#✦ thread | do you want to build a sandcastle.

[iustitians]

"Mr. Kaveh. It's a pleasure to meet you," Neuvillette says with a nod, a faint smile - hardly comparable to the one he had offered Aine earlier, but cordial still - appears on his face.

The work that continues - both between Charline and Aine, and all around them from all the other participants, chatting and laughing away as they enjoy the activity - seems to wake some emotions in his new acquaintance's heart that the Iudex cannot quite name and understand. A mixture of happiness typical for one enjoying one's time with a casual, relaxing activity - and a touch of what almost feels like sadness, or perhaps regret...

What is there in this situation to regret? He doubts he can think of anything, leaving him with the verdict that this must be a personal matter; and since they are not at court, that means it is better if he stops prying and lets it go.

The sandcastle before them, raised by the eager hands of the six year old Charline, the fingerless yet still nimble paws of Aine, and Mr. Kaveh's tutelage, stands now proud and impressive, unbothered by the whims of the lake's waves. Well, until the next storm, anyway. But that is fine - supposedly, at any rate. Neuvillette recalls his own words from earlier, as he explained the concept of the event to the Sumeru visitor. "They wish and hope to promote passion, creativity and appreciation for the beauty of fleeting, temporary things."

He gave no thought at all to the idea when he spoke those words. Considering it now, he wonders if he could say he has ever done that. He, who barely recognizes a singular moment before another year passes him by without him realizing.

He does not think so.

Aine's tugging on his robe and the pleading puppy eyes she gives him knock him out of this dwelling. With a warm smile and a nod, he reaches into his pocket and fulfills his promise, handing her another shell, similar to the first one, lost in the wave. The Melusine takes it eagerly, and she and Charline carefully adorn the main tower's front with it, akin to a symbol. Once it is done, they both clap and cheer, laughing in joy.

"Yaaay, it's done!" Aine exclaims happily, before turning back to him. "So Monsieur! Have you come up with a name yet?"

Ah.

"Give me uh... a moment longer," Neuvillette responds with an apologetic smile, feeling somewhat trapped between his lack of creativity and his unwillingness to disappoint Aine as a father. He sighs, then directs his attention back to Mr. Kaveh, considering his words.

"You said you're an architect, so I understand you have creations of your own. What naming conventions do you go for?" He asks, more out of curiosity and a need to buy time than anything else.

Do You Want to Build a Sandcastle? || Neuvillette & Kaveh

[stevesbipanic]

@steddieangstyaugust Day 15: Childhood

"Hi!"

A voice squeaks beside Eddie who's spent the last hour constructing the best sandcastle ever. He glances to the side and sees another boy, windswept brown hair and sunburnt cheeks.

"Hello?"

"Do you want to play mermaids with me?" The small boy asked, his smile gummy with lost teeth.

"No, I'm building a sandcastle for my knights," Eddie replies pointing to the collection of sticks he'd stuck in the ground.

"Oh," the boy looked sad and started to turn away.

"But we could use a mermaid to protect us, do you have any powers?"

The boy's eyes lit up again, "Yes! I can control water cause my tail is bright blue and I can also transform so I can sometimes have legs." Eddie giggled at the boy's ramblings.

"Well welcome..."

"Steve!"

"Welcome Stevie to Castle Eddie."

The boy's played by the crashing waves until sundown. "Will you be here tomorrow?" Steve asked. Eddie shook his head, "Dad says we gotta keep moving tomorrow."

"Here, have this then so you won't forget me." Steve pulls a thread out from his shirt, a dark red guitar pick was attached. "My uncle gave it to me but I don't really like playing guitar, I like piano better."

"Dude this is so cool, thank you, I'll never forget you, Stevie."

Eddie looked so pale in the hospital bed, a steady beep from the monitor beside him. Steve fiddled with the guitar pick on his neck, gently holding his hand.

"Come back to me, Eds, it took me so long to find you don't leave me alone again." Steve took a shaky breath, "I want to see you play guitar, and take you to the beach again, we can build sandcastles and swim like mermaids just please don't leave me."

The fingers in his hand twitched.

"I want my tail to be red and black."

[merrock]

event: End of Summer Beach Bash

location: Merrock Swim Beach

date & time: August 23-25, 2024

ooc duration: August 18-25, 2024

Welcome to the End of Summer Beach Bash! This party is for everyone in Merrock who is absolutely dreading school starting soon, and the perfect opportunity to have one last hoorah with all of your friends and family before the weather changes. Everyone is welcome. If you bring the kiddos, please make sure to be responsible for them, and pets must be cleaned up after if you bring them along, too.

This time around, the beach has been 'staged' with different areas to enjoy different facets of the party and get involved in fun things, they areas are:

CLUB MERROCK -- a dance floor has been set up, as well as a DJ booth and some tables and chairs, with lights strung above, and potted palm trees for ambiance. bartenders will be serving mixed drinks all night, as well. this area will be open from sundown until 12AM Friday and Saturday night.

CAMPGROUND -- an area further down the beach where you can pitch a tent (or lay out a blanket) to camp for the night if you wish. Fires will be built, as well!

THE BONFIRE -- perfect for just hanging out, singing songs, making s'mores or anything else that you want to do with your night; the bonfire will be lit from sundown until late into the night, Friday, Saturday and Sunday.

THE FEED TROUGH -- food trucks, drink stands, grills, picnic tables, everything that you need to keep yourself well fed while you party! feel free to bring whatever you would like to eat, as well.

THE ATHLETIC PIT -- this area has been set up with horseshoes, quoits, a volleyball net, and has direct access to some of the best surfing and boogie boarding spots at the beach. perfect for getting a game together with your friends!

The rest of the beach is fair game -- stretch out on a towel or blanket, build sandcastles, do some reading, hang out, do whatever you want to do! There will be lifeguards on duty to make sure that you are safe and sound should you decide to go jump into the ocean, as well. Alcohol can be consumed (it can only be purchased & will only be served in Club Merrock, however; otherwise, you must provide your own), but do drink responsibly in common areas!

Let's have a great weekend to end our summer vacations! xx

MOD NOTES: there will be a thread roulette for this event (pinned in our OOC blog!). you're still welcome to make your own plot calls (but please comment on or reach out to others first!), and open starters are highly encouraged. if you would like to post outfits and starters, feel free! use the #merrockfashion and #merrocksocial tags, as usual.

[dongofthewolf]

A Heart’s a Heavy Burden

Abby Anderson x GN! Reader

After arriving on Catalina Island, Abby is afraid to let her guard down. She lives with this constant crushing weight on her chest that she fears will never leave her. It’s not until she meets the reader that things begin to change.

Warnings: Copious amounts of fluff, swearing, basically just a lot of cute shit lol

Anon requested one where the reader goes on a hike with Abby and Lev, I hope you guys enjoy (especially if you requested it) <3 it’s been really nice getting back into writing and this request was so adorable aaaa.

A/N: I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted and for that I apologize. In the meantime, I hope this will suffice. Also peep the Howl’s Moving Castle quote I used for the title lol

After the death of her father and that night in the theatre, Abby has come to the realization that pain and suffering is nothing if not inevitable. There has never been a point in time in which an instance of joy or peace is not soon followed by the truest forms of human depravity. When Abby and Lev arrived in Santa Barbara she thought things would be different. She was filled with this brand new feeling of optimism that she thought was long forgotten, and for the first time in forever she had hope.

Then—almost as if some higher being was mocking her for finally letting her guard down—the Rattlers happened, and it all came crashing down. As easily as a sandcastle is destroyed by the tide, that newfound happiness was gone in an instant and that feeling of despair returned once again. She had almost become accustomed to the suffering and heartache that accompanied those short increments of happiness. 

So when Abby and Lev arrived on Catalina Island, naturally Abby was incredibly grateful, but she was also fucking terrified. The moment that she stepped onto the shore, Abby vowed to never let her guard down again. She never wanted to see Lev hurt again, especially after everything he’d already been through.

It’s easy to imagine how difficult life can be when every happy moment is squandered by the fear of something inevitably terrible happening. It’s been months on Catalina Island and that normalcy Abby has missed so much was beginning to return, yet she is still afraid. A large part of Abby knows that being captured by the Rattlers isn’t her fault, but nevertheless she still feels this tremendous weight on her chest. Bearing down on her, compressing her into something small. 

There is something different about Catalina Island though. Something that makes Abby feel as though—despite everything that has already happened—things will be different here. It’s you.

You were one of the first faces Abby saw when her and Lev arrived on the shore. She had sustained multiple injuries and was suffering from severe starvation and dehydration, Lev the same. You however were in the infirmary for a fractured ankle, and due to the shortage of space she was placed in the bed next to yours. 

There was something you noticed about Abby the moment she sat down next to you. You couldn’t quite place it at the time but thinking back, it was definitely her eyes. There was so much pain behind them. You didn’t know why or how you knew, but it was there. Maybe it was because you had seen that same pain in the mirror that sits idle in the darkness of your room, the one covered by a tattered white sheet. It didn’t matter though, because all you knew was that the pain was there, and you wanted nothing more than to show her that life can be okay.

You woke up early today, laying in bed and trying to shake the sleep from your body, you counted the dust particles that floated in the small beam of sunlight that peeked through your window. While you lay basking in the warmth and stillness of your bedroom, you heard a quiet knock on your door. A small voice followed, it was Lev.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” 

“Yeah, just give me a sec.” You carefully rolled out of bed before slipping on a hoodie and answering the door. 

When you opened the door Lev had a huge smile on his face. “Hi Y/N!” 

That was something you really admired about him. Even after everything him and Abby had been through, he was just full of this giddy optimism that continued to wonder you every day. 

“Hey Lev, what’s up?” 

“I was wondering if you wanted to come on a hike with Abby and I? Apparently there’s something she wants to show you.” 

“Of course, I’d love to! Just let me get ready and I’ll head down in a bit.” Just as the words slipped out Lev embraced you tightly. You giggled as he leapt into your arms. 

“Awesome! I’ll go let Abby know.” Lev released you from his grip before hurriedly running downstairs.

When you found the two waiting outside your room, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight of Abby and her adorable freckles. She looked so much happier now, having grown her hair out a bit and built up some of the muscle mass she had lost. 

“You ready to go?” Abby had her hands hooked in the straps of her backpack as she took a small step closer to you. 

“You bet your ass I am.” 

As Abby led you and Lev along the shoreline you noticed how her skin was almost glowing. You figured it was most likely a product of all the time she spent helping out in the California sun. 

Rather than resting like any normal person would’ve, as soon as Abby was back on her feet, she was desperate to help out as much as she could. Whether it was patrolling the beaches or running the farms, she didn’t care. She just wanted to help. 

It seemed like it was a way for her to somehow compensate for being rescued off of the coast, and you wished you could tell her that she didn’t owe anyone anything—that after everything she went through to get here, there was nothing to repay. Of course though, it’s difficult to console someone when they haven’t exactly told you what was troubling them.

The shoreline bordered between an abundance of rocky cliffs and the tide, and the area was littered with lush greenery. Lev walked ahead of the two of you, jumping from rock to rock with surprising ease.

“Be careful Lev! There are sharks in that water you know.” Abby yelled at Lev to no avail. It was sweet how protective she was over him, even though she knew he wouldn’t fall.

You lightly nudged Abby’s shoulder with yours, the warmth of her skin against yours was comforting. You gave her a small reassuring smile. “He’ll be fine Abs, you know he can handle himself.” 

Abby sighed, looking down for a brief moment before continuing. “You’re right… I just worry you know.” 

“Yeah, I get it. You know, you’re actually pretty cute when you get all protective.” You said it teasingly, but you’d be lying if there wasn’t a small ounce of truth to the words.

Abby smiled, blushing at the comment, but it was difficult to tell in the sunlight. She was grateful the sun had already made her cheeks a light shade of pink. “Shut up.” 

It was nice with Abby and Lev. You spent the day burying Abby in the sand on the beach and chasing the crabs that hid under the rocks with Lev. Abby had packed a whole bunch of food in her bag, and the three of you quickly devoured it all. 

While Lev was building a shark out of sand, you and Abby laid side by side as you basked in the warm sun. After a bit you felt a shift next to you as Abby rolled on her side, leaning on her arm while she looked down towards you. 

“Hey.” Her voice was quiet, soft, similar to Lev’s when he woke you up this morning.

You opened your eyes and nearly melted at the sight before you. Abby was completely shielding the sun from your face which created a halo effect that outlined her entire head. The small strands of hair that stuck out of her ponytail glowed like threads of gold, and you could see clearly now the freckles that danced across her face all the way down to her arms. 

You replied with a soft smile on your face as you laid there admiring all the little details of her face. “Hey.”

“Can I show you something?” 

You gave her a small nod. “Do you want me to get Lev?” As you began sitting up Abby put her hand on your arm to stop you.

“Actually, I was kind of hoping it could just be us. Is that okay?” There was a small hint of nervousness in her voice and you weren’t sure if it was due to the thought of leaving Lev alone, or if it was from something else. 

“I would love that.” The corner of Abby’s mouth curled into a small smile at your answer. 

The both of you stood up from the sand, brushing the excess off of your pants. Abby jogged over to Lev and whispered something quietly before quickly returning to you. 

When you and Abby began walking away from the beach you heard Lev’s voice in the distance. “Have Y/N back by ten o’clock young man, I have a hunting rifle and I know how to use it!” 

Abby rolled her eyes as she yelled back in response. “Yeah, yeah.”

You looked at Abby with a confused face. “He has a hunting rifle?” 

“Nah, I think he got it from a movie. I need to stop showing him those old rom-coms.” Abby chuckled as she responded and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh as well. It’s almost annoying how infectious her laughter was.

Eventually, the two of you reached a long stream of rushing water. It wasn’t too deep, but if you were to fall in, the current was definitely strong enough to swiftly sweep you away.

There was a tiny path of rocks that travelled in a crooked line across the stream, and it was obvious it hadn’t been used in a long time. “Please tell me we aren’t going this way.”

“Come on Y/N, I got you. You trust me right?” Abby didn’t wait for a response as she grabbed your hand and led you across the mossy rocks. 

As you reached the last rock, you let out a breath of relief. All you had to do was prop yourself over the log in front of you and you were home free. Carefully, as you reached your arms up to grip onto the ridges of the bark with your fingertips, you somehow lost your footing and slipped. You yelped and nearly fell face first into the jagged rocks below you, but luckily before you could, you felt a strong arm grab your waist. Abby almost on instinct quickly hoisted you up and onto the log just before you fell to your death. 

While you laid your body down on the dirty log in an attempt to calm the adrenaline that was coursing through your veins. Abby nonchalantly stood up next to you with a huge grin, acting as if you didn't just see your life flash before your eyes two seconds ago. “See? I got you. Now let’s go.” 

You groaned. “Can I get a second? I nearly just died back there.” 

“Don’t be so dramatic Y/N, you know I’d never let anything happen to you.” Abby grabbed your hand and dragged you over the log. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

She wasn’t wrong about it not being far (and for that you were extremely grateful). It only took a couple more minutes until you finally reached your destination, and the moment you saw it, you were speechless. 

Before you was a small clearing that had a view of the entire island. There were two large trees with ripe oranges hanging from it’s branches, and an abundance of wildflowers that danced in the wind like small fairies. The sunlight that shone through the leaves on the trees reminded you of the small beam of light that you were admiring this morning, except this was a thousand times more beautiful.

“Holy shit Abs.” It was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen, and to get to see it with Abby was seriously a dream come true.

“You know, if you don’t like it we can always head back.” Abby teased.

“Oh shut up.” You plopped down onto the soft grass beneath you, breathing in the warm air and letting the blades encompass your body. You noticed Abby was still standing and quickly patted the grass beside you “Lay down with me, you gotta experience it from here.” 

Abby lowered herself tentatively beside you, and although she tried to hide it, you could tell out of the corner of your eye that her gaze was fixed on you. 

Things between you and Abby have always been pretty platonic; sure you guys flirted every once in a while but it never extended beyond that. And as much as you’d like for the two of you to be more, you never wanted to overstep your bounds. You didn’t want to burden Abby with your feelings especially if she didn’t share them, and you definitely didn’t want to ruin your friendship. It was hard sometimes trying to ignore the longing in your heart—trying to ignore the urge to jump into her arms and kiss her whenever she gave you that adorable freckled smile, but you knew it was for the best.

However, with her gaze fixed upon you, and your fingers just inches away, something in you couldn’t help but move your pinkie just slightly in search of hers. It was a small touch. So small it could almost be accidental, but something in both of you knew it wasn’t.

You heard Abby’s breath hitch quietly and nearly pulled your hand back, but then you felt hers move towards yours. Slowly, Abby’s fingertips traced lines against your hand before lacing them together with yours. The gesture was so sweet you nearly melted.

When you turned your head to face her, her cheeks were flushed and her eyes squinted closed like she was waiting for a bomb to go off. It was in that moment that you realized she felt the same longing that you did—that she knew of the ache that occupied your heart, and everything just clicked. 

You tightened your grip on her hand as you brought her fist to your lips, planting a soft kiss on her knuckles. The act softened her expression and she opened her eyes to look at you with that damned smile on her face. 

Abby propped herself up the same way she had at the beach, looking down at you with those beautiful blue eyes. The wind blew loose strands of hair across her face, and you reached up to brush them behind her ear. But instead of retracting your hand, you rested your palm lightly against her cheek, tracing small circles with your thumb. 

Leaning closer, Abby finally broke the silence. “Hey Y/N?”

Your voice was quiet and raspy as you responded with a small. “Yeah?”

She was closer now, her nose against yours and her warm breath fanning across your face. “Can I kiss you?” 

You didn’t respond. Instead you closed the small gap with your lips, kissing Abby tenderly. It was the kind of kiss you couldn’t ever explain to anyone, like a dream you couldn’t quite recall but knew was good. It was perfect.

You could feel her smiling against your mouth as she ran her fingers through your hair and down to your chin.

When Abby pulled away she had this stupid grin on her face, and it was easily the cutest thing you had ever seen. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for.” Abby laid back down next to you as she let out a sigh of relief.

As you rolled over to rest your head on her chest, Abby’s arm moved to hold you closer. “You’re kidding, right?” She looked at you, urging you to continue. “Abby, I’ve been waiting to do that ever since you gave me that seashell in the infirmary.”

Your heart swelled as you recalled how nervous she was—how she didn’t say a word to you the entire time there, until that day when she shakily introduced herself. It was one of the sweetest gestures anyone had ever done for you, and you’ve adored her ever since.

Abby blushed when you brought up the seashell. She remembers that day clearly; you were leaving the infirmary because your ankle had finally healed, and she saw her opportunity to meet you begin to narrow. Abby initially wasn’t going to go up to you because she was way too afraid, but Lev had seen the way Abby looked at you and forced her to go over and introduce herself. 

He is pretty much the entire reason you and Abby were here in the first place, having given Abby that small purple seashell so she could give it to you.

As you lay there listening to the sound of Abby’s heartbeat you heard a rustle in the bushes nearby and nearly jumped out of your skin. Abby quickly stood up, the both of you backing away from the noise. Reaching for the closest thing to you, you grabbed a stick and pointed it towards the source of the rustling. “Who’s there?”

Relief flooded through you as Lev jumped out with his hands up, screaming sarcastically. “Oh no! Please don’t murder me with that tiny stick.” 

While Lev giggled hysterically, both you and Abby groaned. 

“So did you guys finally kiss or did all my work go to waste?” 

Abby rolled her eyes as she reached out to nudge Lev. “You’re such a goober.” 

Lev looked at the two of you suspiciously as he crossed his arms. “You didn’t answer my question.” 

Abby gave him an amused face as she reached for you without warning, picking you up bridal style. And you couldn’t help but giggle as she leaned in and planted a short kiss on your lips. Abby then pulled away and placed you back on your feet, looking at Lev as she spoke “Did that answer your question?” 

Lev excitedly embraced the both of you with a gigantic smile of his face. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.” 

You and Abby looked at each other happily as you answered in unison. “Trust me, we know.”

The three of you spent the rest of the evening in that small clearing. Abby held Lev on her shoulders as he picked ripe oranges from the trees, and when the sun began to set you lay in Abby’s arms as you watched the cascading pinks and oranges in the clouds paint the sky.

While you lay in Abby’s arms she looked at you with a sense of contentment that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Time had healed the wounds that decorated Abby’s arms, and though the emotional baggage still weighed heavy on her heart, life was brighter here with the Fireflies—with Y/N.

She knew in that moment that it didn’t matter if things came crashing down as it almost always did. The pain and suffering of life was worth enduring because Abby no longer feared the inevitable. She had found something to fight for here and as long as she had you and she had Lev, Abby would continue to fight regardless of the obstacles that stood in her way.

[qihuaque]

With Lyney-gege staying close to her side, Qiqi approaches the water, still acutely aware of the way the sand shifts underneath her feet. The going is slow, compounded by her unfamiliarity in the situation—Liyue Harbour, despite being by the sea, has no such beach. The waves are gentle today, but a reluctance to get the bandages at her ankles wet means she keeps a healthy distance between herself and the approaching water.

Ah. Now she is in a predicament, because upon further observation, everyone else is wading ankle-deep with their buckets in hand, holding at an angle so the waves push the water into the bucket. Qiqi looks down at her city-intended shoes and not-waterproof bandages, and then at the sand, and then helplessly at Lyney-gege, who is still watching her like a hawk, as if there is a possibility that she will fall into the water from this far away.

If in crisis, ask for help. Qiqi knows this. Gathering her resolve, she offers the pail to Lyney-gege and asks, “Qiqi would like gege to help collect water, please. Shoes and bandages cannot be wet. Thank you very much.” Surely, since he’s been treating her so nicely and warmly, he will also do her one more favour that she will return the next time he comes to Liyue.

➺ DO YOU WANT TO BUILD A SANDCASTLE ?

[coldshrugs]

vacation, had to get away

featuring: rook and rebecca greene + baby alma word count: 2k note: a @wayhavensummer entry for the 7/11 prompt vacation. warnings for suspense/dark tones and imagery/the feeling of being watched. this isn't what i usually write, but it was a lot of fun!

--- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ ---

When Rebecca tells Rook she doesn't want to go on this vacation, she doesn't tell him why. The car is mostly packed. The beachfront hotel has been booked for months. They bought the baby a swimsuit, for god's sake.

No, she doesn't tell him why. It isn't tangible enough to be convincing.

"Let's call it off. There are so many things I could get done at work this week."

"Becks, I say this with love: you're a workaholic. We're going to the beach for the week." He punctuates it with a kiss. Rebecca doesn't miss the unmarked beige envelope Rook slips into one of the last minute bags; she's not the only one with work in mind.

The following morning, they pile into the car with a few more duffles and that horribly itchy feeling on the back of Rebecca's neck.

She asks Rook to wait while she double (triple) checks the front door is locked. Of course it is.

The itch lingers as they pull out of the driveway. It sticks with her all the way to the edge of town.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," she beams once they're on the highway, once she can breathe.

Bare feet on the dashboard and sunglasses covering her eyes. The sun hasn't even peaked, but it's scorching already. They roll the windows down, and her hair, free from the usual oppressive bun, whips around her face. She feels like Becks for once. Not Rebecca.

"You know everything about me, B."

"C'mon, there's gotta be something." Her mind spins to the envelope in his bag. "One single thing."

"Okay," Rook begins. Full lips part into a hypnotic smile as he chews on the story. "I had a friend in college, Zack, that taught this contemporary dance class a couple weekends each month. It was a few extra bucks in his pocket and he got a couple dates out of it; a pretty sweet gig, right? One weekend he overdid it the night before his class. He shows up at my dorm, looking like death and practically begging me—" his voice rises— "'Otis, please man. I can't lose this job, can you just go down to the rec center and sub for me?'"

"You?" Rebecca recoils, silent laughter shaking her shoulders. "You can't dance to save your life."

"I know this. You know this. Zack should've known this, but apparently he didn't."

"What did you do?"

"I went down to the rec center, put on some Grandmaster Flash, and did the worst interpretive dance you can imagine."

Rebecca shoves the sunglasses into her hair, helplessly wiping at the tears running down her cheeks.

"Zack still owes me," Rook sighs. "Wonder what he's up to now."

Rebecca forgets, for a moment, the nagging in her gut that tells her this is a terrible idea. This is what they need; a week away from Wayhaven, from the Agency, from whatever is... watching.

A week to be normal.

Yeah, this is good.

They stop for gas about halfway to the coast. Rook fills the tank, while Rebecca throws Alma on her hip and heads into the store.

She and the baby jabber back and forth about snacks, and she holds up packages of fruit gummies and crackers for Alma to choose with tiny hands. It's then that her stomach lurches. The unwelcome fingers of dread, cold and sick, squirm against her scalp. She drops both packages, almost drops Alma too. The doorbell chimes, and her grip tightens around her daughter as she turns toward the entrance.

It's only Rook.

And a man in the corner.

She didn't notice him before. He wears a dark suit, and his face is like a knife, and he rushes toward Rook. His sharp features are unsettling even in his haste. He knocks against Rook's shoulder with a rough thud. Rook, transfixed by the sudden touch, watches the man leave. As soon as he's out of the store, the knot of Rebecca's anxiety untangles.

"Rook?" She calls across the store. He doesn't budge. She picks up the small mess she made and calls for him again. "Rook."

Only when she touches his arm does he snap out of the trance with a heaving gasp. And then... he's back to normal.

"What are we munching?"

"What the hell was that, Rook? Do you know that guy?" Her voice is a harsh whisper as she tries to keep Alma from hearing her fear.

His gaze pans slowly, vacantly, from the door to Rebecca. "What guy?"

Like a thick, dry pill, apprehension sits heavy in her throat. She swallows it, along with her growing list of questions. She pays for their snacks and leads Rook outside. Every muscle in her body is tense, prepared for a fight until they're in the car again.

--- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ ---

The week rips past them like a tornado through a small town. Their hotel room (a ground floor double-bed setup complete with the usual washed out pastel textiles and white wicker furniture) looks the part. Alma's scattered collection of shells too beautiful to part with, tacky airbrushed t-shirts draped over the chairs, and a healthy sprinkling of sand being ground into the carpet are evidence of that.

They spend the days exploring the aquarium, strolling the worn and salty boardwalk for unusual shops, dipping into local eateries for fresh seafood. Every other moment is spent on the beach; building sandcastles or running into waves with the baby between them and swinging her up at the last second. Salt spray in her bouncing mass of curls and her squealing laugh stolen by the wind.

Between the clutter and sightseeing, even under the blazing coastal sun, there's always something dark shifting just at the edge of Rebecca's vision. Faint shadows twisting out of view at the last second. The wound-wet itch of unease prickling her skin.

Someone is watching—of that, she's certain.

And then there's the envelope.

Rook's made an excuse or two to be alone. Just running out to grab more sunscreen, or picking up takeout because Alma's too fussy for a restaurant tonight. Innocuous things, but each time he goes, the envelope seems to follow.

Rebecca is sure it holds an answer, or at least a lead.

On the last night of their vacation, he leaves again. But this time, it's a trip for ice-cream with Alma in tow.

Rebecca watches them through the blinds, and once she's sure they're not turning back, she goes for his luggage.

It's not well-hidden. It's nestled under his dirty clothes, sealed with twisted thread that takes a few seconds to unwind. God, he's so unorganized, and for once she's thankful for it.

Carefully, she empties the contents onto the bed: hastily folded, handwritten notes; a few polaroids; and Agency documents? The documents are completely uncensored, not one black bar, not a single covered word. That tells Rebecca everything she needs to know—whatever Rook's doing, it's beyond either of their clearance levels. This is dangerous.

Shit.

That knowledge only nudges her curiosity over the edge. She skims over the pages, drinking in the information as quickly as possible. ...modern supernaturals seek reparations... inhumane treatment... would lose valuable specimens... Agency officials refuse to negotiate.

His notes list locations all over the east coast, some underlined, including the beach they're visiting. The photos show imprisoned supernaturals, each noxious gas cloud above them and their faces distorted in silent, exhausted screams. She recognizes some of them, though she's never been allowed to view them outside a transport situation.

But what's he doing with this? How on earth did he get all this?

A pounding knock shakes the door. Rebecca, torn away from this unplanned investigation, loses hold of the papers in her hands. They flutter to the floor.

"Shit, shit, shit." She scrambles to collect the documents and put them in order.

The knock booms through the room again, more impatiently this time.

Rebecca stalks to the door, dipping into her handbag for the Agency-standard volt gun as she goes. No one's there when she presses her eye to the peephole, but a third thunderous knock sends her stumbling backward with a choked scream.

"Agent Rebecca Greene." The voice is icy, hollow, and this isn't a question. They know her. "I would like to speak with you. Now."

The words are more instruction than threat. Rebecca expects any inaction on her part to change that, so she scampers to the door and twists it open.

It's him.

The man from the gas station. She knew it would be, but knowing and seeing—feeling, because every cell in her body tells her that being so close to this man... this creature... is unsafe—are very different things.

His skin (pale, and tight, and plastic-smooth) lacks definition, as if he's bloodless, and his blue irises are just a little too small, mouth a little too wide. He doesn't look real, and she's grateful the shadow of his hat obscures some of his face.

It doesn't hide the jagged line of his pointed teeth when he speaks though.

"That's better. May I come in?"

Against her instinct, she steps aside to let him pass. Careful not to touch her, he strolls across the room as if he's been here before. She wonders if he has, while they've been out.

His eyes fall to the half-opened envelope.

"What do you want?" Rebecca backs up until her legs bump against the bed.

He sucks in a breath and looks toward the ceiling. "I want to know why your husband is meddling . I want to know why he is watching a Watcher, badly. And—" he points to the documents Rook seems to keep with him at all times— "I have been waiting for this."

Without saying another word, he picks them up and starts reading.

Rebecca's presence is inconsequential. She waits in silence, the volt gun half raised. She tries to keep an eye out for sudden movements from the Watcher (and what the hell is a Watcher? Her mind swings through random bits of mythology and something between angel-but-not and urban legend seems to stick), but it's tough to look at him.

Finally, he exhales and, in a whisper Rebecca is sure isn't meant for her, says, "Friend and not foe, then." Louder, to her this time, "You read this. You witnessed."

"Y-yes," she croaks.

"And what did you make of it? What do you think?" His voice is cold, even, judging.

She doesn't know how to answer. A couple minutes is hardly enough time to sort out the ethics of this situation, much less her own standing. She's done no research, but she's never had reason to doubt the Agency. The only truth she knows right now is this man feels like death walking.

"I don't know what to think. I need to speak to my husband. If he's in trouble, I can help. The Agency can help—"

"If you so readily walk the line between advocate and adversary after witnessing an injustice, then you have made a decision, Rebecca. We cannot use you."

He pulls a pen from his pocket and gives it a sharp click (the movement and sound almost make her pull the trigger of her volt gun, almost) and scribbles something on the back of Rook's notes. Then, he neatly returns the contents to the envelope and tucks everything back into the luggage.

He turns to Rebecca, and his mouth, his smile is wide enough that the corners of her own throb. Phantom cracks that make her wince. Impossibly sharp. "I mean you no harm, and you will not remember."

In a blurred rush, he squeezes her shoulder. Her knees buckle as the door slams.

--- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ --- ☀ ---

"Becks? Hey. Hey, Rebecca, are you okay?"

It's Rook. An echo of him, anyway.

His voice is caught between the song she's humming and another unnamed voice that floods her mind like ice water. She doesn't want to touch that, so she focuses on the song.

And on Rook's warmth.

Dappled morning light across his rich brown skin. Rook softly snoring, softly singing, softly whispering the ways he loves her. She could stretch those small undeserved moments into infinity, the ones in which Rook smooths the roughest of her edges, turns her in his hands and makes her soft too.

He is the quiet thrill of crawling into already warm blankets, the taste of strawberry pie, the sun and the wind on her skin on a long car ride.

He is endless joy, and he is hers.

Right?

Then the warmth is a real pressure against her cheek.

Her eyes are already open but she sees him, both of them, for what feels like the first time. Rook, chaotically charming even through a cloud of worry. Alma, plump and curious, their brightest star.

"How was the ice-cream? Did you guys bring one back for me?" She leans up for a kiss.

Rook meets her lips, brows knitting in confusion. "You okay? You were really zoned-out for a second—and why is the volt gun out?"

She shakes her head. Not a thing in the world could be wrong. They're on their first family vacation. It's been a wonderful trip.

She doesn't understand why he looks so concerned.

"I'm not sure," Rebecca smiles, "but this vacation was exactly what we needed."

[ruby-whistler]

yes, i’m writing third life fanfiction because i can

grian and scar have become my second favorite dynamic duo right after the memento mori boys and no i do not take constructive criticism <3

even if you don’t watch the series reading this would be appreciated!

all of this is platonic, including platonic hand holding - no real warnings, just bonding and emotional comfort :]

Grian walked up the stairs of the sandcastle, dragging step after step with shoulders hunched in exhaustion.

Despite the slight frustration at its size now, he’d taken a liking to the building. It had taken him days to make, not even counting the effort it took to collect all of the sand and wood. It looked beautiful standing on top of Monopoly Mountain, he had to admit, and the way the hastily crafted sandstone glittered in the light made it somewhat of a lighthouse in the desert, reflecting the moon’s rays at night when the outside was most dangerous.

He reached the top of one of the towers, and his tired expression melted into somewhat satisfaction upon seeing a pink sunset fall over golden trees, his friend’s brown hair softly blowing in the wind.

“Hey, Scar,” he said, hoping not to startle the other.

His legs were hanging over the railings leisurely, the close distance to a deadly drop causing an uneasy feeling to settle in Grian’s stomach; Scar slowly turned his head and gave him a smile.

“Hey there.” He shifted, staying seated on the carved birch. His eyes were glazed over, and his smile slightly slipped off his face into a more neutral expression as he turned his head back around to stare at the horizon.

The silence was nice, Grian thought. That day had been a lot, and adrenaline drenches you of energy quickly. Redstone was caught in the loose threads of his sweater, and there was sand in his iron boots. Running through the desert and struggling to get past their own defenses was like smears in his mind, stained with an echoing explosion and panicked shouts.

“Anything on your mind?” he asked after a while, setting himself down besides Scar.

“I... Grian, are you ever... scared of me, now that I’m a red name?” his eyes drifted over to his friend, heels banging on the walls below them, with no concern of dirtying them - and really, why should he care?

It wasn’t like they would last long. Who focuses on gunpowder in their hair when they’re standing next to a killer, bound by invisible chains?

Grian should stop concentrating so much on the details. It might cost him a lot, someday.

“I mean I don’t... I didn’t want to kill people before. I just wanted to have a monopoly, to- control the economy through an elaborate scheme. I thought it would give us better chances at survival.”

Grian opted to ignore the plural in the last sentence, and hummed in agreement. “And now?”

Scar’s clothing rustled, head tilted forwards with his palms laid bare on his knees. “I don’t know,” he responded, looking into them like he was expecting red, “it’s like I have a drive.”

A moment passed as the two looked ahead in thought, no rushing on their minds now that the day was over. The world moves slower when the battlefield is empty.

“Well, I guess... I’m still gonna be there, aren’t I?” Grian responded, arms heavy and leaning back on his hands.

The promise remained unbroken for now, and so did assurance he would be there for Scar, no matter if he himself wanted it or not.

Well, what was it really that Grian wanted? He didn’t know anymore.

He had simply wanted to scare everyone, just wanted to have fun, once, and it landed him here, in a game of survival, with a reluctant murderer whose time was running short. Life doesn’t listen to what you want, and sometimes that is the only constant.

“Tell me, Grian, do you get a... thrill, from taking a life?” Scar lifted up his head, prompting eye contact. “You didn’t have to propose the trap idea, we wouldn’t have taken three lives today.”

Grian looked back down, conflicting feelings stirring in his stomach. “Well...” he started slowly, a smile creeping into his eyes, “Smajor did call me a chaos incarnate.”

Something of relief, of amusement, of straight up baffled laughter coming out of him, so hard he thought his lungs would deflate - standing on top of the hill, looking down upon the crater of his own creation, destruction caused by the victims’ mistakes and sheer luck.

He didn’t think before that he’d call three people losing a life lucky.

“Well, maybe I’m rubbing off on you?” Scar interrupted his train of thought.

“Uh-huh, sure. More like the other way around,” Grian retorted, nudging Scar’s shoulder with a chuckle. “You’re more of a danger to yourself than to anyone else.”

Scar snorted, rubbing his shoulder with his other hand. “Yeah, says the one who took my first life on accident.”

“I mean, that only further proves my point, now doesn’t it?” Grian ignored the stinging feeling of guilt at the mention of his mistakes, pushing it back with a bittersweet smirk.

“Guess you’re right about that one. I still have a few people on my hitlist, though, and they better be ready for me to be a danger to them. Us, I mean,” Scar corrected.

It felt nice, though Grian didn’t know whether to admit it to himself or not. Maybe it would’ve been easier to choose who to be aligned with, but so far, it hasn’t been the worst to be here.

“Just keep in mind I’m not killing anyone, and I’m not getting killed to save you from being an idiot,” he commented.

“Me? Be an idiot? Never!”

Scar’s wide smirk sparked something like quiet determination. The blueprints for a small creeper farm lay folded in Grian’s pockets. The day might’ve been over for most of the server, but there was still work to be done. A couple more nights awake couldn’t hurt, he told himself through heavy eyelids and bruised hands weighing him down, sleep could wait.

“I’m going to get some water from the river. G’night, Scar,” he lied, pushing himself up to stand.

“Can you answer a question, and please be honest with me - would you still be friends with me if it wasn’t for the life debt?”

Grian stopped in his tracks, turning back to his liege to look him in the eyes, an intangible expression on his face.

“Is that an order?”

The light was dissipating from the sky, and scattered torches below them seemed to be getting brighter. The night approaching made the small castle seem safe; a beacon of peace, for now at least. Fingers rhythmically tapped on the balcony as Grian shifted, eyes fixed on Scar’s line of sight.

“I don’t think so.”

There was an air of uncertainty to the words, much like anything spoken that day. New developments always sparked doubts. It was strange, to pretend anything was evident.

“I don’t think I would be here with you if it wasn’t for the life debt, no,” Grian said, and he knew it was the truth, but it felt like a decision to admit it.

There was no bitterness or disappointment on Scar’s face. Perhaps something in between.

Grian shuffled closer to his friend, now sitting comfortably - or as much as the gritty sandstone allowed him to - and put a hand on his.

“But I... am happy this is how things ended up, I think.”

“I think so too,” Scar replied with a brightness in his voice.

[miss-choco-chips]

Umm... I was wondering if you could Maybe do a follow up on your mini fic Last Line from dicks pov? It gave me alot of feelings and i would love to see the fallout?

Your work is really good! Its so cool how your brave enough to put pieces of yourself out there for other people!

Hey babe! Thank you for your kind words! It made me smile getting this, you are very sweet <3

I totally forgot about Last Line lol, but when I saw it reminded me that I actually wrote a bit more of it, both before and after the scene I posted. So, this isn’t exactly what you asked, but here’s some backstory and then the fallout!

---.---

Four years old, and he watches the red string on his finger pulled taunt towards the crying boy, the color of the thread well disguised among the red blood of the murdered acrobats.

Nine, and he watches from the shadows as it swings right and left, following Robin’s pirouettes from building to building. The thread, that usually goes a few feet before ‘vanishing’ from sight, was almost completely visible now, at such a short distance from the person holding onto its other end.

He’s on his twelve when he tries to explain to Dick the importance of him going back home. He wasn’t sure of his success, even though the older hero took him to the manor, because during his whole speech, Nightwing hadn’t looked up from the red joining them together. It wasn’t exactly how Tim wanted him to find out, but… Batman needed a Robin, and he was out of options.

At fourteen, he feels Kon’s hand clenching on his shoulder, as they both watch from the side how Nightwing swept Barbara off her feet and twisted her around, laughter falling from both their lips even as Dick thread’s end was pointing towards Tim. The third Robin didn’t turn to look at his best friend, didn’t meet Bart’s eyes or react to Cassie taking his hand on hers. He just made sure his face was perfectly devoid of any emotion when he muttered, low enough only a kryptonian would hear, ‘I wish it was any of you’. 

(A few nights later, when he and Conner were sitting quietly on the Tower’s roof, the clone took Tim’s hand with his own, his lack of red string blatantly obvious as he said ‘If I had any, I wish it could be you’. To this day, it’s the sweetest thing anyone ever said to him)

He is so, so tired, and he’s only sixteen. But keeping up with the shitfest that was the Battle for the Cowl, helping Dick while ignoring his red string (pulling him towards Nightwing, now Batman, stark contrast against the dark of his suit, with distracting insistency), dealing with Damian’s abuse as expected of him as the ‘mature, older brother’, coping with Bruce’s death, the shock of Dick throwing him, his soulmate, away so so easily…

(Shouldn't be surprising; Dick had been discarding him in favor of others since they met, shamelessly displaying his various relationships in front of him with an attitude that might be called cruel from anyone else but that just earned him playful shoves from other Leaguers while Tim was expected to swallow his pain, because a red string isn’t a promise, Dick is free… and yes, he knows that, but it doesn’t mean shit to his dying heart)

(Maybe, when he left for proof of Bruce being alive, it wasn’t so much for his old mentor than it was for himself)

----.----

Tim is seventeen and halfway across the world, looking at the string attached to his hand that never truly meant anything to any other than him (not to Bruce, who never took Dick aside and talked to him about consideration with his soul mate; not Dick's conquers, who never gave a fuck  about the red string in the hands that touched their skin, even when a lot of them knew who was on the other end of it; not Dick himself, who after asking every thing out of Tim and having it, forcefully took the one thing Tim wouldn't give by choice and claimed Tim was his equal, his soulmate, so he never could be his sidekick... even if it was the first time ever that Dick even mentioned the string tying them both together), when he thinks 'you were always free; now, I'm freeing myself’.

He gingerly bites on the string, and with his other hand takes a handful of it and pulls.

The pain piercing his heart is expected, but not new. He had been feeling it since the first time he saw Dick's back as he walked away with someone else.

He times it carefully, too. He doesn't think Dick would care, but just in case, Tim waits until it's morning in Gotham, when he's sure Dick is probably sleeping after patrol.

Maybe he would wake up without noticing

---.---

In Gotham, Dick is carried by Alfred and Damian to the cave, when the new Batman's screams of pain woke everyone in the Manor up. They are suspecting cardiac arrest, and then Dick looks down to his hand and notices the string, always tense, signaling him where his north is, where Tim is, laying loose and lifeless.

He panics, asks Superman to track Tim down or something, and when the man confirms Tim is still alive somewhere in the Middle East, he knows.

And like a freight train, the parting words Kori told him the last time they saw each other hit him right in the chest.

"He isn't going to wait for you forever"

----.-----

When Tim does come back, at nineteen, it’s a quiet thing. 

He spent the last how many days carefully setting his systems up, making sure his mainframe would outstand Oracle’s scrutiny when she realized he was back in town and tried to hack her way into his life.

(He didn’t blame her, of course not. Dick was charming enough, good enough, anyone he set his eyes into would be helpless to nothing but fall in his arms.

And, wasn’t Tim the one who would have been intruding, had he tried to chase after the first Robin? Everyone knew he and the original Batgirl were a perfect match, thousands of times better than Tim, whom Fate just wanted to screw over.

But not anymore)

The first thing he did, once the safe houses were chosen and his programs up and running, was to ruthlessly hack into the Batcomputer and take a look at patrol routes. 

He would need to keep clear of Diamond District and Old Gotham, least he risked crossing paths with B and R. The Financial and City Hall Districts were apparently Batgirl’s playground for the night, and if he wanted to drop by and let Cass know he was back, he could always search for her by the Upper West Side down to Chinatown.

He would avoid the Upper East Side like the plague, though. Maybe Coventry too, just to be safe. Lots of skintight blue in that direction.

Which left… Crime Alley, the Bowery and Burnley, mainly. He needn't check to know who’s house that was.

And that’s how he ended, on his very first night back on the streets, dragging Red Hood’s bleeding ass away from a blowing up building.

-----.-----

Apparently, saving a recently rehabilitated murderous vigilante was a bonding experience, because Jason didn’t kick him out of his side of town, nor tell on him. 

He couldn't, however, do anything to prevent the criminal gossip mile from spreading, and before a week had passed, half the city was aware of the new player on the board.

-----.------

Jason was taking a breather, smoking while sitting on his favorite rooftop, when the rustling sound of fabric told him his peace and quiet was over.

“I thought you were back at being N”, he greeted, not bothering to turn around or get up. 

“B was out of town, and Robin needed someone to watch over him during patrol.”

A quick glance around had Hood snorting, “Then y’re doing a shitty job. Don’t see the midget anywhere.”

It would never NOT be weird to hear a strangled laugh coming out of the Bat suit, as tight and humorless as it was now. It seemed big ol Dick wasn’t doing so great tonight.

“Batgirl took him to a party in Diamond District. Gang war.”

He humms in response, not bothering to keep on the smalltalk. N, no, B was here for something, and it wasn’t Jason’s job to ask it out of him; if it was important, he would do it himself.

“Where is him, Hood?”, he finally went to the heart of the matter. 

Jason tilted his head, still looking over his city, unmindful of the steps coming closer to his position, “Robin? Ya just said it, B. Going senile? Gang war, wasn’t it?”

“Don’t play around. You know I mean…”

Oh, yeah, Dickie still wasn’t sure what to call Timbo. Criminal gossip only went so far, for someone who didn’t bother to shout his hero name to everyone he beat up. It was very possible only  Jason was aware of his new monicker. All gothamites knew was a young vigilante showed up recently, wearing red and black and hanging out with the Hood, which immediately upped his street rep to ‘not to be fucked with’.

“Lil red?”, he completed for his older brother, feeling both charitable and petty. Batman’s wince was more evident by the rustling sound of his cape; he had hit a sore spot, hadn’t he? 

“Where? I’m not asking again.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not answering. Must be ��roundere somewhere, the little creep.”

“Hood, I’m running out of patience.”

“And I’m out of cigarettes, your point? I don’t have him on a leash asshole. We just share the same hunting space, it’s not like we go home together and do face masks while we talk about feelings.”

They did go to a safespot, though, and share beer and pizza while cursing their relatives and Fate as a whole, but it wasn’t necessary information for the fucker. He just breathed in the last of his smoke before dropping the cigarette butt and stepping on it, stretching as he did.

“Now, any more of this riveting conversation, or can I go? No, wait, it was a rhetorical question; get out of my part of town, ass. I’ve been plenty generous by letting you come this far, but our truce lasts as long as the lot of you don’t build any sandcastles on my playground and you know it. Now, scram.”

He could feel Dick’s reticence at leaving without what he came here for, but Oracle must be talking him into letting it be for tonight, because he didn't push. Jason turned just in the right moment to catch the way Dick looked down to his gloved hand, as if expecting the lifeless red string to be pulled taunt in Tim’s direction by some miracle. Jason felt the smallest ping of pity, quickly washed away by the memory of the younger hero’s haunted eyes as he told Jason the story of his severed soul bond and how he came to do it.

Thirty seconds after the bat vanished into the night, a little red bird landed softly on the spot next to him.

“Thanks, Hood”, he muttered, just as tired and hurting as he’d been ever since he saved Jason’s ass and they became partners, but with the smallest hint of lightness that made him prouder of driving Dick away than he’d ever been.

“Don’t mention it, but fair warning, the big B scomin back home in a few days, and he’s harder to kick out than a hurting, annoying bluebird.”

“I know”, Tim sighed, well aware of both facts. “I’ll play it by ear. For tonight, what about bashing some skulls and ruining Two Face’s new op? Good intel says it’s just a few blocks from here, and shattering bones always makes you smile.”

“Babybird, you speak the language of love.”

“Wasn’t that french?”

“I’m trying to compliment you, don’t be a smart ass about it.”

“I am smart, and I do have a good ass. That seems like an impossible request.”

----.----

[myevilmouse]

How do you feel about people writing fiction That are heavily inspired by yours?

Hi Anon!  Thank you for this very relevant question!  I think in general it’s awesome to inspire others, considering my fanfic is heavily inspired by characters I don’t own and worlds I haven’t originated.  That’s the beauty of what we do.  In fact, on AO3, in that “Related Works” section, there are 4 fanworks that were inspired by my fic, and I wrote 4 fanworks that were inspired by other people’s fic and both those statistics make me proud.

I think it’s kind of arrogant for fanfic writers to say we don’t want someone else playing in the sandbox we created, since we basically borrowed the sand from someone else, if you let me take the metaphor to extremes.  I suggest being flattered when someone writes something inspired by your work, even if you don’t particularly like it or agree with the characterizations or direction they took it.  Once you put your work out there, you’re in the same boat as George Lucas or JK Rowling or Anne Rice or [insert any content creator here].

It’s also important to remember that “original” work we use to write fanfic is ALSO heavily influenced by others.  George Lucas didn’t invent the hero’s journey, nor many of the “trademark” Star Wars-y things that have come to be associated with that universe.  The idea of a child discovering he has special power is a super common thread throughout fiction, sexy vampires have been around since at least Sheridan Le Fanu (and probably earlier) and everyone, to one extent or another, is influenced by those who have gone before.

Now, all that being said, “heavily influenced” definitely doesn’t mean plagiarism.  If someone is deliberately stealing my sentences or stories, that is totally uncool.  I’m not talking about the occasional four perfect words strung together that a person who reads your fic may subconsciously insert into their own, I’m talking about clear and unscrupulous theft.

But as fic writers, we should also be careful not to worry too much about similar ideas in fic, and remember the “two cakes” theory.  Just because I want to write Luke Skywalker getting painted with edible body paint by Sabine Wren doesn’t mean someone else couldn’t have the same idea and want to write a similar premise for their smut.  It’s logical for that pairing.  Where it gets dicey is if the setup, scenario, details are all the same.  Then please still write it, but I want them to give me an “inspired by” credit please :)

I think it’s the ultimate compliment though, for someone to read something you wrote and then want to create something using your work as a launching point.  Someone could write a sequel or remix of my work and that would be super interesting and cool!  One of my “inspired by” fics is a “missing chapter” in someone else’s work, because I adored their AU but had a question like “but what if THIS happened TELL MEEEEEE!” that was never addressed in their fic.  In that case, I asked the author it if was OK to write that missing scene and was so thrilled they said yes, but ultimately, if someone says no, while it may be sort of uncool for you to proceed, it’s still fair game to my mind.  It’s fanfic.  If someone is writing fanfic of your fanfic, that’s no different than what we all are doing, rearranging the sand in the sandbox.

hahaha you knew i was gonna use that gif in here right?!

I think also it’s important to remember you don’t have to LIKE what you inspire.  That’s the whole issue that some authors don’t seem to understand.  Just accept you inspired, and if it’s not your cup of tea, at least allow yourself to enjoy the fact that you have MOVED people to CREATE with your work, which is an amazing and beautiful testament to the quality of your own writing.  Be gracious and zen should you find something awful or substandard but the author wishes to credit your work with inspiration :)  We’re all just building sandcastles together.

Thank you for this wonderful ask Anon!  I hope that answered your question <3

[iustitians]

ooc; biannual status report

I mean, idk if it'll end up actually being biannual, we'll see. But I figured that now that he's been around for half a year (damn time flies), it's a good time for an update.

First off: Neuvillette's blog has received a fresh look, and all of his pages have been updated. Feel free to take a look if you want!

Second: thread tracking. To start with, I owe plenty folks an apology for how long I've been taking with some of those. The muse had a quiet time, to be honest - Neuvillette refused to come out of his office for all of April and most of May. But he and I are back full swing now, and I will be getting to the backlog I have not yet cleared very soon, with a goal of clearing it before the lore part of the event begins.

Under the cut are the threads that I consider active and ongoing. Please don't look at the ping as me rushing you or anything if the thread is in your court! This is just for both your and my information. If there is a thread here that you'd like to drop, by all means, let me know - I do not mind at all. If we have a thread going and it's not here, please also tell me - try though I may, I'm nowhere near as organized as Neuvillette is and I may have missed it.

Thank you all for your patience, and for being here! I'm excited to continue writing with all of you.

Active threads

Over and Under - Wriothesley @dukemeropide (partner's turn)

Do You Want to Build a Sandcastle? - Kaveh @aesthetecomplex (partner's turn)

The Explosion Will Be Otterly Devastating - Cyno @sumerananubis (partner's turn)

Of Raindrops Falling Abundant - Lumine @lightcffireflies (my turn)

I Think We're Gonna Have to Kill This Guy Monsieur Neuvillette - Navia @dellarosula (my turn)

Let's Do It Baby I Know the Law - Rosaria @rosarots (my turn)

Can We Stop Blowing Up Research Institutes, Please - Alhaitham @inscryptions (my turn)

Herbology for Melusines - Qiqi @qihuaque (my turn)

Lantern Rite - Wriothesley (partner's turn)

Ripples - Kaveh (partner's turn)

Hydro DPS Politician Communication - Kamisato Ayato @mabiku (my turn)

Deep Diving - Sedene @sedena (my turn)

It Takes Three - Rosaria & Kamisato Ayato (Ayato's turn)

[criticalrolo]

15, 34, 35, 40, 50 !

15. Are there any loose threads in any campaigns or one-shots/miniseries that you desperately wish would be resolved/addressed?

Oh man everyone knows that I am desperate for content regarding WTF happened while Caddy was on his own in the Blooming Grove right next to shady creek run for like, ten years. I wanna know the LORE taliesin

I also would love to see some more information about what Keyleth has been up to in the past few decades and what Leader Keyleth is like leading the druids!!

34. What’s your favorite CR downtime episode/scene?

It is so hard to pick but I would say no scene has made me laugh harder than the Flashcards scene from campaign 1 with pike and tary, and I think my favorite downtime episode in general is also from campaign 1 where they spend a day at the beach building sandcastles and stuff

35. What’s your favorite CR fight?

The fight with the pit fiend had me HOLLERING at the screen like can you fucking BELIEVE that SCANLAN got the HDYWTDT on a PIT FIEND and then SAVED THEM from an ARMY I was losing my fukcing MIND

See also the fight with Raishan where Keyleth feebleminded her I was SCREAMING!!!

40. What’s your favorite CR quote?

Oh god there’s some Taliesin quotes out there that have truly driven me wild let me think... well there was “I do not want to die who I am.  I would like to live long enough to be someone else” which really uhhh GOT TO ME. There’s also “IT’S FINE, WE’RE GODS” before Keyleth Goldfish which made me scream

50. What CR backstory/arc/moment resonates with you the most?

Oh geez well a lot of Caleb’s backstory is a fucking call out for me haha with the whole “being raised in an environment that had some Weird Practices and not exactly my mental health in mind which left me with some Uncomfy Baggage” but I would say that I also resonate with Yasha and not knowing exactly how to move on past a lot of things in a way that doesn’t hurt but trying my best to stay kind to the people that really deserve it along the way ;__;

[jeonbunnie]

promises: sandcastles

reader x namjoon

♡ genre: angst, smut, fluff if you squint ♡ content: cheating, consensual sex, nsfw, pov shifts ♡ words:  5,320 ♡ song: sandcastles by beyoncé  ♡ synopsis: Marriage life with Namjoon hasn’t been the same lately. He’s been cold and distant, always whispering on the phone. And you can’t help but notice. . .

♡ note: this is part of a series, can be read as stan alone but if you’d like more context the other chapeters are listed below. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3  Part 4  Part 5

♪ We built sandcastles that washed away. I made you cry when I walked away, oh. And although I promised that I couldn't stay, baby. Every promise don't work out that way.

It only takes seconds for you to cross the space between and press your lips to his. For a moment, Namjoon doesn’t move—doesn’t even breathe. Then his arms wrapped around you, brought you flush against him and you melted in his embrace as he kissed you, his lips softer than ever. Deep down, you know you shouldn’t. It would be too painful to become wrapped up in Namjoon again only to tear yourself away from him. But your body had a will of its own. When his tongue swept across your bottom lip, you parted for him like the red sea and every emotion you’d ever felt for him came flooding back.

Every kiss you’ve ever had, every whisper of ‘I love you,’ all of it ignited in your mind the second Namjoon kissed you back in a moment so intense you felt your body tremble at his touch. His lips moved gently over yours while his hands came up to cup your cheeks, and before you know it, you find yourself in the middle of the most sensual kiss you’ve had in your life. Namjoon kissed you like he was hungry, tongue rolling into your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan, arching into his embrace.

It was shameful how your body responded back to him. You could feel your heart rate increase, the heat rushing to your cheeks. You couldn’t remember the last time you wanted him like this. Your thoughts traveled back to the words that sparked your desire: “I want you back, because I love you. Knowing you and loving you has been the biggest blessing in my life. I don’t regret it. I’d I do it all over again, even if it meant losing you.”

All this time you’d been fighting against your love for Namjoon, convinced any feelings he had for you were long gone. But everything he said proved otherwise.

It was confusing to you. You spent so much time thinking that Namjoon didn’t want you anymore, you’d even come to accept it but now? You didn’t know what to think. Your mind was screaming for you to pull away, stop before it went any further. That everything you were doing right now was wrong. Except, it didn’t feel wrong. It almost felt...good. Right.

The truth is you feel exactly the same. Despite everything you’d been through, you still loved Namjoon. He was the love of your life and you wished with everything in you that you could turn back the clock and start over. If what he said was true—if there was even a possibility of Namjoon still loving you, you needed to feel that.

Namjoon’s touch had you desperate. You found your hands tracing the planes of his body, running down his muscular arms before coming back up as you linked your arms around his neck. He kissed you deeper, groaning low in his throat, and the sound was enough to drive you wild. Even this close, you couldn’t get enough of him. All you could feel was the compulsive need for more. More of his touch. More of his kisses. More, more, more.

You could feel Namjoon’s body backing you up to the bed. Your knees hit the mattress and you allowed yourself to fall back against the soft sheets. But Namjoon didn’t fall with you. You opened your eyes, instantly giving way to panic. His pause alarmed you. Your anxiety reared its ugly head, speaking cruelty into your mind. How could you be so foolish? What were you thinking kissing Namjoon? He didn’t actually want you. He was leading you on, playing with your feelings. That’s why he stopped.

You pulled yourself up, leaning your weight back on your elbows to look into his eyes. You expected to see cold rejection on his handsome face, but what you saw in his gaze wasn’t at all what you imagined. Instead, when you looked into eyes, all you could see was raw, unfiltered desire. And strangely enough, uncertainty.

Namjoon had a million thoughts racing through his mind. All of them questions.

How did he end up here, with you spread across his bed when only minutes before you seemed worlds apart? The situation didn’t feel real, more like a fantasy, like he dreamed you up. But if this dream was real--if this dream was really coming true--should he let it?

Of course he wanted you. If you kissed him like this a couple of months ago, Namjoon wouldn’t hesitate to take you; he’d have his way with you until you screamed his name. But tonight, the last thing Namjoon wanted. He’d spent months craving your touch; the feel of your lips against his, how the heat of your body felt flush against his. He caused you enough pain acting on his lust. He didn’t want to hurt you further by taking advantage of the situation.

Both of you got caught in an emotional whirlwind but this kiss was a mistake, wasn’t it? He looked down at you, waiting for you to push him away but you didn’t make a move. Instead, you stared at him, desire burning in your eyes. God, that look alone was enough to arouse him. Still, he didn’t make any move kiss you.

You take a moment to look at Namjoon, really look at him. Trying to uncover the emotion swirling behind his dark eyes. The longer you stare, the more you feel like your heart was going to burst from your chest. You could see his uncertainty but the feeling wasn’t mutual.

Was it insane to sleep with your soon to be ex-husband? Yes. Did it make you want it any less?

Not even in the slightest.

I must be losing my mind. You couldn’t explain it yourself, but kissing Namjoon opened up something in you. Feelings you didn’t know you still had swept all over you. Heat washed over your body. You could feel your skin flush, passion stirring in your blood.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice taut with apprehension.

Your body was practically screaming yes. But Namjoon’s hesitation made you pause.

Reading the confusion in your eyes, he quickly backtracked. “I’m not saying I don’t want to—believe me I do—I just don’t want you to do something tonight that you’ll regret in the morning.”

Your mind wasn’t there. That moment seemed so far off from the ever-present now and the rapid beating of your heart and the warmth of Namjoon’s body. You knew you had to make a choice. Yes or no. There was a small voice in the back of your head cautioning you against this. But tonight you were following your heart. Consequences be damned.

You looked up at him and nodded. “I want this.”

Namoon leaned forward to kiss you, and you shivered at the feel of his lips against yours. This time, there was no hesitation. You couldn’t remember the last time Namjoon kissed you like this.

Slowly, tenderly, like this kiss mattered. Like you mattered. Any inhibition you had melted away as you leaned into his touch. You felt yourself lower back down onto the bed. Namjoon’s hands passed over your body, slimming down your waist, before coming to rest on your thighs. You let them linger there, savoring the feeling of his hands on your body.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. You were so into the kiss, the feel of him you didn’t notice his hands pry off your clothes until you were left in only your underwear.

He stopped then, pulled away from your lips to look at you. Then the only thing you could feel on your body were his eyes drinking you in. The eye contact alone had you squeezing your thighs together. You watched the heat build in his dark gaze until his eyes lingered just a little too long, until your skin tingles all over from the intensity.

Then he was all over you, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Hands cupping your breasts. The feel of him against your thigh. It was an assault to your senses, but instead of overwhelming you, it only made you crave him even more. You arched your back as Namjoon kissed your collarbone, slowly making his way down the valley of your breasts. You moaned at the sensation of his tongue moving down your body, closer and closer you were you needed him most.

“Namjoon,” You breathed, body humming with pleasure. He looked up from between your thighs, dark eyes connecting with yours for a split second. You watched as he hooked his fingers into your underwear and dragged them down your legs. Then he gave his complete attention to your body, licking a long strip straight down your center that had you moaning his name again.

Namjoon gripped your thighs firmly in his hands, pulling you closer towards him. He wanted you to know that this meant more to him than just sex, that he loved you, and that he was more than willing to show you just how much. He takes his time tasting you. Each lick languid and loving. He didn’t want to tease you, all he wanted to do was to please you. To touch you and erase the pain he caused--even if only for a second. Namjoon swirled his tongue across your clit. Once, twice, a third time, drawing sweet moans and gasps from your lips.

You couldn’t keep yourself quiet. It’d been so long since anyone touched you. Throughout everything, you still remained faithful to Namjoon. And even if you’d been with another, no one could ever make you feel like this. Have your toes curling, back arching. It was almost embarrassing how easily you melted under his touch. Some part of you still wondered how you could give in so easy. Shouldn’t you be feeling some resistance? All you felt was longing.

You found yourself rocking your hips against him, and crying out his as his tongue delved deeper.

You wanted to bring your hands up to your face to muffle the sounds but before you could, Namjoon stopped you.

“Don’t,” he said. He took hold of your hands and threading his fingers through yours. All the while his tongue still swirling against you, making lewd sounds that had you feeling hot.

You could feel your body heating up, the rise and fall of your chest coming faster and faster. When you felt him slide tongue inside you, pressing up against your sweet spot—it was enough to push you over the edge. You came, squeezing Namjoon’s hands tight.

Namjoon lapped up your juices, enjoying the taste of your slick on his tongue. Even then he didn’t stop, coaxing a second orgasm out of you with soft licks against your center.

“Joon,” you whimpered, body humming with oversensitivity. “Too much.”

Only then did he pull away, moving to place a tender kiss on the inside of your thigh. He sat up, and you rose on your elbows ready and willing to return the favor, but Namjoon gently pushed you back down on the bed, shaking his head.

“I just wanna be inside you right now,” he rasped.

God, you wanted that too. They way Namjoon ate you out had your body begging for more. You weren't going to argue with him.

Namjoon sat up and placed a hand around your neck, guiding you back to his lips. It started out slow. Soft, sweet kisses against your lips. It wasn’t until he slipped his tongue inside your mouth that he found himself suddenly desperate for you. Even more surprising was your reaction to him. You kissed him back with just as much fever, completely captivated.

The kiss seemed to go on forever. When you finally pulled away, you looked at each other, panting, the air thickening between you two. Namjoon’s dark eyes stared down at you with an intensity that pierced your soul. You knew he felt it too. This energy...There was still love between you. But you’d already made your decision. You wanted this moment, this passion but you couldn’t trust him with your heart and be sure he wouldn’t break it. I can’t fall for him again. I can’t. You wanted him badly but wanting him, and trusting him were two different things.

“Namjoon,” you started. Then stopped, trying to find the right words to explain. “This isn’t—I can’t—”

“—Stay? I know.” Namjoon knew what he was getting into the second you kissed him. He knew this was goodbye, and that it would hurt like hell come morning. He didn’t care. If only he could change the past, he’d take it all back.

But he couldn’t. The damage was already done. This was the last time he’d ever hold you in his arms again. If he could have you, even for this short time, he’d take what he could get. He wasn’t going to fuck it up trying to make this into something it wasn’t. He loved you too much to be selfish at this moment. If this were the last time, he would make it well worth your while.

“I just need tonight.”

Namjoon pulled you tighter against him, molding you against his body. Before making any sudden movement, he pulled back a little to look in your eyes, to make sure this was still what you wanted.

You cupped his cheek and kissed his lips, reassuring him. Then he aligned his cock against your entrance and pushed inside you with one smooth move. You tensed, freezing in his arms. The feeling of your walls clenched around him made staying still absolute torture. But Namjoon wouldn’t dare move.

You close your eyes and breathe out a shaky breath, familiarizing yourself with the burn of the stretch. He’s so thick it takes a minute for your body to adjust to the size. Though the sensation of Namjoon nuzzling into your neck helps turn the pain into pleasure. You hooked your leg around his waist nudging him forward.

The small act made both of you moan in unison. “Namjoon...please,” you sighed

He moved, starting out with a pace that had your insides feeling molten. His hands gripped at your hips as he pulled out almost all the way, then slowly slid himself deep inside you. You were so wet, so tight he couldn’t help but groan. The feel of you taking all of him, giving him this pleasure and the look in your eyes...Namjoon was sure he’d never love another the same way.

This wasn’t just sex. Namjoon knew the difference now. What it really meant to be intimate with a partner. To share his body with someone not for a distraction or stroke his ego but for love. To draw closer with one another. This was it for him. You, it was always you. There would never be another. He started to rock into you, deep and slow, desperate to make you feel that.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation. Needing more, you raised your hips to meet his thrusts and Namjoon took the hint, snapping his hips to meet yours faster. You cried out as he filled you again and again and again. Right now, you don’t worry about future decisions. You don’t think about all the conflicting feelings you had for this man.

Not that you could think about that anyways. Your senses were all wrapped up in how good Namjoon was making you feel. His pace was brutal just how you liked it, but his touch was nothing but kind. His hands trailed up to the small of you back keeping you close. Namjoon cupped your face as he kissed you; he only pulled away to rest his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. You’d slept with Namjoon before, but something about this time was different. If you didn’t know any better—you’d think he was making love you. He was so strong, yet so loving. You wished he could be this way with you always.

You wanted to stay here, savor this moment. But Namjoon was grinding his hips against yours in a way that had you breathless. You were so close.

“Namjoon, I—”

“Come for me,” he said.

Growling, he thrust harder against you and reached down between your bodies to rub your clit, driving you towards your orgasm. Your pleasure built inside you, sweeping over your body like a wave until it crashed and washed over you, sending tremors down your body.

Feeling you come apart in his arms, Namjoon slowed his thrusts. You clenched around him till pleasure flooded his senses and he came too, burying his face in your neck and moaning out your name.

The only sound heard throughout the room was panting as the two of you came down from your highs. Namjoon brushed your hair away from your face and ran his thumb across your cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice full of concern. He rolled off you and onto his side so as not to crush you but remained close, his skin flush against yours.

“Mhmm…” you hummed. You stared at the ceiling as your heart rate slowed back down. You were expecting to feel something. Regret...maybe relief?

You don’t know what you were hoping for. Maybe subconsciously you thought sleeping with Namjoon would help you come to some kind of resolution. A grand epiphany that would tell you what to do with your situation. But really you didn’t feel any different than you did before.

“What are you thinking about?”

You shake your head as if to shake all those thoughts out of your head. “Nothing.”

Namjoon didn’t press you, but the silent tension in the air gave you the impression that he wanted to ask for more.

You’ve never felt so divided. The ego in you wanted to walk away from it all. Say goodbye and cut your losses, no matter the cost. You made peace with leaving because you were so sure that Namjoon didn’t want you. You knew you couldn’t be with a man who had no love for you. But now, knowing that there was still love here. That he still cared, that you still cared. It changed things. You wanted it to work. But you weren’t sure if you could love him the same; there was always the issue of trust. How could you ever trust him again?

“I’m sorry,” said Namjoon. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

You turned to face him then, lying on your side. “It was what it wanted and now…” You trailed off, lost to your thoughts again. You had to think about it. Dig deep and really question what it was you were searching for.

“Now what? What do you need?”  His expression was torn but honest.

So you asked for what you really wanted out of him. You asked for the truth.

“I need you to tell me everything.”

                                                            . . .                                                              

And he does. That night, as you bathe together, he finally tells you the truth. The whole truth.

When the sweat on your skin dried and became sticky, Namjoon ran a bath. You both got inside the clawfoot tub and sat on opposite sides, bodies intermingling as you faced each other. It was thick with quiet as thee bath filled up with heated water.

At first, Namjoon hesitated. You could tell he wanted to spare your feelings. So he gave you the truths in little bits. Pieces of information you could swallow, like the names of his past lovers, and when each act happened. Then slowly, bigger chunks that had you holding your breath as you processed the facts of his betrayal. He told you about it all. About the weakness, the desperation, and the loneliness he felt on tour. The need to touched and seen–really seen–by someone. Even if that someone wasn’t you. How one bad decision turned into two, turned into three. And the guilt. The guilt that accompanied the deception that rose and rose like high flames, eating him up inside.

By the time Namjoon’s done speaking, the water’s gone lukewarm, and your fingers were pruned, yet neither of you gets out of the bath. You let Namjoon bring you to close, till your back's up against his chest. He lathers his hands, and you let his calloused palms wash the pain away. Till the only thing you feel is his light touch. You repeat this action to him, stroking his skin with absolute ease. Then, and only then do you step out of the water. Namjoon drapes a fluffy white towel over your shoulder and wraps it around you.

He looks you in the eyes, and tells you that you're the only woman he’s ever loved. The only woman he would ever love. And you believe him.

                                                            . . .                                                              

That night, you lay down beside him exhausted. Not the kind of exhaustion that comes from lack of sleep or a long day at work. Not the weariness that leads nights of deep slumber–no–this is the weariness that puts stress on your heart. The kind that leaves you feeling drained. Empty. Beside you, Namjoon sleeps, but you’re wide awake.

Every nerve in your body is begging for rest. But it’s your heart keeping you up tonight.

Heart over mind, mind over matter. You're split in both directions. Wanting to stay, and wanting to go. You told yourself that you were leaving. Walking away from it all.

But something felt wrong.

Everything was already moving in one way, but your heart was starting to face another. You still hadn’t made up your mind.

You lie down in bed with your eyes closed and remember the first time you left. Before you knew the truth, before you knew anything really, except for the fact that you didn’t want to live in a lie. You packed your bag and drove to Jackson’s, but you couldn’t make it through the night without breaking down and calling your mom. You spilled your heart to her, and she heard you, even through all the tears. You called to get everything off your chest, but you were also searching for answers. You were desperate for her to give you some kind of sign of what you were supposed to do. An out. But she didn’t.

“Do you remember when you were little, and you used to make sandcastles at the beach?” she asked. “You used to love playing in the sand. Barely even went in the water. You spent all day just creating something, building your own world.”

It caught you off guard. You were so shocked that for the first time in hours you stopped crying. The memory was hazy in your mind, but you could still picture those summer days filled with warm golden sun, and the salty sea air.

“Some days as the sunset, the tide would come in and wash away everything you worked on. And you’d cry. Cry your little heart out. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to pick you up, and hold you in my arms, comfort you. But you were at that age where you needed to start learning how to comfort yourself. So I let you cry. And after you got out all your tears, sometimes you’d start over. Dig your hands into the sand and start building all over again. Make something new. And sometimes you’d give up, walk away and come sit by me.”

“Yeah mom I remember...but, what does that have to do with anything?”

“You built your marriage with Namjoon on a foundation of love, and faith, and trust. That’s your sandcastle. And now that trust has been washed away you don’t know what to do, and you're crying out for me. Baby, I love you, but you’re gonna have to make this decision for yourself. I can’t make it for you. Whatever you decide, I will be right behind you, supporting you. If you want to stay and find a way to be together I will be here. If you want to divorce him I’ll be here for that, too. But you have to decide.”

You let her words sink in. You knew she was right. But you were so frustrated, so overwhelmed you burst into tears again. “How am I supposed to decide? It’s so hard to know what choice is right.”

“I don’t–I don’t want to make a mistake…” You said through sobs.

“(Y/n), the only thing worse than staying or going, is you holding your breath and being indecisive. You have to make a choice. Decide.”

You couldn't think of how to act on your mother’s advice back then, but in the present, you understood. You squinted in the dark and looked a the time. The clock on your nightstand reads 5:22 AM in bold red letters. You hadn’t even realized you’d been up all night with your thoughts.

You looked over at the man causing you this great affliction. Pale moonlight streamed through the window illuminated his heart-shaped face. You once thought of him to be a monster, but he wasn’t. He was just human. And for once, you finally sorted your feelings about him. You weren’t in limbo anymore.

                                                            . . .                                                              

When Namjoon wakes up the next morning–you’re not by his side.

At first, Namjoon is too tired to comprehend what it means to not feel your warmth pressed up against him. But as soon as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he realized he was waking from a dream into a nightmare. And then he started to panic. Rushing out of bed, he slid on a t-shirt and sweats to search for you. He looks for you everywhere. In the bathroom. In the hallway. Gone. He walked downstairs, slow. Heart full of dread. But still looking, still hoping. You weren’t in the living room. Or in the kitchen. Your purse and your keys on the counter were gone, too. Not even your car was parked out front. You are nowhere to be found. You’re gone. Gone, gone, gone.

And it was all his fault.

Namjoon dropped onto the couch and pressed his hands to his eyes tight. So tight that he saw flashes of color, but even that didn’t stop the tears from stinging his eyes. Namjoon knew he was undeserving of you. That this was the punishment he deserved for hurting you. He wished you knew how sorry he was. The regret that he felt.

He was not the same man who cheated on you, who made those bad choices. That man was a coward who chose to run from his marriage instead of towards it. He was afraid to come to you then, and now, now that was all he wanted. How he wished he didn’t hurt you. That you knew how much he wanted this marriage. He’d give anything for it. But that was all over now...Getting you back was impossible. He’d lost the love of his life…

                                                            . . .                                                              

It was just a little after dawn. The sun finally peeked its head out from around the clouds, stretching across your home in vanilla sunlight. Namjoon was so overwhelmed with grief for the loss of his marriage, for the loss of you, he didn't hear the click of the front door opening, or see the look on your face when you finally, finally came home.

You opened the door to find Namjoon sitting on with his face buried in his hands. You went to him, sat on his side, and gingerly pulled his hands away from his face. “Namjoon...what’s wrong?”

He looks up into your face, and there’s shock, and confusion, and tears in his brown eyes. There’s a look of disconnect as he takes in the sight of you, the suitcases standing by the door.

“You left.” He says.

You shake your head.

The tears in his eyes spilled down his cheeks. “You did. You left, and all your stuff was gone. You were gone.”

“Not like that.” You said. You did leave, but not in the way he might have thought. You went to think. To find peace and quiet so you could listen to your heart. “Not for good.”

You made your decision. You decided to love him anyway, and keep loving him, and keep working at your marriage. Even though it failed, you would keep trying. Because love didn’t quit. It wasn’t pride, or anger, or hurt. It didn’t hold grudges or keep resentments. It was patient, and kind, and forgiving. Healing.

And that was what you wanted, right? To heal.

“I’m sorry, I should have approached this better.” You said. “I figured you’d still be sleeping by the time I got back. I just needed to be on my own for a bit. Clear my head, think.”

Alone, you had more clarity about everything. Though knowing Namjoon’s truth didn’t make anything any easier it did help you find your truth. Truly, you loved him. You wanted to make it work.

Namjoon kissed the back of your hand and held on tight. His palms were wet, but you didn’t let go. He looked at you, and something softened in his eyes. “I thought–” he said, voice cracking

“I thought…”

“Me too.”

“You said you’d never come back.”

“I know. That was a long time ago...I promised you that I would leave. But that’s not how promises work anyway. And I don’t want a relationship based on promises. Those are just thoughts. And words. And they don’t mean anything unless your actions match up.”

“We said we’d be honest with each other so,” you took a deep breath, holding it for a minute before saying what you could only admit to yourself in private.

“I know I could start over. Find someone else. There are other men... but when I think about it, but when I think about it, I’ve only ever wanted you. I don’t want to start over with someone new. And kiss strangers. And hope to fall in love again. I want you. I still love you.”

“I love you, too,” Namjoon said. Softly. Without hesitation.

“But things have to change. We just stopped talking. You were my best friend, but we were living like strangers because we didn’t communicate with each other–I can’t do that again. You can’t just keep all your feelings bottled up inside. You need to talk to me. I don’t know if I can be everything that you need me to be, but you have to give me a chance. Don’t shut me out.”

“Can you do that for me?” You finished. You looked at his face and honestly stared back at you.

“I can. I can do anything for you.” Namjoon whipped at his wet face. “If I could take all back I would…I’m far from perfect, and I’ve done things that hurt you, things I’ll live to regret for the rest of my life. But I want to do better. Be better. And I know that I’m a better man when I’m with you … And I want to be by your side. Always. I can’t pretend it never happened. Like everything’s fine and that it’ll all be okay. I don’t know that. But I want it to be. I want to try...”

Now you were tearing up. You squeezed his hand. “So let’s try.”

“But Namjoon, I swear, if you try this shit again--”

“I won’t. I can’t. After everything...baby, all I see is you. I don’t want anyone else.”

Namjoon smiles at you, and this time, it’s a real smile; his eyes turn into crescent moons.

And you smile back.

He leans forward then, till your forehead to forehead, nose to nose, and you both close your eyes, savoring the moment. That feeling came back. The one from the night before. Overwhelming, unfiltered love. And at that moment, you know.

You know you can move on. Fall in love again, rebuild your trust.

And you’ll do it together.

[snowbatsims]

Post ##

Since I finished the whole Strangerville thing, I can go back to posting random shenanigans! Basically, let’s just play catch-up for a bit here. 

I didn’t actually post these ones on the thread, this was just a draft that got too long. 

First up is the Island Living stuff, so I sent them to Sulani for a quick overnight vacation. Sulani in the daytime isn't exactly the best place for vampires to hang out at all, so they went home pretty soon after.

Back at home, the house has gotten a little... haunted?

EINARR: Ah, hello. Old friend.

EINARR: I am sorry to have forgotten your name, but I'm happy to see you again. EINARR: Wait... Marion? Marion Storm! That was it.

EINARR: How's the rest of the crew? EINARR: Ah. Not so talkative today, huh? That is fine.

Kvikindi has started taking up guitar.

She's also taking her time figuring out this whole vampire thing.

KVIKINDI: BAT WAS RIGHT. KVIKINDI: Blood is absolutely delicious.

It's spring, and Morten’s birthday rolled around!

(It's set as a holiday, so immortals can still celebrate it every year without actually aging. Definitely feel free to do this too.)

Siini came visiting for a bit. MORT: What, you don't believe me? SIINI: What would weird alien plants be doing on this flimsy little planet? MORT: Dude, you're an alien too. SIINI: I didn't really ask to crashland here, though! Dazzo's spaceship was a piece of garbage. MORT: Okay, sure. But maybe those alien plants didn't plan on hitting this planet either? MORT: Like, look, that huge Mother plant was in the bottom of a lab, located in the middle of a huge crater. It clearly arrived with an asteroid or something. SIINI: ...Good point.

At this point they're just all hanging out in Morten's room.

RUNE: Oh, you're asking what happened to my new boyfriend? You want to know?? RUNE: He doesn't trust me because I got touched by the spores once! That's it! One time!  MORT: Paranoia, then?

RUNE: Yes. RUNE: But I don't think we've actually broken up yet. MORT: Oh, good. RUNE: Yeah, maybe there’s still hope. 

The birthday present from Einarr was a little fishing trip to the local docks.

MORTEN: This one is so pretty!! EINARR: Cute catch. 

EINARR: Oh, there's a lot of blood to get out of this one. MORTEN: Hell yea!!

MORTEN: O-oh.

EINARR: ...they'll be fine.

MORTEN: What in the absolute heck just happened. EINARR: Alien abduction.

MORTEN: I mean, obviously- EINARR: Do you feel any weird at all? MORTEN: No, not really. EINARR: Well, great!  MORTEN: But wait... I do recall some kind of.. map? EINARR: Map??? MORTEN: Yeah, on the screen? It looked like Oasis Springs. EINARR: Sounds like they were headed that way for something and maybe accidentally picked you up on the way. EINARR: Maybe we should too. MORTEN: What? EINARR: Head to Oasis Springs! Come on, the night is still young! EINARR: We might find something cool! MORTEN: Uh--

MORTEN: Dude, this cave entrance actually glows. That's awesome. EINARR: Oh!!

EINARR: I can break this open. Just give me a minute...

EINARR: So, who goes in first? MORTEN: ...you. EINARR: Alright!

While waiting, Morten builds a sandcastle.

MORTEN: (I wonder if he found anything cool...)

He did.

He found the Forgotten Grotto. And it is absolutely gorgeous.

MORT: Dude... EINARR: I know. Was this worth it? Oh, absolutely. MORT: Yeah.

They both spent a bit of time down there, and built this little shack out of nearby materials before leaving.

Sometimes, I find Morten sitting down here to play with his toy.

My child.. 

Einarr took a night-shift at a fishing job, by the way! I like the work outfit.

Later, a trip to Granite Falls happened.

Practicing vampire powers...

Failing more. 

KVIKINDI: How do you guys DO THIS???

I found him like this. Laying down in the grass. Watching the stars. What a mood.

Exploring the woods!

Finding the hermit. 

Greeting the hermit! MORTEN: Hi!! Morten here, sorry, I'm just kind of passing through. HERMIT: Hello! You're another one of those campers that got lost in the wood, I presume? MORTEN: Yes! MORTEN: So uh, the sun is going up, can I go indoors? Please? HERMIT: I'm a little confused as to why you would need that, but sure. MORTEN: Y.. yeah, you don't want to get into that. Don't worry about it.

MORT: This is really cozy. Goals.

MORT: Blood. MORT: Wh--- NO!! That's the man's pet! What-- what am I even thinking... MORT: I must be hungry again :(

MORT: Might as well clean the guy's dishes while I'm here... MORT: And then leave as soon as the sun is gone. 

Later, they celebrated 17. Mai, a custom holiday of mine set in springtime, which is supposed to resemble the national day of Norway. It's kind of a formal party for the entire country. (I found CC of the national costumes here, so OF COURSE I had to do something about it, right??)

Bat doesn't involve himself since he is not from here and really doesn't care, while Einarr is a couple centuries older than the country itself and also isn't very bothered about it.

They also invited some of Rune's dead relatives. His brother and favorite cousin, in fact.

They had a good time. 

Chilling near the lantern.

Just gonna include these pictures too, in loving memory of the time when we had the ability to at least wade in certain bodies of water.

It was better than nothing, and I want it back. 

[serverstuck]

Have a Trollsona you want to roleplay as while waiting on Hiveswap?

Come join SERVERSTUCK, a Fantroll RP server for anyone from Homestuck Veterans to complete newbies to Trolls! Pester your chums and make new friends!!  With over 200 players, a custom TTRPG system called SUBGRUBS AND SNAZZARDS, and a super fun and friendly community, we’re the best of what Homestuck has to offer in 2018!

To get an invite to the Discord, reblog, like this post, or shoot me an Ask! There’s an FAQ beneath the cut if you wanna find out more about the event and the server itself!

Event Questions

Q: What is this event about?

A: This week’s event is a beach day open to all blood colors, high to low! So get on your swimsuit and head down to the shore to enjoy some fun in the sun! ... I mean moon.

Q: What activities will be happening during this event?

A: There are a few activities that are going to be run:

Sandcastle building contest

Volleyball tournament

STAB (a knife throwing booth)

Q: How long will the event last?

A: the event runs 9/29/18 - 9/31/18!

Q: If I'm in the server, do I have to participate?

A: Nope! We keep the usual channels up during any and all events so that normal rp can still continue!

Server Questions

Q: So what kind of roleplay is gonna happen in this server?

A: Serverstuck is more of a casual type RP than a plot based one. Nobody will be entering SGRUB, but other mishaps and mayhem are definitely on the table in the form of events that the admins will run!

Q: I don’t know much about trolls, I only played Hiveswap- will that be okay?

A: Absolutely! I went through all of the wiki, the comic and game, and now the Friendsim, and made a few educated guesses based on the Trollcall, and compiled all the info on trolls I could into a handy bullet point guide that can easily be glanced over in 10 minutes! You could even join with zero experience with trolls!

Q: I’m not very good at script RP… I prefer to Text in character. Is this the server for me?

A: You know it! Along with channels for locations trolls might chill around, we have not one, not two, but three social media type channels! Prongle, Chirper and Trollian, for 3 different kinds of text RP: statuses, a group chat, and 1 on 1 conversation!

Q: What kind of players can we expect to see?

A: The mod team wants a friendly atmosphere, and as such, we hope to recruit friendly members! People looking for drama, arguments or debate would probably be better off in other servers since this one is meant to be pretty peaceful!

Q: It’s 2018. Why are you still doing this?

A: ;_;

Q: How many trolls can I play?

A: We each start with one troll, but as time progresses, you’ll have a shittonne more! INFINITE TROLLS, BABEY

Q: Is murder legal? A: Absolutely, once you have consent and have discussed with both the other party and a mod!

Q: Have you any rules that we should know about first?

A: The most common ones are 1) we don’t allow Fuschia or Lime trolls and The reason is that there’s only one living Fuschia troll on Alternia at any given time, and they’re extremely powerful, and Lime trolls are all extinct. Q: What will I do with my Fuschia or Lime trolls? A: You can still have em! Thanks to mutations, you can have a troll who’s blood is Lime, and most fuschias can be revamped easily into Violet! Q: I take a long time to make stuff, and I don’t RP often. Can I still join? A: Uh-huh! We’re cool with you coming in and just hanging out with other fans in the general chat!

Q: Are there any organized events we can take part in?

A: You know it! We have events every few weeks! So far, we’ve had an Imperial Visit from the Heiress, a Camp Summerteen Romance AU day, and an Ancestors week! Q: Tell me about the TTRPG system you mentioned! A: Subgrubs and Snazzards is a mod of Apocalypse World, just like Monster of the Week, which you may know from the Adventure Zone Amnesty! It’s simple, to the point, and a hundred percent customisable! Q: 200 players sounds like it’ll be overwhelming…

A: Not to worry! Not all of our players are active daily! Consider it more like a hotel, where many people just check in and out, with a few residents living there on a permanent basis! Either way, you’ll never run out of people to thread with!

Q: I have a question that isn’t on this list.

A: Then shoot me an ask, bud! I’ll help you out in no time!

[smilingformoney]

America’s Most Eligible 2 Diamond Scene: Strategize with Mackenzie and Jen

You: Come on, Mackenzie. I think talking strategy might do you some good. Mackenzie: If you’re offering… I guess it can’t hurt. Jen: I know the perfect place for a strategy session.

Jen leads you and Mackenzie up to the roof, where you find seats across from her. Jen leans forward and looks at Mackenzie intently. Jen: I’m not going to sugarcoat this, Mackenzie… Vince is good at finding your pressure points. Particularly in public, in front of the cameras… Mackenzie: Yeah, you’re telling me… Jen: But if you keep rising to the bait, it’s only going to give him an edge. You: And it’ll make you look bad in the process. Mackenzie crosses her arms. From where you’re sitting, you can see her clenching her jaw. Mackenzie: So the what am I supposed to do about it?

You: I think Jen is saying… -You should find his weak points and fight back!

Mackenzie: That’s what I’ve been trying to get at. I need to give that jackass a taste of his own medicine! Jen: Actually, that’s not what I had in mind… Jen: If anything, you should do your best to shrug off Vince’s jabs.

-You should just let him win.

Mackenzie: Are you serious? Jen: That’s not really what I was suggesting… Jen: I’m just saying, guys like Vince thrive off pushing other people to their breaking point. Whatever you do, you can’t give him that satisfaction.

-You need to play it cool.

Mackenzie: Play it… cool? You: Mackenzie, he’s actively trying to get a rise out of you. But if you stay relaxed around him, it’ll throw him off his game. Jen: She’s/He’s right! Whatever you do, you can’t react to anything he hurls your way. Otherwise, you’re just letting him beat you--

Mackenzie: But I’m not a doormat, Jen. And I’m sure as hell not going to sit there and let this guy get away with insulting me. Jen: Look, I know it’s easier said than done, but you gotta think of the long game. Sure, yelling at him feels great in the moment… You: But it might put you in jeopardy in the competition, especially if you blow up at him on camera. Jen: You’re an amazing contestant, Mackenzie. You just need to change up your strategy a bit… Jen: In fact, let’s roleplay this. I’ll be Vince, and I’ll say something rude to rile you up… Jen: And Jamie can model what a good response looks like… Playing as you. Mackenzie: I dunno if I’m in the mood for community theatre, guys… You: All you have to do is watch. Jen winks at you, then crosses her arms. She speaks on a low tone, hilariously reminiscent of Vince… ‘Vince’: Ugh. Mackenzie is such a bleeding heart! We have better things to do than helping little kids… Mackenzie: He would say that, that two-faced piece of-- Jen: Gonna stop you there, Mackenzie. The whole point is to play it cool! Jamie? You brush your hair back into your face, narrowing your eyes. You stand back, jutting out your hip… Mackenzie: I do not look like that-- ‘Mackenzie’: Well, you’re entitled to your opinion, Vince…

You: But… -I guess we’ll just help those children without you. Mackenzie +2

‘Mackenzie’: Though I think this world would be a far better place if we could work together for the greater good… Jen: And that is how you do it. Staying calm and being sincere about your beliefs makes Vince look like a jerk. Mackenzie: And I don’t have to sacrifice my real opinions to call him out…

-Maybe if you had a heart, you’d understand. Mackenzie +2

‘Mackenzie’: I shouldn’t expect anyone so dead inside to care about anyone but himself. Mackenzie: Damn. I’ll have to save that line for next time. Jen: That was actually a little more cutting than what I had in mind. Jen: But if it ends up making Vince look like the villain he is… You can consider it a job well done.

Mackenzie looks away, thinking for a moment. Mackenzie: Okay, Jen. You win. Jen: It’s not about winning, Mackenzie. We want you to hold your own against Vince. Mackenzie: Well, join the club. I just don’t want him to undermine what I’m trying to do with this Date. It’s not fair to those kids… You: He won’t undermine it, Mackenzie. We won’t let him. Mackenzie offers you a smile, the first real one you’ve seen in a while. Mackenzie: Thanks. But you made a good point earlier about how he already knows what sets me off… Mackenzie: I think it’s only fair that I learn his weak spots too. You never know when I’ll need to go for the throat. You think for a moment, back to your conversation with Vince during the sandcastle building Challenge… You: Vince told me that his on-camera reputation is everything to him, and yet he still finds ways to instigate things during filming… You: But if you play your cards like Jen said, you can make that strategy backfire on him. And make sure the cameras capture everything. Mackenzie: Sounds like you really got to know him when you were partners. You: Hey, ‘know your enemy’ is a proverb for a reason. Mackenzie: Good point. So, what’s the best way to get to him?

You: Vince’s biggest weakness is his… -Persona.

You: He wears his ‘suave’ persona like a suit of armour. If you want to stay on his good side, flatter him! You: But if you want to chip away at that armour, find a way to make him look bad on camera. Then the audience will see the real him. Jen: And from what I’ve seen, it won’t take much to make him lose his cool. Mackenzie: So all I have to do is shine a light on how he fails to live up to his persona…

-Competition with Adam.

You: He’ll never admit it, but he’s obviously intimidated by Adam… which is exactly why he keeps trying to sabotage him. You: If you plant the seed that maybe Vince doesn’t measure up to Adam, Vince’ll do the most to try and best him. Mackenzie: And he won’t have time to mess with me.

-Vanity!

You: You know he spends hours trying to look good for the cameras. When in doubt, go straight for the perm! Mackenzie: Oh, I’d love to see him cry over an out-of-place hair. Jen: I’d advise against any hair-pulling, imaginary or otherwise. But I’m sure you can get creative and use his narcissism against him…

Mackenzie takes a deep breath, as if shaking off her worries. Mackenzie: Thanks, guys. You’ve given me a lot to think about. You: Are you less worried about the Elimination? Mackenzie: Oh, I have my fingers crossed that Vince will be sent packing instead of me. But I think I can relax in the meantime… Mackenzie +2 Mackenzie: Especially now that I finally have the right ammo to deal with him. She grins at you, and you all start to head for the stairs…

Who do you say a private goodbye to? -Mackenzie

As Jen goes ahead, you call Mackenzie back before she leaves the terrace. Mackenzie: Wanted to get me all to yourself, huh? You: I just wanted to make sure you’re really doing okay. Mackenzie: I am. Don’t get me wrong, the ‘take the high road’ advice can be frustrating, but I know you’re right. Mackenzie: And you helping out means a lot to me. Just like these little moments do… She tugs on your shirt, bringing you in for a heated kiss. She chuckles against your lips as you wrap your arms around her waist, pulling her even closer. You: You’re not making it easy to leave, you know… Mackenzie winks, and take you by the hand, leading you downstairs to the others.

-Jen

As Mackenzie goes ahead, you motion for Jen to hang back with you. You: Hey, thanks for helping Mackenzie with this. Jen: Of course! What kind of producer would I be if I didn’t give advice? You: You just… care a lot more than more producers would. It’s one of the many reasons I like you so much… Jen closes the distance between you, threading her fingers through your hair… And pressing her lips against yours. You smile, deepening the kiss. You savour the feeling of her body against yours, the soft noises she makes as she kisses you again and again… Jen: Trust me, the feeling is mutual. Jen cups your cheek, smiling sweetly. After a gentle moment, you both head downstairs to find the others.

-No one

You follow right behind Jen and Mackenzie as they leave the terrace. Mackenzie: Seriously, I can’t thank you enough for all the Vince tips. Jen: I’m glad I could help! I only wish I could do you both a favour… and send him home myself. Mackenzie: Smart, and funny too! I can’t believe you were keeping our star producer all to yourself last year, Jamie. You: You can’t blame me for wanting the very best on my side. Jen shoots you a smile, then leads you back to the others.

-If you already spoke to Adam and Derek

You both feeling better about surviving Vince and Ivy? Adam: If I make it through the end of the week without glaring at my ‘partner’ on camera, it’s all thanks to you. Mackenzie: Yeah, what Adam said. Jen: I’m glad we could help. But now, as your producer, I have to officially recommend that you all get back to the cameras.

 -If you didn’t already speak to Adam and Derek

You: (There might till be time to chat with Adam and Derek…)

What do you do? -Strategize with Adam and Derek! -Rejoin the others.

[taxesdeathtrouble]

"I suggested we go to the beach but everyone is checking you out in your swimsuit and now i’m jealous, but i can’t say anything because we’re not even dating." With Chase as the jealous one obvi because I'm garbage for it

this is unfair.

The six of them are at the beach, because Karolina wanted to cool off and dragged the rest of them with her, and at first Chase was excited. Golden sand, hot sun, the ocean breeze- who wouldn’t be, right? Unfortunately, going to the beach with his friends also means going to the beach with Gert. Gert, who’s wearing teeny-tiny swim shorts and a neon pink bikini top.

Unfair.

She’s stretched out on a lawn chair she stuffed in the back of Chase’s car- because of course that’s how it worked out, the two of them driving here alone. Chase thought he was going to die- long, tanned legs crossed lazily as she reads some giant book about the French Revolution. He’s sitting a little bit away, building a sandcastle with Molly, but he just can’t stop looking at her. 

“Did you put on sunscreen?” He asks, just to be talking to her and not staring like a creep.

“Yeah, but it was before we left. Hey, actually, would you help me get my back? I don’t think I put enough on before, and I’m gonna hop in the water soon.” Halfway through her sentence he’s already standing and making his way over to her, and he hears Molly giggle from behind him.

“Yep, yes, I can totally do that.”

Gert stands, handing him the bottle of sunscreen and turning around, and holy shit, is this really happening right now?

He squeezes a bit of sunscreen into his hands and rubs them together, then, a little shakily, starts rubbing it into her skin. 

When he first touches her, Gert shivers, murmuring, “That’s cold,” and Chase gulps down everything he wishes he could say right now. I want you so bad it makes me ache, I’ve been in love with you for so long I don’t know what to do with myself, please god give me the courage to tell you how I feel.

His hands sweep over her shoulders, then down her back, and honestly, this is killing him. She’s killing him. 

When he’s finished, he wipes the remaining sunscreen down her arms, saying, “All done.”

Gert turns around, giving him that megawatt smile of hers. “Thanks, Chase. Hey, wanna jump off with me?” She gestures to the dock, and he nods.

“You first,” she says when they reach the end, and he winds back a bit before running off the edge, hitting the water with a huge splash.

He hears laughter from above him, and he expects it to be her reacting to getting splashed with water, or something, but nope- she’s talking to someone else. The guy is tragically handsome and ridiculously ripped, and Chase is both extremely jealous and vaguely attracted to him at the same time.

“Hey, Gert, you coming?” He’s yelling, kind of, but Gert doesn’t seem to hear him, so he tries again. “Gert?”

Gert touches the guy’s arm, which is so obviously a move that it hurts, and Chase submerges himself again just so he doesn’t have to watch. When he comes up for air they’re still talking, much closer now, and Chase’s heart is pounding. He knows if he gets out of the water, he’s going to end up fighting this guy, but if he stays here he’s going to burst from jealousy, so he turns and starts swimming vaguely left. The monotony of it makes him almost forget wear he’s going, until he’s nearly to the other side of the beach at the entrance to a cave. 

He stands and wades through the water as it gets shallower, then climbs onto a rock, looking around at how purely pretty it is here.The cave kind of glows in a blueish light, stemming from the aquamarine water, and maybe he should be worried about how water probably shouldn’t glow, but he can’t be too bothered. 

“Chase?”

He’s been gone about a half hour, maybe, when he hears Gert calling his name.

Chase turns his head to see her, purple hair dripping as she squeezes water out of it. “Hey.”

She walks towards him and joins him on the rock. “Hey. Is there any particular reason you felt the need to disappear and freak everyone out? We thought you got kidnapped, or something.”

He smirks and flexes a bicep. “With these muscles? Nah.” 

Gert laughs and shoves him lightly. “But seriously though. What gives?”

To avoid answering the question, he says, “Why do you even care, anyways? Shouldn’t you be off talking to that guy?”

Her eyebrows go up. “Wait. were you jealous?” 

His eyes widen as he tries to backtrack. “Uhhh, no, no I was not not, I just-”

“Oh my god you were totally jealous.” Gert looks delighted by this, the corners of her eyes crinkling up as she tries not to smile.

“I wasn’t, I swear!”“Liar, you totally were,” she leans in a little, poking him in the chest. “I can’t believe you were jealous over little old me, wooow- mph!”

He kisses her. It’s only to shut her up- and because of how beautiful she looks in this light- but he still does it. For a moment she doesn’t react, and he thinks he’s fucked everything up, but then she melts into it, moaning as she kisses him back. His palm is on the side of her neck, strands of hair threaded between his fingers as she squeezes his bicep, her nails digging into his skin. It’s passionate, more passionate than any kiss he’s ever experienced, and he kind of can’t believe this is happening right now. Is he dreaming?

Gert pulls back first, breathing heavily as she says, “By the way, I wasn’t into that guy, like, at all, I was just trying to make you jealous.”

“Really?”

“Yes, you dumbass, I’ve been into you since grade school, please kiss me again?” Her voice hitches, and what is Chase going to do, say no?