him, your breasts bouncing up and down, while you placed your palms flat on Satoru's chest. They stared at the cum flowing out of your pussy, being fucked back into you by Satoru. The way you both groaned as you clamped down tight and milked his cock.

Soon you found yourself laying on your side with one leg up with Satoru spooning you from behind. What was frightening was his stamina and power.

His thrusts never lost strength and soon you just felt like his cock was drilling a space inside of you, just for it. You felt so boneless in his hands when you both finished, laying down on your sides.

"Babe…. You okay? We need to clean up." Satoru whispered against your shoulder.

You could only mumble incoherent noises. Squeezing around his softening length, still plugged inside of you to keep his cum inside.

Satoru gave out a soft sigh. Then gathered you into his arms and took you away from prying eyes. He just turned and smirked at them as he walked away with you, butt naked.

The watchers were disappointed that the show was over. Satoru then cleaned you both with the shower head in the washing area and wiped you down with soft towels.

You stayed silent the whole time. Your head felt like it was in the clouds. Just letting Satoru do his way with you like a doll. "You were really good for me tonight angel. Nobody else can touch you but me." He chuckled darkly.

You just listened to his simple commands such as putting your arms up when he dressed you in your nightgown. 'I always love fucking her dumb.' He smiled to himself as he settled you into his arms in bed.

"Next time I'll be fucking you in the water." He whispered. He brought you closer to him, tucking your head against his neck. Kissing your forehead and patting you to put you to sleep.

🎇🎇🎇

The next morning you were absolutely horrified to see people staring at you, when you both left your room to check out. 'I bet they heard us last night. And who were the ones peaking at us?!?!' you frightfully thought to yourself.

Satoru didn't really care. Smiling brightly at the attendants and thanking them for your amazing stay at the inn.

"Toru I really enjoyed my stay, but it's hard to be happy now knowing that we did it at the expense of our neighbours stay." You whispered, hitting him. "Darling I'm pretty sure they enjoyed the show." He winked at you, shameless as ever.

Suffice to say, you decided not return to said hot springs for a while out of shame.

End notes: 🙈 this fic started because I just thought of Satoru's abs wet with steam and sweat but it evolved during the last edit. Hope you guys enjoyed! Reblogs and comments are very much appreciated 💜

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