#I DON'T HAVE THE GAME YET BUT I'VE BEEN STARING AT PICTURES OF HIM AND CRYING FOR HOURS

[hwaarang]

i’m literally screaming crying & throwing up why is hwoarang so beautiful in t8

[songbirdseung]

photobooth / sim jaeyun

synopsis: take a picture, it'll last longer

pairing: college students jake x reader, strangers, campus crush

warnings: none?? maybe college?? lol, lmk if i missed anything

wc: 1k

Sitting outside, eating lunch with your friends in one of the park-like areas of your university was a common occurrence. But today was different. Today, you caught a glimpse of the new foreign exchange student from South Korea.

You were the friend who was always single, the one who constantly complained about being alone but never really ventured outside the house. You never made the effort to ask anyone out. Yet, something inside you compelled you to get up from your picnic blanket and approach the attractive stranger.

"Your soup is going to get cold, YN. What are you even looking at?" Yuna asked, trying to match your line of sight. Eventually, her eyes landed on the man sitting on a bench. "Oh, Jake. I see."

"Jake? You know him?" you asked. Yuna nodded and explained that he was in her science class. He was known to be a smart guy, originally from South Korea but also from Australia. You looked back at where Jake had been sitting, but the bench was now empty.

"Awh, is little baby YN finally falling for someone?" Sunghoon teased.

Ever since that day, you had a new endeavor: to find or at least catch a glimpse of Jake every day. Whenever you got out of class early, you would rush to Yuna's science class, knowing Jake would be there. Naturally, your friends teased you, calling you obsessive and a stalker. Unbeknownst to you, you weren't very discreet because Jake had definitely noticed your love-filled stares, thanks in part to his friend, Jay.

"Do you know her?" Jay asked one day while he and Jake were playing soccer with other people. Jay had noticed a girl sitting in the bleachers with her friend. That girl was you, and you had convinced Yuna to watch Jake practice.

"Don't forget about me when you start dating him," Yuna nudged you playfully.

"Oh, please. Like you didn't avoid me for a week when you started dating Sunghoon," you retorted with a grin. As you both playfully argued, Jake paused, took a good look at you, and shook his head at Jay.

"This is actually the first time I've seen her," Jake admitted.

A week later, there you were again at Jake's practice, but this time you were by yourself. Deep down, you knew you were being kind of creepy and weird, but having a crush makes you do the strangest things. Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t pay much attention to the game, simply spacing out until the very end of the practice. You snapped out of it only when Jake made his way towards you, his Aussie accent pulling you back to reality.

"Hey, space cadet!" Jake called out with a grin, snapping his fingers in front of your face.

Startled, you blinked and looked up at him. "Oh, hi. Sorry, I was just… thinking."

"Thinking, huh?" Jake laughed. "Must have been some deep thoughts. I'm Jake, by the way."

"Yeah, I know," you replied nervously. "I'm YN."

"Nice to officially meet you, YN," he said, extending his hand. After you shook it, he continued, "So, I’ve noticed you’ve been around a lot lately. Do you always come to watch soccer practice, or am I just that interesting?"

You blushed, trying to find the right words. "Well, um, maybe a bit of both?"

Jake chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’m just teasing. Jay told me you’ve got a bit of a crush on me."

You felt your face heat up even more. "He did, did he? That’s… embarrassing."

"Not really," Jake said with a smile. "It’s kind of cute, actually. So, tell me more about yourself. What’s your major?"

As you both started talking, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You found yourselves laughing and sharing stories, and it felt like an instant spark, as if you had known each other your whole lives.

"You know," Jake said after a while, "I feel like we’ve been friends forever. This is nice."

"Yeah," you agreed, smiling. "It really is."

Over the next few weeks, your friendship with Jake grew stronger. You found yourselves hanging out more often, whether it was grabbing coffee after classes, studying together in the library, or just chatting about life.

One afternoon, as you were both sitting under a large oak tree on campus, Jake turned to you with a smile. "So, YN, tell me something I don't know about you yet."

You thought for a moment, then grinned. "I can play the guitar. Not many people know that about me."

"Really? That's awesome!" Jake exclaimed. "You have to play for me sometime."

"Only if you promise not to laugh if I mess up," you said, nudging him playfully.

"I promise," Jake said, raising his hand as if taking an oath.

Another day, you both decided to go for a hike in the nearby hills. As you reached the top, the view took your breath away. Standing side by side, you both admired the scenery in comfortable silence.

"It's beautiful up here," you said softly.

"Yeah, it is," Jake replied, looking at you instead of the view. "Thanks for suggesting this."

"No problem," you said, feeling a warm blush rise to your cheeks. "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

As the days turned into weeks, Jake became a constant presence in your life. One evening, after a particularly grueling study session, Jake looked at you and said, "You know, I really appreciate having you around. You make everything more fun."

"Thanks, Jake," you replied, smiling. "I feel the same way."

One night, while sitting on a bench after a late-night coffee run, Jake turned to you with a serious expression. "YN, I've been thinking… We've become really close, and I don't want to ruin our friendship, but I feel like there's something more here. Do you feel it too?"

Your heart raced as you met his gaze. "I do, Jake. I’ve felt it for a while now."

He smiled, reaching out to take your hand. "So, what do you say we give this a shot? See where it goes?"

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a surge of happiness. "I'd like that a lot."

From that moment on, your relationship with Jake blossomed into something even more special. The bond you shared, built on a foundation of friendship, grew stronger with each passing day.

[tigergirltail]

TIGER HRT CHAPTER 6 - MONTH 6 - THE CAGED BIRD

CONTENT WARNING - This chapter contains mentions of medical injections, bigotry, child abuse, self-harm, and attempted suicide. Reader beware.

FIRST - PREV - NEXT

I had my six-month check-up with Dr. Erian, an online appointment just like last time. No particular medical issues this time around, bloodwork checks out, genetic reconfiguration is stable. We can't do a thorough physical exam over the internet, but according to him, I am "the very picture of health, by the standards of your species". I'm a bit curious what standards those are, given that I have yet to hear about any other tiger therians. Hopefully there ARE standards, and he's not just giving me empty reassurance.

We also spent some time going over dietary concerns - am I getting enough meat, am I reducing my fruit and grain intake appropriately, that sort of thing. I assured him that I'm eating real meat with every meal, just like the booklet said to, I've been limiting fruits and vegetables, and I don't even have an appetite for anything grain-based. I'll probably miss what fresh bread used to be like, but I just can't bring myself to want it anymore. Apparently not every therian is following the diet they're supposed to, but the doctor didn't have any concerns about me, "assuming your answers are honest, Miss Alexis". What, does he think I'm about to lie to the one person who knows how species transition works?

At one point during the discussion I thought I heard him mutter something about a "foolish undine", but I must have misheard. Undines are water spirits or elementals or something - a fictional creature. Then again, so are dragons and lamias, but the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl, and I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia. At this point you could tell me there's someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog, and I might actually believe you.

I've hit the point of full fur coverage, so no more awkward bald patches! Unfortunately, this does mean I need to start taking my estrogen in a form other than skin patches, because there's nowhere left to stick them. After a lot of agonizing over the pros and cons of potential liver damage from pills versus facing down my needle phobia, I opted to ask my endocrinologist to train me on injectable estrogen. She made a somewhat tone-deaf joke about not being trained in veterinary medicine, but she was otherwise very patient and reassuring, so I let it slide.

I do want to state for the record that I am a big scary tiger who's not afraid of anything and I only cried a little bit the first time I injected myself.

My ears are definitely becoming much more sensitive - I keep hearing really annoying high-pitch noises when I'm around heavy machinery, and that happens a lot more often than you might think. My office at work is right next to an elevator, and whenever someone uses it, the motor lets out this gods-awful whine and I have to plug my ears until it stops moving again. My local grocery also has a few freezer units that give off a similar sound, constantly, and I've had to start wearing earplugs to go on food runs.

As for visual changes, I can see in the dark reasonably well, but I've also started getting headaches and discomfort when I squint or try too hard to focus on something. I guess I should probably just… try to not do that. I have spent a significant portion of my life staring at a screen, so my eyes probably aren't in the best shape overall.

Now that my physical changes are pretty much done, most people just assume I'm wearing a very intricate costume - at least, until they get close. No costume has mouth movements or facial expressions this realistic, and believe me, our top furry scientists and engineers have tried.

At one point there's a conversation on the humanity removal chat server about the political climates in our respective areas towards therians. Obviously, a lot of the right-wing talking-head shows have been shitting themselves inside-out about the idea of people giving up their humanity, especially the ones with a more religious bent. "How dare these freaks forsake God's holy image", "Humanity is a divine blessing and must be cherished", "We call on the one true God to smite these worshippers of the Beast", and so on like that. Excuse you, but I've never worshipped your discriminatory god and I'm not beholden to their 'holy image'. My goddess is one of beauty, love, and artistic expression, and the entire reason I'm changing myself in the first place is as an expression of self-love.

Most of us agree, though, that the absolute worst of the 24-hour news cycle doesn't have anything to do with how regular everyday people see us. In fact, we're rare enough still that a decent proportion of people don't believe we exist - they think that tabloids made us up to sell more copies. I don't know if that's better in terms of acceptance, but I'll take it over a torch-and-pitchfork mob running me out of town.

The conversation shifts to us sharing our locations, those of us who are comfortable doing so at least. We generally keep it vague, but most of us are at least alright with saying which country we live in. I narrow it down to a province for myself, mainly because my province alone is larger than some countries, but also because once we start to get noticed by the media and the world, there'll probably be no stopping our locations becoming known.

It's also going to get interesting if anyone starts asking how most of us are going to the same medical provider when he requires that consultations be done in person, or why the location he operates out of - Hyper City - doesn't appear on any map. Truthfully, I'm still trying to wrap my head around it myself.

The next day, I get a private message from the girl with the corvid avatar:

"Hey I saw your post when everybody was talking about where they are! I live there too!! We should totally meet up sometime ^v^"

…This is a dilemma. Obviously, I'm worried about the optics of a teenager meeting up with a 39-year-old she met on the internet, there's all kinds of ways that could be taken the wrong way, but dammit, I still don't know anyone like me in this part of the world, who knows if I'll ever find anyone else who's local? …I really want to try, but I should at least give her a warning, and a judgement-free out.

"Uhh I get wanting to meet up, but I'm more than 20 years older than you, would your parents be anywhere near cool with that??"

There's a long pause. I see her start and stop typing multiple times. I'm worried I've upset her. Eventually, she sends another message:

"I don't give a fuck what they think"

I'm taken aback by the harshness of the reply, and don't manage to type anything before another series of messages pops up:

"and they don't care what I do anyway so it's whatever" "if anyone asks I'll just say you're my weird aunt" "you have no idea how bad I want to meet someone who GETS IT" "humanity is a curse and I want to be free"

'I want to be free'. Something about that phrase hits somewhere deep, in a source of pain that never fully healed. Freedom from pain, freedom from self-hatred, freedom at any cost, even if it meant my life. I remember how that desire for freedom feels.

The only thing I can think to do next is ask if she's okay. Her response is to ask if I can go on a voice call. I'm not sure if she wants some confirmation that I'm a real person or if she just doesn't want the next part of the conversation preserved in the text log.

"Hey…", I begin cautiously as the voice call starts. "Can you hear me okay?"

There's a suppressed sniffle on the other end. "Yeah… I hear you."

For a moment I entertain the thought of going all 'when I was your age' and explaining that I was always cautioned against talking to strangers on the internet, but it's probably not the time for that. Read the room, Alexis.

She's not saying anything. I'm going to have to start this off, I think. Something harmless, something value-neutral…

"So from your icon, I'm guessing you want crow HRT? Raven HRT, maybe?"

"Crow HRT.", she states simply. "Crows are everywhere here, and I've always loved them, always been jealous of them. They get to go anywhere they want, do anything they want…" She lets out a groaning sigh. "Augh, this is stupid. You probably think I'm stupid for wanting this."

I can't hold back from giving a little bit of a laugh. "Hah! Young lady, one year ago I went to a doctor and told him to his face that I wanted him to turn me into a recessive-gene variant of an endangered species that doesn't even live on this continent, and then I threatened to bite him if he wouldn't do it. Fantasizing about being a crow is just about the normalest thing I can imagine compared to that."

"…You said you'd BITE him?"

I grin, though without a camera set up she can't see it. "Every one of us who seeks out humanity removal therapy is already a little bit inhuman, even if we don't fully know it yet. After all, why would we remove something if we felt emotionally attached to it?"

Another audible sniffle. "Holy fuck, you DO get it…"

"I sure hope I get it, it's not like I can un-grow the fur and the tail."

She gives a laugh, then there's a long pause. "…Does it hurt? Is it scary?"

"Sometimes. My fingers were REALLY sore while my claws were developing, and having your entire facial structure rearrange is no joke. As for scary, well, I sure get stared at a lot more, but I think I scare people a lot more than they scare me."

"Heh, maybe I want to be scary."

I frown a little. "I don't. I just want to be true to myself."

There's an awkward silence. After a while, I decide to bring up something I was curious about:

"So I remember you asking if there was a way to get species HRT without your parents noticing. I'm guessing they're not exactly supportive?"

She lets out an uncomfortable groan. "Mmmngh… They watch a lot of those news shows, you know, the ones that only run angry sensationalist bullcrap? Dad gets furious at the idea of anyone changing themselves, something about the 'holy sanctity of the human body' or whatever. He even thinks tattoos are blasphemy. Mom says it's the most horrific thing she can imagine, she nearly fainted when she caught me watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes."

"And here you are, wanting to be a bird… I'm sorry, that sounds really rough."

"It… It is." I can hear her voice faltering. "Hearing nothing but how terrible a waste it is, and how awful and horrific they are, and the whole time knowing that I'd give ANYTHING for it to happen to me, I just… I'm sorry, I just…"

"Hey, you don't need to apologize… I'm not going anywhere."

"I just… don't know how much longer I can take it!"

"…Take what?" I'm afraid to ask my next question, but… I just have to. "…What are they doing to you??"

Somewhere deep inside her, the dam just… breaks. She starts sobbing as she tells me about how her parents yell at her over every single mistake, how she gets shoved or hit just for being in the way, how she hurts herself just so the pain gives her something to feel and to focus on, and how she… How she once climbed up to the roof of her building and took a flying leap off. She had every intention to end her own life, but in the moment her feet left the ground and she felt the air under her arms, she experienced a rush of euphoria, for the first time she can remember.

…And a moment later, she broke a leg and several ribs when she hit the ground.

She explains that she spent over a month in hospital, a captive audience for her parents to yell at more, when they even bothered to show up at all. I'm too stunned to even react.

She's spent the years since then chasing that high, climbing trees and jumping off, finding rooftops and hilltops to go stand in the wind, looking up online videos of parachuting and wingsuiting and hang gliding, and when she first heard rumours about medical treatments that can alter one's very species, she started frantically researching. That's how she started finding other therians to reach out to, how she got involved in the group chat.

"Have you… had an appointment with Dr. Erian yet?" I have a feeling I already know the answer - something something, 'letter from a physician, two psychologists, live as your preferred species for at least a year'. The same horseshit I had to listen to.

"No… I tried to get one, but he won't see anyone under 18 without parental consent, and fat chance of ever getting that."

Huh. I hadn't expected that, it feels surprisingly principled for him. Though at the end of the day, it's probably just another liability thing - ol' Teddy Erian covering his own ass as usual.

"I just…" She's started crying again. "I just want to turn into a beautiful black bird and fly away from all this, forever… I just want to live my life on the wind, going wherever I want, never having to see a single human again…"

I can feel my own tears welling up, and that's the moment I make my decision. I'm going to meet up with this girl, and I'm going to find a way to help her. Maybe she doesn't need humanity removal, maybe she just needs to know someone who understands.

We decide on a place and time to meet up. There's a little cafe I like nearby, run by a trio of neurodivergent queer women. It's a public place, and about as safe for weirdos like us as you can get. Corvid-girl tells me she'll be the one with a feathered headband and a crow-skull necklace. I tell her I'll be the one with white fur and a tail. That manages to get a laugh out of her. I choose to take that as a victory.

There's something about the way she laughs that sounds a bit like a crow's call. I wonder whether that's intentional on her part…

A few days later, I'm sitting in the cafe enjoying a hot chocolate and a roast beef sandwich - extra meat, naturally. Dr. Erian said I have to start cutting chocolate out of my diet because cocoa is going to become toxic to me, but… chocolate! I did ask for a lighter mix though, so what I'm drinking is actually mostly just hot milk. Maybe there's a cocoa-free substitute out there I can look into…

I'm snapped out of my thoughts by a squeal of delight emanating from the front door. There's a teenage girl standing there, staring directly at me with a look of amazement on her face. Dark clothes, pale skin, black hair, headband with feathers in it, and hanging from her neck, an amulet in the shape of a bird skull. I smile and wave a paw at her. She practically bounces as she walks up to my table and takes a seat.

"Holy SHIT, you're… And you even have the… Your face looks just like… Can I touch your paw??"

I laugh and hold out my paw. "Haha, sure, just watch out for the claws, they don't stay all the way inside just yet."

"Oh, it's okay, I'm used to sharp things!"

I wince as I think back to our voice chat from the other day. I REALLY hope she doesn't mean what I think she means, but I can't help noticing she's wearing long sleeves, even though the weather has been getting warmer.

She turns my paw over and squeals. "OHMYGOD you even have the BEEEEANS!" I can't resist smiling as she starts poking and prodding at my pawpads. "You look SO!! AMAZING!!"

Corvid-girl starts frantically complimenting all my animalistic features - "Your stripes are so pretty!" "I love your tail!" "Ohh, your fangs, they're so COOL!!" - and I start uncontrollably blushing. I never would have thought species affirmation would feel this euphoric… Naturally, being a teenager, she takes this as an excuse to push even harder, and I start covering my face with my paws, thoroughly embarrassed.

"You look just like the tigers they have on stage for those shows in Vegas!"

"H-hey, that's actually not okay…"

"You know, I bet you'd look good up on a stage too! Everyone would love to see you!!"

Instinctually, I let out a growl, louder than I actually want to. It has the intended effect, in that she stops dead and stares at me, but so do a few other cafe patrons. Oh gods, here comes the embarrassment again… "H-hey, look, it's just…"

"Sorry." She's gone completely deadpan, and stiff as a board.

I close my eyes tightly. Gods, why did I DO that?? First the waitress at that seafood place, and now an actual CHILD. I REALLY need to start getting a handle on these predator instincts. When I open my eyes again, she's still standing there, and she looks like she's on the verge of a panic attack.

I need to calm her down, need to bring her back. "No… I'M sorry. I shouldn't have done that, I just… The animals they use for those stage shows get abused all the time, and it's kind of a sore spot for me."

"…Really?"

Okay, she's talking, she's distracted, maybe I can still salvage this. "Yeah… Every species has baggage, it's one of the shitty parts of being therian, and tigers, white tigers especially, they're treated like show pieces, or worse."

"…Well shit, I knew they're endangered, but… fuck."

"Yeah, it's a whole thing, I try not to -"

Our conversation is interrupted by one of the staff tapping corvid-girl on the shoulder and asking to talk privately. She reluctantly agrees to go to the back of the store and talk. At first I think maybe she's being chastised for being a disturbance, but the barista who pulled her away is giving me some very pointed looks. Worried looks, I might even say.

If I angle my ears just right, I can almost hear them through the noise of the rest of the cafe.

"…other patrons were concerned… …young lady so close to a dangerous creature…"

I wonder if the barista notices the indignant look that crosses my face when they describe me as a 'creature'.

Corvid-girl lets out that bird-like laugh of hers. Her voice is a lot more distinct and easier to pick out:

"It's just my aunt! She's not a 'creature', she just takes meds to look like that!"

The barista doesn't protest as corvid-girl returns to our table, but they're still giving me a very 'You'd better not try anything' kind of look.

Corvid-girl sits down, seemingly a little more grounded, a little more sobered. "…I guess I never thought to ask, why a white tiger?"

I lean forward, head in one paw, and give a bit of a shrug. "I relate a lot to them."

"To… being treated like a show piece, or whatever you said?"

"…Yeah. When I was little, they called me 'gifted' and put me in a separate school. I remember being excited about it, but it turns out it just meant getting more homework."

"…Ew."

I smile a little bit. "That's what I thought too! They wanted me to be some brilliant prodigy, a genius in the making, but the reality is I was just more observant and better at math than most people, that's all. I actually had to take an extra year of school because I was so bad at it."

"EWW!!"

"I KNOW, RIGHT?? But, then I went to college and graduated at the top of my class, so the joke's on them in the end."

"I wasn't even planning on staying around long enough for college…" She still has a bit of a depressed air about her, but she's not going into a panic. Maybe I'm better with kids than I thought.

"Yeah, I remember, you were going to turn into a beautiful crow and fly away forever." I try to give her a reassuring look. "But hey, the human world isn't ALL bad."

"Says the woman who's turning herself into a wild animal."

I snort quietly as I hold back a laugh. "Okay, fair, but wild animals don't get the internet, or nice little cafes where weirdos like us can just sit and talk."

"Hah, yeah… Weirdos like us." She gives a smile. An actual, genuine smile. Suddenly all the awkwardness is worth it, to see someone so deeply unhappy smile. "That reminds me, I saw on the server you're into witchcraft, can you… teach me?"

Somehow I feel like I should have expected this. The goth-looking crow girl is into witchcraft, big surprise. "I… guess? Maybe? I'm not like an expert or anything, I've just read a few books and cast a few spells is all."

"Ooh, what kind of spells??" And now she's back to her enthusiastic self.

"Just some protective charms on people who needed them, a few card readings with a tarot deck, nothing much really…"

"Does it really work??"

"I mean, the people I cast those charms on ended up safe in the end, but who knows if what I did made a difference? Some of the card readings were scary-accurate though, I think I might have a talent for divination."

She laughs. "Gonna have to get you to read my future sometime."

We end up spending the next hour or so making small talk, getting to know each other, talking about the ins and outs of humanity removal, complaining about Dr. Erian, until…

"Hey, I gotta go catch the bus back home, but… this was nice." She gives a bit of a smirk. "Cool to meet another weirdo."

Before she leaves, I ask her name - I still don't know it, I've been internally calling her 'corvid-girl' this entire time.

She gives me a disgusted grimace. "Ugh, it's 'Margaret'. I'm named for my great-grandmother, it's SUCH an old-lady name."

"Margaret, like Maggie, as in magpie?" I smile a little. "Those are corvids too, you know."

Her expression softens a little. "…Never thought of that. Still don't like it, though…"

"Well, is there a name you'd like better? I can start calling you that if you like."

She freezes. Somewhere in her eyes I can see her mind working to process what I've just said. "…Nobody ever asked me that before. I'll… think about it." She turns to leave.

"Wait, hold on a sec."

"WHAT!?" She outright glares at me, then seems to soften. "Sorry, it's… never mind."

That… was an EXTREMELY sudden mood shift. Trauma response, maybe? "I… was just going to ask if you wanted a sandwich or something to take home."

"…Didn't bring any money…"

I shake my head a little. "That doesn't answer my question. Would you like me to BUY you a sandwich or something?"

"…Egg salad if they got it I guess…"

I go up to the counter and buy her an egg salad sandwich to go. She looks like she's going to cry when I hand it to her. I… probably shouldn't make a big deal about that, but somewhere deep inside, my heart breaks a little. Does she never have anyone just… offer her food?

I'm beginning to understand why she wants to leave behind the curse of humanity. I chose this path, I wanted to be a tiger, I'm running towards something. Corvid-girl, though? She's running away from something.

I walk her outside, and she starts to walk away, but suddenly stops, and turns back to me. She walks resolutely up to me, then grabs me in a hug.

"Soft…" Her voice is muffled against both my shirt and the fur underneath. "You're very soft…"

Once I get over my surprise at the sudden gesture, I hesitantly put one arm around her shoulders and pat her on the back. She pulls away after a few short moments, and walks away down the sidewalk without another word.

I touch my shirt where her head was leaning, and notice a small wet spot.

---

Time to play "Spot the References!" Intentional references below:

"something about a 'foolish undine'" - welldrawnfish (Fish HRT)

"the first well-known humanity remover was a dragon-girl" - ayviedoesthings (Dragon HRT)

"I've been hanging out and playing online games with a lamia" - ariathelamia (Lamia HRT)

"someone out there transitioning to Sonic the Hedgehog" - sonic-spirit (Sonic HRT)

"watching a stream of this one dragon girl talking about her changes" - Rain, by Jocelyn Samara D. (Dragon HRT)

[jokeringcutio]

Stepdad!William Afton x Reader "Pregnant" Mature/Drabble [1]

FNAF | William Afton (stepdad!) x (f) Reader | MATURE Summary: Imagine: Your mom is pregnant and tells you the 'joyful' news. She doesn't know you carry a child from your stepdad as well. Only, you are not allowed to share the news with anyone. AN: These drabbles are in no particular order and not necessarily related. But they are all Stepdad!WilliamAfton x !StepdaughterReader Universe. This could follow up on Christmas Present.

Warnings: talk about dub-con/taboo relationship, keeping it a secret, angst, drama, William being mean.

"Come join us at the table, dear," your mom called out to you, her voice brimming with excitement. You reluctantly took a seat, forcing a smile onto your face as she presented a sonogram in front of you. William, your stepdad, stood nearby, his involvement in all this clear by the proud look on his face.

The sight of the sonogram made your stomach churn. No, all but that, you silently pleaded. But the picture was still there. No lie in it.

An unborn child, a baby, already very much formed, sucking its thumb, stared back at you. She wasn’t just pregnant, she must have been for a while. It explained why she started to eat more and had gained weight. You should have noticed. Fighting back the nausea threatening to overwhelm you, you continued to feign happiness for your mom and stepdad's sake.

"Can you believe it?" your mom gushed. "You're finally going to have a sibling! I've wanted to give you a brother or sister for so long, but I never had the chance. And now that I'm getting older, I thought it might be too late. But it's like a Christmas miracle!" She laughed, lost in her joy. "I swear it must have happened on Christmas Eve."

You tried to stomach the details, politely listening while feeling sick to your core. Your eyes searched William's face for any sign of guilt, but he only looked back at you impassively, raising his fingers to his lips in a hushing gesture. Christmas Eve. A miracle indeed, you thought. You remembered the evening well, how William came to your room before going back to your mother. You forced another smile, wishing the conversation could end.

"Mom, Dad, I'm really happy for you both," you managed to choke out, hoping your words sounded genuine. And you would have been, if not for your stepdad constantly putting his cock inside of you behind your mom’s back. You felt guilty and dirty and quite frankly, you felt like a cheap toy to him. Yet, you had grown to love his touches. You craved him.

William Afton had become a need in your life.

And so you would have been happy for your mom if she had married any other man than your stepfather.

"Congratulations, Mom," you whispered, wrapping your arms around her in a tight embrace. You could tell she appreciated the gesture, and for a moment you thought you could fake your way through this. William be damned. He couldn’t break the bond between mother and daughter. Not with his manipulative games, not with his secrets, and not with his control over you. But then, the traitorous nauseating churn in your stomach grew stronger as she clung to you, her joy infectious yet painful for you to witness.

"Thank you, sweetie," she said, pulling back and beaming at you. Your vision blurred, the nausea intensifying until it was unbearable. "I'm just so –"

"Excuse me," you interrupted, clamping a hand over your mouth as you bolted from the table, but it was too late. The contents of your stomach spilled out, splattering across the table in a vile mess.

"Are you okay?" your mom asked, concern etched into her face. "You've been unwell a lot recently."

"Sorry, I'm fine," you lied once the heaving finally stopped, cheeks burning with shame as you grabbed tissues from the counter and started cleaning up the mess. You couldn't let her know the truth. William would kill you if you told her.

"Maybe you should see a doctor soon," your mom suggested, glancing at William for support. "Don't you think that's a good idea?"

He nodded, his arms crossed and expression stoic. "Yes, it might be best."

"Thanks for worrying, Mom," you mumbled, your heart thudding in your chest as you wiped away the last traces of vomit. "I promise I'll make an appointment."

"Good," she said, relief flickering in her eyes. "I just want you to be healthy and happy."

"Me too," you whispered, forcing a smile.

With a final swipe, you finished cleaning your mess and rushed past William to throw the dirty tissues in the trash. "Congratulations on becoming a dad again," you said, trying to sound sincere.

"Thank you," he responded with a nasty grin, his voice dripping with malice. "I've always wanted more kids."

His words twisted like a knife in your gut as you retreated to the living room. Your mom beckoned William over, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Come sit with me, let's think of names for our little miracle."

You watched them for a little while, your heart heavy with sadness, feeling more alone than ever. Why was your stepdad this way, you wondered?

Unable to bear it any longer, you fled to your room, closing the door a bit too loudly behind you. Frustration bubbled up inside you, threatening to explode. You groaned and threw yourself onto your bed, tears streaming down your face as you cried out in despair.

"Damn you, William," you choked between sobs, placing a trembling hand on your stomach. "How could you do this to me? How could you do this to my mom? You knew it, you knew all along that something like this could happen and yet -"

You bit your lip and never finished that sentence. Instead, you pulled a yellowing pregnancy test from beneath your pillow – two purple lines stared back, cold and unyielding, a stark reminder of your fate.

The memory of William barging into your room, a smug grin plastered on his face, came rushing back. He had casually tossed you the pregnancy test, demanding that you take it immediately.

"Go on," he'd sneered, "make sure you get it right."

“I’m not pregnant,” you had said boldly. It was what you had hoped, after all. A baby would complicate so many things. It sounded like a nightmare, not a dream. Not like this.

You recalled the humiliation and fear as he forced you to go to the bathroom, standing by your side like a perverse sentinel as you peed on the stick. His eyes never left you, a twisted fascination in his gaze, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of being violated.

"Good girl," he'd said mockingly once you were done, the words dripping with malice. He’d celebrated the outcome of the test quite elaborately. “Let’s see if we can make it twins.” You felt dirty thinking back of it.

Now, staring down at the damning evidence in your hand, you thought about how you probably got pregnant around the same time as your mom. The realization churned your stomach, the sheer wrongness of it all making your head spin. Both of you, carrying this man's child – it was too much to bear.

"Fuck you, William," you whispered bitterly, clenching the pregnancy test tightly in your hand. Your breaths came in shallow and ragged as you tried to calm yourself, focusing on the sensation of the life growing inside you.

"Stay strong," you told yourself, trying to push away the dark thoughts swirling in your mind. "This baby... this baby is innocent. It’s his doing. He is trying to break this family apart."

A knock on the door startled you, and you quickly hid the stick beneath your pillow. Grabbing a book, you pretended to read, hoping to mask your tear-streaked face.

"Sweetie, can I come in?" your mom asked, stepping into the room. Her eyes scanned your face, noting the redness and damp trails on your cheeks. "Oh, sweetheart…I know it's a lot to take in," she said gently, "but I really want you to be happy for me."

You nodded, swallowing hard as you tried to muster a smile. "Of course, Mom. I'm happy for you both."

"Thank you," she said, her voice soft and grateful. "And with me getting further along in my pregnancy, I'll probably need your help more around the house. Can I count on you? I think you’d be a wonderful big sister."

"Sure, Mom," you agreed, your voice barely audible. As you spoke, William appeared in the hallway, his chilling gaze locked onto yours. He wordlessly flashed two sonograms – one of your mom's baby, the other of your own – before placing a finger to his lips, warning you to stay silent. You had to be quiet; you knew that much.

"Of course, I'll help you, Mom," you reassured her, forcing a smile. "Because I am young and strong."

Her eyes softened, and she reached out to squeeze your hand. "Thank you, sweetheart," she murmured.

Suddenly, you felt a flutter within your belly – a small kick from the life growing inside you. Your eyes turned wide as you prayed no one had seen it. Your mom’s eyes were still soft and focused on your face. But your stepdad’s cold blues had darted down to your stomach.

As your mom left the room, William's sinister presence lingered in the doorway, then vanished.

How long could you keep this little life hidden?

~

AN: For more, follow me (:

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[vasito-de-leche]

I was wondering... I've been reading the self-aware au and I wonder if Manus Vindictae is also aware of the player— How does Forget Me Not even react to the concept of the player too if he's ever self-aware of it? A human who calls the shots on the story progressing (clearing levels) and also the one who beats his ass in battle (i had to insight 2 level 20 my arcanists to beat him under 10 turns in hard mode)

Can he hear the player? Can he see them? (I tend to gush over him whenever he speaks, I repeat the scenes he's in 😭 i miss him sm in the story) sorry for all these questions!!! Im so curious of self-aware aus and how they work and yours particularly was REALLY good

;R1999 FORGET ME NOT - Self Aware AU

Headcanons about Forget Me Not within the Self Aware AU.

this is a very good opportunity to think about non-playable characters within the game, actually! ty for the ask o7

there was someone who commented on one of my self-aware posts saying it was kind of like analog horror and I agree lolol

I vaguely remember mentioning that the requirements needed in order to be aware of the Player's existence were to either reach a 100% bond and/or to be exposed to Vertin's constant presence.

Forget Me Not, as an NPC with little to no actual relevant weight in the grand scheme of things (he is only relevant during the 1929 arc as of now) doesn't meet any of these requirements, so I don't think he'd be aware of the player!

His self-awareness is limited to knowing the world around him is fake, which fuels his self-deprecating and self-defeating, deranged, depressing mindset. I like to imagine Forget Me Not doesn't even understand that the world he lives in is a game, he just knows it's fake and that no matter what he does or says, no one will truly remember. Things will inexplicably reset or loop, and even so, he's not aware of the many times he's been forced to battle Vertin and the others because the Player had to grind specific materials. And so on and so forth. In his eyes, the "high power" that could attempt to control this empty world would be Arcana and no one else--after all, she's the one who opened his eyes to the truth through indoctrination.

When it comes to the figure of the Player, I wanted to portray an extremely obscure and detached figure. Vertin herself can't even fully wrap her head around the Player's existence, she doesn't even know if you're human--if the protagonist, the character "closest" to the Player is still left in the dark about these aspects, imagine how it is for other characters who don't have the privilege of acting your will, of being your hands and eyes. Sonetto can't even get a proper look at the Player, she still needs an insane amount of time lingering around Vertin to become more attuned to this somewhat eldritch entity tied to her. Characters of "equal" importance to Vertin, such as Arcana, may be able to perceive the Player in their own unique ways just like her, but everyone else? They need these special cases to even notice such a presence. Vertin is your only link to this world. You're the one looking in, this is a one-way mirror and only a very select few can look into the abyss and realize that something -someone else- is out there, staring back.

Like, of course I'll make exceptions or bend the rules if people request direct interactions between a character and the Player, but if we're talking about the setting as it is, then this is how I picture it.

Can he hear or see the Player? Nope. He doesn't have the means to. He doesn't even know they exist.

Forget Me Not feels superior with his self-awareness, gloating about how he's not like the common rubble who goes on about their day, entirely blind to the horrors. And yet, he's not aware of his limited perception of the world. It's very ironic, the way he looks down on others for the very same crime he's guilty of: obliviousness. Forget Me Not believes everyone outside of Manus Vindictae is too dumb, too unworthy of the freedom that comes with self-awareness. But really, this is just the blind leading the blind at the end of the day. Within Manus Vindictae, we only have Arcana and Forget Me Not as important characters, so it's hard for me to make a proper frame of reference, but overall I think that only Arcana is fully self-aware. Everyone else's perception of reality are equal or slightly inferior to Forget Me Not.

I think this falls in line with his modus operandi, so to speak! The way he believes he truly understands how things are, while turning his back on reality at the same time because he can't take it. He's too delusional, too unstable and frail to acknowledge that he may not be right, that he may be just as lost as when he first opened his eyes, that Vertin, someone so utterly disconnected from his ideals and morals and views, is the "chosen one."

As usual, Forget Me Not prefers to live a lie an double down on his usual habits than realize he always had the chance to change for the better and he just never had the courage to take that road.

How would he react upon finding out the Player's existence and their opinion on him?

I don't know the specifics around how exactly he finds out this piece of information, but either way, Forget Me Not would probably be shaken to his core! This isn't an easy pill to swallow in the slightest. You have to understand that every single time you beat him in battle, he 100% believed it was all Vertin's prowess.

How was he supposed to know she had someone guiding her? How was any of this fair?

Essentially, Forget Me Not has to confront the fact that all of his struggles, all the constant fighting and every conscious choice he's made to further ruin his life, were predetermined, already set in stone by forces beyond his comprehension. It's both freeing and claustrophobic, especially for a character like him who revels in misery and his status as an underdog earning his vengeance. He's done so much, he's worked so hard to get to where he is, and sure, his life is far from ideal, he's still the same self-destructive man, but now you're telling him that this was what the world planned from the very beginning? He had no say in anything? Someone out there decided that he was meant to be like this, and even after gaining self-awareness, he wasn't good or strong enough to break away from the script--in fact, he played right into someone else's trap.

I feel like Forget Me Not, at this point, would continue to do the only thing he knows: he doubles down. He redirects all of his hatred and all of his feelings towards the figure of the Player, if only to justify his existence--he can't live as a free man, he can't be seen as a living being worthy of respect because the plot commands it, he doesn't know where his own conscience begins and where the script and dialogue he's meant to say ends. So he might as well keep digging his own grave.

He loathes the Player more than anything else, because if there was no one to play this game, none of this would've happened in the first place. He fully blames you for every single thing, no matter how big or small. Everything that is wrong with his life can be traced to the person booting up this goddamn game every single day.

And if he learns that you replay each cutscene that he's in, he takes that as an offense.

This is just cruel mockery to Forget Me Not--not only you're the reason he's turned into such a miserable excuse of a man, but now you've turned him into your personal little jester, to sing and dance for your entertainment.

If he finds out that you hate him? That's good, it's a mutual feeling and it makes this tantrum he's throwing much more easier to deal with. But if he finds out that he's your favorite character? It kills him from the inside. How dare you?

His voice gets sharper, more visceral--every word is drenched with such profound hatred that you, from your side of the screen, can't help but think that Forget Me Not's voice actor is doing such a great job! And the artstyle is so good, his expressions look so real!

I can also see Forget Me Not eventually struggle with the fact that the Player loves him and sees him as their favorite character. It's not as easy and straightforward as hating you anymore--he doesn't even know you. He doesn't even know what to trust anymore.

Given how depressing he can be, I think he may latch onto the Player? The rug keeps being pulled from under his feet each and every time, but your existence, as awful and mysterious and controversial as it may be, is real. You're real. I have a lot of thoughts about this specific dynamic, but I'll leave them for another post so this one doesn't end up being suuuper long lol

On the subject of finding out that the Player is a human.

This one is easy! If someone were to tell Forget Me Not that the Player, the bane of his existence, is a human, then he'll just be in denial about it!

I really just like the idea of Forget Me Not having no means whatsoever to interact with the Player, it makes things so much more frustrating for him. Of course this means that everything he does know come from third-parties. And this piece of information is an extra layer of stress that he can't physically process at the same time as everything else in regards to his self-awareness, so he chooses to ignore it. To debate it. To simply deny it.

What, is he just supposed to believe everything he's told about you now? He can't even perceive you properly, let alone understand the sort of creature you are and your influence on this world--for all he knows, the people claiming to see and talk to you are all liars! All of his informants and spies could just be dead wrong, they may have misheard something on the way!

You can't be human, because he can't take another blow to his pride like this. It's humiliating enough to be played like a fiddle in such a way, Forget Me Not doesn't even want to think about the possibility of this small, fake world being at the mercy of a human--part of the very same group that caused him so much pain over the years.

[whywhaatt]

"hey i'm bored" (isaacwhy x reader)

-

word count: 2.028

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, hand kink(kinda), degrading, light choking

a/n: this is my first fic😜 i didnt proof read it yet so hopefully i didn't misspell anything too badly

-

10 hours. 10 hours of sitting at this desk and playing on my computer. I've gone through almost every app or game that I have downloaded. I've checked every social media, watched the newest uploads of my friends, and I even read a random wikipedia article. It's around 2am now. I need to go to sleep. After turning off my computer, and taking my headset off and hanging it on the monitor, I walk towards my bed and grab my phone from my nightstand.

1:59 AM... god damn. I gotta fix my sleep schedule. Nahhh I know I won't. The lack of sleep is kicking in, it feels like 5 minutes go by of me just staring at my lock screen. Turns out it was just 30 seconds cus my phone automatically turned off. It takes me a minute to realize it, but the only reason I do is cus a notification pops up.

"wassup" - isaac💀

tf... it's 2am?!? Why is he texting me?

~

isaac: wassup

me: heyy

isaac: sorry it's late. im bored

me: bro i just laid down💀💀

isaac: can i come over? larry and tanner and annoying tf outa me rn

me: telling them you said that🗣️🗣️

isaac: bro pls. ion know if it's cus im tired but y'know how it is. i just need to get out of the house

me: yeah ion care, just let me know when you're here

isaac: bet

~

That was random, I guess Isaac's coming over now. He's been over before, but not like this. What if something happens? I'm probably just over thinking this. Am I shaved? Yeah, I'll be fine.

~

isaac: i'm here😜

isaac: weird emoji sorry

~

"Thanks for letting me come over, I needed to get out of the house" Isaac said, sitting down on my couch.

"Honestly, if I with all of those people I would have to leave all the time. So glad I live alone".

"Yeah well, I love them. It would be weird being away from them after this long of dealing with their shit." Isaac said, "So, what are we going to do"? I didn't think about that. I kinda just panicked for 10 minutes while he was driving here.

"I don't know, we could watch a movie or something?" I ask while tossing him the remote, "Move over, this isn't your apartment. I wanna sit". I sat down not too far away, but Isaac scutched closer and wrapped his free arm around me. His other hand had the remote in it, just scrolling through shit on Hulu.

"YO YOU'VE BEEN WATCHING CHAINSAW MAN"

"GOD ISAAC I HAVE NEIGHBORS"

"Oh shit sorry, I love Chainsaw Man. Have you seen me wearing that mask. I look so good in it man, look here I'll show you-". I had to cut him off.

"Isaac, I've seen the photo like 20 times. As much as I love how you look in it, I'm not looking at it again."

"Shut up and look at it" He holds my chin, forcing me to look at the picture on his phone. Damn. He is hot. I'm speechless. The fact his hand can easily grab my face like this, I wonder what else they can do. Looking up at him, my cheeks start to get hot a little bit. This eye contact is painful. I need this to go to more. My hand goes to the back of his neck, our faces slowly inching towards eachother. There's a pause, almost like we realized what is happening.

I close the distance. Just a light kiss, short and simple, but we both need more. Immediately, Isaac's hand pulls me in.

"God.. I-I need... you" I moan in between kisses. Isaac pulls back, and I whine at the loss of contact.

"What?"

"I can't tell if I'm just tired, but I need you so badly. Please Isaac." I am begging. BEGGING. For this man.

"You're so pathetic." He says right before kissing me again, this time more passionately, and his hand moving towards my neck. He squeezes softly, making sure it wasn't too much for me. I'm a moaning mess.

"Do you want to move to your bed?" Isaac questions before picking me up bridal style and carrying me towards my bedroom. My arms are wrapped around his neck while I'm looking up at him. I'm just looking at his eyes, he's so beautiful. He sets me down by the foot of me bed, so I'm standing with my arms around his neck. I always knew he was taller than me, but the height different is crazy. He looks twice my height, and he's still bending over to kiss me.

"Baby, go lay down. I'll take care of you". I almost moaned when I heard that. The things I would let this man do to me is insane, ever since I've met him the list has been getting longer and longer.

I'm laying down my bed, when suddenly my feet are pulled and my legs are dangling off the side. Isaac takes his sweet time pulling down my Nike shorts, teasing me slightly over my panties. I need him to hurry up and get straight to the point cus this is unbearable. Again, he slowly takes off my panties and just barely touches my pussy. The tiniest bit of contact makes me shiver and whine for more.

And like that, Isaac's eyes look up at me as he starts eating me out. He keeps looking and studying my every reaction until he gets the one he wants out of me. Remember when I asked what his hands could do? Well, I found out. As his tongue is focused on my clit, he slowly puts two fingers into my hole. I have to cover my mouth with my hand so I don't scream.

With his fingers thrusting in and out of me and his tongue working wonders on my clit, I know I won't last long like this. My eyes are stuck shut, with one hand over my mouth and the other holding his hair back. My thighs are practically crushing Isaac's head at this point.

"Isaac, I cant" I'm panting in between moans, "I'm so close". As I finish my sentence, everything stops. I whine and whimper, needing more stimulation.

Isaac moves from below my torso to standing at the foot of my bed. He slips his shirt over his head, leans down and puts me back into the spot I was before. Then continues to undress himself right before me. His body is gorgeous. I cant stop staring at him as he gets on top of me, kissing me softly. I can taste myself on his lips.

He breaks the kiss and slides my shirt over my head, exposing my chest. The cold air hit me all of a sudden, making me shiver for a little bit. It feels weird to be fully exposed to Isaac. The closest we've ever gotten to this is almost kissing on New Year's, but we both realized we've just had a little too much to drink and we backed off. I guess Isaac notices me thinking, cus he stops everything and looks down at me.

"Babe, you okay? You can tell me to stop at anytime, I want you to be comfortable" he says, it was the most serious he's sounded all night (well I guess morning). "We can stop if you'd like, I'm sorry I rushed all of this-"

"No keep going, I just got lost in my thought. Thank you for caring for me, Isaac." I pause my sentence to kiss his lips softly, "I'm having a good time". Isaac nodded and continued kissing my neck, leaving little marks every now and again. His hand creeped up, massaging my left breast, and his mouth making his way towards my right. When his tongue made contact with my nipple, I let out a slight moan and let my eyes close softly. My brain feels fuzzy, probably from the lack of sleep, but I love it. It feels like I'm high, but in the cringy "high on life" way.

"I have a condom in my nightstand" I blurt out, "but I'm on the pill so if you don't have anything you can go without it". His head perks up from my chest, looking almost as excited as a kid in a candy store.

"Really?" he asks excitedly. Yup, exactly like a kid. I nod my head yes and Isaac immediately moves to get himself into position. He lines himself up, looking up at me in my eyes, and slowly inserts himself into me. Both of our mouths fly open, releasing a string of moans and whines. Isaac was bigger than I expected, but he feels so good inside of me.

After a couple of second of staying still so I can get used to his size, Isaac starts to move. My hands move to hold on to Isaac's shoulders as he slowly moves in and out of me. I push his head down to kiss me to try and muffle my moans, but it barely does anything.

"Faster, please, please go faster" I beg, with our faces so close we're practically sharing breathes. His pace speeds up and my head relaxes back into the pillow. I can feel myself getting closer and closer by the second.

The room is filled with random moans or praises from either one of us, not being able to hear anything else. If Isaac didn't wake my neighbors earlier, then they're definitely awake now. Honestly, I could care less if I get a noise complaint.

"Isaac- Oh my- I'm- I'm getting close" I moan out between breathes. His hand moves from behind me to my neck, lightly choking me. My mouth flies open from the new pressure on my neck. Isaac, seeing the opportunity, takes over my mouth. Inserting his tongue and immediately dominates my mouth. I'm being so loud right now, and I don't care.

"Isaac, I'm about to- I'm 'bout to cum. Please Isaac. Oh my god please." I gasp out with the air I have.

"Do it. Cum for me, baby. You're so amazing" Isaac moans into my ear, loosening his grip on my neck a little. My nails digging so far into his back, they could leave scars. My head flies back, eyes rolling to the back of my head, and toes curl. A wave of pleasure rolls over my body as I cum with Isaac still going inside of me.

"Just a little bit more, baby, hold on for me. Please baby, you're doing so good for me." Isaac lets out as his hand lets go to steady himself on the bed, getting the pace back to how he needs it. While overstimulated, I try my best to hold tight for Isaac.

He's close. I can tell. Not too much longer, Isaac comes inside of me. All of his body weight crushed on top of me, feeling like a weighted blanket. A wave of praises came out of Isaac as he caught his breathe.

"Let's get you cleaned up"

-

After we took a very, very long and slow shower together, we laid down in bed together just cuddling.

"The house is asking where I'm at, Imma tell them I'm staying here for the night if thats okay with you" Isaac asks.

"Yeah, it's perfectly fine." I reply, "Random question, well two actually."

"Hit me."

"Okay so one: did you mean for this to end up like this? And was this technically a booty call or whatever?"

"Okay, first off I'm not liked that. But I realize it looks like it. Nah, I just wanted to hang out with you. It was just one of those late night and I'm bored situations"

"Okay, great, umm and two: what does this make us now?"

"Wow, umm.. hard question. I don't know. What do you want to be?"

"Maybe more than friends, I really like you Isaac." I confess, just staring into his eyes through the dark. He leans in and kisses me.

"Will you be with me?"

a/n: i hope you liked this:P my requests are currently open so make sure to leave some if you have any!!

[prettylittlels]

I Can See You

summary: You meet Rachel's costar at the academy gala, what will happen next? (tom blyth x actress!reader)

inspired by I Can See You (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

💋⚘️❤️‍🔥💥🍬💄

As an actress, I spend a 70% of my time meeting and interacting with actors, actresses, singers, directors, producers, and people who work in the same industry as i do. A 90% of those people are just passers, travelers that only visited my life. Only very few manage to stay, important enough to make me care for and about them: true friends. Like Rachel Zegler, for example. I met her at the 2022 Golden Globes afterparty, and we kicked off a nice friendship. And a rather weird one, might i add. Rach and I enjoy playing rather exquisite games: i make her try the most horrendous food i find, and she tries to find the perfect man for me.

-Rach, I already told you- i tell her, laughing without even trying - I've lost hope! You gotta accept that i don't have a love life!-

-You're lying to yourself! - she smiles with me- You think I haven't seen the way you look at every couple we meet?-

Maybe she was right. I haven't had a boyfriend in years, maybe I am a little touch-starved. But that was until I met him.

You brush past me in the hallway

And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya?

I've been watchin' you for ages

And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

As an actress, i spend a lot of time bring invited to galas and events. Tonights entertainment was the Academy's annual gala. I picked out a gorgeous black sparkly dress that caught everyones attention, as I imagined. Getting out lf the car, I slowly made my way to the red carpet, starting to pose for the flashing cameras. Shouts and screams came from everywhere i went. Not only for me, of course; in fact, thay were yelling Rachel's name too when i arrived. She came up to me and gave me a big hug, as we started to take pictures together. I also noticed that a certain co-star of hers, was looking our way. Don't you think I can't see you?

But what would you do if I went to touch you now?

What would you do if they never found us out?

What would you do if we never made a sound?

As an famous actress, I can't just do whatever I want and say whatever i please. The cameras are everywhere. But God, did I want to go talk to you.

'Cause I can see you waitin' down the hall from me

And I could see you up against the wall with me

And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?

That I can see you

As an actress, people expect me to be there when they need me, available for everyone and waiting for directions. But, only this time, I was waiting for something else to happen. When I walked down the hidden hallway on my way to the women's bathroom, you were there. I didn't want to do anything reckless! But here we are.

And we kept everything professional

But something's changed, it's somethin' I, I like

They keep watchful eyes on us

So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet

You won't believe half the things I see inside my head

Wait 'til you see half the things that haven't happened yet

Tom and I started dating shortly after the gala. Being with him was everything I needed: he's a gentleman, a caring person, a funny one, and of course, a very sexy one. The weeks passed and we were both as happy as ever. After the night we met, the cameras that caught our longing stares published the photos and the public strted going crazy, speculating and giving their opinion about our encounter. Oh, they have no idea.

That I could see you throw your jacket on the floor

I could see you make me want you even more

What would you do, baby, if you only knew?

That I can see you

They had no idea that how it was being In a relationship with tom. The envious fangirls wished they were me. They don't I know that I can see him for what he truly is. They don't know that I can see him discarding his clothes on the floor. Yes, even that leather jacket of his that I love so much

I could see you in your suit and your necktie

Passed me a note saying, "Meet me tonight"

Then we kiss, and you know I won't ever tell, yeah

And I could see you being my addiction

You can see me as a secret mission

Hide away and I will start behaving myself

I remember how I pulled you closer by your tie, and unbuttoned your shirt. How you admitted you've been watching me for ages. How we agreed to keep this a sceret, However, I knew he'd be like a drug. And I get drunk on it whenever he's around

I can see you.

I can see you, Tom.

[jennay]

Last Night

Part 1

Masterlist

Noah Sebastian x Reader

If I missed any tags or you want to be added to the list let me know!

Tags: @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @missduffsblog @thisbicc @yeehaw-my-guys @thescarlettvvitch @vinyardmauro @cheyyyyr @clubfairy @xxkittenkissesxx @lh3 @dominuslunae @myownthoughts12 @cookiesupplier @somewhere-diamond @bloody-delusion-expert @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @aprosiacperson @skulliecadaver-blog @bangchan-ed @hey-diddly-ho-neighborino @itsafullmoon

You leaned against your kitchen counter, staring out the kitchen window, watching as the leaves continued to fall from each branch on this peaceful autumn morning. You sipped your coffee, letting the liquid warm your chest and stomach.

You landed in Oregon three years ago and were just now becoming accustomed to the weird weather changes. You'd be lying if you said you didn't miss the California sun but had to go; you couldn't stay there. No matter how often you tell yourself you can move to a different part of the state, your heart will never be happy knowing your past is that close.

Reflecting on things, they seemed like a mixed bag of sweet and sour. It's all about the could-haves and the lessons you learn the hard way, with a bunch of 'what ifs' buzzing in your head.

You remember being on your grandma's porch, flipping through those old photo albums. Those moments are frozen in time, safe behind that shiny plastic. Every time you look at those pictures, you get this pang of nostalgia, wishing you could return to those carefree, pure days. It's like this little ache in your heart that knows you can't rewind the clock; you could never go back.

"You know, you can't go back and change the past, but you've got the pen when it comes to your future. Take what you've learned, keep moving forward, and make the best of right now—that's fine," she told you. "You've got this; you're a smart cookie."

You exhale heavily, setting down your coffee mug with a clink. There's this hollow feeling in your gut, and man, you wish she was here to talk to. You could use a dose of her wisdom right about now. Life's not bad, honestly. You have a decent job and a cool apartment you share with your best bud. It's not like you've got significant stuff to gripe about. But there's this gap, you know? And deep down, you know it's about love. You've built these walls so high that no one's getting over them to hurt you again. No way.

So you've been playing the field, treating hearts like they're just another game. But it's not just a game anymore, is it? It started as a laugh, something you thought you could switch off whenever. But time's a sneaky thief; before you know it, you're looking at someone pretty damaged in the mirror.

And these games?

They've turned into habits, the kind of habits you don't shake off, the kind that people go to therapy for...the kind that your grandma warned you about.

The sound of vibration on the counter drags you from your thoughts, and you glance to the side, seeing your phone light up with Jolly's face plastered on the screen and the name Jolly Green Giant above it. You let out a small laugh every time he calls. The picture...the name. It's suitable for him.

You press the phone to your ear and tap the answer button, a reflexive smile spreading across your face. "Hey there, sunshine!" you greet with genuine warmth.

"Wow, you picked up!" Jolly's voice comes through, his accent coloring every word like an artist's brush on canvas.

"Caught me at a good time," you reply, leaning back against the kitchen counter. Your mind's eye paints a vivid picture of Jolly's familiar expressions. What's going on?" you inquire, keeping the tone light.

He takes a slight pause, the kind that signals something's coming. "So, we're here, in town, for that show tomorrow, remember? The one I've been talking about?" He sounds hopeful, as if willing to remember.

A nod, though he can't see it, and a whispered curse. "Shit. It slipped my mind."

He laughs, the sound teasing yet affectionate. "I should've bet on it, but hey, how about we make up for it? I'm free in an hour—how about you?"

A chuckle escapes you, the situation all too familiar. "Let me guess, time for our annual 'what's new and crazy' session?" You play along. "Just downed a coffee, but when have I ever said no to more caffeine?"

His laughter rings clear, a sound that's always been a prelude to good times. "Thought you'd say that. But let's switch it up and grab some lunch. I'm starving, and I bet you skipped breakfast again, didn't you?"

You laugh, "Yeah, I'm ready for lunch. Send me the address of where you want to meet."

"See you soon."

Your smile widens as you approach the restaurant, and you spot Jolly through the glass. He's engrossed in the menu, a picture of patience as he waits for you.

Anticipation bubbles within you, mixed with a flutter of nerves. You know it will be like old times, and he'll have many stories to tell you, but there won't be an awkward moment.

Pushing open the door, you walk over to the booth, his back to you. Stealthily, you slide up beside him, hovering until his gaze locks yours. His smile bursts, a warmth flooding his body—part of him had the sneaky suspicion you might duck out, but here you are.

He shuffles to make space, a silent invitation to join him. Then, in a move as natural as breathing, he pulls you into a bear hug, his head cradled against yours. "You made it!" he exclaims, his voice a mix of joy and disbelief.

Your laughter combines with his, and the embrace feels warm and safe. "You thought I'd miss this? Not for the world," you assure him, the ease of your friendship wrapping around you like the coziest blanket. "You look amazing." As you pull away and observe him, you say, "How do you never age?"

He shrugs you off and slides a menu in front of you.

"I think you're blind."

You laugh giggling as you order your food. You stand up. "I need to pee."

"Thank you for that." Jolly teases.

The fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you leave the bathroom, casting a sterile glow on the floor. The bathroom was supposed to be a brief escape from the diner's noise, a momentary pause from the laughter and clinking dishes.

But now, as you walk back to your seat, your heart clenches. He is bathed in the cold blue light of his phone screen, his face illuminated by a FaceTime call.

And then, the voice on the other end of the line—a voice you recognize all too well—cuts through.

His laughter dances in the air, a cruel melody that grates against your raw nerves.

"Who are you with?" The words hang in the air like a blade, slicing through the fragile bubble of denial you've carefully constructed.

You sit down, and your legs are suddenly weak.

Jolly turns the phone toward you, and there it is—the face you've been avoiding, the face that haunts your dreams. Noah. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now hold a storm of emotions: regret, longing, and something darker, something you can't quite name.

Your eyes blur with unshed tears. Why does it hurt so much? You thought you'd moved on, stitched up the wounds he left behind. But seeing him again, hearing his voice—it's as if the scars have split open, bleeding again.

"Fuck," you whisper, the word a prayer and a curse.

Jolly's oblivious, still laughing, unaware of the raging within you. You tear your gaze away from the screen, focusing on the flickering candle at your table.

You won't let this unravel you, not today. Not when you've worked so hard to rebuild the fragile scaffolding of your heart.

You stand up, pushing your chair in with a force that startles the people near by. The room blurs around you as you make your way to the exit. Memories flood your mind—the stolen kisses, the whispered promises, the nights tangled in each other's arms. But alongside the sweetness, there's bitterness—the lies, the betrayal, the shattered trust.

And Jolly, your supposed friend, the one who knew your pain intimately, who witnessed your tears and held your hand through sleepless nights—why would he put you in this position? Why would he expose you to the hurricane of Noah's presence?

Outside, the air is cool against your flushed cheeks. You take a deep breath, tasting salt and regret. The sky above seem distant, indifferent. You wrap your arms around yourself, a feeble attempt to hold the pieces together. But the ache remains a phantom limb that refuses to fade.

You walk away, leaving behind laughter and Facetime calls, leaving behind Jolly and Noah. The door closes softly behind you, muffling the sounds of the music and chatter. And as you step into the gloomy cold air, you wonder if healing is a myth, if love is a beautiful lie, and if betrayal is the only truth that matters.

[rg-bugs]

Lost in the moon

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Sun/Moon X reader

Word count: 2521

Summary:

You decide to check out the daycare where you meet Sun, after the daycare closes you leave. But you gets lost and don't exit the Plex in time and get looked in. You end up meeting Moon and try asking him for help

Notes:

I got lazy with the ending cuz this fic took me nine days to write and I've had enough with it, so enjoy

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You stroll around the pizza plex enjoying the overpriced pizza, arcade games and various attractions that the place has to offer. At one point you got lost in the pizza Plex, but you got help from one of the glam rocks and at the same time you also got the chance to take a picture with them, which in all honesty was quite nice of them. Though you're terrible with names. (But you do remember them being a chicken with green earrings). Was it Sheikah? Sheek? Oh It was Chicka! Chicka the chicken! Even if your day was filled with exciting activities, you could not help yourself but to feel disappointed and isolated. Even surrounded by people constantly throughout the day, it fell short of what you had hoped for.

As the sun's light begins to dissipate, you find yourself meandering through the expansive building, observing as people gradually depart as the bustling crowds disperse. With less than an hour left until closing you start to make your way to the daycare. It was the only place you hadn't looked at yet today. And in addition, since the daycare closes an hour earlier than everything else, you believe that there will be an absence of strangers staring daggers at you, and wondering why a random adult is there, though you thought of it more reminiscent of a curious child exploring.

You don't do too well with copious amounts of crowds surrounding you for the entire day. So you need a quiet place to sit down for a bit to get your self level headed from the day. You know the two characters that work in the daycare, Sun and Moon. You have seen their posters here and there plastered on the walls. If you were going to be honest for a little while you thought that their names were Sundrop and Moondrop, but no, it's the candy they advertise.

You enter the daycare and you start to hear funky but kinda nice music. you start to bop to it slightly, and it makes you feel slightly better. You tread quietly up to the metal fence next to a slide where it said ´slide in to fun!´. You looked down at the play area and at first glance you saw two large jungle gyms connected with a bridge and a ball pit. Man you wished this was the daycare you went to when you were a kid, because this looked amazing this could easily be any kids dream come true. But your train of thought was interrupted by the feeling that it felt like something was staring at you but you can't pinpoint where it's coming from, so you just shrug it off as anxiety. You make your way down to the lower level of the daycare to sit on one of the benches to rest before you start making your way out of the Pizza Plex.

You have your back turned away from the big daycare doors as they fling open and you freeze in shock as you hear a loud chery voice behind you. "Why hello there friend! All the kids have already been picked up. So what concern do you have here to be here at such a late hour?" You berated yourself for forgetting that there are two daycare andents, of course they'd still be active. You turn your torso around slowly to face who is behind you, having both legs firmly rooted into the floor. As you turn you see a very tall robot with eyes that are chalk white and triangles around his head designed to look like sun rays. He had a big smile, and hands stretched to his sides and stood there with a mighty posture looming over you.

"I-" you took a deep breath to try to get the words out of your mouth as he stood there patiently with both of his hands clasped together. "I just wanted to get away from the crowds for a bit. I didn't mean to disturb or anything- I can leave if you want me to." At that last part you lift up your hands in a nervous mock surrender. "Oh no you are welcome to stay, we were just curious as to why you were here. We thought that maybe you took a wrong turn and got lost or something." He started to sway on his feet rocking back and forth, seeming to hold back his excitement that would explode like a balloon any second now. He suddenly stops standing on his tippy toes; "Oh how rude of me! I forgot to introduce myself, my name is Sun! And what would yours be?" turning his head to the side out of curiosity. Your body fully turned towards him and were more relaxed. This seems to have pleased Sun. You told him your name, plain and simple. You did wonder however, he said"we "a bit earlier, but there was only one animatronic in front of you. You wanted to ask him where Moon was. Maybe he was inside cleaning or was just shy.

"Where is Moon? I would like to say hello to him too." You say it a bit too nonchalantly. He lets out a nervous chuckle and plops down from being on the tips of his toes. "Well he’s only out when the pizza plex is closed as security. Sorry to disappoint." He slouches down a bit but quickly perks up and says. "BUT! I can say hi to him from you, does that sound good?" He starts to fidget with his hands. It was nice to converse with Sun and it helps to distract you from the day. Your legs were aching from exhaustion and you just wanted a place to collapse and catch your breath "Yeah i think that would be nice. Well I'm going to go and sit down somewhere now. It was nice meeting you." You wave him goodbye as you turn away. "Goodbye! The pizza plex closes in thirty minutes!" He waves goodbye and the bells on his wrist jingle. You give him a thumbs up without turning. You feel a small gust of wind hit you as he closes the heavy doors in one swift motion.

You have your gaze on a seat with a table, you speed walk towards it and slump down. Resting your head on your arms as you let out a sigh of fatigue. You allow your mind to wander and overanalyze everything that you've done today to every minute detail, like how you fumbled on that mini golf ting and lost your grip on the golf club and it fell into the indoors river, or how you could not control the gocart properly and jerking forward trying to workout how it works, or how you needed the staff to get you out of a labyrinth designed FOR KIDS! Your spiraling thoughts were broken by the speaker announcing that they close in five minutes and something about a free drink voucher that you could get.

You lift up your head and blink away the sleepiness. You start making your way to the exit of the daycare, not paying attention to where you were walking. You wander and take a turn and… you are not at the entrance gate. You definitely took a wrong turn somewhere to end up at the theater. You couldn't do one thing correctly today it seems. The way back had stairs not a corridor. You start to backtrack back to the daycare slightly panicking. Now speed walking out of the theater and going towards the stairs. You hear a concerned voice "Hello again! I can tell that you're lost, it’s just to go up those stairs and take a left and there's the entrance gate, it's impossible to miss it. You only have like two minutes so you better run" You turned to look at the door that was slightly cracked open and Sun's head was peeking through looking worried. Wow that's a way to rub it in that you had the sense of direction of an egg (or like Zoro from One piece).

Your mouth turns into a line as you have to bite your tongue to not say something snarky like ´yeah, no shit sherlock´ or ´wow this is life changing information´ he was just trying to help you. So instead you opted for a simple thanks with a tired smile and told him ´goodnight, rest well.´ "I hope you do too, it looks like you need it. Goodbye!" he slid back in and closed the door. You really must have looked tired, and you were tired too. You just wanted to get home and sleep. You continued to speed walk up the stairs and took a left. You hear the lights turn off in an ominous voom. You stand still so your eyes try to adjust to the sudden darkness you found yourself in. You eventually got adjusted to the dim neon lights that came in different arrays of colors.

At that moment you realized that the Plex had closed. You looked at the entrance and saw the shutters were down. You were too tired to panic, you were just pissed at yourself now. “Great, Now I'm stuck in here. Unless I get staff to help me”. You opted for Sun's help because you knew at least where he was. You sigh and turn on your heel harshly. As you approach the entrance you don't hear the music playing, it's way too quiet for your liking. You see that the daycare is pitch black, but you continue. You aggressively walk down the stairs and yell out "Sun are you there? I got locked in and I would like to go home and sleep. Please can you help me?" You are met with silence. You were starting to get annoyed (not at Sun just that you didn't want to go into the play area looking for him). You go up to tug on the door and it won't budge, it's locked. You remember that he told you that Moon is security and maybe he was nearby, ( you assumed he would probably have the daycare as his starting point).

You let go of the handle and groan as you pinch your nose bridge, feeling as you felt an annoying headache creeping in. "Moon! Are you nearby? I kinda need help" you yell out.

No answer. You hear a soft jingle of bells. "Where are you?" you mutter under your breath thinking it is Sun making the noise. As you look to the side trying to see movement through the darkness in the play area. No luck, nothing is there. You hear a raspy voice next to your ear whispering "Behind you."

"MOTHER OF JESUS!" You screamed out. You jumped, turning around to see the fucker, whispering in your ear, next to you. It was a blue and white animatronic, it had a wire from its back to the ceiling, hanging upside down like Spiderman does. It has red eyes and a starry night cap with a big sharp smile on its face. Ah this must be Moon. You were eye to eye, just staring at him while he chuckled in amusement. You tried to muster up courage and put on your best smile, but you still sounded shaky in your voice. "Um… are you Moon? If so, can I get some help?" He pauses and his eyes turn pitch black, his head flips around to be right side up with his body still upside down. His smile flattens and eyes are wide open and he is too close for comfort. You swallow the lump in your throat. You took a deep breath and said "I got lost and now I'm locked in." You had your arms crossed and had your weight on one leg as the adrenalin had started to dissipate, as you look in his eyes you can see red pupils staring right back.

His body started to get down to stand on the floor, the wire detaching and going up to where you can't see it, but his face remained in the same spot. He let out a small chuckle and started to smile again as he rose to his full height. He was just as tall and intimidating as Sun was. Looking down at you he said "You are an intriguing one." You paused for a bit, you were confused at his response "Thank you, I guess?" tilting your head to the side. He turns around and starts walking away from you, but stops when he realizes that you're not following and he gestures to follow him. You start to follow him, pleased that you're getting help.

”So, where is Sun? He was in the daycare a few minutes ago.” He turns to look at you and what sounded like him taking a sharp inhale to say something, but he stops himself from doing so. He looks displeased. He thinks for a moment as both of you walk up the stairs and take a turn. “We share the same body, if the lights are on Sun is out, if the lights are turned off I am the one who is out.” He states begrudgingly. You think to yourself that that's quite cool at first, but you realize it must be torment to be in the same body. “Can I ask one more question?” you look up at him, he looks annoyed “why are you asking persimmon now? You didn't before” he said with bewilderment. “Is it like a nap for the one who is not active?”

As you have almost reached the doors he stops for a bit now being behind you and says "Didn't your parents teach you not to trust strangers?" He chuckles. "Oh har har funny joke, it’s obvious that you are Moon right. right?" You turn back to look at him and you see nothing. You hear the creaking noise of the shutters opening. But at the moment you don't care, you were wondering where (THE FUCK) Moon went, and he was avoiding the queston. You look around yourself up at the ceiling and consider walking around and looking behind things, but you were technically trespassing at this point so it's good to not stay any longer. Especially with what he just said, and you ain't taking any chances. You probably pissed him off with that question. You cup your hands around your mouth and yell out "Thank you Moon! Goodnight." And that was it, you opened the glass door and out of the Pizza Plex.

The metal shutters don’t close immediately until youre a small distance away. You look behind you to watch it close and you see an upside down head peeking thru with completely red glowing eyes. As the shutters slowly descend you see Moon waving you goodbye, a bit surprised to see him you wave back until you can't see each other anymore. You might come back and visit, those two were intriguing too. But for now you just need to get home and sleep.

[montimer]

John Doe (Joker) x reader

I would have never written this if my friend doesn't show me the game. I've been avoiding it cuz of the ship but now i fell for yet another ver of joker. The bruce x selina in the game is so darn cute tho^^ ty friend

Gn!reader

____________________________

Sitting at a restaurant with John in front of you. He had a wide smile on his face, just happy to be here, with you.

He has been having issues with expressing his love towards Harley. If he'd asked you you'd say shes no good for him. But you didn't wanted to break the poor guys heart.

He had asked you many questions including dating.

"Why should i answer that? Im not Harley"

"Just, just try please, i know you're good with impressions!"

Sighting but you gave in. He gave out a chuckle.

"If i brough you a flower would you like it? Would a poem be too much? What should i even say? What should i start the conversation with?"

You tried your best answering them. He usually gave you a nod or asked you to explain further.

After too many questions you stopped him.

"You know i think you should just be yourself..."

"But how? If i don't even know who i am.."

"If you keep pretending to be something you're not, you're gonna get tired of it. It won't feel natural ya know? If you be yourself, it'll have this comfortable feeling to it. Like you don't have to try too hard to be something ur not. You wouldn't want someone to fall in love with just a pretend. I think ur sweet and caring John. You deserve love"

He stared at you, almost surprised?

"Im sure you'll find yourself. Who you ment to be"

"W-wow, if i could blush i would!"

You just smiled at him

"Thanks a lot really! You always know what to say, im so happy. I want to be as wise as you one day!"

He got up and went over to hug you. You just petted his shoulders. Poor guy, he deserves better than anyone in that rotten Pack. Even if you were part of it.

_______________________________

He made you feel kind of warm inside..He did take pictures of you and hanged them around his room.

He sure isn't shy to be loud about his love. But is it really just friendship he wants?

He stared at you often. He is always so happy to see you, waving and yelling hi at you.

He could yap for hours. What he loved so much about you is that you would always listen.

When a mission was on he'd already made the decision that hes going with you. He would think it was natural.

He loves spending activities with you. He'll remember all your interests.

The guy sometimes follows you around like a lost puppy.

Your smile made him feel all warm and fuzzy. He loves to stay in your presence

He loved to see you fight, it get his adrenalin pumping.

He wanted to impress you so bad. With his jokes, with his 'strength'. With his colourful sense of style..

He did feel uneasy whenever someone got a bit too close to you. You're his best friend not theirs! He just couldn't figure out that what he felt was jealousy.

He wouldn't deny the fact that you're quite handsome/pretty.

Oh could it be? He slowly placed the puzzles together in his head. Maybe, maybe he did wanted to be more than friends. But would you return his love? Is he good enough for you?

Thats it, he gotta make the perfect plan so you'll fall in love with him for sure! Oh he can't wait, to hold,kiss and hug you.

[hermslore]

Tolerate it | Xavier Thorpe x Reader

You and Xavier have been dating for a while and it was all fun in the beginning but slowly, you can see him falling for Wednesday and ignoring you. When you confront him about it, he dismisses it like it was nothing. Warning : Angst Inspo : Tolerate It by Taylor Swift

You sit and watch him draw pictures of this monster. You wake and watch him breathing with his eyes closed. You sit and watch him do so many things, painting, archery, whatever other passion he has. You support him despite him having mental health problems, you make sure he goes to therapy, has his homework done. You care so much about him, but he doesn't. Not anymore. You've seen him hanging around Wednesday instead of you, watched him try and impress her knowing he has a girlfriend. You don't blame Wednesday, she's rejected him many times too. You've been so miserable, he hasn't even noticed, until Bianca told him about it. "Xavier, what the hell are you doing? You have a girlfriend, why are you going after Wednesday, do you even care about Y/n?" She confronted him. It's not just Wednesday, he basically ignores you now. You wait by the door like you're just a kid, waiting for him to come to his shed so that you can show him your paintings. You use your best colors for his portrait but he doesn't care. He's always out with his friends or with Wednesday, ignores you half the time, treats you like shit, but you still can't let go. You greet him with a battle hero's welcome whenever he comes back to his dorm. "Xavier, are you okay?" you say, concern lacing your tone. He looked so stressed and you just wanted to understand him better, but no. He yet again ignored you. "Can you stop bothering me, Y/n? Can't you see I have a life unlike someone here," he said. That made you snap. "You know what, asshole? I'm done. I'm done with you and your stupid games, you can't treat me right, then I'm leaving," you said, getting up and gathering your things. "Wh- What do you mean? You can't leave!" he said, looking at you for the first time in what felt like years. "I've tried, really hard to be your girlfriend, Xavier. It wasn't always like this, you took this dagger in me and removed it, you helped me out so much. But, while you're out building worlds where am I? Where's the man that threw blankets over my barbed wire? I feel like I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life. I'm always taking up too much space or time, so you know what? I'm done, we're done." Xavier just stared at you as you stormed out of the door, not making any efforts to call for you or go behind you. You were really disappointed in yourself for loving him for so long. You knew your love should be celebrated, but you watched him tolerate it.

[brainrotharlot]

Ok, so, I've been on holiday in Japan for a few days now. It's my first time in Japan and I'm having a great time. It's really amazing and just like any ol' weeb, I've been wanting to go there for years.

But especially, I've been looking for Arlong merch. 🦈

At first, I wasn't very lucky. I only managed to find cards from the one piece card game. I think I got every card with Arlong that exists, which is super neat. I even got the cards for super cheap, some of them were on sale. Poor old boy was so unwanted.

But when it came to actual merch, Arlong was nowhere to be found.

At every one piece or figurine shop we visited (There's so many of those everywhere), I couldn't find any Arlong merch. Shops often carried very obscure characters who I only vaguely remembered existed, but rarely any Arlong.

The only stuff I found were quite ugly. But since I couldn't find anything else, and I was holding a bet with my boyfriend on who would find merch of their favorite character first and bring it home, I still got them. I even took a small figurine of Luffy stomping Arlong 🙄

The good thing with loving random as characters is that you won't spend too much money on memorabilia, I suppose!

We were still checking most shops we came accross, mostly because it's fun, but I was still on the hunt. At this point, just finding a pin or a keychain with the official art instead of an ugly chibi would have been great, but no luck! 😮‍💨

Until...

Until!

I found this chunk of a hunk in a shop!

I don't think this pictures shows just how big and cool this guy is. He's gonna dwarf the figurines we already have at home. He's big enough to stomp on the small figurine of Luffy stomping Arlong. I'll take better pics when we're home.

He was taking a whole shelf row just for himself. I heard angels sing when I found him. I was in the middle of a sentence, complaining about not finding Arlong again when I spotted him. It was so funny.

The cashier also liked him a lot. We had a few items, but he stopped when scanning that big Arlong figurine, saying "woah, so cool!" and then said "sorry, man", when he put him in the shopping bag.

Also, look at how tiny his head is compared to the rest of his body! So little room for brains!

Anyway, I'm extatic to have found it! I wasn't hoping to find something so cool that's Arlong-related

I didn't think I would find anything to top this off.

And yet...

You guys aren't ready.

We walked past a shop that sold one piece underwear (yes, underwear).

And this mofo was staring right at us.

Yes, it's underwear, with Arlong's whole f*cking face on it.

It's ugly. It's beautiful. I love it.

Don't be so jealous!

[unseededtoast]

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Eight

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted!

Though he is a man of few words, his actions speak for his character.

Heading west, I keep walking through the night, though it's less than ideal. I take my time, wanting to stay quiet and undetected by both infected and people. The silence of the night allows my mind to mull over what I found today and how everything is supposed to fit together.

My mind can't seem to figure anything out that makes sense. The map is the only thing that makes the most sense to me. The notes, the game tallies, they all seem so odd but there has to be some connection. There has to be some reason these people were tasked with killing a specific age range of children in QZ's across the country. There has to be some reason they're connected to the Fireflies. I'm seeing bits and pieces of the picture, but not the full painting.

But what if this is all a bit bigger than I can take on? Am I walking myself right towards a death sentence? Maybe. Could I be making the wrong decision to go to Nebraska? Possibly.

The other alternatives are either to retreat back to the QZ and be stuck wondering for the rest of my life, or try to track down which QZ the others went to, and I could miss them and have wasted time. But if I guess which QZ they're going to next, I could possibly save more lives. I've never been good at gambling, and yet I find myself playing at the highest stakes.

Each step seems to take ten times the effort as normal as I consider my options, trying to see which is the most logical, which would give me the best odds of finding these people. As soon as I think I've made a decision, I second guess myself. It feels like there's no right decision to be made.

I stop walking in the middle of a street and stare straight up at the dark sky, the stars shining brightly down. If only they could give me the answer. The sound of a clicker in a nearby skyscraper gets me moving again, towards the interstate. It seems I've made up my mind, and only time will tell if this was the right decision.

Readjusting my backpack and yawning, I take in my surroundings so that I'm not ambushed by infected. Sometimes it seems like they come out of nowhere. My thoughts seem to run in circles until it starts to drive me mad. I have to think of something else or I'm going to go insane. And after searching for something, the green sign above the road distracts my mind and reminds me of the stranger I met only yesterday.

I wonder how Joel is doing, how his journey is going so far. He seemed seasoned to life outside a QZ, his time away from Boston likely forced him to adapt. Whatever job it was that he took to get out of Boston must have caused him to not want to return. But no matter the reason, I hope that he has a safe journey, I'm sure whoever is waiting for him is worried sick.

My path leads me to a roadblock where an old FEDRA checkpoint used to be, just before the entrance ramp of the highway. Cars are parked bumper to bumper and there's sandbags stacked on top of each other supporting a thick line of barbed wire. Knowing I can't climb overtop of it, I take a right and decide to go around. Sure, this is going to delay my trip slightly, but it's better than trying to go overtop of barbed wire. I don't really feel like nursing open wounds on my way to Nebraska.

As I go to turn left to get back on track I immediately stop moving. Standing in the street are three runners, all hunched over with quiet sobs. A clicker cries out somewhere close, its screeches ricochet off the buildings and echoes into the open air. My heart hammers in my chest and I take careful steps backwards so that I can keep my eyes on them. Thankfully, they don't see me and I'm able to get back to the front of the barricade.

I take a left instead, and hope for a better outcome. Bracing myself, I turn the corner and am in disbelief with what I see. There are four runners standing in the road. My eyes trail down the street and I see that they're all trapped here. The FEDRA barricade extends down the streets so that the infected in the Boston area can't use this ramp to get onto the highway. On one of the barricade sections I see the telltale sign of a door, there's a giant FEDRA sign hanging above it. That door would be a direct path to the road if it weren't for the infected. It seems that there's no unobstructed way for me to get to the highway. I'm up against seven runners and a clicker, at least. Even during the day I don't know if I could take this on.

Ducking back behind the building I try to formulate some sort of plan. How can I get through this barricade without the infected noticing me? I know the door is to the left, but there's no way I can get past all of those infected and open it. Even if I do sneak to the door, I know it's going to make sound when I open it, and that's like ringing the dinner bell for them.

Sound would be like ringing a dinner bell. An idea comes to my mind and I spot an abundance of bricks laying beside one of the cars. If I can get those bricks to all fall at the same time across the street, it should draw them away long enough for me to get to the door. It's still risky, but I think it's my best shot. But how do I get them to fall at the same time?

I don't see a way that I can pull that plan off without considerable time, and I don't have time to be stopped up here, not with all the infected. I stare at the pile of bricks and another idea crosses my mind. What if I use them to get over the barricade? I could lay the bricks in a way that I could get over the barbed wire. It might not be the most sophisticated plan, but it's going to have to work.

Quietly, I walk over to the pile and begin picking them up slowly. The barricade is at least six feet high, so I'm going to have to bring bricks up to the top of the sandbags and lay them there before I can construct something over the wire. I slide my backpack off my shoulders so that it's easier to get the bricks to the top of the barricade. Clutching three bricks under one arm, I climb the sandbags and drop them on top. Thankfully, the sand masks the sound of the bricks landing.

I take another trip up with three more bricks without incident, and feel more confident in my plan. On my last trip up with bricks, I drop them on the sandbags, but one of them hits the corner and falls down to the road with a loud crash. The infected hear it and I can tell they're rushing to investigate. I drop down to the road to pick up my backpack and see them coming towards me on both sides. Shit.

With the speed of lighting, I put my backpack on and start climbing the sandbags. I hear them getting closer as I reach the top, their carnal breaths loud in the night. I'm about two inches away from pulling myself to the top when I feel one of them grab my foot and it yanks me down.

My fingers slip on the sandbags and I fall a few inches before I'm able to grab ahold of something. Wildly, I kick my feet in an attempt to get them off of me, but there are too many. In a last ditch effort, I grab my gun from my thigh holster and shoot the ones who drag me down. The shots ring out in the night and I know it's only going to attract more.

The few runners I've shot collapse to the ground, which gives the clicker more space to reach for me. Clickers are infinitely more terrifying than runners, and they're about ten times stronger too. Runners take one bullet to kill, clickers can take at least two or three. I aim my gun towards the clicker and pull the trigger, but it just clicks. It's empty. Quickly, I shove the gun back in the holster and use both hands to grab onto the sandbags.

Adrenaline pumps in my veins and I fight harder to pull myself away from the feral infected. My pant leg rips at the bottom from their clawing and I feel my fingers beginning to slip. Clenching my eyes shut, I grit my teeth and pull with all my might to get away.

Just as I'm about to accept my fate, a shot rings out and one of the infected crumples to the ground. Four more shots hit the clicker, and it falls as well, body twitching on top of the others. Without thinking I pull myself on top of the barricade and whip my head from side to side to see who shot them. I grab my curved knife from my belt and hold it in front of me.

My chest heaves with each breath I take as the adrenaline begins wearing off and the panic sets in. Whoever shot them could be coming for me next. What if it's the T group?

From the shadows I see a figure approaching, slinging a gun behind them as they quickly jog towards me. Once they get close enough, I recognize who it is immediately. It's Joel.

He runs to the barricade and holds out a hand. I put my knife away and offer him my help up the sandbags. We both start using the bricks to construct a makeshift bridge across the barbed wire, the screeches of a dozen approaching infected rushing our movements. Joel takes bricks from my shaking hands and practically stands me up on his own and pushes me across the bridge, my other pant leg ripping from the barbs.

My feet hit the ground with a hard thud, quickly followed by Joel. His hands push on the back of my backpack and one word is clear over the coming stampede.

"Run." We take off sprinting down the highway's entrance ramp. He's slightly faster than me but I keep up well. Joel points to an abandoned car that crashed into a guard rail and I nod, showing him I understand the plan.

We yank open the doors and climb in. If the infected make it over the barricade, they shouldn't see us here and eventually will disperse. The two of us are out of breath and we sit in silence, trying to regain our bearings.

After a few minutes of steadying my breath, I take my backpack off and sit it in my lap. I rest my head on it and lean forward, closing my eyes in an attempt to calm myself down.

"Thank you." I say, slightly breathless. Raising my head from my backpack, I look over to Joel, who's glancing in the mirrors to see what's behind us. His eyes flicker to mine and he gives me a stern nod, opting to stay quiet.

If it weren't for him I'd be some infected's dinner. That fact sinks in and I feel an immense amount of gratitude. He didn't have to save me. He could've left me for dead. Most people wouldn't stick their neck out for someone they barely know, but he did. Though he is a man of few words, his actions speak for his character.

My gaze turns to the mirrors as well, the two of us anxiously wait to see if the infected are going to make it over. The runners would have no issue scaling the wall given the proper motivation to do so, but they're less likely to if they can't immediately see something that grabs their attention.

After hours of us hunkering down silently in the car, Joel opens his door and gets out. He slings his bag and rifle on his back, looking behind him one more time. I get out and gear up as well. And just like the first time I met him, the silence is almost overwhelming. The morning sunlight begins rising, and I realize we spent almost the entire night in the car.

I chew on the inside of my cheek as I debate whether or not I should say anything. Seeing as how he just saved my life, I decide it's the least I can do. I clear my throat and scratch the back of my neck, looking down at the ground to avoid awkward eye contact.

"I just want to thank you again for saving me back there. You really didn't have to put yourself at risk, but I appreciate it." I find the courage to look up, only to see him staring at me already with a fierce intensity.

"I thought you were headed towards that camp?" He asks, totally disregarding my appreciation.

"I was. I mean, I did. One guy was left but he was infected. I found clues though, about where they might be going." I tell him, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. He nods,

"So where're you headed?" He asks again, and it throws me off. This is the most talkative he's ever been.

"Omaha, Nebraska." I say, recalling the city where the large 'T' was located. Joel's eyebrows raise.

"That's quite a ways from here." He points out and I sigh, knowing I'm severely underprepared for the long road ahead.

"Yeah, I know. But I have to do this. I won't be able to live with myself if I don't." I confess to him. I'm well aware my choices defy logic, but, the alternative of letting the guilt eat me alive is worse.

Joel rests his hand on the top of the car and looks down the highway. He shifts his weight around like he's deep in thought for a few minutes. He's probably trying to think of a way to ditch me. Feeling like I'm intruding on his venture home, I speak up again.

"Listen, I appreciate what you did for me back there, all of it. But I know you're trying to get home so I'll get out of your hair, for real this time." I say and extend a hand out to him again, probably for the last time. Like before, he stares at my hand.

"I'm headed west and go right by Omaha." He says, squinting in the sunlight. I drop my hand once I realize he isn't going to take it, meaning we aren't splitting quite yet. My eyebrows draw tightly together in confusion as I try to understand what he's trying to get at. I think I understand, but I need to hear him clarify.

"Meaning what? We tag along 'til Omaha?" I hear the insecurity in my own voice and I hate it. Joel takes his hand back from the top of the car and nods.

"Safer that way, for the both of us." He confirms my thoughts and starts walking down the highway. I follow him, accepting his offer.

We walk side by side down the road, the only sounds being the birds in the sky and our gear rattling around. My mind is buzzing with questions I want to ask him, but I respect that he's a quiet, reserved man.

Every few minutes I check behind us, feeling paranoid that we're being followed. There's never anything there, but I'd rather check and see nothing than not check and be surprised. Joel is less paranoid I think, he walks with a silent confidence that tells me he's no stranger to the outside world. He understands it far better than I do.

The two of us walk for miles without saying a word until we come to an exit ramp. I recognize it as a suburb outside of Boston, but I've never been there before. Joel veers off the highway to the exit and I follow without question.

Off the ramp, there's a small town to the left and a bunch of housing complexes to the right. Seems like the perfect place for infected to be lurking about. But for some reason, I put my blind faith in the man leading me and trail him into the town.

He looks over his shoulder at me and points at a small brick building. I nod and approach it with him, preparing my knife for use. He stands on the opposite side of the entrance doors with his knife in hand, looking to me for confirmation that I'm ready. Silently, I nod and watch as he swings the door open. I wait for the sound of infected, but am pleasantly surprised with silence.

Joel seems to know where he's going though, he heads straight for the back room. I take my time to look around at the front room, seeing if there's anything of use. Most likely there isn't, but every once in a while I get lucky. The sound of whatever Joel is moving is enough to catch my attention, and I stand in the doorway. He's moving a large piece of plywood that's on the floor. There's a hole in the ground, and he drops down into it.

Curiosity gets the best of me and I go over to peek in the hole, seeing a small stash of supplies. Joel rummages around and picks up ammunition, a few cans, and another knife. He turns around and sees me staring above him, and he hands me items he can't carry himself; some cans of food and ammunition, before he pulls himself back out of the hole.

"You stashed that?" I ask quietly. He huffs as he puts away the extra supplies.

"A while ago." He answers and the two of us quickly shove the items in our bags. My bag feels like it gained fifteen extra pounds, but I can't complain. The extra weight means we have better survival odds.

Wordlessly, Joel moves out of the store and heads towards the suburban side of town, only a few miles walk away. The cookie-cutter houses remind me of the neighborhood I used to live in. A small, idyllic place at one point in time, turned to nothing but a ghost town now. Joel approaches the porch of one and opens the door. Luckily, it's empty and I follow him inside.

He blocks the main entrances to the home without a word, and I move to help him. I shove a strong chair underneath the handle of the back door and try to turn the handle to test its durability. After that, I make my rounds on the curtains and close them all. It seems like we're making this our base for the night. Once we've taken all the safety measures that we possibly can, Joel finds his way to the living room and unloads his stuff on the old, worn-down couch.

I place my backpack on the floor next to the couch and lean against the doorframe that connects the living room and kitchen, watching as Joel straightens his back out on the floor. His arms reach above his head to elongate his spine, and I hear the bones pop and crack. Wincing slightly, I turn my attention elsewhere in the house.

My eyes catch the fading family portrait on the wall and I go to look at it. The black frame houses an old photo. There's a man, woman, two kids, and a dog. They're all smiling, even the dog looks happy. My heart tugs at the sight of the happy family, and I can only assume what happened to them, just like so many other families. Sighing, I look at the other photos on the wall, seeing the slow growth of the children through still images. They look like they were probably high school age. My fingers find their way to the necklace that adorns my neck and I squeeze it tight.

A sound from behind me snaps me out of my thoughts and I turn back to see Joel staring at me. I offer him a polite smile and go to take a seat across from him on the floor, resting my back against the old couch. I fiddle with the torn edges of my pants, and can no longer restrain myself from asking questions. There are too many things I want answers to.

"How did you find me at that barricade?" My voice is soft. Joel clears his throat and shrugs.

"I took the long way 'round so I wouldn't interfere with whatever you were doin'. I was plannin' on taking this highway back home anyways. Guess it was just a coincidence." He plainly answers and I nod, accepting his answer.

"What a lucky coincidence." I smile, trying to break through the tension that always seems to hang over us. It's going to be a long trip west if he keeps things this short. He just shrugs in response,

"So what did you find 'bout those people?" He asks. I'm surprised he even cares, but I reach for my bag to show him what I've found. I spread the documents out in front of me and let him look. I explain to him what I know and what my theories are.

"Whoever they are, they need to be eradicated. Those kids, they were-" The tightness in my throat constricts my ability to talk and I take a shaky breath, remembering what it felt like to cradle the dying girl's head. Joel just nods, not needing further elaboration. He holds up the scraps of paper I found in the fire and reads the simple words.

"I'm not sure what those have to do with anything, and I'm not sure there's any sort of connection." I speak up, truthfully not knowing if they're of any value.

He puts the scraps down and picks up another piece of paper, the one with the Firefly insignia on it. As he reads the paper it's like the blood is drained from his face. My eyebrows knit together,

"What is it?" I ask and his startled eyes look deep into mine with fear that he tries to mask. An uneasy feeling settles in me. He looks back down to the paper and re-reads the note before he says anything.

"These bastards aren't going to live much longer." Is all he says before handing everything back over to me. The look on his face is unsettling, so I don't push anything further.

There has to be something he knows about this.

Part Nine

[swannieluv]

Teyvat's Festa Junina!

✦⸼࣪⸳ Pairing: PLATONIC! Genshin characters x GN! Reader ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 1,5k ✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: none (if I missed one, please tell me!!) ✦⸼࣪⸳ A/N: Hello! This is something I've really wanted to write, so I hope you can enjoy this even if you don't celebrate it! :)) ✦⸼࣪⸳ likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! <3

It's winter, and what better way to celebrate than under the covers and drinking hot chocolate? Holding a Festa Junina in Teyvat! It was a simple idea, but it took on slightly bigger proportions than intended.

Stalls with games, colorful flags and lots of food. These things made it one of the liveliest parties Teyvat has ever seen!

One of the main traditions is jumping the campfire in pairs. But by coincidence, the only person left was Bennett. His bad luck, coupled with his fear of jumping over the fire, could only result in absolute failure.

"Bennett, that's not a good idea," you hesitated, as you stared into the embers coming from the fire. "We're just going to hurt ourselves on that fire."

"Really?" the boy's face saddened slightly. Jumping the fire was something he really wanted to do — but he couldn't, not with all this bad luck. No one really wanted to jump with him, but it was a tradition that Bennett would really like to try.

Watching the other pairs jump the bonfire while Bennett stood still was a bit depressing. Of course, you didn't want to get hurt and ruin your colorful outfit; but if it was for the happiness of a friend, then it would be okay to come up with yet another accident story to tell.

"Okay, decided." With a sigh, you stood up and brushed the dust off your clothes. At least a jump of one and a half meters would be enough not to hurt yourself, since the fire wasn't that high. "We're going to make the biggest jump this world has ever seen!"

"Are you sure? What if we fall face first into the fire?"

"Trust me. I'm 100% sure we'll make it!"

Lie. Although the others could do it, you weren't sure about your own abilities at the moment. But as the saying goes: who doesn't take a risk, doesn't take a chance.

"We'll make it..." Bennett paused before grinning from ear to ear. "Let's do it!"

Hand in hand, you went to the back of the queue. The confidence of a few seconds ago seemed to disappear completely, replaced by a certain fear. Were the flames too high? Wouldn't the wind blow them onto you?

But as soon as it was your turn, you ran towards the fire. Holding each other's hands tightly, you matched your steps so that they were in complete sync; that's before you gave an impulse to jump over the fire.

It was quick, less than a second perhaps. And by some miracle you didn't hurt yourselves or knock over the wood during the jump.

You grabbed his hands, jumping for joy. "Bennett, we did it!"

"We did it!"

His face became confused for a moment as he looked around. "Do you smell something burning?"

"Yes..." With your eyes widening, you realized that the smell of smoke was coming from the back of his jacket. "BENNETT, WAIT A MINUTE!"

Just then, a kamera shot a picture of the two of you. Bennett's flaming jacket would stay in your memory forever, just like you trying to put out the flames with a little flag you grabbed from the decorations.

One of the most special traditions of the Festa Junina is undoubtedly the preparation of the traditional dishes. And who else could be in charge of such a task but Liyue's best chef: Xiangling.

Her stall had a huge queue all afternoon, so you couldn't wait to grab something. How much money was she making selling so much?

"[Name]!" As if in an instant, the girl grabbed your shoulders and shook you lightly. "There you are, I've been looking for you all afternoon!"

"Say, do you have any food left? I'm starving, and running after Bennett didn't help much..."

Xiangling went behind the tent, setting up a plate full of the delicacies she and Guoba had prepared. Putting a finger over her lips as if to shut someone up, even though no one was talking, Xiangling passed the plate to you as if it were a top secret item. "Don't tell anyone, it's all here!"

"But what exactly is... all this?"

Even with your decent knowledge of cooking, you had no idea what each of the things she put on your plate was. But it looked good, and that's what mattered.

"This is cuscuz, I made it with corn!" She pointed to a yellow pile, which seemed to be made of flour. "There's also freshly fried pastel! It's a kind of fried dough with cheese inside, a nice simple recipe, right?"

"Damn... I'm going to end up with a stomach ache eating so many different things."

Xiangling let out a laugh, pausing only to sort out more food, "It's not that bad, go! There's still sweets!"

"Sweets?"

"Pé-de-moleque, rice pudding, fubá cake. Everyone will eat later!"

"Let's see how it goes, I'll stop by again if I need to. Thanks!"

She smiled back at you and went back to the back of the tent. In the background, you could see Guoba wearing a hat with fake braids sewn into it — only the Festa Junina could bring moments like that.

On the bloody battlefield, hundreds fall during the fight. Victory is never certain in the face of the merciless monster that is Klee with a packet of estalinhos — little bombs made for children to play with.

"That... That's crazy!" Running like crazy, you couldn't help but get hit by some of the projectiles Klee threw. Since there was no real explosion, she had no restrictions on who she threw the estalinhos at.

Nothing made the moment worse than the certainty that your sanity was diminishing with every popping noise. You wanted to throw any estalinho back at her, but there was no box near you - Klee had monopolized everything.

"Hey, you!" a faint voice called out from behind a pile of boxes. While Klee was distracted by chasing someone else, you hurried to hide there.

"First time playing with estalinhos?" It was Diona, hiding with Qiqi. Although Qiqi didn't seem to be paying much attention, more entertained by the braid in her hair than anything else.

"Mhm. Why is it so difficult?!"

"Festa Junina is Klee's new battle ring. Well, pretty annoying, huh?" Diona's face frowned slightly. "It's impossible, we never beat her! Do you throw a estalinho? BOOM! She throws like seven!"

"There are three of us, aren't there? She's one."

Diona raised an eyebrow, looking at Qiqi for a few seconds and then back at you. "So your crazy plan is to go three against one? Really?"

"It doesn't hurt to try." You stood up, offering a brand new packet of the bombs. "Come on, let's do it. Please!"

"There! That's good, that's good!" She clicked her tongue, handing Qiqi some estalinhos. "Are you coming too, Qiqi?"

"I'm coming..."

And so began the great estalinho war of the Festa Junina. As it was three against one, Klee made no effort to throw the bombs. In the midst of so many people, it was impossible not to hit someone with an estalinho by accident. But you didn't expect to be the unlucky one to throw one right Jean 's face.

"Oh, what a thing! Now we'll have to stay here!" Diona complained, crossing her arms in sheer irritation.

Klee giggled as she re-braided Qiqi's hair, which had come loose while playing. "It was super, hyper, mega, ultra fun! Isn't that right, Qiqi?"

"Mhm... I wrote about it on my notebook..."

Being grounded, sitting on plastic chairs until it was time for the quadrilha, wasn't very nice. But the fun was worth it, at least they didn't kill anyone in the process - yet.

And then the most eagerly awaited moment arrived: the quadrilha. This year, you were the lucky one to lead the dance. Although it was easy, rehearsing so much made that tune stick in your head.

"Get ready to dance. Smile!" You joined your partner, leading the line of pairs to the center of the party. In the middle, the circle opened up and everyone joined hands to spin around the fire.

"Look at the snake!" With a jump, everyone left the ground at the same time. Then you turned in the opposite direction. "It's a lie!"

"Look at the rain!" Covering their heads, they continued spinning. "It's a lie!"

"Look at the mora!" They looked down down, pretending to pick up coins from the ground. "This time it's a lie!"

They laughed, it could be true — who wouldn't like a bit of free mora? But now, it was time to prepare for the tunnel, where the pairs go underneath.

"Tunnel!" You raised your arms upwards, instructing the others to do the same and create a roof over their heads. And then the first pairs began to pass through.

"Snail!" Holding hands again, you began to make circles. Back and forth, repeating the process twice.

Standing in the center, you can appreciate the decorations that took so much work to put up. The little colored flags that were strung from one end to the other looked radiant in the campfire light. In the end, everything went well. The quadrilha ended and you did a good job.

As night fell and the festive music stopped, people were already leaving. Perhaps it was time to end this year's Teyvat's Festa Junina and save the memories for the next year.

[thecheesiestcheese23]

the hand that feeds (and the heart that bleeds)

47 was an unknown and innominate man whose mind was a gaping maw of death and destruction; who was a blight upon some and a freak of nature to others. He thought he was nothing more, could be nothing more.

Until he remembered.

Until Six.

Until Lucas.

--

hello!! this is my first time writing anything in like,,, ever so please don't judge lmao. i recently got into this game and the lore and storyline is soso good compared to other fandoms i've been in recently.

for some notes: this is mainly based off of the trilogy, however i have added some aspects of the old games and from what i've seen of the comics. also, i have not read the comics, so i have taken some liberties on them. the title is loosely based off of ozymandias by percy bysshe shelly (which is a really good read) and i def recommend. ALSO if anyone has any song recommendations for my hitman playlist pls drop a comment ty.

please do enjoy!

words: 4.6k

--

A timeless chasm tears open within his mind, the hungered mouth swallowing everything that he knew.

“This is your gift.” An empty voice speaks to him and a blank-faced boy. He blinks, and the boy dissipates into ash. “Your gift, and your curse.” A heavy hand rests upon his shoulder (upon his mind and his memories, burying them) and squeezes, a nameless man looming above him. A voice booms from the man, and yet he only shows a vacant visage. “To touch lives only by ending them.”

--

Agent 47 was no stranger to being called a machine.

He's heard it from other ICA agents spread through gossip, an off-handed comment from Diana, an insult spat from the lips of Soders as he died. He let it fester, doing nothing to stop it. It had never bothered him before: let people think what they will.

After all, it was partially true in some form, not that he remembered- he was genetically modified for killing, his bare atoms torn apart and made into an unempathetic and inhumane killer. He was a twisted and unsettling imitation of a man, a vicious mockery of what he should have been. An improbable being made of stone and dust where blood that is not his own drips down his body and pools beneath his feet.

Before he remembered, 47 thought he could be nothing more. The call of death hummed in his veins with the handle of a knife fitting perfectly within the palm of his calloused hand. It was all he knew since waking up in the asylum, knowing nothing more than the most effective way to kill and how the recoil of a gun felt.

The ICA had given him a sense of purpose. A home, of sorts. Diana, in turn, appeared in his life, a constant presence in his ear, her quick-witted humor and steady voice filling in the void where he knew someone else should be.

The thought would give him pause at moments, which was unlike him. 47 knew he didn’t remember much of anything beyond the art of death, but there was always this pressing feeling that there was more that he should know. It settled like ash on his tongue, sour and grainy.

The only proof that he held of this feeling was the polaroid clutched between his thumb and forefinger. Angry eyes stared back at him, a cold blue that mirrored his own detached ones. It was him- he was sure of it. The picture sat heavy in his scarred palm, an unnamed weight tied to it.

47 sees the face every time he blinks his eyes, an unknown slate of himself pushing against his eyelids, a haunting image following him wherever he goes. It presses down on his shoulders, bears down on his violent mind. He leans back in the leather chair that sat in the hotel room, the material squeaking in protest for a moment. There had been points over his time employed at the ICA where he had wondered if his past was really worth remembering.

His eyes slid over to the open briefcase on the made bed, the light from the windows catching on the sliver of the guns and the glass of the bottles. He remembers what Diana had told him over the phone call, her smooth voice crackling over the phone, over the many continents that separated them.

“I, too, know what it’s like to have everything taken from you.” Diana admitted, her voice tinny over the phone. 47 says nothing, letting her speak. “He claims to know about your past; your childhood, your memories, everything Ort-Meyer stole from you.”

Would it be worth it? To join Providence just to remember his past? More importantly, how did Providence know who he used to be? There had to be something more than what they were telling Diana.

He didn’t know if it was worth it. It was as if the world had just spat him out; opened up to a gaping maw where he was made not from a mother or father but from death itself. If that was all he remembered, then maybe there was a reason for that.

47 slides the photo into his pocket, smoothing it over as he stands up fluidly from the chair. With a snap, he closes the briefcase and takes it in hand. There was little else for him to take- he never left a trace of himself anywhere. (Distantly, somewhere far away, a rosary hangs from a wooden gate, swaying softly in the wind.)

He strides out the door, a ghost in everything but name.

--

The first memory 47 could recall was of a snow white rabbit.

It was a runaway lab rabbit with beady red eyes and silky fur. The first time 47 had met it, it had been hidden underneath his bed. Curious, he reached his hand out to grab it, yet it had scurried away.

He was unsure of what to do, how to continue. It was unnerving.

47 did not know how to be kind.

Over the expanse of a few weeks, 47 taught himself how to care. He cared for it as well as he knew how- he fed it scraps from dinner and water smuggled from lunch. Slowly, it no longer flinched away from 47’s heavy hand- it leant towards it instead, like a flower to the sun.

He was surprised by the softness of it all. The kindness it exhibited. It was a feeling 47 had never experienced before and it acted as reprieve from the constant tests and pain that the Institute provided.

He knew Ort-Meyer didn’t approve- he made it known with condescending glances and patronizing words, saying that boys like him didn’t need unimportant attachments to such things. Still, he did nothing to remove it, so 47 kept it.

Unlike everything else at the institute, it was gentle- forgiving, even. It was not jagged at the edges or venomous in its words.

And then there was Six.

47 eyes the boy in his room, ever untrusting. The boy (who he distantly recognizes as Subject 6) sputters for a moment, standing up straight from where he was crouched over the rabbit. “You’re supposed to be on a mission.”

47 nods slowly, analyzing the room. Six continues. “I had just heard you had this rabbit. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

He tilts his head, thinking. “It is… alright. You are Subject Six, no?”

Six nods, seemingly more relaxed than the other. “Yes. And everyone knows who you are, 47.” He looks to the rabbit and then back again. “I did not mean to intrude. I can leave if you wish.”

He nods again. “You can… visit more often, if you like. The company would be enjoyable. You do not seem like the others.”

The boy smiles, almost giddily, and 47 is taken aback for a moment.

The next two years pass in a similar motion- the two becoming closer and closer by the day.

That was, until 47 came back to a dead rabbit.

Six was away on a mission, so there was no one for him to turn to. He knelt down before the dead rabbit where it was beaten senseless and bloody, the red blood seeping into the cold concrete below. The other boys had always been particularly cruel. Something burns in his eyes, and before he can blink whatever it was away, it drips down his cheeks.

He stays there, broken and crying before his bloodied rabbit.

--

Streaks of blood stream down Wazier Kale’s forehead. A smoking gun is hidden away, slipped behind the black void that is 47’s suit.

“The infamous Maelstrom is dead.” Diana hums in his ear. “Excellent work, 47.”

47 sometimes wondered about the people he killed. About the families and dreams they left behind; about the opportunities not yet taken. About their life- their past. He wondered what it was like to have the opportunity to be something.

It wasn’t something he enjoyed thinking about often.

“Mission accomplished.” Diana says, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Time to find an exit. It’s almost too bad we can’t stay for a vacation. Lovely weather this time of year.” She jokingly muses, humming and not expecting a reply.

47, as expected, says nothing as he leaves the building. He leaves no trace behind: the gunshot unheard in the loudness of the streets, the gun unregistered, and he easily blends into the crowd.

Diana had asked years upon years ago about his past. About who he was. All he had to answer her with was a number made name and the suit he wore. If asked now by her, he would say that he was a hitman. A contract killer. Others would say that he was a freak of nature, an animal in the skin of a human. As he slid into the cab, to the people wandering the street, he was nothing more than a man.

His back is set in a straight line, the guns resting at his hips barely noticeable. The cab rolls over the brick of the road, and it takes a few minutes before Diana speaks. Usually, the two wouldn’t speak until 47 was back in a safehouse, so he listens intently to her words, wondering if something had gone wrong.

“Agent 47,” Diana breathes, and to anyone else, she would sound impassive, but 47 knows better. She sounds almost giddy, yet she tries to reel it in with a front of professionalism.

He says nothing, not wanting to freak out the cab driver, so he just hums.

“I have been tracking any suspicious purchases of large or abandoned buildings lately after the dismantlement of the base in Colorado, and just now, I have received a notice that an abandoned building out in Romania has been purchased by an antonyms investor with the use of cryptocurrency. It has to be Lucas Grey.”

Lucas Grey. The Shadow client. The man they’ve been hunting for the past year. To have this much of a lead on him would allow 47 to put an end to this once and for all.

But this is almost too easy. Grey has been covering up his tracks well enough over the past year that even Providence hasn’t been able to track him.

“But,” Diana continues, taking the words right out of his mouth. “Even if this does end up to be Grey, it still very much could be a trap.”

The cab sputters to a stop with the driver shouting something in Marathi, and 47 takes that as his cue to get out. He gives the cab driver more than what the fee would have been, but he’s gone by the time the cab driver can process this.

“It is the most we’ve had on him in the past year.” Agent 47 says smoothly, not agreeing or disagreeing on Diana’s hesitance as he strolls on the long-since abandoned sidewalks towards the airport.

“It is.” She agreed, and he can faintly hear typing in the background. “The plan is to wait for a few weeks to monitor the place; see if there will be anyone else entering or leaving the compound.”

He’s silent for a moment before Diana continues.

“47, this is the only way to return your memories. To learn what Ort-Meyer has stolen from you. Don’t you think it’s time to get some closure?”

47 thinks of a polaroid burned long ago. Of angry blue eyes. Of a past long lost. Of a boy he killed.

He finds that he agrees with Diana.

--

47 and Six run through the forest with nothing but the clothes on their backs and each other. Gunfire rings out, bullets lodging themselves in the wood of trees and the soft dirt of the ground.

They duck beneath branches and hop over streams of water, silent as they could be. Their breaths stay quiet and even, trusting in the other to follow them wordlessly as they continue through the endless forest. Their feet sink into the soft earth as down-pouring rain splattered down around them, drenching their jumpsuits as they blinked the water out of their eyes.

“The rain’s good.” Six had whispered to 47 after they had taken out the guards at the main entrance, hovering close behind him. “It’ll cover our tracks.”

47 swiped the access card he had stolen from Ort-Meyer earlier. He was the only one who could get close enough to do so. “It can cover theirs too.” He said, sparing a glance at Six as the door soundlessly unlocked.

The two had been planning this for months on end through hushed voices after dark and on assignments, not wanting to be caught by Ort-Meyer or any of the guards. Finally, they had put their plan into motion: a piece of concrete broken off from the underside of the cafeteria tables had been all they needed to distract a guard and strangle him with a homemade fiber wire. They choke out the others, snap the necks of some, and kill the rest with silenced pistols.

The smell of earth and the taste of liberation on their tongues was a heady feeling.

Now the two sprint towards the promise of freedom with bullets flying at their backs, never taking a moment to rest when they knew it could be their last. 47 dutifully followed Six, never faltering or doubting for a moment.

That was, until he tumbled forward onto the wet and slick ground below. He slides for a moment, unsure of what had happened until a dull pain spreads throughout his shoulder. One of the guards had gotten him. Grunting silently, he pushes himself up with his good arm to his feet, staggering for a moment.

In an instant, Six is by his side, a question on the tip of his tongue before 47 shakes his head. “I’m fine. We need to go.”

Six stares at him for a moment, assessing, before nodding his head in a sharp jerk and taking 47 by the good bicep to encourage him along. “C’mon, 47, aren’t you supposed to be the best of us?” He attempts to joke as they continue running, but it falls flat. Still, 47 finds it within himself to huff a laugh.

They continue to run, only this time side by side with Six clenching his bicep in a death grip as if he was afraid he was going to disappear if he let up for even one second. At least with the movement, he could feel that the bullet had gone clean through, so there was no need to dig it out once they were safe.

Yet safety never came.

With another two resounding gunshots, 47 felt a bullet lodge in his lower stomach, and if knowing by some innate feeling, he shoves Six out of the way to get another bullet lodged in his leg instead of his brother’s.

He tumbles down once more, a wet gasp leaving his mouth as his injured leg connects to the ground below.

“Why would you take that bullet, you-!” Six knelt down beside him, fluttering hands skating over the wounds, not knowing how to help in a moment of panic for his brother. “Shit! 47- fuck, come on, you need to get up!”

“Six.” 47 gasped, more so in fear for his brother than for himself. The barking of dogs and the pounding of footsteps only grew closer. “You need to run.”

“No, come on, I am not leaving you. Not here. Not in their clutches.” Six shakes his head, resolute. 47's heart throbs in anguish. And then his wounds sear in pain as Six attempts to pick him up. He was always the more hopeful of the two.

47, in one last attempt, gets up with the help of his brother before he lurches forward in pain. He knew that even with three bullet holes in him, he would still be able to run, but he would only end up hindering Six. Closing his eyes, he shakes his head. “You need to run.” He repeats.

Six protests immediately. “No-”

“I’ll only slow you down. You and I both know this.” He insists steadily as he stumbles away slowly, acceptance slowly blooming within his gut.

“I’ll carry you. You’ll heal. I can’t go on without you. I won’t know how.” Six continues on, distress clearly showing in the lines of his body.

“The bullet is still in my leg. I won’t make it long without proper medical care.”

“I’ll dig it out myself-”

“Six.” 47 interrupts him, speaking through a mouth full of blood. It dribbles down his chin and stains him. “Please.”

He was never one for words, and he never begged, not for anything, but for his brother, he would do anything. He would get down on his knees before the altar of a long-forgotten god and beg for his safety, he would cut out his heart if Six needed it, he would kill for him, die for him, return to that god-forsaken institute for him. ”Live your life for me. For the both of us. Be free.”

He hesitates for a moment, but 47 can see the dawning realization on his face. His older brother swallows harshly, encapsulating one of his hands in both of his. “I’ll come back for you, okay? I’m- I’m not just going to leave you here.”

He should tell him no. He should tell him to run and forget about everything that has happened here. About the Institute. About Ort-Meyer. About the torture, the experiments, the pain and suffering.

About him.

But he allows himself to be selfish, to hope one last time. He nods shakily, drawing in a deep breath. “Okay.”

Six squeezed his hand, yet the ever-increasing closeness of the guards spurred him away. He disappears into the foliage, looking back one last time before the forest swallows him whole. 47 pitched forward, catching himself on the rough bark of a tree as black spots danced in his vision.

With a shuddering sigh, he forces himself back up and makes his legs move in a different direction, intent on leading the soldiers away. He makes as much noise as possible before he heaves forward, a tangle of limbs on the ground.

The last thing he sees before he passes out is the looming building of the Institute that hovers over the tree line and the muzzle of a Weatherby Vanguard pointed at his face.

The black void engulfs his vision, grief and blood heavy on his tongue.

--

The place, just as Diana had described it, was deserted.

And familiar.

It was familiar in a way you had something at the tip of your tongue, yet couldn't name it. The way a dream slips away. The way you walk into a room and forget why you’re there.

“He’s here.” 47 says as he approaches it.

The dilapidated building stood crumbling yet tall with vines crawling along the stone sides and in through the broken windows. Getting there had 47 traversing through acres upon acres of foliage with only Diana there to guide him at points. There was something odd about this forest, however. At points, there would be bullets deeply ingrained into the trees or embedded into the dirt below.

“The breadcrumbs were almost too easy to follow, 47. This could be a trap-” Diana’s voice wavers for a moment before being forcibly cut off.

“Not a trap.” He muses to himself as a window flickers to life with light.

The gate swung open easily, creaking. If this was any other mission, he would have found another way in.

Deep down however, with a churning gut and unknown past, he knows he knew this building. He loads his gun.

“An invitation.”

Now it was time to find out how.

--

47 sits straight in an uncomfortable chair, the cold of it seeping into his bones. His head is held high as he stares at Ort-Meyer’s back as the man hunches over, fiddling with something.

Resentment pools within his gut and hatred burns the back of his throat.

It would be so easy to slam Ort-Meyer’s head down into the metal table until his face was nothing more than flesh stuck to his palms, but he had to bide his time before his next escape attempt. Six had already gotten out, and that was more than enough for now. To know that his brother was free from the Institution's clutches gave him more than enough hope that he could get out next.

His thigh, shoulder, and stomach all throb in a distant reminder of what had happened: not in pain, but as a dull memory; the wounds have all long since healed. 47 grits his teeth and bides his time.

The rest of his brothers had already been killed or had been placed in another part of the building, but he knew that he wasn’t going to be next. If he was going to be, they would have put him down in that forest. He was too useful to them. He was the perfect clone.

‘Too useful to waste.’ Ort-Meyer apparently agreed with this sentiment.

Something akin to fear settles deep beneath his skin when Ort-Meyer turns back around, filled syringe in hand. The man begins to pace, circling around 47. He tenses and his nails dig into the metal of the chair, leaving crevices behind.

“47,” Ort-Meyer begins, voice even. “I understand your actions. You felt trapped, scared. 6 had been tormenting you for so long."

Confusion paints his face white, but he refuses to show any fear. He swallows harshly as the doctor continues.

“It would only make sense for you to lash out like how you did. However, I would prefer it if you only kill the people we ask you to, 47.”

“What do you mean, father?” 47 asks, fingers twitching as he stares at Ort-Meyer’s neck. Dread pools in his gut and a feeling of wrongness weighs him down.

Ort-Meyer hums in compilation, and 47 hates like never before. “How you killed your tormentor, 6, after he pushed you too far, of course. How he had bullied you for years upon years until you snapped. How you had fled the facility in fear, thinking that we would punish you for such a deed. However, that is not the case. 47."

His heart hammers within his chest, and fear thrums in his nerves. Why is Ort-Meyer telling him this? Did they kill Six? Did they find him? Bile rises up to his throat.

He flicks the tip of the syringe, examining how the light reflects off of the liquid. “We are impressed by your so-called escape, even at the loss of Six. The thoughtfulness you exhibited when you hid his body, made a fiber wire out of a window sill and broom, oiled the door hinges to prevent them from making noise, and shot the guard dog with a bow and arrow is impressive. We cannot let such talent go to waste.”

‘No,’ 47 thinks, an indescribable feeling of dread washing over him. ‘They found him. They killed him. Six is dead because of me.’ “That’s not what happened, father.” 47 says steadily, but his voice sounds shaky even to him. He felt like he was going to be sick.

Ort-Meyer stops behind him, and alarm bells set off deep within him, making him nauseous. “When we’re done here, 47,” Ort-Meyer caresses his head in a mockery of a loving touch, thumbing over the bar code at the back of his head as if he was trying to comfort him. 47 wants to kill him. The prick of a needle at his throat stings for only a moment, and a feeling of numbness settles over him like a scratchy blanket. “It will be.”

--

A shattered mirror lies at the top of a staircase.

The broken pieces jut out like a venus flytrap, and 47 can see the faint traces of blood coating them. 47 stares at himself for a moment, his body broken up and spread through the many pieces.

An angry blue-eyed boy watches him. He blinks, and 47 stares back.

The inside of the building was just as broken down as the outside suggested. Mildew and mold coated the walls, wallpaper torn and spiderwebs crawling along every surface available. 47 stalked forward, following the twisting and turning halls easily as if he knew them like the back of his hand.

The place seemed to be void of any personality: the wallpare a musty green and the flickering lights a sickly yellow, aged with time- yet it gave him this peculiar and inexplicable feeling of home. It sickened him like never before.

His free hand trailed along the decaying walls, something akin to unease settling in the pit of his stomach. There was something about this place that made him want to flee and never look back. It was strange and left him uneasy like never before.

A flickering light beckoned him forward, and shoving everything aside, he followed.

In front of a gaping hole stood Lucas Grey, his silhouette cutting against the harsh light of the afternoon sun. 47 steadied his gun, arm straight and true, yet something made him hesitate.

“You can home.” A haunting voice came from the man, gun in hand. He shifts it so that he held it by the muzzle, turning ever so slightly so he can look 47 in the eye. ”I knew you would.” Grey tosses the gun aside into a puddle, the water rippling for a moment as 47 looks on in muted surprise. “You’ve come a long way, 47. And even now, you don’t remember.”

47 should shoot him down where he stands. He shouldn’t prolong this any longer, but he doesn’t pull the trigger. “This place…” he begins.

“This was our prison.” Grey interrupts, hatred coating his words. He spits the words out like a curse, as if they burned on his tongue. He turns around, and 47’s head pounds. “Where father trained us, shaped us into killers for Providence.”

He stalks forward, gun hand never wavering, but what Grey says next gives him pause. “Now you don’t remember, they ripped it out of you, wiped it away, but I do. I remember everything.”

A hand on his shoulder. A comforting presence. A house yet not a home.

47 shakes his head, finger ghosting the trigger. ”You’re a terrorist with nothing to lose. You’d say anything.” Grey moves to the left, towards the wall, and 47 nearly makes him a smear upon the wall.

The man squats down and digs his fingers into the wall, tearing it away. Two bloodied handprints sit there, and 47’s hand stings in a reminder. The muzzle of the gun is pressed to the back of Lucas’ head as a reminder.

He swallows harshly. “I know it’s difficult. You never miss your mark or question your function. But we made a pact, you and I.”

47 stares at his scarred palm. He had forgone gloves for this mission, and now the matching X on his palm stands out more than ever. Lucas turns, and emotions that 47 can’t catch paint his face. “Do this… we both lose.”

47 remembers little but he knew he was a killer in more ways than one. “There was an incident. That boy… he died by my hands.”

“He lived.” Lucas says, the words dripping out of his mouth like nectar. “Because of you.” He fluidly stands, gray eyes boring into his own, searching frantically. “Don’t you remember his name?” He asks desperately, pressing forward, only stopped by the barrel of a gun kissing his forehead. ”You know this. Deep down, you know. What was his name?”

A forest. A promise. Pain and hope. A brother.

Six.

He raises his gun, hand twitching. “Subject Six. Your name is Subject Six.”

“And what is our purpose?”

Suffering. Experiments. Killing. Flesh tearing anew.

“To destroy them all.”

--

please excuse if the characters are ooc, i haven't written these characters before so i'm still trying to get the hang of writing them. i hope you all enjoyed it! i may write some more on this fandom later on! :)

[lanaxoxoxoxoxox]

why can't i get you out of my head ?

this is part 2 !! read part 1 here

original request by @heiijoy

warnings: cute fluff, slight panic ig???

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

2 weeks later

If you have told 17 year old me that Ranboo and I were dating, I would have probably passed out. I've had a crush on him since we first met on the Dream SMP, and the fact that we're actually dating blows my mind.

I was chilling at Ran's house on his bed, scrolling through my phone as Ran worked on some writing for his horror series, Generation Loss on his desk. I peaked up from the edge of the bed and saw his back of his head and a slight few of his fingers typing on a Word document.

"You know, you better add me in the "Thank you" in the credits. We can tease the viewers and make them wonder who the hell I am! They're gonna go crazy when we tell them." I joked, putting my phone away in my pocket.

Ran turned his gaming chair around to face me and fixed his hair. I could see his chest moving up and down slowly from his breathing. "Speaking of telling." he paused. "I want to tell our friends about us. We're going to meet them later today, and I don't want to hide it anymore. I don't want to have to hold your hand under the table or wait until we're in private to kiss you. If you don't want to just yet, that's totally fine. We can take it in small steps, whatever you wan-"

I cut off his words. "Darling, I would love that!" I said, getting up to hug him. He sighed in relief and hugged me back, squeezing me tighter. "I do have an idea how we can tell them." I said, smiling, sitting on the floor next to him.

Ran perked his head up. "What if we don't tell them anything directly, but rather show it using actions? We try to make it obvious at the same time as well."

"Oh! Like we could hold hands in front of everyone very clearly and just wait for someone to react!" Ran smiled.

I smiled back at them. "That actually could be perfect."

4 hours later

Ranboo and I walked to the Brighton pier sign, and saw no one was there. We decided to take a quick photo to post on our socials to provide some "clout" for us. Ran grabbed his mask out of his pocket and put it on, and posed for the picture. As I was editing, we saw Tommy, Jack, and Niki start walking over to us.

I looked over to Ran and mouthed, "You ready?". He nodded and smiled at me.

We both walked over to them, not holding hands just yet. I ran over to Niki and gave her a hug. We all greeted everyone and I went over to Ran and grabbed his shoulder. Before we started dating, Ran would have been an absolute stuttering and blushing mess. Now, he's 100% more calm since we're together.

I looked over to take a quick peek at Jack's and Niki's face, and they both shared looks with each other. Tommy didn't even notice from his amount of energy. I giggled quietly into Ran's shoulder.

We were walking towards the arcade and I stopped to look up and Ran. I winked and said, "Love, can I have my wallet please?" I smiled at him.

Ran nodded and grabbed my wallet out of his pocket and gave it to me, smirking as he could see Jack and Niki shocked, even Tommy just standing there awkwardly.

Jack leaned over to Niki and spoke quietly to her, even though we could still hear them talking. "What the fuck?" he laughed.

We walked around the pier some more, and then went to the sea side to hang out for a bit. We walked down to the rocky area, and placed down our things on the log before sitting down. Ran was about to sit down on the log. This was the final step of our "plan" we had created earlier that day.

I pulled out my wallet and phone from my front pocket. "I'm going to buy water for myself, does anyone else want anything?" Jack, Tommy and Niki all shook their heads no.

Ran spoke up. "Can I have a water bottle as well?"

I nodded and went over to him and kissed him quickly on the lips.

I quickly saw Tommy and Jack stop in their tracks and stare at us.

Jack sputtered. "W-wha-what?"

Tommy yelled. "Why didn't you tell us, you bitch?!"

Niki just smiled.

Ran and I looked at each other and started laughing.

"Oops! Guess it's out now!" I said, sarcastically.

Gosh, I loved this man.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

this is really short but its so cute 😭❤️

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thank u for reading <3

love u lots xoxoxoxoox