#“Wondering and really curious what show the characters are from for a while now genuinely.

mercillery · 2 months ago

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ASL BROTHERS WITH A SHY S/O

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

CHARACTERS: Luffy + Ace + Sabo

NOTES: Do Luffy haters exist? It’s a dumb question, yes—but I’m genuinely curious. He’s so cute and dumb, I find it hard to not love him.

LUFFY

Luffy wouldn’t really “get” shyness in the conventional sense. But here’s the thing about Luffy: he’s all about accepting people as they are, no questions asked. He treats you with the same bright-eyed, wide-grinned enthusiasm he shows everyone. The idea of you needing to be more outgoing wouldn’t even cross his mind because, to him, you’re already perfect as you are. Shyness? Never heard of it. Just pass the meat, please.

Now, Luffy’s approach to social interactions is, well, 100% Luffy. He doesn’t really adapt his wild and carefree style to match anyone else’s comfort levels. If you're quiet and reserved, that’s cool—Luffy just goes on living life at full volume like it’s another Tuesday on the Sunny.

At first, you might be left wondering how in the seven seas you’re going to survive the endless hurricane of chaos that follows this rubbery captain around. But soon, and without realizing it, you start to find that his reckless antics and headfirst approach to life are... kind of charming. Sure, it’s like living next door to a tornado, but it’s a tornado that makes you laugh until your sides hurt and never lets you get too deep into your own thoughts.

What’s funny is that while he doesn’t actively try to make you feel more comfortable, he ends up doing it anyway. It’s his Luffy magic. You find yourself smiling more often, your shyness loosening its grip bit by bit as he does dumb stuff and throws himself into trouble that only Luffy would consider fun.

He’ll walk up to you, grin stretching from ear to ear, holding out some bizarre, questionably edible snack and say, “You gotta try this!” And just like that, the nerves you felt melt away—not because he’s making an effort to make you feel at ease, but simply because he’s himself.

And sure, sometimes his energy is a lot. We’re talking sprinting-across-decks, yelling-about-meat kind of “a lot.” But in the middle of all that noise, you come to realize that you feel safer and more at ease when you’re around him. Why? Because Luffy has this way of making everything fun and natural, and soon enough, that includes you too.

Before long, your shyness isn’t something you worry about around him; it’s just another thing Luffy accepts without blinking, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And in his eyes? It is.

It’s cute because you two really are like the sun and the moon, with Luffy as the blazing, never-stopping sun, and you being the more reserved, quiet moon. It’s like a cosmic duo—he’s all light and energy, and you’re the calm, cool reflection of it all. You balance each other out in the weirdest, most wonderful way.

And when people catch wind of the fact that Luffy is dating someone—let alone someone as shy as you—it’s like watching a cartoon character’s eyes bug out of their head. Yeah, they’re not wrong to be surprised, but Luffy doesn’t care. He’s already busy thinking about what’s next on the agenda, probably involving meat or some kind of treasure hunt.

Luffy is anything but shy. He could probably talk to a rock and think it’s the best conversation he’s had all day. So when it comes to affection, he’s not exactly one to shy away from it. He might not be the clingiest partner out there—he’s not going to be hanging off you like a koala (okay, maybe sometimes)—but you can bet he’s there, always.

Whether it’s randomly giving you a hug in or tossing his arm around your shoulder like it’s no big deal, he’s just Luffy—and that means showing affection wherever and whenever he feels like it, no matter who’s watching. Basically, he’s like a “here’s my arm, it’s yours now” kind of guy.

While Luffy doesn’t exactly get what makes you shy, he’s surprisingly good at picking up on your feelings. If you’re feeling anxious, or if you’re shrinking back into your shell a little bit, Luffy has this unbelievable ability to sense when you need a change of pace. Without even thinking about it, he’ll grab your hand and drag you off on some wild adventure, just to get your mind off things.

He doesn’t even need a reason—he just knows that you could use a distraction, and he’s the perfect person to provide it. Besides, that just gives him more time to spend with you! And, of course, he might offer you one of his beloved snacks or a full meal if you’re feeling off. Seriously, do you know how big that is? Luffy parting with his food is like a miracle in itself, so if he’s offering it to you, you better believe you’re special.

And let’s talk about the food thing for a sec. Do you even realize how big of a deal it is that Luffy shares his food with you? Like, do you know how many times he’s turned down offering a bite of his meat to anyone? Probably never. So when he hands you a piece of his prized food, you know it’s a huge honor. We’re talking sacred territory here.

If you ever doubted your place in Luffy’s heart, just remember: he shares his food with you. That’s a level of trust and affection that not even the grandest feast can outdo. Trust me, you’ve got a special place in his world, and it’s right next to the meat and maybe a little bit of the chaos.

Luffy’s naturally the type of guy who’d include you in absolutely everything—because why wouldn’t he? To him, you’re part of the crew, part of his world, and that means he’s going to drag you into every single bit of it.

You’d be minding your own business, maybe sitting quietly with your book or trying to sneak in a nap, when suddenly—BAM! Luffy's in front of you, grinning like a madman, already talking about the next big adventure or game that everyone’s playing. “C’mon, join us!” he’d say, and before you could protest, he’s already tossing you into the mix.

It’s not that he’s forcing you to join, though—Luffy just has this way of making you feel like you should be there, without ever putting you on the spot. His carefree, inclusive attitude makes it feel like the natural thing to do. You never feel pressure; you just feel... valued. Like you belong, whether you’re quietly cheering from the sidelines or joining in with your own brand of awkward enthusiasm.

It’s like Luffy’s energy is so contagious that you can’t help but want to be part of whatever insane thing he’s cooking up that day, even if it’s just watching him eat his weight in food and making random, nonsensical decisions.

If anyone ever crossed the line with you—teased you, made you uncomfortable, or said something that got under your skin—Luffy would flip the script faster than you can blink. That goofy, carefree grin would disappear in an instant, replaced by a rare, uncharacteristically serious expression.

Suddenly, he’s standing right in front of you like a human shield, ready to take down anyone who dared upset you. He’s usually a chaotic force of nature, but mess with his loved ones, and that’s when you see a side of him that is all about protecting you.

He wouldn’t hesitate to confront the person, his voice firm and unwavering. “Hey! That’s not cool! You don’t mess with my crew!” He’s not one for subtlety or second-guessing, so you’d know right away that Luffy’s on your side. If someone’s being rude or making you feel small, he’ll make sure they know they’ve messed with the wrongggggg person.

The crew’s used to this by now—because Luffy, despite his childish nature, would go to the ends of the earth to defend the people he cares about. You’d feel like the most important person in the world in that moment because, in his eyes, you are.

Luffy’s loyalty is on another level entirely. Once he’s decided he cares about someone, they’re in—no questions, no conditions, just pure, unfiltered loyalty. If you’re lucky enough to be someone Luffy loves, you’d know it in every grin, in every spontaneous gesture, and in every single, joyfully shouted “Let’s go!” You’d never have to second-guess where you stand with him, because Luffy’s affections are as clear as day, as honest and unwavering as the sea he dreams of conquering.

So whether you’re officially part of his crew or not, in his mind, you’re always one of them, and he’d tell anyone who’ll listen, “Yeah, they’re with me!” with a pride that’d make your heart swell.

The best part? Luffy would constantly invite you to tag along on whatever wild journey or ridiculous stunt he’s about to pull. There’d be no hesitation; it’d be, “Hey! Let’s go on an adventure!” as if going on an impromptu quest was as simple as taking a stroll to the market. It’s almost like Luffy has this unspoken rule: every exciting, crazy, fun thing has to be experienced with you.

From treasure hunts that end up in unexpected fights with sea kings to races through bustling ports (where he definitely has no idea where he’s running but is laughing the whole time), Luffy wants you there, right in the middle of it all. You’d probably sigh at the thought of jumping headfirst into another unpredictable situation, but Luffy’s enthusiasm is like a gravitational pull—it’s impossible to resist.

And thank goodness for that, because your timid self wouldn’t stand a chance at taking the lead in any of these wild endeavors. Luckily, Luffy’s the type to charge forward, dragging you along by the hand with zero doubts and zero plans. He makes all the decisions for both of you, which, sure, sometimes means ending up lost on an island full of very angry, very large monkeys because, “They looked friendly!”

You’d feel a mix of exasperation and endearment at his antics. He doesn’t realize it, but his willingness to be the fearless leader—even if his plans are sometimes made with the strategic prowess of a rubber chicken—takes the pressure off you. You don’t have to stress over decisions or worry about whether you’re doing the right thing, because Luffy’s already ten steps ahead (probably literally sprinting) and dragging you along with a confidence that borders on reckless.

And honestly? That’s part of the charm. His “plans” might be half-baked and a little foolish, but he makes up for it by being completely and unapologetically himself.

You’d find yourself smiling more than you ever expected, getting swept up in the whirlwind that is Luffy, and realizing that being with him means never feeling alone, even if you’re quiet or shy.

His laughter, his outbursts, and his impulsive decisions would all become things you cherish, because with him leading the way, life feels a little less scary and a lot more exciting.

ACE

Ace is all warmth and energy, like a bonfire on a chilly night, and he’d go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable in his presence. Despite his natural tendency for excitement and spontaneity, he’d be mindful of your shyness, making a conscious effort to dial down the volume when needed.

You’d catch him lowering his voice a bit, softening his laughter, or even sitting a little closer with a reassuring grin. His laid-back nature would do wonders for your anxiety, melting it away bit by bit like ice under the sun. He’d take a more casual, playful approach when he’s with you, balancing his liveliness with a kind of gentle attentiveness that makes your heart feel at ease.

Ace has a knack for starting conversations, even if the topic is completely random. He’d sense your hesitance and jump in without skipping a beat. “Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to cook for the crew and accidentally set a whole forest on fire?” he’d start, eyes twinkling as he watches your reaction.

His stories are always ridiculous—stories of clumsy mishaps, epic pranks gone wrong, or that one time he fell asleep mid-battle. You’d find yourself laughing in spite of yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing as you realize he’s making himself the butt of the joke, just to make you feel more at ease. He’d keep talking until he sees that spark of amusement in your eyes, and then keep going, his smile growing wider every time you giggle.

And Ace’s teasing? Oh, he’d be a master of that fine line between making you laugh and making you blush. He’d lean in, smirking just enough to be charming, and say, “What’s this? A smile? I knew it was in there somewhere.” His playful comments would come with a wink and a laugh, just enough to make your face warm, but never enough to make you feel like you’re being put on the spot.

If he ever saw you growing quiet or noticed that hint of panic in your eyes, he’d immediately back off, switching to a softer tone and throwing in a quick “I’m just messing with ya” followed by that disarming grin of his.

Ace would be incredibly in tune with your reactions, watching for the tiniest signs that you’re feeling overwhelmed. The moment he picks up on it, he’d change gears—maybe suggesting a quiet spot on deck where you could sit together and watch the stars, or offering to take a walk to get some fresh air. He’d brush off the seriousness with a light, “Hey, it’s just us. No pressure, alright?” The way he says it makes you feel safe, like it’s just you and him against the world, no expectations or worries allowed.

Ace is the definition of a warm hug in human form, so being a tactile person comes naturally to him. But when it comes to you, he’d show an impressive amount of restraint—not an easy feat for someone who’d usually throw an arm around a friend without thinking twice. Well, you’re not just his friend but his lover, obviously—but what I’m getting at us that he’s a pretty affectionate guy.

He’d start small, easing you into it with light touches: a friendly pat on the shoulder when you share a joke, a playful ruffle of your hair that would leave you smiling and maybe a little flustered. You’d catch the subtle glances he’d shoot you afterward, as if he’s silently checking, Was that okay? Did that make you uncomfortable? It’s endearing how he’s so in tune with your comfort level, his natural affection turned into a gentle dance of patience and care.

As time went on and your confidence around him grew, Ace would start to introduce more meaningful touches. He’d sneak in side hugs when you’re sitting together, leaning into you with that easygoing smile of his that made your heart race. And when the day finally came that you leaned into him on your own, whether it was out of exhaustion or just because you felt safe, the soft, proud look on his face would be priceless.

Ace would make a big deal out of it in the quietest way possible, his hand finding yours in a reassuring squeeze as if to say, Hey, look at you, being brave. Eventually, he’d graduate to full-on snuggling when you were comfortable, and the first time he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you close, you’d know just how deeply he cared.

And when social situations become too much—because let’s face it, Ace has a lot of friends and a magnetic personality that draws people in—he’d be the first to notice if you’re starting to feel overwhelmed.

In those moments, he’d spring into action without making it obvious. He’d tell a ridiculously over-the-top story, one that would steal the spotlight from everyone else and have the whole room’s attention fixed on him, leaving you a moment to breathe.

Ace would always throw himself into being the distraction, whether it meant cracking jokes or reenacting a failed stunt that ended with him pretending to trip over his own feet. He’d shoot you a quick wink in the middle of it, as if to say, See? I’ve got you.

It’s not that he wanted to be the center of attention—okay, maybe a little, but only when it’s for you.

He’d take on the role of court jester, chaos-maker, or even reluctant hero if it meant taking the pressure off you for a while. If anyone questioned it, he’d brush it off with a laugh and a shrug, all while keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay.

And if things really got too much, Ace wouldn’t hesitate to steer you away from the noise altogether, leaning in close and saying, “Let’s get outta here for a bit, yeah?” He’d lead you somewhere quieter, a hand on your arm or fingers interlaced with yours, the simple touch grounding you as you walked.

You’d both end up somewhere peaceful, maybe under the stars or by a flickering campfire, where he’d wrap an arm around your shoulder and say, “You don’t have to explain. Just take your time.” And you would, with the steady thump of his heartbeat right next to yours, knowing he’d take on the world just to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.

Ace would be your number one cheerleader, hyped beyond belief over every little victory you achieved. You managed to say something in a group conversation? He’d beam at you like you just solved world peace. “Look at you go! You’re amazing!” he’d shout, probably a bit louder than necessary, with that signature grin that lights up his entire face.

If you reached out to touch his arm or, heaven forbid, initiated a hug, there’d be a solid five minutes of him staring at you in delighted disbelief before breaking out into an excited, “Did you just—? You did! You did!”

What you might not notice is that whenever you step even half a toe out of your comfort zone, Ace is in the background punching the air with all the subtlety of an over-caffeinated kid at a birthday party.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a tiny thing, like making eye contact with someone new, or a big step like saying a few words in front of the crew—Ace is celebrating it like you just discovered the One Piece itself.

He might look a bit unhinged to anyone passing by, but he’s never cared about that. You’re his person, and your wins are his wins. He’s just out here being the proudest guy alive, punching invisible foes and mouthing, That’s my partner!

And the way he looks at you? It’s like you’re the most priceless treasure in the world, and not just in the fleeting, pirate-wants-your-gold way. No, Ace’s gaze is full of warmth and genuine awe, the kind that makes you feel like you’re wrapped in a blanket of sunshine.

When you speak, whether it’s a confident statement or a hesitant mumble, Ace is all ears. His eyes would fix on you with this almost comically serious expression, nodding along like you’re revealing some ancient, life-altering secret.

You could point to the sky and say, “That’s the sky,” and he’d respond with a deep, earnest nod and a wide grin, “Exactly! I love that you noticed!” The rest of the crew might shake their heads and mutter things like, “Here they go again,” but Ace doesn’t care. If it matters to you, it matters to him—simple as that.

It doesn’t matter how mundane your observation is or how shyly you say it; to Ace, every word is golden. He’d hang on every syllable as if you were weaving a tale worthy of a bard’s song. You’d catch him repeating things you said back to you later, just to show he’d remembered, saying things like, “Oh yeah, like you said the other day, the sky really was a perfect blue.”

It’s almost ridiculous, but that’s Ace—he’d make you feel like every tiny thing you did was extraordinary, because in his eyes, it truly is.

SABO

Sabo is the calm breeze compared to the whirlwinds that are Luffy and Ace, which makes him the perfect blend of approachable and comforting.

With his natural ease and warm, diplomatic demeanor, you’d find yourself feeling more at peace around him sooner than you’d expect. Sabo’s the kind of person who could have a conversation with anyone, but when he’s with you, you’d feel like you’re the only one in the world that matters.

He’s just got this knack for making everything feel safe, like he’s a sturdy anchor in a storm. If you ever started to feel overwhelmed, Sabo would be the first to notice, with a quiet attentiveness that doesn’t scream I’m watching you but more like I’m here if you need me.

He’d be a master of subtlety, paying close attention to what made you nervous and what helped you open up, all without making it seem like he was analyzing you. You’d catch him making mental notes when you shifted uncomfortably or lit up at something specific. He’s probably like, “Write that down, write that down!” in his head.

And he’d use those observations to make your interactions more comfortable. If he noticed that certain topics or big crowds made you anxious, he’d steer conversations towards lighter things or find a reason to take a quiet walk somewhere less crowded.

Sabo would never rush you into sharing more than you were ready for. He understands that trust is built slowly, like adding logs to a fire, not dumping gasoline on it and hoping for the best.

Sabo would show his affection in the most considerate ways, taking into account what you’d find comforting rather than overwhelming. That being said, grand and dramatic gestures aren’t his style when it comes to you; he’d save those for his other acts of rebellion.

With you, he’d stick to smaller, more intimate actions. He’d brush his fingers across yours before holding your hand, always making sure it was welcome. He’d lean in a little closer when you’re talking, eyes fixed on you with that soft, attentive gaze of his that makes you feel like you have all the time in the world.

There’d be moments when he’d reach out with a light touch on your arm, or just the simple press of his shoulder against yours when you sat side by side, enough to let you know he was there but never too much to make you uncomfortable.

It’s like he has a sixth sense for what was just the right amount of closeness. And if you ever looked unsure or nervous, Sabo’s eyes would catch yours, full of warmth and encouragement, like he was silently saying, Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.

The patience he’d show would be unmatched; you could almost hear him mentally cheering you on even if you were just picking your words slowly or taking a deep breath before saying something important.

And the way he’d support you? Subtle but powerful. If you ever found yourself second-guessing or fumbling, he’d quietly step in to help redirect the conversation or offer a reassuring comment. “I think that’s a great point,” he’d say with genuine enthusiasm, giving you that extra boost of confidence.

And when you’d catch him watching you speak, the look in his eyes would always be one of admiration—never judgment, never pressure, just pure, patient support. And whether it’s a simple chat or a quiet walk together, Sabo’s presence would be your reminder that you’re valued, seen, and cherished, just as you are.

When it came to conversations, Sabo would be your guy for deep, meaningful talks, but with a healthy dose of humor to keep things light. He’d pick the coziest, quietest corner on the ship or at a café, leaning in with a thoughtful smile and saying, “Alright, you ready to hear some top-secret stories about Ace and Luffy’s greatest flops?” And he’d be off, recounting tales of Luffy trying to eat something he really, really shouldn’t have or Ace’s legendary nap times that ended in near-disaster.

His stories are designed not just to make you laugh, but to remind you that even these larger-than-life brothers were and still are total dorks sometimes. And before you know it, you’re easing into sharing a few of your own stories, prompted by his gentle encouragement and the safety his presence provided.

If there was ever a moment where you hinted at wanting to join in on an activity or step outside your comfort zone, Sabo would light up like someone just told him there was free cake on deck. But instead of jumping up and down and looking crazy, Sabo’s celebration would be the dignified, internal kind.

Picture a boardroom in his mind filled with 10 tiny Sabos all jumping out of their chairs, high-fiving each other, and throwing confetti in the air. On the outside, he’d just offer you that calm, reassuring grin and a simple, “You’ve got this. And if not, we’ll laugh about it later, yeah?”

He’d be your biggest silent cheerleader, always ready with a patient hand to guide you or a subtle nudge if you needed it. If you wanted to join in on a game or join a conversation but hesitated, Sabo would seamlessly include you, making it feel natural and not like he was pointing out your shyness.

He’d say things like, “Hey, I think Y/N would be perfect for this—what do you think?” and then shoot you a wink that says, See? Not so bad, right? And when you took that first step, whether it was a comment or a hesitant laugh at a joke, Sabo’s inner cheering squad would be losing their collective minds.

So while Ace might be punching the air and Luffy would probably shout, “You did it!” at full volume, Sabo would play it cool—at least on the outside. But don’t be fooled. The minute he see’s you trying something new or making a move outside your comfort zone, those 10 tiny Sabos in his head would be throwing a full-on carnival, complete with fireworks and dancing.

And he’d just keep giving you that look that said, You’re amazing, and I’m so proud of you. Because to him, you’re always worth celebrating, no matter what.

If there’s one thing Sabo doesn’t tolerate, it’s someone messing with the people he cares about. So if he spotted you feeling uncomfortable or noticed someone trying to be intimidating, he’d swoop in with the subtlety of a master diplomat. Sabo wouldn’t make a scene, but instead, he’d redirect the situation like an absolute pro.

Maybe he’d throw out a well-timed joke, ask a question that shifts the focus, or suddenly develop an urgent need for your opinion on something random, like, “Hey, didn’t you say you know a lot about… apples?” The offender would be left blinking, and you’d find yourself in a new conversation before you even realized what happened. Crisis averted, all thanks to Sabo’s suave social maneuvering.

And then there’s Sabo’s sweeter side—his covert operation of affection. He knows that grand, dramatic proclamations can sometimes make you want to dive head-first into the nearest bush, so he’s perfected the art of subtle, heartfelt gestures.

He’d leave little handwritten notes tucked in places he knows you’ll find, maybe in your favorite book or slipped under your plate at breakfast. Each note would be filled with the kind of genuine, thoughtful words that would make your heart do an embarrassing little flip. They’d say things like, I know you’re stronger than you think, and I can’t wait for the world to see it, too, or The stars were beautiful last night, but not as much as seeing you smile today.

And don’t even get started on the letters. Oh, the letters. Sabo would write you these intricate, beautifully crafted notes that read like they came straight from the heart of a poet who’s just returned from a victorious battle.

He could have just finished a day of intense Revolutionary Army missions, covered in dust and exhaustion, but you’d still get a note that starts with, Hey, you. I’m thinking about you, and ends with some metaphor about how your presence makes the world brighter, even when he’s knee-deep in chaos.

You’d find trinkets, too—maybe a small charm he found that reminded him of you or a pressed flower from somewhere he thought was pretty. It’s the little things that would make your day and remind you that, no matter what chaos he’s wrapped up in with the Revolutionary Army, you’re always on his mind. And when you’d look up at him, cheeks flushed from finding yet another one of his notes or small gifts, Sabo would just grin that charming, lopsided grin and say, “Did you find it? Good. I meant every word.”

He’s protective, thoughtful, and romantic in a way that feels like it’s tailored just for you. And even if he’s balancing the weight of revolutions and strategic plans, Sabo makes sure you know that you’re not just part of his life—you’re the best part.

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starfall-dream · 4 months ago

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Yandere Baldur's Gate x Isekai Reader Concept

I wanted to expand on my concept in hopes that people would be more interested in it. This won't get into every single character I want to write for, in fact this will pretty broad, so please feel free to ask me to expand on any ideas I didn't get into concept.

Also, for this concept, I'm including default (whitedragon, storm Sorcery) Durge, who is the Tav in my concept. I'll be using they/them pronouns for them and reader.

This mainly goes over act one, and if people are interested, I'll explore more of act 2 and 3, so please tell me what you think.

Again please send in any ideas or things you want me to expand on.

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You didn't remember how you arrived here, nor do you know how the tadpole entered your head, but there was no use lamenting your situation now. All you did remember was going to sleep one night, your head banging in your head, but that wasn't unusual. When you awoke, you weren't on your bed, but instead on a beach, sand covering your body.

It was lonely, being in this strange new world. From the moment you woke up on that beach, you knew you didn't belong, and you could feel every essence of your being rejecting the notion that you should be here. But despite that, you remained, mountains of responsibility placed upon you from the moment you realized where you were. Your companions, if you could even call them that, were cordial at best. You could tell that most of them didn't believe your story, thought you were crazy, spouting nonsense of other worlds. Some were nice, namely the wizard Gale and the more welcoming and kind Wyll, though you knew that their kindness was due to need rather than genuine feelings.

The others were distrustful of you, but as their companion they had no other choice but to follow you. Astarion was the worst, at best his words were just petty teasing, while at worst he made you feel useless. You knew nothing, had very little survival skills, couldn't find your way around any weapons, in his words "hopeless." You tried your best to get along with him and your other companions, but it was often for not.

The only companion you really found yourself close to was Tav, the more leader-like of the group. The best way to describe them is spacey, staring off into the world, often alone with their thoughts. It was difficult getting used to them at first, you've never seen someone like them before, but they were the only ones to accept you in the beginning. They taught you how to survive in this world, helping alongside Wyll in teaching you how to fight, at least with a sword. It made you feel at least a bit more prepared for your journey ahead, and you didn't have to listen to Astarion's judgmental words any more.

While Tav was more of the leader, you were always more inclined to help people. You liked the Tieflings, especially the curious children, so it didn't take much to convince you into helping them. It felt...nice, having people's hope, helping people, though you didn't truly know what it entailed. Having to protect your companions, keep them away from the danger that seemed oh so attracted to them, it was a lot of work. Part of you wondered if helping the grove, saving these people, if it would prove your worth to your companions, and for some, it did. Shadowheart was appreciative of the work you put in, though she seemed unable to express it.

In fact, you felt as though you were growing closer to your companions, at least partially. Gale would show off his magic, he loved it. After finding Karlach and learning more about Wyll, he seemed very obsessed with making sure you knew how to protect yourself. It was easy to befriend Halsin, he was so nice and understanding, as well as understanding as he could be. You even started to help the other companions with their personal issues as their trust in you started to get better. You caught Astarion mending some of your clothes one night, you think Lae'zel complimented you fighting style once, but you really couldn't tell, and Karlach was always encouraging. It felt nice, even if it was all very small acts of kindness.

Though, throughout your journey, you found yourself worried over Tav. They were always more inclined towards violence, they were intimidating, quiet, but they were a friend to you, and so when they confided in you about their violent urges, something they strived to overcome, you vowed to help them. You could tell your words meant a lot to them, and as they promised to protect you on your journey, despite what path they take, the choice of words slightly worries you, but you trust them, and you were happy to have a friend.

Meeting Halsin was a breath of fresh air, he seemed to genuinely notice the work you were putting in, offering to help you with your tadpole problem and travel with you on your journey. Your companions seemed to like the fact that a confident healer was finally amongst the party, and for once, after saving the grove and helping the Tieflings, you felt at peace. During their celebratory party, you spend most of your time alone, occasionally being checked up on by the animal companions you've found along the way. Zevlor offered you a drink, and in a tipsy daze, you confided in him about your worries and fears, you talked for hours and it was nice and Zevlor seems sympathetic, even claiming to miss you while they were traveling, and made you promise to find him in Baldur's Gate.

You promised him, and as the Tieflings left, you found a small amount of dread sinking in. Your companions were still wary of you, and now you were traveling into a more dangerous land. You wondered if it would always be this way, but you knew you would have to keep brave, even if you knew you would never belong despite all your efforts. All you could hope for was hope for change, and keep a strong facade for your companions and yourself.

---

A/n: Again, I wasn't able to go into characters like Zevlor or Raphael as much as I wanted to, so please feel free to send in any ideas or headcanons you have about them or any other characters, I'd love to here them :)

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #yandere bg3 #yandere baldurs gate #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate x reader #astarion x reader #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader

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foreverisntenough · 13 days ago

Text

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend. You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy?

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: Still the same.

Chapter 17 - 'Rarely Wrong’ | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 12 k

The tension in the room was heavy before Trent even stepped inside Jack’s house, well it was your house too but he knew Jack was home and you were out and that was exactly why he was coming over. Coming over with the hopes of settling things between him and his best friend. Although, Trent didn’t even get the chance to speak before Jack had squared up to him in the foyer of the house, his shoulders taut with rage.

“You’ve got some fucking balls showing up here,” Jack growled, his fists clenched. Trent raised his hands in a peaceful surrender.

“Jack, mate, come on, I just want to talk—” Trent kept his tone as even and calm as he could.

“Talk? Nah, lad. Let’s settle this right now.” Jack stepped closer, his chest puffed out. “Or you gonna be a pussy about it? Hide again?” Jack quipped. Trent tried not to laugh, even though the situation was anything but funny. It was just that Jack was not the fighting type, and neither was Trent—although somehow, fights seemed to be following him lately, especially when it came to you.

“I’m not fighting you, bro,” Trent said firmly but with a cheeky smile he couldn’t bite back. Jack scoffed, annoyed by Trent’s smirk seeing it as arrogance not innocence.

“Why? Too scared?” Jack taunted and then Trent’s jaw tightened, his faint smile completely vanished into tight lips more pissed off that Jack was trying to actually start something here, but he held his ground. He came to stop this, not start something else.

“No, because she won’t want me and you like this. And I don’t want us like this.” Trent emphasized. “Seriously, you think she’d be okay with us throwing punches over her? You know her better than that. She doesn’t want this.” Jack froze for a moment, his expression wavering, but the anger still burned in his eyes.

“So you’ve talked to her then?” Jack asked albeit snippy but also genuinely curious and mildly concerned. He hadn’t seen you for days. You hadn’t responded to texts and yes, while now a little too late, you had turned off sharing your location with him. He assumed you were with Layla but had also been blocking out the idea you might’ve been with Trent. Although right now seeing Trent again, hearing him talk about you, it was glaringly obvious you had seen him. “What? She hiding out at yours now?” Jack bit.

“Jack! Stop mate. I’m tired of taking your shit over this. It’s bullshit you’re being a dick to me and to Y/N. You’ve called her shit that’s way out of line and me things too but I’m coming to talk to you. Stop judging and just let me fucking talk to you.” Trent yelled, gesturing towards him. Frustration boiling over.

“Why’d you have to lie, bro! Why did you sneak around with her if you guys are so 'in love?'” Jack quipped in a mocking tone.

“Because you're acting like this!!! Bro, it’s serious with her. Just let me fucking explain. Jack, just listen to me.” Trent pleaded fluctuating between impatience and desperation.

“Fine, talk bro! But honestly, the more I deep it, the more I’m thinking I can’t let this go, mate. It’s fucked up. Sneaking around with her? You were supposed to be my best friend, and you… you crossed the line.” Jack tone settled mildly and he stepped back a little dropping the idea of a physical altercation.

“I crossed a line because I love her, not to hurt you. I am your best friend but the things you keep saying about me have me questioning things Jack.” Trent stepped closer, not to fight, but to keep him in range where he could see the sincerity and hurt in his own eyes.

“Mate, you are my best friend. I’m sorry I said shit that wasn’t 100% true the other night. I was angry. But I’ve also seen you with girls before and I don’t want Y/N treated that way. I’m not having Y/N coming home crying because you decide to ghost her like the rest,” Jack said, his tone sharp.

“This, Jack! This is why we hid it from you.” Trent yelled. Jack puffed out air running his hands over his face trying to compose himself. His head was spinning, he was so hurt, he couldn’t see straight. But his silence only aggravated Trent. .“Wow… Alright, so that’s what you think of your best mate?… Like what am I to you or who do you think I am if you wouldn’t trust me with Y/N?” Trent asked harshly, frustratedly. His past wasn’t squeaky clean but he’d never been anything but good to you. He was tired of Jack talking about him like this awful guy. He took a deep breath in an effort to salvage a lifelong friendship. “Jack, I know. I know it’s fucked up, and I tried not to… for years.” His tone was softer but insistent. “I swear to you, mate, this wasn’t part of some big plan. I didn’t go after her. She didn’t come after me. It just… happened.” Trent tried to explain earnestly.

“That’s not enough of a reason though, Trent.” Jack interjected, his voice cracking. “She’s all I’ve got left, man. I fucking told you this! Our mum’s gone. My dad fucking left us. She’s the only thing holding it all together for me. I got you and I got her and now… you’ve made it so I have neither.” Jack’s words started flaring with temper but they faded into sheer sadness and hurt, tears were building in his eyes. It was childish to claim you like a toy, to place blame, but his emotions made him feel like a little kid again. And so the two boys who’d shared their whole lives together, shared everything including you, now shared hurt, stood facing one another laying it all out in the open finally, raw and vulnerable.

“Jack…you always have me bro. You and me are so close, you’re like my third brother, mate. But you can’t pretend like you didn’t know there was something there all these years. And I’m sorry there is. But it’s there and it’s what I want and she wants too. Please. I’m coming to you to ask. I will do what you want here. I will, but you have to just please… have a think about this because neither she or I want to be apart... but neither she or I want to have you this angry with us.” Trent said heartbreakingly honestly, his voice trembling with desperation.

“Us?” Jack snapped quickly hearing Trent lump you two together officially as a pair. Tent sighed before he began his next monologue.

“I love her, Jack. I’d never hurt her, and I’d do anything to protect her—even if it meant letting her go but you’ll be breaking my heart and hers if that’s what you want us to do. But if that’s what it takes for you to forgive her, I’ll do it for her. She’s miserable without you, she loves you, and I know she won’t move forward with me unless you’re okay with it.” Trent pleaded. Jack stared at him, his chest heaving with the weight of his emotions.

“You’re like my brother Trent and that’s why I just…. I can’t. What if I can’t be okay with it?” he asked, his voice quieter but still laced with bitterness and hurt. Jack knew he sounded childish but he just felt so betrayed.

“Then you’re both stuck. And she deserves better than that. You both do. Y/N needs you bro, so if that means her and I not seeing each other for her to get you back, for me to get you back as a friend… fine but you just gotta know it will destroy me, but I’d do it if it kept you and her all good.” Trent replied, starting to feel his own emotions rise. He felt sick laying out the possibility of giving you up. “But please, mate. She’s not just someone I care about. She’s it for me. I don’t want to lose her, but I also don’t want her losing you. Just… give me a chance to prove this can work.” Jack ran a hand down his face, his body sagging as the anger began to wane. He looked at Trent, his eyes glossy. Trent puffed out some air heavy with nerves as he tried to find the right words. “I understand this is your sister,” Trent began again, his voice steady but full of urgency. “But you’ve been my best friend my entire life. You know me, Jack. When I’ve been in proper relationships, I’ve never once cheated. Never. You can’t fault me for being the guy I am when I’m single.” Jack’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt, so Trent pressed on. “Fine,” he admitted, exhaling sharply, “maybe you’re right. I’ve told girls I loved them when I didn’t mean it. But this is different. I swear, since—” He paused, choosing his words carefully. He was walking a fine line. “I know you’ll hate to hear this, but since the first time I kissed her, I’ve never even looked at another girl. Not once.” Trent leaned forward, his voice lowering, as if confessing something sacred. Then Trent uncontrollably quietly let out a small bashful laugh to himself. “Honestly, even before all this, I’ve never looked at anyone the way I look at her. It’s been slow, Jack, and it’s been hard, but I’ve never been so head over heels in love with someone like I am with Y/N. She’s it for me, man. I know it. And you know it too. You know we click. Everyone has always known.” Jack made an unintentional face of disgust, shifting uncomfortably in his stance. He ran a hand over his face again, clearly grappling with his emotions. Of course, he’d known, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it. He wasn’t stupid. He’d seen it in the way Trent watched you, the way he always lit up around you. And you, god, it was the most blatant crush on planet earth but Jack belittled your feelings for his best mate; brushing them off because he couldn’t stomach it ever being mutual. The retrospective thoughts came flying in; how could he have let you run around the back garden in little bikinis with all his friend’s over every summer. Of course, Trent lit up, all the other boy’s did too. He felt stupid. He hated that he’d let it get this far. But he also knew this was not trivial, not anymore. Not some cheeky comment passing by each other in the kitchen late at night, not some childhood crush, no. You were in love with Trent. Trent was in love with you. And who was Jack to deny you of love? He couldn’t but he was your big brother and so if someone did love you, it would at least come with a threat.

“She’s been through so much already, Trent. She can’t handle losing another person in her life.” Jack spoke hesitantly. Trent nodded, listening closer than ever because he hadn’t heard a ‘no’ yet. “If you hurt her…” Jack picked up his gaze and looked at Trent sternly.

“I won’t,” Trent interjected, his voice firm, almost desperate. Jack stared at him, his expression softening slightly. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s not losing me,” Jack said, his voice quieter now. Trent’s heart rate picked up… this felt like the decisive moment, “and I guess she doesn’t have to lose you either.” The begrudging but earnest acceptance in Jack’s tone was enough to make Trent’s shoulders relax. He nodded, swallowing hard.

“Thank you, mate,” he said earnestly. “I’m really sorry it happened this way, bro. But I promise I won’t let you—or her—down.” Trent tried to reassure him. Jack shook his head, leaning back against the wall.

“You better not. If you mess this up…” Jack muttered accepting that he was giving Trent a go ahead.

“I won’t,” Trent promised, his voice resolute. “You have my word.” Jack let out a long, shaky breath before nodding slightly again. He felt like they had physically fought, he was drained but as he looked at Trent, the hurt dwindled, and relief started to rise. He was relieved that if there was anyone to look after you, he was glad it was his best friend making that promise. A promise he hoped he could keep.

“I’m not thrilled about you lot lying to me still…” Jack reiterated just to be clear.

“Course. And I’m sorry.” Trent jumped eagerly.

“But for her sake…” His voice broke coming to terms with it all. “For her sake and for my best mate… “ Jack’s eyes flicked to Trent’s with a glimmer of love for him and for you. “Give it go. She’d never forgive me if I stopped you.” Jack smirked. Relief washed over Trent’s face as he stepped forward and pulled Jack into a brotherly hug.

“Thank you, bro. I probably wouldn’t forgive you either.” Trent teased, probably too soon. A cheeky laugh slipping out.

“Fuck off.” Jack chuckled, shoving him away with a shake of the head. But then Jack moved to clap him on the back. He still wasn’t sure if he could stomach when the time came and he actually had to see you two together, but deep down, he knew Trent wouldn’t be going anywhere. And maybe, just maybe, that was okay because after all he was his best friend.

You’d been avoiding Jack like the plague, dodging his calls and texts, unable to face him after everything. You hadn’t even gone home, opting instead to camp out at Layla’s. She didn’t say much about it—she just let you take over her couch, her wine, and her ear whenever you felt like talking. But mostly, you didn’t talk. You stewed, overthinking everything, torn between guilt and longing. And then there was Trent. He hadn’t pushed you, even though he wanted to. He gave you the space you didn’t want but desperately needed, keeping his distance even as it visibly ate at him. He didn’t bombard you with messages or call relentlessly, no matter how much it must have pained him. Instead, he took matters into his own hands. You had no idea that Trent went to talk to Jack. Your phone had been off as you holed up in Layla’s apartment, sinking deeper into your own head. Every scenario ran through your mind. It was starting to feel like you had to pick a side, and the weight of it was unbearable.

After your night with Trent, your heart was even more torn. You didn’t want to let him go. You couldn’t. But you didn’t know how to face Jack, either. You were paralyzed by the thought of it. If you saw Jack first, maybe the guilt would crush you, forcing you to give Trent up. The idea was excruciating. So you stayed at Layla’s, hiding from the world, hoping somehow it would all resolve itself before you had to make a choice. Little did you know, Trent had already decided that he wasn’t going to let you choose. Not between them, at least. He’d gone to Jack, laying it all out, begging for the chance to prove himself worthy of you.

You were standing in Layla’s kitchen while she was still at work when Jack appeared in the doorway, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his posture uneasy. His expression was hard to read—equal parts guilt, anger, and regret. You pretended not to notice him, focusing instead on your cup of tea. It had been days since you’d spoken, days you spent avoiding him. The silence between you had grown so heavy it felt impossible to break.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked, his voice tentative but louder than you’d expected. “I figured you must be here but Y/N, god, I was worried. A text would’ve been nice.” He quipped but with some normalcy in his voice that confused you. You stiffened, still not meeting his gaze.

“Why would you care about a slut?” you spat, the bitterness in your voice catching you both off guard. He had calmed after speaking with Trent but now it felt like the wound reopened.

“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Jack replied quickly, and surely, his tone sharp but layered with an unmistakable note of regret.

“Wow, thanks,” you said, glancing at him with narrowed eyes before turning away again.

“Nah, come on. We need to talk. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean those things, and you know it,” he said, stepping into the kitchen. His voice was firm, but his shoulders sagged under the weight of the conversation.

“Didn’t mean it?” you snapped, spinning to face him fully. “You said I was slutting myself out. That Trent didn’t love me. You said it, Jack. And you meant it.” You bit back frustrated and hurt. Jack winced, the pain in your voice cutting deep. He let out a shaky breath and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I was angry. I shouldn’t have responded that way and I shouldn’t have called you those things, alright?” He replied. You stared at him, your chest tight, your throat burning with unshed tears.

“But you did and it hurt Jack. You think I’ve ruined everything, that I’ve ruined you and me, and him and you…all because I… because I love him?” Your voice cracked, and you cursed yourself for showing just how much his words had hurt. But then you caught your breath trying to refocus and get your thoughts out. “But you’re also the one ruining things because you’re being petty about this. What about him and I? Have you even thought about us” You whimpered. Emotions crashing back over you. You’d been asking that same question to yourself for days. What about you and Trent? “I know we shouldn’t have hidden it but you’re the one who is driving me away from you. And now my heart hurts so bad Jack because you’ve driven me away from him. I love you but I also love him. I need you both but you can’t say I’m the one ruining everything.” Jack’s frown deepened, his lips pressing into a thin line. He moved closer, closing the space between you. Jack’s heart ached. He never wanted to hurt you, he’d spent his whole life trying to protect you from hurt and now to hear you say that he was the one causing it was horrible. He needed to let go of his pride.

“It’s not about ruining anything Y/N. It’s just—” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t know how to deal with you and him.”

“Why?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that I didn’t plan this, especially not to hurt you? That I didn’t mean for any of this to happen? It wasn’t about you.” You snapped a little harsher.

“But it became that way because you lied!.” Jack burst out, throwing his hands in the air. The conversation swung back with a more tense momentum. “He’s my best mate! He’s been around my entire life, and you… you’re you. You’re my sister.” The room swinging further away from sadness and straight into aggression and then back again. “You’re the only thing I’ve got left, With dad off wherever the fuck his latest job is and mum gone… Y/N, I’m so sorry I hurt you. I never want that.” His voice cracked as his emotions bubbled to the surface. The anger seconds ago dissipating. Jack couldn’t hide behind anger anymore, he was hurt. “And then it felt like I could possibly lose both of you.” He whimpered. You never saw Jack like this. Rarely did he let emotions out especially vulnerable ones, one’s that made him weak but here he was looking more like a hurt little boy than ever before. Tears pricked your eyes, and you couldn’t hold them back any longer.

“You’re not losing me, Jack. The only reason you’d lose anyone is if you really genuinely are against this,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “But it feels like you’re trying to force me into making me choose, and I can’t. I won’t.” Jack’s expression softened, the anger fading as he saw the pain etched across your face.

“I’m not asking you to choose,” he said quietly, his tone almost broken. “I’m just trying to figure out how to deal with this. It’s like… like I knew you liked him but the lies… you’d never lied to me, he’d never lied to me and this hurt.” He continued. You let out a shaky breath, wiping at your tears.

“Do you think this was easy for me or even for him? Do you think I wanted to fall for him, knowing how much it would hurt us? I’ve spent my whole life putting you first, Jack. And I appreciate what you’ve done for me but the way you talked to me the other day was unfair because I’m not ‘slutting myself out’ for Trent, I’m in love with him. This… this thing with him just happened. But it was meant to happen for ages. I’m sorry I lied, that we lied… but I won’t apologize for loving him.” Jack flinched at your confession but didn’t look away. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the words hanging in the air between you.

“I’m scared,” he finally admitted, his voice raw. “I’m scared he’ll hurt you. I’m scared you’ll end up heartbroken, and I won’t know how to fix it.” He told you earnestly. Tears streamed freely down your face as you stepped closer.

“Jack, I’m scared too,” you said. “But I think he loves me and I love him. And I need you to trust that, even if it’s hard.” Jack studied you, his jaw tightening as he fought against his own emotions. Finally, he let out a long sigh, nodding slowly. For the first time in days, the tension between you eased, leaving room for something fragile but hopeful to take its place.

“He does love you.” He confirmed. “But you’ve known that,” Jack admitted with a regretful huff, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his confession.

“Yeah?” you asked, your tone more sincere than anything else. “Why do you say that?” you asked, there was a tinge of tease but not yet, it wasn’t the time. Jack groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I don’t really want to talk about it. It makes me a little sick to think about.” He winced, visibly cringing at the idea of imaging you and Trent together.

“Jack…” you pressed, your voice soft but insistent. Jack let out a defeated sigh, shaking his head.

“Well, he was actually mad at me. Pissed, even, so that’s new. He came to me begging for you.” He looked at you sheepishly, clearly uncomfortable with the topic but determined to still talk.

“Wait, wait, wait…. You’ve talked to him? He came begging!? And you’re just bringing this up now? You’ve talked to him?” You yelped anxiously, excitedly, inquisitively. “Jack, what the fuck! What did he say!?” You pleaded for information.

“Yes, I spoke with him and yes, he loves you.” Jack disgruntledly got out while you internally screamed. “But can we just get through my apology piece?” He asked calmly so you nodded, gesturing with your hand for him to keep going. “Because I’m sorry Y/N. I really am. You are none of the things I said. Not one of them. And Trenty doesn’t actually treat girls the way I was saying, you know. And I know he’s never treated you the way I said.” You blinked, his words and the switch catching you off guard.

“I mean… he never treated me that way and I knew that,” you admitted, the hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m not stupid, Jack. Before me, you guys weren’t exactly a friend group of saints.” You pulled out a chair at Layla’s kitchen table and patted the surface of it, trying to keep the mood light. Jack followed your lead, sitting down with you a slight laugh escaping.

“I resent that,” he said, a playful smirk softening his features. The tension between you seemed to ease, the conversation shifting to something more bearable.

“You have to talk to him though because he wants what you want,” Jack said after a moment, his tone growing serious again. “And I’d rather not lose my best friend… and you, obviously. Me and him are fine… shitty but fine. I get it, you’re very lovable.” He cooed gently as you leaned your head onto his shoulder. “So now it’s on you two to hash whatever it is out and if you want to give it a go…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely with his hands, his discomfort with the situation palpable. “It’s disgusting, and I’ll hate it, but if you… you know.” You couldn’t help but smile at his awkward attempt at giving his blessing.

“I don’t need your approval,” you teased, though the look in your eyes betrayed how much it meant to you. “But it’s helpful. I’ll see if he’ll talk to me again.” Jack rolled his eyes, but there was a faint smile on his face.

“He will. As much as I wish he was stupid enough not too, he’s not.” He kissed the top of your head with a playful aggression and shoved you away from him a little creating some distance teasingly. You smiled appreciating that you had your brother back. The jack that would kiss your head one moment, and shove you the next. “So, if you two get together, I’m gonna have to deal with him even more, aren’t I?” He looked at you with a cheeky smile.

“Probably,” you said with a grin. Jack groaned sarcastically and dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “And you’ll love it too.” You flashed him a big toothy smile.

“Oh that’s great. Just great.” He laughed. You giggled, the sound light and full of relief. For the first time in days, things felt a little less broken between you and your brother. But then the room fell silent and not comfortable. Jack had more to say and you could feel it. You weren’t out of the woods in the way you thought you might’ve been. The pendulum of emotions kept swinging.

“Y/N… you’re so important to me. I’m sorry I said those things,” Jack began, his voice soft but thick with emotion. He cleared his throat, looking down at his hands as he spoke. “It was the heat of the moment, and even though it was wrong, I just… I was protecting myself from the hurt. The idea of losing you to someone else—even to Trent—hurt.” You felt a lump rise in your throat, his sincerity cutting through all the tension and hurt that had built between you.

“Jack,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m always yours. You’re all I have. I never meant to hurt you or hide anything. It was just… scary because, you know…” You hesitated, tears welling in your eyes. “I… I’ve always loved him. And I’m sorry it ended up being your best friend, but—” Jack held up a hand, cutting you off gently.

“I know,” he said with a small, sad smile. “It’s fine. Mum used to always tell me you were my best bet at getting a brother in the family. I guess if you’re with Trent, he’s locked in as my best mate, then…” He let out a soft laugh, the teasing edge in his voice doing little to hide the bittersweetness of his words. You couldn’t help but smile through your tears.

“Yeah, well, she was rarely wrong.” You cooed imagining your mum urging you to tell Trent you loved him in writing. Jack nodded, his expression softening as he looked at you.

“She was rarely wrong,” he repeated quietly. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“I’m going to go, okay?” you murmured against his shoulder, your voice gentle. Jack pulled back slightly, his eyes narrowing playfully.

“Yeah, where?” he teased, though you both knew the answer. You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the grin that spread across your face.

“Where do you think?” You teased him back.

“Noahs?” he said jokingly, shaking his head with a mock sigh. You shot him an annoyed look. “Too soon? Sorry.” He smiled and you laughed, swiping at your lingering tears as you stood up. “Just tell him what you want. But don’t get too comfortable, yeah? I’m still keeping an eye on him.” He looked at you as he stood up beside you. He had to leave Layla’s afterall too. “Love you so so much.” He wrapped you in another tight embrace before he let go.

“I will. Love you Jacky boy, more than anything.” And as you walked away, the warmth of his acceptance settled deep in your chest. For the first time in what felt like forever, things between you and Jack felt like they might actually be okay, Maybe if Trent wanted this too you could make it all work, maybe this would work.

You drove straight to Trent’s, Jack’s begrudging yet loving approval filling you with a mixture of relief and nervous energy. Your fingers tightened around the steering wheel as you pulled up outside his house. The plan had been impulsive—Trent needed to know—but as you sat there staring at his door, doubt started to creep in. You almost turned the car around, but instead, you grabbed your phone and clicked his contact.

“T…” you said softly, your voice tinged with hesitation.

“Baby, hey, you alright?” He answered almost immediately. His tone was cautious, unsure, as though he wasn’t sure if this was the call that would end everything. “You called…” He said vaguely. While he got his go ahead from Jack he didn’t know what you’d think. Maybe it all had been too much. Maybe you didn’t think it was worth it. But then your voice cut off the ones in his head.

“I’m outside. I hope that’s okay,” you admitted, awkwardly glancing at his house.

“Fuck, really?” he yelped, his surprise palpable. You hummed nervously in response, hoping the reaction was a good one. It was, but you had no idea what he was thinking. Trent had no clue Jack had spoken to you, let alone that Jack had finally given his blessing—albeit begrudgingly. Trent didn’t know what Jack had told you or how you felt after your talk with him. For all he knew, this could’ve been you showing up to end things officially.

“Yeah, um… Should I not?” you asked, suddenly worried.

“No! No, don’t leave,” Trent said quickly. His voice was breathless with urgency, almost as if he’d leapt off the couch. Taking a deep breath, you hung up the phone and stepped out of the car. Trent rushed to meet you in the drive of his house.

“C’mere,” Trent murmured, his voice low and steady, as he tugged you gently into his arms. He pressed his lips to yours in a kiss that was soft yet insistent, grounding you in a way nothing else could. His touch was familiar, his scent warm and calming, yet your stomach twisted with nerves. When he pulled back slightly, his thumb grazed your cheek as he looked at you, his expression serious.

“I didn’t hear from you yet. I didn’t want to pressure you, so… I’m sorry for—” You attempted to rattle on, you opened your mouth to keep on, but he leaned in again, unable to resist now that you were back in his proximity, cutting off your words with another kiss, deeper this time. His lips moved against yours with an urgency that spoke volumes, as if he was trying to make you feel every emotion he couldn’t yet put into words.

“I just didn’t want to bother you or upset you more,” he finally admitted, his forehead resting against yours. His warm breath fanned your face. “I wanted you to take your space, baby. Whatever you needed but….” The affection and thoughtfulness in his voice made your chest ache, and you nodded quickly, biting your lip as tears threatened to spill. But then Trent pulled back entirely, his hands falling to his sides, and something flickered in his expression—fear. Real, raw fear that startled you more than anything. “Baby,” he started hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck. He looked like he was preparing himself for the worst. “I talked to Jack but I still hadn’t heard from you…” He exhaled shakily, his gaze darting away before landing back on yours. “So… is this…. Is this not what you want to do? Or—or maybe I’m not what you want.”

“No.” The word left you instantly, instinctively. You shook your head, your heart lurching at the vulnerability in his voice. “I want you. Trust me. So, so much.” You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “But I talked to Jack too.” At that, Trent stilled. His body tensed, and he searched your face like he was bracing himself for a blow. His lips parted slightly, but no words came out. “He said he was sorry,” you finally continued, your voice careful and slow, trying to convey what you needed to say. “He doesn’t want to lose you as a friend.” Trent blinked, and for a moment, you could see the relief flood his features. But his shoulders didn’t quite relax, and you realized he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, bracing himself for a blow.

“Can we talk about us?” he asked cautiously, his voice soft but edged with apprehension. “Or… did you come here for him?” Trent’s mind was scrambled. He couldn’t decide where you were at. Was that just a goodbye kiss?

“No.” You stepped closer, your hands trembling slightly as they slid up to rest on his chest before curling around his neck. You clearly weren’t articulating your thoughts well. So you puffed out some air to reset. “No, I’m here for me. For us.” His hands landed on your waist, but his grip was tentative, unsure. You could see it in his eyes too. “But if—if this is too much for you,” you babbled, the words tumbling out in a rush before you could stop them. “I guess… I guess that’s fine. I mean, it’s not fine. It’s awful. It sucks, and it makes me feel sick, but I’d rather know than be dragged along. If you don’t want this, if you don’t want me, just—”

“Y/N,” Trent interrupted gently, his voice steady but firm. His hands came up to cup your face, holding you in place as his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that silenced your spiraling thoughts. “Stop. Do you love me?” He asked you point blank. You looked back at him petrified by your own answer. You could only nod slowly. “And I love you.” He told you earnestly. Your breath caught in your throat at his words. They felt like a balm, but the sting of doubt still lingered.

“Are you just saying that?” you whispered, your voice trembling. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked at him, scared to believe it, scared to hope. “I know you’ve said it before…”

“No.” Trent’s response was immediate, his tone unwavering, his big, doe-like eyes boring into yours with a sincerity that stole the air from your lungs. “Not to you. It’s different.”

“Different?” you repeated skeptically, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Y/N,” he said again, his voice soft but filled with so much conviction that it made your knees weak. His thumbs stroked your cheeks, brushing away the tears that had started to fall. “I love you. You. It’s different because I’ve only ever wanted it to be you.” The rawness of his confession, the vulnerability in his voice, cracked through every wall you had left. A sob escaped your lips as you leaned into him, your arms tightening around his neck. And this time, when Trent kissed you, it wasn’t rushed or frantic or uncertain. It was steady, sure, and filled with so much love that it made your heart feel like it might burst. In that moment, everything else faded away. There was no Jack, no fear, no doubt—just you and Trent, wrapped up in each other, holding on as tightly as you could.

As you stepped into Trent’s house, it felt different. The air was alive with chatter, laughter, and warmth—a house full of life, full of family. Trent’s entire family were all over for a meal, a complete family. It was familiar yet bittersweet, stirring something deep inside you that made your chest ache. The feeling of your own tattered, rose within you. You hesitated just inside the door, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag, you hadn’t realized his entire family was over, you wiped under your eye hoping your mascara hadn’t run from all the crying outside.

“Well, c’mon, pretty girl,” Trent teased, his voice soft but encouraging as he reached for your hand. “Look perfect, yeah?” He kissed your temple. His touch was grounding, and you nodded, letting him guide you further inside.

“Mum, brought you a present!” The moment you crossed the threshold into the living room, Trent’s playful voice rang out. You barely had time to process what he said before Dianne turned around, her face lighting up with pure joy. Her gasp was loud and genuine as her hands flew to her chest.

“Oh, my beautiful girl! Haven’t seen you in ages!” she exclaimed, rushing forward to wrap you in one of her signature cuddles—warm, tight, and overflowing with love. You couldn’t help but laugh, a little nervously but genuinely touched by her reaction.

“Hi, Di,” you greeted, the nickname rolling off your tongue like you’d never stopped using it. “Missed you too.” And you meant it. You had missed her. Missed them. It hit you then just how much you’d been avoiding—his family, the normalcy of it all. For months, you’d been hiding, sneaking around, building a secret world with Trent that kept the rest of life at arm’s length. But standing here now, surrounded by the warmth of his home and his family, you realized how much you’d longed for this, how much you’d missed it without even knowing. Dianne pulled back just enough to hold you at arm’s length, studying your face with a motherly concern that made your heart squeeze.

“You look tired, love. Are you eating enough? How’s everything been?” Before you could answer, Trent chuckled, stepping beside you and placing a protective arm around your waist.

“Mum, let her breathe. She just got here.” He cooed gently.

“Oh, hush, you,” Dianne said, swatting at him playfully before turning her attention back to you. “It’s just so good to see you, darling. Really.” The rest of the room had gone quieter, eyes subtly drifting toward you. Trent’s brothers and cousins were scattered about, their curious gazes darting between you and him. It wasn’t judgmental—more like surprise. His brothers in particular looks lingered a little longer. You’d been an idea for so long, Jack’s little sister, a punchline tease about a crush, and now here you were, hand in hand with Trent, a silent statement you both had yet to put into words.

“Come sit, love,” Dianne insisted, pulling you toward the sofa. “Tell me everything. Where have you been darling? And don’t even think about saying you’ve been too busy for us, because I know someone has been stealing some of your time.” She cooed smugly with a sly smile. Trent let you go with a small nudge of encouragement, his eyes soft as he watched you settle in. The house was bustling, and the atmosphere was undeniably warm, but your heart still raced. This wasn’t just a visit. It was an unveiling, a step into the life you and Trent had been building together, one that no longer hid in the shadows. And as you sat there, laughing nervously at Dianne’s endless questions and catching the amused glances from his brother’s, Trent sat beside you, his knee brushing against yours in quiet reassurance. His hand found yours again, resting between you, a silent but steady reminder.

When it was time for lunch, the table was buzzing with chatter, a mix of laughter and overlapping conversations as everyone dug into the food on the back garden’s patio. The late afternoon sun cast a golden glow over everything, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself relax. You were seated between Dianne and Trent, with his brothers and cousins scattered around the table. Across from you, Michael, his dad, had a kind smile on his face as he passed a dish of roasted vegetables. It felt warm, natural, like you belonged here. Dianne leaned closer to you, her voice soft but affectionate as she reached for your hand.

“Gosh, hun, more and more you look just like your mum,” she said with a wistful smile. The way the sun caught the highlight of your cheek bone reminding her of her friend. You felt your throat tighten slightly at the mention of your mum, but before you could respond, Michael chimed in.

“She was beautiful, lovely too,” he said warmly and fondly. Your parents were all close, they had to be because of Jack and Trent and since her passing, the subject of your mum was never taboo. You liked to hear about her but it still ached every time. “Your dad’s a good man as well, but we don’t see him as much anymore.” Micheal cooed gently. You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to keep your voice steady.

“Yeah, we don’t see him much either…” you trailed off, the weight of the words sitting heavy in the air for a moment but you forced a quiet chuckle. “But I have Jack,” you added, trying to lighten the mood, though the words came out softer than you intended. The mention of Jack stung though, a fresh reminder of the recent tension between you two. You’d spoken to him, yes, you got the approval, yes, and you were with Trent now but things still felt fractured, and saying his name aloud made it all feel so much more real.

“And me, baby,” Trent’s voice broke through your thoughts, grounding you as he leaned over to kiss your temple. His lips lingered there for a moment, warm and reassuring. You blinked up at him, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the emotions swirling inside you. Dianne’s eyes sparkled as she bit her lip, clearly overjoyed to see Trent openly showing you affection.

“We’re always here too, hun,” Dianne said gently, her voice filled with sincerity. “You know that, right? If you ever need anything. And I’m sure you’ve got your girlfriends—Layla and the lot—but you can always come to me if you need to complain about him.” She grinned, pinching at Trent’s side playfully.

“Oi, Mum!” Trent yelped, laughing as he leaned away from her. The exchange made you laugh too, the sound bubbling up from somewhere deep, lifting the heaviness that had been following you. It felt good to be here, to be surrounded by a full, loving family.

“I mean it,” Dianne continued, her tone softening again as she gave your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You’re always a part of our family, sweetheart. Always.” Her words hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t just something she was saying to be polite—she meant it. You felt it in every gesture, every glance, every word. And as you looked around the table, at Trent’s brothers bickering good-naturedly, at Michael’s quiet but warm presence, and at Trent himself, who was watching you with a small, knowing smile, you realized something. For the first time in days, you didn’t feel alone.

After the plates were cleared and the last of the food put away, you found yourself in the kitchen with Dianne, sleeves rolled up as the two of you tackled the dishes. The conversation flowed easily—lighthearted banter about Trent’s childhood clumsiness, teasing remarks about his brothers and Jack, and a few loving jabs at how much trouble he probably gave you. But then, as you placed the last dish on the drying rack, Dianne turned to you. Her warm, knowing eyes searched your face, and before you could even process what was happening, she wrapped her arms around you. Not a polite hug, but a real one. One that broke through all the walls you’d built up.

“It’ll all be okay,” she whispered softly, her voice filled with maternal certainty. The words pierced through your defenses, as if she could see every ounce of your hurt—the tension in your shoulders, the weight you carried in your chest, the unspoken pain in your eyes. You wanted to believe her. You really did. You managed a small, faux smile, nodding in acknowledgment before mumbling something about needing the bathroom. You slipped away quickly, your steps echoing faintly as you walked down the corridor. The further you got from the kitchen, the tighter your chest felt. When you reached the bathroom, you locked the door behind you, your hands trembling slightly as you gripped the edge of the sink. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the cracks in your carefully crafted facade starting to show. And then it hit you. The tidal wave of everything you’d been holding back came crashing down all at once—the mess you’d made by sneaking around with Trent, the guilt over the hurt you’d caused Jack, the overwhelming love and validation you finally felt from Trent, the emptiness of missing your parents and the family you once had. It was all too much. Your chest heaved as you choked out a sob, tears streaming down your face uncontrollably. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to stifle the sounds, but it was no use. The floodgates had opened, and there was no stopping it now. You slid down to the floor, your back pressed against the door as you hugged your knees to your chest. The emotions swirled together, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. You didn’t even know how long you stayed like that, lost in the storm of your feelings before you stood back up attempting to calm yourself down but one look back at yourself in the mirror set you off again.

Trent had been watching you all afternoon, a quiet intensity in his gaze. He noticed the small shifts in your demeanor: how your laugh didn’t quite reach your eyes, how you stared off into the distance when you thought no one was looking, and the faint tremor in your hands as you helped Dianne clear the table. He could feel it in his gut—something wasn’t right. When you excused yourself to the bathroom, he waited. At first, he thought maybe you just needed a moment to yourself, but when you didn’t return after several minutes, unease settled over him like a heavy fog. He got up and followed you, his footsteps hesitant but purposeful. He pushed the door open gently and froze at the sight of you. You were leaning over the sink, your hands gripping the edge so tightly that your knuckles were a shade lighter. Your body shook with silent sobs, tears streaming down your face. You didn’t even notice him come in at first, too lost in your emotions to register his presence.

“Baby,” he said softly, his voice cutting through the stillness of the room.Your head snapped up, and when your tear-streaked eyes met his, the dam broke completely. The sobs you’d been holding back came pouring out, raw and unrestrained. “Baby, hey, what’s wrong?” Trent asked, rushing to your side. His hands found your face, cupping it gently as his thumbs wiped at your tears, though they kept falling faster than he could keep up. “Talk to me.”

“I—I don’t know,” you stammered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you were feeling. “It’s just… when your mum hugged me, she really hugged me. And it just—it broke me, T.” Trent’s brows knitted together in concern, his hands still cradling your face.

“That’s a good thing, though, pretty girl.” he told you, his voice low and careful. You nodded, but a fresh wave of tears spilled down your cheeks.

“It is. It is, but it made me feel so much all at once. It made me think about my mum and dad and how much I miss them. And then Jack—I’ve hurt him so much, and I just—I feel like I’ve made such a mess of everything.” Your words came out in a torrent, your chest heaving with the effort of getting them out. Trent’s heart broke for you. He hated seeing you like this, so overwhelmed and lost. Without another word, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you tightly.

“Hey, hey, shh,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he stroked your back. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m here, okay? You’ve got me. We decided that, yeah?” You clung to him, your fingers curling into his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping you grounded.

“I need this to work, T,” you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. “I can’t lose all of this. I can’t lose you.” Your panic was an onslaught of imagining your life with anymore loss. Whatever this was with Trent, it needed to work. Trent leaned back slightly, just enough to cup your face again. He tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him. His dark eyes were full of unwavering determination, his jaw set.

“You’re not going to lose me,” he said firmly, his voice thick with emotion. “You have me, baby. You’ve always had me, and you always will. We’ll figure it all out, I promise. We’re moving forward. I love you.” Your tears slowed as his words wrapped around your heart like a lifeline. You nodded, sniffing softly.

“Okay,” you whispered, though the fear still lingered in your chest. “I love you too.” You pouted. Trent pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

“You’re allowed to feel everything you’re feeling,” he said gently. “But don’t ever think for a second that you’re alone with it. You’re not. Not as long as I’m here.” You exhaled shakily, your body relaxing slightly against his.

“I just… I don’t know how to fix everything,” you admitted, your voice small.

“We’ll fix it together,” Trent promised, his hands moving to hold yours. “One step at a time, okay? No rush, no pressure. Just us.” The sincerity in his voice made your chest ache in a different way—one filled with hope instead of despair. You squeezed his hands, grounding yourself in his presence.

“Okay,” you whispered again, this time with a little more strength. Trent smiled, leaning down to kiss you softly.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured against your lips. “I’ve got you and we’ve got this.” And you believed him.

When you came home, it felt almost surreal. The house was quiet except for the faint sounds of a basketball game playing on the TV in the living room. Your footsteps echoed slightly as you set your bag down by the door, the weight of the day still heavy on your shoulders. You glanced around the space, noticing little things that made it feel unmistakably like home—Jack’s trainers kicked off haphazardly by the door, a half-empty glass of water on the kitchen counter, and his jacket thrown over the back of a chair. It wasn’t much, but it was familiar.

“Hey,” you called out hesitantly, stepping further inside. Jack’s head turned slightly from where he was slouched on the couch, eyes fixed on the game.

“Hey,” he replied casually, but there was a softness to his tone that hadn’t been there before. You walked over and plopped down next to him, your body sinking into the worn cushions. You didn’t say anything at first, just letting the sounds of the game fill the silence between you. Jack glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk forming on his face.

“So, you his girlfriend yet?” he teased, his voice light but with an underlying curiosity and begrudgement. You groaned, tilting your head back dramatically.

“No…” you replied, rolling your eyes but unable to stop a small smile from tugging at your lips. “We just had lunch. His parents were over.” Jack raised an eyebrow, sitting up slightly.

“Oh yeah? Big Mike cook up?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, nodding. “It was good… the usual.” There was a moment of silence where you could feel Jack processing your words. His eyes flicked back to the screen, but you could tell his mind wasn’t on the game anymore.

“That’s nice,” he said finally, his tone softer now. “It’s been a minute since I’ve been over there. Feels weird.” He admitted. Trent and him hadn’t spent a lot of time together alone since you started this whole thing. And so naturally, Jack hadn’t seen Trent’s family, or even his house in a while. You nodded, biting your lip.

“Yeah, I guess it does.” The guilt twisted in your stomach again, the thought of how much Jack had been left out hitting you harder than you expected. You noticed the shift in his mood. “But I’m getting hungry again so for dinner… want me to make something?” you asked hesitantly but with an idea already in mind. Jack hummed.

You tucked off to the kitchen, the weight of the day lingering but softened by the comfort of routine. You pulled out everything you needed to make your mum’s go-to fix-all meal, one that seemed to soothe whatever needed soothing—hearts, stomachs, spats after footy matches, lately you and Trent, or even broken family dynamics. It was the one dish that seemed to make everything feel a little less heavy—something you’d both grown up with and carried into your adult lives. Cooking it now felt like a small bridge back to the way things used to be. The familiar rhythm of slicing, stirring, and seasoning was grounding, a small act of care in a world that sometimes felt too overwhelming. Jack wandered into the kitchen not long after, drawn by the scent wafting through the air. He leaned against the doorway, his arms crossed. For a moment, he didn’t say anything, just watched you slice vegetables with a quiet fondness. The tension between you two had been unbearable lately, but right now, watching you cook, it felt like home again.

“Aw, Y/N… you’re actually the best,” he finally said, his voice breaking the silence as he tilted his head with that familiar crooked smile that always made you feel like his little sister, no matter how grown up you were. You smirked, not looking up from your chopping.

“And to think you were going to let me go…” you teased, the words light but carrying just a hint of seriousness. Jack straightened slightly, his expression softening as he stepped further into the room.

“Y/N…” he said quietly, his voice low and steady, the usual teasing gone, now it was laced with regret. He pushed off the doorway and moved to sit at the kitchen island, his eyes fixed on you. “I wasn’t actually going to do anything. I was hurt, yeah, but I love you. You’re my little sister. I just… I care. A lot.” He cooed. You paused for a moment, letting his words sink in before humming quietly. Your hands slowed as his words hit you, and you glanced at him over your shoulder. The corners of your mouth tugged upward into a small, appreciative smile.

“I know,” you said softly , your voice just above a whisper but filled with sincerity. You glanced over at him, offering a small smile. “Thank you for caring.” Jack nodded, watching you work with a rare tenderness in his eyes. You glanced over at him, offering a small smile. When you finished cooking, you slid the plates across the island toward him before coming around to sit next to him. You watched as he took his first bite, his face lighting up in approval.

“God, this is so good,” Jack said between bites. You hummed with satisfaction and pride at your handiwork. You grinned, picking at your own plate.

“You know,” you began, poking at your food with a fork, “I made this for T the other week.” you said, testing the waters with a careful glance at him.Jack paused mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air as he processed your words. At first, his face was unreadable, but then a slow grin spread across his face, shaking his head.

“Lucky bastard,” he said, his tone teasing but with no real venom, shaking his head as he took a bite, relishing the familiar flavors yet something completely unfamiliar; you and Trent.. “But to be fair,” he added, his grin widening, “Good on you. I mean, it works every time. I’m assuming it worked between you two?” He looked at you and you nodded.

“It’s working for us now, isn’t it?” You smirked knowingly. Jack laughed, a sound that felt like a balm to your heart.

“Yeah, it’s working for us,” he agreed, pinching at your side like he used to when you were kids.

“For us, every time,” you confirmed, nudging him playfully with your elbow. Jack laughed, the sound filling the kitchen with an ease you hadn’t felt in weeks. For the first time in a while. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you were back on solid ground with Jack. And it wasn’t just the meal—it was the love that came with it, the unspoken understanding that no matter what happened, you’d always have each other.

“Hey, Jack… Can I show you something?” you asked softly as he was putting away the dishes from dinner. Jack looked over his shoulder at you, curiosity piqued.

“Yeah, go on. What’s up?” he asked, drying his hands with a tea towel.

“Well, hold on—it’s upstairs,” you said, your tone holding a hint of excitement. Jack raised an eyebrow, impatient as always.

“I’ll just come with. What is it?” he asked, already following you toward the stairs, his familiar sibling banter making you smile. When you reached your room, you started rummaging through your things, finally pulling out the worn book of poems your mum had left you. Jack sat on the edge of your bed, his hands resting on his knees as he watched you curiously.

“Mum left me this,” you began, sitting down beside him. You held the book up, running your fingers gently over the faded cover. “It’s just a bunch of poems, but… she annotated the whole thing. Like, all of it.” Your voice softened as you opened the book, flipping through pages filled with your mum’s handwriting. You stopped on a particularly meaningful page and handed the book to Jack, your fingers lingering for a moment before letting go. Jack took it carefully, his usual easy demeanor replaced by something quieter, more reverent. His eyes scanned the page, catching on her familiar handwriting, and you saw his jaw tighten. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his emotions in check, but you could see the tears welling in his eyes.

“Mum,” he murmured, his voice barely audible. He traced her words with his thumb, pausing on a note she’d written in the margin. “She always wrote like this… It was like she could read minds...” He muttered with sadness but you sadly giggled knowing it was a true statement. As Jack read her writing over again. The seal of approval. ‘Always reminds me of you and TAA—tell him one day, okay?.’ He sighed his heart aching, missing your mum, missing having her help in real time.

“She did,” you agreed, leaning closer to him. “It doesn’t make anything better about how we went about things, but… maybe it’s something.” You cooed. Jack swallowed hard, still looking at the page.

“She was rarely wrong, you know,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. You hummed. He tapped at the letters ‘TAA’ your mum had written. “I love you… but you deserve to be loved, Y/N,” Jack said, turning his gaze to you. “And I know he loves you too. Mum was right—you should’ve told him. And as hard as it is for me to stomach… I’m glad he told you.” He admitted. His words hit you like a wave, a mixture of relief and guilt washing over you.

“You think she’d be okay with all this?” you asked quietly, your fingers brushing over the edges of the book. Jack nodded, his lips quirking into a small, bittersweet smile.

“Yeah. She’d probably say, ‘Jack, stop being such a pain in the ass, and let your sister be happy.’” You laughed through the tears that threatened to spill over.

“Sounds about right.” You giggled, blinking back tears. Jack closed the book gently and handed it back to you. “You know, she always told me everyone likes to know they’re loved. No matter why or how, they should hear it,” you said, looking at him pointedly. You were recalling the same story you told Trent at the beach. The advice you should've taken earlier. Jack’s eyes flickered with understanding as he caught the subtext in your words.

“You’re talking about Meg, I’m assuming,” he said, his voice quieter now.

“You love her, Jack,” you said simply. “And if you don’t tell her, you might miss your chance. Trust me, I know how hard it is to just sit with it, harbouring it.” You cooed gently. Jack sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Taking advice from his little sister is not easy, but you, like your mother, were rarely wrong.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” He muttered. You reached out and put your hand on his shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“Mum was rarely wrong, remember?” You cooed with a singsong tone. Jack chuckled, shaking his head.

“She really wasn’t.” For a moment, the two of you sat there in silence, the weight of your mum’s presence filling the room. It was a quiet kind of healing, the kind only family could bring.

That night, you climbed into bed, feeling the weight of the day settle over you. Things with Jack felt like they were finally on the mend, and things with Trent were… good. But what did ‘good’ even mean now? Were you together? Was it too soon to ask? Would it make him pull away if you did? You stared at your phone, debating whether to call him. The screen lit up suddenly, Trent’s name appearing. You hadn’t even realized you’d texted him first.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he said, his voice soft and warm.

“Hi, T,” you replied, the sound of his voice easing some of your nerves.

“You okay? You sound… quiet,” he said, always attuned to your moods.

“Yeah, I guess… So…. this is just how it is now,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You knew you could be on the phone with him, it wasn’t a secret anymore but it felt odd. Open. You didn’t want to sound ungrateful, but the uncertainty was gnawing at you.

“How it is?” Trent asked, a gentle curiosity in his tone. You bit your lip, wishing he were there with you, holding you, grounding you. It was always so much easier when you were together.

“I don’t know. nevermind.” You murmured not wanting to start something bigger. He was quiet for a moment, his voice softening further when he finally spoke.

“I love you—that’s how it is now. Yeah?” He cooed. The way he said it made your chest ache, his certainty a balm to your doubts. “Wish I was with you.” He reaffirmed as if he could read your mind.

“Yeah… my T,” you sighed, a mix of affection and longing filling your voice.

“All yours,” he cooed, as if it were the simplest truth in the world. You felt a small smile tug at your lips, but your mind was still racing. The day had been so full of emotion that now, in the stillness of your room, your thoughts were louder than ever but then an image flashed in your mind. The vision of if Trent was in bed with you… and all the times he had been and how good it felt and how you missed it.

"T... I really miss you, baby," you sighed, your voice trembling with longing, practically a moan. It was a zero to sixty moment. Suddenly your hormones took over and you couldn't hold it together anymore. A switch from longing to lust in an instant. Trent could hear your whine, he picked up on the new direction of the conversation immediately.

"God, your voice is my favorite sound," Trent replied instantly, his words making your heart ache in the best way. You let out a small giggle, trying to push away the sadness and focus on the warmth his voice gave you. But the desperation bubbling in your chest wasn’t going to be ignored.

"I miss your voice in my ear," you murmured, your tone suggestive. Trent groaned softly on the other end.

"Yeah? You miss me telling you how sexy you are? What a good girl you are f'me?" His voice was rough, low, and it sent a shiver through your body. You sank further into your bed, the soft rustle of the duvet audible through the phone. Trent leaned back against his headboard, trying to compose himself as his imagination took over, the thought of you making it impossible to stay calm.

"T, I miss being close to you," you admitted, your voice heavy with need.

"Me too, baby. Miss your body so much," he breathed, his tone thick with longing. "Do me a favor, yeah?" Your lips curled into a small smile. You'd do anything to feel close to him again, even if it was just through the sound of his voice.

"Whatever you want," you replied earnestly. If this is how it was, maybe you liked it.

"Touch yourself for me," he asked, the innocence in his tone at odds with the heat simmering in his words. Your hand slipped into your jogger, and down to your panties, your fingers gliding through your wet folds as you let out a soft moan.

"T... I'm already so fucking wet. I miss you so much," you whimpered.Trent exhaled sharply, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah? Fuck, baby, I love knowing I can make you like this even when I'm not there." He hummed.

"Baby..." you hesitated, the ache in your chest mixing with the burning need in your body. "Can I see you?" Your phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime call before you even heard his answer. You accepted it, and there he was—his warm brown eyes clouded with lust, his chest bare, and his hand already grazing his toned stomach.

"Lemme see that pretty pussy," he said, his voice thick and commanding. You discarded your joggers entirely and leaned back, propping your phone up so he could see you. Slowly, you spread your legs, your fingers running through your folds to gather your slick, and Trent's breath hitched.

"Fuck," he groaned. "Suck on your fingers like it's my cock, baby." You dragged your wet fingers up your body, pulling your shirt up to expose more skin. Locking eyes with him through the screen, you slid your fingers into your mouth, sucking on them slowly, your tongue circling and teasing in a way that had his jaw tightening.

"Do you miss having your cock sucked?" you asked boldly, your voice low and sultry as you pulled your fingers free. Trent let out a choked laugh, his hand sliding down to his cock.

"Yeah, baby. Miss your mouth so much. Fuck, you're perfect." He started stroking himself, his hand moving in sync with the rhythm of your fingers as they dipped back down to your wet core. "Slide them in, baby. Let me see you."

"T... I miss you," you whimpered, sliding two fingers into yourself, your back arching at the sensation. "Fuck, I need you."

"Need you too, baby," he groaned, his voice rough with desire. "Want to feel that pussy on my cock again. Miss the way you feel, the way you sound when you're close. You close f’me?" His words pushed you closer to the edge, your breathing quickening as your fingers moved faster.

"Fuck, T... I'm close," you whimpered, your mind clouded with images of him-his touch, his warmth, his weight pressing into you.

"Be a good girl and cum f'me," he urged, his voice tight as he watched you fall apart on his screen. “Let me see you cum.” He commanded.

"Fuck... fuck..." you gasped, your body trembling as the wave of your orgasm hit, white-hot pleasure surging through you.

"That's it, baby," Trent groaned, his hand moving faster as he watched you come undone. "Fuck, I'm cumming." He let out a low moan, his head falling back against the headboard as he came, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the sounds of your breathing filling the quiet.

“I miss you," you murmured, pulling the duvet back over your body, feeling spent but still aching for his presence. “Come back.” You pouted. He smiled admiring the cute roll of your bottom lip.

"Miss you too, baby. Soon, yeah?" he replied, his voice soft but full of promise.

"Yeah. Soon," you whispered, wishing with everything in you that it could be now.

“Alright, you gonna have a better sleep now though?” He cheekily smirked. Admittedly, you slept better after an orgasm. Who didn’t. You nodded with a shy smile still feeling your heart race from your high. “Good girl. Night, baby. I’m up early for my flight but I’ll text you. Love you so much,” Trent added, his words tender, but you barely registered them.

“Love you too,” you replied softly before hanging up. But even as the call ended, your thoughts didn’t. The worst kind of post nut clarity fell over you. The kind where you wondered what the hell just happened? Trent seemed to have a way of pulling you out of reality and right now with his presence gone you were crashing back down into it again. Jack’s question earlier rang in your mind: Are you his girlfriend yet? The answer felt simple, but it wasn’t. Why weren’t you? What was stopping either of you from saying it out loud? Your thoughts spiraled, each one tugging at your insecurities. Was Trent just waiting for the right time? Did he think it was too soon? Or worse—did he not want that at all? But you just said you loved each other, none of it made sense. You sighed deeply, curling into yourself under the covers, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. You tried to remind yourself of his words, the way he’d said, I love you, like he meant it with every fiber of his being. But still, as you drifted off to sleep, the question lingered in your heart: When would you finally be his, and would he ever truly be yours?

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 18 - Safe xx

#trent alexander arnold #Trent Alexander Arnold x reader #alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagines #taa x reader #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader #fie fic #Movie Night Fic

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cheeseanonioncrisps · 11 months ago

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One of the more interesting aspects of Stayed Gone is the implication that, prior to his disappearance, Alastor must have been producing some quality programming.

Despite it's obvious importance in the modern world, TV apparently only started outcompeting radio in Hell after Alastor vanished. Seven whole years ago. And when Al returns, Vox's first response is to freak the fuck out about whether he's gonna keep his audience.

That's fucking crazy.

And we can be pretty sure that people weren't just listening in out of fear, either. Or because Alastor was making any major effort to crush all other forms of media.

If this was purely about which Overlord was the most powerful, then Vox's verses would surely have focused on emphasising his own strength. Instead, they're all about calling radio outdated. Vox is genuinely worried— apparently based on experience— that Alastor is going to outdo him in terms of sheer entertainment value.

Which raises the obvious question: what were Al's shows actually like? (Aside from those early broadcasts guest-starting the screams of the damned, obviously.)

We get kind of a taster in the song:

“Salutations! Good to be back on the air. Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated Hell to a broadcast— Sinners, rejoice!— instead of a clout-chasing mediocre video podcast. Is Vox insecure, pursuing allure? Fitting between this fad and that, is nothing working? Every day, he's got a new format! Is Vox as strong as he purports? Or is it based on his support? He'd be powerless without the other Vees! And here's the sugar on the cream: he asked me to join his team! I said no, and now he's pissy, that's the tea!”

Obviously he's doing it to music, so there's going to be some difference in the cadence of his voice from that, but still, he's talking noticeably quicker than he does in person. And he gets right to the point.

Compare it to his commercial in episode 1. There's a big difference in terms of both how much respect he's showing his audience (“well hello there, you wayward sinner!” vs “good to be back on the air”), and how much relevant information he delivers.

Alastor is a great character to watch, but most people who interact with him directly seem to find the experience either annoying, awkward, terrifying or all three.

Mainly because Al seems to go out of his way to put people off even when he's actively trying to get them to trust him, by making condescending asides or constantly dropping references to his own power. On air, however, he greets everyone politely and even drops what is almost an apology for being gone so long (“I know it's been a while”), then immediately gets to the information that he knows they're really listening for.

Alastor may not respect Charlie, Adam or Lucifer, but he does respect his audience.

And the content he's producing makes it clear why people are still tuning in. Al has the gossip. Katie Killjoy and Tom Trench may not be unbiased exactly, but they're clearly trying to provide sources for their claims and maintain some veneer of professional news reporting.

Al, meanwhile, is quite happy to provide strong opinions and baseless speculation about public figures, content that is less fitting with the professional image that Vox seems so desperate to keep up, but that is likely to attract a bigger audience.

What gets me curious now, however, is wondering what else he used to provide.

Again, radio was apparently the medium for news and entertainment in Hell until Alastor left. Implying that a) radio was at the time fulfilling many of the function that TV now provides, and b) Alastor was involved enough in this that it collapsed/got overthrown the moment he left town.

Did Alastor have an empire similar to the Vees? Did he run a bunch of channels? Did he have DJs and sports commentators and presenters on his payroll?

Given that radio seems to have collapsed completely after he left— did they all go running to Vox when he was presumed dead? Was the Vees new empire in part built on the ruins of Alastor's old one?

Or did he do the whole thing solo and just run like, a bunch of different shows. (In which case, since radio's bread and butter has always been music, Helluva Boss fans can now have fun imagining him interviewing Verosika Mayday about ‘Vacay to Bonetown’.)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel meta #hazbin spoilers #alastor hazbin #vox #stayed gone #meta #hazbin hotel headcanons #i'm writing this right before bed so excuse if it seems a bit disjointed #🥱

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what-eats-owls · 13 days ago

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Hello! I'm a fan of Tangled and its spinoff series, and I'm curious about your upcoming book "Rootbound."

It sounds like it explores many of the same plot elements that Tangled the Series did (ie Eugene's identity/past, understanding Rapunzel's Sundrop powers, and traveling to a mysterious kingdom). I really like that it also focuses on the awkward phase of personal growth that comes after escaping an abusive situation/surviving severe trauma. (I'm in that phase right now, and I'd really like to see Rapunzel get the chance to work through it herself.)

I was wondering if you could go into more detail about your vision for Rootbound in relation to Tangled the Series. Do you see the book as "your version" of the series (meaning it's what you would have written if you were in charged of the show's plot)? Or do you think of it as a continuation of the movie that's completely different/separate from TTS?

(If you explained this already, I may not have understood due to my Autism. I'm genuinely curious to know what your perspective is tho!)

Hi friend! If this sounds short at all, I promise it's not because I'm upset, haha—I just want to be really clear so readers have the right expectations going into Rootbound! (While also not getting too deep into the fifty pages of publishing context.)

Your second option, that it's more of a continuation of the original movie and separate from TTS, is pretty much right on the money. The one thing I'd like to clarify is that I wouldn't call it solely my vision/version! When I was approached for the project, the lovely folks in charge had an early seed concept for the story, and from that, I was able to build a more detailed outline, and once that was approved, draft the manuscript. This is pretty normal for when you're working with another entity's IP!

That initial seed concept directly followed the original film, but did not draw on any characters/plot/lore introduced in TTS, and explored different takes on some things TTS covers, such as Eugene's history. Now obvs, I'm not an official spokesperson here, but my view on it is that Rootbound is only as canon as you want it to be. TBH, I think that's the better approach—the TTS fandom is enormous and passionate, and I'd rather not tinker with a story already told so well.

(And if anyone's worried that Rootbound will be the basis for a sequel film... let's just say for multiple reasons, no one would be more surprised than I, haha.)

So tl;dr: characters and lore from TTS are not part of Rootbound, I think that's a good thing (why mess with perfection?), I hope y'all enjoy my spin on things while knowing TTS isn't going anywhere.

#tangled #rootbound #fun fact #if you notice the tormented route I take around referring to Rapunzel's kingdom by name #it is because it is never referred to as Corona in the film #and thus I couldn't call it Corona in the book #considering the book is about an international diplomatic mission this created #a few #challenges

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lurkingshan · 9 months ago

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Japanese QL Corner

It's a quieter week as a few shows have just wrapped and the next wave hasn't started yet, but there is still Japanese ql airing, including what is shaping up to be an all time fav. Both of these current airing shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Love is Better the Second Time Around

This show is so good, and so mature in exactly the way I hoped. And I don't mean mature as in explicit--there is sex in this show but it's not some wild heat level. It's mature in that it's a story about characters who know themselves, know what they want, and draw boundaries. Both Iwanaga and Miyata are going down as favorite characters for me; I especially love that Miyata is a more knowing and self aware spin on a really well known bl archetype (think Rain from LITA but if he actually knew exactly why he was reacting the way he was to Payu and was mad about it instead of just overwhelmed and confused). This week we got a lot deeper into his teenage hurt over Iwanaga and now have a firm understanding of why he's alternately giving into and resisting this attraction. I am looking forward to Iwanga figuring out how to repair the damage he caused and earn his trust back.

My Strawberry Film

This was easily my favorite episode so far of this meandering little show. Every week I am left wondering what exactly this drama is trying to say and be; it certainly doesn't feel like a bl. We have spent the vast majority of our time on doomed het romance while Ryo quietly pines for his oblivious friend in the background. But this week we finally got to know Minami outside of Hikaru's narrow gaze, and I like her a lot. Her scene with Ryo where they discussed their romantic woes and established each other as a safe zone was very sweet, and showed how perceptive she is about all these dynamics happening around her. I was discussing with @bengiyo whether the show is going for an aromantic read with her, and I'm not sure. I see the makings of it, but the presentation of her feelings on romance feels a bit muddled. I loved her calling Hikaru out on being self-centered and having absolutely no patience for his petty jealousy. Hikaru thinks he likes her, but he doesn't actually know her (or his own best friend). I liked the final scene between Ryo and Hikaru as well, and the terrible angst of Ryo's confession that he immediately took back. The way the lights and audio from oncoming traffic played over his face in that scene was a really fantastic way to communicate both a moment of clarity and a moment of fear in the aftermath. I'm curious to see where this show takes the ending; a romantic conclusion for the two boys would not feel genuine to me at this point, but I could see them leaving us on a note of burgeoning curiosity and hope.

Bonus: No Touching At All

I recently watched this 2014 jbl on @twig-tea's recommendation, and I really loved it (I have already watched it twice and will definitely be doing so again). This is a classic office romance between a young gay man, Shima, and his "straight" boss, Toga. It's a simple story but well executed, and the film has a strong sense of place that I really loved. Shima and Toga have a fairly instantaneous attraction, and Toga is the kind of laidback character who simply never gave much thought to his sexuality and doesn't care about the fact that Shima is a man; he likes who he likes. Shima, however, is carrying a lot of internalized homophobia and trauma from closeted men messing him around in the past, and has a hard time believing in Toga's sincerity. I really love the way this conflict plays out in the story, and I especially love the way Toga talks to Shima. He's a no bullshit kind of guy and he tries his best to reassure Shima, but he's not a pushover, either. Ultimately Shima has to work through his own insecurities and make the choice to be brave to make the relationship work. The ending of this one is amazing and left me feeling very confident in this couple, and I can't recommend it highly enough. It's the grey for this one, unfortunately, but if you have trouble finding it in HQ let me know and I'll point you (don't watch it on YT, the version on there is potato quality).

#japanese ql corner #love is better the second time around #koi wo suru nara nidome ga joto #my strawberry film #no touching at all #japanese bl

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yourlocallyneysimp · 2 years ago

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"Would you cry if I died?"

Summary: How would they react if you asked them this question? Especially if they already know that you don't have much time left.

Characters: Albedo, Wanderer, Aether, Lyney, Cyno

Warnings: Death, lots of angst

A/N: This is so cringe, omfg- I was also in the mood for angst today I guess.

Albedo:

Albedo didn't know how to react. He didn't even move from the spot he was currently in. You were laying in bed watching Albedo as he was preparing your medicine since you were ill and needed something to keep you from failing him.

This question, he didn't know how to answer since Albedo technically wasn't human and he wasn't sure if shedding tears was possible for him. You knew that he wasn't human, but you were genuinely curious and wanted to know what he would reply with.

"I....I'm not sure."

You were expecting that answer and wasn't offended by it, so you quickly changed the subject into something more cheerful so Albedo wouldn't think too hard about the question. It worked, but later while he was researching on medicine for illnesses, the question still lingered in his mind. He was curious wondering if he really would cry, he wanted to. Not because of his research, it was because he wanted to show that he really did have feelings for you and that he really cared if you were ever released from the world of Teyvat.

It only took two months for your question to be answered before your health failed you. There you were in a random cave in Dragonspine warmed by a small campfire nearby with Albedo holding you in his arms. He knew that you were going to go soon since he could tell by how weak you were and how you looked. You looked very drained and tired and Albedo couldn't help but feel a painful sting in his chest. Something he has never felt before. He told you many times before that you werent supposed to leave his research area without anyone escorting you, but you wanted to see him as soon as possible because you felt more weaker than usual and you knew that you were going soon. You just wanted to see him one more time.

As he was holding you, you looked up at him and asked the same question again. This time Albedo replied by looking down at you, small tears threatening to fall. His eyes were beautiful, he truly was a beautiful to look at, especially when there were small tears at the corners of his eyes which made them look brighter.

"yes... I would."

You were happy, happy that he would shed tears for you. A small smile appeared on your face as you closed your eyes and prepared yourself to be released from the world of Teyvat.

Wanderer/Scaramouche:

"What......?"

You asked him the question one day out of the blue. He didn't know what to do, nor did he know what to say. He didn't even know the answer to that question. He was a puppet, a merely puppet that he told himself couldn't feel emotions.

You repeated the question trying to listen for an answer, but all Scara could think about was would he really cry? He thought human emotions were pitiful, especially the feeling of sorrow, but he was thinking long and hard to find the answer to this question.

You tried to change the subject because you could tell that he was thinking too hard about it, you were just curious. You wanted to know what he would say, but it looked like he wasn't going to reply any time soon.

When night came, Scaramouche was still thinking about the question you had just asked him a few hours ago. Would he cry for you if you died? He didn't want to say yes because he knew he was a puppet and that puppets shouldn't feel emotions, but he knew deep down that he would break down if you ever did die.

So that brings us here right now. Scaramouche holding you trying to shield you from the rain as you're suffering from a large injury on your abdomen. He was careless, he should have been payin more attention when he was fighting those enemies. Instead of him getting hit, you took the blow.

You clearly weren't going to live, you were losing blood fast and town was many miles away, so all Scaramouche could do was sit and hold you in his arms as he desperately tries to shield you from the rain while also trying to stop the blood.

When he realized that you're time was running out, he seemed... helpless. For the first time in a long time he felt that emotion that he never wanted to feel again. He couldn't save you and he knew it, but he didn't want to accept it. He was stubborn.

During your final moments, you smiled at him and said your final words. Then, you were gone, gone from Teyvat. All that was left was your lifeless body in his arms and a bunch of blood. When he realized this, one tear came down followed by another, and another. That's when Scara started crying for the first time in a while. He was hurt and felt betrayed that you had left him all alone. He was upset that he didn't pay attention during that battle.

He was upset that he couldn't save you.

Aether:

Aether was upset that you had asked him this question. It really made him feel a bit useless since he was doing everything he can to find a good healer for your illness. It felt like you were doubting him while in reality, you were just curious.

Aether didn't even reply to your question, he just walked out before you could even say anything. You understood that there was most likely a lot of thoughts circling his head at the moment so you let him go and continued talking with Paimon as if nothing had happened.

While you were with Paimon, Aether was on the balcony of your shared hotel room looking up at the fake stars trying to get his thoughts in order. Why would you ask him that question? Do you even think he has a chance of healing you? All these questions, yet they were left unanswered. He couldn't ask you either since he was afraid for what your answer would be.

He didn't want to think about it, he really didn't. But, against his own will he started having thoughts about if you really did die during his journey. Would he cry? Yes, without a doubt. Thinking about it is not the same as reality though. Reality hurts way more than the fake world that we call 'imagination.' So, if reality hurts way more than imagination, why was he currently crying? You weren't dead, you were currently in the next room talking with Paimon.

He couldn't even imagine how much he would cry if you really did die.

Lyney:

No.. Lyney didn't want to accept it. He didn't want to accept that you were going to leave him soon. Not the one he loved, the one he cherished, the one he would do anything for.

He didn't want to accept that you were going to die soon and he didn't want you to break the promise you made with him. Why did you even make that stupid promise in the first place when you were currently asking that horrible question??

He didn't know what to say. Of course he would cry, but why would you ask that? He completely convinced himself that you'll be fine and you just caught the flu or something. He didn't want to face reality or face the consequences so he just pretended that everything was fine. But you both knew that you did not have a lot of time left, so you asked him this question wondering what he'll say.

"My dear Y/n, what makes you say something like that?"

You hated this. You hated how he didn't want to be honest with himself. You didn't want to leave him in this state so you just said the truth right then and there to end this madness. You didn't want to be responsible for his sanity.

"Lyney, you and I both know I'm going to die soon. Just accept reality already!"

No.. He didn't want to accept it. He was angry, angry that you would talk like that, like you didn't believe he could save you. He was looking for a cure and he was going to find one whether you liked it or not. He promised himself that he would save you, so without a word he came up to you, kissed you on the cheek, and left. He needed some time to think, some time to come up with a solution.

Little did he know that, that would be his last conversation with you.

Cyno

"Where did that question come from?" Cyno was taken aback by your question, but was also really upset that you would ask him something like that. He didn't want to think about you dying all of a sudden, especially when the mood was bright just a few minutes ago.

Sighing, you just brushed off the question and tried to push past it. You were curious since your time on Teyvat was running out and you knew it. You just wanted to know if someone would actually miss you if you were gone. It seems that you won't be getting the answer to that question anytime soon.

Cyno noticed how awkward the atmosphere was, so trying to get rid of it he started telling some of his bad jokes hoping to light up the mood a bit.

"What does a baby computer call it's father?"

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Data. You get it?"

"Cyno, please-"

To be honest, it did light up the mood quite a lot since you forgot what you even asked a few minutes ago, but Cyno didn't forget. He still thought about the question every now and then. He was afraid, afraid for when your time finally came. He promised himself that he would protect you no matter what, but could he really keep that promise...?

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mochiimadness · 11 months ago

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I wonder what it would be like for Splinter if he fell in love? This isn't an xreader thing, for obvious reasons. It's just a scenario I haven't really seen explored for his character, and I'm curious how you'd portray it.

Hello! I wasn’t sure which version of Splinter you wanted, so I did both! Also, I could write a splinter x reader if someone requested it (not sure what you meant by 'obvious reasons' /lh), I did not make this one a splinter x reader tho ^^

2012 Splinter

Oh Hamato Yoshi, a man of so little yet so many words-

It takes him a bit to actually fall in love

He is hesitant about pursuing another romantic relationship

Is genuinely traumatized from his last one

Rightfully so, he saw his wife die, daughter as well (or so he thought for years) all at the hands of someone he onced called his brother- only to get mutated soon after.

Yeah… not a very good experience…

But when he falls, he is absolutely devoted to his person

He is very formal, approaching his crush in a gentlemanly manner

Is kinda old fashioned

The type to bring flowers and open doors for his partner

When he was with Tang Shen, he ended up losing sight of what was important

And became very distant and dismissive

He knows better now, and makes sure to go out of his way to pay attention

He does still struggle though,

Often choosing to meditate over quality time

As his relationship grows, however, he becomes better at being present.

Makes sure to set time aside for his partner

He doesn’t mind doing whatever, but he does prefer quieter activities-

A drama show perhaps, or drinking tea together.

As he becomes more relaxed in his relationship-

His playful side emerges

And surprisingly- he can be very goofy

I mean- he has a cheese phone in a glass case. He chose that. It’s meant for serious emergencies- you can’t tell me he wasn’t making a joke about his current mutation.

He tells dad jokes- really corny ones too

And his laugh is a full-on belly laugh where he throws his head back

He enjoys making his beloved laugh,

Will sometimes even ask Michelangelo for any new jokes to tell!

Overall, he's very sweet, goofy and old-fashioned with his partner,

He is also incredibly protective- perhaps a bit over protective

But considering the fact that he and his family are being hunted down by the man who killed his last wife-

His over protectiveness is warranted.

Does NOT take chances- if his beloved is captured, he is going there and demolishing anyone who gets in his way.

Makes sure his beloved is okay, before taking them home to curl up and watch some old drama show

Cheese-sicles included.

Rise Splinter

This may or may not come as a surprise-

But I honestly think it takes him a while to truly fall in love with someone

I feel like he has some trust issues

Definitely has high walls when it comes to relationships

Being a popular celebrity back in day taught him a thing or two about letting people get too close

Most people were usually only after him for his fame and fortune-

Looking to use him to rise to the top themselves

So he made sure to keep a decent distance

Until Big Mama of course

Which only made his trust issues 100x worse.

If he were to fall in love again, it would only be after a long time

There needs to be a very strong, and very solid foundation of trust

He would like to avoid being locked up and forced to fight to the death again, thank you very much.

On top of his trust issues-

He has major abandonment issues

If he ever went through with trying to have another relationship,

There would need to be a lot of communication-

Lots of working on and assuring him that his partner isn’t going anywhere.

As for his behavior??

He’s very avoidant in a rather outgoing way

It’s kinda weird to witness actually

The second he realizes he actually has romantic feelings for someone- he’s panicking

Tries to avoid them but also makes sure to be nice

He’s nowhere in sight whenever his crush is around but if they happen to catch him?

He’s chatting up a storm, sitting them down for a cup of tea or some food

Casually handing them a slice of pizza and once their attention is on it

Poof- vanished from sight once they turn around.

Once he starts actually giving a relationship a try though??

Man is whipped with a capital W

THE BIGGEST SIMP EVER

Quality time??? Physical touch???? GIFT GIVING??!?!?!!

His crush is getting it all

Quality time is an absolute must, he always wants to be around them no matter what it is they’re doing.

Knitting? He’s there.

2am snacks?? He already has their favorite

Movie time???? He made sure his projector is completely repaired AND made the couch the comfiest spot ever.

Loves to cuddle and hold hands, generally likes to be in contact with his beloved in anyway he can

Will even wrap his tail around one of their limbs if his hands are full

*cough* or if he’s too lazy to move from his comfy position *cough*

And on top of that?? He actually has decent money from his time as Lou Jitsu

He can and will have his sons help him figure out online ordering.

His beloved is getting any and everything they want

Only the best for them, he makes sure to buy top quality items

A lot of the gifts are an eyesore to look at though- his personal taste is…. intense…

Thankfully, his family helps him out.

Overall a very attentive, but clingy, partner

Will proudly boast about his beloved to anyone who asks (or doesn’t)

Has one of those wallets with the long long photo strips

He shoves them in everyone’s faces

I hope you enjoyed!! Apologies for the long wait;;

#my writing #rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2018 x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #2012 splinter x reader #2018 splinter x reader #rise splinter x reader #2018 hamato yoshi x reader #2012 hamato yoshi x reader #rise hamato yoshi x reader #tmnt fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction

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hosseinis · 5 months ago

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hello!! I really hope this isn't a rude question, bc I'm genuinely curious. I've been wondering for a while now why people who make gifs from a movie or a show or whatever get upset when somebody else uses the gif in something or want credit for it. Is the process difficult? I'm not 100% how to make a gif but I can't imagine it being that arduous. Anyway like I said not trying to be rude have a good day :D

hey there! it's not a rude question if only because you're asking in the first place instead of just discrediting it.

the thing a lot of people don't understand is how much work actually goes into making a gif, because we don't just plug the video into a gifmaking program and call it a day. a lot of us start JUST with the process of pirating the highest quality video we can find, which can be anywhere from an hour or two of downloading to days at a time (my record is five days for all five seasons of the a-team, but that's a story for another day)

so there's already at least a few hours potentially, just from downloading. granted, we do other things obviously but that's still time that's going into the process.

so you have to download those videos, find the clip you want, and then there are several different methods of getting the clip into whatever program you use (i use photoshop). most of the time i have to reformat the video from .mkv to .mp4, because PS doesn't take .mkv but the highest quality videos are typically in that format. so i put that into a reformatting program, which can take at least another hour depending on how long the file is.

so i've finally got the file ready to go in photoshop, and then i can actually start working on the gif itself. i've now spent at MINIMUM two or three hours just getting this video ready. then i personally clip it down to the exact scene i want it and go from there. if you're just doing a random assortment of scenes, you can choose whatever you want. but if you're doing a scene itself, you have to clip that scene in bursts so you can add the subtitles based off the mouth-movement.

so say you're doing a gifset of your favorite character from a tv show. well, you don't want to just have all of the gifs come from the same episode. so you do the reformatting process all over again. more hours. you do that eight or nine or ten times until you have all the scenes you want. and THEN you can start the actual editing process.

what size should it be depending on what kind of gifset you want to do? 540x540? 540x405? do you just crop it first or should you resize it? the resolution might go down depending on how you resize it. do you know what smart sharpen is, and which levels you should have it on in order to make the scene look the best? what's a smart object? what percentage should your frame rate be so it doesn't look too fast? it's completely different between live action and animation, after all. do you know which colors you should use in the adjustment layers, like selective color? does levels or curves work better for what you're trying to do? how do i get rid of the yellow in this scene so it matches the other gifs? what's the difference between linear contrast and medium contrast? should you use exposure or vibrance to get the shadows you want?

you've done all that, it looks good! you go to export it as a proper gif so you can post it to tumblr. but don't forget your settings on that either! transparency dither, web snap, the amount of colors and what size it should be. you do all that and the gif ends up being over the 10mb limit. so now you have to go back and carefully chip away at the frames until it's under the limit, which means you ultimately have to choose what to sacrifice from that scene so you can properly export it.

so you try again. okay, it's on 9.7MB. that's going to read as 10MB on tumblr. back in you go to chip at it again until it's going to read as 9MB instead. finally. you export the gif, add it to tumblr, and then tumblr doesn't like how it looks when you import it and destroys the quality, so you have to go back and try different export settings until it looks the way you want it.

so you do that nine more times. The Entire Process. downloading and reformatting the .mkv, getting the scene you want, clipping it, resizing and cropping it, coloring it, exporting it, and if you're adding subtitles then it's an entirely new process to add on! and don't forget that if you're doing a mix of scenes, you have to color them all depending on their own lighting, so you're basically doing the process again from scratch.

then you try to think of a fun caption. maybe you want to choose a line you feel best summarizes the character or scene. you put that caption through an HTML formatting program so it can be a gradient (the easiest part!), make the caption look pretty, and then tag it and press send.

you've spent HOURS on this process. literal fucking hours. you've been learning how to carefully manipulate the colors to look good, you know what frame rate looks the best, you have all of your settings saved as .psds.

and then someone right clicks, saves the gif (or just copies it) and posts it to twitter with their own funny little caption.

they get 26k likes, who knows how many retweets, a bunch of new follows. they get all the attention for that gif when they put zero work into it. all they did was write a caption and press send.

you got 400 likes and 165 reblogs on your gifset over on tumblr. maybe you get some tags on it if you're really lucky.

so tell me. wouldn't you be a little frustrated, too?

and just in case anyone wants to try and tell me this doesn't happen, you're welcome to compare the stats on this gifset of godzilla versus the repost on twitter.

#so yes it's a very arduous process #and yes we DO have a skillset that no one really acknowledges #part of the reason i stopped making gifs is simply because they kept getting stolen #and i was tired of seeing it #replies!#and i'm not putting this under a read more so yall can read it yourselves

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ecargmura · 3 months ago

Text

Oshi No Ko Episode 22 Review - Blatant Loophole

You can’t fool my eyes and ears. The man with the sunglasses is obviously Aqua and Ruby’s biological father and he’s voiced by Mamoru Miyano! The man’s back to voice another potential psycho but this time, a psycho daddy. It’s obvious the mystery isn’t resolved as the true culprit is out and about.

While the Aqua and Kana sort-of date is a nice respite for both of them, it does show that Aqua potentially does have feelings for her as he’s treating her to nice things like paying for the coffee, holding her bag and even taking her back home via taxi. However, Aqua does feel like the type who is nice to girls, but doesn’t really know how to fall in love. Given his past life as Goro and how he grew up as Aqua, he never really had someone he genuinely loved. Sure, he had a crush on Ai, but a celebrity crush is a different kind of love from genuine, romantic love. He idolized the power Ai had as an idol and that love was transferred to Aqua who developed some kind of complicated feelings towards Ai. I won’t deny there was huge attachment to her.

I think his feelings of attachment lingers in Akane who is essentially mimicking Ai. However, remember that she’s not Ai. Akane doesn’t even know if she has romantic feelings for Aqua herself as she’s also clueless about love. I think that the affections Kana and Akane bring to Aqua are different. Kana brings the type of feelings he’s never felt for someone else before because she’s so different while Akane gives him affection but like in the way that makes him attached because he gets reminded of Ai emotionally.

To be honest, I dislike waifu wars because I find them asinine. I honestly don’t flipping care who Aqua ends up with because at the end of the day, people will always have something to complain about when it comes to the character they love or hate. Both Kana and Akane are good choices but I honestly don’t care who is end game. If I had to choose, I'd just go the BL route and have Aqua be with Melt.

Though, I won’t deny that Akane is essentially the smartest character in the show. Even she’s sharp enough to sense the obvious loophole concluding the case. If you’re curious about what that loophole is, it’s the fact that Himekawa’s mother could’ve had an affair with Aqua’s father, which could’ve been why they’re related, and the affair could’ve been the reason for the murder-suicide. Aqua’s been too obsessed with finding his father that he’s denying the possibility that he’s still alive and is just haphazardly concluding everything on him being related to Uehara. Akane is definitely in a dilemma because Aqua is finally at peace, but she also knows that he’s covering his eyes from the real truth because he just wants everything to end. I really like Akane’s intelligence because she does have a way with keeping the mystery going.

First off, I’m surprised that Ruby’s not questioning why a man dressed in sunglasses and a hat is at a cemetery. Second, I’m both surprised and not surprised that the baby daddy is voiced by Mamoru Miyano because Miyano’s essentially the psycho type-cast. Why is it that whenever there’s Koki Uchiyama in the cast, a wild Mamoru Miyano will pop up somewhere? I feel like that’s happened a lot in some animes I’ve watched and reviewed like The Marginal Service and Demon Slayer to name a few. I guess it’s the Himawari Theatre Group prestige or something… I know that while it’s cliche to have Mamoru voice yet another psycho, it’s been a while since I last heard his softer tone which definitely fits the eerie music box background music that played when he walked past Ruby. I won’t deny that Mamoru Miyano will give it his all because he always kills it. Also, is this the first time he’s voicing a dad? I feel like it is…

How many episodes are there left? Two more? Three more? If you know, please let me know. I know that since baby daddy is in the picture now, a season 3 is definitely going to be announced. I wonder what will happen in the last remaining episodes? What will transpire in Miyazaki? What are your thoughts on this episode?

#oshi no ko #aquamarine hoshino #kana arima #Akane kurokawa #ruby hoshino #Hikaru kamiki #review #anime #anime review #ecargmura #arum journal

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robin374 · 1 year ago

Note

What’s up yo?

I was wondering if you could do some of the tf2 mercs with an s/o who is basically Spider-Man please 🙏

-Matt rose anon

Mercs with a Spider-Person S/O

Notes: I'm not sure if you asked for a gender exactly so I'm doing it gender neutral 🗿Also, I LOVED THIS REQUEST SM

(Unedited)

Characters: Medic, Demo, Scout, Sniper, Spy.

Medic

Marry him, now. C'MON MARRY HIM. WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?

He's so in love with your abilities, he's dumbfounded when you balance around the battlefield with your powers.

He genuinely laughs when you take him by the waist and balance around with him.

Of course you're not escaping his check ups, for fuck's sake, you've got Spider-powers!! He wants to know how you got them, what you're able to do and what not.

He studies you so much more than others. He loves seeing you crawl around the ceiling and scaring Scout.

Demo

He definitely thought he was hallucinating you were crawling in the ceiling.

Loves when you scare Scout, he laughs so much he almost died once. Then you told him to remember breathing and calmed him down.

He melted the first time you kissed him like the spiderman kiss. That was so unexpected to him-

Then he scurried away with a smile on his face.

If you balance around with he will probably puke. However he will surely drool over you if you show him your super-strength.

Sniper

He wasn't surprised.

C'mon he's Australian/New Zealander.

If you throw a piss jar to the enemy Spy that's hidden around and you sensed him with your Spidey-Senses, he's in love, instantly.

Also, do not scare him crawling around the ceiling. He will fight you thinking you're a real spider.

"Hey, could you slap Spy with your powers? He's getting annoying."

"He's always annoying."

Spy

Your spider-webs better not touch his suit.

"You got webs in my suit"

You then covered him in spiderwebs.

Now, really, he finds it interesting that you got those curious powers, but can your spider-sense feel his backstabs?🗿

Yes it does.

He always tries to scare you by becoming invisible and creeping behind your back to jump at you like a fucking cat. However you sense it and act like you didn't hear him, while waiting for him to appear and kiss him on the cheek.

He will be there for a while standing like a flowerpot. Until a thought passes through his french mind, and he realizes that he's not only attracted to you, but that the fact that you have him caged in your gaze, in your touches, your laughs, your kisses...

AKA; being in love.

Scout

"Look I've got spider powers like you!" He says while trying to hang from a pull-up bar.

He's following you everywhere, gasping and wimping over your minimal movements.

"Why are you so cool?"

"I drank a glass of water..."

He LOVES when you take him by the waist and balance around the battlefield with him. Just the wind drying the beads of sweat on his face, the feeling of adrenaline thanks to going so fast and just the feeling of your strong arm around him... It makes him feel butterflies in his stomach.

In that moment, when he watched you so concentrated on not dropping him (not like Soldier would sometimes do), he knew he was gonna marry you.

LOVES WHEN YOU KISS HIM UPSIDE DOWN. He tried to do it himself but fell face first to the ground.

"Ouch, I think I broke my nose. Maybe if you kiss me it will get cured...?"

He said with that shit eating grin. (I love him okay? My love language is insulting him alright?)

#tf2 #tf2 x reader #team fortress two #tf2 headcanons #tf2 medic #tf2 medic x reader #tf2 scout #tf2 demoman #tf2 sniper x reader #tf2 scout x reader #tf2 spy x reader

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starboybutler · 8 months ago

Text

Chasing Cars

ao3 link

summary: bucky can't find a reason to get out of bed anymore. gale comes to him one night, and he's reminded of why he's fighting.

word count: 6451

warnings: bucky's crumbling mental health, gale's crumbling mental health, curt's death, slight eating disorders, depressive episodes, smut towards the end

notes: wow this was supposed to be pure smut but i accidentally plotted on my porn because i felt like being sad. oh well have this kinda character study thing i wrote purely on a whim

bucky hadn't left the bed.

he couldn't find a reason to. the rest of the men were outside, gathering wood. training, doing god knows what else to prepare for a plan that would never play out. after some brits had made their escape attempt, the amount of german pricks on duty almost doubled. that, and morale had pretty much gone down after they had said the captured escapees were executed. no one even wanted to make an attempt anymore.

they could talk about escape all they wanted to– it would never happen. they would try, fail, get shot, and get buried somewhere on enemy territory. hell, odds were good that if they waited it out the same thing would happen. so why bother?

he had been staring at the wooden slats of the bunk above him for about an hour, now. this felt familiar, at least. as he lay here, he could pretend he was back in base between missions, talking to curt about whatever was going on in their muddled brains.

“it was a close one today. don't want anymore missions like that for a while.”

“that's just how it is, bucky. they’ll only get tougher, y’know. but i think we got it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. i’ll be tellin’ my grandkids about this one day, y’know. don't seem like it now, but i promise it’ll be a distant memory soon.”

always so optimistic. that was one of the last late-night conversations he had ever had with curt before he went down. he never even got to say goodbye to him. he’ll never forget the pure dread he felt when he asked buck about him, and he didn't have an answer.

sure, bucky could have believed he was alive with every fiber of his being, but that didn't change the fact that curt was dead, crashed somewhere over unknown territory, most likely to never be found.

so much pain, so much death. and for what, he would wonder. what was he really fighting for anymore?

“hey,”

a soft, low voice, like honey. all too familiar.

he looked up, faced with gale, who was just about the only friend he had left at this point. even then, he felt as if buck was slipping from his grasp at times. tensions were high, and he had yelled at him more than he would like to admit.

just yesterday, they got into it outside. john was at fault, he absolutely deserved the punch to the face gale gave him, but neither of them had spoken to one another afterwards. john was never good witth apologies.

“hey,” he said back, the bruise on his cheek left by the blonde throbbing dully as he made eye contact with him for the first time since their scuffle.

“you just gonna lay here all day?” gale asked, his tone not angry or accusatory– just soft and genuinely curious, laced with just a tinge of worry.

“that's the plan,” he replied, shrugging. “nothin’ else to do. unless you wanna punch me again.”

gale stiffened a bit, his lips twitching as if he were trying to find the right thing to say, before he just sighed heavily.

“i’m worried about you.”

bucky shut his eyes, a sigh of his own escaping his chest.

“i know.”

it fell quiet between them. john had closed his eyes so that he couldn't see gale’s sad baby blue’s boring into him, urging him to roll over and show him his most vulnerable parts like a dog begging for attention. for pity.

he knew gale was worried. he knew it before their fight, and he knew it now. gale wasn't an idiot. far from it, actually. he was intelligent and observant, which was why he was such a damn good pilot. he saw john’s pain before john felt it. he saw it in how john would lash out at anyone that looked at him wrong, and how he would toss and turn in his sleep at night.

“you haven't eaten in a few days.”

“i know,” bucky said again. he couldn't bear to imagine gale’s expression. “i’m tired of the same shit. if i see another potato i’ll puke.”

“bucky.” gale hissed, voice urgent. “i’m being serious.”

“so am i.”

he hadn't eaten in about three days. ever since his last serving of the same bland bullshit, he decided he would rather starve than touch it again. so what, if he lost a little weight? that seemed to be the least of his problems right now.

he didn't care anymore. he just didn't care if he withered away inside this stalag surrounded by his men. that seemed to be the most honorable thing to do at this point- because at least then he'd be around people that knew him, and celebrated him. he'd rather die here and now, miserable, than drag it out and die alone in enemy territory with no one around.

“okay, bucky.” gale mumbled, clearly on edge already and not in the mood to argue. “just…i’ll be outside with everyone else. you should eat some dinner tonight.”

the blonde stalked off, expression and gaze steely and distant as bucky rolled back onto his side, facing the wall and sighing tiredly.

night rolled around and he didn't drag himself out of bed for dinner. he couldn't. the urge to eat, to get up and walk and be active wasn't there. his will to survive had vanished.

gale wasn't the only one worried about him. he heard everyone muttering to one another behind his back as they ate the slop that was served to them half-heartedly.

‘he doesn't look good at all.’

‘i know. when’s the last time he left his bunk?’

‘hush and eat. he can probably hear you.’

bucky didn't care what they were saying. whatever it was, it was probably true. maybe word around the stalag was that major john egan was a spineless, worthless, gutless piece of shit that gave up on everyone around him when they needed him most. harsh, yes, but not necessarily wrong. john was acutely aware of how him laying in this bed, rotting for days on end was selfish to his men. he knew that they were looking to him for guidance, and all he was giving them was a depressing display of self pity.

his mind drifted back to curt. he would always tell bucky that he was one of the strongest and most resilient people he had ever met, and how he would give anything to be as half as stubborn as him.

bucky always shot back that stubborn didn't necessarily mean good, but curt refused to see him in a bad light under any circumstances.

“i got you a bowl.”

gale’s voice. he glanced over his shoulder, gazing at the metal dish that gale was holding in his direction. same meal they'd been served for the last few months. the rumbling in his stomach wasn't even a bother to him anymore.

“thanks buck,” he hummed, turning to face the wall once more. “but i’m not hungry.”

silence fell over the room, tense at bucky’s blatant refusal of the food gale offered. he heard a short sigh from his friend, as well as a scuffing of his shoe against the floor as he turned on his heel and walked away.

he felt his stomach sink with guilt, but he really wasn't hungry. what was the point of eating, prolonging his survival when he would most likely die in the very bunk he was laying in? the thought made his appetite disappear.

he pulled the thin, scratchy blankets they were given over himself, clutching it in his hands tightly as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to this reality.

honestly, it might have been.

𓆩✧𓆪

days and days passed him by. he wasn't able to shake the dread that had begun eating at him days ago. in fact, it seemed to have consumed him whole by this point. he only left the bed when he was instructed to by those goddamn guards, or when he had to use the bathroom. he didn't get up for food, water, to exercise, to speak to friends, nothing. he was not interested but a shell of the outgoing, confident man he used to be.

gale had kept trying to get him to leave his bunk, or to at least put some food in his system. he would bring a plate of food for him every night, and bucky would refuse it all the same. he would tell him that the others were asking for him, but bucky just brushed it off. if they were really worried, they knew where to find him.

only a few other men besides gale came to check on him during the day, hambone being one of them. he started talking about how different things were without him around. it was quiet, and no one really liked it all that much. they missed his snarky comments about the german guards and how he would shit talk them all day. that got a little smile lut of him, he had to admit that. what got him feeling serious again was when hambone started talking about how gale was taking his absence.

“he’s been quiet. way quieter than normal.” he said, voice dropping low. “only says one or two words to everyone before…he just shuts down. goes into autopilot. it's not really like him.”

and he was right. after he had said that he kept think about gale, how he was probably out there with god knows how much on his mind, and for bucky to only be adding to that…

what was he doing?

was he really causing buck that much distress? the thought made his stomach sink with guilt. gale already had so much on his mind, and for bucky to act like a petulant child and add onto all of that stress and anxiety and pain he’s been bearing for the entirety of the men trapped here was so unbelievably shitty.

what kind of friend– what kind of man did something like this to his other half– his rock, his one source of sanity in this camp, in this war?

he curled in on himself further, self loathing and dread curling their ugly black tendrils around him, engulfing him in a pitch black abyss.

he felt so, so sick all of a sudden.

𓆩✧𓆪

“word is there's gonna be another march in a few days,” hambone dutifully informed him, leaning against the creaky wooden wall and staring out the window, into the yard.

bucky was actually sitting up in his bunk today, idly fidgeting with the little radio gale had crafted a few days earlier in his hands. he hadn't actually spoken to buck, finding himself unable to think of anything of value to utter to him.

“again?”

“mhm,” he mumbled, fiddling with the dirty sleeve of his sheepskin. “apparently allies are real close. gale caught word of that last night on that radio. not sure when the germans caught wind. might happen tonight.”

bucky grimaced, setting the tiny radio on the cluttered table, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut at the prospect of walking for days on end just to get to another shitty camp, and rot there for god knows how long. he hasn't eaten in a good week, and he knows his odds of surviving the march on an empty stomach are little to none.

“thanks for tellin’ me,” buck said softly, standing from his bunk and making his way towards the door, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as he stepped outside for the first time in weeks. immediately, he felt eyes on him from all angles.

‘major egan?’

‘he’s okay!’

‘christ, i thought he died…’

he smiled humorlessly, making his way over to the water pump and grabbing one of the metal jugs, placing it under the tap and filling it up with slightly murky water and sighing to himself. he hadn't seen gale yet. a small part of him was hoping that buck would be the first person waiting for him, but he also wasn't in a good headspace to talk to him right now. he didn't know what to say to him, after knowing all the torment he had put him through with his little episode.

he turned the tap off, exhaling deeply and picking up the jug– flushing when he struggled a bit due to the weakness that came with staying in bed and not eating in about a week. he lifted it on the second attempt, huffing and hauling the jug back to his bunk.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw gale, encouraging some men to push a little harder to break the ground using that damned contraption- whatever it was called. he tensed at the sight of him, speeding up his steps until he was safe back in his bunk.

he set the jug down heavily, not even thirsty anymore. that night march could kill him, for all he cared. maybe then gale’s problem’s would be solved.

he laid in his bunk miserably, jug discarded as he thought of gale. he deserved the world, he deserved to be happy, to live a life without having to worry about him being a sad sack of shit, wallowing in his self pity. he did his best to try and keep his spirits up, but he couldn't help it. he didn't have anything to look forward to anymore. life just seemed like a whirlwind of misery and he didn't know how much more he could take. so many friends lost, so many people dead.

maybe when he died, gale would finally move on, lose that stress that came with knowing him. he could only hope.

𓆩✧𓆪

john had lost track of time long ago. he only knew day and night, and occasionally he was told what month it was.

he knew it was late, evidenced by the snores of all the men around him, and how the room was pitch black. the moonlight didn't reach his bunk, leaving him alone in the darkness to stare up at the wooden slats of the bunk above him.

he heard shuffling from somewhere in the room, then the creaking of floorboards as someone moved towards his bed.

“bucky?”

gale’s voice rang in his ears, making him go completely still as if he were a scared cat. maybe he was dreaming, and the gale beside him was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, spurred on by hunger. but when gale didn't leave, he turned to look at the blonde with tired eyes.

“yeah?”

“can’t sleep,” he said softly, and the bags under his eyes seemed to prove it. “mind if i bunk with you tonight?”

bucky wanted to say so many things. ‘of course you can.’ ‘no, i don't want you to get too attached to me if i’m bound to die soon.’ ‘i love you.’ but all that came from him was a little “uh huh,” as he scoot over to make room for the blonde.

he felt his mattress dip, and a familiar warmth crowding at his side. he almost jumped up at the almost desperateness of it all, half expecting gale to just lay by him and turn the other way. the blonde wrapped his arms around his waist, a surprising amount of muscle on them from the training they had been doing in preparation for an escape, and buried his face into the nape of his neck.

it was dangerous to be doing this here, with everyone in the room. anyone could wake up and they'd probably kill them on the spot before the nazis could. no one would accept it– two respected majors, cuddled up together like shy newlyweds in the middle of a shitty stalag, when they should be leading their men, training them, helping out in some way. but, as gale tightened his arms around john, holding onto him as if he'd disappear if he let go, he found that he could care less about what everyone would think of them.

“buck,” he started, voice soft, as soft as it's been in a long while. “what–”

“i’m scared, john,” he whispered, trembling ever so slightly as he pressed closer, like he was trying to become one with the other man. “i’m trying so hard to keep up appearances, to lead and be strong, but i’m scared.” he admitted, fingers digging into john’s side.

john was shocked into silence for a minute. gale was always so well put together. he never cracked under pressure, he just didn't. up in the air, when his engines were out and his crew was panicking, he would land that b-17 like it was nothing. ‘no engine cleven’, they called him, and he just smiled in that shy little way of his, heading to the barracks to sleep off the shock and do it all over again.

he'd seen gale shaken up a few times. when they landed in africa, he was quiet. quieter than usual, anyway. he was staring off into the distance, eyebrows drawn together slightly as he worried that damned toothpick in his mouth until it snapped in two.

but for gale to admit that he was scared was…unheard of. he wasn't the type to show or admit his emotions too openly, none of them were. but being here and eating the same bland shit, not knowing if you're ever gonna get to go home, and watching the last of your friends die during nighttime marches to a new camp did something to you. it broke whatever spirit you thought you had left.

“gale, hey-” he whispered, turning on his side and gently cupping the blonde’s face, watching as tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his flushed cheeks. “hey, look at me. none of that,”

he used his thumb to wipe away his tears, tilting his chin up so that the blonde’s glassy eyes met his. he hated seeing gale cry. he hated knowing that all this time, he's been in pain, the weight of all of these men in camp on his shoulders, counting on him, and all john has been doing is making it worse.

“i’m sorry,” gale sniffs, hiccuping softly, breath picking up as john pulls him close, allowing the blonde to hide in his chest and inhale his scent. “fuck, i’m sorry. i just don't know how much longer i– if i can do this anymore.”

those words put fear into john’s heart. if gale, the brains, the brawn, the heart and soul of the very operation to get them out of here was losing hope– what did that mean for them? were they truly doomed to die in enemy hands, holding onto the hope that allies would somehow manage to sneak close enough to the shitty camps they were held hostage in and launch an attack on the germans?

he knew most of their thinking was extremely wishful, but it was something. a little glimmer of hope in a dark, gray times. for buck, gale was that glimmer of hope– that thing he held onto when all else seemed to fail him. even when he felt he’d die here, at least it would be with buck.

he couldn't let gale give up like this. not for his sake– hell, not for everyone’s sake. if gale gave up, he gave up. and if he gave up, everyone else would give up. a hell of a burden to carry on top of everything.

“gale,” he said softly, taking both of his slender hands into his large ones, caressing the backs of his knuckles with his calloused thumb. “gale, you've gotta keep going. without you, this whole thing would fall apart.” he said, nuzzling closer to him.

“i can't save everyone, bucky.” he hiccuped, trembling in little fits and starts, shattering john’s heart as he watched. “i can't even save the person that matters most to me. if i can't do that then–”

“you don't need to save me.” john said harshly, much more harshly than he intended to. he saw gale wince, and he immediately regretted being so harsh. “i mean– you don’t– i’m just like this. nothing you can do about it, buck. it’s not your job to fix me, okay?”

“i want to. i want you to be okay, bucky. i want–”

he sniffled, nuzzling his hot, tear-stained cheeks into bucky’s large hands. “i want you to be okay. i want you to be there with me, no matter what. i just– we've lost so many men, john. so many. but i still have you. i can save you, i can help you. i just….i need to make you feel better than this. i need you to know how much you mean to me.”

bucky was stunned into silence. he spent all this time thinking gale loathed him for his behavior, wishing he was dead and gone so that he had one less thing to worry about– but gale just spilled his guts to him about how john was the most precious thing in his life right now. not marge– him. him. it made his heart swell with something ugly.

“i’ll always be with you, buck.” john said softly, stroking his blonde locks, once soft but now slightly gritty with dirt and grime from their time in the stalag. even with limited supplies to take care of his hygiene, gale managed to outshine every single one of them in terms of beauty. “what’d i say? if i’m gonna bet on anything, i’m gonna bet on us. y’hear me?”

a shaky little exhale left gale’s mouth, pressing his face into john’s chest like a boy seeking comfort from his mom after a scary dream. john didn't say anything else, just held gale close as he sniffled and sobbed into his chest until he cried himself to sleep, soft snores leaving his pretty pink lips in soft little puffs.

he felt a surge of overprotectiveness wash over him as he watched the blonde sleep, curled into his body and clutching one of john’s hands close to his chest. he didn't need to feel sorry for himself anymore. he needed to be there for gale, so that he stopped carrying these burdens on his shoulders. they were a team, always have been. always will be. nothing in this godforsaken place could change that.

𓆩✧𓆪

john got up the next morning, careful not to disturb gale, who was still sound asleep next to him. he was on his side, almost completely curled up on himself with his thumb pressed against his lips, biting at it idly.

john smiled softly, eyes filled with a fondness for the blonde as he shuffled into his shoes, heading out into the daylight to grab some rations for the both of them.

last night was extremely sobering for him. he had spent so much time wallowing in his self hatred that he hadn't realized that his neglectful actions towards himself had been affecting gale in a negative way. when his friend came to him, crying and sobbing, worried for his wellbeing, insisting that he was the only thing that was worth fighting for anymore, he knew he had to get it together.

he went to the service counter and asked for two servings of food, saying that his friend was still asleep and that he would wake him up when he got back. who would lie for extra slop anyways?

he was given two plates, and he hurried back to his bunk, where a few of the other men began to stir awake, including gale.

“mornin, boys,” he said, setting down his two plates on the lightly cluttered table. “food’s gettin’ served up. go grab some.”

they all let out a noncommittal groan as he sat down at his bunk, digging into his mean of bland potatoes. it didn't taste any better than the last time he ate it, but he’ll be damned if he wasn't hungry.

gale sat up beside him, blinking the sleep from his eyes, which were slightly puffy from crying. his baby blue’s landed on john and widened as he saw him scarfing down the bland mush.

john smiled at him. “mornin’,”

“you're eating.” he said, voice quivering slightly.

he shrugged slightly, stirring the mush around absentmindedly. “got hungry. craved potatoes. you’ll never guess what the canteen was servin’.”

gale was on him in a matter of seconds, hugging him tightly and pressing his face into his shoulder. he was trembling, a shaky exhale leaving him as john set his plate down, returning the hug and smiling against his shoulder.

“thank you.” he whispered, voice so heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.

“don't count on it.”

𓆩✧𓆪

gale bunked with him for the next few nights, out of pure need for comfort and reassurance. he was obviously happy that bucky was eating again, but he was still stressed with all of the ongoings in the camp.

bucky had stepped in and gave a hand in training, instructing the men in what to do and how to do it, but there were just so many of them. on top of that, those german bastards were always waving their guns around, yelling at them whenever they felt like it. john had almost gotten into it with a few of them, but gale har talked him down.

what would he do without him?

“you need to be more careful when you talk to the guards.” gale said, idly smoothing down the fabric of john’s thin sleep shirt, which made john’s chest fill with warmth.

“to hell with those guards.” he muttered angrily, looking into gale’s eyes with a steely determination. “i just got my spirit back. i ain’t gonna let these nazi bastards destroy it again.”

“they'll shoot you, bucky.” gale said softly, looking up at him with a hard gaze. “zero hesitation. they've done it to other men before, and they’ll do it to you.”

“and then they’ll have a hell of a riot on their hands.” he laughs softly, which made gale sigh and press his forehead to his chest.

“why can't you just be good?”

the words caught john off guard, making his cheeks flush and his heartbeat kick up a notch. he felt his heartbeat pick up whenever gale was close to him like this, but it was a pace he had gotten used to, honestly. but hearing gale tell him to be good in a soft voice– as if he were speaking to a dog made his heartbeat kick up in another way entirely.

“uhm,” he started, face flushed a soft pink, hands finding gale’s waist and fidgeting with the hem of the blonde’s shirt. “i can– i can be good, i jus’...”

he was stumbling over his words painfully obviously. he was hoping that gale couldn't see the flush on his face in the darkness of the room, but knowing his luck he probably could.

“what's wrong?” gale asked softly, eyes lidded as his hands halted on john’s broad chest, thumb idly brushing across the fabric of his shirt in soothing little circles. “your heart is beating really hard.”

“nothin’.” he said, way too quickly for it to be true. “just. hot. i ‘unno.”

silence fell, save for the sounds of breathing from the men around them, and their own soft breathing. john really took in gale in this moment, how soft and vulnerable he looked.

his sleep shirt was loose on him, thanks to him losing weight in the camp over the months they’ve been here. his eyes were soft with sleep, lips pink and plump and parted with each little breath he took. god, he was gorgeous. he wanted nothing more than to take him on the bed right now, make him cry out his name so that everyone in the room knew who he belonged to.

he’d had these thoughts of gale since they met in basic training, but they had only gotten worse the longer they stayed in camp. back on base, he was able to keep his mind off of gale, or at least quell his desire by picking up some desperate broad in a bar and sleeping with her. but now, he looked at gale and could hardly keep his mind out of the gutter. he hated it.

“hot, huh?” gale chuckled softly, hands running up john’s chest and resting on his shoulders. “you're a bad liar when it comes to me, y’know that?”

john flushed darker, hands tightening on gale’s waist and pulling him closer, careful to keep their lower halves apart so that the blonde didn’t feel his erection through his shorts. “i’m not lying.”

“mhm?” the blonde chuckles, leaning closer to him, invading his space so that their noses touched, breath mingling together as they stared at one another tenderly, something more carnal and desirous underneath. “why're you hard then?”

bucky choked on a gasp, his face completely red to the point where he was sure gale could see it, even in the dark. their lower halves weren't touching, and yet, gale had known. read him like a book.

“how’d you–?”

“you have a thing you do,” he says, thumb rubbing at his collarbone gently. “you stumble over your words. start touchin’ things with your hands. fidgeting. sometimes it's more noticeable. its a lot less noticeable when you hit on girls at a bar, but i picked up on it.”

john huffed, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and averting his eyes. he wasn't expecting gale to call him out so straightforwardly. it made him embarrassed. he also didn't expect gale to trail a hand down to the hem of his shorts, dipping his cool fingers inside and making john gasp sharply.

“want me to take care of it?”

“gale,” john hissed, eyes wide as the blonde’s nimble fingers trailed lower and lower, scratching at the wiry hair just above his hard cock. “our men are all around us. they might hear us.”

“then you'll have to be quiet, won’t you?”

a strangled noise left john’s throat as gale wrapped his thin fingers around his hot, hard length, giving a tentative squeeze. a shuddery breath left deep from bucky’s chest, his hands squeezing gale’s waist so hard he was bound to leave bruises.

“that good?” gale whispered, shuffling his boxers down and letting john’s cock free completely, swiping his thumb across the head and gathering the precum there so the friction of his hand was less harsh. bucky didn't have it in him to answer coherently, so he just nodded and bucked his hips upwards into gale’s touch.

it was intoxicating, the way his fingers occasionally caught under the sensitive head of his cock and made his cock jerk and leak even more, all over gale’s pretty hand.

“see? look at you.” the blonde cooed, eyes lidded and practically glowing as he gave a twist of his wrist on the upstroke, relishing in the little groans and gasps bucky let out. “you can be good for me, why can't you be good out there? i know you're a good boy, bucky. such a good dog.”

“jesus christ,” bucky swore, stomach tensing up and cock leaking into gale’s palm thickly, precum making the glide of his palm slicker. “i’m gunna cum- oh, god, buck–”

“shh,”

the blonde scolded him lightly, free hand moving to cover his mouth firmly as he jerked him off faster, the wet, slick noises coming from between them downright obscene. he felt like a girl getting laid in her bedroom, her parents right next door as her boyfriend fingered her so good she couldn't help but whine and whimper.

he didn't have time to warn gale as he shot off, thick ropes of his spend painting buck’s chest and stomach a pretty pearlescent white. when he pulled his shirt up, he didn't know.

he came down from his high, and found gale’s lips on his. he kissed back, gentle and hungry at the same time, like he wanted to devour gale whole. he pulled him close, choking out a gasp into the kiss as he felt gale’s erection press into his hip.

“buck,” he panted, letting the blonde thrust against him minutely, the little pleased noises he let out going straight to john’s spent cock, bringing it back to life. “lemme– lemme make you feel good.”

gale exhaled sharply, rolling his hips against him more desperately, now. “please.”

john flipped them over so fast that it gave them both whiplash for a moment. it was short lived, though as he was faced with the sight of gale’s hard cock straining at his boxers. john’s large hands spread the blonde’s thighs apart, tugging his boxers down his hips and letting his pretty pink cock spring free from its confines.

john was on him in an instant, licking at the clear bead of precum that gathered at the pretty pink head. gale gasped softly, his breath shaky and deep as john laved his dick in attention, running his hot tongue along the vein that adorned the underside, sucking at the tip, doing anything but taking it in his mouth yet– to enamored by the sweet little noises gale was making.

“john, please.” buck whimpered, voice soft and needy as he thrust upwards, cockhead sliding against bucky’s wet lips. “please,”

he begged so prettily. who was he to resist?

he finally took gale into his mouth in one go, nose nestled into a small thatch of blonde pubic hair just above his dick. gale bit back a moan, hands flying into john’s pretty curls, gripping them so hard that he was sure he ripped a few strands out. the sting made bucky moan around gale’s length, bobbing his head slowly.

he loved every little noise that left gale– the little gasps and quiet keens as he drooled around his cock, eyelashes fluttering as the tip of his cock nudged at the back of his throat. he wishes that he could hear gale at full volume, whining and begging for more– but they couldn't. not here.

“such a good mouth,” gale moaned, voice breathy and deep and so smooth to his ears, melting his brain as he pulled off his cock completely, licking at his dripping slit and collecting his precum with his tongue. “fuck, wish i could keep your mouth on me all day. keep you quiet. fuck–”

hearing gale cleven, straight edge, no gambling, hates sports gale cleven talking dirty to him like this sent shockwaves directly to his cock. he took him all the way back into his mouth, groaning deep in his throat as he ground against the rough sheets of the mattress, brows furrowed in concentration and pleasure as he took hold of gale’s slender hips. he felt so filthy, so needy and desperate for anything gale would give him, like a stray dog begging for food.

he wanted anything gale would give him. affection, hatred, love, loathing– he was hungry for all of it, for him. his cock was amazing on his tongue, hot and heavy and velvety, leaking in copious amounts down his throat as he swallowed every last drop of him. he could feel gale spasm in his throat, close to orgasm, and he found himself feeling greedier by the second.

“jesus christ,” buck gasped, hips lifting from the mattress, hand tightening in john’s curls, pulling him down onto his length frantically as his stomach began to spasm and tense up. “i’m– i’m gonna– john–”

his throat was flooded with gale’s spend, and he worked his throat around his sensitive cock dutifully as he swallowed it all. it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, it made him hot, it made his brain melt, it made him needy for more–

he felt his cock spill against the sheets, a small whimper caught in his throat as he rode out his orgasm.

when he came to, he was aware of gale whimpering from overstimulation as he absentmindedly suckled at his cock.

“john, please,” he whined, trying to pull free. “enough.”

bucky pulled off, cheek resting on his thigh stickily. they were both panting, faces flushed and eyes glossy with aroused tears. they locked eyes, and john couldn't help the surge of emotion that overcame him as he shot up, capturing gale’s lips in a soft kiss. at this moment, everything felt like it would be okay.

“we should clean up,” gale mumbled against his lips, panting softly. “made a mess.”

“yeah,” john agreed, kissing him again, quicker this time. “think we can score new sheets?”

“we can jus’ move to my bunk for now. toss these sheets aside for morning laundry.” gale hummed, yawning softly and rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy little kid. how he could be so goddamn cute after doing something so filthy was beyond him.

“alright,” john hummed, watching as gale tucked himself into his boxers. “lemme wipe ya down first.”

john untucked a corner of the bedsheets, using them to wipe at gale’s cum stained torso gently, gale squirmed under the attention slightly, blushing at the way john was looking at him, full of love and reverence, like he hung the sun and the stars himself.

once he'd finished, he let gale stand and move back to his bunk, allowing john to rid his bed of the stained sheets and toss them aside for laundry. he'd find an excuse later.

he made his way to gale’s bunk, reversing the roles and cuddling up to gale, nuzzling into his neck and sighing deeply. gale smiled softly, hand carding through his hair gently.

“next time, we’ll try to make less of a mess,” he mumbled, voice deep with sleep as he pulled john closer.

“next time, huh? you fantasizing about it already?”

buck rolled his eyes, and bucky didn't miss the faint flush on his cheeks.

“i’m just saying. it’ll be nicer. maybe it’ll be in a proper bed, without all these people around. just the two of us, in our own bed,” he mumbled, eyes drifting shut. “just us, bucky.”

“buck–”

he didn't get to ask what he meant. he had already fallen asleep, snoring softly into the darkness of the room. buck went silent, pressing his ear to buck’s chest and listening to his steady heartbeat as he mulled over his words. his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

maybe they would get out of here. if it meant he and buck would have a promising life together, he would be damned if he died in one of these godforsaken camps.

he would make it. for them.

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove

#mota #gale #john #buck x bucky #masters of the air #masters of the air fanfic #john egan #gale cleven #hbo war #clegan #eganven #curt biddick

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