#(a day late because i didn't have time to do the prompts yesterday but i still wanted to do this one)

[cryptid-deity]

SSO Promptoween 2024

Day 6 - Orange

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Jaehyun ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Jaehyun x f!famous!reader

summary: you and Jaehyun are paired up for an interview. You should know what texting your boyfriend is like, right?

(cw: f!reader, famous!reader)

"Hi," Jaehyun greets the camera, "this is the perfect opportunity to catch up on some music." He settles into the plush pink chair while he fits the headphones over his ears.

His music begins to play while you enter the set and greet the camera which prevents him from hearing who his mystery partner might be. You pop your earbuds in and explain your screen name, "I chose Cupid because I like to set my friends up and help them in their relationships."

The camera cuts to Jaehyun who stares blankly at the camera, "I choose Valentine, because I was born on Valentine's day."

You settle into the chair and make yourself comfortable while your partner for the video begins messaging you. Whoever it is is very proper, uses all the right punctuation and is straightforward. Your eyes widen at the camera, speaking through the music playing through your earbuds, "is this an old man? Am I texting someone's grandpa?"

The staff bursts out laughing and you decide to text your exact question. Jaehyun's eyes widen and he can feel his ears heat in embarrassment beneath the head phones. He texts back with a slight pout on his face, "No, I'm not a grandpa."

You text back and forth for a while, talking about your hobbies, your MBTI, and just trying to make small talk. When you make a joke he doesn't respond with any laughs or emojis, when you try to make more conversation, he responds with short answers. You lean back in your chair, with a huff, "this person is not very fun. It has to be an old man. He doesn’t get any of my jokes!”

The staff prompts you both to send a picture of your home screens. You had recently updated it knowing that you were doing the interview and you and Jaehyun liked to keep your relationship private. Yes, it was known and public, but that didn't mean you were both open to sharing every little aspect, or really any details. Maybe one day you would both be open to sharing everything, but that day was not today.

You quickly take a screenshot of your screen which happens to be a couple folders of your apps and a widget of some picture you had found on Pinterest against the background of some flowers outside your favorite cafe.

Jaehyun perks up a little bit, "I think this looks familiar. I recognize the chairs and words on the wall, even though I can't really see it. Maybe it's one of the members?"

You study the picture sent to you with your brows furrowed as you zoom in and study the apps and the picture, "this looks so familiar to me. It looks like a restaurant in Jeju I was at a few weeks ago, I could be wrong. Let me ask."

The staff struggles to muffle their laughs at yours and Jaehyun's joint confusion. Of course, the pictures looked familiar to each of you, you were together, and had been to these places together.

You continue to text back and forth for a while, finally getting somewhere when he starts to show a little more personality and send some memes in response to your texts. He seemed to be a pretty funny guy, ultimately making you decide it was not an old man you were texting, just someone more proper and maybe old-er.

When it comes time to have you both send your recent food orders, Jaehyun pouts and furrows his brows as he studies the recent orders you'd sent him. There were 3 recent orders, 2 were for 2 people, and the last one was for a larger group. The orders looked familiar, one order for pizza and the other for ramen. It was food he had recently eaten and as hard as he tried to remember he couldn't remember who he had eaten the food with. His schedule had been so packed lately, everything was jumbled up in his head. "It has to be one of my members," he decides out loud.

You study the screenshot sent by "Valentine" while biting your lip, one of the orders was what you had eaten yesterday. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you it was your boyfriend, but he told you he was doing talk shows and variety shows today. This wasn't considered either right? Does he really text like this and you’ve never noticed? Surely, you know what your own boyfriend texts like, right?

You both continue chatting and whoever it is makes you laugh pretty hard at some points when your partner says something stupid or sends a dumb meme. You laugh especially loud, choking on your spit when he sends you a drawing of what he thinks you look like.

You have tears in your eyes and warm cheeks as you stare at a poor drawing of what looks like a boy, freckles, huge eyes, big smile. Your eyes dart from the screen of your phone to the lens of the camera, “wh- he thinks I’m a boy? This doesn’t even look like a person who actually exists!”

Jaehyun on his own side bursts out laughing after zooming in and looking at every detail of the picture, “there are wrinkles on this drawings face. And it’s bald. He thinks I’m an old man, so weird.”

As the time winds to an end you look at the staff behind the camera, somewhat shocked and saddened by the end. "Time flew by!" you scrunch up your face as you think, "I don't think I have a really good read on who it is. I think it's a man that's older than me and probably someone in the music industry since he related to so much. Maybe he's a dancer or producer of some kind."

On the other side Jaehyun is set on who he thinks it is, "it's one of my members, I know it. I think it's Jungwoo or Haechan."

You both stand and turn to face your partners. Upon catching sight of Jaehyun, you immediately scream and run behind the set laughing while screaming, "you told me you had variety shows today! Go home!"

Jaehyun bursts out laughing, hunched over as his cheeks flush, "you didn't tell me either! Get back here!"

Your voice comes out loudly paired with your surprised and embarrassed laughter, "No! I'm so humilated!"

The staff manages to get you both together for the ending conversation. The cameras start filming and you smack Jaehyun's forearm lightly, "you are a horrible texter."

"What did I even say?" He laughs in shock.

"I never realized how boring you are through words, you text like an old man."

Jaehyun answers the staff as they ask how you both possible couldn't pick up on each other through the texts. Jaehyun looks at the camera while he answers, his hand holding yours beneath the tall table, "I think texting is so boring and annoying. We call each other or video call. If we open our messages we use voice notes, we very rarely actually text each other.

You squeeze his hand under the table, eyeing him with a mischievous look, “who did you think I was? You thought I was a boy, who did you have in mind?”

Jaehyun rubs his free hand over his face, already regretting his guess, “before I tell you, you have to understand my thinking. Jeno and Chenle did one of these interviews together so I just figured it could be another member. I thought you were Jungwoo or Haechan.”

You guffaw, a shocked laugh leaving you as you pull your phone out and pull up the drawing he had sent you, “this is what Jungwoo or Haechan look like to you?”

“I’m not an artist! Well, not that kind of artist, but I think it’s pretty good. I even added teeth in the smile.”

“Babe, that’s creepy.”

“Who knew you were such an art critic all of a sudden?” He playfully asks with a bobble of his head.

The staff subtly tell you both to wrap it up, reminding you to take a selfie before ending the video. You catch the cues and smile at Jaehyun, “we’ve been together for a while now but I feel like I learned a lot about you today. You text like an old man, you can’t draw, and you have a horrible memory.”

“Hey! You didn’t know who I was either! The food orders didn’t give anything away?”

“We’re talking about this later,” you decide to reply as you lift your phone to take a selfie.

“Wait, lift it to this angle,” Jaehyun instructs as he gently moves your arm.

“Wow, so bossy,” you mumble jokingly as you snap the picture.

The screen goes black with the selfie of you and Jaehyun with matching bright smiles on your faces as yours and Jaehyun’s laugh transition into the ending of the video.

[surftrips]

CROSS YOUR HEART AND HOPE TO DIE

pairing: young coriolanus snow x reader

word count: 600+

summary: based on "follow you" by bring me the horizon. young/slightly ooc coriolanus snow finds comfort in y/n's arms.

a/n: yeah, i can't believe i'm returing from my hiatus with a coriolanus snow x reader fic, but here we are. please feel free to send in prompts/requests with him though ;)

"Because I don't want to fucking hurt you.” Coriolanus snapped. "God, half the time, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."

Your boyfriend was having a hard time lately. The anniversary of his father's death was creeping up and you knew he was having those thoughts again.

He had confided in you early on in your relationship his two biggest fears: losing you, and turning into his father. Now, he was spiraling with thoughts of both happening.

"Talk to me," you said, trying to reassure him. The two of you were by the lake, entangled in each other's arms on a blanket.

"I- I just..." he was trying to catch his breath. "I'm so angry all the time and you, you're an angel. You've never done anything wrong in your life. I don't deserve you, I don't know how to not fuck this up."

You couldn't help but smile at his name for you, reaching out to caress his cheek. He leaned into your familiar touch, one of the few things that could calm him down when he was like this.

It was true, he did get mad at the smallest things. Just last week, he got jealous of Sejanus for holding up your skirt as you went down the stairs, even though the two of you were clearly just friends.

And yesterday, he was frustrated with something that happened during training and came back to the cabin furious. You had asked him how his day was, like usual, and he had snapped at you.

"It was bad. Do you have to ask me that everyday?" he retorted, knocking over the items on the shelf closest to him.

But even though he got jealous or angry sometimes, you knew that he was working on it. He always felt awful afterward, and always made sure that you knew how sorry he was. That night, he had drawn a bath for you and even added some wild lavender he found near the water.

"Hey, you know I love you, right?" you said.

He sat up slightly to make better eye contact with you, "I do. But what if that's not enough?"

You frowned, "My love isn't?"

"No, no. I meant what if love, in general, is not enough? What if that's not enough to change my fate? Y/N, you know about my father, he was awful."

"I know, Coryo," you sighed. "But I also know you, and you're a good person. You love me, you love the Covey. You care about me, and your family. You want to be good, and I think that is enough."

Still, he didn't seem convinced. "I hate that I can barely remember him anymore, but he's still haunting me. The rebels that killed him haunt me. What if that happens to me?"

"Stop. No one here is going to do that, they know you're on our side. Don't you see? You're trying so hard to not be like your father, but you don't have to try to be good. You just are, deep-down in here," you pointed to where his heart is. "You are."

He leaned down now to pull you into a kiss. "Angel, can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

"Promise me you'll never leave my side."

"Coryo, you could drag me through hell if it meant I could hold your hand. I will follow you to the ends of the earth. We're in this together."

That seemed to please him, finally. He wrapped his arms tighter around you and pulled you to lay back down with him. The two of you stared up at the stars, each silently wishing for this to work out.

[lost-in-fandoms]

I love your writing so much!! If you are taking prompts (no pressure!!!!): daniel doing something cute for max’s bday while they are together in Perth after Singapore ❤️

Hello, I love you!! You are SO nice and I appreciate you sending a prompt! This was probably not what you were envisioning, even if there are cute things happening, but I hope you like it anyway. I wanted more birthday stuff but it sort of ran away from me. Also, this is about 2k oh god.

Daniel figured out in the early days, even before they were actually together, that Max doesn't care much about his birthday.

He will never say no to cake (unless his trainer gives him really mean looks), he appreciates gifts, and he loves a good party, but he has no real feelings about it being his birthday.

Daniel had asked him about it once, wondering if maybe there was some sort of deep rooted trauma behind it he didn't know about, but Max had just shrugged, easy and relaxed. It is not important, Daniel, when I get old, if I am getting older every day.

He knows that this year Max has no plans for it, and knows that neither of them minds, both just wanting a quiet day with each other.

It's been...a lot, lately.

Even here, away from the crowds and the hungry world that has just recently spit him out, like a bitter and unwanted bite, it's not been easy to let everything go.

The first two days after landing they had barely left the bed, sleeping and kissing lazily, too drained to even have sex. The third day they had spent with Daniel's family. The fourth, the one when the news had become official for the world, he had gotten horrifically drunk, in a way he hadn't done in years, Max being the one providing glasses of water for once and hands on his forehead while he was crying over a toilet bowl. He doesn't have many memories of the fifth one, spent nursing the worst hungover on this side of thirty.

And then he had tried to start his new life.

He doesn't know yet how that will look like, which makes it harder, but he's taking one step at a time, like his mom has been telling him.

Yesterday's step had been joining Max for some training, because he doesn't want to actually become a couch potato, and looking into finding a new internet provider after Max's numerous complaints.

Today's first step is going to be the farmers market.

He considers waking up Max for it, but it's barely seven a.m., and he doesn't actually want to be threatened with bodily harm this early in the day, so he leaves him with a kiss (Max doesn't even stir) and a post-it note on the bedside table.

It doesn't take long for him to decide that the farmers market isn't for him, at least not yet. Maybe it's an acquired taste, but there's just too much going on, bustling people pressing around him, vendors loudly calling out prices, colorful things attracting his attention everywhere, making his head spin.

He manages to get what he wanted and then flees, back to the safety of his car and towards the quiet of the farm.

It's only when he's halfway there that he realises that a few years ago he would have loved all of it, and then has to force himself to not have an existential crisis over it, wondering if it's just a result of getting old, or if something about the last few months has irrevocably broken him.

When he pokes his head into the bedroom, he finds that Max is awake, sitting up against the headboard, phone in hand and blankets pooled around his waist, looking soft and sleep-mussed.

"Good morning," Daniel says, stepping inside and feeling the warmth of Max's smile wrap around his lungs. "Happy birthday."

Max, impossibly, seems to soften further, his ears growing pinker.

"Thank you," he says, his voice still raspy with sleep. He reaches for Daniel, but he holds up a hand, taking a step back towards the door.

"Hold on, I have something for you. Don't move."

He watches as Max makes a show of settling back against the pillows and stilling there, beaming at him when Daniel laughs, retreating in the other room.

He comes back holding a paper bag and a bottle of orange juice in one hand and a small bouquet of flowers in the other, offering both to Max with a smile, refusing to feel self conscious about it.

Max blinks up at him, fingers just a touch away from Daniel's hand, surprise and confusion mixing on his face.

"For me?" he asks, soft and amazed.

Daniel nods, not really trusting himself to speak, and Max finally closes the distance, wrapping his fingers around the bunch of stems and taking the flowers from Daniel, pulling them close to his chest and burying his face into the colorful petals.

Daniel doesn't really know what kinds of flowers they are, he just chose a few that looked pretty, but he doesn't think it matters. Not when Max looks up at him again, cheeks red and eyes bright, smiling wide wide wide, happy and lovely.

"Thank you, Daniel," he says, so earnestly it cracks something open in Daniel's chest, unwanted and unexpected, making him feel like everything is too much once again.

Luckily, Max seems to notice, because he always notices, and he settles the flower gently on the blankets, uncaring of the wet stems, before tugging Daniel down in his lap. His hands are solid weights on Daniel's hips, and for the first time since he woke up that morning, Daniel feels like he can breathe fully, settled and steady, the feeling of being adrift that he had refused to acknowledge pushed away for a little while longer.

"What's in there?" Max asks, thumbs rubbing circles on Daniel's hipbones, gesturing with his chin towards the paper bag still in Daniel's hand.

The smell of baked goods has for sure given it away already, but Daniel makes a show of it, extracting a croissant as if it was a bunny from a magic hat, wishing Max's laughter could seep right into his bloodstream, weaving itself around his cells.

Max bites into the croissant cheerfully, not minding the flaky crumbs that rain down on the sheets, thanking Daniel again and humming his approval.

Daniel's chest feels warm.

"What's that?" Max asks again while he chews, pointing at the orange juice.

"Orange juice," Daniel tells him, untwisting the cap and offering the bottle to him, missing Max's hand as soon as it's gone. "Watched Marco squeeze it fresh myself."

He does his best to keep his face straight as Max hesitates, bottle halfway up to his mouth, eyes narrowing.

"Marco?"

"Charming guy, yes," Daniel teases, unable to keep himself from smiling any longer, amused by Max's frown, "about sixty years old."

The frown disappears as fast as it had formed, and Max smirks at him, finally taking a sip.

"Forty years too old for you," he says once he has swallowed, laughing at Daniel's outraged squeak.

Max makes it up to him by offering him the middle bite of the croissant, sweet custard oozing onto his fingers, and then again by kissing Daniel thoroughly, sweet with vanilla and sugar.

"I have something else," Daniel tells him some time later, when they're all kissed out, pushing away from Max's chest and clambering back onto his feet.

Max follows him without question, tugging on a pair of shorts abandoned on the floor, and grabbing the flowers from the bed, taking them to the kitchen counter before joining Daniel outside.

Daniel grabs his hand, because he can here, away from prying eyes, and guides him around the porch to a cardboard box peeping quietly.

Max gasps, immediately crouching in front of it and opening it, letting out a surprised laugh when he sees what's inside: four little chicks, fluffy and pale yellow, tweeting up at him.

"You said we needed them to have a real farm," he says, carding his fingers through Max's hair, "and mom said I needed a project."

Max has his fingers in the box already, trying to pet the chicks without startling them, but he leans back to beam up at him, eyes crinkling.

"I love them," he declares, steady and unashamed, before turning back to the box.

This time, he manages to scoop two chicks up in his cupped hands, taking them out and cradling them against his chest, humming happily.

"I think you're their mama now," Daniel jokes, "you'll have to come back for them."

He knows he's said the wrong thing as soon as it's out of his mouth, Max's shoulders tensing, even as his hands stay gentle around the chicks. He doesn't know how to backtrack though, doesn't really want to, so he watches as Max puts them down again and gets up, knees cracking.

He goes to make a joke about that too, something about Max getting old, but the words get stuck in his throat at the sight of Max's unhappy expression.

"Of course I'm coming back, Daniel," Max says with a frown, steely certainty behind it. "Did you think I was going to leave and..."

He doesn't finish his sentence, crossing his arms and looking away, blinking rapidly.

"I..." Daniel swallows, picking at a cuticle on his thumb. "I'm sorry."

It's again the wrong thing to say, Max turning back towards him, eyes shiny and thunderous expression.

"I love you, Daniel," he snaps, forceful and determined. "I love you, Daniel, not the you who races. I am not going to fuck off and leave just because..."

He shakes his head, reels himself in. Daniel doesn't know if he's breathing, but if he was, he stops when Max steps closer, bringing his hands up to cup his cheeks.

"I will have to leave, because I need to finish this season, and maybe the next, I don't know, but I am always coming back. Any time I can find time, I will be here. Or in LA, or wherever you will decide to be."

Max swipes his thumb along Daniel's cheekbone, leaning forward to gently thump their foreheads together.

"I wish you were racing with me," he whispers, a confession he hadn't let Daniel have yet. Daniel's heart is split open. "Always it is better, to race with you. I thought we would be racing until we both retired, but I don't care that it is different. I will miss you, when you're here and I am there, and then I will come back."

Max's fingers are damp with Daniel's tears now, and Daniel lets himself be tugged closer, wrapped in the safest arms he knows, hiding his face in Max's neck.

"I'm sorry," he croaks again when he finally finds his voice again, twisting his hands on the back of Max's sleep shirt.

He feels Max's take a deep breath, letting it out against Daniel's hair.

"I wish I could fix it," he says slowly, measuring his words, "but I don't like when you say that I will leave. I have never left. I will not start now."

And he's right, Daniel knows he's right, but it's been hard to remember what he still has lately, after everything went down.

He nods against Max's skin and then lets Max hold him, gently rocking side to side, the chicks peeping softly at their feet, until he doesn't feel like he's going to break with every stuttering breath anymore.

"I was thinking we could go down to the trail," he murmurs, lips dragging against Max's damp shirt. "Take some food, have a picnic. I bought bread rolls."

Max squeezes him tightly once more before putting some distance between them to be able to look at his face, smiling gently.

"I like that. You can make the food while I take the babies to their new coop."

Daniel freezes.

"You have bought a coop too, right Daniel?" Max asks, eyebrows raising. Daniel can feel himself blush.

"I...didn't think about it?" he tries to justify himself.

For a second Max just stares at him, and then he starts laughing, dropping his head against Daniel's chest.

"Stop laughing at me!" Daniel whines, hitting Max's shaking back, but making no move to step away.

Max hits him back, then straightens himself, laughter still etched in the lines of his face.

"Alright," he says, slightly out of breath, "we are going to buy a coop instead. Or build a coop, I don't know what is better, we'll have to call your dad. And we'll do the trail tomorrow, or the day after."

Tomorrow, or the day after.

It seems to hit Daniel all at once, that this is the start. He has tomorrow, and the day after, to do anything he wants. To go on hikes with his boyfriend, to think about new projects, to pick up old hobbies and interests, no schedules to stop him. And he will have tomorrow, and the day after, even when Max has to leave to go racing again, because Max will come back, to have more tomorrows, and the days after, with him.

He surges forward, crashing his lips against Max's, who gasps in surprise but eagerly kisses him back, until all that's left in his brain is tomorrow and Max.

Only then he lets Max go again, stepping back with a smile.

"Let's go get a house for the babies, baby."

And in the lines of Max's smile he can almost see it already: tomorrow, and the day after.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Sweet Tooth (Joe Goldberg x gn reader x Love Quinn)

Summary: you're a big fan of the bakery, but Joe and Love are after something sweeter- you

Warnings: obsessive behavior from Love and Joe but that's about it

A/N: my mom made me a carrot cake recently and it inspired me to write this

Everyday you entered A Fresh Tart right after lunch, needing a little something to satiate your sweet tooth before heading back to work. Sometimes it was a cake, sometimes it was a cookie, sometimes a pie, but it was always delicious.

Love quickly caught on to your routine, always making sure she was free to assist you whenever you came in. If another customer needed help, they were just going to have to wait, because you were much more important.

The bell chimed above the door to signal that you'd arrived, prompting her to smooth out the front of her apron before putting on a bright smile. "Hey! I was wondering when you were going to come in."

"I had a meeting that ran a little late, so my lunch hour got pushed back some," you replied with a smile that mirrored hers. The unfortunate bags under your eyes didn't escape her, a sure sign that you were overworking yourself, but the faint dimples that formed on your cheeks quickly diverted her attention. How cute.

"Well, you're here now. So, what can I get for you?"

While you mulled over what kind of confection you wanted for the day, Joe peeked his head out from the back. So that's the person Love always raved about coming in just after noon. You were cute, he couldn't deny that.

"If you're having some trouble making a decision, why don't you try both and see which one you like better?" He heard his wife offer when you clearly became stuck on choosing between two different sweet treats.

"Oh, I can't do that," you began to protest before Love waved her hand dismissively at your words.

"Nonsense! It's my bakery, and I say you can have a sample if you wish," she insisted while cutting a small sliver of cake from the one in the glass display case before grabbing the second pastry you'd been eyeing, placing them both in a paper to go box. "Try both, and tomorrow you when you come in you can tell me which one you liked better."

"That's awfully kind of you. Are you sure I don't owe you anything?" You asked as she slid the box across the counter, already starting to pull out your wallet.

"Of course not! It's on the house."

Despite her words of reassurance and warm smile, you still felt as though she deserved something in return, so you took out a five dollar bill and stuck it in the tip jar. "I'll be back tomorrow at my usual time."

Her eyes twinkled with admiration at the small act of kindness. You were so much sweeter than any of the things she baked, that much was certain. "See you then."

Joe came out from the back as she was watching you leave, slightly amused at the exchange that just happened. Before he could speak, however, she beat him to it.

"I want them."

It wasn't a suggestion or a request, it was a demand, one that wasn't left open for any arguments. Love wanted you, and what she wanted she got. All she needed to do was get him on board, which shouldn't be too hard given just how irresistible you were.

The next day when you came in, Love wasn't there, having taken Henry to a doctor's appointment for a check-up, which meant the she'd left Joe in charge.

"Oh, hey," you greeted in a friendly manner despite never having met him before. "You must be Joe, right? Love told me that she ran the place with her husband."

Immediately he knew why she wanted you so much. Everything about you just screamed perfect, there was no doubt about that. "Uh, yeah, hi. She told me you were having some sort of difficulty choosing between two items yesterday," he casually mentioned, wanting you to think their marriage was much smoother than it really was. They couldn't lure you in successfully if all you saw were their problems.

"I did, you're right," you replied with a soft laugh, one that made his heart leap forward in his chest. God, no wonder Love always dropped everything just so she could see you whenever you came in. He suspected the only reason she'd offered to take Henry today was so he could officially meet you and become just as obsessed with you as she was.

"And were you able to make a decision?" He was curious about you already, curious about your personal taste, your likes and dislikes. He needed to know it all.

"Well, they were both amazing as usual, but I think I'm going to have to go with the cake. Everything about it was delicious, especially the icing," you fondly reminisced, almost beginning to salivate at the thought alone.

"Sure thing," he said while grabbing a knife to cut you a slice, unable to stop himself from thinking about just how sweet your lips must taste after every trip you made to the bakery. He'd have to try a piece of the cake himself a little later so he could imagine it properly.

Your eyes were wide with giddy delight as you observed his every move, clearly excited to be able to eat the cake when you got the chance. You were just about to pull out your wallet when he held up his hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it. Love told me to tell you it's on the house."

"You know, one of these days you're really going to have to let me repay you somehow," you commented while dropping aother five dollar bill into the tip jar, just like you did last time.

Joe was already thinking of ways for you to repay the both of them, but they were far too lewd for him to say out loud. "You have a nice day," was his response instead, giving you a small wave as you left.

Damn it, he was hooked. There was no way he could refuse Love's order, because now he wanted the exact same thing she did: you.

And they were going to have you, one way or the other, no matter what it took.

End notes: I loved writing this and I'd totally be up to making a part two if anyone wanted it <3

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[emeraldoodles]

The Master Post from Serizawa Week 2024

I had lots of fun participating! Mine are little snapshots from the week, linking one day to the next.

If you would like more story read below.

Thanks @ygodmyy20 & @acermp100 for letting me bound ideas off you the whole week. Also, @yu-artist for sharing the Seriweek prompts!

Monday, March 25th - Friends

Serizawa made going back to school look so fun Minegishi decided to join. Sometimes Dimple/Yoshioka likes to stop by and say hello. Today he was a distraction to Serizawa, so he had trouble paying attention and listening to the homework assignment.

Tuesday, March 26th - School

Poor Serizawa, having to stay up late to finish an assignment. At least he's not alone. The cat's name is Gizmo! Thanks @acermp100 for the cat name suggestion. @secretagent9 I really love the idea of a Gundam name, but not being a fan I didn't know what to choose.

Wednesday, March 27th - Outfit

Reigen and Serizawa were hired to exorcise mischievous spirits that kept harassing the maids at a cafe. Serizawa was very tired from yesterday's school assignment and not on his A-game today.

Reigen volunteered to lure out the ghost by wearing a maid's outfit, but maybe he just wanted to wear it. Serizawa is wearing his cute butler outfit! The maids were very excited to dress him up, not so much Reigen

Reigen: Those brats! Wont even help me tie my apron. Grumble. *struggles to reach behind*

Serizawa: Here, let me. *zips up and hooks Reigen's dress and ties the apron*

Reigen: *many hand gestures* Competition, that's what is is Serizawa! I'm competition because of how good I look.

Serizawa: *chuckles* You do look good sir. Very pretty, very cute.

Reigen: R-really? *blush* I-I er, I mean of course! Now! Let's get to work!

Poor Reigen, he got ice water dumped on him several times that day. He wasn't feel great before the exorcism, but was wiped out by the end the assignment.

Thursday, March 28th - Food

Mrs. Serizawa is teaching Kastuya how to cook, so he can stop living off instant noodles. Today is a hearty beef & leak stew!

Mrs. Serizawa: Remember, the leaks need to be thoroughly washed.

Kastuya: Nods, Nods!

Mrs. Serizawa: Also, the more passion and enjoyment you put into your cooking will reflect in the final dish. So, relax and take it slow and your love will shine through.

Serizawa is learning how to make tonjiru soup. He wants to make it for someone "special" this week.

Friday, March 29th - Spring

Dimple: I don't get it. If you're worried about Reigen go check up on him.

Serizawa: I don't want to intrude on his privacy.

Dimple: Ugh, you two are impossible.

It was an unusual day. Reigen didn't show up for work and Serizawa just got a message from him saying "I n68 sick".

Saturday, March 30th - Comfort/Bravery

Serizawa: Reigen, please eat a little more.

Reigen: No, I feel so sick.

Serizawa: But you've not eaten since Thursday. Here, let me get you just some broth.

Reigen: Kastuya...

Serizawa: Y-Yes?

Reigen: I.... I... Bucket. I need the bucket.

Reigen proceeded to dry heave into the bucket while saliva and tears fell in. Serizawa rubbed his back while he continued to convulse for several minutes.

Sunday, March 31st - Birthday

Serizawa went over to check on Reigen, who surprised him by throwing a little birthday celebration. It was just the two of them, but Reigen originally had planned something bigger. Luckily, the present, a multiplayer game, arrived on time, so they could play together.

Reigen was still sick, and drugged up, and making bad decisions. But Serizawa didn't mind. A love confession from Reigen made this the best birthday.

[whynotjohnlock]

Doctor x ADHD reader

^ My mental state at any given time when anyone asks about what happened yesterday.

Warnings: fluff, It might be a tad long, Grammar mistakes, you may feel slightly offended if you're a nerotipical person, the author wrote this because they didn't want to sleep and needed comfort.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You'd forgotten something again. Was it about your job? Your family? Your friends you hadn't kept up with because you had misremembered the dates for? That one hyper fixation that you had today?

Nothing matched. Your brain was screaming at you for the time you wasted rethinking about what you had forgotten; but nothing came to mind.

A normal day then.

Then, as a distraction from your thoghts a high tech laser blaster thing punched through a brick wall and you started running for your life. Again.

There were alien pepper shaker robots with plungers. Why where they just repeating themselves over and over? Was that just how they spoke, or was there more to it? Was it nessasary to the way they shot lasers?

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" A laser jolted and swished right next to you.

"Right, I have to run."

And run.

And run.

And run. Except, now you had to not crash onto the person-

To late.

"Oh, hello humans! Is this your way of saying hello? Did I miss a decade?"

You reluctanly graped the strange man's hand. You were not fazed by the oddness in the queston; your thoghts were stranger. "I don't think so. It's just the fact that there are alien pepper shakers with plungers after us."

The man's face darkened, his youthful peesona flown out the window. "Where?"

You knew that the police would be of no help and the sadness in this man's eyes seemed to be familiar. "Can you help us if I tell you?"

"Short answer: Most likely."

"Now witch way?"

The question prompted eternal panic. Witch way was left? You couldn't remember. Were you facing north or south? You couldn't just point in a direction, because you had run in a extremely non-linear way.

Words had never been an accurate source of communication for you. Why were you this way? Well, you knew why; you had been diagnosed with ADHD, but that didn't answer your question. Why did you always forget the things you wanted to remember most? The strange man looked rather inpatient at your mental sputtering. You had to do something! So, you did the only thing you could think of at the time. Quickly you grabbed his outstretched hand and ran, guiding him though the chaotic path you had taken.

Your mind had not managed to retain much running for your life, but your feet did.

 ...Pass the blue house. 

...Turning 90 degrees at the broken stop sign. 

...Jaywalking around the stopped cars in the street.

...Turning again after the nameless black dog.

...Though a corporate building.

…And to the familiar building with the tin tanks.

your hand still fully clasped with this stranger you had just met, you spoke in between panting and gasping for air. "This is it. These are the alien metal tank creatures."

As if on cue, the screams not even across the blook started up again and an army of daleks (Not that you knew what they were called at the time) turned into view.

The madman lurched forward in outrage much like a predator looming in on their prey. He was unnerving. "Alright listen up! I am the Doctor, and you are the daleks! You have no right to this world, and It’s protected by none other than me. And you have made a grave mistake messing with me when I don’t have a companion, or anyone to holding me back. Leave before I run out of mercy."

"THE DOCTOR IS UNARMED. WE WILL DO NO SUCH THING."

EXTERMINATE!

A laser shot from the thingy that would have hit the silly man instead wiped by him as I pulled him into a run again.

Hiding behind a dumpster in an abandoned alley the Doctor fiddled around with a metal glowy stick and welded something together from his pockets quickly. "What are you doing?"

"No time to explain, get me some sort of electrical circuit board!"

"Will my phone work?"

Wordlessly the Doctor takes my phone, prys it from it's cashing, snaps it in half, and conects it to a very peculiar looking device.

EXTERMINATE!

The Daleks find us again but this time we don't run. The Doctor chucks the machine at the invasion party they aim towards us ready to end us.

EXTER-

The Doctor aims his tech stick toward the sky causing his device to activate. The result is instantaneous. Every dalek that was in front of us and firing ends up blowing up in several malformed chunks.

More daleks screech out words as they approach us. "EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!"

"Ha! I've rerouted the your primary weapon to your self-distruct sequence by changing the commands signals! The doctor is never helpless unarmed, you lot should know that by now."

"RETREAT! RETREAT!"

The Daleks start to be enveloped by an otherworldly white glow and disappear all at once.

The mad man seems to return to an upbeat face and seems to slip his mask back on seamlessly as if the darkness never touched his eyes. He looked again to be a harmless Nerodiverrgent, clumsy and meek as if he hadn't just felled a armada of aliens ready to destroy the earth. he muttered under his breath about inter-galactic law, blissfully unaware of all the odd looks his direction who believed him insane.

It reminded you of the mask you had to put up for all the "Normal" people in your life. How many times had you stopped being every thing you were just for a brief connection?

"Hello, I think introductions are in order! what did you say your name was?"

You plunged back into the real world from your thoghts. "Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, you seem awfully calm considering your planet was just invaded."

"I could say the same thing about you. Also how did you do all that? Are you even human?"

"I'm the Doctor." The man enthusiasticly spoke as if that explained the anomalys of the day.

"Is the your last name or did you just have mean parents that named you Doctor?"

"I'm not human, and it's common for my species to have titles we choose for names."

"Right. I suppose another alien species isn't the weirdest thing that's happened today."

The Doctor broke out into a brilliant little grin. And reached into his coat pocket to grab a little black wallet thing. "Hold on I want to see if I'm right real quick. What's on this paper?"

"Um, It's blank?" I don't think I was catching whatever the silly man wanted me to see.

"You are clever! I knew it! And I do need a companion after...." The Doctor pauses in sorrow and pain.

"Y/N, how would you like to come with me?"

"Um, do you travel or something?"

"Oh, I forgot to mention it, haven't I? I go to lots and lots of different places and meet all sorts of aliens all the time. I hope you know most of them aren't like the Daleks. Millions of planets and galaxys and pulsars and planets up in the sky, one day I'll see them all."

It took a while to comprehend what silly man had just said. You adored the stars. And now this man you'd just met had really just asked you to go with him to see and go to places humans wouldn't go for maybe billions of years!? To boldy go were no one has gone before? (I'm an unapologetically ing references and I'm not sorry.) Was this heaven? Had you died in the Dalek attack?

"That sounds utterly fantastic! You're sure you want someone like me?"

"What are you talking about? You just saved my life and were fearless in the face of a world ending threat. If course I want someone like you."

"I just, usually people don't like the way I think."

The Doctor almost seemed offended. "Do I look like a usual person?"

"Good point."

I looked down in slight embarrassment for bringing it up.

"Hey look at me." The Doctor softly grabbed my shoulder and I tilted my face up to meet his sincere eyes.

"You know what I've found in my nine hundred years of life? I found out the people who get called Quiet or shy have the most interesting thoughts. I found out that the loneliest people end up being the kindest, that the people with disabilities have so much more grit and determination than the people that don't, that the people called slow are the most brilliant when they're done analyzing. that the so called freaks and weirdos of the world are twice as clever and twice as kind."

"Do you know why?" I was near tears and shook my head.

"Because people like you and me have to work twice as hard only to get half as far. We have strength, far beyond that the average eye can see because we're trying to make up for faults by working twice as hard. Our struggles make us more resilient, more creative, and better people. We take it apon ourselves to attempt to appear normal in an attempt to make connections, when in really they should be the ones understanding us."

"You humans are so silly we it comes to different ways of thinking. On gallifrey, you'd be celebrated, not punished for what you call a quote 'disorder'."

I hugged him. I hugged him harder and tighter than any stranger I'd ever hugged before.

Tears. Happy tears flew down my cheek. I loved this stranger, not for his looks or wacky demeanor.

But because there is that silly man's arms I knew again what it felt like to be understood.

We were standing in a world of unknowns, at top a street that had just been invaded but I knew one thing:

"I want to travel with you, Doctor."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I'm sorry if you personally don't feel represented in the way I wrote (Y/N) having ADHD and ADD, but I want you to know that I'm only trying to share my experiences as I myself have been diagnosed. I don't want to shame anyone that shares my experiences; just bring them into the light.

[julesdaydreams]

@wolfstarmicrofic I april prompt 4: Airport AU I word count: 996

Remus came to a screeching halt at the gate, huffing from having run through the airport.

Usually, Remus prided himself in his ability to be on time. Today though, everything went wrong the moment he woke up in his hotel room, causing him now to stand sweating in front of an empty gate.

“You're too late, mate. Plane left like… ten minutes ago? They just told me.”, came a smooth voice from behind him and Remus turned around to come face to face with silver eyes looking up at him.

The man belonging to them was pretty. The kind of pretty that Remus wanted to write in one of his books about. Long black waves framing his pale face, high cheek bones, lips that Remus wanted to study the shape of, trace them with his tongue, map them out with his teeth-

And fuck. Remus really shouldn't be thinking such things about a stranger. He shouldn't be thinking such things at all considering that he was about to get married tomorrow.

“Cat got your tongue?”, the stranger said and Remus was ripped from his thoughts, blinking himself out of his trance and focusing back to the man's face smirking at him as if he knew exactly the type of thoughts Remus was having.

“Shit, sorry. That's just… really fucking inconvenient.”, he said, unsure of why he was engaging in a conversation at all, when he should do anything in his power to get on the next plane to London.

“Well, same here. Unfortunately the next plane doesn't go until tomorrow at ten, so we're in for a long night.”

And that? That was absolutely fucking grand. Trust Remus to manage to be on time for the stupidest things but not make it to his own wedding.

“Fucking hell. Marc will kill me.”, he couldn't help but blurt out, walking the few steps over to some chairs and slumping down in one of them with a deep sigh.

“Who is Marc?”, came the voice again and Remus looked up at the stranger who had sat down in the chair next to Remus.

“My fiancé. We're supposed to get married tomorrow. He was already annoyed because I had this book reading yesterday and had to leave the country just a few days before the wedding and if I tell him that I won't be back in time… let's just say I'm not sure I'll have a fiancé to marry anymore tomorrow.”

He winced at the thought, feeling guilty about the whole thing and he hadn't even called Marc yet. He really should get to that…

“Hmm, that sucks. But I'm sure if he loves you, he'll understand. Sure, he won't be happy about it, but you can always postbone the wedding?”, Sirius said kindly, giving him a small smile that should've made Remus feel better but didn't really do that much.

“Yeah… totally. Sorry, I'll call him real quick.”, he said half-heartedly before standing up and walking a few steps to give himself some privacy.

He dialled his fiancé's phone number and Marc was on the line instantly.

“Remus? What's wrong, shouldn't you be on the plane by now?”, came a worried voice and Remus wanted to kick himself to cause it.

“Hey, yeah, sorry. Uhm… listen I didn't catch my flight, there were these problems the whole day and…”, Remus began to explain the situation and the next twenty minutes where spent on the phone with a very angry Marc, calling him all kinds of names and cursing at how stupid Remus' book thing was in the first place and how he should've just stayed at home. The call ended with a gruffly said “Don't expect me to wait for you at the altar”, and Remus was left staring dumbly at his phone screen, feeling like the worst human being on the planet.

He turned around and his eyes snapped back to the stranger who was still sitting in the same place he had before, looking at Remus with a slight frown that told him that he heard the whole thing.

He sighed before walking back to his seat, slumping down with a sigh for the second time in the last hour.

“He sounds like a dick.”, came the stranger's voice and Remus’ eyes snapped towards silver ones that looked displeased.

“What? No, he isn't. If anyone is a dick, it's me! I can't even be there for my own wedding!”, Remus exclaimed. He felt the need to defend Marc. Clearly, Remus was the one who had fucked up and it was only natural to be angry at that.

“Yeah, sure. But that's no reason to call you all those nasty things. It's not like you planned on missing your plane, did you? From what I've heard it sounds more like the universe did everything in it's power to make sure you wouldn't get on that plane in time to marry him tomorrow.’

Remus didn't know what to respond to that, but whether Marc's reaction was justified or not really didn't matter anymore.

“Either way. It definitely sounded like he was done so… I guess I don't have a wedding to get to after all.”, he sighed, thinking about how disappointed his mother would be when he told her.

“You never know, maybe it's for the better.”, answered the man and Remus was about to call him out on the sad attempt of making him feel better, but something in the silver of his eyes made him come up short.

“Yeah, maybe.”, he said dumbly, voice soft for some unknown reason.

The man gave him a bright smile before extending his hand.

“I'm Sirius, by the way.”

Remus took it.

“Remus, nice to meet you.”

[amazingmsme]

A Little Closer

AN: a day late, but I’m trying to catch up. Decided last minute to change today’s yesterday’s prompt cause I’m desperate for more boz content! Just some wholesome father son bonding because we were honestly robbed. Hope y’all enjoy!

Zeus was anxious for what lay ahead. He had no doubt that his son was a capable fighter; he'd proven himself as such time and time again. But what they were going up against scared even him. Yet, what he was most afraid of, was losing his son before he had the chance to know him. Really know him.

And so he pushed him, probably harder than he should have, if he were being honest. He wasn't blind to Heron's fury, nor his contempt towards him, but Zeus couldn't bring himself care about that. Not now. Not when Heron's life was on the line.

He could sense his son's growing frustrations. A losing streak on the training field never felt good, but it was especially anxiety inducing when you're painfully aware of an important battle looming on the horizon.

Heron needed a break to rest his body and clear his mind. He'll improve drastically after a nap and a quick bite to eat, but his helpful suggestions went ignored. Zeus knew he was tired- exhausted even. He remembered back when Athena and Ares would train like this. He smiled at the fond memory. The only way to get them to stop had been...

Zeus looked down at Heron on the field, teeth clenched in a mixture of determination and pain. When he closed his eyes, he saw Heron relaxed; shoulders slack with a warm, genuine smile.

Zeus didn't want Heron's only fond memories of him to be ssssswhen he was disguised.

"Heron, why don't you come here for a second? I think I know something that might help," he called out, hiding his mischief behind a sliver of truth.

"Okay, what is it?" he asked as he approached.

"I can't just tell you! You gotta come here," Zeus instructed. Heron rolled his eyes, but complied.

“This better be good.”

"It is, I promise. Ares and Athena themselves trained using this very method." He noticed the way Heron perked up as he spoke. "It's something I taught them, and hope to teach you now."

"Really?" Heron tried to mask his excitement before doubt crept in. "But... what if I'm not as good as they are?"

"Nonsense, you're a natural!" he encouraged by slinging an arm around his shoulders, jostling him playfully. "Just do what I say, alright?" He nodded, waiting expectantly.

“Alright now, close your eyes,” he instructed, and Heron did so. “Good. Take a deep breath in and hold it. Reach your arms toward the sun, really feel the stretch,” he advised, slowly walking around behind him.

“Can I breathe now?” Heron asked, voice strained.

“Oh! Yes, you can breathe,” he chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. “Slowly exhale, and release all the tension in your body.”

“What’s the point of this, exactly?” Heron questioned, clearly annoyed and skeptical of the seemingly pointless exercise.

“The point is to learn to relax and ground yourself,” he said gently.

“How the hell am I supposed to do that? I’m nowhere near ready, and I’m sorry, but breathing and stretching isn’t gonna stop the giants!” he yelled, and Zeus could hear the underlying panic lacing his voice. He sighed, subconsciously agreeing with him.

“You don’t think I know that? Heron, I just want you to take care of yourself. Listen to your body and take a break when you need to.”

“I don’t need a break,” he insisted, fixing him with a harsh glare. Zeus only smiled with a wistful sigh.

“That’s what Ares and Athena used to say. And you wanna know what I told them?”

“What?”

“Come a little closer, and I’ll tell you. It’s a secret.” Heron shook his head, but did as he was told. “Little closer.” He rolled his eyes, taking another step to close the gap. Zeus threw a large arm around his smaller frame, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

Heron swore he wasn’t even saying real words. Heron scrunched his face as he tried to listen, cupping his ear as he leaned in. “Huh?”

“Gotcha!”

Heron screamed in shock when he felt himself lift off the ground in a crushing hug. He felt fingers dig into his sides and he bit back a giggly yelp.

“You and your siblings are all the same. Too stubborn to take a break unless someone makes you,” he teased, flashing a bright smile. Heron couldn’t bear to look and turned away, desperate to hide his own giddy grin.

“Y-you trihihicked mehehe!”

“I did no such thing! I really did used to do this with Athena and Ares!”

“You sahahaid ihit would hehehelp!” he cried, weakly shoving against the arms wrapped around his waist.

“Laughter always helps!” he reasoned as he scratched up his ribs, earning a snort. “Heh, sounds like you inherited your old man’s laugh,” he reached up to ruffle his hair. A dark blush spread across Heron’s cheeks as he struggled in his hold.

His hands crawled higher and a loud shriek filled the air as Heron thrashed around in his grip. “Noho! Not thehehere, plehehease!” he begged through bubbly giggles, holding one hand at bay with both of his. Zeus attacked his other side and he immediately crumbled, allowing the other hand to reach its target.

“Not where? Oh, you mean here?” he asked, feigning ignorance as he shoved his hands under his arms. Heron howled with laughter, pressing his arms against his sides and kicking the air uselessly. “Yeah, that does seem like a bad spot,” he mused, deciding to make matters worse and drill his thumbs in his hollows, drawing slow circles.

Heron was wheezing and cackling, using one hand to muffle his voice and the other to fend off the invading hands.

“Knohohock ihit ohohoff alreadyyy!” he whined, kicking in time with his giggles. Zeus couldn’t imagine a cuter sight.

“I suppose I could…” he trailed off in thought, drumming his fingers against Heron’s sides to keep him squirming. “If you promise to take a break from training. Just for a few hours to let yourself rest, then you can get right back to it,” he bargained. And, well, Heron wasn’t really in a position to negotiate.

“Fihihine! I’ll tahahake aha stupid break!” he cried out through his hysterics. Zeus wore a proud smirk, vibrating a clawed hand over his belly, allowing just the smallest amount of electricity to flow through his fingertips as he did so. Heron threw his head back, cackling wildly as he curled into a protective, twitchy ball of nerves.

“There, was that so hard?”

True to his word, Zeus relented after that. He set him back on the ground once he was sure Heron had found his footing, ruffling his hair one last time. Heron huffed out a residual chuckle and smacked the hand away, light enough to let him know he didn’t really mind.

“Well, you didn’t make it easy, that’s for sure,” he sassed, not bothering to hide the lingering smile still gracing his features.

“Ha! Only because I know you can take it,” he joked, punching his son in the shoulder before pulling him into a side hug, shaking him lightly.

“How thoughtful,” he teased back, feeling more relaxed.

Zeus wore a soft, fond expression. “Get some rest son. You’ve earned it.” Heron stood a little taller, his smile more authentic.

“Thanks, I will… Dad.”

Every day, the looming battle grew a little closer. But so did they.

[vaya-writes]

I'll give you a prompt. You are in a dungeon and one day you wake up and there is no one else around. No guards, no prisoners, save for yourself and your cellmate. But they have a dark dangerous look to in their eyes that they didn't before.

Thanks for the prompt! Here's a little drabble, eight months later.

TW: body horror, vore that's not meant to be sexy, off screen gore

There may have been Things in the lead up to tonight that you overlooked. Your cellmate stops eating. There’s less noise from your neighbours. The flickering torchlight doesn’t seem to reach the corners of your cell anymore. A new, strange and off-putting smell seems to permeate through the dungeon.  

But the first difference that you truly notice is the lack of guards. 

Your stomach rumbles when you wake in the morning. Breakfast is late.  

Usually you’re woken to the sound of a club dragging along the bars of your cell. A clanging that reverberates through your skull and hurts your ears. The splatter of food on the stone floor as a tray is shoved haphazardly beneath the bars.  

Today you wake to silence.  

Your cellmate is relaxed. They sit cross legged, across from you, eyes trained unerringly on your face. 

You wonder if they ate your breakfast. You cast your eyes around the room but see no tray. No sign of their guilt. 

The torches in the hall are instead, almost burnt out. Nobody has been by to replace them. And the cell across from yours sits empty, where yesterday there’d been a handful of drunkards sobering up. 

Most unusual (most unnerving) is the lack of guards. There’s at least two, normally. Leaning against a wall, or patrolling the hall. Engaging in small talk to stay awake, or occasionally even playing cards at the other end of the dungeon. 

Without breakfast there’s no reason to wake. Nothing to do, except ignore the stares of your cellmate. So, you pull up the blanket, and go back to sleep. 

You wake up at the guard change. Just after lunch, and still no meals have been delivered. As a prisoner you’re grateful to be given food and water at all, but it’s still most unusual for you to go without.  

Curled up on your mattress, facing the wall, you note the bootsteps. The first you’ve heard today. A soft oath. 

“Where’s the morning shift?” 

Your cellmate replies, voice low and smooth – with none of its usual rasp.  

“They left early. Had somewhere to be.” 

Your brow crinkles, because that’s an outright lie. They didn’t even show today, as far as you’re aware. 

Another curse.  

“Go report to the captain, kid. There should always be someone on post. Come back when you’re done, I’ll watch this lot.” 

Bootsteps again, lighter this time, scuffing the stone as one of the guards leave. 

“And you, back it up. Keep away from the bars.” 

There’s a silence. You itch to roll over and watch the confrontation, but the hair rising on the back of your neck tells you to hold still. That something isn’t right. 

“Are you deaf? I said mov-” 

The words cut off in a strangled gurgle.  

And then there’s a scream. 

There are more noises.  A metallic and heavy thud. Choking. Gasping. Wet, and high pitched. Boots dragging and kicking against stone.  

And then what starts out as the sound of scuffle gets worse. Visceral. Sounds of wet tearing, of some kind of loud and unmissable cracking. Noises so disturbing that you can’t for the life of you visualise what’s happening just a dozen paces away from your unguarded back. 

You’re stiff with terror, but when the ghastly popping starts, you just have to know what the fuck is going on. 

And though you need to look (look, just fucking look) it still takes a monumental effort to turn your head. To crane your neck and peek over your shoulder. 

The angle makes it harder to figure out what you’re seeing.  

Your cell is empty. Your companion gone. And just beyond the wall of bars stands... something. Something large and malleable, with skin that stretches like elastic and limbs and joints that aren’t doing what a person’s limbs and joints should do. 

And the guard is- 

Well, the guard is only half visible. 

Because the creature has its maw halfway down his torso. 

Its maw –  

-mouths don’t do that. You’ve never seen a snake eat its prey, but this has to be something similar. Some dislocation of its jaw bones, some splitting apart at the chin. And it’s teeth. Why does it even need teeth, with how it swallows your jailor with a single gulp? 

What the fuck is happening? 

You twist your shoulders, your neck further, you need to (scream- need to hide, to get away to cower-) you need to know what is happening, need to make sense of the scene. 

The creature is larger now. It has to be, to fit a fully grown human inside. Its stomach is distended beyond human proportion. Bulbous and sickening, its torso stretches to accommodate the meal. 

The maw closes. Its jaw regains a regular shape. There’re no more sounds of struggle. Just a slow shuffle as the monster waddles – it’s too full, too fucking shaped to walk like a person – towards you. 

It doesn’t look your direction. But it’s your cell that it pushes its head into. Pressing its skull against the bars, pulling the skin taut and rearranging the fats in its face until with an awful sound it slips (slips is too smooth a word, not with the way skin is grazed from its face, smearing dark blood across its cheeks and the sides of its forehead) its head into your cell. 

Then it moves. 

You know that thing that some animals can do, where if they get their head through a hole, the rest of their body can follow because of their cartilaginous frame? 

It does that.  

Your blood feels like it’s curdling. Your stomach is knotted with terror. You- fuck. You wet yourself. 

A grown ass person shouldn’t be able to do this. Its body moves in a way that a body shouldn’t. There’re more popping noises. More rough scraping of flesh against rusted bars. More smearing of darkened blood. And it goes on and on and on, sliding its distended mass into a pooling shape at the front wall of your cell. 

And then it’s inside. 

It pauses. Reshapes itself from the puddle, looming tall and pants-shittingly large once more. And then it ripples.  

Skin begins to tighten, and shrink. Joints begin to pop and twist. Bones groan and shorten. The horrifying paunch that houses a corpse (gods you hope he’s a corpse by now) flattens back to regular proportions. Until it starts to resemble a regular person again. 

A person you recognise. 

You want nothing more than to roll over and pretend you hadn’t seen... it. To go back to sleep and pray that this is just a nightmare. A hallucination. 

But your cellmate is looking directly at you, and there’s no hiding what you’ve just witnessed. 

They smile and you want to vomit. To cry. But you just lay there. Witless and frozen as they cross the room and crouch in front of you.  

There’s a grubby little blanket at the base of your mattress. Your cellmate pulls it up over your shoulders and tucks it in against your arms. 

That serene smile is still on their lips as they pat you on the head. Ruffle your hair.  

“Go back to sleep, baby.” 

[yourheartonfire]

You are an ancient, sentient cursed sword known for corrupting even the most valiant and well-intentioned of heroes. However, you cannot corrupt the most recent hero whose hands you have fallen into - not because of their purity of heart, but because of their incorruptible cynicism.

Prompt courtesy of @writing-prompt-s

The Wielder was silent - too silent - during the planning meeting. So Gleamsteel held its thoughts to itself too, and was not surprised at the council's close when the Wielder walked off not to dinner at the campfire but to an empty grove where they drew Gleamsteel and opened their mind willingly.

I need your help, the Wielder thought, stepping smoothly through the first practice sequence. We can break through the tower defense, but once we do there's no way we can stop the sorcerer's ritual and save the princess. Am I wrong?

Gleamsteel thrummed. It's a one in a million shot... it ventured.

The Wielder didn't laugh out loud, but Gleamsteel could hear the tired scoff down their mystical connection. That's what I thought. Okay. They shifted into the second form. Okay. The princess has to die, and it has to look unequivocally like the sorcerer's fault.

Holy shit, Gleamsteel articulated before it could stop itself.

This time the Wielder did sigh out loud. It's not personal. I feel bad for her. I'd save her if we could. But she's just one person, and if that ritual goes off everyone in seven leagues dies. They cut downwards with extra venom. That's not a balanced risk, not for someone just because they have sentimental, maybe symbolic value to the king.

Hm. Gleamsteel pushed its tendrils towards that disgust. Such a selfish order, to put countless other sons and daughters at risk to save his own -

Knock it off. The Wielder straightened out of their form, swishing Gleamsteel's tip down into the dry dust. I told you I don't want to be king and I don't want to be a king maker. Stop with the creepy whispers or it's right into the bin with you when this is down.

Then what do you want?, Gleamsteel snapped. You don't want fame -

Crowd loves to see yesterday's hero fall, the Wielder said, spinning the sword in their hand and slicing through a theoretical foe.

You don't want power -

Ugh. What would I do with it? Make things worse?

You want wealth? Riches?

The Wielder ended the sequence not with a flourish, but with a perfectly controlled thrust. You know my terms. I want my due, and I want to walk away alive. You help me and I'll help you get into the hands of someone more, ah, amenable. Isn't that what you want?

Gleamsteel simmered with rage. How are you... Why won't you let me help you? You must want something!

Momma always said look out for them insisting on giving you something for free. The Wielder stuck Gleamsteel into the soft grass under an oak tree, picked up their flask of water and drank deeply. 'Cause that only means they're hiding the cost until its too late.

If Gleamsteel had lungs and teeth it would've snarled.

Stay focused here. The Wielder crouched beside the blade. Tower. Defense. Princess. Ritual.

"Chosen One?" Came an uncertain voice. "You all right?"

The Wielder stood swiftly, seized their sword and sheathed it, giving a reassuring nod to their companion. "Clearing my head. Big day tomorrow, eh?"

"Indeed," the companion said, clearly relieved to be in the Wielder's presence. But Gleamsteel felt their eyes cut to the hilt, felt the threads of doubt and the hunger to be chosen themselves...

That one, Gleamsteel whispered to the Wielder. I'll get you through tomorrow and you'll give me to this one as my next Wielder.

Done, the Wielder said immediately and clapped their friend on the shoulder to go with them to dinner.

[massivedrickhead]

33. "Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed, for that matter."

I went a touch angsty with this one again, but nothing too heavy.

As it stands, this is the last prompt I have to do from the list, so I can't promise there'll be anymore daily updates. There's one more in my inbox, but I can't really think of anything to do with it.

So if you want to send a prompt from the list, now's your chance 🥰

If this is my last one, I want to send a massive thank you to everyone who's sent me a prompt over the last two weeks, and to everyone who has commented, reblogged, and liked.

33. ��Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night.  Or if you went to bed, for that matter.”

Prompt taken from here

Read on AO3

-

“Look me in the eyes and tell me what time you went to bed last night. Or if you went to bed, for that matter.”

Beca breathed out through her nose and crossed her arms across her chest. She didn't answer Chloe, and her eyes remained fixed on the ground.

Her silence was the only answer Chloe needed.

“Okay, how about the last time you ate a decent meal? Or drank something other than coffee?”

Beca finally looked up, and Chloe could tell she was biting the inside of her mouth. “I have to go to work,” she said. 

She tried to turn and walk away, but Chloe took hold of her arm. “Beca, I’m not done talking about this.”

“I don’t have time for this right now,” Beca said. “I’m late.”

“You never have time,” Chloe said, following Beca down the hall. “Beca, I can’t keep doing this.”

It felt like something sharp stabbed Beca in her stomach at the sound of those words. It travelled up to her chest, took hold of her heart and squeezed.

When she looked at Chloe she could see tears in her eyes. Not for the first time, she wondered how they got here. How she let it get this bad. 

Beca opened her mouth to say something but the anxiety crawling up from her chest had now robbed her of words. 

When Chloe realised she wasn’t going to get an answer, she spoke again. 

“I need you to take this seriously, Beca. I need you to take me seriously. If you aren’t home by six tonight, ready to talk to me then…” Chloe swallowed, and it took everything she had not to cry. “Then I’ll be at Aubrey’s, and I’ll arrange for someone to come and get the rest of my stuff.”

Beca felt like her whole world was ending as Chloe turned and walked away, but she still couldn’t seem to say anything. 

She knew she needed to go to her. She needed to beg for forgiveness and promise to do better. She needed to do something because she was about to lose the best thing that ever happened to her. 

But she couldn’t. She couldn’t speak. She couldn’t do anything except what she’s best at, and that’s running away. 

She pulled her jacket off the hook by the door, and she went to work. 

-

“It’s all hands on deck for the rest of the week,” Beca’s boss said during their morning team meeting. “I suggest you cancel any plans you have tonight, we need everyone here. If you have to eat, do it quickly and do it at your desk. It’s crunch time, and if you still want a job when this is over, I need you to pull your weight! Let’s get to work, people!” He clapped his hands to signal that the meeting is over, and the team started filing out of the room. 

Beca hung back, waiting for the last person to leave the room. 

“Mitchell, is there a reason you aren’t scurrying back to your computer right now? I need those tracks by, like, yesterday.”

“I, um, I need a favour,” Beca said.

He looked down at his watch. “You’ve got thirty seconds, I need to be on the phone with Tokyo in two minutes.”

“I need to leave early tonight, I-”

“No,” he said. “Anything else?”

“Seriously?” Beca asked.

“What part of all hands didn’t you understand?”

“Look, I haven’t had a day off in weeks. Chloe and I are having problems, and I need-”

“Who?”

“My fiancé,” Beca said, trying not to sound angry. 

He let out a snort of laughter and started walking out of the conference room. “Do yourself a favour, and cancel that wedding.”

“If I’m not home tonight then she’s going to do that all by herself,” Beca said, chasing after him. 

“Good,” he said. “Less distractions, more work, and before you know it you’ll be the one with the album on the shelves.”

Beca stopped walking and he turned when he realised she wasn’t tailing him anymore. 

“You knew the gig when you signed up for it, Mitchell,” he said. “You wanna live your dream, this is the cost. And Chloe either gets it or she doesn’t, and it sounds to me like she doesn’t. Now, are you in or are you out?”

-

Back in their apartment, Chloe was trying to stop crying for long enough to be able to pack her bag. 

She couldn’t believe it had come to this. She couldn’t believe she was even considering it. 

Beca was the love of her life, she loved her more than she’d ever thought possible, but she meant what she said when she said she couldn’t do this anymore. 

She couldn’t carry on watching the woman she loved slowly kill herself for a career that wouldn’t even notice she was gone. 

Leaving Beca was the last thing she ever thought she’d do - the last thing she ever wanted to do - but she was just so tired. Tired of the empty promises, of dinners that were thrown away uneaten, of waking up alone in the middle of the night.

She was just plain tired. 

She sat down on the bed, her bag still empty, clothes sitting in a neat pile beside it. She couldn’t bring herself to do it. Not yet. 

She checked her phone.

Beca still had seven hours to prove her wrong. To come home and fight for her. 

She curled up on the bed, her back to Beca’s side, and she carried on crying until she fell asleep.

-

She didn’t feel like she’d been asleep long when she was woken up by the feeling of the bed dipping behind her. 

She heard the rustling of sheets and then felt a hand settle on her hip.

The person behind her pressed a kiss on her shoulder before their forehead came to rest against it. She heard them take a shuddering breath and hold it before letting out a shaky exhale. 

Chloe was too afraid to turn around because she didn’t want this to be a dream. 

“What time is it?” She asked, eventually. 

“Almost midday,” Beca replied, her voice rough and heavy. 

Chloe swallowed, but she didn’t turn. 

“You left work early,” she said. 

She heard Beca take another deep shaky breath. “I quit.”

Chloe sat up quickly and looked down at Beca. “You what?”

“I quit,” Beca repeated. 

“Bec, this was your dream job. I never meant for you to give it up, I just wanted you home more. I wanted you to take care of yourself,” Chloe said, guilt pooling in her stomach. 

“And they weren’t willing to let me do that,” Beca said, sitting up too. “If my dream job comes at the cost of everything else in my life, including you and my health, then it isn’t a dream worth chasing.” Beca shook her head. “He would have let me work myself to the bone, and then replaced me in a flash as soon as I burned out.” 

“Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to resent me down the line because you think I forced an ultimatum on you.”

“I’d never resent you,” Beca said. “I’m so sorry for these past few months. I’m so sorry I drove you to this point. I… I love you. I love you so much.”

Tears were filling her eyes again, and Chloe couldn’t stop herself from pulling Beca into her arms. 

“Please don’t leave,” Beca said, sobbing into Chloe’s chest as she clung to her with everything she had.

“I’m not leaving,” Chloe said, without any trace of doubt in her mind that she was making the right decision.  

“I’ll do better,” Beca said. “I promise. And I’ll get another job as soon as I can.”

Chloe ended their hug and cupped Beca’s face in her hands. Her thumbs swept away the tears on her cheeks. 

“We have enough saved up that you can afford to take time off. What I need is for you to take care of yourself,” Chloe said. “That means sleeping properly, eating properly, and drinking water. And I need you to be open with me when you’re struggling. Because I can’t help you when you shut me out.”

“I know,” Beca said. “I promise.”

Chloe looked into her eyes and she knew that she meant it. She pulled Beca back into her arms again. 

“I‘ll let Aubrey know I’m not coming,” she said, feeling Beca deflate with relief in her arms. 

“I can’t believe I almost lost you,” Beca said. “I’m never letting that happen again.”

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, until they eventually lay down together. 

“I’m guessing you didn’t have lunch today?” Chloe asked, her eyes threatening to close now that the tension had gone from her whole body. 

“Too busy quitting,” Beca mumbled. “Nap first,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Food second.”

“I can live with that.”

They weren’t out of the woods yet.

There was still a lot to talk about. A lot to work through.

But Beca was home. She was sleeping wrapped up in Chloe’s arms and, for now, that was enough for both of them.

[in3rci4]

Can I Get An Angst With All The Boys, Basically They Never Believed The Reader, And They Get In An Argument Because They Thought Reader Drew Over Gwen's Homework ( I Saw It On TikTok ), And Basically In The End Moose Confesses It Was Him, But It's Too Late, After The Reader Said : " I'd Rather Get Kidnapped By The Grabber, Then Stay With You Assholes, You Think Everything's My Fault ", Reader Gets Kidnapped, And Like I Said, Moose Confesses, But It's Too Late, And They Regret It But It's Too Late? Sorry IF It's Too Much To Ask, You Don't Have To Do It If You Don't Want To, But I've Never Seen Someone Do That, So I Would Love What You Comes Up With ❤️❤️

Jsjskskdkdkk this is gonna be interestingly hard to do , but I appreciate that you trust my writing and sent your request , i really needed so I don't slow back 😭🫶

" IF I ONLY I KNEW , THE LAST TIME WOULD BE DIFFERENT "

PROMPT : Reader is confronted by the The Black Phone boys about something they didn't do , and that would be the last time reader would be seen alive before getting kidnapped killed by The Grabber

Characters included : Finney Blake , Gwendolyn Blake , mention of Susan / Suzanne { Gwendolyn's friend } Bruce Yamada , Amy Yamada , Robin Arellano , mention of the two jackass dudes on Gwen's vision about Vance , Vance hopper , Griffin Stagg , Billy Showalter , Buzz , Matt , Patt , Moose ( idk his last name )

Author's note : I'm really sorry if this isn't what you wanted , but I believed that in some cases it would be practical or better to write in different yet similar situations excluding Gwen's direct participation or writing the exact phrase you told me and changing it instead for every character, hope you like it anyway , I really enjoyed writing this 👍✨

WARNINGS ! : ANGST , DOMESTIC VIOLENCE , MENTION OF KIDNAPPING , DEATH , MINOR ABDUCTION , LONG ASS HEADCANONS , BULLYING , UNFAIR SITUATIONSHIP , RACISM , SLUT / FAT SHAMING , EATING DISORDER ¿? , THREATENING , ANIMAL ABUSE / DEATH , GAS LIGHTING ¿? MANIPULATION ¿? HOMOPHOBIA , MENTION OF SUICIDE , NO USE OF Y/N , PLATONIC / GENDER NEUTRAL READER , POSSIBLE SPELLING MISTAKES , VIOLENCE , BLOOD , ETC

FINNEY BLAKE

His little sister is someone that will share everything with him , her celebrity crushes , her latest gossip , her favorite new book , etc , and he would listen everytime even if he didn't care that much about it

But Finney noticed that she was more quiet lately , but Gwenny would always say she was tired , and that's it .

Until one day she confessed his older brother that she had some of her notebooks pages scratched , tore apart and with really awful drawings and messages , some really gruesome to describe a little girl . Finney was of course mad , because did not only Gwen hide something from him , but there's someone messing with his sister that he knows she didn't mess with first

Gwen defended herself saying that she was trying to find who did it but she couldn't do it , until yesterday , when she asked her classmates once again who did it and they said that someone older enter her classroom when her backpack was still there

Suzanne , her best friend , added new information about the situation : She saw you entering to her classroom with color papers rolled up

He knew you from the mathematics class , so when he saw you escaping trough the empty hallways , he followed you , and decided to confront you

" Stop it , I need to talk with you "

You turned around and saw him grabbing tight his backpack shoulder strap

" You need to stop doing those things to my sister , she's only a 6th grader and didn't do anything to you , it's not ok to draw those disgusting things and write that stuff on Gwen's notebooks , you're older than her , you should know that "

On Finney's perspective , he was in front of a kid of his same age that has been bothering his sister not only in a anonymously way , but in a constant way too , trying , no , decided , to make them back off from her

But in your perspective , you woke up and didn't have the opportunity to eat even an apple as a breakfast because your parents started to bark at each other again and then you , when they couldn't find the keys of the car and saw you existing on your house

Who would guess that the only time you entered on a 6th grade classroom was to put some color papers for the kids by your art's teacher orders ?

You obviously got offended , and started to tell your version of the story , you were not only dealing with your family madness once again , but this too ?

When he saw you not backing off and not telling " the truth " he told you to stop playing the innocent / victim card and just accept what you " did"

You couldn't simple just pretend you didn't call slut shaming names to a child .

His insistence , the way he was talking , gas lighting you like your parents did before , triggered something in you that made you started to blurry your vision and just walk away when your tears started to fall down your face

Not exactly aware where you going , you walked away from school , and sat on the edge of the side walk hiding hour face in your arms and legs

That's when you heard a strange voice say

" Why's the river dear child ? Would magic make those tears disappear ? "

2 weeks after that encounter your missing person poster was all over the town .

One of those days once again , Gwen finds in her notebook a bad quality drawing of you dead with a speech bubble that had " It wasn't me" written on it

Finney was ready to walk home side by side with Gwen but she had a serious expression on her face this time , without saying nothing , she takes her notebook and shows the drawing of you to him

The siblings could never look at your photos again without feeling guilty , 3 days after you went missing the unholy trinity bastards of Buzz , Matt and Patt admitted the fault , making them feel stupid for not thinking about them as suspects of it in the first place

Specially Finney , who can't stop thinking that he was the last person that saw you alive , yet that time he made you cry , he made you go away

He was the one that has the fault for your gone , and he has to live with the feeling . All .His . Life .

BRUCE YAMADA

Coming back from chilling on a friend's house Bruce goes upstairs to change clothes on his bedroom but when he was on the hallway of the second floor he hears quiet sobs coming from his little sister's place

Confused , he puts his ear close the door to hear better and knocks at the girl's door , but there was no answer , she continued crying

Slowly , he opened the door of her bedroom , and found his little sister Amy sitting on the floor with her cheeks all wet from so many tears dropping from her eyes . Bruce had to admit that lately he and his sister weren't close like they used to , him being a teenager and stuff

But even then , he sat next to her and rubbed her back asking what happened and why she was so sad , he was expecting the reason to be a broken toy , a nightmare , a heartbroken from her playground crush , anything

Anything... Except that someone of his class was making fun of her and breaking her favorite school notebooks and pencils , the ones she cherished the most , and threatened her to stay quiet ... The little girl being too scared of even mentioning the names of the responsable... Or responsables...

" Don't worry Amy , I will make sure they stop bothering you , I promise "

The next day when the teacher sat down to look over some papers he asked permission to talk with everyone in the classroom about what happened , and find out who did it

" Y'all probably know I have a little sister , Amy , yesterday when I came back home she told me that someone in this class was mocking her in all possible ways and breaking her stuff like favorite notebook or color pencils . If you have a problem with me , I have all the time of the world to solve however you want to , i don't care , but messing with my sister and 6th grader kid ain't right , you're supposed to know better than that , unless y'all cowards that will stay silent and not tell me the truth in the face "

The teacher was too shocked to speak with the sudden serious attitude of the star student and the people sitting on their desks were unsure to speak or react since they didn't want to messed up more and makes things more difficult more than the situation already is

Until a girl said that he should go and tell the same exact thing to you , the " guilty " one , that has been gone the entire class after asking to go to the bathroom and probably knew he was going to find it out

You in the other hand were going about to have a breakdown and didn't want it to be around everybody that categorized you as the " ugly quiet kid " from the back of the classroom , you wanted some time alone , and went to the bathroom , where you cried over those horrible thoughts in your mind until your eyes were to dry to drop more tears

You washed your face and tried to compose yourself to not look " recently sad " and did your regular breathing exercise in these cases . Now done , you went outside the bathroom , and just in a few steps , you saw Bruce

You tried to give a closed lips smile to give the " I'm ok / friendly " facade , but he didn't return the gesture , he was in fact , not as happy and smiley as the usual Bruce , he was .... Different

" You should've know I would find it out sooner or later , when did I did something wrong to you ? What Amy's had to do with this ? Why involved her ? Why mess with her instead of just , I don't know man , tell ME those things ? "

You were confused and disoriented , you couldn't put the pieces together of why Bruce was being this harsh or what he was talking about , all you did was stare

" You're not gonna say something ? You have nothing to say after breaking her stuff , telling her to die , to stop eating and to leave the country where she was born ? To a innocent little girl instead someone of your age ?"

You tried to defend yourself but it was useless , the entire group blamed you to keep the spot away from them from being guilty and nothing could change Bruce's mind about it , after all , if you were innocent , why you went out of the class on the first place ?

You didn't have the energy to keep arguing or to stay while the principal or teacher called your parents and wait for the worse to happen , for something that you didn't do , so you walked out from school and decided to head straight to your best friend's house , your only safe place

But you never got there .

That night after the Yamada's were done eating dinner , Bruce knocked her sister's door , opened when he got Amy's permission and with a smile , he told her

" Hey Amy , I just wanted to tell you that I already told the bad person to stop bothering you and they promised to stop doing it , you don't have to worry anymore "

But the smile soon fade away when Amy's asked her older brother if he told the boyfriend of the girl to stop too

And then he realized what he done ... His mistake ....

That girl was his rival baseball team pitcher's girlfriend , and since they were afraid to put anything up with Bruce due his popularity , they came for Amy instead

He would ride his bike on the way to school hoping to see you again , to apologize and start over , but he never did , he never had the chance , only your missing posters like a painful reminder of who you were are .

ROBIN ARELLANO

He's used to be called all type of names , he's a dark skin hispanic boy living in the 70's after all , although he doesn't let himself be down for it anymore , and instead he learned to be proud of who he is

So when he would see racist slurs on his desks or papers with written messages on it on his backpack , he would only sigh because how tedious it was to clean those from his desk and sometimes laugh at the creativity of some insults

But the anonymous dutch bag didn't only stayed with him , oh no ...

Not surprised at all , it wasn't Finney who would admit having insulting messages written on papers that had a long list of homophobic slurs hided on his backpack , but Gwen , who told him what was going on with his friend

With a mixed feeling of anger and sadness , he only told his buddy that It'll be over as soon as he found who's the coward behind all this , and thanked the girl with candies

It was harder to find the fucker this time , no face , no voice , no nothing , except one thing , their hand writing

He may not be math's smart , but he's for sure an astute dude . When nobody was looking and the teachers were eating lunch , he entered the classroom and started to check one by one the hand writing of Finney's classmates , comparing them with the last " letter " that they left for him

Unlucky you , your hand writing was almost exactly like the one in the paper , and with your name already known , Robin was ready to clarify some stuff with you

On your way to school you heard someone calling your name , and by your surprise , the one calling you was the second toughest kid in school , and that caught the attention of other students walking on the streets . Walking towards you , calm yet with a serious expression Robin said

" You know my friend Finney , right ? Your classmate ? The one that has to deal with your bullshit every fucking day ?"

Oooooh's were heard from the kids and you honestly started to get scared because the situation felt unreal to you

" I'm getting tired of telling this over and over , you know ? Fuck with Finney again .."

He stops , just a few steps from you

" I'll fuck with you . Get it ?"

You couldn't just stay silent so you spoke your yourself

" Excuse me but I don't have any idea of what are you talking about "

For you he only nodded in silent after you talked , in the other hand , it was taking all of Robin's inner strength to not smack your face for pretending to be clueless about this

" Finney had to deal almost A MONTH with your paper shit that has your hand writing on it , so stop pretending you're innocent , cus you ain't "

You still couldn't believe what was going on , the whispers between the crowd that you didn't know when did it formed started to get louder , but your voice was still stucked in your chest that was pumping from the adrenaline

" Don't believe me ? I'll show you "

Suddenly your arm was grabbed and everyone gasped , Robin takes a paper from his Jean's pocket and shows you a paper that has the message " Better kill yourself like your mother did faggot trash " with yes , an identical copy of your hand writing , now how can you explain yourself at this ?

As soon as the young chorus started to scream for " Fight !" you feared the worst , so unintentionally your eyes started to water up and you plead to be left alone , that it was mistake , that it wasn't you

But he didn't believe you , instead , he started to shake you while keeping the paper close to your face

" If I ever saw your hand writing again on this shitty papers I'll make you read every fucking message you wrote after I beat the shit out of you in front of everybody in school , understood ?"

You tried to explain , you tried to make him understand that it wasn't you who did everything that he said

" I said , UNDERSTOOD !?"

Defeated , you nodded , and he let you go with a disgusted expression . Not being able to handle more eyes staring at you , you walked back to your home hoping your parents were still there and didn't went to work yet , so you could at least have a shoulder to cry on

But you never went back home .

1 week before Moose and Robin's fight and 3 after your disappearance another message was found on Finney's notebook

" your cocksucker friend got the wrong one fairy bitch"

Moose got what he deserved right after , but at what costs ?

You were gone , and everytime Robin walks in the street and sees your photo on the missing posters can't stop wondering why he didn't did the right thing and looked further instead of just blaming you

But nothing that he has to say would bring you back , ever .

BILLY SHOWALTER

Billy would focus only on paying attention in class , do his homework , study and repeated all over again , it was like that since he left the football team , and it wasn't bad either

He was on the middle ground between popular and invisible , and he was thankful for it , because he didn't have to deal with a lot of people or assholes that saw him as inferior to them

But everyone has to taste suffering once in their life , right ?

At first , in his desk he would find the usual vulgar drawings and slurs that were similar as the one written all over the men's bathroom walls . They were easy to erase , no big deal

Then the messages had his name on it , but he didn't felt like a personal attack to him , his name is a common name between boys , no panic

But the messages started to be written on his notebooks and school manuals , and those were harder to erase or ignore like the previous one

Billy was pissed , he didn't had the energy to deal with a bully and his school material ruined after working so hard in keeping it on shape , but his " consolation " was that the one doing this didn't even have the courage to show their face .

They were miserable people with free time on their hands that decided to make him their target , they must be really bored to choose him though . And nothing works better for these type of garbage than ignore them

The last part being ... half true .

When the insults got boring , repetitive and easily forgettable , the no name writer took a more serious turn , took the challenge of making him mad on their own hands

His concern grew up faster when the messages talked about jumping him in the hour of his paper news delivery , writing his house direction repeatedly and scary drawings of dead dogs

Now he couldn't let it slide . Not with his dog , not with his best friend , not with her . He needed to put a stop to this , needed to find who

He packed his stuff more slower this time watching over his shoulder wich classmates were faster to go and who stayed longer to leave

And you , he never noticed before , always were the last one to leave

He went to the cafeteria to buy a snack and time and went back to the classroom , he walked into the classroom and , oh surprise , you were there again

Billy didn't understand why you hated him so much , he doesn't mess with anybody on this god damn school , but now he doesn't have time to listen your reasons , now you will listen to him

" You better stop writing that shit on my notebooks and manuals or I will tell the teacher about your sick messages "

Confused , you tried to come back to reality after you zoned out for so long to understand the situation

" I'm sorry ? What messages ?"

He step closer but never too close to you , frustrated

" Oh come on man , you're the only one that stays after class in this place , the only one that takes a eternity to walk outside the classroom , I'm tired of your fucking bullshit ! I don't fuck with anybody or you in the matter , AND YET , I have to tolerate my notebook and manuals ruined because of you ! "

You tried to speak to clarify the situation but he interrupts you with a much louder voice , you never thought it was possible to see him like this

" I better not see you at the streets or I'll throw a god damn paper new on your face , less than anything to my dog , you better not touch my fucking dog or I'll do worse than that !"

Oh no .... A ... Dog ? .... Like .... The once you had but lost recently ?

Before Billy took his backpack from the chair , he looked at you one last time

" My parents and I work hard to get what I have , you know ? ..."

You felt sorry... This isn't your fault , it's so sad what he's telling you , but-

" I don't care if you insulted me or whatever , but don't fuck with animals , they can't defend themselves... So you better watch out what you do "

That left you with a bad taste in your mouth , someone wanted to hurt his pet , his companion in his daily life an mornings of delivering

School's over , you waited for your parents to pick you up while you were thinking of what Billy told you , you really needed to tell him tomorrow that you ain't the one he's looking for . You only stayed alone on the classroom because you were grieving by your own the death of your dog

But the day tomorrow never came for you .

The same day of your kidnapping , your classmates waited for Billy to throw rocks at him while he was riding his bike , he almost fell down , and Harper almost looses her eye for those bastards

When he came back home and his mother started to patch him up , he couldn't stop thinking that he barked at you for no reason , that he didn't even let you speak for yourself , how stupid he was for letting Harper be hurt by his incompetence

Seeing your photo on the paper news was like a kick on the stomach

" I'm sorry for what I said to you ... "

But it was just a piece of paper , while the real you was buried 3 feet under the ground of that man's basement .

GRIFFIN STAGG

Griffin at first was the perfect target for bullies . Kind , non confronting , quiet , a "weak " book worm that didn't anyone either to stand up for him . With time , the same bullies got bored of him , as if they were expecting a more dramatic reaction from him , but no , he would just let it happen , and that took the " fun " of bullying him they thought

And for for many years , he would be invisible for everybody , he told himself he liked being left alone and have his privacy , but deep down , it was the acceptance to the fact that he didn't have any friends , and nobody wanted befriend him neither , not like he felt he had a lot to offer

But at least he was in peace to study , eat and read whenever he wanted to . At least he has that .

Or well , he had .

He would found his backpack on the trash can , maybe a bully confused his backpack with another poor bastard ?

But It kept happening , so that was not a confusion anymore .

Sometimes his notebooks would be all scratched all over the pages until it was full black , some manuals of his had broken pages as well His mom better not find that out

Different from the past , he tried to make it stop this time . He tried everything , changing places where he kept his things , carrying his backpack whenever he could , even changing locker combination and writing them down on a secluded notebook

But no matter what he did , how he did it and when he did it , his backpack would always have a horrible surprise waiting for Griffin to see

It was almost like some poltergeist was messing with him at this point .

He was already frustrated from so many bullshit going on , but what sent him to the edge of explosion was that the book he got from the library , " The little prince " by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry , got dipped in presumptuously dirty toilet water , a book that he needed to return or else the librarian would not allow him to take books anymore

The moment he thrown the book away back into the trash he rushed into the bathroom and cried from anger . Griffin could only ask himself , why ? Why someone wanted to ruined his life so bad ? Why after so long jerks remembered his existence ? Why or why this is happening to him ?

The next day after he had P.E he saw you taking his backpack out of the trash , and since he had so much frustration accumulated inside him , instead of rationalizing you helping him , he saw you as the persecutor of his misery , blaming you without second thought

He grabbed his backpack with disgust and anger and looked at your other arm where you held your books .... And saw the name of his recently bought book " Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury "

" Hey , that's my book , give it back ! "

You put both of your arms in front of the two of the books , the story and the big grammar manual

" What !? no ! it's mine ! I was just trying to get the backpack out of the trash ! "

He dropped his backpack harshly , he was not having it

" Cut me some slack , will ya !? I only wanted to read and do my homework like a normal person in school and you had to make my life a living hell ! The librarian lady don't trust me anymore because of you ! Give me back what it's mine !"

You tried to protect the book with your arms but Griffin with all the strength his body was grabbing your arms and trying to open them , you were really struggling to keep fighting much longer

The moment you dropped the books he took as fast as a light switch the one he was looking for , but you didn't want him to go away with your favorite book , so you both started to pull harder to get it

But the book was teared apart as you both fall into the ground , you with only the half of the cover , and he with the broken book

" Look what you've done ! You ruined another book again ! "

Frustrated at the boy's attitude you got up from the ground and went after the teacher's to call your family because " you started to feel sick " , and lucky you , they were planning on taking you out for lunch

Your family noticed that you were more quiet than usual , but you only said you were tired ... Tired of regretting to help someone and get your stuff stolen so much

Outside the restaurant , you saw trough the window a puppy that started to look around and seemed lost , you tried to tell your family about it , but you couldn't see exactly where did they go

You went outside , it was just a one sec thing .

You called the puppy and put your hand close to it so they could smell you . The puppy started to cry and move it's paws , as soon as you started to pet it they started to lick your hand , tickling your skin and making you giggle

In one sec you got outside to pet that cute little puppy , and in one sec , the bad wolf , the so called The Grabber , took you away .

Griffin wanted to kick himself when he saw the same book that he broke inside his backpack , deciding to tell his mom once for all what was going on so she could help him buy a new version of the book and give it to you

2 days later , your missing posters were all over the school path , making the boy scared of how fast this Grabber was taking kids away , making the boy sad for having two copies of the same book because he didn't checked his backpack first

Later on lunch break he found his backpack once again in the trash , hearing a group of girls giggle behind him

He wishes to go back in time to make things different , but that's something that happens on books stories only .

VANCE HOPPER

There was no doubt Pin Ball Vance Hopper was the toughest kid in school , and he knew it , proud of his status that gives him the ultimate " Don't fuck with me " power

A lot of people had tried to take his title away , many wanted to have the privilege to say they defeated him , but the more time would pass , the more feared he was , because he would win again , and again , and again .

So that being said , nobody wanted to even look at him in the wrong way , walking on eggshells whenever he's around , and that's how he likes it or how he got used to

Now tell me , if everyone in the entire school knew to stay on their fucking places , why the fuck he had his pencils stolen and broken in two ?

Now , he wouldn't wait to find out who , oh hell no , he's not gonna tolerate that shit happening

He started to ask and grab by the shirt any poor idiot that looked at him more than 2 seconds when he demanded explanations , but they would always answer the same thing

" No please , don't hurt me !" " I'm sorry , I don't want any trouble ! " Chill man , I don't know what are you talking about !" " please stop you're hurting me ! " And bla , bla , bla , bla , bla

But it didn't only stayed on messing with his pencils , no , no , no , the motherfucker started to write his locker all over with threats and a colorful variation of insults

But nobody saw who did it , nobody saw nothing , nobody sees shit when you need it , and that made Vance even more cranky than he already was

The no name no face fucker pulled up a move that nobody has dared to do before , touch his drawing notebook .

He couldn't find it anywhere , students were scared for their lives even if they didn't even knew that thing existed when he started to shout like a furious demon , teachers couldn't calm down the problematic student or make him explain calmly the situation

And then he walked out from the class , from school , without saying anything else , only coming back the very next day with a crowbar to open himself every fucking locker until he founded his notebook .

Teachers yelled at him to stop terrified , students were on a distant circle shocked about what they were watching but too nervous to stay close to Vance Hopper with a possible weapon on his hands , you being part of that confused and scared crowd

He opened 9 , 10 , 11 lockers , and no signal of the only drawing notebook that he has , number 12 .... Your locker , it busted open , and it inside had a similar looking notebook of his . He grabbed the notebook , checked the pages , and he confirmed that he got back what he was looking for

But Vance needed an answer , now .

" Whose locker is this , huh !? WHOSE FUCKING LOCKER IS THIS !? WHO STOLE MY FUCKING NOTEBOOK !?"

By your surprise , the people got away from you and kept starting at you in a way of saying " This is the owner of the locker "

He dropped the crowbar and speed walked towards you , and since you knew you wouldn't be able to defend yourself in any way, you started to run away , and so did him

You felt your feet almost slipping away , his angry breathing and foot steps sounds behind you , along with the distant sounds of the students keeping the track to see your public execution

You don't remember how exactly you did it , but you lost him , and got away hiding behind the school block's back place

Tired and with your legs and lungs burning , you lay yourself to the wall and try to compose yourself , never acknowledging that you were on the school's block , yet outside on the street

With your eyes closed and a body that had already gave everything to escape before , it was easy for the bad man to kidnap you inside his van .

The school suspended Vance for a week , nothing new he would say , but this time the police was more rougher than before the time they came for him

The majority of the people thought that the young man Hopper had something to do with your disappearing , and the police did too , but he told them the truth , and said he didn't even knew you were gone if he was on his house all day and that was .... Half true

He saw your missing posters all over the neighborhood , but he didn't care that much , he kept living his life while trying to beat his damn high score , another kid was lost in the town , so what ? He's too strong to be kidnapped anyway .

The police set him free , and he went to the Grab n' Go once again

Inside , Mrs Ellen wasn't there , and his dear pin ball machine had .... Had a crack on the glass of it !?

He looked around to see if somebody was there as well , but nobody was on the sight

If The jungle queen machine could speak , it would cry over the graffitis they made over the tigers on the sides

" Motherfuckers .... "

Two familiar boys entered inside the mall , one with straight brown long hair and other with a black curly hair and a bandage on his right arm

" Remember us dip shit ? We told you were coming for you "

The two had a pocket knife and a thirst for vengeance , vengeance that they should have kept anonymous

Angry like a wild hungry animal , he fought the two kids with his bare hands until carving once again on their arms with those tiny ass knifes whatever shit would come to his mind as if the first time wasn't enough for them

The kids ran away trying to keep the balance on their step , but failed due how fucked up their faces were and the pain on their arms

Vance sat tired on the ground with his hands covered in blood . Him seeing those two dumb shits run remembered him the last time he saw you

We really ain't nothing in this life , isn't ?

He chased you for nothing , and God knows where the fuck you are now , probably dead , never able to see the sun again

The lady of the mall screams in fear to see the blond messy hair kid like that after getting out from the washroom

" ... I would say I'm sorry if I could or if you were still alive , but that wouldn't change shit . What it's done , it's done .... "

The junior Pin Ball wizard thought as he heard moments later the police siren coming for him .

[yuri-is-online]

Hello author!! I was the one who requested prompt 12 with riddle, jade, and jamil, and let me just say I absolutely loved it!! You wrote all of them so well, riddle and jamil's especially genuinely gave me butterflies in my stomach 😍😍. You said "feel free to message me with a separate request" since you already did riddle before my request, if I may request the same prompt with Ruggie instead? If not, feel free to ignore this!! No pressure!! Thank you so much for doing my request!! 💙💙

12. You had a wonderful time dancing and flirting with someone at the ball, only to find out from your friends the next day that was your crush. And you have no idea if they knew it was you they were dancing with.

Hi reader!! And I very much did mean you could ask for a second request, sorry this took so long to get out I had a minor brain break. I was worried I was running out of ideas for the Masquerade prompts but RUGGIE- I wanted to write for him so bad after I got his card from GloMas. I didn't expect him to get so excited for such a posh event it was so cute. He works for this prompt so so well.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, Ruggie is a little shit but he really does care about Yuu, did you know sleep deprivation makes you act drunk? Because Yuu are about to find that out. The other event requests can be found on my masterlist here.

The fabric of his costume had felt weird at first, Ruggie has no idea why rich people insist on making their costumes feel so uncomfortable, but something about the mask brings back some of his confidence. Enhances it even, maybe that should have been his first sign something was going to go wrong.

You have complicated feelings about being stuck in Twisted Wonderland. On the one hand you have made friends you genuinely feel lucky to have met, on the other you know if you make it home no one will ever believe you. No matter where you go, you will forever be stuck with a painful longing for a group of people that you will never be able to see again.

Something about the masks everyone was wearing last night and how exhausted you had been after setting up had brought those thoughts up into the forefront of your mind, brewing a strange set of emotions in your chest. You wanted to cry, you could swear that's what you were doing but when you had removed your mask to check, your cheeks were suspiciously dry.

"Ain't it against the rules to be removing that so early?"

Ruggie doesn't give things out for free, that's why you're looking for him. That's what you tell yourself as you try to run through the locations he could be in your mind, straining your eyes to look through the crowd for a glimpse of gold, it's strange really how foolish this makes you feel. Yesterday you would have had no trouble finding him, yesterday you would have rolled your eyes and said something about how you always find him when you don't need him. But now...

"Here." The stranger's voice is hoarse, rough with emotion much like the handkerchief he wipes your cheek with even though its absent of any sorrow. "You really aren't good at this whole stay'n up late thing are you, prefect?" You think you laugh.

"The headmage had me set up the tables." It's a task you swear should have been done with magic, but your manual labor was clearly more convenient. "Honestly I sort of just want to go to sleep, but that would be a waste of the party."

"Yeah! You'd miss out on all the free food!" You swear, if you had just been more awake, you would have realized why his voice made you relax. If you had been more awake you wouldn't have let him lead you out of your corner and rest your head on his shoulder. If you had been more awake-

"Ha you sound like Grim." He takes both your hands in his and pulls you up to your feet with a truly wicked smile peeking out from his mask.

"Well now that's just rude!" His fingers intertwine with yours and you swear if he would just take off his mask you would see the whole world reflected in his eyes. "I promise I'm a much more fun time than your stupid cat, c'mon let me show you."

"But my mask!" You aren't really protesting, you want to go with him you swear you just want someplace to hide your embarrassment.

"Don't need it~" And he clearly knows that as he makes sure kiss your knuckles while clearly staring from behind his the whole time. "Let everybody see just who you're dancing with, yeah?" ~~~~ "Coast is clear." Jack mumbles, clearly conflicted as Ruggie stumbles out from the supply closet, but he doesn't say anything just yet. But it isn't a thought he is going to keep to himself forever.

"Thanks Jack! You're real reliable y'know?" The freshman's tail twitches, but Ruggie's praise doesn't have its intended affect.""Thanks Jack! You're real reliable y'know?" The freshman's tail twitches, but Ruggie's praise doesn't have its intended affect.

"This sucks to watch you know." He sounds almost as disappointed in him as Ruggie is himself, there is a petty part of him that wishes Jack was judging Yuu too put he knows they're not really in the wrong here. "Don't you at least want your hankie back?"

"What makes you think that's what I'm concerned with?" It's not what Ruggie intended to say, and clearly not what Jack thought he would hear. For some annoying reason it makes him smug, but Ruggie can't even bring himself to stumble towards denial. "I'm not usually that confident y'know? And besides..." He doesn't think Jack will understand his worries. Maybe Jamil would, they aren't exactly friends but he has talked about dating with him before. Yuu isn't from Twisted Wonderland, he's poor as shit, sure you could argue that dating is supposed to be fun and not something you worried about but when you have a lifetime's worth of hard work in your future...

Ruggie isn't big on saying people deserve things, but he is big on Yuu. Sure Leona is a grouchy bastard, Jack has that weird soul mate expectation, the Heartslabyul gang come from weirdly posh countries, and Azul and the twins are sketchy bastards but they all could give Yuu a place worth belonging to. He can't do that, not yet. And no matter how hard he intends to work for one there is always a chance he'll fail. Dreams don't pay your bills after all.

"I don't think they mind." Jack is always too serious when he says things, but there is an odd gentleness to the way he says this that Ruggie hasn't heard from anyone whose told him that before. "Yuu respects and likes you just the way you are, didn't even need me to tell them who they danced with last night they already knew it was you. Subconsciously anyway." That makes his heart do some painful flips, as Jack turns to go. "You aren't a bad guy Ruggie. Not in their eyes anyway."

But he should be. That's the problem. He should be someone you dislike for all the times he stepped on your feet and tricked you into staying with him instead of looking for your real friends. For how he is showing up at your door intending to trick you into feeding him for how much he "helped" you last night only to find you on you way out to find him, food already in hand.

"Oh I'm glad you came." There is relief in your sigh he didn't think he would ever hear from a classmate at this school. "I was worried by the time I found you it would go cold."

"Ha thought y'knew me better than that prefect!" He tries to laugh, but he knows his face is burning red and he is so overwhelmed he can't look at you at all. "I'd never let food go to waste. 'Specially not yours."

He can work the details out later, Ruggie hates doing that. He likes specific plans, but this is nice. If he closes his eyes as he sits at your table he can pretend its his, that you are his. And when he opens them, when he decides to be honest with himself, one of those things will be true.

[lamardeuse]

Here Comes the Jackpot Question In Advance

911  |    Buck/Eddie   |    Rated PG    |    c. 4100 words

@911bingo prompt: free space (completes a row!)

When Buck texts him late on Christmas Day to see if he can pick him up from LAX on the 26th instead of the 29th, Eddie simply answers, “of course” and leaves it at that. He can hold the questions until tomorrow.

That doesn't mean he isn't surprised when Buck looks – well, fine – when he jumps into the truck less than twenty four hours later.

“I look fine because I am fine,” Buck says, which makes Eddie frown as he weaves his way around the taxis and the confused tourists wandering across the road like L.A. drivers aren't homicidal. “It was the best Christmas I've had with my parents in – you know, I think it's the best Christmas I've ever had with them, period.”

“So you made up a bullshit story about having to fly back early to cover a shift because...”

“Because it was really good, and I didn't want to take the risk that it would get less good.” He pauses. “I know that sounds weird.”

“No,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “It doesn't.” It made perfect sense that Buck was wary of things going south with his family, because that's what tended to happen. “Maybe next year you can stay longer, or you might decide that short visits are the way to go. It's your choice.”

Buck smiles. “Thanks for understanding. I think Maddie thought I was a little bit crazy, but she supported me.”

“That's what big sisters are supposed to do.”

Buck sighs. “Plus when I first planned the trip two months ago, I was still with Natalia. I know they understood we broke up, but I didn't want them to start asking too many questions.”

“Or offering to set you up with their friend's daughter from the country club.”

Buck shudders. “They've never tried to do that, thank god.”

“You've hit thirty and you have no wife in sight. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“Dickhead,” Buck says, but there's a clear affection in his tone that warms Eddie in a way he doesn't want to think about too much. “Merry late Christmas, by the way.”

“Merry Christmas. Though you told me that yesterday.”

“A text isn't the same.” Buck yawns. “Oh man, I'm beat.”

“Too beat to come back to the house and open your presents?”

“Presents?” Buck asks, perking up. “As in more than one?”

“Christopher wanted to get you his own this year.”

When Buck doesn't say anything right away, Eddie glances over at him and sees his eyes are shining. He looks away again quickly as Buck ducks his head and wipes a hand across his face.

“No,” Buck rasps. “I mean no, I'm not too tired.”

Eddie swallows around the sudden tightness in his throat. “Go ahead and sack out if you want. I'll wake you up when we get home.”

“Home,” Eddie thinks he hears Buck murmur under his breath, but when he glances over again, Buck's eyes are already closed.

read the rest at the AO3

[bluecatwriter]

A Blood of My Blood-universe scene of Arthur and Jack soon after returning to England, based on this prompt from @animate-mush: "Jack hopped up on whatever combination of pain medication is getting him through the catastrophic loss of one of his limbs just covering Arthur with sloppy kisses about it." Don't mind if I do.

(CW for medicinal drug use and mildly dubious consent)

*

Jack had been breaking a lot of things lately.

Earlier today, it had been a drinking-glass, hurled against the wall. Yesterday it had been a window-pane of the bedroom they shared, shattered by a paperweight from Jack's desk (the pane was now covered in nailed-down cloth to keep the winter chill out until a workman could come fix it). And now, as Arthur laid in bed and Jack sat at his desk, it was a book, which Jack was tearing out page by page with his single hand, crumpled paper falling like snow around him.

Arthur had stopped trying many days ago to make him stop. Jack was alive, and that was all Arthur cared about. Let him shatter and rip and shred the house apart, for what was broken in his own flesh— the ragged scar from his face across his throat, the severed stump of his left hand— was mending, cell by cell.

Losing his voice was the biggest blow, Arthur knew. Jack was not exactly a storyteller, not like Quincey (the name sent a sharp pain up into his heart, a flash of memory, Quincey's mangled body in the snow). But he processed things verbally, he communicated things verbally, and he could barely write with his right hand. Arthur had been scrambling to figure out solutions— a one-handed typewriter, an instructor to teach them both a modified version of sign language— but he knew that Jack didn't want solutions, he wanted his voice back.

So Arthur was quiet while Jack raged. He deserved a bit of raging, Arthur figured.

Arthur drifted in and out of a shallow sleep; he and Jack had shared a bed ever since they'd returned to Ring, but Jack went to bed much later than he did, and he had learned not to try to hurry him. It was probably far after midnight when the sound of ripping paper stopped, and Arthur heard the shuffling around that told him Jack had resigned himself to taking his medication for the night and crawling into bed.

Jack was on a couple different pain medications right now— grudgingly so, but without which he could not function. He always took morphine before bed, and Arthur cracked his eye open to see Jack wrapping the tourniquet around his left arm and injecting himself, staring blankly ahead, not even flinching. When he was done, he put everything away, dropped his glasses on the desk with a clatter, turned off all but one gas-lamp (they had learned to keep a light on, so that Jack could "talk" even if he woke up in the night), and shuffled over to the bed.

Arthur lifted the blanket and let Jack flop down next to him, face to face. Jack was staring a thousand miles away, lying on his left side with bandaged stump of his arm tucked against his chest.

Arthur scooted closer and held him, because of instinct, because of habit, because of terror that Jack would disappear like mist if he didn't put his arm around him and convince himself he was real. Neither of them could bear the thought of waking up from nightmares to find himself alone.

Arthur signed Goodnight. He could have spoken it aloud, but he wanted to show some solidarity. Jack didn't reply, just laid on the pillow as if dead.

With a sigh, Arthur closed his eyes and drifted to sleep again.

He had been asleep for some time when he found himself surfacing, and he quickly realized that Jack was crying. The sounds that came from his throat were strangled gurgles, and tears flowed down his cheeks. Arthur stirred and pulled him closer, soothing a hand over his arm as Jack's hand gripped his shirt.

"Are you all r—" Arthur began to ask, but in an instant Jack grabbed him by his hair and kissed him.

The kiss knocked Arthur's breath out; they'd been sharing a bed for weeks now, but had never done this before. He tried to pull back, to ask Jack what had prompted this, but Jack's hand clenched harder in his hair, his mouth hot and insistent, his leg hooking over Arthur's to pull his body closer. His mouth had a sharp metallic tang, scents of blood and bile, but the passion in his kiss sent Arthur's head reeling. When he took Jack's shoulders and firmly pushed him away, Jack made a whining sound.

"Jack," Arthur said, a bit breathless, "what are you— you— You're high on morphine right now, I can't—"

Jack's face wrinkled into almost a snarl, and he clapped his fingers together to sign Stop. In an instant he had sat up, pushed Arthur onto his back, thrown a leg over him to straddle him, and begun kissing him again— his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, his eyes, tears dripping down onto his face. Arthur tried to convince himself to resist again, to feel that he was somehow taking advantage, but he couldn't muster the will. Jack's hand in his hair, his lips moving with brutal desperation, his weight pinning him down: all of it begged him to let go, to give Jack everything he wanted.

He cupped Jack's face in both hands, his fingers gingerly grazing over the stitched skin on his jaw. At his touch Jack's movements slowed, and Jack settled his full weight on top of him, kissing him as if slowly gulping down huge draughts of water. Arthur held out a moment more before melting against the bed, opening his mouth to accept lips against lips, tongue against tongue.

Everything for so long had hurt so much, and this did not hurt. He gave in.

*

Jack awoke slowly, disoriented by the late morning light. Arthur's arm was thrown over him as usual, but it was bare, warm against his own naked skin. Jack stiffened as he remembered last night, and at his movement, he felt Arthur murmur and wake up behind him.

For a moment, they just laid there curled up together tensely. Then Jack shook off Arthur's arm and sat up, the cold air of the room raising goosebumps on his bare skin. Arthur looked up at him uncertainly, his eyes wide.

Jack swallowed, feeling a painful squeeze in his throat as he always did. He made a fist and circled it over his chest. Sorry.

Arthur sat up slowly, and Jack blushed and looked away. He spoke softly. "I'm only sorry if you are."

Jack's blush grew deeper. If he could've spoken, he would have said, I'm not sorry, really. Only mortified. Instead, he reached out and took Arthur's hand, squeezing it.

Arthur touched his chin and turned his head gently, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Whatever gets us through, right?"

Jack sank against him, pressing his face against his neck, and let out a breath as Arthur's arms came around him. Jack nodded against him, feeling a spaciousness in his heart that he hadn't felt before. 

Whatever got them through.

~~~