#I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS FOR SO LONG IT TOOK ME AN HOUR TO WRITE IT

[17020]

uhh.. kotoha..? what happened last night..?

nsfw (?). not explicit, but i'm tagging it anyway. content warning for dubcon (togame is sober, fem! reader is not), alcohol consumption, implied thigh riding. this happened to me at a halloween party a few weeks ago, so to cope i'm writing it out. stay safe beautiful angels! togame is an ass in this one. i am sorry to jo togame. tried to lighten the mood with cameos from other shows.

it was all a blur. the bottle of rum you gulped down in less than an hour did not help, either.

what started out as a tranquil week ended up with a text from your best friend: an address to a house for a halloween party. ladies pay $5 if you signed up beforehand, $10 if you show up at the door. begrudgingly, you agreed, being added to the party's group chat and noticing some familiar names.

and when you're invited in such a hurry, the options for costumes are non-existent. throwing on a skimpy all black outfit and styling your hair with some accessories, you hoped you would at least pass as misa amane.

not that anyone would mind, anyway, because as soon as you and kotoha stepped in, you were flooded with the scent of sweat and liquor.

knowing absolutely nobody meant you had to join an established group. two women alone at a party was never a good sign, so when you spotted a group of girls and one guy, you knew you had to spark up a conversation.

what you didn’t expect, was to be approached by a cowboy. and behind the messy buttoned up shirt, red bandana and huge brown hat, was shishitoren’s second in command.

“so, what’re you dressed up as, pretty?”

his tone was laced with cockiness, as if every fiber of his being was pure gold. gold that, in his eyes, might’ve been the world’s greatest treasure, yet nothing more than cheap trash in yours. but when rum hasn’t hit you hard enough, you need to find some sort of entertainment. what’s a conversation with a man going to do?

“misa misa” you smiled, “what about you? what are you dressed up as?”

he pretended to think about it for a moment, as a younger, shorter man jabbed him with his elbow, gushing about how you were the greatest costume he’d ever seen of misa so far. “i’m dressed as a cowboy, pretty” he said, tilting the hat on his head. “so you’re misa misa, where’s your light?”

you shook your head while laughing, “there’s no light here, bud. so what brings you here?”

after long talks of what dragged each of you to a backyard after party somewhere in keisei, finding out you live near one another, and him asking you the ‘how old do you think i am’ question, there was one thought that never left your mind…

gosh. jo togame is so annoying.

it was annoying, the way he tried leading you away from your best friend kotoha and onto the dance floor, with your hand doing crazy signals behind your back in hopes of her noticing. which she did. she dragged you away from him with the excuse of looking for another nonexistent friend, which you were truly grateful for.

and not even an hour later, you saw the cowboy again. to your surprise, he was on the dance floor once more. with a girl who looked exactly like you.

it was obvious he had a type.

a while later, you stumbled across him again, this time completely alone, and completely shirtless. it was then when you realized the alcohol had finally kicked in, full on. you nearly tripped on your own feet as you walked towards him, with togame’s arm snaking around your waist to catch you.

“you look a bit gone, pretty. gotcha some water.”

you took the plastic cup from his hand, almost gulping it down in one go. when he set the cup aside his attention was fully on you, and that was when your body decided it was best to fool around.

“i saw youu pretty boyyy” you slurred, “saw you with someone else while i was gone!”

he chuckled as he brought you closer to him, “you were with your friend, beautiful. thought you didn’t want me there, cause i do want you here.”

in a swift movement, his chest was pressed against your back as he swayed both of your bodies to the music blaring through the speakers. “you wanna dance with me, doll?”

you nodded, as the big hands on your waist pulled you even closer to togame, his hips slowly grinding against yours. you could feel his breath hitch on your neck, as the music became louder and louder. grinding soon enough turned into thrusting, with his hands lowering towards your hips. togame was quick to turn you around, your legs parted as he propped up his knee. togame leaned in, with you softly pushing his head to the side, shaking your head and mouthing a ‘no’.

but jo togame liked a challenge.

so as you tried to regain your composure one of his hands lowered to your ass, rolling your hips against his thigh as he closed the distance between the two of you, the other hand cradling your jaw.

jo tasted normal. you tasked like alcohol filth.

he wasted no time slipping his tongue inside, earning a gasp from you as you desperately clung onto him for stability. thinking you might as well enjoy your singleness, you finally kissed back, fingers running through his raven hair as you nearly got yourself off on his thigh. yet you felt nothing.

pulling away for air, he sighed dreamily. “you kiss so fuckin’ good, y’know that?”

“so i’ve been told” you laughed, before worry took over you. “where’s my best friend? i want water for her too.”

togame looked around, unsure of how to respond. “well, if it’s your best friend, i suppose i can grab another cup for ya. stay here, alright?”

he walked away and headed to the counter where they had the drinks, and a tap on your shoulder made you turn around. it was a tall, purple haired man who you’d recognize anywhere.

“name’s gen. wanna dance?”

you lazily nodded as he walked closer to you, his hand on your waist and your arms around his neck. and you smiled, because he wasn’t as forward as togame. what a relief!

your happiness came to an end when he leaned in, to which you cupped his jaw and mouthed a ‘no’ while shaking your head. your happiness returned when he nodded, apologizing for trying to kiss you in the first place. and when the dj shouted ‘where the singles ladies at’, you screamed louder than any crazed fangirl when seeing their favorite singer.

gen laughed as he nudged for you to look to your side, where there were a group of men whistling, pointing to a man with a raven bowlcut, with his friends yelling ‘he’s single!’ to you.

you giggled as you bumped into none other than togame, who had a cup in his hand. finally.

taking the cup you guided him to kotoha. if by guiding, you meant stumbling your way through people, and togame having his hands on you to make sure you don’t trip and fall. and you were grateful to reach her so quickly, because as soon as she finished her cup you got a text from your tsubaki saying she was already there to pick you both up.

you turned to the cowboy, who leaned down to kiss you deeply once more, followed by a quick peck. when he asked for your socials, he smiled.

“i’ll be honest, pretty. i know i was with other girls tonight but you were the most beautiful girl here. i’d love to get to know you more. would you like that, doll?”

you smiled, “of course! i’d love that, togame.”

and with that, you left with kotoha, with her whispering in your ear. “you’re seriously gonna meet the dude?” you laughed, “oh hell no! i don’t think he’ll text anyway.”

a day later, your phone buzzed.

jotogame: hey ☺️ do you remember me 🙈?

ynln: no 😊👍

jotogame: well that’s a shame, i would’ve loved to have gotten to know you

jotogame: you’re beautiful

ynln: thanks

jotogame: there’s something about the way your eyes looked at me, like they hypnotized me

ynln: glibness doesn’t work on me, boy

jotogame: you know i was gonna stop replying after your “thanks” but i thought you should know.

ynln: i’m truly sorry if i caused you any trouble at the party yesterday 😊 take care

jotogame: yeah i just took care of you, don’t worry

you never blocked someone so fast in your life.

taglist: @toyogamii @stunies @hayatoseyepatch @takiishiluvr @okkotsushi @maruflix @nyxypoo @littleplantfreak @vinomino

[writing-until-i-drop]

Wildflowers For A Hangman Ch. 20

Summary:

Daisy, a career novelist, moves in with her college best friend Phoenix who has been permanently assigned to Top Gun with Dagger Squad. She finds herself instantly connected with a cocky pilot who's soft only for her and Jake can't help but want to know everything about her. When the past comes knocking at both of their doors, will they stand together or fall apart?

Or: The Dagger Squad can't cook and Jake falls in love with a woman who makes a mean lasagna while they work their personal trauma.

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x writer!femOC | 18+ (eventually) minors dni. Fluff, smut (eventual), idiots in love, past trauma.

A/N: Jake comes clean and Daisy has to talk to Penny

AO3 Link

Previous Chapter

I managed to make it until we were back at my apartment before I broke. Tasha was spending the night at Javy’s place, which meant it was just the two of us and after a  few hours of thinking up the worst possible scenarios for what Jake had to tell me, I was ready to cry, scream, or throw up. Or do all three at once, it was a toss up really.

“I’m going to sit down on the couch and you’re going to tell me what’s going on,” I said, putting my hands on Jake’s shoulder to stop him from kissing me when we walked in the door. “Because I know there’s something you’re not telling me.” Jake sighed, running a hand over his face.

“We’re not breaking up, let’s start with that,” Jake’s voice was tired but serious, his words striking out one of my fears. I nodded, running my hands up and down my pajama pants, trying to ease my anxiety with the familiar feeling of the fuzzy fabric. “Rooster and I might be deployed soon.” The news hit me like a blow to the gut, deployed? What happened over Thanksgiving had been a mission, just a few days apart and that had been hell.

“How long?” I heard myself ask, knees folding into my chest. Jake sat beside me, wrapping me in his arms, chin resting on top of my head.

“I don’t know, Wildflower.” 

“Where?” 

“I don’t know and I couldn’t tell you if I did, it would be classified,” Jake kissed my hair. “I don’t have any details, I don’t even know if it’s happening. It’s all just whispers behind closed doors and rumors at this point, which is why I didn’t want to say anything.” 

“I love you,” It’s all I could think to say. Jake’s thumb brushed over my cheeks and that’s when I realized I was crying, “I love you so much.”

“I know, baby, I love you too,” Jake held me tight. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I didn’t want to say anything until I knew for sure.”

“Tell me next time, okay?” 

“I promise, Wildflower. I’m sorry I worried you,” Jake kissed the top of my head, rubbing circles into my back. “I love you so much.” 

My first thought was to run, to get away but the second that crossed my mind, the idea of being without Jake hit me like a truck. I didn’t want to be without him, I couldn’t imagine not having Jake in my life. He had managed to intertwined every part of my life with his, from my writing to his family, we were bound together. Running away now would be running away forever. Right?

“Why don’t we call Penny in the morning?” Jake kissed my hair again, drawing me out of my thoughts. “Maybe we can call mama and pops too.”

“I’d like that,” I nuzzled into his neck, “How long are deployments usually?” Jake sighed, bringing me onto his lap.

“It depends, there’s short deployments of just a few months and then there’s deployments that can last over a year.” A year? My grip on Jake’s waist tightened, “It’s probably not going to be that long, baby but if it is, we’ll figure it out.” After a few minutes of silence that felt like hours, Jake whispered, “You’ll be waiting here when I get back?” 

“Always,” I answered without hesitation. I took Jake’s face in my hands, staring him down even though I still wanted to puke a little bit. Jake’s eyes were intense, his brow creased in worry. “I’m not going anywhere and no matter where you go, you’re coming back home to me. Deal?” 

“Deal.” Jake closed the distance between our lips, kissing me soft and sweet. There was no rushing, it was as if we had all the time in the world, and if we did have all that time, what was a few months apart? He pulled my legs fully around him and stood, never breaking the kiss as he carried me to the bedroom. 

When he laid me back on the bed and stripped me bare, Jake took his time. He covered my body in kisses, worshiping every inch like he was committing it to memory, and when we finished, he pulled me into his chest and held me tight all through the night. 

The next morning I called Penny, who evidently had been waiting to hear from me. I tried to ignore the fact that everyone around me probably already knew about the deployment, especially the fact that Tasha hadn’t said anything. Penny invited me over and Jake dropped me off,

“Call me when you’re ready,” He whispered, kissing my forehead. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, cowboy.” 

Penny greeted me with a hug and a mug of peppermint tea, she looked cozy in her navy pajama set and robe, pulling me into her living room.

“How are you holding up, kiddo?” Penny passed me a cream blanket that was soft.

“First thing I wanted to do was run,” Penny hummed, rubbing my knee. “Now I just feel a little numb.” 

“I thought having grown up with my father’s deployments would have made things easier the first time my ex-husband deployed but it didn’t.” She sipped her tea, staring ahead where a picture of her and Amelia hung on the wall. “I spent the first month crying in bed, almost got fired from my job. Then one of the other wives in his unit, an older woman named Vera, sat me down for a talk.” 

Penny looked the picture of calm as she spoke and I envied her for it. What I didn’t envy was how many years, deployments, and undoubted heartache that it took to cultivate that calm. 

“She first told me that I looked like crap,” I chuckled along with Penny. “Then she told me I was going to join her walking group. Most of the wives in the unit met up every morning and walked a mile around base. If we had news, we shared it, some women talked about how their kids were handling things, we organized what we were sending in care packages, and we traded recipes. Anything to keep ourselves sane.” 

“Are you asking me to join your walking group?” Penny pursed her lips at me, rolling her eyes. “What, you, me, and Ames could totally go for walks on the beach before school.” 

“Good luck dragging that girl out of bed early,” She pushed my knee, laughing. “But seriously, Daisy, one of the best things you can do while he’s gone is stay busy and stay connected with me and with him.”

“How am I supposed to talk to him if I don’t know where he is?” 

“You’ll most likely be able to call him but if you want to send him letters, you’ll give them to command and they’ll send the letters to him when they can.” When they can. That wasn’t very reassuring.

“What else do I need to know?” 

X

I spent the day getting my affairs in order, scheduling a stop on my mail, making sure all my bills were on auto pay, and updating my will and life insurance policies. By the time it was lunch, my head was pounding from all of the tedious details. 

When lunch time came and went without a word from Daisy or Penny, I stopped by the store and picked up a few things for Daisy’s apartment. Bath bombs, new pajamas, a few nice notebooks that she’d probably never write in for fear of “ruining” them. I chuckled to myself, I really did love her and all of her little quirks. If it wasn’t for Daisy’s one-year rule I’d pick her up from Penny’s and take her straight to the court house if she’d let me. 

Deployments had never bothered me before, in fact, I loved them. They meant that I could fly on missions, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my veins as I kept an eye out for enemy bogeys. Now the thought of being away from home for even a few days made my heart hurt. I wanted to go to work in the morning, fly formations with the team, and come home to Daisy at the end of the day. I wanted to fall into bed beside her and tease her when she spent twenty minutes rearranging the blankets so she wouldn’t be hot. 

The deployment hadn’t even started yet and I already wanted it to be over. I said a quick prayer, praying that this deployment would be a short one.

Taglist: @dizzybee03 @littlezee80 @nervousenemyduck @carolina-on-my-mind03 @mizzzpink @beltzboys2015-blog @writingrose @hookslove1592 @closetspngirl @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @closetspngirl @shanimallina87 @owenniasstars @cevansbaby-dove @caitsymichelle13 @bigstrongblackheart @mrsevans90

Next Chapter

[soaplickerrr]

Long Work Days and A Good Relationship

Idol! Park Jonseong / Jay Park x Reader

It had been a very long day, and Jay had been in the studio for several hours, recording and rehearsing for an upcoming performance. With all the lights and continual motion, it was impossible to find a moment of peace.

But right now, things felt different. The soft hum of the studio, the low chatter of his team in the background, it all felt quieter, almost more comforting. Since all he could think about was you.

He had barely left the recording booth when he immediately checked his phone. You'd sent a message earlier, a simple "Hope your day's going well," but it was enough to make him smile. He quickly typed out his reply in the hopes that he didn't text you after you fell asleep.

"Almost done! Can't wait to see you.”

He had felt exhausted, but somehow, the thought of coming home to you kept him going. Jay made his way out of the building, his jacket slung over his shoulder, the lights of the city flashing beyond.

He knew by now that you would most likely be sleeping, but he simply could not resist the thought of dialing your number.

His fingers danced over your contact name until his heart, lighter by a fraction with the thought of your voice on the other line, made him call you.

You picked up, and your voice was groggy, he chuckled at it. "Jay…? Is everything okay?”

"Yeah, just finished up. Wanted to hear your voice before I head home. You ok?" He said, leaning into the car door as his eyes gazed out into the dark street as he awaited your response.

"I'm good," you mumbled, well awake now. "Just missing you. How was the recording?"

"Tiring," he said, his voice low, but there was a warmth lacing it. "But hearing your voice? That makes it all worth it."

You give a soft laugh, your heart racing at the simple words. "You say that because you're probably just sleepy. Hurry up and come get some rest, Jay. You'll feel better tomorrow.”

Jay silenced for a second; his eyes on the street in the night's darkness. He could feel the sleepiness rising in his bones, but it was all nothing compared to how much he wanted to be next to you.

You smiled, though he couldn't see it. "Are you coming home soon?"

"Yeah, I’m just a few minutes away," he finally said, getting into the car. "I‘ll get there before you know it.”

He soon arrived, the lights off in the apartment, but he knew you still were awake, waiting. He made his way through the door quietly, slipping off his shoes.

He rounded the corner into the living room and found you curled up with a blanket on the couch. Your face lit up when you saw him, and suddenly the long day didn't feel so tiring anymore.

"You're home," you whispered, almost so you wouldn't disturb the peaceful moment.

A lazy grin twisted Jay's lips, and without another word, he shuffled to sit beside you. He leaned in, wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his face into your hair as you let out a content sigh.

"Miss me?" he asked, his voice low.

"Always," you replied, your fingers delicately running up and down his arms.

He laughed low and slow, pulling back just enough to look at you. "I'll take that as my compliment for the day."

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling as that was all it took to simply be with him. Jay was always carving these moments out in his busy world, reminding him that no matter how apart or how tired he was, you guys always had each other.

"I missed you too, Y/N," he whispered, staring into your gaze.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to the top of your head before pulling you even closer. "Just want to be here with you. Forever.”

And in that moment, everything was great. No cameras. No bright lights. No staff or group members. Just you and Jay, and the peace of being together after a long, crazy day.

Thank you so much for the request!! I had fun writing this! :3

[ashkabbom]

Storm - Mouthwashing

A/n: It's 1am, but nothing will stop me muahahahah! Give my writing a chance and correct me if anything, English is not my first language and I had a LOT of help from the translator 🫶🏽

•Pre-Crash!Captain Curly x Reader

synopsis/summary: You and Captain Curly talk a little during the night

Notes: I didn't specify the gender and I didn't talk about the relationship, it's up to you to see how you interpret it.

Drops of rain hit your window hard, thunder and lightning tormented you and took away your peace.

It was night and you were in the ship's kitchen, you couldn't sleep for some reason, but the silence and the moonlight projected on the huge screen were comforting.

Thinking of anything to occupy your mind, from how long a squirrel lives to worries about your current job, although you tried to push some of those worries out of your mind.

Somehow you got a job, only you didn't expect it to be here and like this, but it's good that you don't do much, it's good that no one got hurt and you need to take care of.

Due to sheer pressure, you ended up entering some area of medicine, although it wasn't exactly what your parents wanted, it's still something, but you would be anywhere else if you could choose for yourself.

You didn't want your parents to look at you like you had failed and disappointed them, it was horrible to feel like you were a failure, something they weren't proud of.

Do you sometimes wonder if a hospital would even accept you, would you want that? Maybe you would even do well? It's not what you want but-

"Awake at this hour?" A voice echoes lightly and a tired-looking captain is leaning against the door. You didn't even hear the door slam, you were so immersed in thought.

Captain Curly was one of the most easygoing guys you'll ever meet working at the Pony Express, and that's not to be rude, but there are very few people at that company who are easygoing with other people.

"Night snack break." You say with a shy smile, not expecting anyone to be awake at this hour either. "But someone emptied all the coffee."

He chuckles lightly before sighing, "I can't imagine who would be responsible behind such a crime." Curly rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face, then looks at you. "But something tells me that late night snack isn't what got you so focused that you didn't hear the door."

"Hmmm a captain really knows his crew apparently" You laugh a little and nod. "I was just thinking a little bit about... Everything, you know? There's a few more months to go, I think about 7 months or something and it's just as weird as it was in the beginning"

Curly listened carefully to what you said, as a captain he understood exactly what you meant.

Being in the middle of space for so long, with a group of people you're not used to, is quite something, especially for someone unfamiliar with being so far away from where they used to be.

Even he wasn't sure if this was what he wanted for himself, if this was the pinnacle of his life or if he should try something more and go beyond his comfort zone.

"So you feel like the things around you are devouring you little by little, you sink so deep into it that it's hard for you to get out. It's not bad, but you feel like it's not good." He tries to complete what was on your mind.

"You gave yourself away that you are or have been in the same boat captain" You look at him with a cheeky smile and start walking towards the couch. "or on different boats, but with the same destination"

Curly follows you right behind and also sits on the couch. You both stay in silence for a while, just looking at the moon.

"It's not the same as looking at the sky at night, but it's better than nothing I guess." You say without thinking much. It would be a lie if you said you don't miss being on earth, in your home and in the comfort of your room in your house.

"I think this when I look at the stars, it's even different when I remember that I'm in space with them, being able to see several everywhere.. Without light pollution" He says and another silence falls.

It wasn't an uncomfortable silence, quite the opposite, it was the most peaceful silence you'd had in nights. Just you, the captain and the stars, enjoying the company that each one could offer.

You look at the captain, wondering if there was anything he regretted doing in his life that brought him here.

It was no surprise that he knew what was bothering you in your thoughts, after all he is a grown man with experience in life, everyone goes through this questioning one day.

Uncertainty is what moves us sometimes.

You wonder if Jimmy is like that too, if there is anything he would do differently to be somewhere else or if he wouldn't change anything even though he might regret something...

He didn't seem much for talking about that sort of thing. Jimmy was always a mystery in his mind.

Him and Swansea. You knew very little about the two of them, but it's not like you knew much about the others anyway.

You knew that Jimmy and the captain were friends so he must not be as bitter as he seems, after all he wouldn't be where he is if he wasn't someone he could trust.

"So this is what they mean by staring into your soul" He laughs as he says this and you come out of your trance. You hadn't noticed that you weren't just looking at him out of the corner of your eye, but that you had turned your face to look at him.

You laugh at his comment. "Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on the entrance to a man's soul." Sighing lightly you smile "Daisuke showed me a drawing of him yesterday, the boy is talented and expresses well how he sees places and people"

"Is that what you two were doing in the infirmary during lunch?" He asks curiously. "But I didn't realize you liked rock and metal, but the metalhead you drew looks nice."

"It's not a metalhead, it's Anya." You look at him like it's the most obvious thing and he's so dumb.

"Was that supposed to be Anya?!" Curly asked in disbelief.

You and he talked for a few more minutes, even though it was so late at night, maybe it would be morning in a few hours, but clearing your head at least a little was the best thing.

You yawned and realized that you were actually sleepy now. Curly yawns soon after and you both laugh lightly, agreeing that you would go to sleep now, wishing each other goodnight.

So the raindrops hit the window weaker, until they stopped completely, without thunder or lightning.

The next day you wake up dead tired, woken up by Daisuke questioning if you were still alive.

Soon you go to the kitchen together, talking a little about what you had dreamed about during the night. Anya was already there and so you and Daisuke join her, soon Jimmy and captain, arrives and-

"Whose metalhead drawing is this? It was lying on the floor" Swansea asks with the paper in his hand

"Not a metalhead!" You hear Daisuke chuckle and you swear you heard a chuckle coming from Curly.

A/n: I had another creative peak this morning and here it is, straight from the oven. I wish I had written something with Curly before writing something with Daisuke.🫶🏽🎀

[hopelessdelusional]

matt sturniolo x influencer! reader

reader is grunge! a singer! and on social media (this is very niche i apologize) i will be building this AU more so stay tuned!

｡･:*˚:✧

hey so i’ve hyper fixated onto an CIS. STRAIGHT. WHITE. BOY. someone put me down i cannot do this anymore please this is a cry for help needs to euthanize me-

｡･:*˚:✧

enjoy ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ᗜ^)

join the taglist

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ homebase

to start, you have been close friends with jake for a long time, and thru him you met tara and johnny before meeting the triplets

jake pretty much always has you in his videos, so much so whenever you aren't in a video the fans have started to request for your presence on videos that don't have you in them

you're not all that active on social media, only posting random covers of your favorite songs on your youtube channel and random tiktoks

in jake's videos you are always making him laugh, and out of the two you're more calm with a dry sense of humor

'...do you like it?"

"yeah because me immediately spitting it out and chugging my drink after eating it obviously shows how much i love this fucking candy"

OR

"hey jake did you want to get dinner tonight-"

"..."

"why the fuck is johnny in a baby costume."

in tara's videos you and her literally talk for HOURS and the way tara could make four separate videos from one recorded hang out is ridiculous

with Carrington the two of you easily match each other's energy, always giggling in the back of videos

you've also done singing collabs with jake and johnny! there are a couple of songs that just have your background vocals and then others with actual verses

you haven't released any songs though due to stress and anxiety, feeling too pressured to write the

"perfect" song so you settle with being a feature

besides that you really just mind your business with college, your job, and hanging out with friends

tara was actually the one who introduced you to nick

and through nick….you met matt

.・。.・✭・.・✫・゜・。.

matt who was excited to meet nick’s new friend who he was talking abt nonstop

“hey guys! yn is here!”

nick swings the door wide open, smiling widely as he stomps in the house. you follow in quickly, nervous to meet nick’s brothers. your friendship with nick came naturally, having many things to connect with. that being said, you weren’t sure if you could create a relationship with his brothers as easily as you did with him.

fiddling with your clothes you wave politely at the boys, surprised to see both of them walk up to you and hug you. granted it was swift hugs, but it immediately created a softer environment, causing you to relax immensely.

matt who immediately noticed how you looked uncomfortable and took the first step to hug you

“i like your outfit,” matt said after chris broke away from you. he gave you a small smile, making you smile in return. before you could respond however, chris started talking to the group.

nick had already decided on having dinner at home, so you settled in leaning on the kitchen island watching nick and chris argue over what to make for dinner. matt walks over to you, putting his hands in his pockets.

“don’t worry i could never replace you guys,” you tease, when you see him across from you. he giggles in reaponse, his eyes never leaving your face.

“cool tattoos,” he points out which surprised you. looking down at your arm, you smiled admiring the work you’ve gotten done over the years.

“thank you! you also have some gnarly tats.”

matt smiled at you, flexing his arm a little bit to show off his whole sleeve.

“is that the only place you have tattoos?” you question, suddenly curious about his body art. matt nodded, then looked at you with a small smile.

“does that mean you have more?” the question made you laugh because he seemed almost shy asking you, so when you nodded enthusiastically and started to give him a quick tour all over your body. lifting your shirt up was funny for you, because you could tell matt wanted to be thoughtful and not look but when you reassured him he hesitated at first but eventually awed at them. his reactions were so lively, making you appreciate how focused and compassionate. he praised you for your own ideas and for the tattoos that meant something, and still thought your random and silly tattoos were interesting.

after you finished showing him you were practically gleaming, it had been a while since you had been able to speak so much of the tattoos that littered your body. every single one of them had meant so much to you and being able to share that with someone; especially someone as excited and appreciative as you are.

“you’re really cool, i can see why nick enjoys hanging out with you so much.”

you and matt were sitting down in the living room now, leaving chris and nick to prepare dinner for the evening. talking came easily after the tour of your tattoos, matt showing you his and the conversation flowed better than you dreamed it to be.

you chuckled at matt’s comment, finding his eye contact was making you squirmish in your seat.

“nick is so much cooler than me, but i don’t mind i really enjoy being friends with him. plus now i have two new friends so that’s a bonus.”

matt laughed at your response, running a hand through his hair now avoiding eye contact with you.

“yeah, i’m grateful nick brought you around.”

matt who couldn’t take his eyes off of you for the rest of the evening, which did not go unnoticed by his brothers

“don’t steal my new best friend from me matt!” nick yelled out dramatically after yn left, making matt shake his head.

“you should let matt have their number,” chris mumbled, still focused on the game he was playing. nick gasped dramatically before agreeing, making the boys laugh with how quickly he switched up his emotions.

“just don’t steal them!” nick threatened, but matt was already too excited to text you to listen.

matt who got your number and could not stop texting you, and he especially couldn’t stop smiling every time you texted him back

“matt i need backup,” chris said frantically, his eyes glued to the computer and fingers moving at the speed of light on the controllers. when matt doesn’t respond, chris huffs and repeats himself.

“matt seriously dude where the fuck are you?!”

matt finishes up typing and looks up, oblivious to the game that they were losing.

“oh shit,” he mumbled, putting his phone down and picking his controller back up.

“you weren’t even playing?” chris yelled out, frustrated with their status. nick pipes up from the bed, suddenly curious. he peaks his head over and sees matt’s phone light up, watching matt immediately lose his focus to look at his phone. matt straightens up, wanting to reach for his phone before chris cursed loudly, drawing his attention away from the text. nick squints, thankful that he was wearing his glasses and sees the name on his phone to his disbelief. yn sent a text, then another one, and then another one. his jaw dropped, and his gasp was so loud it startled his brothers.

“nick! oh my god,” chris started to laugh when his fear settled down. nick still had his mouth wide open, only causing chris to laugh harder.

“you’re gonna catch flies kid,” matt snickered. nick slowly turned his head to matt, mouth still open, in a very dramatic motion.

“yn? you stole my best friend?”

matt froze, a slow blush creeping up from his neck to his cheeks. chris eyed his brothers from his peripheral vision, jaw also dropping.

“that’s why you’ve been so preoccupied? damn my boy has a crush,” chris started to chuckle, causing nick to scream and matt to drop his controller covering his face in embarrassment.

matt who gets jealous whenever you and nick go out like he wants to hang out with u too :(

matt who finally gets the nerve to ask you to hang out with him, after nick decides he’s had enough of matt complaining about how “you never invite me-or chris!” (he has to add the chris part to not sound too obvious)

matt stood nervously at the door, fiddling with his keys in his hands. he finally knocked, immediately hearing rummaging around behind the door. matt couldn’t help but smile, wondering what you were doing right now. were you just as nervous to hang out with him one on one?

suddenly, the door swings wide open, and you’re in the doorway smilingly widely.

“hey! come in!”

matt who had so much fun hanging out with you.

the two of you went to antiques and thrift stores, grabbed some dinner and went back to your place to spend the rest of the evening together. the two of you got along so well he ended up staying until 12AM because you wanted to finish watching the show you started, not that matt was complaining. he was tempted to ask to stay over (and you were tempted to ask him to stay over) but he didn’t want things to be awkward. so he left late into the night, after you gave him a tackling hug, asking to hang out again soon

matt who started to call you every night, and although you two texted all day you never ran out of things to talk about.

matt who is really starting to fall for you

.・。.・✭・.・✫・゜・。.

k bye ily🩶

[callistocalavarni]

shifting to the 60s

hii I havent posted in a while, I've been trying re group from multiple shifts while getting my life back in order but I think I'm back.. Anyway I have a bunch of stories from so many places I'd like to share and im currently working on how I want to post them. But I don't see a lot of storytimes so I think it would be fun to share some. So i'm gonna rant about some shorter ones here.

shifting with sleep paralysis

I wanted to talk about this shift because it stuck out to me and I can't stop thinking about it.. I had shifted about 2 times in the span of 30 seconds. For a whole week back in October I was waking up at 3-5 am in the morning without being able to go back to sleep. So as you can guess I woke up at around 4 am and was restless. At around 6 am I got tired again so I started my method and I know people say that symptoms don't exist but in the time that I have shifted all I can say is that I disagree.. Anyway, one moment I was saying affimations and then the next I woke up all tingly and in a weird sleep state I've never been in before. I didn't even say to myself I wanted to shift I just did. It was like my mind was on autopilot. Didn't say affimations, didn't go through my script in my head, didn't even try to use the 5 senses. I just started seeing myself in 1st person and what I would be doing in my dr without any forethought and shifted. The first shift, I was on a track running with a couple of men and we all were wearing 60s running wear. I had an orange and red tank top with matching orange shorts. It had felt like there was an orange filter in this reality.. if that makes sense. I was on the track about to run and I just recall looking around laughing.

When I shifted to this moment its like I felt my consciousness leave my body; Which is the weird part because I've never really experinced this before. It felt like I was being pulled up by something and all I could hear was constant noise. I don't even know what noise I was hearing it was like someone was screaming right in my ear or veryyy loud ringing/static. The noise was SO loud. I was in the middle of sprinting when I shifted back because I thought I was the one making the noise, I thought I was screaming..Thankfully it was not me. But When I came back I was still In that state and I could look around me but my eyes were still closed. It's like I was seeing everything from a different perspective. There was a spider crawling on my wall right next to me when I shifted back so I freaked out and the noise got even louder ! The spider was leaving black spots all over my wall,, I could not figure out what was going on in the moment ( when I was writing this in my journal I figured out it was sleep paralysis ) It felt like I was tripping on a bunch of pain killers when I shifted back. I still couldn't move so I shifted again to the same reality but this time I was in the shower... the noise got even louder. The noise made it feel like a bad trip and I ended up shifting back here to try and stop it. It took my like an hour to get out of sleep paralysis. Unlike the method, this reality was very enyjoyable. It felt like a Nina Brodskyaya song, I lived alone and I was successful. I think I worked at a cigarette company, which is ironic because I hate smoking. But I don't know for sure as I didn't stay long enough to find out.

Lumari is a country I scripted, Forlina being one of its nations.

This reality was late 70's early 80's and one of my favorite drs. I stayed here for about a year. I was in Forlina living in an all girls home. Forlina gives free housing to students so I moved out of my parents house to start collage. About six girls are given a room to share together, don't worry they are pretty big. I loved our room. It had big sliding windows that gave a view of the tropical forest. We each had sunken in beds, some girls who were home sick shared beds for a couple of weeks. It took me a while to get use to the amount of noise in the morning. There was this one girl who would blast music on the radio while getting ready. I only had to worry about this sometimes because I woke up pretty early. Art was one of my classes and the professer would make the class times either 7 am or 9 pm which also took me some time to get use to. idk the guy was kind of weird. I rode my bike everywhere here. I miss being able to ride down a bike trail and see the ocean. I've been thinking about shifting back here for some time. I might post more about this reality in more detail later.

<3

[flamingoprincess25]

Hello! Are your headcannon requests still open? Okay, so I was thinking about that Disney princess post you made and I was wondering if you could maybe write headcannons about the boxers going to Disney World for a week. :3

Thnx in advance 💖✨️

OHOHOOHO I LOVE THIS ONE

(Let's see if I remember anything from my Disney trip in 2019 AUGHHH)

LITTLE MAC

The first thing he and Doc bought were obviously Mickey ears (Doc got ones that look like chocolate)

Doc gave Little Mac money to spend but it all got spent in one gift shop.

He did go to every park. (His favorite is Magic Kingdom)

Got to meet all the characters and get their autographs

GLASS JOE

Got a bit of social anxiety by the sheer amount of people in the parks

Was too broke and couldn't afford much

Absolutely LOVES the sweets they got

Threw up after riding Space mountain with the big boys.

Got a snowglobe (he loves collecting snowglobes)

VON KAISER

Actually brought his students with them. They basically fucked around with Aran Ryan.

Surprisingly, his favorite park is Epcot. (Almost thought it was the world's biggest golf ball 😭)

Makes sure everyone sticks in a group (it didn't last not even for 10 seconds)

Loves the Snow White coaster and would ride it over and over if the lines weren't so long.

DISCO KID

Blasted a whole Disney playlist the whole way there

Nearly passed away on some rides (*cough* tower of terror *cough*) and definitely passed out on a majority of the rides.

Attracted a crowd in Hollywood Studios from break dancing

Was SO HAPPY to meet Stitch (He was one of his favorites)

Would NOT stop singing the songs on repeat (Sandman wanted to BEAT his ass)

Got so many souvenirs he had to get another bag.

KING HIPPO

Has absolutely no idea where he's going or what this place is.

Fell in love with Animal Kingdom (some places in the park reminded him of home)

He actually got to see Kevin and he was so happy the whole trip. (He even got a Kevin plushie for himself)

Hogged everyones dole whip on the hottest day of the trip

Had a fucking BLAST at the water parks (don't know the names bc I never went there 😭)

PISTON HONDO

Didn't really mind the trip (He's been to Disney World Japan god knows how many times)

Attempted to take some of the food back home, only for it all to get eaten by Hippo

Was "Harassed" by storm troopers in Hollywood Studios

Kept comparing everything in Disney World to the one in Japan like bitch stfu and enjoy the trip.

Was mostly chill and did join some shenanigans.

BEAR HUGGER

Loves both Animal and Magic Kingdom

Fucking cried when he met Mickey (bro sobbed for hours)

Actually snuck his squirrel into the parks

Got Mickey ears for both him and his animal friends (Some were too big bless)

Oversleeps back at the hotel and sometimes misses the trams to the parks

Got a shit ton of stuffed animals

GREAT TIGER

Didn't need the trams to get to the park dude just fucking teleports there

He let's his clones fuck around but NOT with Aran Ryan or Von Kaisers students

Like Hondo, he was chill

Got to meet princess Jasmine and got her autograph.

Got a few collectibles (mostly jewelry)

Recorded a rap song about his trip a week later

DON FLAMENCO

OBVIOUSLY brought Carmen with him

He and Carmen wore matching Mickey ears

When he rode tower of terror, he let out the most girly horror scream in existence and was constantly bullied for it

Loved all the sweets they had but almost overindulged with an upset stomach.

He took Carmen to see all the Disney princesses

Became a princess at one point bc of Carmen (girly pop got him a dress, tiara, everything)

ARAN RYAN

Dude was a fucking menace

Took Von Kaisers students wherever they wanted to go (don't trust him babysitting he's gonna let me do fuck around and find out)

Almost got arrested....twice

Had beef with Merida and would shortly befriend the actress behind Merida. (He thought she was cool)

Shoplifted a bunch of shit and somehow got away with it

SODA POPINSKI

Fucking chugged down every drink the park had to offer

His favorite ride is Expedition Everest

Was unfortunately too tall for most of the rides

He didn't do much besides buy some souvenirs and meet characters (Cried when he met Olaf lmao)

BALD BULL

It was a nice trip for him but not with all the people pissing him off

Chilled in the pools at the hotels most of the time.

Was the spy in that one interactive Star Wars ride and made the most flabbergasted face known to man

Enjoyed the food there but almost caused a food fight.

SUPER MACHO MAN

Posed with the characters while getting his picture

Wanted to be in the shows they play but couldn't

Was another victim to the storm troopers but played along horrifyingly good (get bro an Oscar)

"I'm on a diettt" is later caught eating sweet shit

Absolutely LOVES Hollywood studios

The rest of the gang are the whole fucking reason why he's in debt

MR. SANDMAN

Didn't want to come but was forced to

Actually SMILED?! when he met Mickey and Minnie (he was picked on unfortunately)

Loves the star wars areas

Didn't buy much. All he got was a t shirt and a keychain

This is all I got for now (I tried, might edit it soon 😭) but let me know what y'all think!

Bonus HC: They did the most DIABOLICAL photo shoots on Splash Mountain (this takes place in 2009 SHHHH) for example:

(Anyways that's all!)

[gretavanmoon]

an omnipresent force • ch 5

Chapter 5 - DARK ABDUCTION

Jake x female reader

Words: 12K

A/N: Semi-AU// Set six years in the future, the world has decided to cast humankind aside, starting with the poisonous entities that are destroying her the most.

*So sorry it took me a damned month to write this LOL I love you all

Warnings: Dystopian Horror, Cursing, Suspense, Feelings of Fear and Uncertainty, An Apocalyptic World, Violence (& mention of firearms), Mentions of Smoking, Kidnapping, Blood, Death & Dying, Lying, Attacks, Deceit, Panic, Mental Anguish. Smut: Kissing, Heavy Pining, Heavy Touching, Mentions of Sex

JAKE

“Wait, you two kissed?” Sam places his hand harshly on my shoulder as his tired eyes delve deeply into mine. I see the tiniest hint of a smirk poking at his mouth, and I immediately regret my decision to let the admission of what happened last night slip. I’m struck silent for a second as I bite my own tongue for telling my brother what happened on the wall by the koi pond, but he perseveres. “Answer me, asshole! Tell me what happened!” His hand shakes at my shoulder as I glance around to be sure we’re away from the rest of the group, but I feel Danny’s presence suddenly hovering at my back.

“Wait, what happened?” he says with a monotone grunt, sitting down beside Sam and I with a plate full of canned something. “Who kissed somebody?”

Jesus Christ.

We’d all awoken from the restlessness of sorry excuses for sleep nearly an hour ago, buried up under old, musty quilts and blankets from the home Odin had us hiding out in. I fell asleep with Y/N’s hand in mine as we laid head to head on the dusty cushions, trying our best to calm our minds enough to sleep. We knew we needed it, hell, even if we didn’t fall into unconsciousness, just resting our bodies enough to relax was helpful enough. My mind had raced all night long with half-asleep dreams of Josh… of my parents and my family, all my dark daily thoughts even darker then under the cover of nighttime and complete silence. 

But her warm hand in mine gave me some type of solace, though she is still yet unfamiliar and more or less a stranger to me, that kiss on the wall felt like more than just two humans begging for physical touch after so many months without it. Deep down I knew that my body was acting more powerfully than my mind, taking whatever it could get just to feel something again, but after sitting with the memory of the feeling of her lips on mine all night long, I started to think it felt like something different.

Luckily Y/N had taken off to the woods to do her business, giving me a second of reprieve to sort my thoughts out while Odin and the brothers made some type of breakfast over the fire in the backyard. Sparrow was still deep in sleep, resting peacefully in the bedroom across the hall from us. 

“Jake kissed Y/N!” Sam belts to Danny in a loud whisper, earning him a swift slap of the back of my hand across his stomach. “Ow, fuck! What, you didn’t want him to know or something?”

“No, I don’t care that he knows, it’s just… not a big deal–”

“Not a big deal? Jake, this is like the first episode of a soap opera, man!” Danny exclaims with a toothy smile. “Need some romantic drama in my life, tell us what happened,” Danny orders as the two of them sit beside me with expressions of extreme interest. For a split second, it feels like we’re 16 again, telling each other stories about girls and hookups and how we managed to sneak out after midnight without getting caught.

“No drama to it, Daniel,” I begin to reluctantly explain, running my hand over my mustache. “Just… kinda happened, I dunno.” I stare back at the both of them, all three of us haggard, dirty, unshaven and feral… looking outwardly worse for wear than we ever have in our lives. I make a mental note to re-think what Y/N even sees in me, right now.  

Their eyes are trained on me, their jaws hanging slack as they wait with bated breath for the dirty details. It feels private, but also…eh, they’re going to learn about it eventually, I guess. I’ll keep a little bit to myself, but feeding into them will make for some unexpected entertainment. 

“Just happened…” Sam repeats. “I mean was it, good?” he asks, swallowing down his excitement. You’d never guess that we’re thirty-something year old men having this discussion right now. 

I feel my chest bloom with the memory of it, remembering everything about how she felt pressed against me, how she tasted, how she sounded when I let my hands wander…

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, it was… really good,” I can feel my cheeks blushing. “We just…” I throw my hands into the air and try to down play it all, but they know me too well. The bite of my lips between my teeth is doing all it can to keep me from relinquishing every detail to them, simply so I can relive it, myself.

“Fuckin’ come on, Jake. I didn’t realize you guys were that close…” Danny tries to urge me.

“We’re not, I mean, we were locked up in the same pod, she was a damned fan, for fuck’s sake,” I breathe, checking our surroundings again as I whisper. “She saved me, back at the sink hole…” I recount to them. “Got me out of there. They’d just hit me over the head when I was trying to save her Paps, I was passing out. I wouldn’t have made it out if she didn’t–”

I watch them adjust themselves as they listen, huffing through deep breaths of imagining what my negative memory might be going through. 

“I mean of course I’m… ya know. It’s been some time since I’ve—,” I try and explain without saying, earning understanding nods from them. “But things got a little…handsy, I guess.”

“Oooo!” Sam squeals, rubbing his hands together.  “You lucky motherfucker! What else happened? Did you do it?”

“God, no, Sam, we didn’t do it, you fuckin’ idiot,” I bite back as Danny laughs loudly. 

“What?” he howls. “I’m trying to live vicariously here!”

“Nah man, she’s like… really nice. It was really uhm, not just physical, I guess. We talked and stuff. She feels like…” I raise my hands and squeeze the air as I realize I’m having a hard time explaining to them exactly what I feel. Of course my body is feigning for more human touch, any type of connection I can get my hands on. I’m ashamed of the thoughts that plagued me on the couch last night, but I remind myself that it’s normal. And, after hearing what she had to say about a little touchin’ and squeezin’...

“She feels good. I don’t know how else to explain it. Just, really good. All the way around.”

“So there’s mutual attraction?” Sam asks, nearly begging for more detail.

I fight back another smirk. “Oh yeah. M’sure of that.”

“I saw her looking at you last night,” Danny adds quietly as he pulls food into his mouth. “She got those googly eyes.”

“Of course she did, Daniel, do you not remember being on stage? It hasn’t been that fucking long ago…” Sam bickers.

“No,” Danny laughs, “not that kind of eyes. She was looking at you. Like, really looking. With concern and empathy…while we were listening to Sparrow talk.”

All I can do is nod, remembering that I’ve caught her looking at me like that, too. A few times now. And each time it sends a surge of some type of emotion that I don’t have time to think about right now straight through my body like an electric shock. It’s funny, I’ve had my fair share of what you’d call crushes in my lifetime, some evolving into serious, years-long relationships and some fizzling out before I even had a chance to think twice about them. 

But never have I felt like I didn’t want to eat the food in front of me when I’m nearly starving, simply for the fact that the emanating peace I’ve felt in my chest and stomach for the past few days takes up enough space that I don’t need sustenance. Because she fills me. She’s making my heart race for a reason that I don’t yet understand, and I’m teetering on the edge of feeling guilty about it, as my heart should be racing with worry and concern for my family, instead. 

“Well,” Sam breaks the silence, “I hope that things stay moving forward for you, brother. Nothing like a little romance during the fucking apocalypse.”

Just then I hear her giggle from the back side of the house, causing my head to dart that way as I long to hear it again. I toss the pebbles that I had mindlessly picked up back into the murky koi pond and stand with Sam and Daniel, and we begin to make our way back to the fire to see what the day will hold. 

I catch her eyes as soon as I round the corner of the house, bright and rested as I assume she got better sleep than I did. Her face immediately turns the prettiest shade of pink before she shyly breaks her gaze, tossing a few pieces of hair behind her ear. That familiar knot pulls at my stomach, making me forget how to breathe for a second as I watch the too-bright sun bounce off her features. The day is already beginning to feel strange as the wind begins to shift from the warmth of the night into the freezing cold of the day. 

“Where is Odin?” Danny asks the brothers as they work to prepare a makeshift meal. 

“Went to sit with Sparrow until she wakes up,” Robbie answers as he stirs whatever is in the pot that hangs above the fire. “Want some?” He holds the wooden spoon out to me as I realize it’s some kind of oatmeal, and I immediately feel my stomach churn with hunger. Maybe I do need real sustenance, after all. I nod, grabbing two bowls from the stack and letting Robbie fill them for Y/N and I. 

I pass the bowl off to her as we both take our seats on a rock by the fire. “Awfully kind of you to think of me, Jacob,” she says sweetly, taking the hot bowl from my hand. 

You’re the only thing that’s been on my mind since last night, if we’re being honest…

“Sharing is caring,” I blurt, making her giggle again. 

“Do we have a plan? Are we making moves soon?” Danny asks, turning the bleak cheeriness of the morning straight into business. We always leave it to him to keep things on track. And honestly, if it weren’t for him naturally doing that at every single turn, it’s hard to tell where we would be today.

“As soon as Sparrow wakes up, and we see that she’s ready to share again, we will define a more detailed plan,” Josiah explains. “For now, Odin wants you all fed and for us to gather necessary supplies from the house. I found some backpacks and camping gear in the upstairs closet, we can fill them with whatever we need.” 

I tilt the bowl up and let the soupy oatmeal fall into my mouth, and as it burns my lips and tongue I feel nothing but gratitude for it. My mouth waters and my stomach churns again as it thanks me, my mind suddenly feeling a bit of clarity as the food hits my stomach. 

“We also need to hydrate. All of us,” Robbie adds. “I think these people were preppers before we even knew the world was ending… I found a ton of canteens and potable water in the basement this morning. Firestarters, water filters, hot hands, oil lamps… take whatever you want but make sure it doesn’t weigh you down. There’s also still a ton of clothing in the closets. Grab whatever you can.”

“We also need to remember that we’re being hunted,” Josiah says grimly from behind him. His eyes seem dark in the sunlight, a stark contrast to his brother’s cheery disposition. “Hunted by the ones who Robbie and I ‘work’ for.”

“Worked,” Robbie corrects him, glaring behind him to meet eyes with his brother. My gut suddenly falls as a worrisome thought flows through my head, one that hopes to the heavens above that these men aren’t actually luring us somewhere. I know Y/N, Sam, and Danny have the same thought, but it’s quickly extinguished as Josiah explains his demeanor. 

“Right, worked. Sorry. I’m just…” Josiah works his hands over his face and licks his lips, letting out a large breath of air as he shakes his nerves away. It hadn’t dawned on me that these two men have put everything out on the line for this, for us. To help save us, keep us protected. They are just humans like we are, just a couple of guys who agreed to fight the good fight. Of course they’re feeling just as overwhelmed. 

“We haven’t forgotten that, Josiah. And I don’t think you know how much we appreciate you both for coming out here and helping defend our asses,” Sam says through full mouths of his oatmeal. The other three of us agree and nod.

“We’re not gonna let these motherfuckers win,” Robbie growls. “They mistreated us for far too long. Lied to us, and we played their games, but we caught them up. Now we know how they operate. We’ll be damned if we let them take anything more from us.”

“Your family, are we searching for them, too?” Y/N asks from beside me. 

Robbie and Josiah share a sullen glance before their eyes land back on her. “No, we lost them all to the rash. Dad was able to stay with us for a while, but. It got him in the end,” Robbie says, tossing a few pieces of broken sticks into the flames. 

“Neither one of us have even shown any symptoms. Then we got picked up by these scary fuckers, they agreed to give us shelter and a lavish life in safety from what has happened to the world. Not sure why we agreed, we felt desperate at the time, I guess,” Josiah adds. “They said they would make it worth our while to come and work for them, and before we knew it we were in too deep. But we did learn nearly everything there was to know about how their world intersects with ours, and then we learned about you guys being found. Made all the musical ties ourselves, realized all the lyrics, knew that you’d be in grave danger, and we were right.”

“I still can’t believe you two were fans, too,” Danny breathes. “Feels strange.”

“Yeah man, big time. Used to play you guys all the time while we were overseas, bugged the shit out of everyone until they all started singing along. Took some time, but we converted them,” Josiah went on. 

“Wait, overseas?” I implore. 

Robbie clears his throat. “Yeah, we were both in the military. I was Air Force, Joe was Marines. We were both stationed separately when Starcatcher came out, but I remember we got on some shitty Zoom call and talked about it for like an hour. We were hyped.”

“Oh yeah!” Josiah yelps. “That was killer, I remember that. Fuck I played that shit over and over, got the whole squad turned on to you guys. Playin’ fuckin Highway Tune on jukeboxes in random bars in Germany… ah, what wild times.”

I feel a genuine smile warm through me as I realize that our music really did tie bonds between people, and they found comfort in it even while they were living in what most likely was their own versions of hell. Even now, months after we realized that our dreams had come to a quick and forced ending, it feels good to hear the stories of days past, when it truly did mean something to someone. At least we all will always have that. “So that’s why they hired you guys… you had experience in this shit…”

They both nod. “Yeah, somewhat. We ended up coming back home around the same time, I got an MP job, and Joe stayed with Special Forces for a while. Got out and got some civilian jobs or whatever, then the world ended,” Robbie says with a twist of his neck. 

I gulp down the strange sadness that has washed over me, and I feel Y/N’s side press a little harder onto mine. 

“Bet that was tough…” I mutter. 

“Yeah, ya know. We didn’t hate our lives, but it wasn’t sunshine and rainbows. The thrill of the job is what we got addicted to, but it felt like a prison most days,” Josiah goes on. “Now we deserted our posts as work hounds for those motherfuckers, guess we’re a couple of renegades, now.”

Danny’s eyes shoot open as he glances to them, then to me, realizing yet another connection that hadn’t even dawned on any of us, yet. Son of a bitch, Josh…how in the fuck did you do this? 

I shake my head in disbelief, feeling Y/N exhale hard as she makes the connection, too. It’s quiet for a minute or so as a heaviness falls over us.  

“Till Valhalla?” I finally ask, unsure of how else to propose it. 

Josiah purses his lips, offering me a stern look. “Or is it Alas, Babylon?”

I huff through my nose, breathing a quiet “fuck” as I place my bowl down onto the rocky ground, running my hands over my face. They’ve realized it, too. As the minutes tick, things become more and more unreal. Or more real, depending on how you look at it. I’m awestruck at how our words are still coming to life at every turn, realizing now that these two brothers are our Barbarians. 

“Well, thank you, guys… for all of it. Really,” Sam says with a little conviction as we all add in our words of agreement.

“Ah, no need for that. But it’s appreciated,” Josiah says as he stands up and elbows his brother. “We’re just out here still doing what we do best, huh?”

Just as the conversation starts to lighten a little, we hear the back sliding glass door open as Odin gently bounds through, giving us looks of intrigue as his one orange eye glistens in the sun. Behind him in hand, is Sparrow. 

“Good morning, everyone. I trust you all got some rest,” his voice is low and graveled as he uses caution to lead a tired Sparrow outside into the cool wind. 

“Got enough, I suppose,” I say, standing to greet them. “How are you, Sparrow?”

Her aura seems to shift as she moves, the air around her almost glittering in a dusty haze. “Well, Jacob, thank you.” It’s like the breeze warms as she speaks, blowing across us with a new wave of positivity and calmness. She emotes some kind of invisible tranquility, almost immediately filling me with a new gumption to keep going, keep fighting. I can hardly fathom the emotion, but I feel a warm buzz of stamina begin pulsing through my veins. She makes me feel like I’m…alive. 

Odin leads her over to take a seat on a bench as she hobbles across the gravel with her hand clutched protectively over her sword. 

“Is she…limping?” I hear Y/N whisper quietly in my ear, again furthering that the visions of her in Josh’s dreams were spot on. 

I nod slowly as she begins to relax onto the seat, stretching her back and raising her arms high above her head. “My friends, my sincerest apologies for bestowing that news upon you with such haste last night, but I thought it prevalent to our situation, and urgency became paramount. And then, my slumber afterward is always overpowering, and again I am sorry. I simply can never fight through it…” 

I feel Y/N rise from her seat beside me as she wraps a blanket around herself, making her way over to sit beside Sparrow. “It’s alright, you don’t need to be sorry. I think we are all grateful that you’re here, and willing to help us, right guys?”

“Right, absolutely,” we all viciously agree. At this point, I’m chomping at the bit for her to continue, to feed us more information that I know she is holding inside her. But I’ve learned that patience is key. 

We all gather in around her like children being read a Christmas story, anxiously waiting to hear what new news she has to offer. I’m nervous, and I’m a little scared to know, but I also can’t bring myself to think about anything else at the moment. The newfound urge to keep going is amplified the closer I get to Sparrow, but I also could absolutely collapse with worry for my brother. 

“Alright, I’ve got good news, and I’ve got bad news…”

Y/N

I feel the overwhelming urge to reach out and grab Sparrow’s hand, but I resist, not knowing whether or not that will comfort her at all. I’m not sure where my want to comfort her has come from, but I can’t seem to step away from it. 

The guys and I sit and wait for her news, and I’m positive none of us have taken a breath since the last word left her lips. My nerves are swirling but I suppress them, knowing that Jake, Sam, and Danny are a thousand times more anxious than I am. Paps would want me to stay strong.

“The good news is that your brother is alive. And he is safe, in some sense of the word,” she sings, her accent flowing through a hundred millenia, but all of us are somehow able to understand it. “My friends, as I’m sure you all have probably assumed by now, Joshua has been found and captured by those who rule the Tower. His mind is still his own, but you must understand, once one crosses into the other world and begins inserting oneself with the beliefs of those who inhabit there, it takes a great deal of power to begin to reverse it. The words that flowed from me last night were indeed words spoken by your brother, himself, to the people there whom he will one day rule over.”

“Wait, rule over? What does that mean?” I interrupt, my body tensing. 

“Jacob, your brother is a Seer. Even in his adolescent dreams and nightmares, he was witnessing and experiencing a plethora of occurrences that were happening in real time, in the past and in the future, in our world. You know this, now. You wrote about it, about it all. Once our people learned that Joshua possessed this gift through learning of your music, they made it their mission to try and take him for their own. To rule over them as the true one that they could believe in, the one who stands, and watches over,” Sparrow says. My chest caves and my breath hitches as it all begins to come to life again. All of our lyrics, all of our stories…

She goes on, “Of course they wanted him, they just had no idea that a mere human would be the one to possess the power to see time. Time and events being prophesied by a human man in an enemy world is… unfathomable, for them. The end of your world just happened to be the perfect time for them to act upon their plans, as our worlds cannot live while the other is struggling to stay alive. Two sides of the same coin, spinning rapidly on its axis until it begins to slow and falter. But this time, oh, this time, things are different.”

“So they wanted Josh… to be their Seer, to be the one who can warn them of what’s to come, what will work in their favor, and what will not…” Sam drones, choking back tears. 

“Correct, Samuel. Odin, have you told them of what they are doing to their elderly? With their memories?” Sparrow asks. 

Odin shakes his head. “Yes, I have.”

“Your immune elders are being used for their experiments. They are trying to wipe their memories, wipe anything and everything they have ever known to soon bring them over into their own world, and convert them to follow the Seer. A whole new population that will know nothing but following him.”

“Blind faith…” Danny murmurs from beside me, his elbow pressing into my back. “It’s their fate.”

“That’s right Daniel,” Sparrow agrees, emanating another glow of positivity around us. “Blind in the sense that they will have no recollection of how they got there, or why they feel compelled to follow this omniscient. It’s the perfect storm.”

“You said that the hooded guards are all omniscient, why can’t they use one of them? Why does it have to be Josh?” I press, remembering what Odin had said. 

“I said they are all nearly omniscient. Your brother, in their eyes, is completely so,” Odin reiterates. 

I huff out an air of disappointment for news that I partially already knew, but hearing it all said out loud has crushed me. Why? Why?

“Josh didn’t know what we were writing about was real, though! They can’t take him and claim his mind like that, they can’t take away his free will!” I yell, feeling my heartrate taking off. 

“They can, Jacob, and they have already begun the process. You heard his words last night, and I know you know they were not his own. They’ve begun to manipulate his thoughts into believing that all he claims is truth, which partially, it is. They are deeming him as a new leader, a sovereign entity of whom will lead the people to their destiny.”

“Destiny? What destiny?” Danny asks.

“If their trials are successful, and they are able to completely wipe the memories of every immune human left on earth, they will take them all as their own and the Earth will have no choice but to relinquish all its power unto them,” Sparrow barks, and I can tell that the words sting a bit as they leave her mouth. 

“But I thought our worlds can’t exist without one another,” Y/N blurts, her hand now gripping hard onto mine. 

“They can’t, my love, without inhabitants who are strong and thriving.” Sparrow stands and approaches us, her warmth bellowing toward us as she raises her hand to brush across all of our faces. “That’s why they are hunting you. You are worth everything to them. If they can erase the memories of your elders, then they will be sure they can erase the memories of the stronger, younger immunes. Wipe your Mother Earth of her inhabitants, and watch as she completely crumbles. Once they convert you all, then their world will have more than enough power to exist on it’s own, without needing the support of Earth to survive.”

She comes in closer, her aura dripping with what feels like forced happiness. “You see, they want to fully extinguish the human race from the face of the Earth. They want you as their own. Their plan is to take you all, and Joshua is their sole key to the abductions.”

Abductions. 

Suddenly, I can’t breathe. 

I can’t blink, I can’t swallow… I can’t even feel the rocks that I know are poking through the thinning soles of my boots. 

Jake’s hand slips from my own as I feel him slowly turn to me, and to Sam and Danny, all of their faces void of any real emotion at all, other than complete terror. 

“This isn’t fair…” I whisper, and I’m not sure any sound came from me, at all. It feels like my chest is made of stone, the small breaths I’m pulling in unable to expand my lungs. Josh…

“What do we do?” Jake asks us, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as his pupils shrink to pinpoints. His face has dropped to a stark white, and I can feel the terrified energy radiating from him. His eyes dart from his brothers to me, looking to all of us for answers that we simply don’t have. “What do we do?” Tears begin welling in his eyes and the rims of them turn a bright red. I can see his hands visibly shaking.

“We search. Today. We leave, now,” Odin harks, standing from Sparrow’s side as he throws his bow and arrow over his shoulder. “Into the house, pack your bags, take only all that is necessary and nothing more. Pack water, warm clothing. Josiah, Robbie, the same for you. Make sure you lock all of the doors and windows, we will return to this place eventually.”

“Where are we going? What’s the plan?” Danny asks as everyone begins to shuffle. 

“First we find your families. Get them to safety. Then we find your brother and cross him back over. That will be the hard part,” he says, punching through all of us to go and begin packing his horse. Danny, Sam, and the others jump into action and begin rushing into the house to pack their things.

I notice that Jake is frozen where he stands, the news that Sparrow has just shared still coursing through him. I fear he is in shock, feeling the effects of learning the truth about his twin fully and completely. Truly, I’m not sure what to even say to him right now, but then I look to Sparrow and she gives me a tight grin, and I immediately feel another wave of comfort and courage wash over us. 

“Jake, I know you’re scared right now, and I know this is a lot to process, but. We’re going to find him, he’s going to be okay,” I reason, taking his cheeks into my hands to try to get him to look at me. 

“How do you know that, Y/N? What if we can’t get to him, and he’s already too far gone? What if he– what if he never comes back?” I never thought I would see him cry, I never thought I would have to be the one comforting him when he did… But here I find myself…

“You wanna know how I know that, Jake? Blind faith.”

“What–what do you mean? That’s…”

My hands release his cheeks and fall to catch his still trembling hands, cold and clammy in the blowing air. “How do we ever know anything is going to work for certain, Jake? We don’t, we just have to persevere. Josh wouldn’t stop looking for you, and he’d never give up on you. None of you would give up on each other. Right? All these years, all you’ve done is trusted each other, because it’s all that you had. You seized every opportunity, together. And look where it got you. You can’t stop now. You can’t think thoughts like that now, Jake. We don’t have time for them. Every single one of you is stronger than you know, and I’ll be damned if I sit here and watch you crumble because of a little fear. You’ve overcome so much, Jake, in your lives and in your careers, because of your blind faith.”

“Kill fear,” he whispers. 

I watch as his pupils grow a bit, and his muscles relax. I wipe the tears that are beginning to freeze onto his face, catching in his lengthening beard and mustache. “Yeah, fuck fear,” I smile.

He nods, turning his head to press a sweet kiss onto my palm. “Okay, yeah. You’re right. We’re gonna find him, he’s gonna be alright, the son of a bitch.” I smile as he picks himself up, gripping my hands that are still cupping his cheeks and placing more kisses onto my palms and fingers. “Thank you…”

I push myself onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck as he finally takes his first full breath in a few minutes. “Don’t thank me, Jake. You don’t know how many times you and your brothers have comforted me when I thought there was nothing else left for me in this world. You and your music were always there.” 

I hear him laugh, his chest shaking a little against mine as I realized the words I’d just said. “I didn’t mean to say that, it just came out,” I laugh along with him as he pulls away a little, holding my elbows in his hands. 

“Hell, maybe he dreamed about you and me too, then,” he mutters, sending my heart straight into glittering explosions. What did I do to deserve spending this time with him? The person that pulled me from the depths so many times… and now we’ve found ourselves here…

“Maybe he did…” I reply shyly, feeling his thumbs grazing across my arms. 

“Hey, love birds! Come on, we’ve got bags to pack!” We hear Sam yelling from the upstairs balcony of the house, and if it weren’t for the immediate action we jumped into, I would have had time to process the fact that Sam just used the word love.

JAKE

Only all that is necessary…

You always think about what you would grab and take with you if your house was burning down, but when it actually came down to it, you always knew you’d be able to gather resources again. Meals from a neighbor, supplies from the store, fuel from a gas station… 

But when it comes down, truly, to only what is necessary… I think I’ve drawn a blank. 

The empty backpack sits open in my hands as I kneel in the closet of the stranger’s house, my eyes scanning over the clothing that once kept this person warm. Sweaters that his wife had gifted him, socks with holes he had worn in, boots still covered in mud and debris from the hike he didn’t know was going to be his last... 

I swallow hard as my eyes scan even further into the bottom of the closet, shelves full of old memorabilia, high-school basketball trophies, photo albums, old vinyl records… these were part of someone’s life. And I am taking it, because I need to survive. 

“I can’t do this…” I mutter, shaking my head of the sudden overwhelming feeling of impeding into someone’s personal space, though their earthly body is long gone from this home. 

“You have to,” I hear from the doorway, looking up to see Robbie looking back at me. “Promise you, this guy wouldn’t care.”

I huff through my nose. “How would you know, did you know him?”

“No, but I feel like if he knew that it’s the actual end of the earth, the seasons are blending, your family was kidnapped by inhabitants of another world, and you’re running around with mythical creatures while you’re being hunted and used for your mind, I’m pretty positive he wouldn’t care if you stole a pair of socks or two,” Robbie says sarcastically as he gnaws on a long piece of red candy. “Twizzler?”

I laugh again, opening the drawer that houses the underwear and socks. “Yeah, actually, thanks. They aren’t stale?”

“Fuck yeah, they are. But it don’t bother me. Just keeps my hands and mouth busy, ya know?”

I stuff two pairs of woolen socks into a zippered part of the bag before removing my boots and slipping a fresh pair on. “You used to smoke, didn’t you?” I ask. 

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess,” I reply, reaching far back into the closet to grab a pair of the man’s old hiking boots, happy with finding we were almost the exact same size. “I would have gotten you a pack or five if I’d have known… Right before you found us, we were in an old convenience store chock full of them. That’s where Y/N and I found Sam and Danny.”

Robbie grunts a laugh as he pulls another rogue Twizzler from his pocket, handing it off to me. “Sounds like we might have to make a pitstop.” 

It does sound intriguing… A cigarette would be fucking glorious, right about now. “Might could make that happen…”

“So Y/N… you didn’t know her before?” he asks, piquing my interest.

I shake my head. “No, just in the pods. She used to listen to us a lot, like you and Josiah did, so I guess she knew me, kinda… Why?”

I see him shrug from the corner of my eye. “Just wonderin’. Ya’ll seem pretty close.”

I shrug back, pulling a hoodie off a metal hanger. “Guess you could say that.” I pop the Twizzler into my mouth and bite off the end, zipping the overfull bag closed and tossing it over my shoulder. “Kinda feel like she’s mine to protect.”

He tosses me the last candy in his pocket as I stand and face him, watching his jaw work as he chews. “Raid the bathroom, too,” he suggests. “Soap would be nice.”

—-

“Got everything you need?” I ask Y/N as everyone gathers out back again. We’re all in a slow-motion hurry, now, as the morning is slowly drifting into noon. 

“Uh, yeah, think so,” she says, zipping the oversized pullover she’d found up around her chin, and pulling a toboggan down over her ears. “It’s so hard to think about it being so hot at night, and there’s ice blowing through the air, now…”

“I know, everything is so backwards,” I agree, leaning down to re-tie my boots. 

As I stand back up, she pulls me to the side, causing me to stumble a little bit into her. “Come here…” she whispers, her hand gripped hard in my jacket. 

“Yeah, whoa, yeah?” I laugh as she catches my fall and takes me in her embrace. 

“I found something else, while I was searching the house,” she whispers, her eyes trained on my face. 

“Oh?” I ask. “What’d you find?”

She reaches into her pocket, pulling out a brand new razor and a tiny bottle of travel shaving cream. My face falls and I feel my lips flatten into a sarcastic look. “What, you got a problem with this more rugged side of me, or somethin’?” I rake my fingernails through my beard, scratching hard at it. 

She glances around and sees that everyone else is taken up by their own tasks before she wraps her hands in my jacket, pulling me forward into her and around the corner of the house. We stumble back underneath the second-floor porch, hiding in the shadows and away from the wind a bit. She grips me again, pulling me into her as she speaks. 

“No. I love it. Really suits you,” she murmurs, her eyes traveling quickly from my eyes to my mouth. I watch as her breath turns to steam as she exhales, heavy and hot even in the blistering cold. It’s strange to say, but I almost feel like she beckons me without even saying a word. 

And fuck, she is so…

“Know what else I love about it? You feel more mature to me like this, I’ve always been one to prefer facial hair.”

“So I’m guessing you hated it when I used to shave my mustache off for shows, then?” I implore with a teasing tone, leaning in and letting my nose drift over hers playfully. “I couldn’t even grow a beard until I turned 31…”

“Yeah, used to get real fuckin’ mad about it,” she smiles, lurching her hips into mine. “We all used to place bets on if you’d show up with or without one. I lost most of the time, because you always shaved the damned thing off. But I guess it’s also cool that I’m the only one who’s ever seen you like this…”

I growl a laugh, gritting my teeth and feeling the need to be near her again. I feel flushed, even in the cold blowing air, but being near her makes me forget about every bad thing that’s surrounding us. I let my cold hands snake up under her coat, searching like hell to find her bare skin. Finally I find her stomach, attaching my cold palms to it and her hips. “Yeah, actually, I guess you’re right. Just you…”

“Fuck…” she breathes, her body shivering from my touch. “Just me?”

“Just you…” I repeat, taking her bottom lip between my teeth. God, she makes me want to lay her the fuck down, right here in this freezing cold grass. My mind begins spinning with want again as I feel her body weight pressing itself into me, my hands beginning to freely do what they please underneath her layers of shirts, just as they had last night. “What’s the razor for, then? If you like it so well?” 

Her hand comes up and grips the base of my neck, squeezing hard as I allow my hands to finally grip at her tits. She lets out a pitiful sound as her head falls back a little, spurring me on to keep exploring. I can feel her nipples hardening in my fingers, and I’m fighting with everything in me to stop myself from getting too excited, but the more her chest heaves, the harder it gets to concentrate. Her lips are ghosting across mine, and I feel her warm breath landing on my tongue. I need to taste her again.

“Just giving you the option to shave, if you wanted to,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering open and closed. “If not, you can pass it off to Danny.”

Her hand comes around and grips at my jaw, forcing me to thrust my hips into her again. I feel warm all over, almost as if the wind isn’t cutting us in two. There’s no way she can’t tell I’m impossibly hard now, and if the circumstances were different…

“If you like it, I love it,” I breathe into her as our bodies begin lurching and craning onto each other, my hands still massaging at her breasts. God, what I’d give to see her…

“Kiss me, Jake,” she mumbles into my mouth, our lips already almost touching, anyway. My mouth finally overtakes hers, my tongue unable to fight any longer as it begins exploring without any warning. She reacts the same way, pressing her chest more harshly into my hands, practically begging me to feel her even more. We stay this way for a minute or so, just like we did by the koi pond, our bodies pressing and moving as I forcefully back her up against the cold block wall of the house. 

She pushes me away a little, but catches her fingertips in the waistband of my pants, giving her a split second’s access to slip her hand inside. God fucking damnit. 

I take it as it comes as I feel her frozen hand work its way into my boxers, wasting no time in taking me fully in her hand. “Jesus Christ, baby…” I all but moan as I feel my head tilt back on its own. I reach for the wall behind her to steady myself as she squeezes me, her palm soft and gentle but using a little bit of force to show me what she wants. I come in close again, kissing her like my life fully depends on it. “Mmhmm…” I moan against her, my lips vibrating onto hers. 

“Call me baby again,” she whispers when we disconnect for a second to breathe. 

“Baby, baby, baby…” I say quietly, rolling my hips into her hand. “I’ll call you anything you fuckin’ want…”

She whimpers quietly into my mouth again as she pulls at my hair, knotted and ratty at the base of my neck. I’m reminded again of the thought of what she actually sees in me right now, dirty and gritted and unclean, but then again, she probably thinks of herself all the same. Her hair is tangled, her features are tired and a little sunburnt, yet I see her as the most beautiful thing I’ve encountered in ages. All of the things that society deemed as making a person desirable have flown out the window. Because truly, none of it fucking matters. 

Her hand grips around me again as my fingernails dig into the cinderblock, pulsing and throbbing as she takes her time with her show of intimacy. The essence of her is satiating all my senses… her taste, her scent, her touch… 

Then it hits me- this is the rawest I’ve ever felt in my life. 

Attraction comes in all shapes and sizes, and when you stumble upon it, it can either knock you down or confuse you even further. I’ve always been positive in what I want; I know exactly what attracts me and keeps my attention. And I’ve prided myself on that. Coming of age also determines and filters out what you do and do not want in life, and in a lover. And I know that my vision is blurred right now with this overwhelming need to fornicate, but shit, if she isn’t turning all of my past ideals about myself and what I want on their fucking tops. 

She’s different… she’s headstrong and brave, smarter than I could ever even think about being. She’s bold, and she’s unashamed. She acts as though she comes from a time that she didn’t have any business being in. She’s fucking beautiful, taking my breath away with every stolen glance. Yet she’s reserved in all the ways that I am… thinking before she speaks, studying people before she trusts them. I can tell all of this about her, and I’ve committed it all to memory, and I’ve only known her for less than a few weeks. 

Raw, unbridled and desperate, the wind biting at our cheeks as the wetness of our kiss coats our lips and faces, her hand gripping over me still, without any shyness about her aura, at all. Her preference of privacy stunning me as she shows me that she wants me just as badly as I want her. Not because of who she knew me as for the majority of our lives, but who she sees me as right now, untamed and ravenous for one another. And I am fucking enamored.

My hand leaves her breast and travels to grip her ass, covered in layers of pants and coveralls, but I don’t care. I hike her leg up across my hip, letting our bodies become closer as the cold wind whips through the bright green trees. I glance around every few seconds so that I’m positive we’re still alone, though at this point my mind is so fogged with desire that I truly couldn’t care less if we were caught. Her body is warm and inviting, and I let my fingers grip into the muscle between her ass and thigh, squeezing and kneading the skin there as her body rolls into mine again. 

“Would it be too forward of me to say that I fucking want you?” I blurt out with a forced whisper, my mouth overtaking my mind for just a second.

She laughs a little as we separate, her pupils blown as she shakes her head quickly from side to side. “No. It wouldn’t be too forward at all,” she says, squeezing me harder than she has, yet. “I’m the one with my hand on your cock, stupid.”

Fuck fuck fuck. Shit, get it together. My body shudders as I let out a quiet grunt of aggravation, completely blown with desire as my fist pounds into the wall that’s holding us up.

I swear if we weren’t fucking leaving in two goddamned minutes…

“I swear to god, baby, I do…” I growl again, making her grip on me move at a quicker pace. 

Just then we’re surprised by loud conversation near the fire pit, a rustle of everyone gathering up again breaking us from our intertwinement. She removes her hand from my pants and I adjust myself, rolling my eyes at our interruption as my teeth grit with annoyance. We both look at one another with the tiniest bit of shame on our faces, pink and wet with the after-effects of the session. I nod to the side as I silently tell her we’d better go. 

“Wait, Jake,” she whispers, pulling me back by the hand a little. “That’s not what I really wanted to give you.” Her closed fist stuffs into my jacket pocket and drops something inside it, and I watch her coyly turn and walk away with the sweetest smirk on her lips. 

Puzzled, I reach into the pocket and feel the familiar feeling of a small plastic package in my hand. A condom. I can’t help the cheesy smile that crosses my face even if I wanted to. I pull it out to inspect it, looking first and foremost for an expiration date. 

I glance back at her, purely entertained by her bold action. “2034,” she answers the question I didn’t even have to ask. “Actually found a whole box. We’ve got all kinds of time.” She shoots me a wink as she tops back into the gravel pit, going to join the others without me so as not to raise too much suspicion. 

Truly, if she thinks we’re waiting that long, she can go ahead and keep lying to herself. She has no idea what she’s doing to me, and it’s only worsening as the hours tick. For a mere five minutes, my carnal needs completely overshadowed the fact that we’re about to go on a mission that could cost us our lives, and the fact that my brother is currently being fucking brainwashed by entities that belong to another realm completely. I punish myself, but only for a second, as I know for a fact he would go on some big tirade about how humans need sex to thrive and survive in life. He wouldn’t fault me for it at all. In fact, he’d probably celebrate it with me. 

—

“Everyone gather, here is what we’re going to do,” Odin presents himself with a commanding tone, looking each of us in the eye as he speaks. We all take our places near the extinguished fire pit, backpacks and supplies in hand as we all listen intently. I try my best to calm my nerves and take in every detail of his directions, knowing that things could change at the drop of a hat. 

“Josiah and Robbie have reason to believe that your families have been taken to another set of pods just south of here, where no sinkholes have been reported as of yet. These pods are a bit smaller, locked down just as the ones you were in, but if they are going to be anywhere nearby, we assume that it is there,” he explains. “We will travel as a unit, sleep in shifts, and take cover as much as possible under the hindrance of the treelines. The brothers will scout, but we’ve decided it best to arm you, as well.”

Shit. I’ve fired a gun maybe twice, three times in my life? But when it comes to life or death…

The brothers bring us firearms that they’d found inside the home, passing them off to Danny and I. I throw it across my back and hope to the heavens above that muscle memory would kick in, had I need to actually use it. 

“I don’t believe that you will actually need these, as I will be with you always and our most dangerous threat are the hooded guards, of whom I can put to sleep with an arrow,” Odin goes on. “And I’m sorry, we can’t risk the sound of gunshot giving away our location. The smoke from this fire was already too much.”

We all bid a silent goodbye to the house that gave us the shelter we needed, and took off on foot from the coverage of the yard and nearby woodline, watching and waiting for the next threat to come our way.

Y/N

Was I too forward? Did I say too much? Did I move too fast… was the condom overkill?

A million and a half questions are rolling through my mind as we all traverse the heavy trails, making our way south to the other set of pods. We know it will be about a day’s travel, but luckily, with the guidance of Odin and the newfound spirit Sparrow had instilled in each of us, we know the journey will be fruitful. Treacherous, and probably a bit dramatic, but fruitful. Now that we have a better idea of where our families are, and likely Paps, I have a bit more pep in my step to get to him. And to Josh. 

Of course it wasn’t overkill, he reacted exactly how I expected him to. He even said he wanted me. Hello? Me?? I don’t even know what is happening between Jake and I, it’s difficult to even fathom. Just months ago he was an image on my phone screen or a video on my stupid tikok feed, but now. Now… 

I find myself wanting to text my friends again. Say, ‘You are never going to fucking believe this. Like, you’re really not…’, and they really wouldn’t. It’d be too good to be true. It’d take convincing, it’d take proof, it’d take receipts. I can hear them all squealing through voice memos, sending long strings of mismatched letters that don’t form words, immediate facetimes so they could watch me explain myself to their faces. Listen to every detail that we had all envisioned at one point or another in our lives.

But it’d never happen. I don’t even know if they’re all alive. 

“Watcha thinkin’ about?” I hear Sam’s voice suddenly startle me from watching my feet walk across the ground. 

“Oh, ah, nothing. Just…my friends,” I say to him, giving him a sullen smile as I pull my jacket closer around me. “I was thinking about what they’d say if I could tell them that I ended up meeting up with you guys. If they’d believe me.”

“Hm,” he laughs. “You think they would?”

“It’d take some convincing, but, I think they’d know I wouldn’t make something like that up,” I grin, pulling a few pieces of tree limbs away from my path. 

“Crazy that we all ended up here,” he says. “Crazy how we all found each other.”

“I know,” I breathe, glancing to Jake ten or so steps ahead of me. “I never even thought I’d even get to have a conversation with any of you, let alone–”

“Sneak off with one under a porch?” he cuts me off. 

I– oh fuck.

“Sam, what– what are you talking about,” I stutter, my face falling into a deep dark shade of red. Oh my god, if he saw us…

He lets out his classic guttural ha-ha laugh as a particularly harsh wind rips through us. His loud laugh causes Jake and Danny to whip around and look at us, and I shoot them and Sam a deathly glare. But I know that Jake probably notices the worry on my face. 

“I’m not gonna rat you out, don’t worry,” he goes on. “I didn’t see anything… just… watched you sneak off. That’s all. The rest wasn’t my business.”

“The rest?” I squeak, trying to stay quiet. “Sam!”

He’s gritting his teeth together in a huge, shit-eating smile, hissing annoying little laughs as he pulls sticks free from our way. I feel like I could trip him and watch him eat dirt right now, the little twit. Jake keeps turning around and glancing at us; he knows his brother is digging himself a cute little hole to jump into if he isn’t careful. 

“What the fuck do you think happened?” I press, kind of wanting to hear what he has to say. 

“Hey, I said it’s none of my business,” he goes on, puffing his cheeks up with air as he avoids laughing again. “My brother’s love life isn’t any concern of mine.” 

Will you please quit using that word, Samuel…

“God, can you just, not? Please?” I bark in a quiet tone, completely enjoying this back and forth with him. “I already feel weird enough…”

“Why?” he asks way too quickly. 

“Because,” I bite. I toss my hands up, trying to get him to understand. “I was, ya know… A fan, and stuff, and now it’s like..” 

“Oh whatever,” he interrupts me. “Hey Y/N, the goddamn world is ending and all our loved ones got killed by a flesh-eating rash. Yours did, ours did. There’s no such thing as levels of hierarchy anymore, if that’s the way you’re looking at it. We’re just fucking humans, ya know? We’re all just out here trying to survive this shit. Please don’t think like that…” he says a little confrontationally. “We could run into freaking Taylor Swift right now, and she’d still be trudging along in this damned frozen jungle just as we are.” 

I giggle at his comparison, as corny as it is, feeling just a little more at ease. “You’re right, you’re right. Just. Strange, I guess.”

He shrugs. “It is strange, Y/N. Nothing about anything that has happened in the past year is anything close to normal. But… maybe you were meant to run into him in the pods. Maybe it was meant to be this way, who knows?”

I nod, glancing again up to Odin and Sparrow on the horse to make sure they haven’t noticed any threats. 

“You guys are cute together, too,” he adds. 

I roll my eyes. “Ugh, Sam, don’t make me gag. I will shove you down onto this thorn bush.”

“I’m serious,” he laughs. “I don’t mean to poke fun at you. I’m just saying, maybe this is a really, really good thing, Y/N. He seems… I dunno. Excited. Even while worrying about Josh. It’s like you come around and he’s instantly relaxed. I think you have more of an effect on him than you realize.”

“HOLD!” Odin suddenly says from the front of the group, holding his fist high in the air as everyone freezes where we stand. My heart begins pattering as he slowly hops down from his horse, leading Sparrow to do the same. I watch as he pulls his bow from his back and loads it, Sparrow doing the same as she pulls her sword from it’s sheath at her side. 

“Fuck, what’s happening, what’s going on?” I whisper to Sam as he instantly grabs onto my shoulder, quietly leading us nearer to the front with Danny and Jake. 

The brothers bring up the rear and have their weapons drawn and ready. I don’t hear anything, and I don’t see anything, but I do feel Jake’s hand land forcefully on my hip as we gather in a protective circle. 

“Do not fire your weapon unless we say so, got it?” Robbie says to Jake and Danny as he passes, and I feel my heart drop. They both nod in understanding. The brothers exchange a few hand signals as they quickly dash off the trail beside us, keeping eyes with Odin as they scout around. 

“What did they hear?” Jake asks us, and we all shrug as our eyes stay trained on our surroundings. The wind has settled a bit, but the sun is bright and hot as it shines through the leaves of the trees. There’s bits of ice on the tall grasses beside us, and I feel myself become disoriented with the way the weather is working, again. 

I feel my heart pounding in my ears as my eyes scatter around the thick woods, Jake’s hand clutching mine protectively, now. I hear cracks in the trees, I hear steps that don’t sound like steps. High up, and down low. Sparrow backs up toward us, her dusty light following her as the wind floats her long hair into the air. 

A fast glance from Odin tells her something I cannot read, and he quickly hops back onto his horse, kicking his leg into its side as it takes off just off the pathway. They’ve disappeared and we’re still left clueless, the brothers back from their scout and closed in, just as confused as we are. 

“What was that?” I ask Sparrow quietly, my hot breath floating like smoke across the air. 

“More guards, they aren’t very close, but we can sense when they’re near,” she replies. “Their tactics to find us are becoming more clever, as they are now being told that you’re missing from the pods. And that Josiah and Robbie have turned on them.”

“They can come and fuckin’ get us, if they want us,” Robbie snarls as he readjusts his weapon. “Pardon my language, Ma’am.” 

I watch Sparrow smirk, giving him a look that says she is the last one he should worry about offending. 

“Come, let’s continue on,” she says as she draws her sword and keeps it protectively at her side as we keep going. “Odin will alert me if anything is close.”

It feels like my feet don’t want to move without me actively telling them to, now. The fear that’s beginning to settle in my bones has grown tenfold after that scare, and without me being able to see Odin. He has become a wall of peace and protection for us in the past few days, and it feels strange not having him in my line of sight. 

But still yet, Jake’s hand clutches mine, and to me, that feels more safe than anything else in our crumbling world. 

We walk along for another silent twenty minutes or so, clumped together and anxious along what used to be an old worn-in path used by hikers and bikers, now very much overgrown and succumbing to the wild again. Thorns catch on my clothing, and rocks and dirt scatter as I step, but we keep along, our eyes watchful and patrolling as we head south. I wish to god Odin would reappear. 

As we walk in the quiet, my mind drifts to Paps and what he might be doing right now, what they might be doing to him. Watching him be ripped away from me might be one of the most aggravating and terrifying things I’ve ever had to witness, and even though I know he is the strongest man I know, deep down I know that he hides his fears. 

If they really have taken him as a pawn for their testing, will he still have his memory? Will he remember me at all?

I feel a shudder as the frigid air envelops me and bites at the tip of my nose, making me feel like I’m frozen to the core. This cold feels different, especially with the sun shining so brightly. It doesn’t feel like it used to, it almost seems as though the debilitating feeling of fear is sewn into it, nefariously making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My body doesn’t shake with the chill anymore, but it shakes with the unending fear of not knowing what the next second of my life will hold. What the earth will be doing. If we will be alive tomorrow or not. And the most terrifying thought of it all, is that there is nothing we can do to change it.

The wicked shiver chills me down to my soul…only time will tell.

I miss Paps so badly, and I want nothing more than to get to him. The possibility of their family being in the same pod as Paps is likely, which makes me feel a little bit better, but what are we going to do when we get there? Ambush the place? Sneak in a back door while we try not to get caught?

Surely Odin and Sparrow have thought it through, and I’m sure that the brothers have some sort of plan as to how to infiltrate the building. Or maybe, we’re just flying along with no plan at all. Because truly, none of us know the reality of what we're walking into.

Sam and Danny trail behind me, steadfast and courageous, truly grown into the men that I always envisioned they might have. I know they are just as worried as Jake is of what state of mind we will find Josh in, but I think they are holding it together for him. They don’t want to speak- yet- and bring such a horrific reality to life. If Josh is too far gone, and his mind is not his own anymore, will we have to leave him behind for the safety of ourselves?

I can’t even fathom that thought, right now. There is no way that will be our new reality. Starting a new life without Josh is just…

The sun has begun to slip behind the trees, and I know that the heat will return soon and we will all be sweating in the night air instead of freezing. I’m ready to feel a little relief from this new shiver that’s taken up shop in the deepest tissues of my body. In the back of my mind, I hope that Sparrow’s ability to make us all feel more at ease doesn’t take away from her energy source; she doesn’t know how badly we all need her.

Just as my mind feels as though it’s completely shoved full of too many unanswered thoughts, heavy cloud coverage moves in over the sun and begins casting strange shadows across the thick woods around us, and suddenly, my wicked shiver turns from a physical feeling into a subconscious gut suspicion of uneasiness. 

The wind hasn’t blown in minutes, now. 

I slow my steps, glancing around through the trees as darkness begins to shower us, faster and faster. Odin isn’t back yet, and the air feels as if it is standing still and creeping in around us. Something isn’t right. 

Suddenly I get the urge to pause and listen, stopping myself in my tracks as Sam bumps into me from behind. “Whoa, what’s–”

“Shh,” I hold my hand up to him, watching as Jake has noticed I’ve stopped, too. 

“You’re right, child, something feels wrong,” Sparrow says quietly from in front of Jake. Her hand grips her sword more tightly as she cranes her neck all over, looking up and around and through the woods. My chest tightens as I feel as though I’m preparing myself for something, something that has intention to hurt me. Hurt all of us. The feeling that I had when Paps and I had driven the truck into town and were stopped by those creatures has come back full force. Like a dark black cloud is hanging over me, and there is no way I am ever going to wash the feeling of dread from my psyche. 

Within seconds, the sunlight is almost completely gone. Jake’s hand takes mine again as we all press together in a terrified huddle, the brothers at the edges with their weapons drawn. “What is this? What’s happening?” Jake relents. I feel myself beginning to panic, my head darting side to side erratically as I begin to hear unfamiliar sounds coming from the forest. Not birds, not animals… there is no wind to rustle the trees, and there is no way of seeing what is now surely closing in on us. But I can feel it.

“Stay close, everyone, it seems as though we’re surrounded…” Sparrow says a little more loudly now. Her voice is panicked for the first time since we’ve met her. “Odin, Odin, where are you?” she says to herself, drawing her weapon higher. 

It’s dark, now. Pitch black. The world feels more hollow than it ever has. My skin feels like it could fall from my body as my depraved mindset becomes more and more dreadful. I know that whatever is surrounding us in the shadows is draining every ounce of happiness from my body, and try as I might, I can’t form one positive or uplifting thought. 

“Don’t let it consume you, my loves, don’t let it…” I hear Sparrow's voice as a loud hum begins to eat away at my ear drums, deafening me to almost totality. I grip onto Jake’s hand as we all crowd in together, writhing under the feeling of being so suddenly enclosed and debilitated. I can’t even see what’s around us. Not even Sparrow’s overwhelming power of comfort can match whatever it is they are putting onto us. 

“We should run!” I hear Danny suggest, the drone of the hum making him sound like he is a million miles away. “Let’s go!!” 

I feel him pull away from us as I begin to become disoriented, weakening as the seconds tick. “Jake.. I–” I can hardly form any words as I feel like all my energy is depleting. His hand is still latched tightly onto mine, and I begin to see spurts of light through the darkness of my vision, blurry and bright as my eyelids get heavy. 

“Y/N, no!” I hear his voice in my ear, the sweetest sound I have ever heard. “We’ve got to run, we’ve got to go!” Suddenly I feel as though every emotion has been ripped away from my body. 

Where is my gumption? Nothing matters, we’re all going to die, anyway. 

“Sweet Y/N, run!” Sparrow urges me, too, as I feel Jake begin to pull me along just as I had pulled him through the building as it crumbled into the sinkhole around us back at the pod. 

I can’t move, just leave me here. 

I feel my knees hit the dirt at the same time that I feel many sets of unwelcome hands all over me, burning through my thick coats and jackets as they touch me. The hum grows louder and louder, and my blood grows thicker and thicker. Just leave me…

I’m being pulled two ways- one way with the burning hands and one way toward the man whom I have come to adore so intensely, but I could somehow care less who ends up with me. I don’t even mind one way or the other. My endurance is gone. 

Jake squeezes my hands in the darkness, pulling me with everything in him as I feel Sam and Danny join him in his attempts. “Don’t let go of me, Y/N! Do you hear me!” he screams, his voice so worried and terrified. Why are you so scared, Jake? Why do you care about me? “Don’t let her go, Danny! Don’t let her slip!”

“She’s ours, now, you all belong to us…” I hear the crippling voice of the hooded guard say from behind me. I recognize the sing-song voice from their first attempts at taking us, like sirens luring us into the deepest depths of the night. “There’s nothing you can do, your world is a star defying time… you must come with us…”

Everything is blurry, nothing has shape. The burning hands are gripping at all points of my body, now, as I feel like I’m being ripped in two. I hear Sparrow’s shrieks in the distance, and I feel Jake’s grip on my hands begin to weaken. 

“Sam, Sam, get up! Let’s go! I– I can’t hold you both–”

His hands feel like my only anchors to the earth, sure and grounding, but I can’t find the strength to even try and hold on to them. He’s slipping from me, and it’s then that I realize he’s being pulled by them, too. 

We’re being taken. And there’s nothing we can do to stop it.

“Y/N, baby, please!” I hear his honeyed voice again, still so perfect even when he’s terrified. Don’t be so scared, Jake… you shouldn’t even be worried about me. I mean nothing to you. 

“Let GO of me!!” he yells, but it’s no use. He’s ten paces away from me now as I realize that our hands have finally separated, and the burning hands are still holding me. His screaming voice is nothing but a howl in the distance. “Y/N!!!”

My body feels limp and lifeless as the burning hands hold me upright, pulling my body across bushes and grasses and limbs, my legs and feet falling behind me. But I don’t even care. Why don’t I care? Death is probably soon, anyway. Nothing matters.

The eyes of the creatures taking me are burning a bright red, the drone of the hum still prevalent in my ears. 

Again I hear his voice calling out for me across the hillside, bouncing off the treetrunks and cutting through the warming air as the sound of it warms my soul and kills it at the same time. I want him, I need him… he’s the only thing that’s kept my head above water… But our magnets have somehow lost their polarity. I dig down deep and plead with myself, and whoever in the heavens above will listen to forsake me this one time, and bring me out on the other side of this. I have to help them, I have to find Paps… 

Jake…Please… Don’t let them keep me…

Tags: @gretavangroupie @britney-gvf @sacredstarcatcher @wetkleenex-gvf @farfromthehomelands @takenbythemadness @writingcold @builtbybrokenbells @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @fleet-of-fiction @milkgemini @gvfpal @ageofcj@dancingcarbon @highway-tuna @stardustjake @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @gvfmarge @gracev0609 @myleftsock @literal-dead-leaf @peaceloveunitygvf @ageofbajabule @slut4lando @jordie-gvf @sadiechar @tinydancer40 @rosabellagvf @capnjaket @lyndz2names @thetroublegetssoloud71 @gretavanomens @spark-my-nature @josh-iamyour-mama @anythingforjtk @alwaysonthemend @danieljlmwagner @klarxtr @fortunatelytinybasement @demonrat444 @gretavansara @watchingover-hypegirl @hippievanfleet @digitalnomadz @raviolilegs @lipstickitty @hippievanfleet @klarxtr @strange-whorizons @do-it-jakey-baby @myownparadise96 @gvf-luna @starshine-wagner @cassiesgreta @joopsandjangs @whimsiliz @kiszkas-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick@kiszka-canvas @whimsiliz @joopsandjangs @broken0mens @scoreofinfantryvines @whereiskeara @do-it-jakey-baby @miravanfleet @heckingfrick @jenniferkiszka @jjwasneverhere @gvfmarge @pineapple-photographer @vanfleeter @gretnavannfleet @pineapple-photographer @joshylanefleet @becinabubblegvf @ageofmach1ne

[suddencolds]

Atypical Occurrence [2/?]

hello!! 10 drafts and (exactly) 3 months later, I am finally back with part 2 of Atypical Occurrence 😭 You can read part 1 here!

This chapter is a little personal to me. I don't tend to linger on writing scenes like this (in part because they are a little difficult for me), so it took awhile to hammer out the dynamic I wanted. That said, here it is at long last!!

This is an OC fic ft. Vincent and Yves. Here is a list of everything I’ve written for these two! :)

—

Summary: Vincent shows up late to a meeting. It just goes downhill from there. (ft. fake dating, the flu, a house visit, and certain revelations)

—

There’s a grocery store that’s a ten minute drive from Vincent’s apartment. Yves picks out ingredients for chicken soup, two different kinds of cold and flu medicine, a new pack of cough drops, a few boxes of tissues, a small thermometer. All in all, it’s less than a thirty minute excursion—something he’s done many times before in uni, where everyone seemed to catch something in the middle of exam season, and a house visit was just a short walk away.

Chicken noodle soup isn’t difficult. He’s made it a hundred times—he’s experimented with a dozen different variations of it. He puts the groceries in the fridge, washes the vegetables, and gets to work.

While the soup cooks, he half watches it, half busies himself with cleaning the apartment—loading up the dishwasher and hand washing everything that doesn’t fit, stocking the fridge and the medicine cabinet with the groceries he’s gotten, vacuuming the floors with a vacuum cleaner he finds tucked behind the fridge.

Then he shreds the chicken, chops a round of fresh vegetables to add to the broth, and waits.

 It’s comfortably quiet. Outside, rain drums steadily on the windowpane. It shows no signs of stopping soon. It’s dark enough outside—the sun fully set, the clouds heavy overhead—that the lit interior of the apartment kitchen feels like a warm reprieve.

Yves likes cooking. He doesn’t actively enjoy doing chores, but there’s something comforting to how mindless they are. It’s an appreciated distraction. 

The rain outside is loud enough that he doesn’t hear the footsteps, approaching, until Vincent clears his throat from behind him.

Yves jumps.

“You’re up,” he says, spinning on his heels to face him. Vincent looks a little worse for the wear—his hair a little messy, his shirt slightly rumpled from sleep, his glasses perched haphazardly in place.

Yves watches him take everything in—the pot on the stove, the chopping board set out on the counter, the empty paper bags from the grocery run flattened and stacked into neat rectangles.

“And you’re still here,” Vincent says.

“I made soup,” Yves says, by way of explanation. “It’s chicken noodle. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for trying something new.” He reaches over to lift the lid off of the pot of soup. Steam wafts up from it, carrying with it the faint scent of the aromatics he’d added—thyme, bay leaf, garlic, peppercorns. “Actually, you picked a good time to wake up. I just added in the noodles, so it’s almost done.”

Vincent eyes the pot, his expression unreadable. “Did you leave to get groceries?”

“Earlier, yeah. You weren’t kidding about your fridge being empty.”

Vincent frowns. “I can pay you back. Did you keep the receipt?”

In truth, the price of the groceries is the last thing on Yves’s mind right now. He waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It must have taken a long time.”

“Soup is pretty forgiving. You just toss everything into a pot of boiling water and wait. It’s barely any work at all.”

Vincent stares at him for a moment longer. Then he says: “That’s an oversimplification.”

“Not really. Besides, I enjoy cooking,” Yves says. “Thanks for letting me use your kitchen—though, technically, I guess I’m asking forgiveness instead of permission. I’ll clean everything up, by the way.” He’s done dishes along the way, so there isn’t really much to do besides rinse off whatever’s left, load up the dishwasher, and store whatever’s left of the soup in the fridge.

“You don’t have to,” Vincent says, before turning into his elbow with a few harsh, grating coughs. “I can clean up. It’s my apartment.”

“If you think I’m letting you do household chores while you have a fever—”

“It’s not that high,” Vincent interrupts, perhaps a little stubbornly. Yves lets out a disbelieving laugh. He leans over the counter, shifts his weight forwards on his feet to press the back of his hand to Vincent’s forehead.

It’s concerningly hot, still, which isn’t a surprise. Though perhaps the way Vincent blinks, a little tiredly, and leans forward into Yves’s hand is a giveaway on its own.

“It’s definitely over a hundred,” Yves says, withdrawing his hand. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll have you know that I bought a thermometer.”

For a moment, Vincent looks surprised. Then he sighs. “That was an unnecessary purchase.”

“Are you admitting that I’m right?”

Vincent just frowns at him, which—Yves notes—isn’t exactly a denial. “Fever or not, there’s not much I can do except sleep it off.”

“You can go back to sleep after you’ve had something to eat,” Yves says. “What was it that you said? That you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday?”

“...You won’t leave unless I eat, then,” Vincent says. He says it evenly enough that it barely registers as a question.

Yves smiles at him. It’s not a wrong conclusion. “Exactly,” he says.

—

In between the hallway and Vincent’s kitchen is a small dining area, furnished with a high table and two high chairs. Yves waits until the noodles are cooked just enough. Then he turns off the stove, unrolls a placemat to lay out on the dining table, and carries the pot over.

He gets everything he needs: two bowls, two spoons, some of the fresh parsley he’d chopped earlier, for garnish—and lays it all out.

“I can help,” Vincent says, for maybe the third time. 

He’s seated on one of the chairs, which Yves had pointedly pulled out for him, looking like he’s perhaps a few seconds away from getting out of his seat and doing everything himself. It’s just like Vincent, Yves thinks, to offer to help—even at work, aside from all the work he takes on, it feels like he’s always finding some way or other to be useful. 

Yves says, “When you’re not running a fever, you can ask me again.”

When everything is laid out, he pulls up a chair for himself, so he can sit across from Vincent—who is still perched on his seat, though he looks a little less like he wants to get out of it. “You didn’t have to wait for me,” Yves says.

Vincent blinks at him. “It would have been rude to get started on my own.”

“Nonsense,” Yves says. “I made it for you.”

He takes a bite. The soup tastes fine. That is, it tastes the same as every other time he’s made it—light and comforting. It’s just one of those recipes Yves thinks he can make in his sleep. Nothing about it is particularly inventive. Still, he hasn’t cooked for Vincent before—not formally, at least, other than the dish he’d bought to Joel’s potluck—so it’s a little nerve-wracking to watch Vincent take a bite. 

It’s worse, still, to watch his eyes widen by a fraction. For a moment, Yves wonders if he’s done something wrong—if perhaps, it isn’t to Vincent’s taste, after all. He sets his spoon down. “Is it okay?”

“It’s really good,” Vincent says. “I can see why Mikhail said what he said.” 

“What?”

“That your cooking was half the reason why he roomed with you.”

Yves laughs. “So does that mean you’ll forgive me for trespassing?” 

Vincent smiles back at him. “I’ll consider it.” Now, with his glasses off, Yves can see his eyes a little more clearly—they’re slightly red-rimmed, his eyelashes long and dark, his cheeks flushed brighter with fever. There’s a little crease at the edge of his eyes which shows up when he smiles.

Yves is caught off guard, for a moment. The tightness in his chest is nothing, he tells himself. Certainly not a crush that he shouldn’t be allowed to have. 

A crush. That’s new, too. It’s ironic, considering the terms of their fake relationship. He thinks it’s probably supposed to make him better at this—what better way to feign romantic interest than to not have his feelings be so fake, after all?—but instead, he finds himself at an uncharacteristic loss for words, finds himself stumbling over the most basic of pleasantries. 

Of course, he has no intention of acting on his feelings. Vincent is attractive, yes—but he’s also considerate, and attentive, and hardworking enough to go early and stay late, to take on work he doesn’t get credit for. He’s thoughtful enough to entertain Yves’s friends, to have lunch with Yves’s siblings, to fly all the way to France to meet Yves’s family.

But all of that is inconsequential. None of it is going to amount to anything, because Yves knows how to keep his distance. Because Yves needs this—the perks of their fake relationship—more than he needs to indulge in any inconvenient crush. Because he knows enough to know how things would turn out if he were to say something.

That’s the thing. Vincent isn’t cruel. It’s for that reason, precisely, that Yves knows that he’d drop this arrangement immediately if he knew. Vincent would never string him along knowingly, and that’s what makes this so much worse—Yves has gone and gotten himself stupidly attached. 

Now that they’re sitting across from each other, in Vincent’s apartment, having dinner, Yves thinks—a little selfishly, perhaps—that this is the best that he can ask for. It is all that he can ask for. Far better to keep up the pretense entirely, far better to pretend that this is all just for show. When they put an end to this arrangement—someday, inevitably—Yves will thank Vincent for everything, and then they’ll go their separate ways. He already knows how it will go. There is no need to complicate things.

It’s quiet, for some time. Yves finishes his bowl first, heads over to the sink to rinse it off, and positions it neatly in the lowest compartment of the dishwasher. When he gets back, Vincent is spooning more soup into his bowl. Yves allows himself to feel a little relieved to see that he has an appetite.

“It’s been awhile,” Vincent says, after some time. “Since anyone’s done this for me.”

“Made you chicken soup?” Yves says, a little puzzled. “If you want the recipe, I can give it to you. I make it all the time.”

“No,” Vincent says. His expression is unparseable. “Just— since anyone’s looked after me, in general.”

“Oh.” Yves finds his mind is spinning. “How long have you been living alone?”

“Since university. I had suitemates, in my second year. Then I got an apartment of my own.”

“Because you like the privacy?”

“It was just simplest.”

Yves thinks back to his years, rooming with Mikhail—the conversations they’d have to have to figure out groceries, to alternate cooking dinner and doing dishes, to manage transportation. He has a studio apartment now, too, but he’s over at his neighbors’ house frequently enough, or otherwise at home with Leon and Victoire for dinner, so it doesn’t really get lonely.

“You have a pretty spacious kitchen,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind that I used your pots and pans. I’ll wash them, I swear.”

Vincent takes in a small, sharp breath. Yves looks up just in time to see him twist away from the table, tenting his hands over his nose and mouth.

“hhIHh’IIKTS-HHuhh-!”

“Bless you!” Yves exclaims. Judging by the way Vincent keeps his hands raised over his face, he assumes that there are going to be more. He rises from his seat, heads back into the kitchen in search for—ah. Six boxes of tissue boxes, stacked neatly into a block. He tears off the thin plastic film around them, removes a box from the pile, and pulls off the tab.

When he gets back to the dining table, Vincent is ducking into steepled hands with another—

“hhih’GKKT-SHHh-uuUh! hh’DDZSChh-HHuh! snf-Snf-! hhh… Hh… hh-HH-hh’yIIDDzsSHH-hHUH-!!”

The sneezes seem to scrape painfully against his throat, for the way he winces in their aftermath. He twists away from Yves to cough lightly, after, into his shoulder, his eyes watering. “Bless you!” Yves pushes the tissue box towards him. “Here.”

Vincent takes a tissue from the box, blows his nose quietly. When he emerges, lowering the tissue from his face, his eyes are a little watery. He eyes the tissue box. “Did you buy these earlier, too?”

“I did,” Yves says. “I picked up some medicine, too. I didn’t know what flavor you wanted, so I got a couple different kinds. And some other stuff—your fridge was getting pretty empty, by the way—in case you needed it.”

Vincent lifts his head to study him, as if there’s something he’s trying to understand. Finally, he says, “Do you do this for all of your friends?”

“What?”

Vincent frowns, as if the subject matter should be obvious. “Cook for them. Get groceries. Clean their apartment.”

“Sometimes,” Yves says. He’s certainly no stranger to stopping by to help—sometimes with homemade soup, or tea packed tightly in a thermos, or something else. Then again, that was easier to do back in uni, when everyone lived within a twenty minute radius. “It depends on what they need.”

“So this is just a Yves thing.”

“What? Showing consideration for my friends?” 

“Showing consideration is one thing,” Vincent answers. “You could have left after dropping off the files. You would still have been showing your consideration.”

“I guess that’s true. But at that point, I was already here,” Yves says, with a shrug. “It seemed logical to check up on you.”

“Well, now you’ve checked up on me,” Vincent says. “So you can go.”

Yves supposes this is true. 

“Do you want me to go?” he asks.

Vincent says, “It’s late. I assume you have things to get home to.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yves says.

Vincent says nothing to that.

But Yves gets the message, even without him saying it. If Vincent is the type of person who prefers to be alone when sick, Yves won’t take it personally. He doesn’t want to overstay his welcome—arguably, he’s already stayed for much longer than Vincent had invited him to.

There’s leftover soup in the fridge—enough to last Vincent a couple days, hopefully through the worst of this—and Vincent’s apartment is reasonably well-stocked now. He has something to take if his fever gets any higher; he has all the basic supplies Yves could think of off the top of his head.

And Vincent is a lot of things, but he isn’t irresponsible. He’s shown himself to be self-sufficient more times than Yves can count. There’s no reason why Yves should have to stay and look after him for any longer—no reason, perhaps, aside from the fact that seeing Vincent ill has left him more worried than he’d like to admit.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go. But at least let me clean up first.”

He does dishes, leaves the cutting boards and the pot out to dry on the drying rack, transfers the soup to smaller glass containers to store it in the fridge. He returns the vacuum cleaner to the storage closet he found it in. Then, as promised, he gathers his things—not much, just his phone and his car keys—and heads toward the front door.

Vincent follows him to the door, presumably to lock it after he leaves. 

Yves steps outside, lingers for just a moment on the doorstep. The car is parked close enough that he hadn’t bothered to grab his umbrella, but now it’s dark out, and it’s raining just as hard. 

“I left new cough drops on the kitchen countertop,” Yves says, biding his time under the overhang until he inevitably has to get rained on. “The medicine’s in your bathroom, behind the mirror, with the thermometer. Everything else is either on the counter or in the fridge. Don’t come back to work until your fever’s completely—”

It happens in a moment: Vincent stumbles. Yves is looking at him, which means he sees the exact moment when it happens. Yves doesn’t think, just reacts—he reaches out to grab his arm to keep him from falling entirely. 

“Woah,” he says, steadying him. “Are you—”

Vincent’s hand is concerningly warm, even through the fabric of his sleeve. For a moment, he leans into Yves’s touch, though this seems less intentional as it is inevitable. He’s breathing heavily, his eyes tightly shut, his shoulders rising and falling not as soundlessly as usual.

Yves swallows past the alarm he feels percolating in his chest. Had he been about to pass out? Just how high is his fever right now? “Vincent—”

“Sorry,” Vincent manages, through gritted teeth. He makes an effort to regain his balance, to move away. He sways on his feet, and Yves feels the panic in his chest rise anew. 

He reaches up and slings an arm around his waist. “Hey,” he says, trying for reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

Vincent doesn’t say anything, to that. He just stands there, perfectly still, his eyebrows drawn together, his shoulders a little stiff under Yves’s touch. 

Without letting go of him, Yves shuts the front door gingerly behind him, toes his shoes off at the door again. “I think it would be best if you laid down,” he says. “Do you think you can walk?”

Vincent nods, slowly. Yves tracks the bob of his throat as he swallows. 

“Sorry,” Vincent says, again. “I… didn’t expect it to be an issue.”

He’s frowning, hard, as if he’s upset with himself, though Yves can’t quite piece apart why he’d have reason to be. “Hey, no apologizing,” Yves says. “Save your energy for walking.”

Vincent seems to understand that their current arrangement will not change until he’s in bed, so he lets Yves steer him towards the bedroom. It’s a short walk—down the hallway and then off to the left—but Yves spends half of it distracted by how warm Vincent is. Like this, he practically radiates heat.

It’s not until Vincent is settled on his bed, the blankets pulled loosely over him, that Yves allows himself to let go.

Truthfully, the last thing he wants to do right now is leave. But it isn’t about what he wants, and perhaps Vincent would sleep better if he did.

“Are you warm enough?” Yves asks. The words feel heavy on his tongue.

A nod. 

“Do you need me to get you anything else?”

Vincent shakes his head.

“Okay,” Yves says. “I guess I shouldn’t overstay my welcome, then.”

Vincent will be fine, he tells himself. At the end of the day, they are only coworkers, and Vincent is one of the most independent people he knows. If Vincent doesn’t want him here, the best Yves can do is comply with his wishes. He straightens. “Text me if you need anything, I mean it.”

He lets go of the blanket, rises to his feet. Only, then—

There’s a hand on his sleeve, tugging.

Yves goes very still.

When Vincent notices what he’s done, alarm flashes through his expression, and he pulls his hand away as if he’s burned. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, again. And just like that, he’s back to how he always is—his expression perfectly, carefully neutral, in a way that can only be constructed. “I’m sorry.” But Yves doesn’t forget what he’s seen. “You can go.”

Yves’s heart aches. He settles back at the edge of the bed, reaches out a hand, settles it gently at the edge of Vincent’s forehead. At the physical contact, Vincent’s breath catches.

And for a second, Yves wonders if he’s made a mistake—if maybe Vincent doesn’t want to be touched, right now. If he’s misread the situation; if Vincent wants him to go, after all. He opens his mouth to apologize.

But then Vincent shuts his eyes. The tenseness to his expression eases, almost imperceptibly, his eyebrows unfurrowing. Oh, Yves realizes. His head must hurt—Yves suspected as much—but if he’s not mistaken, the expression on Vincent’s face right now is…

Relief. Cautiously, Yves traces his fingertips lightly over the edge of Vincent’s temple, combs them slowly through his hair. Vincent’s eyes stay shut, but the furrow to his eyebrows loosens, and his jaw unclenches, just a bit. The change is minute, almost imperceptible. If Yves weren’t paying close attention, he might’ve missed it.

As if he could pay attention to anything else, right now.

Tentatively, Yves cards his fingers through Vincent’s hair, traces slow circles into his scalp, slowly, carefully.  He does it until the heartbeat he feels thrumming under his fingertips—quick and erratic—slows. Until Vincent’s breathing evens out, until the hurt in his expression dulls. Until the tension in his shoulders eases.

By the time he finally withdraws his hand, Vincent is fast asleep. Yves fetches a new glass of water for his nightstand, changes out the plastic bag lining the trash can, and lines the cough drops and medicine up at the edge of Vincent’s desk. He flips through folder 2-A, assessing.

Then he heads back out to his car to get his laptop, and gets to work.

—

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

But when he wakes at Vincent’s desk, it’s to an unpleasant ache in his neck that spreads laterally into his shoulders—probably from sleeping with his head pillowed awkwardly against his arms. He lifts his head. 

Behind him, there’s a weak, uncertain breath, and then the sort of cough that makes Yves’s chest hurt in sympathy. It sounds wrong, somehow—too quiet, for its proximity. Muffled.

It’s dark inside, aside from the faint glow of Vincent’s digital alarm clock, the pale green digits cutting into the black. He hears the rustling of blankets, followed by another short, painful intake of breath.

The sneeze that follows is stifled into something. Even stifled, it sounds uncharacteristically harsh—all force, pinched off into a short, muffled outburst which sounds barely relieving, at best.

“hH’ih’iNNGKkk-t!”

Yves blinks. Then he leans over the desk to flick on the lamp. Dull golden light suffuses the desk, bright enough to cast Vincent in form and graying color. 

“Are you okay?”

At the light, Vincent’s eyes widen. He looks—stricken, somehow. Then his expression shutters, and he frowns. “Did I—” he stops to cough again into his fist. It sounds as though each breath he’s taking in is an effort of its own, shallow and unsatisfying. When he speaks again, his voice sounds noticeably hoarser. “—Did I wake you?”

Yves opens his mouth to respond. Before he can think up a convincing excuse, Vincent shakes his head dejectedly, as if he already knows the answer.

“Sorry,” he says. “I was - cough, cough - tryidg to be quiet.”

Quiet. As to not wake Yves, presumably. The revelation causes an ache to settle somewhere deep inside of him, heavy and inexorable. Yves is more than certain that this flu is already miserable enough on its own, even without the added challenge of having to be quiet about it. He wants to say, do you really think that’s what matters to me? He wants to ask, how long have you been up dealing with this on your own?

“You don’t have to be quiet,” is all he manages, instead.  It’s a miracle that his voice manages to come out as evenly as it does.

Vincent looks like he’s about to say something. But before he has a chance to, he twists away to cough harshly into his shoulder. Now that he doesn’t make an attempt to muffle the coughing fit, Yves can hear just how harsh it sounds. 

It’s the kind of coughing fit that just sounds exhausting—forceful enough to leave tears brimming at the edges of his eyelashes, his breaths coming in shallowly. 

“Can I get you anything?” Yves asks, when Vincent is done coughing.

Vincent just looks back at him, unmoving. In the dim light of the desk lamp, he looks perhaps more exhausted than Yves has ever seen him—really, he looks as though he hasn’t slept at all. He’s seated with his back against the headboard with a blanket pulled around his shoulders. One of his hands is clenched loosely around it, pinning the corners in place. 

“Tea?” Yves offers, because it’s better than saying nothing. “Water, cough drops. A cold compress?” Vincent doesn’t say anything, but Yves thinks, a little helplessly, that there must be something he can do. “Extra blankets? Tissues? Ibuprofen?”

“Water… would be nice,” Vincent says, as if it takes a lot out of him to admit it. Yves blinks, surprised—he had half expected no answer at all. At Yves’s split second of hesitation, Vincent’s frown deepens, his grip around the blankets tightening slightly. “...If it’s not too much trouble.”

Yves has never gotten out of his seat faster. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” he swipes the empty glass from the nightstand and heads out into the hallway.

It’s dark. There aren’t many windows in the hallway to let in light from outside, but once he gets to the dining room, it gets easier to see. Judging by how dark it is outside, there are probably a few hours left until sunrise. It’s still early, then. Early enough that it’s quiet, around them—no traffic out on the streets, save for the occasional car, headed to who-knows-where; no neighbors going about their early morning routines; just the steady trickle of rain on the windowsill. Yves rinses the cup out in the sink, shakes it dry, and fills it again.

When he makes it back to the bedroom, it’s unusually quiet. Vincent is still sitting at the edge of his bed, looking like he hasn’t moved at all since Yves left the room.

Yves crosses the room to hand him the glass. Vincent blinks up at him, a little blearily.

“I got you water,” Yves says, unnecessarily.

Vincent takes the glass from him with both hands, as if he doesn’t quite trust himself to hold it with just one. Yves looks away as he drinks.  

When Vincent lowers the glass at last, Yves takes it from him and sets it back into place onto the bedside table. He straightens, turns to face Vincent again. “Any better now?”

Vincent nods. It’s quiet, for a moment. Outside, the rain has nearly stopped—the room is soundless, aside from the thin whirring of the air conditioning. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.” 

Yves hums. “To be honest, I didn’t either.” He stifles a yawn into one hand—he’s still a little tired. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You must be tired,” Vincent frowns, looking him over. “You came right from a full day of work to check on me. Does your neck hurt?” 

“What?”

Vincent inclines his head towards his desk. “I’ve fallen asleep there before. It’s not very comfortable.”

Yves thinks he shouldn’t be surprised, at this point, that Vincent has picked up on something so subtle. “It’s not that bad,” he says, reaching up with a hand to massage his neck. “My neck would probably be sorer if I’d slept through the whole night. I should thank you for waking me.”

“You could’ve taken the couch instead,” Vincent says, a little disapprovingly. “It would probably have been wiser.”

“I wanted to be here so I could keep an eye on you,” Yves says, because it’s true. “Besides, you sat in a chair while I slept in France. That can’t have been comfortable either.”

“It’s not just about that. You—” Vincent raises a hand up to his face, ducks into his wrist for a sudden: “hh-! hhiH’GKT-sSHuh! snf-!” He sniffles, then presses the wrist closer to his face, his expression shuttering. “Hh…  hh’IIDDZshH’Uhh-!” 

“Bless you!” Yves says, startled.

Vincent blinks, a little teary-eyed, turning over his shoulder to muffle a few harsh coughs into his wrist. “You shouldn’t have slept so close to me. I really don’t want you to catch this.”

He’s frowning, as if it really is a big deal. As if even now, even shivering and feverish, it’s somehow Yves that he’s more worried about right now.

Yves isn’t particularly concerned about that—he has no shortage of  sick time to take off of work, in any case. If he does manage to catch this from Vincent, he’ll just stock up on essentials before the worst of it hits. It would be nothing he hasn’t done before. Still, Vincent looks so—well, so tornby the mere possibility of it that Yves wants to say something to comfort him.

“How about this?” he says. “If you’re so worried about it, you can buy me cough drops next time I come down with something, deal? Then we’ll be even.”

Vincent’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s a terrible deal for you.”

“I’ll get sick at some point in my life, anyways,” Yves says, with a shrug. “If this means I get free cough drops out of it, I’d say it’s a win.”

He moves the desk chair over so he can sit down at the edge of Vincent’s bed. Vincent watches him, uncertain. He looks like he’s resisting the urge to say something—to tell Yves to move further away, probably.

“Relax,” Yves says, reflexively. “It’ll be fine, seriously. I know what I signed up for.” 

He leans forward, presses the back of his hand against Vincent’s forehead. Vincent closes his eyes. A slight tremor passes through his shoulders at the contact, but aside from that, he stays perfectly still.

“Your fever’s worse than before,” Yves says, withdrawing his hand.

“It’s not.” Vincent’s eyes are still shut. “The temperature is just higher because it’s night time.”

The suggestion is so far from comforting that Yves almost laughs. “You know,” he says, “that’s not very reassuring.” The blanket around Vincent’s shoulders starts to slip, so Yves reaches over and snags an edge of it, fluffs the whole thing outwards to lay it neatly around Vincent’s shoulders, like a cloak. Secures it with a loose knot. “Are you feeling any better than before?”

Vincent does open his eyes, now. He looks as though he’s trying hard to figure out how acceptably he can lie. “I…”

“You can be honest.”

Vincent’s jaw clenches. He reaches up with one hand, his fingers curling around the blanket Yves set down around him.

“My head feels heavy,” he says. He screws his eyes shut, his eyebrows furrowing. “And my chest hurts.” He lets out a short, frustrated breath, as if every sentence is a new and difficult admission. “I’m… not used to getting sick like this.”

Yves’s hands still. “Like what?”

“In any way that would necessitate taking time off from work,” Vincent says, looking away. The discomfort sits, plainly and indisputably, in the way he holds himself—his shoulders stiff, his jaw clenched—everything a little too tense, despite his exhaustion.

Yves stares at him for a moment, considering. In the end, it’s the small, impulsive thought that wins out.

He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, next to Vincent. The mattress dips under his weight. 

Vincent has always been taller than him, but sitting down like this, they nearly see eye to eye. It’s a risk, of course, to offer this. He and Vincent haven’t been physically intimate outside of the times where they’ve had to prove their relationship to an audience. But when he thinks back to how Vincent reacted to Yves feeling his forehead, or Yves carding his hands through his hair—if he hasn’t misread, it almost feels like—

Yves opens his arms out in offering, tries on a smile. “I’ve been told I give good hugs. Good enough to cure all ailments, obviously.”

For a moment, Vincent stays perfectly still. Yves has five seconds to overthink all of his actions over the past twenty four hours. 

Then Vincent inches closer, ever so slightly, to lean his head on Yves’s shoulder.

Yves curls his arms around him. There’s the slightest hitch in Vincent’s breath, at the contact. Then the stiffness seeps out of his shoulders, and he presses a little closer—as if he’s allowed himself permission, at last, to let go.

His whole body is concerningly warm. “You’re burning up,” Yves says, softly. He reaches up with one hand to run his fingers through Vincent’s hair.

“...I figured,” Vincent says. The next breath he takes comes in a little shakily. “Whoever gave you the review was right. You are a good hugger.”

Yves laughs, a little surprised. “Careful. You’re going to inflate my ego if you keep talking.”

“I can’t help it if it’s true.”

Yves has hugged a fair share of people in his life. He doesn’t think he’d be able to list them all if he were asked to. It’s different, though, being so close to Vincent—so close that Yves can reach out and let his hair fall through his fingertips. He can lift up his palm and feel the rigid line of his spine, the slope of his shoulders; he could reach out and trace the dip of his wrist, the form of his hand. Vincent’s chin digs slightly into his left shoulder. His nose is turned slightly into Yves’s neck—like this, he is almost perfectly still. Yves can feel the warm brush of air against his neck whenever Vincent exhales. He is so close that Yves is afraid, for a moment, that he might hear how badly his heart is racing.

Would dating Vincent be like this? Would this kind of exchange be given and received as easily as anything? Yves wills himself not to think about it. This is nothing, he tells himself, but a simple offering of comfort between friends. To think otherwise would be disingenuous.

They stay like that for some time. Time slows, or perhaps it expands or collapses—really, Yves would be none the wiser. The whir of the ceiling fan and the light rain on the rooftop a constant. When Vincent pulls away at last, it’s to turn sharply off to the side to muffle a sneeze into his sleeve.

“Hh-! hhIH’IIDZsSHM-FF! snf-!” 

“Bless you,” Yves says, blinking. The sudden absence of warmth is a little jarring. But Vincent isn’t done.

His eyebrows draw together, and he ducks tighter into his elbow, his shoulders jerking forward. “hHIH’iiGKKTsSHH—! Sorry, I— Ihh-! hHHh’DZZSSCHh—uH-!”

“Bless you again,” Yves says, reaching past him to hand over the box of tissues on the nightstand. He holds out the box for Vincent to take.

Vincent turns away to blow his nose. When he returns, he’s a little teary eyed. The flush on the bridge of his nose hasn’t gone away.

“When I asked you to come over,” he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to stay.”

Yves blinks. “Is it so strange for me to be here?”

To that, Vincent is quiet, for a moment. Yves looks out the window, where he can see the skyline, off in the distance, the dark form of the apartment building across the streets, the street in between lit dimly with golden streetlights.

“A little,” he says. “When I was young, if I got sick, it wasn’t really a big deal.”

At Yves’s expression, he amends: “That’s not to say that my family didn’t care, because they did. No one spent too long in my room—better to not risk catching it, if they could help it—but back then, if I didn’t have much stomach room, my mom always cut fruits for me to leave on my desk. Sometimes she made ginseng tea, too.” he shuts his eyes. There’s a strange expression on his face—something a little more complicated than wistfulness.

“We had a habit of keeping the heat off, in the winters, and closing the windows. But if I was running a fever, my brother always made sure to keep the heat on.” His lip twitches, almost imperceptibly. Then: the smallest of smiles. “Sometimes he’d stay outside my door to talk about his day. He was the class lead, back when he was in high school. It was always something inconsequential, like which of his classmates he liked and which ones he held a grudge against, and why. Almost always for the smallest reasons, like someone borrowing a pencil and forgetting to give it back, or someone tossing the ball to him in gym class.”

“Were you and your brother close?” Yves asks.

“Close is relative,” Vincent says. “I never really knew how to—inhabit his world, I guess. When I moved to the states, and when I decided to stay here, part of it was out of some sort of defiance. I didn’t want to have to follow in his footsteps, because then I could only ever be focused on doing things differently.”

He shuts his eyes. “But I felt close to him, then. When he stood outside my room and told me those stories. Even if they were things I wouldn’t have cared about had they happened to me, I guess. It’s strange how that works.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Yves says. He’s always had a good relationship with Leon and Victoire, though that doesn’t mean they’ve always seen eye to eye on things. “Sometimes it’s less about what they say, and more about the fact that they’re saying it.”

Vincent nods. “They all cared about me in their own way,” he says, at last. “I don’t think I appreciated the extent of it at the time. When you’re a kid, you tend to take everything at face value.”

“Do you regret it?” Yves asks. “What?”

“Not appreciating them more, back then.”

Vincent smiles. “I was just a kid. I suppose it’s natural that I didn’t know better.” Yves has a feeling that that statement is perhaps further reaching than Vincent is making it out to be. “I didn’t think much about it at the time.”

“Do you ever miss being part of a large household?”

“It’s peaceful on my own,” Vincent says, at last. “I usually don’t mind it. I usually have other things to worry about.”

He hasn’t asked if the information is useful to Yves, Yves realizes, a little belatedly. Back then, at Joel and Cherie’s potluck, Vincent had seemed to believe that the only way Yves could possibly be interested in him was if the information could serve their fake relationship, somehow.

The realization settles him. Perhaps Vincent has shared this because he knows Yves cares.

“Your apartment is nice,” Yves says, trying to ignore the insistent beat of his heart in his chest, which all of a sudden seems to want to make itself known. “I can see why you would like living here.”

Vincent tilts his head up towards the ceiling. “It’s not the same, of course. As home. Though that’s a given.” Yves notes the usage of the word: home. Here, instead of home, the clarifier salient, even though Vincent’s done nothing to emphasize it. Could it be that after all these years, Vincent still considers Korea to be home, for him? “When I’ve had people over, it was just for dinner. Not for…”

He looks over to Yves, now. Yves knows what he means, knows how to fill in the rest of the sentence: not for the reason you’re here, now.

“I know I’ve intruded a little,” Yves says, with a laugh.

Vincent frowns at him, his eyebrows furrowing. “I wouldn’t consider it an intrusion,” he says. “You’ve helped me a lot. I just—I’m a little embarrassed that your first time over had to be under these circumstances.”

Your first time over. Yves ignores—well, tries to ignore—the implication that this could be the first out of many. That he might have another opportunity, in the future, to swing by. Vincent hasn’t confirmed anything, and it’s not likely that their fake dating arrangement would warrant another house visit, out of the public’s eye. Yves tells himself that the warmth he feels in his chest is misplaced.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I like seeing you,” Yves says.

Vincent raises an eyebrow at him. “Even bedridden with a fever?”

Isn’t it obvious? “Of course.”

“I’ve been terrible company,” Vincent says. “And even worse of a host. I recall I fell asleep yesterday, only for you to spend two hours cleaning my apartment?”

“Vacuuming is therapeutic.”

“You said that about cooking, too,” Vincent says, narrowing his eyes. “Am I supposed to believe that you enjoy doing all household chores?”

“It’s not like you made me do them. I just wanted to be useful, and your vacuum was easy to find.”

“I’ll be sure to hide it thoroughly next time,” Vincent says, deadpan.

Yves laughs. “It’s like I said,” he says. “I like spending time with you. Even—” To steal Vincent’s words from earlier. “—bedridden with a fever.”

Vincent huffs a sigh, a little incredulously. 

“Though, I promise I won’t intrude for much longer,” Yves tells him. “I’ll probably head out in the morning.” He’s almost done with the work Vincent has on his desk—he’d fallen asleep checking over one of the income statements for discrepancies. A few hours should be enough time to make sure that everything is in order. He still has work at eight—he’ll probably be a little tired for it, considering how late he’d slept, but that’s nothing new.

“I’m sorry,” Vincent says, averting his glance. He frowns down at himself, as if he really is apologetic. “You must’ve had other evening plans.”

None as important as taking care of you, Yves catches himself thinking. He can’t say things like that if he wants to keep this—well, this unfortunate recent development, i.e., his feelings for Vincent—to himself.

“It wasn’t just for you,” he says, instead.

“What?”

“I didn’t just do it for you.”

Vincent blinks at him, a little confused. “Are you going to say you get personal gratification out of seeing my apartment clean?”

“It’s like you said,” he says. “I’ve never seen you this unwell. You said this doesn’t happen often, right? When you didn’t show up at work, I…” The next admission feels a little too honest—but there’s a small, unwise part of him that wants to get it across, regardless. “I was really worried. Even though you said you had everything covered, I wanted to make sure you were fine.”

Vincent nods. “I get it. It would be an inconvenience if I were unfit to be your fake—”

“It has nothing to do with that,” Yves interrupts him. His heart hurts a little, with it. “I wanted to see that you were fine because I care about you. To be honest, I think I would’ve spent the entire night worrying if I hadn’t come.” He laughs, a little self-deprecatingly. “It’s a little selfish, I know.”

Vincent’s eyes are very wide.

“Anyways,” Yves says, with the sinking feeling that he’s said too much, “you should try to get some more sleep.” He rearranges the blankets around Vincent, a little unnecessarily, fluffs the extra pillow that’s leaned up against the headboard, and turns away. “It’s still really early. If you’re planning to be back in office next week, it would be best to keep your sleep schedule intact.”

“Yves,” Vincent says, from behind him.

“Hmm?”

“...Thank you.” 

When Yves works up the courage to look over, Vincent is smiling, unreservedly, as if something Yves has said has made him very happy.

Yves’s heart stutters in his chest. Fuck.

(On second thought, it might not be so easy to live with these feelings, after all.)

—

At daybreak, Yves drives home to get changed, takes a quick shower while he’s at it, and heads off for work. He yawns through half his morning meetings, adds an extra espresso shot to the coffee he snags from the break room.

The text arrives halfway through the day, just before he’s intending to head downstairs for lunch.

V: When I asked you to bring folder 2-A, I didn’t mean for you to complete my work along with it.

Yves smiles. He’d emailed Vincent the completed work from yesterday’s late-night work session before he’d left. Vincent must’ve seen it.

Y: some genie i met told me your wish was to have your work done before the deadline

V: What are you talking about?

Y: he also told me you were very stubborn about not redistributing your assignments to anyone else  Y: so you can’t blame me for taking matters into my own hands

V: Yves.

Y: feel free to check it over for errors :)

[ganondoodle]

some destiny (zelda comic) lore

i really have absolutely no problem with AUs, but in the case of my zelda comic i kinda dont like it being called that bc i made it specifically around the idea of offering an origin story to .. everything really that could be true and put the entire series in an entirely different light

like most things in the series around the creation of the world and the godesses etc are told to us, and i always ask questions when sth is just told to you especially in this black and white kind of way

idk if i ever talked about it, probably not bc its somewhat of a big reveal in the comic (though its at the very end) and given how slow i am thats years away so:

the three gods (gods as a neutral term here) exists outside the physical realm in a sort of void like darkness with an endless completely calm ocean they created the world we know as hyrules world, in fact they created two more, each of them filled with life, at some point choosing a mortal to kill and make into a deity as their right hand since the gods cant go into these worlds themselves

they want to enact the plan we see in skyward sword, they want a monster to invade the land, their chosen deity to seal it, die and be reincarnated and start the whole zelda cycle as we know it; why?maybe purely as entertainment, which is why each cycle is so widely different, they are gods and treating life and worlds like their little toys feels kinda right- and they really dont like when their toys act against them, thats not what toys are supposed to do after all

so, courage as i like to call them, was a deity they created using a mortal, but they failed to even make their mortals believe in them, instead they were seen as the monster, the gods lost their patience and drowned their world leaving only courage to survive, while they failed their orders and were hated, they still cared about their world, seeing it slowly drown and abandoned by the gods made them filled with despair, in an outburst they destroy the spring of the gods (an ancient spring that is the first to exist in a world when its created) and it opens up a gate into the realm of the gods, that dark calm ocean of nothing- they go into it and wander into the closest source of light and it brings them into demise's world

demise is the deity of his world, and when courage arrives there they start to attack it, filled with desperation and rage that their world was drowned while this one thrived- demise hasnt failed the gods yet, and he fights and seals away courage with easy, but it lets him doubt the gods words, courage was supposed to be some evil monster, yet they were similar to him and he defeated them so easily, why would he chose to die and be reincarnated as a mortal? he wanted to stay a deity and protect his world forever- he started to stall for time, halting the building of the temples for the hero in the future, and at some point courage broke out of its seal, nothing of it was like before it was a strange and now truly, a monster, and demise killed it to protect his lands, thus making the gods prophecy unable to be furfilled and so the gods abandon his world too, they let mortals turn against him as his world slowly dries out, until there is nothing left alive but him and ghirahim, trying to drive him to madness so he becomes the monster for the the next world in the row, but fail just barely- he too destroys the ancient spring and discovers the gate it creates

so demise travels to hylias world, and hylia, hesitates to seal him right away bc she notices he is not a mindless monster like she was told, despite the gods effort to raise her in isolation and make her into the perfect vassal, hylias curiousity is too much, so she lets demise live, over and over as they battle- which is the story of the comic, at the end they fall in love and uncover the gods plans, that demise was in the same position as hylia is, and he killed a deity jsut like them, that the reincarnation thing might be a lie to get rid of the biggest threat to the gods (the deities needed to be gotten rid of before they realized anything) and replace it with a more controllable mortal once the set up for the play was done, this too has been a cycle in the end the gods make sure this time it ends up how they want, more or less (im leaving out the details for now) and demise gets sealed and hylia dies, both of them taken by the gods but as both resisted them it is not perfect, demise still did not turn into the monster they needed so what you fight in skyward sword is an apparition of him, not him truly, and ghirahim knew he would never be himself again but his desperation and devotion made him try anyway only to end up playing right into the gods hands

and that is how the series started, a scheme of the gods to create their little play, inventing new little adversaries and eviil beings but short lived so easily to reinvent over and over, but its all based on lies, zelda isnt special, she was jsut a mortal that happened to be chosen by the gods to take the role she has now, shes no reincarnation of hylia, none of the things they tell you about hylia are true, its the gods lying to you, and the trio is stuck in this cycle not realizing they are merely being played with

(being sealed or dying as a deity send you to the realms of the gods, where they pin them down on a pillar like bugs (unconcious) and occasional borrow their magic for some tricks and schemes to play with in the world of hyrule, the deities are still there, and will be until the gods decide to kill them fully- and at the end of destiny as demise is take by them, in the last few moments before he is hung up like a trophy he not only sees that courage, who he thought he had fully killed, was already there, but in the darkness were countless remains of abandoned deities hanging dead on pillars, how many times have the gods done this before?)

(possibly not as interesting as i hope it is, but this is what im going for, and it only really works if the rest of the series exists just the same, otherwise the whole point of putting everything in this context would become kinda meaningless? at least thats how i feel about it so i dont like calling it an AU, but im not mad about it bc i guess if you take all the lore at face value it is completely different and doesnt work with canon at all? idk )

[bidisaster-peanut-romano]

soo hi everyone!! i'm back on my bully essay/meta/something writing!! sort of. i did this.

anyways anyone who's been on this page for some time know how from time to time i have insistently mentioned the parallels between lola and peanut, right?

welp! that was a joke but the time has finally come!! a super-pretentious essay just for the fun of it!! (and also bc i haven't been writing actually argumentative texts in like months perhaps a year, so. yikes, i really need to practice again)

word count: 2.2k WOAH. IM SORRY

i, in my corner, with my monstrous needs. — susan sontag, as consciousness is harnessed to flesh

take this quote both as a title and an anticipation of what is to come. the essay will be distributed analyzing first the dependence of each of them on johnny, to then draw comparisons. i'll make sure to steer as away from headcanons as possible, sticking closely to the source text. obviously, some things' interpretation might be ambiguous, but, you know. your usual occupation hazard.

also, a disclaimer before we start: while they are psychologically complex and there is always a mimetic intention in developing them, these are fictional characters, and, as such, their primary function is to be vessels for different themes, questions and so forth. therefore, i will prioritize meaning and themes over moral implications and similar elements.

i. peanut

for how much i can adore talking about him, the way peanut depends on johnny is very much on the nose; worn on his sleeve, even. in 11:11 minutes of voice lines, he mentions johnny 30 times.

many interpret this as the caricature of a boy crush, but i have reasons to believe it is much less cute than that.

the problem is that, really, more than trying to identify specific situations... peanut seems to rely on johnny for a significant part of what he does. when he does good at dodgeball:

Look at me, Johnny, look at me!

almost like a child calling for his parent's attention to be praised. he calls johnny's name when he's going through hardships, when he's scared or when he's sad.

more than someone he just loves, johnny is a point of reference. whenever there's something going on, whenever he does or has to do something, his first thought goes to johnny; vice versa, what johnny asks of him is his priority.

I gotta tell Johnny! No time. I gotta see Johnny now. Gotta help Johnny. What can I do next to please Johnny? I mean Lola! I mean…

(this also goes in a "negative" direction, envy being the other side of the medal to adoration. especially because, in some way, this reliance on johnny might be felt by him as emasculating, and, being johnny his model of masculinity, adding it to the napoleon complex thing, it's not hard to guess why it can be so unpleasant. we can see this manifest through some of the things he expresses in regards to lola- not as much an interest he has towards her, but the interest he wishes to have from her- which are a bit more different than it might seem at a first glance. but this is a mouseketool we'll need later. still:

Last time I saw her, Lola made eyes at me, not Johnny!

do we really need this part? heh. i'm not sure, but it's always good to point out)

(also, just because, for the purpose of this analysis, it might be useful to specify: while these sentiments are very much implied in peanut's canon quotes, we have no evidence in canon in what measure they are reciprocated by johnny. the fandom has universally agreed that johnny also views peanut as his Best Friend In The World; while in some measure, they must be at least a bit close, i think it is even safe to say, given the caricaturist nature of bully's characterizations, that johnny holds peanut in less consideration that peanut deludes himself into believing. quoting another post of mine, the kids who show some level of obsession towards their leader mention him on average ten or less times (gord mentions derby eight times, parker six times, kirby mentions ted five times). the leaders don't usually make names at all, that much is true; however, peanut mentions johnny 30 times, and, even in front of this proportion, johnny mentions peanut 0 times. just to make that clear)

overall, what undeniably shines through his voice lines is a feeling of general inadequacy, whether about his height, or his strength in front of a bigger adversary. the audios in which he tries to show off range from being disingenuous, to straight up improbable.

crossing what we have until now said, it is not hard to come to the conclusion that he really tries to make up, to fill this empty feeling of inadequacy by taking pride in his role as johnny's second in command.

while i am a big fan of bully's characteristic of having left much content out of the main game, leaving the gamers to dig it up for themselves, i do believe that scrapping some of the stuff that was prepared for peanut is a loss. we have a number of voice lines coming from chapter 3, in which it was heavily implied how important peanut's role as johnny's right hand man was.

for example, much like... all other seconds in command, really, he was to be followed and then fought in the rumble, before you could get to johnny, with the specific duty to cover his back. even his very first scene, the opening cutscene of chapter 3, i believe, is not to be underestimated. most of the other people, as far as i recall, call you when they need it in person; johnny, however, sends peanut. making him, de facto, an extension of himself, almost.

again, you choose the motivation. what is important, from a narrative point of view, is that peanut clings to johnny through these acts of service, almost making it the foundation of his personhood.

basically, he makes it so that, if he can't be of help to johnny, his whole self is fundamentally annihilated, giving himself completely to johnny.

ii. lola

with lola, reading between the lines gets a bit more difficult; first of all, because lola is much less transparent than peanut, her insincerity being a supporting beam of the whole chapter 3. secondly, whether she was done dirty by the creators or not, it is undoubted that being the perspective that of a teenage boy (namely, jimmy, but we certainly, as viewers, are brought to sympathize more with johnny than with lola) with all the prejudices it can bring with itself.

however, it doesn't mean that there isn't anything to work with- quite the contrary, actually. the issue with lola is that there is a certain amount of layers to get through before gaining a satisfying perception of her as a character. still, we're here to try our best, aren't we!

even behind the muddiness of her intentions and the manipulation she shows herself a master at, it is clear from the second we first meet her that what she does is in function of johnny.

to get through this mess with order, we'll start from an easy, measurable numeric information: lola mentions johnny in her audio files 19 times. which, we're assessed, IS a considerable amount.

we have extensively talked about the way her cheating patterns are a strategy not to succumb to the passive role of the girl in the heteronormative, patriarchal prototypical couple (there's a post here breaking down a lot of this stuff, if any of you is interested!!), so, instead of this, i want to focus on what lies beneath that behavior.

ultimately, the whole point is that lola expects and wants johnny to fight for her. whether is it because she feels taken for granted, or just because he can't perceive it if not through grandiose gestures like the rumble- your interpretation will work; she wants to see johnny fighting nail and teeth not to lose her, she wants him to show her that he wants her.

she's all about that attention, and she knows exactly what and how to do to get it. and i think this is especially clear when you compare the moments in which she knows there's no advantage she could go for; when she has understood that jimmy won't fall for her manipulation, when algie and chad leave her unsatisfied, when norton openly accuses her and antagonizes her - she loses her temper, lets go of that sweetened and/or flirtatious voice tone, abandons that specific kind of gesturing. she doesn't care anymore about obtaining something. she was actually angry, and she was actually upset that johnny had disappeared.

in some of her audios, she references johnny with some amount of fondness, as well:

Johnny and I were on the best date ever.

(there is also a voice line in which she says "He told me he likes me because of my personality. Isn't that sweet?"; due to it being a general chatter and not exclusive to one chapter, i assume it is relatively safe to assume she is quoting johnny. however, as i said at the beginning, we're trying to stay as close to canon material as possible, so, do your thing- and i'm open to arguments!!)

a considerable amount of audio files, however (which will lead us to our final point) is about her... calling for help for johnny, or stating, confidently, that he will come save her, or avenge her later.

Someone get Johnny! Johnny's gonna get you for this. Johnny is gonna kill you!

but wait... i have some sense of déjà vu...

You're gonna be sorry when Johnny finds out!

iii. two faces of the same medal

if i had to pick an effective image for a metaphor, i'd say that the thing about lola and peanut is that they are both dogs looking for someone to take their leash; we’re talking here about an exclusive relationship with someone they can rely totally on, someone we’ll call the Other (with a capital o, distinguished from just other. yes it is unnecessarily complicated i’m sorry).

for what my professor would call accidents of history, it happened that both of them found that Other in johnny.

each of them attempts at creating an exclusive relationship with the Other, one foolproof and fundamentally… perfect. perfect in the way that everything works like oiled gears, in the way that every next move is predictable, in the way that any accident will not break the created equilibrium. (even if, in the general sense of the term, lola and johnny's relationship is everything but perfect, it is in the connotation that we have established here. lola is aware that, no matter what she does, johnny will come back around. hell, the very thing that she does is aimed at keeping that balance; specifically, keeping him a bit on the edge, pushing him into a corner where he has to actively make an effort to keep her close.)

they both hide something they are ashamed of, regulating not only their actions and reactions but their very way of existing in the world, in order to keep that gear working, in order to remain in johnny's hand. lola hides that craving for a genuine and stable affection, dissimulating it with the cheating and the fatuous physical demonstrations of closeness; peanut hides his sense of inadequacy and complex of inferiority, by being the tough and reliable second in command.

basically, what they mean to achieve is a sense of security, the safety of not really being the one to lead but, at the same time, finding a purpose, other than a shield from the outside world that they are not willing to concede themselves to. like a... symbiotic relationship?? i was going to say parasitic, but, yknow. the Other does get some advantages, which are, respectively, peanut's acts of service and lola's capacity to boost johnny's pride.

now, of course, johnny is not aware of either of their play. which makes it even better, since, as we already said, both of their approach to the relationship needs some degree of insincerity.

like, i don't deny that johnny might be a good friend, or a loyal one. but he is an oblivious, prideful fuck who can't see past his own nose; he's got a tendency to make it all about himself - which of course goes perfectly with what we said about both peanut and lola making the Other their center, taking up, in a certain way, a passive role in the relationship.

this way, both of them aim at creating with johnny a relationship that is, in a way, codependant and conditional, in which the do ut des (their respective "service" ↔ johnny's guarantee of stability) creates the foundation of the very relationship.

this, of course, brings up the problem of exclusivity; on which, however, i prefer not to delve into too much, as this would bring us to the topic of their antagonism which... isn't really what i wanted to go for, at least not here. (it would risk bringing us a bit too close to my subjective interpretation and too far away from the canon, which i PROMISED i wouldn't do. however, someday i might elaborate on that??? idk , please do lmk if someone's interested around here)

i will, however, show you a diagram (it looks like a triangle- i guess it is, but it is VERY important that it is a pyramid, with a top and a larger foundation) and a quote, to wrap this up bc i think it is already WAY too long and ramble-y lmao. let me know what you think anyway, my ask box is always open <3

it almost feels like a joke to play out a part when you are not the starring role in someone else's heart you know i'd rather walk alone (i'd rather walk alone) than play a supporting role if i can't get the starring role -- starring role, marina and the diamonds

[necrotic-nephilim]

Sorry if this might be a rude question but why don’t you just make a seperate account for your nsfw fics?

not rude, it's a valid question! tbh it's a combination of a couple reasons.

i started posting anonymous dead dove batcest fics long before i had the balls to make a tumblr. at first i was content to just leave them unassociated with each other because i didn't really care about them being tied to me. i made this blog to actually show solidarity to my partner who wanted to make a sideblog for Sandman comic stuff so we could cheerlead each other and be brave together, since i've wanted to make a batcest sideblog but i've been nervous about actually having to get it going. (mal ik you're reading this go be brave and actually make your blog so i can cheerlead you damnit-) only did it dawn on me then that i should probably mention the fics i've written on the blog after like, three of them were posted anonymously. and it would've annoyed me to have half of them anonymous and half of them not, because notifications for them would've gone in different places. i could go back and take my fics off anon if i wanted to, but i can't switch the account they're on without taking them down entirely and that'd fuck over people who have them bookmarked already.

which, ties into my second reason, if i made an entire second ao3 account it'd be harder for me to see notifications, reply to stuff, and post things for both accounts because i'd have to constantly switch. and honestly i'd be terrified of accidentally posting on the wrong one on a brain fog day. posting fics is always the most tedious part of writing them for me lol. it's easier for me to stay logged into one account and have all of my stuff in one place for me and just use the anonymous collection when i feel like it. if ao3 pseuds worked like tumblr blogs, where you can't see all my side blogs but i can, i would've used pseuds, but since you can see all pseuds on an ao3, i felt it was a moot point.

and the last reason is i just feel more comfortable being anonymous on ao3 because of the rise in anti culture. on tumblr it's very easy for me to just filter that out and find the people i want to follow and block the people i don't. i don't mind getting hate, on tumblr or on ao3. but i think, for whatever reason you want to blame it on, there's been a massive boom of antis on ao3 who are very entitled about how they read on ao3. i tag extensively, but i just feel safer from getting targeted attacks if everything i write on ao3 isn't attached to one profile. if people like a fic i wrote, want to find more i always link my tumblr in the notes, but if an anti wants to get huffy with me, they can't easily track down my other things. they definitely could if they wanted to, but being anonymous on ao3 just makes me feel more secluded, in a weird way. it's like saying "if you want you can come find me but on here i'm just a weird faceless guy throwing stuff in the void". i've used ao3's anon feature a lot, actually, i used to be a hydra trash party dumpster kid back when that was in it's prime.

i also used to be vaguely popular on a different tumblr blog and my main ao3 and while i think it'd definitely be cool if i got a decent chunk of followers on this blog too, i don't really miss having fanfiction do so well i got targetted hate on all of my fics from the same people, i had my fics stolen, etc. it was really exhausting for me. i have 120+ works on ao3, not counting what's anonymous, and that level of exposure tires me, even when i use my main ao3 to post things that aren't trashy. it's just a weird feeling knowing so many people are subscribed to you on ao3 and what if you post something they won't like because you jumped fandoms again, or you're posting something niche, or you don't think it fills enough fandom tropes to be well-liked. i used to obsessively think like that, and it made me not write the things i wanted to because i cared about numbers. and i don't want to slide back into that hole. writing on anonymous is mostly to remind myself i wrote this for me, and if other people like it, they can come find me, but i don't have to perform like that anymore. if i get a really weird fucked up idea, i can write the really weird fucked up idea. at the end of the day, just makes me more comfortable! but i get it's a super confusing set up from an outsider perspective so, i really don't mind the question, thank you for asking!!

[telekitnetic-art]

Have you seen the formline art in splatoon? It's present in a variety of salmon run decals and on some of the locker graffiti. Idk if the Devs just googled "salmon art" and got indigenous art and decided to copy it or what. Not sure how I feel about it personally.

Long post incoming, gonna put a break here. Also sorry for the late response, I wanted to take a couple days to formalize my thoughts together before responding fully.

I have, I remember noticing in 2018-2019 (when i first started playing splatoon 2) how much one of the decals/graffiti located on the ruins of ark polaris back in 2 sort of resembled a formline bear and salmon. (near the logo in this screenshot, I couldn't find a clear picture online)

Back in 2019, it was pretty easy to think of it as coincidence or a stretch for a comparison. But with splatoon 3's salmon run decals, the resemblance is far easier to see, specifically with the TS-ORBRS graffiti and the TS-SCHL graffiti.

(also this was the best image size I could find for the graffiti images, sorry)

A couple of the banners have the designs on them as well:

The website Sealaska Heritage has info such as textbooks and an online doc about formline art (specifically geared towards Haida, Tlingit, and Tsimshian nations' style) with lots of info about formline art, and the Seattle Art Museum website has an info sheet (with credits listed as being from the Sealaska Heritage site as well) breaking down some of the basic shapes of formline art.

with this chart, you can definitely begin to notice the similarities between the Salmon Run graffiti and formline art. the ovoids, crescents, and u-shapes appear noticeably in some of the graffiti such as ORBRS and SCHL.

For perspective, here are some formline pieces featuring salmon or fish from various Indigenous artists from various nations.

"sk’ug sdang" (Two Dog Salmon) by Robert Davidson (Haida)

"metal medallion", by Crystal Kaakeeyáa Rose Demientieff Worl (Tlingit Athabascan)

"Salmon People" by Alano Edzerza (Tahltan)

"Jumping Chum" by Stephanie Anderson (Wet'suwet'en)

"Salmon" by Art Thompson (Nuu-chah-nulth)

And that's literally just the surface of dozens of Indigenous artists from the PNW.

With these pieces, you can begin to see the resemblance that the graffiti designs have. A lot of the heads follow the pattern of utilizing ovoids for both the head and eyes, and u-shapes for the bodies and crescents to fill in specific areas are also common. For example, TS-SCHL has a small school of fish where the bodies are entire ovoids.

However, there are a couple flaws in the graffiti designs too. With a few of the designs, you can see they utilize the u-shape (see the formline shape breakdown from Sealaska again) in designs like TS-WHP and TS-SMFR. I can't speak for every Indigenous formline artist ever, but from how I've been taught to design formline art from my family, the u-shape should connect to the rest of the form instead of free-floating. I drew a quick example here:

you can see similar mistakes with a different kind of u-shape with TS-RLPL and TS-C0HK.

Another very specific mistake that takes a bit of squinting to make out is that ovoids are sort of top-heavy, for lack of a term I can't think of right now. The line or the area should be thicker on the top then the bottom. This mistake is frequent in the graffiti designs utilizing ovoid or ovoid adjacent face or body shapes, like TS-ORBRS, TS-C0HK or TS-SCHL.

Full disclaimer, I am not an expert at formline art. I've been practicing it under the tutelage of my aunt and father for about 3 or so years now, and there are definitely cultural variations that come into play as well. My culture's formline art style can look completely different from someone who is Haida or otherwise. This critique of the graffiti designs is based off my knowledge and skill at formline art, as well as critique and feedback that I've gotten from family. Formline art isn't just something you look at and replicate, there is a specific process of utilizing the shapes and negative space that you need to account for too. Some shapes have their own rules for how they're used as well.

Despite the beginner mistakes, the clear resemblances are pretty definitive proof that a good section of the sticker/graffiti designs for the salmonids are meant to be, or at the very least based off of or inspired by, formline art.

Splatoon's lore has a lot of elements of taking inspiration from real life culture (which is sort of one of the main elements of the story, the squids and octos are basing their society off long dead humans). Hell, Shiver and Frye are two prime examples of Splatoon working in real world culture into their setting and characters.

With that in mind, using an art style that's exclusive to an ethnicity of people as inspiration or baseline reference for the game mode that's all about taking natural resources from a species that in-game dialogue tends to treat as dangerous and lesser-minded is... not a good choice. Especially an ethnicity that has historically been ravaged and attacked by settlers for natural resources.

Now, technically if you do digging into lore for salmon run, you can find out that the salmonid are not as simple-minded as the dialogue in-game (I am staring directly at the deep cut big run announcement dialogue we've gotten so far -_-) makes them out to be. The salmonids do trades and commerce with the octarians for equipment and gear. That's why they have such technically high tech gear, like the scrappers with their shields that actually resemble octarian shields and the flyfish with their missiles and flying aircraft. That's also why power eggs show up in the story mode; they're from the salmonids' trades with the octarians.

So the salmonid could technically be as just as smart as the inklings, which is why the dialogue and some of the portrayals of the salmonid are confusing and contradictory (shiver's dialogue from the first big run, that one promo picture of an inkling walking a smallfry on a leash????). I think a good bit of the fanbase sort of thinks of the little buddy we get during the game as a pet, and I'm sure that much more of the fanbase/playerbase doesn't really care about the lore whatsoever. Salmonids sort of have a similar vibe to me as hilichurls from Genshin Impact, where the lore tells you that they're smarter than people assume while NPCs talk of them as less intelligent monsters. And you're also caught in this paradox where killing/fighting them feels morally wrong but the gameplay loop has you continuously doing that while also telling you on the downlow that you should sort of feel bad about it.

Rassicas did a really good video on translating salmonid lore from various interviews, which is where I learned a lot about the salmonid lore that doesn't really get explained/brought up in the game.

The usage of formline art in Splatoon has me sort of mixed on my opinion, because besides using an Indigenous art style for an enemy species that are considered lesser in intelligence by the NPCs, Indigenous art and culture as a whole has suffered a lot under colonialism. I don't know how much awareness whoever is reading this has about Indigenous history and colonialism, but Indigenous culture as a whole was banned in North America by the respective governments from being practiced by the respective cultural groups. Things such as ceremonies, regalia, and even practicing formline art were banned from being used by Indigenous people. Non-Indigenous people however were free to use it, which is why a lot of bastardized versions of Indigenous regalia and culture exists. You can see it in non-indigenous spiritual practices utilizing Indigenous practices and terminology like spirit animals and dreamcatchers, and sports teams utilizing Indigenous culture in its labelling and mascots. That is where cultural appropriation comes into play. And before I get anybody commenting about this, the salmonid formlines don't count as "cultural appreciation" because as far as the info available is concerned, there wasn't any Indigenous people that were consulted for the designs. And even if there were, I again have mixed feelings about Splatoon utilizing an Indigenous art style as a design piece for an enemy character in the franchise.

On another note, this isn't the first time Indigenous cultural appropriation has popped up in the Splatoon franchise. There was actually a headgear that was unreleased in the first Splatoon game called "Warrior Headdress", and you can guess what it looked like.

Yeah. That was all levels of yikes and I'm thankful as hell that it didn't make it into the game (technically it's not in the game as a wearable item, but you can spot it at the very back of the headgear shop ingame)

So Splatoon has utilized Indigenous culture as inspiration beforehand with the games, so it's not much of a stretch anymore to think that the salmon run graffiti designs were based off formline art or was an attempt at formline art.

I'm not really sold on the idea that the salmonid are meant to be representative of Indigenous people though, nor do I believe that utilizing formline art for the salmonid was a malicious decision. But it was a slightly ignorant decision at best, because again using Indigenous specific art for a species of enemies that gets fought for their natural resources and is referred to by some of the NPCs as basically being lesser-minded animals is really not a good decision.

This whole thread is not meant as a guilt trip for anyone who likes the salmonid lore, has bought any of the salmonid graffiti stickers, or enjoys salmon run, nor is it an accusation of the devs for maliciously misusing Indigenous culture. I actually really enjoy salmon run for it's PSP and concept, but this design aspect gives me mixed feelings as an Indigenous person. And to be honest it's hard to label intentions or the thought process because there isn't any info available on the development of salmon run and those graffiti designs specifically. So it's hard to know if the devs employed an Indigenous artist for feedback or if they indeed just looked at some formline art of salmon and tried to replicate it or used it as inspiration. I'm inclined to believe the latter judging by the beginner formline mistakes seen in some of the designs. There is an art book coming out soon for Splatoon 3, so maybe that will give more info.

To wrap this all up, I don't think there is really anything to be done about the designs. The game has been out for a while and I don't know if the game would change the designs at this point. I also don't think this should stop people from buying the sticker designs in game or playing salmon run. However, it is important to learn about the context of these designs so that you know why they exist and why they can be harmful, and so devs and creators can avoid making the same mistake in the future, and so Indigenous issues with cultural appropriation can be made more aware in the public space and not be ridiculed by non-Indigenous people. And again, I am just one Indigenous person so there may be other opinions from other Indigenous people on the graffiti designs and how they should be handled or viewed.

If you made it this far, thanks for reading and have a good day!! Be sure to check out some actual Formline art made by Indigenous people, like the ones I listed near the top of the post!

[brynnmclean]

in the core of everything drums a beat - a fanmix for hellblade II: senua's saga & also my writing playlist for a fic I'm working on under the same name :) [LISTEN]

hertan, wardruna | iceland, robin carolan, sebastian gainsborough | volur, peter gundry | stranger in a strange land, stephanie economou | mín móðir, eivør | læknisgaldr, david garcía díaz | ravencraft, osi and the jupiter | galgaldr, heilung | skugge, wardruna | wanderer's mask, david garcía díaz | ray of hope, david garcía díaz | ran, kati ran | hear me, a tergo lupi | land of the northern, sarah schachner | the forest, dark fantasy studio | lady of the dawn, peter gundry | nesso, heilung | lyfjaberg, wardruna | dillion, david garcía díaz | ravens, a tergo lupi | sigil, stfur | senua's rage, aaron myke | alfadhirhaiti, heilung | ulfhednar, danheim | myrkr, heldom | in maidjan, heilung | hugsja, ivar bjørnson & einar selvik | fade under, a tergo lupi | thórgestr, david garcía díaz, rashdash | svanrand, heilung | cut the thread of fate, robin carolan, sebastian gainsborough | stearcost ealra, sowulo | fylgjutal, wardruna | blodbylgje, kati ran, gaahls wyrd | rot, a tergo lupi | senua's sorrow, aaron myke | my fate, david garcía díaz, helen goalen, abbi greenland | helvegen, kalandra | raido, wardruna | runami, stfur | ástríðr, david garcía díaz | norðrljós, skáld | gall goídil, danheim | solringen, wardruna | sverdhasøngurin, david garcía díaz | söngr lögsóta - song of the seahorse, einar selvik

[loserboyfriendrjl]

no need to respond to this, since you're not really in the fandom anymore but i was really wondering how your personality analysis for lily would be. from some of your (probably old) stuff i've seen your lily is soft(ish? she seemed soft to me) just like canon lily but she's not as plain and boring as canon lily. and i kinda just really like how you portrayed her and wanted to hear more about what you thought of her! ((again,, no need to respond!!! just curious.))

the first word that would come to one’s mind when thinking about lily is curious. she always sought to learn more, to be so very great, to be the best she could be.

the person she turned out to be (and implicitly, one of her biggest fears) was shaped by her childhood. the rejection she faced from petunia after finding out she was a witch made her look not to cross anyone, in order not to be left alone. however, her encounters with severus and finding out she was a muggleborn witch was considered a disadvantage for her, and therefore she started learning more about the wizarding world as soon as she had access to the information. her first source was severus snape, which is why she got so easily attached to her; not only was he one of the only friends she had (i consider cokeworth to have been a very small village, where everyone was always connected) and he understood her “strangeness”, but he was also the only person who could help her not be completely oblivious to the world she was about to be a part of.

when she first got to hogwarts, she was more focused on the academic, rather than the social aspect the school offered. she got along fairly well with her dormmates, but marlene and mary were always closer to each other than to her (due to the fact they were childhood friends, but also because lily was not particularly interested in making friends when she first came to hogwarts). she was considered a bit stuck-up by them, but the reality was that lily was truly driven and ambitious; if she wanted to do something in the wizarding world, she had to focus on being the greatest.

with time, her thirst for being the very best dimmed ever so slightly, due to the fact that she had already made a reputation among her professors. horace slughorn had taken a particular liking to her, and being invited to the slug club, despite the fact that she was a muggleborn and a gryffindor, which was not the general criteria one had to tick off to be a part of the exclusive club, was the last bit of validation that lily needed in order to believe of herself as successful.

during and after her fifth year, when she was announced prefect, she began to make a name of herself aside her academical achievements. she was pleasant to be around, communicative and one would consider her “one of the upperclassmen that got off their high horse to be around the lowerclassmen”, hypothetically speaking. a lot of people knew her name and liked her, but just about as many had the opposite opinion and, despite the fact that lily was slightly sensitive to criticism, she decided not to listen to them, because she knew what she was capable of and how much she worked to be the person she was.

lily was compassionate, warm-hearted, caring, kind and welcoming to everyone, as well as open-minded. she believes people deserve a second chance, a chance to redeem themselves and prove their real worth, rather than the apparent. despite the fact that she appears to be soft-cored (which she is, to an extent) she is fierce and not afraid to speak out her mind, even when other people think she is wrong. when people cross her, she can be quite ruthless, but she would never resort to physical aggression, opting for sword-like words.

her fatal flaw could be exactly the trust she puts in people, bordering on naivety and a tendency to end up hurt. not only that, but she tends to be judgy sometimes and to say what she believes on that topic, happening to upset people sometimes. she always apologises, though, whether or not it takes her a while or not (she can be quite prideful). she has a slight inferiority complex that, over the course of the years, she starts getting over.

however, she is very likeable, and people often come to her for advice, which she offers generously and, most of the time, she tries, objectively. people like being around her, and she likes being around people; her likeableness and sociability brought her far.

[todayisafridaynight]

Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.

i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon