#I did it in black and white because color would’ve been hell

[ianhoolihandeluxe]

ok so last week the good-natured @esme-starly made shitpost fanart of my shitpost and I wanted to repay such a gesture with my own art contribution to the THC community but I can’t draw

anyways, have my shitty (pun intended) First Sequence art

[lumax-mayclair]

Watched the the new Zoey 101 movie (guilty) and I thought it was fine. I really think if they wrote a couple things a little differently it would’ve been better:

Like Quinn being overwhelmed by the wedding preparation because she’s never thought about having a big wedding but ofc Logan has, that all makes sense and I hear what she’s saying but I don’t really see what she’s saying. In terms of storytelling and film making, I feel like they should’ve dramatisized everything more. Like the life sized cakes was the only thing that seemed over the top and I can see how that’s a little much but nowhere else did it seem like Logan was making more of a “spectacle than making it meaningful”.

They should’ve run more with the sight gags like those cakes because as the wedding ends up looking just very plain (not a diss) but very classy and elegant looking. Even Quinn’s dress is so simple but beautiful.

It’s a small venue, the wedding colors are green, black, and white. Very simple. Some flowers here and there.

I guess Lyric was one of those overwhelming gags also to emphasize how “over the top” all this is but that’s her “gift” to them, she’s Quinn’s sister in law and they’ve known each other for nearly 15 yrs so why are we overwhelmed with something that should be normal coming from her ???

(p.s. unpopular opinion: I liked Lyrics’ song, the melody was great, the lyrics eh, but I like the line “she’s in her wedding dress and he’s hoping she’ll say yes”; very Quogan, very “She’s everything, He’s just Ken”.)

Anyway moving away from Quogan: Michael. Literally what is the point of taking one of the main main characters who bothered to return for this reboot, and having them lose their voice so they can’t speak for half the movie. You might say it’s due to controversy but if they cared about controversies, they wouldn’t have done this movie at all 🤷🏻‍♀️.

Stacey & Mark: to preface: personally I loved Stacey in the original and Mark is…Mark 🤷🏻‍♀️. I kinda wish they had mentioned Stacy’s original obsession with Logan in the series, I think that could’ve been fun if they worked that in somehow. They did mention Mark & Quinn dating but (ins how everyone feels about this) I would’ve liked if Mark had regret about dump—breaking up with (😅) Quinn and was holding a torch for her or something because again: she’s everything. The whole dynamic of Quogan and Stark being couple besties…wasn’t the vibe imo. The whole thing of Stacey interrupting the wedding bcs she’s obsessed with murder mysteries like since when?? How did that happen?? WHERE ARE THE COTTEN SWABS AND WHITE GLUE!!!!!? You’re gonna tell me a friend officiating their 2 friends wedding doesn’t think to turn off their notifications when they’re reading the nuptials off their phone during said wedding like—?? Especially when one of her announcements was for everyone to silence their phones????!

Speaking of phones out during the wedding: Zoey.

I mean…it’s Zoey (JLS) who’s surprised that this, the most special of days has to be made about her and her really weird and sad desire to go back to PCA. Also it’s really weird to me how that was the solution to the wedding being ruined when literally she’s the only one feigning to go back, the others are doing great and are cool being done with that. They look back fondly, not longingly, so idk why it was played like getting married at PCA is somehow Quinn’s dream and the solution to their problem. And if we do go back and have the Quogan wedding there, HOW ARE WE NOT GONNA INCLUDE THEIR BENCH!!!!? I mean maybe the group didn’t know about it, maybe, but Logan definitely would and speaking of Logan.

Nothing much wrong with him in the film tbh, he was so husband it was great actually, but what the hell was that line?? They’ve been together, again, almost 15 years. There is 0 chance he doesn’t know to talk to her if they’re having a problem. To be fair tho, I think the implication was that in the hustle and bustle and over the top ness of the wedding he lost sight of them as a couple and how their dynamic works and that’s why Quinn was upset but like, really?? all Zoey has to say is “have you tried just talking to her” and he remembers that that’s what they do…?? Okay.

Anyway, I think we all agree a Quogan movie would’ve been better. 😊😊

Oh! P.s. Chase! This is really sad and pathetic. Get over this, bitch!!

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Alternate AU: Winter Break 1998

Adam and Jonah take a job in Mandela County, one taking place in the abandoned Heathcliff residence.

TW: character death, blood, gore, body horror

Notes: Hey. Second fic. Pretty neat. Really appreciate the response to the last one by the way (even if it was a while ago.) this is a bit over 5000 words, so a little shorter than the last one, but still a little long. Hope you like it :)

February 14th, 1998.

Snow cloaked the ground on the sides of the road, burying the grass and dead leaves as snowflakes fell to the ground slowly from the cloudy sky.  Standing alone next to a forest was one simple sign, reading “WELCOME TO MANDELA COUNTY” in bold, green letters. Snow stuck to the metal, making its message hard to read, though it didn’t go unnoticed. The sound of tires rolling on the pavement grew louder as a grey car sped past it, heading into Mandela County while also disobeying the speed limit.

“Ugh…finally.” A man groaned when he saw the sign before taking another drink from the can in his hand. His silver hair was swept to the left side, with its black roots being visible. A white sweatshirt cloaked his torso, itself being partially covered by a black leather jacket. He was leaned back in his seat, staring forward at the road before him. “Why don’t we get the easy jobs? I mean, we have to drive all the way to fuckin’ Mandela County, and for what?”

“Dude, it’s just an hour and a half drive bro.” The driver spoke up. He was dressed in a raven black hoodie, which had yellow lettering on his chest that read “BPS”. His curly, caramel colored hair was messy, poking out from underneath his hood. His hands gripped the steering wheel, being covered by black fingerless gloves. He glanced over at his friend with a slight sneer. “Don’t tell me you’re scared already, Jonah.”

“What? Bro, no.” Jonah claimed, scoffing slightly. “I’m just saying that the others always get the in-town jobs, and we have to bust our asses just to get some money.”

“Yeah, because they’re the ‘leaders’ and get to choose what jobs they do.” The driver stated.

“Yeah, and it’s just kinda dumb.” Jonah said. “I mean, Adam, how much to you want to bet that Seth would’ve flipped on us taking a job without him knowing?”

“Oh, I don’t have to bet anything,” Adam replied. “I know he would’ve just been like, ‘why didn’t you tell me this’ or ‘why are you doing that’; I mean, it’s fucking ridiculous. He’s a total nutcase, dude.”

“Though…do you think we should’ve at least told Sarah where we were going?” Jonah asked.

“And have her snitch on us?” Adam chuckled slightly. “Hell no.”

“Alright.” Jonah said, taking another sip from his energy drink. “…Hey…what even was the job again?”

“Are you kidding me?”

“Like, I know it’s about some like…ghostly apparition at some abandoned house, but what did the person want?” Jonah asked.

“I don’t know, but what I do know is that we’re getting 15 hundred bucks just to housesit for a night.” Adam said with a smile. “I mean…we’re fucking set for a while, dude.”

“But don’t you think it’s kinda weird that they…didn’t tell us what they wanted us to do about this…ghost?” Jonah questioned.

“Does it matter?”

“…Kind of, yeah, considering we’re driving all the way out there.” Jonah said. “I mean, what if it’s…like…an alternate or something?”

“Yeah! What if it is?” Adam echoed, excitement bubbling up inside him. “Seth would flip his fucking shit if he thought we were on an alternate hunt, but come on dude, this is our chance!”

“Did…you take this job just to get back at him?” Jonah asked.

“Do you really think I’m that petty?”

“I’m not saying that—”

“Kind of, yeah. The guy needs a fucking wake up call, to know that he can’t keep bossing us around.” Adam stated. “But just…the chance to see an alternate do its thing…almost no one has been able to do that.”

“Yeah, because they all die, Adam.” Jonah said, leaning forward slightly as he stared at Adam, his eyes showing more uncertainty than before. “If this is some alternate shit, I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“Come on, we’re not even there yet.” Adam said. “Besides, it’ll only be for one night. You can survive one night, can you?”

“I fucking hope so.”

 When they finally made it into town, the noticed the lack of activity. Streets were oddly empty, though the two chalked it up to it being a cold winter evening. Christmas decorations were already up in the windows of the locals, along with the occasional lawn ornament. The festive décor and feel didn’t stop the strange feeling of dread from swelling in Jonah’s chest. Adam appeared unaffected by the eerie mood that Mandela gave, so Jonah decided to try and be unaffected by it too, despite it just getting worse the closer they got to their destination.

They drove down a street, passing by increasingly empty looking houses, with the Christmas lights becoming sparse. Soon they passed by a small line of leafless trees, finally being face to face with the house they heard about over the phone. It was a dull grey color, with most of the paint peeling away underneath the blanket of snow concealing it. Its windows were blackened, and its driveway barren. It was only two stories tall, but the feeling it gave Jonah made it almost feel like a skyscraper. Adam pulled the car into the driveway, leaving fresh tracks in the nearly foot deep snow.

“Alright...we’re here.” Adam said, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Wait,” Jonah lightly grabbed onto Adam’s arm before he opened his car door. “I…I don’t know about this place, man.”

“What are you talking about, it’s fine—”

“It just…feels off.” Jonah stated. “Don’t you feel it?”

“…No.” Adam said, almost sounding like it was a dumb question. “It’s literally just an empty house, bro.”

“Yeah, but a freaky empty house.” Jonah said, making Adam shake his head with a scoff.

“Alright, fine. I’ll go in.” Adam said. “You can stay out here and twiddle your thumbs while I actually do the important shit.”

Adam opened his door before stepping it out, slamming it shut behind him as he walked in front of the car and towards the front door of the house.

“…You don’t have to be shitty about it.” Jonah muttered as he leaned back in his seat.

Adam stared at the door, his hands in his hoodie pockets before he grabbed onto the door handle. To his surprise, the door was unlocked, as if the owner didn’t even care about home intruders. Either way, Adam was just happy that he didn’t have to bother with lock picking. Jonah watched as Adam glanced back towards him, a wide smirk on his face before he closed the door and disappeared into the house. Jonah slid further down his seat, his arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t sure why, but he was feeling dread creeping into his mind. Adam better not drag his feet; Jonah was starting to have the inkling that the one and a half thousand dollars wasn’t worth it.

Adam’s flashlight shone across the dark living room, hitting the dusty furniture and the walls, which had cracked picture frames hanging on them. A couple of them depicted two teenagers hanging out, and in one they were wearing Halloween costumes. “Hmm. Hey, Jonah?” Adam spoke into his radio.

“Yeah?”

“There are these photos, of like...two boys.” Adam said, sliding his bag off his shoulder before taking a camera out of it. “They look like they were friends or something.”

“…Okay…?” Jonah responded. “Anything else?”

“I dunno…though they’re all…cracked.” Adam pointed his camera towards the pictures on the wall, snapping a photo with a bright flash. “Wonder what that’s all about…and who these people are.”

“I think you’re looking too far into things.” Jonah said. “I mean, who doesn’t have family photos in their house? Aside from us, of course...”

Adam wandered around the house, seeing the state of disarray it was in after nearly a decade of stasis. He walked past the couch and the small table beside it, which had a rotary phone resting on top, covered in cobwebs. Adam stared at the phone for a little while before his hand grabbed onto the phone, pulling it off of its hook as the webs came apart from the table. Adam shook his head slightly before putting the phone back down, wiping the grime on his hand off onto his jeans.

He turned around, seeing a stairway in the dark corner of the room, leading to the second story. The closer he got to it, the colder it seemed, even colder than the frigid living room. “Going upstairs.” Adam spoke into the radio.

“Oh…alright, just…be careful.” Jonah warned.

“Yeah yeah…” Adam muttered to himself as soon as he put his radio back onto his belt. He walked up the steps, finding himself in a small hallway, devoid of light until his flashlight hit the door at the end of it. He stopped and looked around at the walls, noticing that they were completely barren. The light bulb on the roof was shattered, as if it just exploded at some point. Adam stepped over the creaking floorboards before reaching for the door knob. As soon as he grabbed it, he pulled it back in shock; it was as cold as ice, as if he just put his fingers in the snow. He then breathed in deeply before gripping it again and turning it, though the door appeared to be locked shut.

“Hey Jonah, there’s a locked door here.” Adam said.

“Yeah? What about it?”

“It’s the only one in here.” Adam stated. “You brought the lock picks, right?”

“Uh…I think so, yeah.” Jonah recalled.

“Alright. I’ll be out in a sec.” Adam put his radio away, turning before walking down the dark hall. As he approached the stairway, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, as if someone was standing right behind him. He swung around, shining his flashlight into the darkness, seeing nothing but the dust particles floating in the stagnant air. He stared down the hallway for a few moments before leaving down the stairs, a bit quicker than he did before.

 “So uh…what was it exactly?” Jonah asked, back pressed against the side of the car as Adam rummaged through the cluttered trunk.

“I don’t know…it was like…” Adam paused. “You ever shut the lights off in the basement and run up the stairs because you have this…feeling that something is chasing you? It was like that.”

“…Huh…” Jonah scratched the back of his neck. “And the door?”

“I don’t know, but I need to get through.” Adam said. “Something’s gotta be behind it, you know?”

“Adam, I really don’t think we should—”

“You said you brought the lock picks.” Adam interrupted, standing up straight as he stared into the trunk.

“I did.”

“Well, look.” Adam gestured towards the many boxes in the car. “You see them?”

Jonah took one brief glance into the junk. “…uh…no?”

“Fuck, Jonah…” Adam groaned. “God damn it…”

“I’m sorry; I thought they were already in there!” Jonah claimed.

“Did you even look before we left?”

“Look, they’re not there, okay?” Jonah said as Adam sighed deeply. “Does that mean we can leave now? The suns almost set, it’s getting really fucking cold; we should head back before the others start getting suspicious.”

“Jonah, I know you’re scared, but I really feel like something deeper is going on around here.” Adam said. “I mean…this house; some shit is going on here, I can feel it.”

“I know, that’s the problem—”

Jonah and Adam’s attention were drug to the house when the sound of screams erupted from inside. Jonah jumped back slightly, hearing the sound of what sounded like an entire choir of horrid screeches, though Adam seemed to be unfazed. If anything, a smile was forming on his face.

“Oh, fuck this.” Jonah rushed to the passenger side door, reaching for the handle before Adam grabbed his arm.

“Wha—Jonah, come on, we can’t leave now!” Adam said.

“Dude, we need to get out of here,” Jonah responded. “I mean, did you hear that shit?!”

“Yeah!” Adam said with a half chuckle. “Things are starting to get interesting; I’m not leaving until I see what’s going on.”

“Are you fucking crazy?” Jonah questioned. “You’re not fucking invincible, dude—”

“Who knows, maybe I am crazy,” Adam responded. “But at least I’m doing the job we’re being paid to do.”

“Adam, please—”

“I’ve already made up my mind.” Adam stated. “You can be a pussy all you want, but I’m going back in.”

 Jonah felt the air get colder as he stared at the house, waiting for Adam to talk to him on the radio. The sun had disappeared below the horizon, making the sky appear to be a dark void above his head. His face stung from the cold as he pressed his crossed arms into his chest. It was oddly quiet, as if the town was completely dead. When Adam eventually did call through the radio, it nearly startled him.

“Jonah, you there?”

Jonah fumbled with his radio as he brought it up to his mouth. “Uh, yeah! Yeah, I’m here, what’s up?”

“I’m in the kitchen right now…and the fridge is still…stocked.” Adam glanced at the closed fridge from afar. “Everything’s rotten…but no one even bothered to throw everything away, like this place was abandoned in a hurry.”

“Adam, I really don’t like this.” Jonah said.

“Can you stop complaining for more than five seconds?” Adam said. “I finally get the chance to go on a job alone, and you’re barking at me the entire time.”

“You get a chance to—Adam, we’re supposed to be working together!” Jonah said.

“Yeah, and you’re doing a piss-poor job of holding your end of it.”

“Look, can we…please just leave?” Jonah begged. “Like…let’s get a fucking pizza and go home, I’m getting hungry and cold out here.”

“Ugh…you know what? Fine.” Adam said. Before Jonah could feel the overwhelming relief from hearing that sentence, Adam continued. “But I need to get into the room upstairs. Something about it…it feels like it’s calling me.”

“Calling you?! And you don’t see anything weird about that?” Jonah nearly shouted.

“Jonah, I’m trying to compromise; I’m going to try and unlock the door, and if it doesn’t work, we’ll leave, and if I can get in, we’ll get out of here the second I’m out.” Adam sighed. “…You happy with that?”

“…Fine.”

“Good.” Adam put his radio away, rolling his eyes as he approached the stairway once again.  He slowly crept up the steps, the chilly air hitting his face as he found himself in the upstairs hallway. He stared at the bedroom door, his light hitting the chipped paint and strange dark-colored splotches that stained the wood. He took in a deep breath before grabbing onto the frigid handle. To his surprise, it turned, and the door creaked open ever so slightly.

“Huh…what do you know…?” Adam muttered as he pushed the door open further. He saw the window adjacent to the door first, and the faint light bleeding into the room from it. He walked inside, seeing the nightstand resting next to the wall to his left. A shattered television was resting on it, and pieces of garbage and old, mildew-ridden clothes surrounded the base of the wooden drawers. Just by looking at it, it was clear that whoever lived in there didn’t care about cleaning much. However, after Adam got used to the smell of mold and mildew, something else stung his nose. He turned towards the rest of the room behind him, and his excited smile was ripped away from his face.

The white sheets on the bed was stained with dark crimson, dried and coagulated from years of festering. “What the f…” Adam shone his light towards the closet door in front of the foot of the bed, seeing a large splatter of the same red substance, along with a small hole in the wood. Bullet casings littered the floor next to the bed, and only one rested in the large splotch of blood that stained the bed.

“W-What…w…what the fuck, what the fuck.” Adam hurriedly pulled his radio up. “Jonah, are you there?”

“Yeah, is something wrong?” Jonah questioned, noticing how shaky Adam’s voice was.

“I-I…I think…this is a crime scene, dude.” Adam stated, his eyes fixed on the blood stains. “There’s…there’s blood…everywhere.”

Jonah shook his head, muttering something to himself before yelling into the radio. “Adam, that’s fucking it; get the fuck out of there!” Jonah pleaded.

“No, I…I can’t…” Adam muttered, “Not yet.”

“What the hell do you mean?!” Jonah yelled.

“I’ve finally found something, I just need to—”

“Listen, if you don’t get out of there now, I’m leaving without you.” Jonah stated. “And I…I don’t want to do that, but please, just think about it for a second!”

Adam barely heard the message, as the signal abruptly became very weak. He wasn’t paying attention anyway, as he saw a glimpse of something under the bed. He crouched down slowly, his hand reaching for the object before he drug it out from under the bed. He stared at it for a moment, feeling for the first time in a while a sense of overwhelming dread. It was a pistol; its barrel stained with blood along with the rest of everything in the room.

Adam dropped the gun before turning to leave, only to freeze in place when he saw a figure in the doorway. Adam’s wide eyes stared at the figure as his flashlight flickered, making it hard to see whoever, or whatever, was there. Adam could barely make out that the figure was wearing a blood-stained pale grey sweatshirt, along with pink sweatpants. His face was nearly completely enveloped in darkness; a void behind a cracked face like porcelain. A gold cross hung from his necklace, hovering in front of his chest weightlessly. He seemed to be slightly shorter than Adam, though the fact that he was hovering above the ground made it appear otherwise.

Adam was silent, pondering whether he wanted to ask it a question or run away. There was nowhere to go, and nowhere to hide, and as the flashlight shut off, Adam realized that his decision wouldn’t have mattered. The figure in front of him already made the decision for him.

“Adam, can you hear me?!” Jonah yelled into his radio. When static was the only response, he groaned before pacing back in forth next to the car. “Adam, I swear to God, please—”

The sound of shattering glass nearly startled the skin off of Jonah’s bones, coming from directly behind him. He swung around just in time to see Adam falling from the second story window, as if he was thrown out. His screams were haunting, and Jonah swore that time slowed down as he careened towards the frosty ground. Jonah knew that with practice and skill, one could live a drop from the second story without injury, though he knew it wouldn’t be the case with Adam. Adam was falling head first.

The screams were cut off by a loud snap, echoing throughout the night as Adam slammed against the ground. Jonah instinctually looked away, hearing the sound of faint gurgling and cracking before slowly turning back to see what had happened. “Adam…?” Jonah whimpered, seeing Adam’s body on the ground, twitching. His neck was bent completely to the side, and one of the arms he used to try and protect his head was snapped in twain. Blood spat out of his mouth, and his wide, terror-filled eyes stared straight ahead, almost looking directly at Jonah.

“…A…ADAM!” Jonah cried out in horror, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stumbled backwards, his back hitting the side of the vehicle. “Adam…oh god, what the FUCK!” Jonah scrambled towards the driver’s side door, swinging it open before jumping inside. He whimpered to himself as he started the car, backing out of the driveway before speeding down the road.

As Jonah fled, the broken figure floated in front of the window, which was shattered from Adam careening through it. He watched as the cars taillights disappeared down the street, his one eye fixed on it as it drove away. His hands curled up into fists, shaking as he felt his own rage build up inside of his hollow body. “…You…COWARD!” He shouted, his voice accompanied by a city’s worth of screams, echoing throughout the night.

 Jonah whimpered to himself, hyperventilating as he sped down the dark road, with what little visibility he had being dampened by the falling snow. He couldn’t stop crying as much as he tried, sobbing as he frantically tried to figure out what he should, or even could do. He was barely processing all that had happened; it all went wrong at once, giving Jonah no time to react. As he drove out of town and down the empty highway, he shook his head, slowing the car down before pulling over to the side of the road.

He glanced up at the sign on the side of the road, which rested near a small forest on the right. “Thank you for visiting Mandela Cty, WI. Come again!” was written in faded text, as if it had been there for a while. Jonah shakily grabbed the door handle, stumbling out onto the slick street as he stared at the relatively small, snow cloaked wheat field on the other side. He crouched down, staring at the ground with his hands gripping his head as the cold air stung his nose.

He had no idea what to fucking do. He had no clue what he could do. The BPS HQ was still miles away, and with no reception, he couldn’t contact the others. What would he say when he got there? Oh God, what could he even say to them? Would he tell them that they went on an investigation by themselves, not even bothering to tell anyone? Would he tell them that Adam was dead because of their own negligence? How would they react? Jonah’s mind was swimming in circles, unable to think of a single coherent thought. He didn’t know what to do. Adam was dead, and Jonah felt deep in his bones that it was partially his fault. He left him there, not even bothering to help him.

He sighed shakily and deeply before he stood up, running his fingers through his hair as he gathered his thoughts. He glanced behind him at the car he was leaning against before reaching for the handle. He pulled on it, but it didn’t open the door; it didn’t even move an inch. He pulled against it with all his might, but it remained still. “What…what the hell—” He was interrupted when he saw something in the corner of his eye. He turned from the car back onto the road, freezing in place when he saw a figure around twenty feet away. He was glaring back at Jonah, his gaze feeling as though it could puncture Jonah’s soul.

“…Shit…shit, SHIT—” Jonah ran towards the wheat field, the figure simply gliding over the ground after him. “LEAVE ME ALONE!” Jonah pleaded, glancing back as tears streamed down his face. To his surprise, the alternate was no longer there, as if he had disappeared. Jonah slowed down for a moment in the middle of the field, his feet buried in the deep snow. He frantically looked around, wondering if his prayer had actually been answered. However, when he felt a presence directly behind him, he figured out that his pleading fell upon deaf ears.

“You…coward.” The alternate growled as Jonah hesitantly turned to face him.

“P-Please…I didn’t do anything…” Jonah cried, wondering when the figure was going to kill him.

“You left him behind…” The alternate droned. “He’s DEAD BECAUSE OF YOU!” Jonah covered his ears as a cacophony of voices screamed at him.

“Let me go…please…” Jonah begged.

The figure leaned away for a moment, raising his cold, blackened hand towards Jonah. Jonah was sobbing, staring up at the weightless man in front of him, expecting him to end his life right then and there. Instead of that however, the figure remained completely still. Jonah realized he was scratching his own neck as he prepared for death, and soon he felt his skin become increasingly itchy, like he was covered in bug bites. He scratched harder at one place near the front of his neck, with it becoming increasingly red and irritated. His chest and forearms began to follow suit, as they started to feel inflamed and uncomfortable.

“Wh…what…?” Jonah muttered to himself, pulling his hand away just long enough to notice his fingernails were beginning to be stained red. His neck and arms were scratched raw, bleeding down the thin claw marks left from Jonah’s feeble attempt to relieve the discomfort. It didn’t seem like the scratching was helping at all, as parts of his skin were only becoming increasingly dry and irritated. “What the fuck—?”

A sharp pain suddenly hit his face, causing him to stumble back and groan slightly. He lightly touched his cheeks, with them stinging at the slightest touch. It felt as though his skin was being sliced open with a newly sharpened scalpel, and as Jonah looked at the blood slowly running down his arms and collar bones, he realized that it wasn’t just his face that was being cut. “What the fuck, what the FUCK!” Jonah rolled up his sleeves, staring at the two thin, parallel lines cut deep right next to his elbow, wrapping around his arm and up his bicep. He touched his neck, feeling two similar lines running up both sides of his face, all the way up to his eyelids. Blood was beginning to stain his white sweatshirt and drip onto the snow below as Jonah stumbled backwards, unable to understand what was happening to him all while the figure in front of him gave him a cold, unfeeling glare.

As if it was pure impulse, Jonah couldn’t stop scraping himself with his nails, despite the increasing stinging pain he felt rushing all over his body. His mind was racing, his memories becoming increasingly foggy as he began to yell and cry out from the pain. As he scratched at one of his arms, he suddenly felt a strong searing pain, feeling his finger drag something away from his arm. He looked down at what he was doing before he felt his heart sink to his feet. His fingers had stripped away the skin all together, revealing the muscles underneath.

Jonah had run out of words, and all he could do was scream as loud as his vocal cords would allow into the night air, ripping his hand away from the rapidly bleeding wound. However, the flesh just simply tore off by itself, and soon he could see the bones in his arm. He stared at it in pure horror before feeling a similar searing pain in his other arm. The muscle and skin was falling off of him, and soon the searing pain spread across his body as strips of skin peeled off like bandages. His cheeks were stripped away, revealing his jaw and teeth along with the underside of his eyes. He didn’t see what else was being torn off of him, as he felt his eyes roll up into his head and his face slam against the cold snow below him as he lost consciousness.

 Jonah figured that was it. He accepted that he was a dead man; killed in a horrifying way that would make medieval torturers shed a tear. However, when he felt the cold snow pressing against his body as he regained consciousness, he realized that he wasn’t as lucky as he thought.

His eyes flipped open, taking a little while to adjust to the darkness around him, only broken by his car’s headlights next to the road. His entire body was in unbearable agony, and blood was seeping into his clothes and into the ground below him. He stared at his arm, which was resting right beside his head, seeing that it was nothing but bone, held together by thin strips of flesh. The bone however appeared to be a pure black color, like a silhouette. Jonah’s face felt like it was burning, and his body felt as though he was barely put together. The figure appeared to be gone, so despite the sheer agony he was in, Jonah had to make it to the car before it came back.

He shakily pushed himself up with his arms, but couldn’t rise to his feet. He tried to get up, but his legs didn’t budge. He slowly turned himself around to lie on his back, feeling his exposed spine come in contact with the cold. He sat up slightly, trying to move his legs, but not even a twitch came from them. He couldn’t feel them anymore, as if they didn’t even exist. He was paralyzed from the waist down, no longer able to walk. He fought the urge to scream in both pain and mental anguish, not wanting to let the alternate know he was still alive.

He cried, feeling his tears hit the exposed muscles underneath his eyes, but he no longer cared. He laid on his stomach, beginning to drag himself towards the road with his skeletal arms, every single movement making his body cry out more. As he slowly drug himself to safety, he noticed something hanging off of his wrist. A few thin strings were tied around his wrists, running slack on the ground before going straight up. No matter how high he looked, they only seemed to go forever, disappearing into the darkness above. Jonah nevertheless pressed on, crawling closer and closer towards the light.

He continued to move the best he could before he felt a small tug on his left wrist. He glanced towards it, noticing that the string was slowly becoming taut, raising up into the air. The same was happening with the right arm as well, with Jonah slowly feeling panic bubble up inside of him. When he felt a small tug on his neck, he realized that not only were his wrists tied, but his neck also had strings around it. He saw as the strings began to pull at his arms, raising them into the air.

“No…no…no no NO NO!” Jonah resisted against the force trying to pull him up, but whatever was on the other side of the strings was stronger than he could ever be. He felt the strings around his neck tighten, and soon, he felt himself be taken off of the ground, his paralyzed legs dangling below him. He felt as though he had a noose around his neck, and the strings around his wrists dug into them like barbed wire. He could no longer move, as his arms were forced to be stretched out to the side, like a living marionette. He kept rising into the sky before stopping, and when he looked back up, he saw the figure, his cold stare still fixed on Jonah’s feeble form.

“W-Why…? Why won’t you just…just fucking kill me…?” Jonah croaked, unable to raise his voice.

The figure stared at him silently for a moment, before his inhuman voice began to speak once again. “I can’t kill you yet.” He stated. “I have a job for you.”

[olipeaksforever]

Silver Moon Over Sleeping Steeples

Summary: Dale Cooper has escaped the Black Lodge after embracing his doppelganger, but after BOB starts to possess him and try to turn him into the monster Dale never wanted to be, he must come to terms with his flaws and face his biggest fears to reclaim power over his own body again.

Content warning for: mentions of rape, suicide attempts, self harm, substance abuse and weight loss.

Inspired by: @kasparovv 's phenomenal stories of possession series... go read them NOW!!! also david sylvian's song silver moon over sleeping steeples...

You can leave a nice comment here and in the ao3 upload!!

Dale was never so grateful to be back home. 

After the worst weeks of his life, he was never so grateful to be back in that cavern he considered home. When he first moved there four years ago, it was a safe and sound place for him. 

That stage was always short, the walls quickly echoed his cries and nightly screams, after feeling the same knife stuck his heart over and over again after that night. He remembered the laughter of the person who stabbed him, which now disintegrated and he stopped listening for a long while. 

They had finally finished emptying Dale's last remaining box from his now old office. He had put the books back in his bookshelf, the little brown Tibetan cat figurine on the coffee table in the living room, and an old polaroid photo of him, Albert and Diane in 1982 he put in a frame where a picture of Caroline had once lain. Dale sighed, and walked with Albert towards the door. To say he was tired was an understatement.

A week ago, he'd come out of hell on earth, of red velvet curtains and chevron flooring, and when he did, he'd been dead for ten minutes thanks to a hemorrhage he had on arrival at the hospital. When they were able to revive him, the first thing his eyes caught was his family. And not what was left of it, they were all there.

 His mother, aged but her hazel eyes were as warm as the last time Dale saw her before the colors were drained from them, was horrified to see her youngest son under wires and breathing masks as she came up to him and put her hand on his cheek, while Dale cried silently, not understanding why his mother was there. She had died twenty years ago and now she was alive again. 

The only thing he fully remembered from what his mother said to him was: "I'm just as confused as you are."

She was right. The last thing he remembered of the Black Lodge was when he ran back into his escaped doppelganger in one of those endless hallways. An exchange he'd had with Garland Briggs days ago had motivated him to do what he had to do when he'd gotten into the Black Lodge in the first place.

“Major Briggs, if I may ask a personal question… Do you love yourself?”

“Very much.”

“Then it stands to reason that Leland Palmer didn’t.” What a bold thing for him to say, he thought. Because Dale didn’t want to recognize that he didn’t love himself either, and he failed constantly at it whenever he tried to apply his philosophy on himself.

“One could draw that conclusion. There are powerful forces of evil in the world. It is some men’s fate to confront great darkness. We each choose how to react. If the choice is fear, then we become vulnerable to darkness.”

And so it was that he grabbed his doppelganger tightly by his wrists and looked directly into his empty, pearly white eyes. All that he heard were his own disconsolate cries and screams, crying for help. Then he heard the marks of other realities. He heard Audrey moan and Diane cry, neither particularly in a kind context. 

Dale gasped, never expecting that in other universes, his doppelganger would’ve hurt them that way. He was capable of becoming like the people who had taken advantage of him when he was at his lowest, repeating the cycle of abuse he always wanted to break. He finally understood he too was capable of evil. 

But he stood still and firm, not cowering after such a shocking and dark reveal. His doppelganger furrowed his eyebrows, and his expression fell, turning more blue. Dale there found a young boy, no older than ten, crying on the floor. He bent down and reached out his hand to the boy's shoulder, and it was him. Dale sighed and helped him to sit up, his doppelganger remaining still.

The boy sniffled and cried, wiping the snot and tears that poured from his nose with his wrists, choking on his tears. Dale sat cross legged in front of him and brushed his back. The boy stopped crying for a second and fluttered his eyes open at the touch. He gulped and muttered: “If I hadn’t told her, she would be alive. I deserve to be alone.”

Dale shook his head no softly and pulled him for a hug, holding his head with his hand, closing his eyes. All of his darkest memories from his childhood to the last weeks of his life came back to him. 

The hospital visits that seemed to be endless, the appointments with the dentist that would leave him in more pain than he was before, meeting those hippies, BOB ruining the only safe space he had to cope with his illnesses by abusing him, his mother’s now inexistent death, Marie drowning, his college girlfriends, his first accidental kill at the FBI, the murders in Club Y, Caroline. He had been so alone when those things took place, or under a bad influence, but he wasn’t going to let himself be alone anymore.

“You don’t deserve to be alone, you have me now.” He whispered to the boy, as his doppelganger started to cry. “I love you.”

When Dale opened his eyes again, he was hugging his doppelganger, who was sobbing. Dale finally realized what this meant. Dale sighed and smiled a little, as his doppelganger opened his eyes back up.

 "Even if you can cause our pain in other people?" his doppelganger asked cryptically. 

"I choose not to. I recognize that I can, yet I will refuse to become like the people who have left me broken because I refuse to continue the cycle." Dale answered him, his hands on his doppelganger's shoulders. His doppelganger nodded his head.

"Then you must leave the institution that won't cooperate in protecting victims like us. Like Laura Palmer. The pain can no longer be ignored if you want to be saved." His doppelganger replied calmly, as if he hadn't cried prior to this answer. He was clearly referring to the FBI, and as strange as he sounded to say that, he clearly understood what he was referring to.

"I understand. You don't deserve the pain." Dale whispered, smiling at his doppelganger fondly.

 His doppelganger cried strangely again and smiled. His smile was tenebrous, but Dale remembered getting such a comment about his smile as well. Dale laughed a little, letting out a couple of tears in the process and hugging his doppelganger back tightly. 

Light blue lights flashed in the hallway again, and when the flashing stopped, he broke the hug and found Laura Palmer. The real Laura. They both froze completely at the sight of each other and suddenly, an exit to Glastonbury Grove opened up. Dale held her hand and walked out of the Black Lodge with her, but he had no memory of what happened between the time he left and the time he arrived at the hospital. He didn’t know where she was either. 

He knew we would always be with her, safe in their eternal retirement at the Black Lodge. Despite their outcomes, he had to thank everything to her. He could get out of there and so did she. 

He never thought he’d meet someone like him in his life. It seemed like he and Laura were connected, but he didn’t want to think about that. He just knew he exists thanks to her. He’s glad he got to help her.

He then resigned from the FBI once he was released from the hospital. He gave in his badge, signed all the files he was supposed to sign, his confiscated tapes were returned to him somehow, and he said goodbye to a distraught Diane, an emotional Gordon, and a sad Denise. Obviously he wasn't going to stop seeing any of the three of them, but he would miss their presence in his daily life, and he would miss having the one thing that made him feel alive, like he had a purpose. 

Dale could breathe and he could go back to living with others, but he was dead, he had nothing to do now that he gave up his life. Speaking of others, what was he doing?

"Earth to Coop." Ah yes, Albert had helped him unpack his things and organize them in his miserable apartment. What Albert muttered made him break out of his train of thought.

“Yes Albert.” He replied to him almost automatically, blinking. Albert grumbled and huffed.

"As I was saying, you are clearly not fit to be alone in this poor excuse of a house, and your recent disassociation further justifies my decision to stay here with you." Albert mentioned to him, causing Dale's eyes to widen and he put his hand on Albert's chest.

“Albert-”

“ Don’t 'Albert' me, mister. I’ve had enough of you pushing aside your problems like they’re trash. Do you think I didn’t notice your face when you saw your mother again? The way you reacted when Diane kissed your cheek? How you stood here for ten minutes without saying a thing as I explained my plan to you?” Albert complained, Dale sighing and looking down in response. “I’m staying, like it or not. End of the story.”

Dale inhaled, then exhaled, his expression emotionless and his eyes tired. "Albert, we're two adults in our thirties-"

"Get yourself a better excuse, you've got better ones than those. Your birthday is in weeks, in case you've forgotten. You're still twenty-nine." Albert interrupted him, crossing his arms. Dale only frowned in response, upset. 

"I think I am capable enough to support myself and recover from what happened to me during the months that have passed with my own means and tools without external help." Dale argued with him, insisting on staying on his own. Albert nodded his head, not wanting to leave Dale alone.

"Oh, so you're going to throw the towel? So soon? You're going to give up on your life just like that?" Albert questioned, raising an eyebrow, disappointed in Dale's attitude.

“Quit pretending I had one outside of the bureau, Albert. You’re talking to a ghost.” Dale’s tone lowered, his voice shaking. He looked down and his frown fell into a pout. Albert’s expression saddened too at the cruelty of Dale’s words, as he blinked and sighed. “Let me die.”

“Dale-”

“Albert, leave.” Dale ordered him, tears pooling in his eyes. “Please.” He opened the door, and Albert stood in the doorframe, his eyes getting glossy too. 

“I’m going to help you. I mean it.” Albert muttered, blinking. He looked down and then back up at Dale, leaving. 

Dale waited for Albert to disappear into the hallway, and when he did, he closed the door shut and fell to the floor, crying. He hid his face in his hands as his shirt dampened from tears. He had been so cruel to Albert, especially now that he left, he wanted him as far from him as he could. He didn’t deserve someone like him.

How could anyone love a ghost? None of these things were a part of him anymore. Dale was haunting himself everywhere he looked. The Tibetan rug, the vinyl collection, the images of a boy that he wasn’t anymore hanging on the wall. He didn’t know how to be him again. 

After sorting through the few things he had retrieved from his office and putting them in his apartment, Dale sighed and decided to take a bath. He removed the curtains and used the bathtub instead, he didn't want to think about curtains right now. 

He hated that the smell of medical alcohol had permeated his skin during his last hospital stay, so using one of his special soaps not only removed the scent but also made him feel good. After all, he promised himself that he was going to start loving himself the way he was and take care of himself more often.

After bathing and putting on his pajamas, he felt something unraveling underneath him and he unbuttoned his navy blue shirt open only to find the bandage over his stomach that came undone. He sighed, sniffin, groaning as his body reminded him that his ribs were broken again, the Black Lodge brought him back the pain in his chest and stomach he had forgotten for so long. 

He crawled to the bathroom, and opened the cabinet to pull the first aid kit from it and grab some medical tape to secure the bandage back in place. He pulled the bandage tight around his waist, whimpering as he did so, and with one finger he pressed on the end so that he could put the tape over it. He waited for some minutes to see if it came undone, but it didn’t. Dale sighed and placed the kit inside the cabinet again, wanting to skip dinner and spend the rest of the evening rotting in bed. 

When he finished, the doorbell rang and he found Albert behind the door with a large suitcase and teary, tired eyes, as well as takeout. Dale couldn’t reject Albert’s offer to stay, so he let him in. They didn’t say a word to each other during dinner.

After dinner with Albert, he brushed his teeth and crawled into his bed, which he missed and longed to get back under his flower patterned sheets. As he got in his bed, he found himself staring at his reflection. Dale walked over to his mirror and touched his face with his fingertips. Was he seeing himself? Was it really him? He didn't remember himself that way. Dale left the mirror and then crawled into his bed and tried to sleep. Albert slept on the couch, as he had all the other times he had spent the night at home. 

Dale dreaded the thought of Albert being there when he had a nightmare, of hurting him by accident. With that distance, it saved crying and talking that he didn't want to have at that moment. 

Albert was already doing a lot by staying with him to help with his recovery, the thought of putting him through more frightened him. Or to make it more simple: the thought of Albert leaving him scared him to death.

Closing his eyes, Dale began to float. The sounds of the house faded into the background and his body relaxed completely…

…Below him, there was a nest, composed of small thin branches. 

The nest was soft, but as he ran his hand along the tips of the branches, a splinter of the branch dug into his hand, drawing a line of blood that spilled down his palm. Dale sat, and looked around with narrowed eyes, the sun was beating down hard at this hour. 

In the distance, there was a screech. A screech that claimed Dale, hungry for Dale. The screech came closer, and a huge owl dug its heels into Dale's arms, pinning him to the base of the nest.

Dale gasped in response, trying to free himself from the claws of the bird above him. The hooting began to twist into a wicked laugh. 

The feathers grew longer, and the texture soon resembled human hair. The owl's beak began to turn into a nose and a mouth full of fangs. The plumage fell to reveal a denim ensemble and Dale was more than surprised by BOB's appearance in his dream. 

BOB squeezed Dale's neck tightly, and put his face close to Dale's, smiling. "Did you think you were free of my torture forever?" BOB asked him, a devilish grin plastered on his face.

Dale was trying to escape, but he felt increasingly sluggish and vulnerable, as if he were in slow motion. BOB was shaking him and throwing himself on top of him, channeling his inner animal. 

Dale yelped from the pain, feeling BOB's claws and fangs bite into his skin. BOB continued to grope Dale, feeling his skin bristle.

"You're such a slut. You enjoy this." BOB purred, savoring how Dale was on the verge of tears, denying the affirmation. 

"You're unable to scare me anymore. I've defeated you." Dale spat, dodging the temptation to cry. "I'm reliving my darkest moments. This isn't real." He repeated that as if it were a mantra, causing BOB to burst out laughing, slamming his body even more violently and forcefully against Dale's, making him break down in tears.

"How come I can't hurt you if I still remain in your memories?" BOB asked him, removing a dental turbine from his pocket to bring it close to his face, the hum of the small drill buzzing in Dale's ears. "Maybe I won't bother you in reality anymore, but I will always, always remain here." He pointed to his head, then Dale’s forehead.

Dale moaned in horror, the drill getting closer and closer to his eyes. 

"Now, be quiet. No one has to know about this or I will find out. Open your mouth." Was the last thing BOB whispered, before the drill made contact with Dale's body.

 He woke up with a start the next morning, but no one had to know that he let his guard down in front of BOB. He was sweating from head to toe, and was shaking intensely. He sighed and closed his eyes shut.

He got out of bed to undress himself in front of the mirror, trying to find any traces of BOB, but to no avail.

 He was still in the same old body. Lanky build, milky white skin, barely any hair on his chest but his armpits and legs made up for it, a small scar on his stomach, two pink scars at the end of his pectorals and of course, the scar from the stabbing, close to his heart. Dale forgot what it looked like because he'd always listen-

"Caroline!" More screaming. Vision turning black. Blood poured everywhere he looked. Caroline lying dead in his arms.

Dale closed his eyes shut, pretending he didn't listen to any of that. He sighed and put on his pajamas again, staring at himself again to see any change, expecting someone else to be there. His old self, to say a lot. Nothing stared back at him. 

BOB himself told him to keep quiet or he would do something horrible to him, even worse, somebody Dale loved. Again.

He walked into the hallway and no one was there. There was a small note on the table in Albert's absence, a note with good intentions telling him he would be back in three weeks because he was in Philadelphia solving a case and that asked him to please not burn the house down in an attempt to make breakfast for himself. Dale burst into tears. 

The nightmare felt real, as if he had actually lived it. Memories of his childhood and his visits to the dentist echoed in his head like a cave, much like his home. He still felt the knives in his chest and the dentist's drill.

He tried to make himself breakfast, but he was so disgusted by what he had been through that he threw it all up, and cleaned the bathroom so as not to leave any traces of the vomit. 

He called Diane, trying to find someone to talk to without mentioning what happened, not even implicating what was going on in his head. "Is Diane Evans there?" 

"She isn't, but you can leave a message!" Her bubbly secretary told him. Dale sighed. 

"It's alright. I'll call her later." He hung up and pouted. He didn't have the gut to talk to Albert, and didn't even consider talking to Denise, though she must've been busy.

He tried to sleep his thoughts off, but to no avail. When Albert called him at night to check on him, he put on his strongest face and pretended it had been a great day. It hurt him to lie to Albert, but he didn’t want to put him in danger. Albert raised an eyebrow at the forced smile but brushed it off.

BOB couldn't physically hurt him anymore, but what evidence did he have that proved that? He couldn't tell Albert because if he were to lose Albert by opening his mouth, his life would become meaningless. He couldn't watch someone he loves die. Not again.

He loved Albert and if telling him the truth meant watching him die, he would rather let the pain consume him than lose Albert. He was so terrified of being left alone after it all. Or losing Diane. After all, he heard her voice screaming for help in the Lodge. In another universe, BOB got Diane under the skin of his doppelganger, and did things to her that Dale could never forgive himself for.

 Dale then unplugged his phone. He decided to do something to clear his mind. To live a little. 

He remembered his old drawings from when he was in college. He went to his small studio and opened one of the wooden drawers of an old piece of furniture that used to belong to his grandmother. Small notebooks with velvet covers lay on top of books and drawing materials he hadn't used in years. Let's see if he could be proud of himself again.

 Dale grabbed a notebook and started to doodle, trying to free his mind a little. He started to draw small flowers. Simple to draw yet sweet, the imperfect flower didn't exist. He looked at the bouquets and smiled a little, they looked good. It had been years and they looked more than decent.

 He admired the texture the graphite of the pencil left as he drove it across the page, as the petals evolved into leaves, the leaves turning into zigzags, as he lost control of his hand, he closed his eyes and lost himself.

 He was floating in a black void, in peace. Dale smiled to himself, putting his hands on his chest. Peace at last, he'd thought. That was until a soft body clashed with his, their shoulders rubbing softly. 

He turned around only to meet himself, who was frightened and shaking his shoulders. "Wake up!" He screamed, feeling Dale's bones rattle underneath his grasp.

Dale furrowed his brows and held his own shoulders, staring at himself. "Where am I?" He asked, and then he looked at a young girl with long, raven curls staring back at him. Dale gasped. 

"You've got to wake up! We're trapped!" She screamed, and when Dale blinked again, he was an old man in his sixties.

"How?" Dale asked him.

"You're detached from the world." He told Dale, making Dale shake his head and close his eyes. “You have to come back to yourself.” Now, he was sitting on a couch, with a big screen above him. He was seeing himself drawing, almost robotically and expressionless. 

 Dale observed the situation in horror, knowing he was powerless to stop it. He then saw how he walked to the bathroom mirror and saw his doppelganger staring back at him, smiling, eventually collapsing to the ground, his vision turning black. 

And so it was that under BOB’s management, he began to sleep less, his dark circles under his eyes getting bigger.

 He ate less, BOB made him sick and throw up everything he ate, making him lose weight in an exaggerated way, his fast metabolism didn't help either, his arms became twigs and his skin turned pale in a short amount of time. BOB would let Dale come back to his body only to see a reflection that wasn't his, deformed, sick and twisted and it would drive him to sobbing.  

Sometimes he would be under fat rolls and folds of skin that he never had his angular face replaced with round, puffy cheeks, or he’d see all of his bones trying to break from his skin, his eyes looking like they were about to pop out of his skin. Body horror at its finest. BOB loved showing him reflections of himself that weren’t true so that Dale wouldn’t notice how BOB was changing his body in reality.

His ribs and chest still hurt, and Dale sometimes cried himself to sleep in an effort to rest, when BOB wasn’t looking around. But every time he was caught, he felt those hands on his body again and again.

Back in his dreams, Dale was now in a van with an intense smell of incense, curtains of multicolored beads fell over his eyes. Once he pulled back those curtains, BOB appeared as a hippie, smelling a daisy that then rotted in his hand. 

"I see you really took my warning to heart." BOB said seductively, approaching Dale. He sniffed his arms and then brushed his hair, which was getting longer and longer. He held his arm, licking his skin. "You look beautiful now."

Dale pushed him away, annoyed by BOB's comment. "I don't even know why I'm letting some distant memory tell me what to do and treat me like his puppet."

"Oh, you know perfectly well." BOB licked Dale's hand, receiving a grimace of disgust from him. "You really doubt my inability to hurt you physically in the real world, and you know that if I could, and if you'd tell this to your dearest Albert... I'd kill him! I can’t get little Laura Palmer in my hands either, but don’t think my treatment is exclusive to you. You failed."

"You can't hurt me anymore. The evidence for that exists. You're just a nightmare trying to kill me. I won't let that happen!" Dale yelled at him, walking away and standing behind a large magenta lava lamp. "You can't hurt Albert!"

"But I'm not hurting him. You are . You're a terrible person! You're lying to him about this. Keep it up, and not only will Albert leave you, but you'll die, and you'll be just like me!" BOB shrieked, pulling his face close to Dale's and kissing him intensely, leaving teeth marks on his lower lip.

Dale pushed him again, but BOB squeezed him tightly in his arms to keep him from escaping, then hit him and kissed him again. 

"Now, Dale... Don't forget to do your homework. Or else I'll fail you." BOB joked, as his laughter melted around the flames eating at the hippie van, the incense fading from the atmosphere. "I want to see you again."

Somehow, when Albert came back, BOB left. The first thing Albert said to Dale was: "Coop, I’ve noticed lately that you've decided to speak the language of silence and haven't addressed a single word to me since I came back here. Fuck , since I left. Your parents are worried, Diane has been hysterical… What the hell happened?"

Dale sniffled, and nodded in response, looking at the floor. Albert brushed back his growing mop of hair and grimaced, which quickly disappeared when he saw the weariness in Dale's eyes.

"Is it the medicine? Have you been having nightmares and not telling me?" Albert would ask, holding his slender hands in his. "You haven't been eating either. You're a bundie."

"Albert, maybe you shouldn't blame the medicine and my dreams for my condition." Dale whispered, avoiding looking at Albert. "Blame me for not taking the medicine."

"Why the hell don't you take it?" Albert asked him, annoyed. Dale shrugged and shook his head.

“I forget. I haven’t been myself lately and I’d like to apologize for it. The events of the last month have taken a toll on my mental health and I’m still trying to process it. Do I have to explain it to you any further?” Dale asked him, followed by a sniffle. He was half lying, and hoped Albert didn't catch it.

“Hey. Look at me, Coop.” Albert ordered him, putting his hand on his cheek, Dale’s hazel eyes meeting Albert’s almond eyes. “I'm not doing this because it's my job, I'm doing this because like it or not, you matter to me. You aren’t talking for some reason, but you trust me well enough to tell me what’s going on inside that mind of yours. You’re drowning and I’m here to pull you out of the water, because you don’t deserve to go through this and your recovery is fundamental to me.” And Albert was right, like always. 

He feels like he's drowning, falling deeper and deeper into the darkness, hoping to see the light above him waiting to reach him and wrap him in a warm embrace. The light is there for him though, and in the form of a cynical agent by his side, helping him to heal to enjoy the life he always wanted to have.

Dale smiled a little, feeling tears gathering in his eyes. "Thank you, Albert." Oh, Albert. Always so kind and thoughtful despite his vocabulary. Dale didn't know how to repay him after all he's doing for him.

"Don't mention it." Albert hugged him, and Dale's smile grew even bigger, feeling safe in Albert's arms, away from any pain and any torture from BOB.

BOB would, when he could, make an odd gesture with Dale's body that was enough evidence for Albert to hold Dale's hand for a while, mistaking the possession for a panic attack or distract him with some of his vinyl records playing in the background. Dale sometimes spent more time trapped in his mind than in the real world with Albert, between versions of himself, the past and future in one single place.

Over the next few days, Dale started taking his medicine, and he didn't have as many nightmares as before, and he was eating again without feeling nauseous. 

Unfortunately, his cheeks and stomach were still swollen from constant vomiting. It was very noticeable in contrast to how thin and small his body had become. 

Sometimes, but not often, he would fall asleep on the couch watching some rerun of a romantic movie, and Albert would stroke his head or wish him sweet dreams, something he enjoyed and looked forward to doing the same to Albert when he had the chance (and something he didn't know if Albert noticed he remembers it). How he loved to be touched this way.

BOB stopped showing up for a while when one day, Dale decided to do something to deal with his identity crisis. He tried drawing again, but this time he drew Albert, and he was in total control of his body. He smiled when he could see the finished product without interruption. And so it went on.

The nightmares unfortunately persisted, attempting to frighten Dale with BOB tearing his face from his body, putting it on and killing people. These violent images were followed by BOB swearing to Dale that he would turn into him. Dale found that his days however, kept flowing the right way even after having these nightmares. At no time did he ever feel trapped in his mind again.

Sometimes he was even able to be in total control of his body when he was alone, as he learned how to fix holes in T-shirts he used to love and how to make omelets with cheese. He slowly felt like he was human again and the feeling was amazing. 

He rediscovered traits of himself that he had forgotten he loved, and discovered new ones. Since when did the tips of his ears turn red when he smiled? The tip of his nose always twitched slightly when he talked? Did his hair look that good without gel? 

He was back to experimenting like he did as a teenager, and had never felt so comfortable in black latex harnesses strapped to his chest or ever thought eyeliner looked so good on his eyes. He was reaching levels of joy and peace with himself he'd never thought he'd reach. Dale was becoming more and more in awe of himself, as if he was rediscovering himself all over again.

Part of what made him slowly find himself, or be himself again, was all thanks to Albert. And Dale started to notice things about Albert that maybe he hadn't paid much attention to before, like how long his lashes were, or the dimples in his cheeks. Maybe he was falling for Albert again. Maybe he was the one. And he's lucky Albert wasn't home when he would lie on the couch and day dream about the two of them together, blushing and smiling to himself.

He was becoming a whole new different man, different from the FBI Agent people either wanted to marry or to kill, he was finally becoming himself. 

One night, after Albert came home from work a wreck and they had shared a mood-enhancing dinner, they decided to indulge themselves and had bits from a can of beer sitting in the fridge. They were now in the living room, both on the verge of falling asleep, with Dale sitting cross-legged on the sofa and Albert curled up in a ball on the couch in front of Dale. Dale smiled a little as he saw Albert's figure on the couch.

"Don't laugh, Coop." Albert grumbled, rubbing his eyes and frowning as he got to look at him. "I'm more than aware that my back will be like an accordion if I spend the night here on this couch."

“Right.” Dale chuckled, rubbing his own eyes too.

“If it were for you, you’d sleep here and in the morning, your first words would be something along the lines of: ‘Albert it appears that my back aches after I stole a goose’s golden egg.’ Am I wrong?” Albert imitated Dale, making him giggle at how accurate yet inaccurate his imitation of him was. “I don’t know, I didn’t study acting at Oxford. I’m made of wood.”

“I can see.” Dale added, making Albert chuckle and roll his eyes. 

"I'm so glad we're on the same page. Can you put on some music?" Albert suggested. Dale got up and walked over to the library where they had vinyls, singles, cassettes and cds of various genres carefully organized by alphabetic order and pulled out a David Sylvian vinyl.

Albert frowned, as he looked at the vinyl. "You really want us to sleep, don't you?" Albert grumbled, rubbing his eyes. 

Dale blinked and smiled a little. "I've been wanting to listen to my favorite song with you again. It's been years and…" Dale stopped in his tracks and looked down at the floor, blinking. "May I ask if we could lay down on the floor and let us be consumed by the beautiful mystery that is this vinyl as we enjoy what is left of the night?" 

 Albert sighed, and grabbed the second record inside the ambient pop and put it in the vinyl player. He couldn't say no knowing what it meant for Dale, especially the last time they heard it together. He remembers Dale crying over a love that never was in Albert's arms, as his sobbing subsided and he fell asleep, forever grateful Albert had been there.

 He arranged the pick so it was in the middle of the vinyl and they lay on the floor, a melancholy but beautiful melody making the living room disappear, letting the stars and moonlight envelop the room, the dark blue shadows painting their skins and Dale could see the moon in Albert's eyes. It was silver and it shone against Dale’s face. A beautiful sight to see.

Dale sighed and smiled from ear to ear, looking up at Albert. Albert turned his head to look at Dale and swore he saw a million little stars in his eyes. Albert laughed at the idiocy of seeing a galaxy in Dale's eyes, but at that moment, it was the closest he would ever get to space and wanted to enjoy it.

"What?" Dale asked him, furrowing his eyebrows but not diminishing his smile.

“Are we in space?”

“And you’re complaining?” Dale asked him playfully. “Albert, I’m surprised.”

Albert chuckled, and shook his head softly. “Damn this music.” He sighed, staring at all the little planets above him. "You're right, it's been too long." 

Dale nodded, intertwining his fingers with Albert's, as his fingertips had brushed his. Dale blinked and sighed, the music taking them deeper into the galaxy. They were now two stars in clouds of different shades of blue, floating in the dark sky, alone. 

Dale wouldn't have wanted it any other way. It's everything he ever wanted.

"Dale?"

"Yes, Albert?"

"I know." Albert whispered with a tiny smile, gazing at Dale. Dale's heart stopped as he looked at Albert with wide, worried eyes. 

Dale gulped and blinked, the clouds disappearing around them. "I was looking forward to the perfect moment to open up to you." Dale mumbled, looking down.

There was a short silence, and Albert was being wrapped in a white, almost angelic aura. "You wanted to be anywhere else?" And Dale knew he had finally made it.

Dale's eyes were shining bright out of pure emotion, and sighed, smiling widely as he shifted to hug Albert, being consumed by the light and then falling into the darkness. He was floating in peace at last. 

Everything seemed to change for the better until one day, after taking a bath, Dale looked at his reflection in the mirror and cried out in horror at the sight of his face. His hair was now down to his shoulders, he couldn't remember the last time he had shaved and he hadn't trimmed his nails either. Why didn’t he notice this before?

And that's when he realized that BOB was right. He had become BOB, physically speaking. 

Dale felt shivers down his spine, and decided to crawl back into his bed. A haircut and a shave would fix this.

It was painful to walk back from the bathroom to his room. His screams pleading for help could be heard down the hallways, and Dale closed his eyes, thinking he would stop hearing them. 

He covered himself with his sheets and blankets, and closed his eyes, trying to count sheep. 

Dale then woke up in a house, and Caroline was standing in front of him, worried, in a hurry. She was walking in and out of the living room, with a black coat in her hands. Dale saw a picture of him and Caroline, smiling. A photo that didn't exist, it looked like a collage of older photos of the two of them, since he never had the chance to take a photo with her.

Caroline sighed, and crossed her arms, standing in front of Dale. "Are you even listening to me?" She asked, impatient.

Dale frowned. "What do you mean by it, Caroline?" He asked. "I may have missed-" 

She huffed and rolled her eyes, throwing her arms to the sides. "You always miss everything. You miss something that you never and will never have." She told him in a tone completely different from the one Caroline used to speak in.

Dale then saw a baby in his arms, who giggled and smiled at him. "What's this?" Caroline only groaned in response and stomped.

"Jesus, Dale! Always forgetting things! She's going to starve if you don't feed her!" Caroline complained, making Dale stand up and take a few steps back, shaking his head no. 

"I can't feed her Caroline, you know that." Dale replied to her, staring at the squealing baby once again. "Perhaps if-" 

"You're incredible! Always making excuses for the things you've hidden!" Caroline yelled, snatching the baby from Dale's arms, as she started to cry. Dale shook his head, shedding a few tears. Whatever reality or jail he was stuck in, he wasn't sure if he could stand it any longer.

"Caroline, please." Dale pleaded, his wife huffing and trying to calm down their child. He saw a collection of records sitting by a table on the left of the couch, and picked a random one, hidden between vinyls, speaking to Caroline. "I apologize for my lack of understanding in this situation, I'm just at a loss of words of what to do. I shouldn't be here." 

Caroline rolled her eyes once more, watching how Dale put the record on. "You're a faulty man, Dale Cooper. Look at how evil consumed you." Her words were like acid, biting at his skin, his bones and joints disintegrating by it. It wasn’t Caroline, yet the way this new reality worded her to make her sound angry made Dale wish he hadn’t met her in the first place, again.

The music started to play. Dale turned around to look at the spinning record. A familiar melody. A composition that sounded like hope. Angels floating. Tears filling the room. A bond and connection that transcended universes. He remembered standing by Laura’s side, with a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Her guardian angel.

He turned around only to find himself, with bones poking out of his skin and long black hair, naked on the floor, curled up. Caroline and his inexistent daughter were nowhere to be seen. He had to come back. He shook his shoulder and before he turned his head to look at him, he felt a chill going down his spine and opened his eyes. 

When he woke up, a blue light filled the room and he felt himself lose all the security he thought he had under the covers. BOB pulled the sheets and bedspread off Dale's bed, and kissed him, biting his neck and then holding his face with his hand.

BOB smiled, showing his fangs stained with Dale's blood and pressing hard against his legs. "I told you you'd be like me." He purred, pawing Dale by his stomach and legs as he moaned. "Still think you're the victim?"

Dale closed his eyes from the pain, moaning and groaning, and shook his head softly. "No." He whispered.

BOB laughed, and pulled Dale's t-shirt off his body, and began kissing his scarred chest, making him squirm from the pain and humiliation. 

"Don't cry yet, my little monster boy. This isn't over yet." BOB whispered, then to hold Dale's face.

"I'm not crying." Dale answered him, extremely vulnerable. 

"Not yet." BOB clarified, tracing circles with his fingers on Dale's back. 

"I didn't tell anyone about us." Dale said between small moans of pain, his eyes glistening with tears.

"Excellent. You're making great progress." BOB brushed the lanugo growing on Dale's body, then kissed him back only to break their kiss. "I regret to inform you that this is the last time we will see each other." 

And when he finished speaking, Dale jumped on BOB, and began to choke him, his tears falling on BOB's face. 

"Go away! I won't let you hurt me ever again!" Dale screamed, as BOB laughed disconsolately. 

"You deserve the pain! You wouldn't be here if you hadn't hurt others! If you hadn't hurt Albert!" BOB shrieked.

"That's a lie!" He yelled back.

"You're a terrible, selfish brat, Dale Cooper. You're always too late." BOB purred.

“No-”

“You were born too late, she was already dead when she wished for your help. You were already dead when you wished for a true friend. Can’t you see it?”

“I understand! Leave us alone!” Dale pleaded, as BOB shoved his fingers inside of Dale, making him tremble and scream. “Please!”

“When I kill you, I’ll get Laura Palmer next. You can’t save her anymore.” BOB whispered to him, making his hand out of Dale and kissing him, as Dale succumbed to the pain and cried, thinking it was going to make it stop.

"Please leave me alone." Dale pleaded, his voice no higher than a whisper, choking on his tears. "Please. I'm a good man." 

"That should be engraved on your gravestone." BOB whispered in his ear, biting his earlobe. Dale grimaced, making BOB press him harder against the wooden floor and kiss him, sealing his mark. When he broke the kiss, BOB smiled. "You've been nothing but a perfect host these past few weeks. A real pain in the ass too, you couldn't let me have any fun. Luckily, all that didn't happen to your friends: it happened to you." 

Dale cried, before BOB could kiss him again and couldn't hold his eyelids anymore. His body went limp afterwards, floating in the darkness once more. He heard BOB before he woke up. He had whispered: "Who will you see in the mirror, but not yourself?"

BOB shoved Dale back to the bed by pushing him from his chest and then removed a knife, causing Dale to freeze in horror, staring at Windom Earle's reflection in the metal of the knife. 

"I won't say goodbye without killing you first, my dear Dale. Say hello to Caroline for me." BOB said to Dale in Windom's voice, and began stabbing him in the chest, hearing Caroline scream in the background, and then his own screams.

"Caroline!"

Dale woke up with a jolt, and he was sick of it all. He was sick of the dreams, sick of the raping, how BOB made his traumas and experiences worse by showing up in his memories. 

But it was too late to tell Albert about it. The damage had been done. 

Now Dale had become his abuser, and he had to die. He didn't want to be like BOB, that was one of his worst nightmares. He turned back towards the bathroom, echoes of past nightmares echoing in the hallways, and looked in the mirror. 

He saw only BOB's reflection, and Dale began to cry softly. 

He was horrified at his new appearance, he was a monster now. A monster who didn't deserve to be loved. Someone who'd let his guard down and failed. Again.

And when he thought things couldn’t get worse, the phone rang. He picked up the call and heard a familiar voice. "Dale, do you need me to help you?" It was his mother, and his eyes immediately watered when he heard her voice. 

Dale shook his head, clearing his throat. "Mother."

"I've dreamed the same thing you have. You haven't been free of him at all." She reminded him. "You have distracted him, but he saw you yesterday when you were with Albert." Dale's heart sank at the last part.

"Mother, don't do this. Please." Dale pleaded, his voice thin but growing louder with frustration. "I've already lost you once to that monster. I don't want to go through that again."

"Then for how long will you let him hurt you? Until your mind is scattered somewhere in a dark corner of the universe?" She asked him, her voice sad but serious.

"I don't know how!" Dale cried, wiping his eyes. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I thought I had fixed it all in the last months… But I haven't got a clue on how to get rid of him for eternity." 

The line went dangerously silent and Dale's eyes rolled back. He saw himself through a big screen, and saw how he hung up the phone, then unplugged it. He walked to the mirror and saw how BOB was using his face to smile at him. 

"Time's running out, little boy." BOB whispered with Dale's face. Dale blinked and he was back in his body.

He went back to his room and started dialing Diane's phone. He had to say goodbye to her and everyone he loved, they didn't deserve someone like him.

"Hello?" Diane's secretary asked Dale.

"Hi. This is Dale Cooper. I wanted to know if Diane Evans is around." 

"She's busy, but you can leave a message." The secretary carelessly told him. She must've had a new secretary.

Dale sniffled, and nodded. "I'd appreciate it very much if you'd turn a deaf ear. It's personal and I'd be humiliated if anyone else knew about it." 

"...As you say." She replied to Dale in a disinterested manner, as Dale cleared his throat.

Dale inhaled deeply, then exhaled and sighed. "Diane, you are surely busy solving some extremely interesting cases, and that makes me very proud of you. You deserve to rise higher and higher in that position because you are a phenomenal woman and I admire you so much, Diane." Dale began, letting a couple of tears fall. "You're funny, you're strong, you're brave... Sometimes I'm sorry you had to go through such things in your life like sexism in the workplace before you got where you are today, and I wish I could have done more to lift your spirits when you felt blue about it. You are very beautiful and sweet and I have questioned myself in several instances what I have done to deserve someone like you. You have been one of three of my closest friends, the ones who really saw me for who I really was and who have shown me that I am not the monster I think I am. You have helped so much and I will never, ever forget what you have done for me. Having someone listen to my rambling, ranting… Having someone who'll listen to what I feel and I have to say…" Dale stopped to sniff, and then cleared his throat. His voice breaking. "Is something that I've been granted very little in my short life. I shouldn’t have used you as a therapist as much as I did instead of being honest with my therapist. I’m sorry. Don't blame yourself for this, because I promise you that you have done nothing wrong. I want you to grow up, show everyone who's the boss, and always make yourself an excellent cup of coffee like I would have liked to have had. I love you, Diane. Goodbye." 

Dale heard snoring on the other line, and cleared his throat loudly, waking the secretary. 

"Would you like to leave that message?" She asked him, alert. 

"Please. Tell her to listen to it right away as soon as she gets back." Dale asked the secretary. Once she saved the message, he cut the call short and went into the living room to tear a sheet of paper from his notepad.

He grabbed a pen, and began to write a letter to Albert, all the while crying inconsolably. Tears blurred his handwriting, ink spilling over the sides of the letters. 

When he finished the letter, Dale read it. It read as follows: 

Dear Albert: 

The last few years have been some of the most beautiful in my life.

 Meeting you was an honor, and sometimes you think you are a hard person to love because of your attitude. You are surprised that I still put up with you despite your cynical and bitter personality. I have never seen you like that and I wouldn't expect you to be anything less than what you are.

You are an admirable man, I could never do what you do without throwing up or fainting first. 

The world needs more people like you. Your heart is pure and kind, and you really follow your ideals. You say things like they are, without watering them down or cherry picking information, you go straight to the point. 

Regret is a word I'd use to describe the way I behaved towards you when you attempted to show me the dark surface of Twin Peaks. Now I understand what you meant by it. I wished I had seen the truth earlier. Or way before Twin Peaks. Words that I've said, letters I've written, things I've done. Too many regrets. You deserved a better friend.

Good is not a word anyone should use to describe me. If anything, it suits you more.

There's something I don't know if you knew, Albert. But your name has the most beautiful meaning in the world. I was reading about it the other day and forgot to tell you. 

Albert means "bright," and Rosenfield means "field of roses." Your name means "bright field of roses," Albert. Isn't that beautiful?

 Roses are a symbol of love, and I don't think there has ever been a human being as loving and as committed to spreading love around the world as you, Albert. Or a name more fitting for you.

I love you, Albert. I don't think I can find all the right words to express myself the way I want to express myself about you, but every time I see you, I feel safe and loved. I look the way I look and do the things I do to avoid a terrible fate for you. The possibility of you dying in BOB's arms.

I protected you by doing this. I did what I couldn't do for Caroline. Though I must admit that I let my guard down by letting BOB do terrible things to me in my nightmares. They felt too real, Albert. Pawing, biting, licking, torturing, no traces were found every time I woke up but his presence had been there.

 They weren't those types of nightmares where you can easily figure out that they're not real. He picked my darkest moments and inserted himself in them. Including that night in Pittsburgh. He replaced doctors, hippies, even Windom Earle, and inserted himself in them.

 A disturbing sight to many, but for me, it seemed like watching a gateway to hell opening upon my eyes.

 My mother already died twenty years ago trying to protect me as a helpless, sickly ten year old who was just learning how the world worked, and I didn't want you to pay that price. And now, because of me, she’s back. But the print her death left in my mind can’t be erased like her death was from this world. 

Evil never dies. I couldn't let BOB hurt you, or Diane. Not even my friends back there in Twin Peaks.

 Thank you for everything you have done for me, from the day we met until last night. I want you to stay true to your word and keep loving people, doing everything you do for love. It was my choice, and never blame yourself for it, please. You did nothing wrong, you just tried to help. You tried to help a shell of a broken man.

I love you, Agent Rosenfield.

Farewell, 

Coop. x

It took Dale hours to write that letter, and when he finished it, he sighed and went outside to buy a rose for Albert.

When he returned, it was already evening, the sky was dark and the moon was up, and he was deeply grateful that no one made any comment on his appearance. He left a white rose on the table next to the letter, and headed for the bathroom.

Shouting in the hallways told him not to, not to do what he was about to do, that he didn't deserve that, but he heard again that animalistic laughter that was so characteristic of BOB as he stood in front of the bathroom mirror.

Dale opened the bathroom mirror compartment, finding a bag of razor blades. He removed one from the bag and closed the mirror, only to find BOB standing behind him, smiling.

"It's already done. You're too late." BOB growled with a devilish smile. Dale whimpered, staring at BOB’s reflection in the blade.

"Dale?" Albert asked him from the hallway, making Dale shiver. Dale jumped and started to cry and scream loudly, dropping the blade. He attempted to close the bathroom door. He choked on his tears, BOB pressing his thumbs against his neck, a sight invisible to Albert, who was trying to hold Dale’s shoulder. 

Dale's eyes turned pitch black, and when he managed to open the door of the bathroom, before losing his humanity to BOB, he mumbled his last words to Albert: "Please forgive me."

The bathroom turned into his cage, his body now locked inside it. Dale stopped crying and his face turned into stone, walking over to the bathtub and turning on the water. Albert's loud thuds and warnings didn't stop him. Dale put on the plug and when the bathtub was almost filled, Dale submerged himself in it, letting the water clog his nostrils, falling into the dark…

…and into the old hallway of his house. Dale heard choked crying from his bedroom. He opened the door to find a little girl crying. Vaporub sat on her nightstand, and her starry comforter was drenched in sweat. Dale walked over to her and brushed her feverish forehead, and was met with a pair of scared, hazel eyes.

Dale turned his head to the window, unable to face her. But the sight on the window wasn't a better choice. He was seeing BOB drown him in his own bathroom, while Albert attempted to get through the door, his muffled screaming coming from behind the door.

Dale heard loud banging coming from the door, and the girl began to cry, almost choked cries. He remembered this. The first time BOB had tried to possess him. Dale sighed and had no choice but to look her in the eyes. The girl sniffled, rubbing her eyes.

"I'm so scared." She sobbed, covering her face with her small hands. Dale nodded his head and put his hand on her knee.

"Afraid of what?" 

"Of becoming like him." She answered him, swallowing hard. Dale turned his head and watched as her body lay deep in her tub, completely motionless. “I don’t want him here. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

Dale didn't know how to answer her. The banging was getting louder and louder behind the door. BOB began to laugh, as the room began to engulf in flames, causing the girl to shriek and Dale to become alarmed that BOB was about to burst through the door to his room. In the real world, Albert was trying to unlock the door with keys and cards of any kind, silently crying.

"Dale, open the door!" Albert shouted, trying to unlock the door with a crowbar, but to no avail. He couldn't pull the door down with his own weight either. He was running out of time.

They were both running out of time. Dale realized that he only learned to love part of himself, that he had not yet faced his worst fears, nor accepted his shortcomings. His eyes filled with tears as he watched the girl cry. He hugged her tightly and put his chin on the top of her head. 

"I'm so sorry." Dale murmured. "You deserved so much better."

“I just want to feel better.” The girl croaked, coughing. Dale remembers how worried he would get when he got sick, how close to death he felt every time he was bedridden. Dale then remembered the vaporub on the nightstand, and carefully removed her shirt, as he rubbed the green gel over her chest. The girl inhaled, and exhaled, as her breathing evened. 

“Thank you.” She squeaked, as Dale nodded, the heat of the fire catching up to him, the sensation of BOB’s nails clawing on the doorframe. Dale gulped and shed a few tears, he was staring at his own past, and he was letting himself lose against BOB.

“You’re welcome.” Dale muttered, blinking a tear. The little girl frowned and sniffled.

“Why are you sad?” She asked him, wiping her cheeks. Dale coughed and cried, as he covered his face with his hands, the fire starting to burn the bed. 

“You’re me. A-and I can’t come into terms with my mistakes, I can’t come into- I lost against him.” Dale stuttered, failing to tell her what was happening around them. “I ignored what was actually killing me on the inside and I let him hurt me.”

The girl gasped at the revelation, her eyes growing wide at the adult in front of her. She put her hand on Dale’s cheeks and whispered: “I’m going to get better?”

He felt his heart shatter at that question alone, and he hugged the girl tightly, his tears falling on her head, sobbing loudly. The fire began to burn the sheets, and Dale began to lose oxygen, coughing more and more sharply. The water filling his lungs, Albert still failing to open the door, still not giving up.

But Dale remembered her question. Am I going to get better? He was right. He did get better. Dale was able to get BOB away from him for a while, he refused to become BOB. Dale refused to become a BOB puppet on multiple occasions, beyond that in the last few hours, he failed pathetically. Dale had to face his fears and accept the fact that he too can do evil and that he’s imperfect. He had been imperfect, but with that question alone, he realized his imperfection and lack of acceptance of the fact that BOB was still after him and took him to the solution that might save him. 

He accepted that all his decisions and mistakes took him here, and decided to take the responsibility for it. He could finally save himself. He would never be like BOB, and so he smiled at the girl and nodded his head, brushing back her black bangs. "It's going to be alright. I'm here to take care of you."

BOB started screaming, as the fire was put out by water. Dale furrowed his eyebrows and looked toward the window, his body underwater coughing and trying to get back to the surface. He was regaining his autonomy. 

The girl sniffed and hugged him tightly. Dale pulled her inside his bed and held her hand, brushing gently. He got up and saw how BOB’s burned fingers were scratching the door. Dale grabbed the door handle and closed the door harshly, listening to BOB’s fingers crack, as he managed to close the door, not a soul in sight. He wasn’t going to let him hurt her. He walked over to the bed again, and saw the girl lying on the bed, almost falling asleep. 

Dale smiled and kissed her forehead, as he crawled over to the bed and hugged her. “Goodnight. I love you.” He whispered to himself.

Dale started coughing, trying to get out the water that had clogged his throat. His body was all pink from the heat of the water and his damp hair covered his view. Dale climbed out of the tub and coughed the water out in large quantities, feeling BOB's hands on his neck. 

"You're not getting out of this alive!" BOB shrieked. Dale couldn't distinguish between his tears and the drops of water falling on his forehead, he then made Dale grab the razor blade he had left earlier. "This is it." BOB whispered, as Dale watched the razor between his thumb and forefinger.

 BOB giggled, rubbing his hands together as Dale sniffled, putting the tip of the razor into his wrist, he traced it gently, letting out a cry of pain at the sight of the little red line. Dale screamed, dropping the razor to the floor, feeling the demon trying to take control over his body. He clawed at his face to get him off of him, drawing angry red spots on his face, but BOB pulled him down to the floor to then punch him hard in his face, painting part of his lower face red. 

"Albert, help!" Cooper cried out disconsolately, feeling Albert unlock the doorknob as fast as he could. Dale was back in his old room. BOB was approaching the cabinet and removing the mouthwash. He looked at BOB's reflection in the bathroom mirror from his window, watching as BOB opened the mouthwash and drank it.

 "You have become what you swore to destroy." BOB growled. Dale heard the door creak from behind him and saw that it was slightly opened. He turned his head to look at the sleeping girl and stood up. He finally had enough.

He went through the door and grabbed BOB’s jean collar, piercing his soul with his eyes. "I did, and I'll make sure whatever I broke is repaired with everything I learned, acknowledging its flaws. I’ll never be you." And Dale punched BOB, proving to him that he changed and fought with his own set of rules against his game. "You'll never have me."

Dale started choking on the liquid, and then felt two fingers go down his throat harshly. He vomited all the blue liquid into the toilet, and when he could breathe again, Albert was on top of him, holding his naked body next to the toilet. His face was exhausted and stained with tears. Dale sighed and blinked, then shrieked from the horror and humiliation that Albert found him hurting. 

"Wait." Albert opened the bathroom cabinet and quickly removed some disinfectant, cotton and a bandage for Dale's wrist.

Albert sat with Dale on the floor, and looked him in the eye, trying to help him. Dale, looking for support, looked him in the eyes in response.

"Show me your cut already." Albert ordered him, as Dale removed his hand over his cut. Albert sighed and put pressure on it, making Dale moan.

"Sorry-" 

"Save it, Coop. There will be time for that. Now I want you to calm down and listen to me. It's a thin cut and not deep at all, you should be thankful I'm not taking you to the hospital." Albert interrupted him, removing his hand to then disinfect the infamous red line. Dale cried silently as Albert cleaned his wound.

"My god. First of all, drowning, then an attempt at self mutilation followed by choking on mouthwash. You're lucky I found you before you took this to the extreme." Albert grumbled. And he was right again. Then he put a clean white bandage which he tied tightly around Dale's wrist. 

Dale could tell Albert was definitely upset because he had been lying to him, and because he definitely heard what he had told Diane earlier today.

When he finished, Dale fled to his bed, followed by Albert, who sat across from him. Dale didn't dare look Albert in the eye. 

"What the fuck happened, Coop?" Albert asked him, annoyed. "I read your ballad and smelled the rose. You know Diane made me listen to that voice mail too? You know how tired I am of your attempts of being a hero with your white knighting?" 

Dale nodded his head, pouting. 

"Why, Coop? Why the hell are you doing this?" Albert asked again, feeling tears making his eyes glisten at the sight of Dale's suicide attempt.

Dale tried to say something, but just burst into tears, dropping an absurd amount of tears per second. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, as he softly rocked himself back and forth. Albert had never seen him see Dale cry so hard before. Not even when Caroline died.

"It wasn't a decision I should have made, but I had to make it." Dale blubbered, as he hid his face from Albert. "I let him hurt me, Albert. To protect you."

"I know." And ever if after reading the letter he knew, Albert still couldn't believe it.

"Albert. The reason I am now a hideous monster is because of BOB." Cooper stopped him, staring at him in the eye. "He'd rape me in my dreams when he had the chance, and forced me to remain silent or else he was going to hurt you. Evil can never really leave, Albert. I can never be too sure about it." Dale sniffled, then looked away. "My mother died after I told her BOB tried to get through the door in my dream. She died protecting me, Albert. I can't risk losing you. I'm tired of seeing my loved ones die. These dreams were too real a-and I wasn't going to take the risk to tell this to you, because this already happened to me when I was a child." 

Albert furrowed his brows, as Dale clinged tighter onto his shoulders.

"I love you, Albert. You make my days brighter when you're around, you're like a warm hug to the soul after what seemed to be a long and eternal winter. I value everything you've done for me and I still fail to comprehend why you're still trying to help after everything, you're too good to me. I'll never be the man you deserve in your life." Dale sobbed. "And if I lost you… I… I didn't know what I was going to do. I wrote the letter taking in consideration the possibility of a scenario where it was too late for the both of us."

Albert blinked, shedding a few tears, and pulled him tightly into a hug, feeling Dale tighten his grip on his suit jacket. "It hurts me too to see you this way, you know? I’m not taking this lightly either, Coop."

"The vomiting and my absurd weight loss were courtesy of my nightmares and BOB inhabiting my body. I felt disgusted when I ate. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, a different person was looking back at me. That's in the past now obviously, but the nightmares turned me into BOB. He turned me into my worst nightmare, his best prized thing." Dale looked down in shame. "I look like a beast." 

Albert brushed Dale's long hair, and his eyes then went to Dale's face. "Coop, this can be fixed. You're not that fucking succubus, and you never will be." Albert reminded him, breaking the embrace and placing his hand on his cheek.

"How can you love a monster, Albert?" Dale asked Albert, whimpering. 

"I don't want you to ever say that ever again, OK?" Albert barely raised his voice, then gently hugged Dale again, holding his head. "You're not a monster. Do you think I believed you wanted to dream with him, that you were looking for it?" 

"But look at me!" Dale broke the hug and threw his arms to his sides. "BOB made me become this, and I hurt you by lying to you! And that’s why I wanted to end my life…”

Albert sighed, and brushed Dale's hand with his thumb, getting Dale to look him in the eye. Albert blinked, letting a few tears fall. 

He was going to bring Dale out of the darkness, and was going to help him feel better. He knew how much of an effect Dale's mother's death had on him. How BOB would hunt him down and do terrible things to him, ever since he tried to get through the door in his dreams. He believed him, and he wasn't going to pretend that it wasn't real because it was real for Dale, and he was close to death again. 

"I hope you won't make an attempt in justifying me, Albert. I was wrong and I take responsibility for my actions. I recognize it was wrong that I lied to you. You don't deserve that." Dale muttered, hiding behind his hair. "Albert, you shouldn't feel guilty about abandoning me. I know you understand that you should have ignored me and stayed anyway, but if that had been the case, BOB-" Dale started to say, painfully trying to sit on the bed.

"Dale, no. Stop it." Albert stopped him. "You're not doing anything by playing as a white knight, you just end up killing yourself more and more, damn it. Are you even listening to what you’re saying?"

“No. I- No…”

"I wasn't going to abandon you anyway, Dale." Albert whispered, crying quietly. "With that being said, there's nothing more horrible than watching you suffer alone. You were scared. You don't deserve that either." 

"Solitude is the answer, Albert. I can't hurt the ones I love anymore. And it's selfish of me to let you stay here, with me. But I love you. But this is so wrong." Cooper weeped, then sniffled, looking Albert in the eye. "I feel so lonely. And it hurts to be, but I suppose I'm destined to be alone. I'm just bad news. I understand whatever decision you may take."

"You're never going to be alone, damn it, Dale. I'm here." Albert confessed, crying. "You're not alone, you have me, Diane, Denise. You're quite the literal definition of a flutter bum, and I swear, you're not a monster, Dale."

"Albert-"

"No, you let me finish." Albert interrupted, his two hands firmly resting on Dale's shoulders. "I admire you, and I care too much about your well-being to leave you here in this pigsty of suffering, your deepest terrors eating at you everytime you're at your lowest. Your feelings matter to me. You matter to me. You are my friend, and you always make an admirable effort to understand me, when many have simply ignored me or cast me aside because of my cynicism. So, with more reason I should be here when you're at your lowest. And quite frankly, Diane has been telling me for years to cut the crap and tell you that I loved you." 

Dale shook his head softly, his mouth turning into a sad grimace, looking down at the guilt and the truth of Albert's words. Dale sighed and sniffled, letting tears fall from his eyes, his face being covered by the long locks of his hair. Albert wrapped his arms around him, letting him cry. Dale just sunk his face in Albert’s shirt, thinking it would erase all the pain. 

"Sorry Albert. You don't deserve this." Dale blubbered, in an attempt to modulate his feelings with honesty. "I just don't feel like a human being anymore. I lost all my humanity, and in every corner of this house, there's something that belongs to a dead man. There's nothing that I consider mine. Almost as if I’m not here at all."

“But you are.” Albert whispered, making Dale raise his head at him. “And there’s no way in hell you are going anywhere next.”

Dale shook his head no, gulping. “But I’m not here for myself, I’m still running away. Albert, I’m a trainwreck of a man and I don’t know if someone like me will ever have the chance to live among people ever again.” Dale mumbled, parting from the hug. 

There was a long silence, with Albert staring at Dale, waiting for an answer, and Dale looking down, expecting Albert to say the truth again. Albert reached out for his hand, and squeezed it softly. “Coop, you are . You wouldn’t be here talking to me if you hadn’t woken up. You wouldn’t allow BOB to fuck with you anymore. You survived. I don’t know what the hell you did to get away from him, but you’re a survivor. You’re here for you.” Albert reminded him, and Dale swore there was a soft, blue light emanating from behind Albert. He swore he blinked and there were angels, flying above him.

He blinked, and he was sitting in the White Lodge, with blue curtains falling over him and blowing softly, as an angel that looked like Albert flew above him. Laura was there for him, hugging him. He remembers her angel too back there in the Black Lodge, and finally realized. She was safe. And so was Dale. 

And that’s when Dale realized why BOB would vanish every time Albert was around. Albert was good. Albert was from the White Lodge. He was his angel. Laura was his guardian angel just like Dale was hers.

“We’re alright.” Laura whispered, her voice soft and gentle, her eyes glossy. “We’ll be together in every universe.”

Dale smiled, for the first time in a long time, and cried tears of joy, closing his eyes then again to absorb the situation, and he felt his body relax once more, realizing that he was here. He was here for himself at last, coming back home to himself after decades. He reached the White Lodge, somehow. He was going to be alright. 

In reality, Dale had fallen asleep in Albert's arms, feeling his thumb stroke his back. Albert just tucked him in bed again and stayed with him until he also fell asleep. Dale didn't stir nor scream once in his sleep. BOB never reappeared in Dale's dreams since that night.

From that night on, everything got better. Eventually, Dale's cheeks and stomach stopped being swollen, but he was still too small for his height. Albert's cousin had become his new psychologist, and he began to make positive progress. 

"Albert, due to the circumstances I am in and after much consideration, I have decided that moving out of this pathetic little apartment would be beneficial to my health." Dale told him a few days later, concentrating on making a pancake without Albert's help.

Albert was on the couch, reading the paper, when he raised his head and then walked over to Dale, putting his hand on his hip. "About time."

And now Dale had to say the complicated part of this whole affair. "While you've been working, I've been thinking about moving somewhere up north, not close to Twin Peaks. I've thought about going back to my home state in Pennsylvania, but there's nothing left for me there anymore. Not even with my now reunited family." Albert nodded his head at that. Dale inhaled deeply and then exhaled, blinking.

"Philly's nice." Albert added, though he considered that Cooper staying out of Philadelphia would be a better option. 

Dale's old green house had resurfaced, and there was nothing more horrifying than a ghost showing you photos from the universe that had slid through whatever crack Cooper saved Laura might've created. Graduation photos of Dale smiling with his mother and his diploma in one hand, for example. Albert couldn't sleep that night after he saw them. They weren't meant to be real.

"It is, but I can't go home anymore. It brings back bad memories." Dale sighed, flipping the pancake carefully, hearing the mix sizzle on the pan. "And I like it here in the northwest. I like peaceful, little towns with forests and lakes."

"Not stepping a foot in one anymore." Albert mumbled, sipping on his coffee.

There was a silence, as Albert poured coffee into his mug, and Dale gulped, ready to share his proposal to Albert. "When I get the chance to move out, I'm going to be very lonely and I'm afraid I'm going to need a roommate." Dale cringed afterwards by listening to his own awkward words. He tried to fix it, by saying: "I don't want to be alone."

Albert nodded his head until his eyes suddenly grew wide as he realized what he was implying. Dale blinked, thinking it made him uncomfortable. "I'd really like to move in with you there, Albert. I-I know you’re not into that small town business, much less after, you know but- All I desire is to be with you." Dale stammered, turning off the fire of the stove and putting the last pancake on the plate.

Albert thought, and yes, he was tired of his apartment too. Besides, he wanted to be with Dale. He loved him very much, and he was still his friend. He could trust that Dale could now be alone with his own appliances, but if BOB still wanted his friend, he couldn't be alone. Albert was going to move mountains and earth for Dale. He loved Dale.

"What follows is to make an in-depth investigation of where we want to live. No loud cities for you, no small town big secrets crap for me." And so Dale's smile widened and he hugged Albert tightly, happy that Albert had accepted his proposal. Dale was on cloud nine.

Some time after that, they decided to settle in a house in Crescent City, a small town in Northern California filled with greenery, where Redwood Forest was located. It didn't take long with the move. After an entire day of organizing Dale's astrology books and Albert's comic books, Dale's dream pop cassettes and Albert's jazz singles; from Dale's blankets of every variety to Albert's t-shirts, starting with Albert's French cookbook and ending with Dale's telescope standing near the shared bedroom window, they collapsed on the orange couch, one on top of the other in a way that their bodies were unwilling to cooperate in getting up.

After they were settled, with Albert coming back home from work every night thanks to the bureau, Dale started to look for people like him dressed with his newfound confidence, but not exposing much of himself either so as to not attract strangers. Among zines that were sold down the street and small interactions at the supermarket, Dale met new people who he sensed were a good influence to him, and people who he felt good with. From Charlotte the transsexual woman who was once a biker in the sixties that would shop for groceries at the same time as him, to John the preschool teacher who had complimented the drawing he had done on a practice afternoon in the local park.

He began to feel better about what had happened to him while doing little drawings and poems, something that made him feel better, rejoicing in his progress and ability of healing. He also wanted to help others, boys and girls who were in the same situation as him. Not out of guilt, but to ensure they’d least have someone to rely on or talk to when they felt alone or helpless. And so he decided that he’d start to help other victims like him, like Laura, who he still didn’t forget about and wouldn’t anytime soon. He’d do it when he was in a better physical condition.

Unfortunately, The week after they moved in, Albert got assigned a case where he had to be outside of California for a month. Luckily, Diane had offered herself to look after Dale, who was still pretty rough after what happened. 

When Diane arrived at the new house, first her eyes quickly glanced around in surprise. Unlike Dale's old house, it didn't look dark and grim. It had warm colors and muted earth tones that were somehow convincing enough for Albert, who hated colors like that. It was cozy and comforting, and everywhere you looked, it looked like it was Dale and Albert’s house. From the tibetan rug to the french cuisine book Diane had bought Albert for Christmas in 1985.

 Then, she hugged Dale tightly and slapped him. "I don’t give a shit if I shouldn't have done that or not, but damn it Dale you sure have a hard head!" Diane whined, as Dale rubbed his cheek. 

"I had it coming sooner or later, Diane. You didn't deserve that. However, it's worth noting that my emotional state now-"

Diane sighed, brushing back Dale's hair which was even longer than before and was close to reaching his elbows. Then she looked at his face and that measly excuse for a mustache drawn on his face with five facial hairs.

"Jesus, Coop. You have that awful mustache and Albert didn't say anything?" Dale blushed in embarrassment.

"I know, even Albert hates it. Surprisingly, he did nothing to stop it. However, for the time being I wouldn't go near any object that would allow me to shave it off." Dale clarified, and Diane dragged him into the bathroom. 

Then she brought a chair from the study and sat him down, to put a towel around his shoulders. She grabbed a pair of scissors and a razor, and looked at Dale in the mirror. "Be honest, Coop, you wanted to do this with me." Diane came clean with him, causing Dale to grin from ear to ear and look down in embarrassment, his cheeks flushed red. "Good. As it should've been." 

Diane cut Dale's hair, leaving it the way it looked before he went to Twin Peaks. Next, Dale shaved the hair growing above his lips and around his cheeks and chin with Diane's assistance.

He trimmed his nails without much difficulty, and when night fell, he looked in the mirror and smiled, hugging Diane. Diane returned the hug, and what was left of that evening consisted of watching movies playing on TV and Diane gossiping with Dale about her work. When Diane left, the phone started ringing. Dale crawled into his bed, and answered the call. "Special- Dale Cooper." 

"At least you're my Special Agent. Former Special Agent, but you're mine anyway." 

Dale grinned from ear to ear, blushing pink. "Albert!" 

"I decided that calling at the same time every night would do you good, because I was still planning to call you anyway to make sure you're not doing anything out of the ordinary. I'm calling from a grubby hotel in the middle of antsville USA. To say I'm frosted about it is an understatement." Albert mentioned, followed by a huff.

"Anything else?" Cooper asked him with a smile, fiddling with the phone cord.

"Hell, I can't keep anything from you! I wanted to annoy Diane too but it seems that she ran away." Albert confessed, making Dale laugh.

"Sorry Albert, but sometimes it's so easy to read your mind." Cooper sighed. "Other than your complaints about the hotel, how are you?" 

Albert sighed. "I miss you. Nothing out of the ordinary, obviously. I'm starting to worry too much, but luckily it doesn't last more than two minutes." 

Cooper's smile faded. "Oh, Albert. Please don't do that. I have enough of that happening to me." Cooper mused. 

"I'm not doing it on purpose. I'm not going to be like you, Dale. I don't want you to worry about that." Albert told him, then cleared his throat. “But these last months have been a hell for me too.”

“I know, Albert. And I’m sorry.” Dale apologized. “We made it without any major issues, I'd like to think. If there's something that's making you uncomfortable please don't hesitate to mention it to me." 

"I could say the same. I hope that when I come back you don't have those four-"

"They were five hairs." Cooper corrected him with a smile.

"Were? Diane didn't keep that mustache not even to piss me off?" Albert asked him.

"No, she hated it too, believe it or not. But I shaved it with her watching me, so my poor excuse of a mustache is part of the past." 

Albert raised his eyebrows. "I have to go Coop, sorry to cut you off. The sheriff here at Horse Shit USA is going to have an interview with me tomorrow morning, and I have to be prepared. Lucky me." 

Dale nodded. "Okay. I love you, Albert. Goodnight." 

"Godnight to you too, Dale. I love you too." Albert wished him, hanging up the phone. Dale glanced at his phone for a little before turning off the light and falling asleep.

In the next few days, Dale has never felt so much love and joy for himself. He had gained the weight he had lost and he considered he looked even better than he did before. 

 Of course, sometimes he didn't feel as bright as he did before, but he was finally achieving what he deserved for so long: inner peace with himself and his life. He started to pick up on old hobbies of his, including performing small magic tricks, and the joy was infinite. He’d write love letters to himself when he didn’t feel well, but never signed them with his name. He even tried to meditate and never had a single vision or visit from BOB.

Albert kept calling every night, keeping his promise. When he didn't, Dale wouldn't worry much because he knew Albert didn't have to do that every night either. 

When Albert came back from the case, he heard not a single noise from his boyfriend. He smelled something from the kitchen. Food. French cuisine. Nothing was burning. Not a sound of Dale around the house. 

When he walked into the kitchen, he saw Dale, cooking, nothing burning. A strange sight to see. Dale turned around and yelped, startled by Albert. He had his hand on his heart, and was panting. 

"Jesus, Albert! You scared me." Dale let out a sigh.

Albert scanned him from head to toe. He looked very similar to the man he knew before he went to Twin Peaks, but he looked more like… Dale. Not Special Agent Dale Cooper. Just Dale. And he loved that. 

Albert smiled and hugged him tightly, as Dale returned the hug, wrapping his arms around Albert.

"I missed you too." Dale whispered, as he brushed Albert's short hair. He broke the hug and smiled shyly, looking down. "I made noodles with parisienne sauce. Just how you like them."

Albert's eyes were blown away. "Wait really? Diane wasn't kidding when she said you started to-"

Dale giggled and looked down, then looked up at Albert again. "And Diane wasn't kidding when she said you were attracted to it." 

Albert blushed red and huffed. "Of course she did. I'll help you fix the table. Stop standing there smiling like a goof, Dale." 

After they set the table, they had dinner, which consisted of Albert ranting about his latest case followed by bits of compliments of Dale's cooking, and then Dale telling Albert how he'd spent the days while he was away.

"Anything else aside from painting your sorrows into canvases?" Albert asked him, rolling some noodles into his fork.

"Connecting and socializing with other people like me. Helping them out, doing what I couldn't do for the ones that aren't here anymore. I finally realized I can't change the past." Dale admitted, drinking out of his glass of wine. 

“Took you long enough.” Albert told him, earning a nod from Dale. They must've brushed their hands once or twice while at it, and lost count of all the times they had gazed lovingly at each other. 

After they had done the dishes together and Dale had gone to brush his teeth, Albert petted a cat, who was half asleep on the end of Dale's bed. When Dale came back, he smiled and brushed her back, making her yawn and jumping out of bed. 

"So it's safe to say that's your emotional support animal?" Albert asked him, taking off his watch and suit jacket. 

Dale shrugged. "More or less. I wanted to have a pet for so long. Nellie is just perfect. I must mention to you that she needs guidance, she's blind in her right eye, I'll tell you later what to do to make things easier for her." Cooper pointed to his right eye. "Now that I am not even the slightest bit overworked as I had been when I worked at the Bureau, I can look after a small individual now." 

Albert raised his eyebrows and sat by Dale's side. "This is not how I expected your proposal of having a child to be like." 

Dale laughed, shaking his head. "Oh no, Albert. I could never be a father. Look at mine."

"Don't think too much about it, me neither. My father was in and out of my house all the time." Albert confessed, as they sat silently, glancing at each other's eyes; both losing themselves in their irises, seeking for warmth, for love.

"Albert I would very much like to kiss you again, if you give me the permission to do so." Dale broke eye contact, as Albert rolled his eyes and huffed, breaking into a smile.

"Then do it." He told him, removing his suit jacket. Dale only smiled and leaned over Albert's face to connect his lips with his, fingers finding Albert's navy tie and undoing it.

Albert closed his eyes, as he pushed Dale to the back of the bed, their bodies starting to intertwine and touch.

Now with most of his body exposed, Albert undid the orange shirt Dale had on, then the white t-shirt he wore underneath, finally getting to his exposed torso, kissing every nook and cranny when he had the chance to do so, making Cooper moan in pleasure, kissing Albert's neck.

"Fuck, Coop. Has anyone ever told you how fucking beautiful you are?" Albert whispered, as he felt his pants slide down his legs. Eventually, he made Cooper's pants disappear somewhere underneath the bed.

"Yes. In more than one instance." He mumbled, being interrupted by Albert's kisses. "Please, go on." 

Dale moaned, closing his eyes, gripping on the bed sheets. Albert leaned over to kiss his lips, brushing his cheekbones with his thumb. "I've dreamt of this." Albert whispered, biting Dale's neck, making him yelp. "More than once." 

Dale nodded, smiling, feeling Albert inside of him, almost as if they were one. Dale couldn't believe it for one moment. It was too perfect. 

Albert then started to kiss his chest softly, but heard Dale squirm and freeze, stopping what he was doing. Albert looked at his naked boyfriend underneath him, and brushed his cheek. "Do you want me to stop?" Albert asked him. Dale stared at him and sighed. 

"Not really. I'd rather have you doing it more gently, if that isn't a problem." He replied to him, as Albert laid by his side and started to brush Dale's chest, glancing at him lovingly. 

"Is there anything you don't want to do?"

"Oral. Penetration. Just not now. Maybe in another instance." Dale clarified to him, petting Albert's head.

"So nothing too wild? Want to keep this pretty vanilla?"

Dale smiled brightly, dazed from earlier. "That's not even wild for my standards. With that being said, I do love kissing. I like it when you kiss me, Albert." 

Albert leaned over him, planting kisses across his face and jaw, hearing him giggle underneath. Dale followed by kissing Albert too, wrapping his arms around him, holding him. 

Albert thinks Dale's beautiful, he deserves to have this after the last months which have consisted of nothing but a reenactment of his traumas. He deserves to be happy and it relaxes him that Dale seems to have finally achieved it.

Dale also believes that Albert is beautiful, he's moved by the fact his feelings are returned and that despite everything, despite being a man that doesn't seem real to many, he is loved and felt that way. He can't believe he got where he had wanted to be for so long.

Dale stops, feeling Albert lay over his arm and fixing his position so that Dale can remove it. Dale snuggled in his chest and blinked. "I love you so much." He whispered, feeling the warmth of Albert's body.

"Idem. I missed listening to your rants about Tibetan food in this shitty case I was in." Albert replies, stroking Dale's hair.

Dale smiles and laughs softly, drowsy and still in shock about what he did earlier. He puts his hand close to Albert's cheek and brushes it, making Albert blink. 

"Have I told you how beautiful you look under the moon, Albert?" He then sighed, kissing Albert's cheek.

"Your medication must be kicking in because that's not the truth. Keep dreaming, Coop." Albert comments, holding Dale's hand. "Should we get you a new mirror?"

Dale shakes his head no and kisses Albert again, short but sweet. "No, Albert. I mean it. You're beautiful."

Albert blinks again, in disbelief, and smiles as he presses a kiss on Dale's cheek. Dale smiles and kisses Albert once more, and then his nose softly rubs Albert's neck. Albert wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close, putting his chin over Dale's head.

"Missing you was an understatement." Albert whispered, hearing Dale hum.

"I know." Dale blinked a few times, snuggling closer into Albert's touch. "I can't believe it, Albert."

Albert's fingers started to softly brush Dale's hair. "Can't believe what?" Dale raised his head to look at Albert and smile softly.

"That I'm finally living the life that I've been seeking to have for so long. That I get to have you." Dale whispered, a huge smile forming on his face, his eyes shining like a thousand little stars.

Albert didn't have the words for once in his life, so he just kept stroking his hair, letting him look at Albert warmly. How he missed that smile of Dale's. How he loved to see that he had finally found peace after so long. Dale then sighed and snuggled again in Albert's chest, Albert sinking his head into his pillow.

Dale found him staring at him for too long now, and giggled, followed by a short yawn. "What?" 

Albert shook his head softly, Dale falling asleep in his chest. Dale knew exactly what Albert was feeling. "It's just the way I smile…" Dale whispered, succumbing to a peaceful sleep, a big smile on his face. Albert wouldn’t want anything else in the world.

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 65

Chapter 65: “The Secret Garden”

I'm so used to seeing GP in black & white because of how often I read through the upcoming chapters, so whenever I do see artwork of Emma and her time here at the hunting ground I’m literally blown away by all the bright colors. 

Back during ch61, Yuugo realized that Emma is the one who decides the plan based on Ray’s knowledge and though I did comment about how that dynamic works really well for them, I also brought up how both kids can function just fine on their own. The reason for that is because they pick up the other’s main role during their time apart. Without Ray, we see how Emma has slowed down and started to analyze her situation (at least it seems more clear to me now anyways).

Emma has always been praised as the more physically fit one out of the fullscore trio (and probably all the GF kids), so the fact that Violet is able to shake her off and get Emma lose sight of her for a little bit is kinda impressive.

The way they have him reaching outside of the panel for her is pretty neat. Really stresses how desperate he was trying to save her.

Thank you geezer for saving my boy but you’re lucky you didn’t break his damn back with that slam.

I have an endless list of reasons why I wanted to see these arcs animated but add Ray’s rage to it too. All that anger, desperation and panic in his voice.. I wanna hear it so badly. It would be such a switch up from the usual calm and collected boy we’re used to.

All the times I skim through these chapters, why am I only remembering now that Yuugo & his family didn’t journey to A08-63 right away? I guess they weren’t too bothered with WM’s instructions with trying to change the world, but aahh, now I wish we could’ve seen more of those couple months of them just chilling out in the bunker.

Oh huzzah, now you wanna be nice. Emma’s little speech warmed up your lonely heart a bit huh?

Here we start to see the role reversal thing with Ray now making final decisions. Sure it leans on his vow from ch38 of protecting his family, but him choosing to go after Emma despite all the things Yuugo just told him about the poachers and the hunting ground is something he doesn’t need to think twice about. It’s a reckless move but hey, that’s exactly how Emma usually functions.

How did Violet know she had the pen? Did she randomly dig around Emma’s pockets looking for it? And she must’ve had her own normal pen on hand to right this message considering the WM pens don’t have any ink, yeah? And Emma slept through all this happening? I’m strangely baffled by it all.

What would have the scary GP music sounded like?? Aahh no doubt that Obata would’ve definitely nailed the chilling yet anxiety filled atmosphere of this place. I forget when or where I tossed out this thought of mine, but I still think it would’ve been pretty bittersweet if it was a very rushed/distorted version of Leslie’s song. Sweet because we’d hear that iconic melody again but bitter because ooohh just imagine what the demons could’ve done to that poor lad to get that song.

Favorite panel/moment:

The absolute fury on Ray’s face lives rent free in my head.. like I have flipped through this story on countless occasions and I have a hard time picking out another moment where we see Ray get this insanely hell-bent on anything. He is just so incredibly pissed off at Yuugo’s schemes but also at himself for not being quick enough to grab Emma. This also contributes to him now calling the shots because no matter what Yuugo tells him, Ray’s beyond adamant in saving Emma no matter the danger to himself.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

SHAHAHAHAHA STOP I JUST GOT JUMPSCARED BY THAT DOG THATS SO ACCURATE THOUGH??? Now that I’ve gotten over the original shock factor it’s kinda cute but in a “oh my you look like you need some love” kinda way (why’s it so crusty HAHSHSHSHS)

LMFOAOA Rin learning from the two older bros of PxG….but fr I need some goofy lines

No because Nagi sleeps and sits around doing nothing all day what kind of sleeping are you doing to get abs??? Tell me???

ABAHAGSH omg Karasu side chick….Otoya would be devastated

Oh wait I wasn’t aware that Shidou didn’t play in a club before?????? How’d he get scouted then actually…??? Shidou truly is THE enigma of blue lock LMAOAO

REAL like you play what now…? I mean like I played dragonvale and like tiny zoo which involved I guess some level of management but I played for the animals not the management part?? I feel like it would be really funny if he’s just like absolute ass at games like smash bros or Mario kart like I can imagine Otoya, hiori, and nagi kicking his ass LMAO honestly Yuki even beating him would be really hilarious

KARASU PANEL >>>>> ugh I nearly passed out when I first saw him come out in epinagi like prayers have been answered thank you epinagi!!!!!

No because what the hell are those shoes DHDGSHS maybe there’s something about soccer and neon colors I feel like neon yellow is a commonly used color for soccer teams and uniforms too (not just pro teams like little league equivalents and etc LOL) like…I thought the Wanima green shoes were already awful…

Also I saw a theory that their shoe color corresponds to what team they were on first selection!! I thought it was interesting and for the most part checks out but then you load up the official site and it seems team Z is supposed to be blue but Hiori (who was also revealed to be Z) has the team V white and black shoes so er..wondering if the anime team just kinda slapped on whatever color shoes but either way if it were true that would’ve helped a lot with clarifying the other stratums’ player distribution

According to that theory everyone new in second selection would’ve been from team V (black and white shoes) except Nanase who would be team Z (blue shoes)

-Karasu anon

PLEASEE omg i’m sorry for the jump scare 😭 it just is exactly how i view him…like oh you are so crusty i need to love you because no one else will…LMAO i feel like all hairless dogs kinda look like that 😩

rin is following in karasu and shidou’s footsteps but instead of being vaguely menacing/sassy/sexual he’s just going straight for the most insane stuff imaginable (we talked abt the “you’re my property” but also “this is your vip seat” @ isagi was equally as unhinged HELLO????)

NAGI NEEDS TO DROP THE ROUTINE imagine he’s just shredded because he rolls around sm in his sleep that he burns a bunch of calories 😭

yeah according the egoist bible it says “none” for soccer teams played for before bllk 😟 where did my man come from?? is he like an experiment made by ego and anri or smth i’m truly so intrigued by him PLS

i feel like if someone cheated on otoya he genuinely would repent for all of his sins HAHAAH he gives me the vibes that he’s always the heartbreaker but i think getting dumped first by someone he kinda liked might actually cure him 😭

i think we are actually the same person because i was a HUGE dragonvale player as a kid 😰 i actually also redownloaded it on my ipad in my senior year of high school so i could play it in class while pretending to take notes LMAOAOA #nagimoment 💔 i was like known for playing dragonvale in school and still getting good grades which looking back is crazy but yk i was on my grind 🥱 i was soooo happy whenever i got the gemstone dragons (my ruby dragon was my pride and joy) but agreed i didn’t go for aesthetics or anything i literally just tried to breed the prettiest dragons possible and sold the rest 😔

i feel like karasu would play as waluigi in both mario kart and smash and me personally i HATE waluigi so this enrages me but i fear it’s the only correct option for him 😢 in mario kart i think hiori would play as toad, otoya would play as yoshi (original green color) and nagi would play as king boo 🤔 and my goats WOULD beat karasu’s waluigi-picking ass 😴 yukimiya def accidentally joins, picks mario because he doesn’t know any other characters, and somehow manages to win just because karasu is so bad that he goes backwards for half of the map

no neon is sooo soccer like honestly it’s not in character but somehow so is?? those shoes are egregious though i’m actually interested to see how they’re animated…ig it’s to like set sae apart?? idk. but i’ve never heard that theory before it’s cool though!! and it makes sense that most of the players are from team v as that was supposed to be the “best” team in the five-team stratums so those players were probably more skilled and therefore more likely to make it through second selection.

also…a little birdie told me that the next hollyhock chapter will be up in the next hour or so 😯🤭😏🫣🤫 hehehe

[domxmarvel]

Fruits basket preferences-Keychain

1K masterlist 

A/N: For the last prompt on my 1K prompt list I wanted to try something new,I might write more for fruits basket if this is well received 

Tohru - Rice Ball

Class was over and you walked out to meet your girlfriend. Her class was out early,you found her standing at the front of the school. Wrapping your arms around her,you kissed her cheek. 

"Hey plum"

"Y/N" She laughed,turning her head to kiss you. 

"You ready to go?" You swung your bag over your shoulder,suddenly her face lit up. 

"When did you get that?" She pointed to your bag. You realized that she was asking about your keychain,which was a rice ball with a plum on the back. 

"A few days ago. I saw it and thought of you,so I had to get it" Her face lit up even more,and her smile became even brighter, which you didn't know was even possible. She practically jumped on you,almost making you fall.

"I love you" She whispered,quietly so that only you would hear. 

"Love you too,plum" 

Kyo - Cat

"What the hell is that thing?" 

"It's a keychain" You answered sarcastically.

"I know that but why does it have to be a cat" You could already see that his face was bright red,it was so easy to make him flustered. When you took a step forward and he stepped back,when his back hit the wall you put both your hands on either side of him. 

“Because I love you”

“Don’t say stuff like that” You leaned in to whisper

“And so that everyone knows I’m yours” His face somehow got even more red and he quickly pushed you away to run out. It really was too easy to make him flustered. 

The next day as you were walking home you noticed a keychain on Kyo’s bag. It was a small cat who’s fur matched your hair color.

Yuki - Rat

"Where,where could it go?" You had already looked through several classrooms,but couldn’t find your keychain. You had no idea where you could’ve dropped it,but you didn’t wanna leave before you found it. You were walking through the halls when Yuki walked up to you.

“There you are,I’ve been looking for you”

“Is there something wrong?”

“I was gonna ask you that,I’ve been waiting for you so we could go home” You were so focused that you completely forgot that you promised to help him with his garden.

“I’m so sorry”

“Are you alright?” He put his hand on your cheek. “What are you looking for?” You sighed.

“I lost my keychain” You confessed before quickly adding. “But it’s not that important,let’s go” You grabbed his hand and started walking out.

“Say was that keychain a small gray rat?” You stopped and turned to face him.

“How did you know that?” He opened his hand to reveal the keychain. “You found it?”

“I thought it was yours,but I couldn’t find you until now” You attached it back onto your bag,and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you,my prince” Instantly his face was bright red and you were scared for a moment that he might transform,but thankfully he didn’t. 

“You're Welcome” 

Hatsuharu - Cow/Ox

For some reason Haru was in a great mood,he hadn’t snapped or even gotten close. Kyo was trying but he was unsuccessful,which made everyone confused. Even you couldn't figure out why he was in a good mood. It was lunchtime and you were relaxing on the roof. You had your back to the wall while Hatsuharu was laying down with his head in your lap,you were running your fingers through his hair. 

"What's got you in such a good mood?" You finally asked,he smirked as he opened one of his eyes.

"I saw your keychain, '' he said before closing his eyes again. If you knew he'd be so calm and happy about it you would've shown it to him,instead of not saying anything.

"I'm happy you liked it. There’s actually one more thing” You brushed your hair back,showing off your earrings. Which were a pair of round white circles with black non uniform dots. He sat up and kissed you.

“Have you been wearing this all the time?”

“Yeah,you just never noticed” You laughed and leaned in to kiss him again. “I love you”

“I love you too”

Momiji - Rabbit 

“Y/N” Momiji was running through the school,yelling your name. 

“Hey Momiji slow down,you could get hurt” You brushed his hair away and kissed his forehead. He stopped in front of you.

“Y/N look what I found” He handed you a paper bag. Inside the bag there were two matching bunny keychains. You picked up one of them by the ring and took a closer look. The keychains had your names on them.

“Momiji these are so cute,thank you”

“Promise me you’ll carry them with you all the time” 

“Promise” You clipped the keychain onto your bag. 

[cooliofango]

could i get a oneshot of soldier 76/male reader's wedding? recall age (as in around 55) please :D this is so self-indulgent but you know how it is

What A Miracle

Soldier 76 x M! Reader

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Ahhhh this gives me really cute ideas~! I’m am honored to fulfill your indulgences! Hopefully my little piece of work here will do the job. I shall listen to 80s and 90s love songs for vibes as I write this.

Enjoy~!

—————

A miracle. If the old soldier had to label this day as something, then it would be labeled as a miracle. Not because it was impossible, of course. He just never thought he would ever experience this moment so far along in his life. Yet here comes (Y/N) to prove him wrong. When Jack first met him, he would’ve never thought that the two of them would end up preparing for something so special. Hell, marriage was never something that crossed his mind until only months before he had proposed to (Y/N). Yes, Jack Morrison was the one to pop the question, as awkward as he was while saying it. (Y/N) thought it was precious and gladly accepted the proposal. It’s what lead them to the moment the two of them were at now. The last minute preparations were about to wrap up to start the beautiful event. 

Jack stood still as Ana fixed up his tie one final time. “There. Now you’re ready.” She spoke with a slight sense of pride- pride in the fact that her old friend was actually settling down and doing something for himself for once. Jack spends so much time saving and protecting people. To Ana, he deserves to have this day. Jack looked in the mirror and stare back at his reflection. The sight was almost unreal to him- like he was a whole different person. He wasn’t wearing any armor. He didn’t carry a gun. Instead, he wore a nice black tux with a light blue button up shirt underneath the coat. For once, he looked and felt like a normal man instead of a soldier who was always on the hunt. And he had (Y/N) and the feelings Jack had for him to thank for it. He wondered how (Y/N) was doing at that moment. What suit was he wearing? Was he nervous? Jack wasn’t really nervous. He didn’t think so, anyways.

“Let’s get going. It’s your big day, after all.” Jack looked away from the mirror to see Ana by the door instead of behind him like she was before. He must’ve spaced out for a moment there. “Right..” Jack cleared his throat before turning to follow Ana out of the room. She lead the way to the chapel where everyone else sat. Both of Jack’s and (Y/N)’s friends and families were there, seated in pews on either side of the main isle. They were decorated with light blue and white ribbon and tinsel along the back with the ends pinned to look like flowers made from the same material. The end of the isle where the bestmen and bridesmaids stood was decorated in a similar color scheme with the addition of beautiful white flowers. The bridesmaids wore light blue silk gowns and the bestmen wore light blue tux’s with white undershirts. It looks just as (Y/N) and Jack had wanted. It was beautiful and everyone could agree as they sat or stood in their place. 

Jack stepped onto the slightly elevated platform where the bestmen and bridesmaids stood as well, taking his place in front of the bestmen. A heavy breath slipped past his lips- one he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Maybe he was nervous. Just a little. Even with his own nervousness, he couldn’t think about his own worries for long. His mind drifted back to (Y/N) in an instant. How was he holding up? Jack hoped that nothing was wrong with (Y/N) in any way. Were things to his liking? Jack looked down at himself, messing with the cuff. Did he, himself, look presentable? Questions like that and more began to cloud his mind. However, the sound of music silenced these thoughts. It was the wedding march.

Jack stiffened for a moment, his gaze darting to look at the large double doors on the opposite side of the room. It felt like a sudden moment of truth washing over him. Like this moment would change everything. Would that be a bad thing? The doors swung open and everyone stood. (Y/N) wore a white tux with a light blue tie and his hair was styled neatly for the occasion. Placed on top of his head was a crown of morning glories, colored to match the theme. His arm was linked with a relative’s who had began to walk him down the isle, a beautiful smile adorning his features. Jack thought (Y/N) looked stunning. More than stunning, actually. He couldn’t find the correct word to describe how (Y/N) looked in his eyes, yet he couldn’t look away from (Y/N) as he stood in a small state of awe.

Jack locked met (Y/N)’s gaze for a moment and took not of how his features grew red in color. (Y/N) was blushing and Jack found that the look only added to his beauty. When (Y/N) finally got to Jack, his relative released his arm to go and stand with the rest of the crowd before them. Jack gently took hold of his hands and rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. “You look stunning..” He spoke in a hushed tone. There was a loving look in his eyes, one he’d only have when looking at the man before him. (Y/N) released a breathy chuckle as if he had been holding his breath as well. “And you’re as handsome as ever.” (Y/N) couldn’t seem to stop himself from smiling in that moment, gripping onto Jack’s hands a little tighter.

The priest smiled at the couple before beginning his speech. One that would bind the two of them together for life. A series of words that would change their lives for what would hopefully be the better. Though it wasn’t long that the man spoke, it felt like it took forever for the time to say their vows to come. “(Y/N) (L/N), do you take this man to be your loving husband?” (Y/N) looked up at Jack, taking in a deep breath. “I do.” He let it out as he spoke and his eyes never left Jack’s being. The priest looked to Jack now and repeated the question, using his name instead. “I do.” Jack’s voice was firm. It showed just how sure he was about this decision. He wanted this just as much as (Y/N) did. And that meant the world to not just (Y/N) but to Jack as well- simply because he never has been so sure of anything else in his life. Not until he had met you, anyways.

A robotic cooing sound filled the room. It was Snowball with a red velvet pillow on its head, the two wedding rings resting on top of it. A few chuckles at the sight came from the audience, the most noticeable one coming from Mei. Snowball stopped before the couple and waited for them to take the jewelry. Each of you took a ring in hand. They were golden bands. The one meant for Jack was just plain golden while (Y/N)’s had rectangle diamonds around the band. (Y/N) took hold of Jack’s left hand to slip the ring on for him. Jack took hold of (Y/N)’s left hand as well, slipping the ring onto his ring finger. Before letting (Y/N)’s hand rest in his to finish the ceremony, Jack raised his hand to press a gentle kiss to his knuckles. 

“With that, I now pronounce you... husband and husband.” The priest chuckled to himself. “You may now kiss the groom.” Jack released (Y/N)’s hands to wrap his arms around his waist while (Y/N) let his hands gently rest on Jack’s chest. In one fell swoop, their lips met in a sweet kiss. Cheers echoed throughout the church, causing (Y/N) to smile giddily against Jack’s lips. It was almost disappointing when they had to pull away for air. However, Jack didn’t pull back much farther, resting his forehead against (Y/N)’s. “I love you.. so much.” He muttered softly to (Y/N), who smiled and pecked his lips in response. “I love you too, Jack.” What a miracle…

—————

Aaaand done! I apologize for how long this took to get out but I hope you like this!

[thetaleoflevi]

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Distance

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Pairing: Levi x Fem!Reader

Content Type: SFW

TW: Season 3 spoiler, Blood, Profanity, Suicide (For a split second), Suggestive

Description: Reader distances herself from Levi, strongly believing her feelings are not reciprocated by him, causing Levi to miss her.

Word Count: 5.3k+

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Please go away, Captain. Or at least end me. I don’t like the way you make me feel when you’re around. I can’t breathe. Please stop walking my way. Stop looking at me with those eyes.

“Y/N, I need that paperwork on my desk by five o’clock today. Not a minute late, understood?” What are you even saying? Stop looking at me like that. His brows creased with impatience at your nonexistent response. “Hey, focus, brat.” He snapped his fingers at you, making you flinch out of your daze. “Yes, Captain! Right away.” You saluted messily and paced toward the door, returning when you figured out that you didn’t know what you were ordered to do.

“What are you agreeing to, brat?” God…that delicious word was cracking your last bits of sanity. “Repeat what I ordered you to do.” Levi demanded, not having moved an inch from where he was standing. He crossed his arms in annoyance. “Um, y-you… You said to-” “I told you to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on.” Your eyes widened, and you felt as if all the air in your lungs got punched out of you. So this was your end. This is how you die? Your Captain found your expression to be almost as funny as a shit joke. He didn’t show it on the surface, though.

“Relax, idiot. I was kidding. I want you to finish the paperwork I gave you earlier and hand it in to me by five. Pay attention, or next time it won’t be a joke.” He walked toward the door of the meeting room and turned to face you you when he heard you yelling your affirmation like an annoying parrot. “Yes, Captain! It won’t happen again!” You gave him your best salute only to have eyes rolled at you.

Levi left the room not having a clue that you almost threw up in front of him. You felt that stupid after the situation. Usually, you always felt like the rest of the world went pitch black, with only a spotlight shining on you and him, whenever he talked to you. Even when he scolded you for not doing something to his liking, you couldn’t help but focus on his devastatingly gorgeous silver eyes and how they squinted occasionally in fury, or his lips that never seemed to curve upwards and spat the ugliest words at you sometimes. It was tough love. At least that’s what you made of it.

“What happened in here? Did somebody spike the Captain’s tea? I’m very concerned.” Armin had walked into the meeting room where you stayed, replaying the conversation you just had with your handsome superior. “What are you talking about, Armin?” You ask curiously, having just seen the man acting as unfazed as always. “He smiled, Y/N. He genuinely smiled.”

You were in just as much shock as Armin was. He smiled? And I missed it?! “What were you guys talking about?” Armin sat in one of the chairs next to you. His crystal blue eyes gleamed with curiosity, wondering what was so great that it could cause the most solemn man in the scouts to crack a smile. “I zoned out while he was giving me an order, and then he told me to kill myself—not in those exact words, but, he told me to jump off of Wall Maria without any gear on. I think I made a stupid face or something, but I really thought he was ordering me to die. Then he told me the actual order.”

Armin chuckled at your retelling of the story, knowing he would have reacted the same way as Levi. “Whatever it was that you did, keep doing it! We’ve only seen Captain Levi smile once, and it’s been forever since then. Historia was crowned queen when he last smiled in front of us.” You smirked dumbly and got off the desk you were sitting on. “I’ll try my best. I gotta go, Armin. I have some paperwork to get done before Captain Levi reigns even more hell down on earth.” Armin chuckles and waves a goodbye as you leave.

It was four forty-three, and you had barely gotten anything done. With all the time you were given, you took it upon yourself to leave your work until the last minute—the procrastinating prodigy that you are. You watched everyone do their work with no thought about your own. Four forty-eight. Four fifty. Four fifty-six. Four fifty-nine. Five o’clock.

“Have you guys seen Y/N?” Levi asked Sasha, Connie, and Jean. “No, sir. She was sitting with Eren, Armin, and Mikasa when I last saw her.” Connie replied. Fucking hell, Y/N.

It was five thirty-two when you finally knocked on Levi’s door. “How nice of you to show up on time.” You heard directly inside your ear. You gasped with fear and quickly turned around. Your Captain did not look pleased at all. “Can you tell me what time it is?” You checked the clock on the wall. “Five thirty-three, sir.” Your eyes looked at everything but him. “Okay, good. Come on in.” He unlocked his office door and waited for you to walk in before slamming it shut.

You bounced slightly at the harsh sound. “You better have a damn good excuse for why my paperwork is thirty-three minutes late.” He slowly walked over to you and the stack of papers you held tightly to your chest. “Did you even do it correctly?” He snatched the stack away from you, a few papers nicking the area between your thumb and index finger. You were quick to suck on the area that bled. He looked over the work you had done, keeping the compliments he would have rewarded you with to himself. The brat is good. If only she worked faster.

“It’ll do. It’s not extraordinary work, but i’ll take it because it’s not the most important work that needed to be done.” You stopped sucking the blood from your hand and looked at him when he went silent. “Tch, use your words. Ask for a bandage or something.” He walked over to his desk and pulled out a white roll of gauze.

“Let me see.” He unstuck the beginning of the roll and returned to his spot next to you. “I can do it, sir.” You reached your undamaged hand toward the roll he held, only for him to pull it away from you. “Let me see it.” He urged, waiting for you to show him the cuts. They were surprisingly deep. You put your hand palm-up in front of you, only for him to adjust the position so that he could wrap the material around your hand correctly. The white wrapping began to turn red when it touched the blots of blood emerging from your open skin. With every layer he wrapped, less color was seen until it was just white.

Warmth was emitted through his fingers which soothed the pain in your hand a little. He let you retract your hand, watching you as you stared at the dressed wounded area. “What? Do you want me to kiss it or something?” He looked at you with an ordinary uninterested expression. Yes, please! Kiss it better. “I-I mean-“ You managed to stutter. Your cheeks flushed with heat when you realized what you had started saying. “Stop that, brat. Just stop talking.”

He walked to his desk and continued to look over the work you had done. He silently admired your considerably neat handwriting. It was as if you had typed it—the letters being all equally sized, no streaks out of line. “Right. I’m sorry.” You whispered, walking in the direction of the door. His words hit harder than usual for some reason. It was nothing to be upset about, yet you felt an unwelcome lump start forming in your throat. Maybe it’s you finally realizing that your love for him would never be reciprocated. Just being in the same room as him in that moment had you feeling more vulnerable than ever.

You mustered up the small amount of stability you had in your voice and said,”Well, if you don’t need me to do anything else, I’ll be on my way.” “That will be all.” He mumbled, not looking at you. No thank you? You saluted and left the room.

Unlike times before, Levi didn’t make your heart soar, he made it sink to the pit of your stomach, despite him touching you more than he ever has. It made you question your reasons for loving him so much. Is he worth the confusion your heart goes through when talking to the different versions of him? You’re not sure.

—

Weeks went by with you treating Levi like he was anyone but the person you longed to be with before. You still gave him the respect he deserved as your Captain, but you only talked to him when he talked to you or when you needed to deliver something to him from another one of your superiors. When he ordered you to do something, you would simply give him an affirmation and walk away. No small talk or questions. You didn’t smile like you usually did for him, and your heart wasn’t beating erratically when you accepted the duties he assigned to you.

Levi caught on to this act of yours when he started missing the way your doe eyes lingered on his as he talked to you. Now you would barely look him in the eyes. He missed the way you would try to make him laugh with a joke that had you in pain from laughing so hard. Now you only talked to him about work-related matters. He missed the way you stuttered after saying something dumb. Your voice is so steady now, and your words are chosen more carefully. He missed the clear adoration you had for him. He missed you.

Another day passed, and Levi had no excuse to talk to you. He didn’t have orders to give you. At that moment, he would’ve done anything to go back to when he would scowl at you as you laughed to your heart’s content. He would do anything to see you for more than two minutes. He would have taken the boring job of completing a pile of paperwork if it meant you were the one giving it to him and he would be able to brush his fingers against yours.

His head rested in his hands, frustrated with his inability to stomp on his pride and just walk over to wherever you were. He missed you so, so much, but he would never let you know that you were the best part of his days.

A knock came from the other end of his door. “Name and business.” He stated with his head still in his hands. “Y/LN Y/N, sir.” He perked up at the sound of your voice and he raised his head, quickly fixing the strands of hair that had moved out of place. “Commander Erwin asked me to get your signature for an important document.” He walked over and opened the door for you. “Come in.”

You entered his office and stood in front of his desk until further instruction. He shut the door quietly and walked to where you were.

“You can set the document down on my desk. I need to get a new container of ink. I’ll be back shortly.” He went to his bedroom, which connected to his office, and went through a drawer that seemed to have different supplies in it. He returned with a clear glass cube filled with black ink. He sat in his chair and read the document quickly before scribbling a beautiful rendition of his name onto the blank line at the bottom of the page.

“Here.” He flipped the paper so that it was upright to you. “Thank you, Captain.” You took the document and saluted. As you were about to leave, Levi’s voice stopped you in your tracks. “Y/N, can you sit for a minute?” He asked, hoping you weren’t in a rush to get those documents to Erwin.

“Of course, sir.” You answer, sitting in the chair in front of his desk.

He looked slightly sad. His eyes were completely softened, eyebrows curving inward slightly. “Why haven’t you come to see me as often as you used to?” All you could think was, does it really matter whether you see me or not? “I’ve been busy. I have duties entrusted to me by others. You are not my only superior, Captain Levi.” You were okay with giving him a piece of your mind in the most respectful way possible.

“I understand that, but why are you choosing to completely avoid me unless the subject is work?” Can you be anymore needy? “I’m not.” You simply respond. That is the ugliest lie you have ever told. You are avoiding him. You are keeping yourself busy to avoid even thinking about him.

“I see. I never took you for such a shitty liar.” You suppressed the need to roll your eyes. No answer will satisfy him until he hears what he wants to hear. “Well, i’m sorry to disappoint you, sir. I’ll try not to make a habit of it. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Commander Erwin said that this document needed to be returned as soon as possible.” You stood up from the wooden chair and saluted before exiting your Captain’s office.

—

The sky went dark without you realizing. You were busy all day and after the talk you had with your Captain, you were both physically and mentally tired.

As you arrived to your bedroom, not caring for the darkness that veiled your room, you let yourself fall backwards onto your bed as exhaustion creeped through your body. With your eyes closed, you lifted each of your legs and removed your boots one by one before tossing them to the ground. “Why does he suddenly care about the amount of times he’s seen me throughout the day?” You whisper to yourself as if someone would hear you.

The sound of knocking fills your ears and you pretend to have fallen asleep. “Y/N, are you in there? Are you awake?” Not now. Please. You stay silent, hoping Levi will leave you alone.

Three more knocks sound against your door. After a few seconds of complete silence, you hear the doorknob turn and the door swings open, shutting after Levi steps inside the room. “Tch, you didn’t even take your straps off.” He whispers in consideration to your ‘sleeping’ state. He sits next to you on your bed and watches your chest mimic dormant breathing. He reaches for the strap that loops around your chest and undoes the small buckle. Your chest was released and moved more freely.

By now, your act of pretending to sleep was no longer an act. You were breathing in a set rhythm through your nose.

He softly and slowly pulled your arms out of the leather that enclosed around them. You stirred a little bit before returning to the position you were in previously, on your back.

“I’m going to take care of you, my Y/N. I don’t want your skin to bruise.” He whispered while he undid your belt buckle and lowered down to work on the bands that curled tightly around your thighs. He slowly slid the rest of the leather down your calves and off completely. He got off of your bed and organized your things neatly so that you would find them easily in the morning.

“Y/N.” Levi called, shaking you softly by your arm. When you didn’t respond, he tried again. You opened your eyes slowly and squinted, furrowing your brows when you noticed someone else was there with you. “What?” You grumble, annoyed at the inability to go back to sleep. “Sorry, I need to talk to you.” That voice. You tried to spring up off the bed to salute respectfully to your Captain.

He grabbed your forearms and brought you back down to your bed. “Calm down. You don’t have to be so formal after hours.” You weren’t even asleep ten minutes, yet the drowsiness embodying you was extreme.

“Do you want me to light a candle? It’s pretty dark in here. I wasn’t expecting you or anyone else to come see me this late.” “No. I think the dark will allow courage to seep through me better.” You raised a brow in confusion. “Courage? Since when do you lack courage, Captain-“ “Levi. Just Levi between us.” “Le..vi?” He nodded with reassurance. “Since when do you lack courage in anything, Levi.”

He put his hand on your shoulder, surprised when you tensed up against the contact. He didn’t pull his hand away at the gesture, though. “I hate having to admit that I have a weakness for you, believe me, but you’re invading my thoughts every day, all the time.” This isn’t like you, Captain.

“I’m not adjusting well to this change between us. I miss the way you used to be with me. Even when I didn’t reciprocate the energy you gave off, you always managed to make feel better inside. Now that you’ve distanced yourself from me, I feel even more dead inside than usual.” His fingers stroked the fabric on your shoulder of your white button-up shirt.

“I can’t be that way with you anymore. It took me a while to realize that we’re not here to make relationships that last forever. We have the hardest job anyone could ask of us—saving humanity.” You sighed, thinking of a way to prevent yourself from hurting his feelings. “Though the thought of having you by my side is delightful, I don’t think I can go back to worshiping the ground you walk on like I did before. Our relationship should remain that of superior and subordinate.”

Levi’s head lowered. The agony he was feeling in his chest was excruciating. This last attempt to get you was sadly his final one.

“Then I have one final request.” You couldn’t help but wonder what he would want from you that he can’t get from anyone else. “Can I kiss you?” His hand that was set on your shoulder slowly made it’s way to caress your cheek. His eyes softened at the familiar look in your eyes that peered into his soul. Though you felt you should have removed his hand from the side of your face, the warmth was comforting.

“If you don’t feel anything, I promise I’ll swallow my feelings for you and leave you be. We’ll be strictly comrades, no emotional feelings involved.” He swiped your soft skin with his thumb, eyes locking with yours as he seeks a response that isn’t developed yet.

Finally. “Only once.” You whisper. He nods in acknowledgement of your instruction. His left hand attaches to your waist while his right finds your cheek again. You tremble at the foreign feeling of someone’s touch on a part of you that wasn’t an arm, a shoulder, or your back. His eyes never left yours as he slowly leaned in. God, he smelled so good. The aroma was dangerously attractive. You hoped to never come across someone that smelled the same way, that way his smell would only make you think of him.

The closer he got, the deeper his fingertips dug into your side, as if trying to pierce holes through your shirt to feel your skin.

Darkness, light—you saw both somehow. The entanglement of lips on lips was a good feeling that both of you felt mutually. He held on for as long as he could, not wanting this moment to ever end. After all, this is the first, and possibly the last time he would ever be this close to you again.

You tried to break the kiss but struggled to when you felt Levi pulling you back to connect again. It wasn’t enough for him. It was never going to be enough.

“Le..v…” You murmured indistinctly, stopping the movements from your lips completely. “No. Please…” He mumbled against your lips continuing his one-sided kiss.

It felt desperate, which was strange coming from a man like Levi who’s never begged for anything from anyone. “Come on. Kiss me.” He said with his lips pressed against yours. The feeling was undeniably good. It brought life back to the heart that stopped longing for specifically his affection.

You started moving your lips again, synchronizing quickly. His bangs tickled your forehead, causing your lips to twitch upwards.

He picked you up and placed you on his lap. Just as you were about to reach for his hair, he broke the kiss.

“I want to touch your skin, Y/N. Not in an inappropriate manner, I just need proof that this isn’t just another one of my dreams. I can’t risk going insane over another night of me just fantasizing about being your one. This shirt is the only thing standing between my hands and your soft skin—reality. I won’t touch you like that if you don’t want me to, though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” His mouth said something, but as always, his eyes said something else. They were begging for you to allow him to feel you. His hands rested on your hips. Maybe this was going too far. What if you did let him touch your bare skin, and it progressed into something inappropriate?

With that single doubt in your mind, you responded to his request with,“Unbutton my shirt, then.” The light in his eyes was shining brighter than you had ever seen. He was visually shocked at your consent. It was clear that he was grateful to have you that night in his hold.

His hands lowered to where your shirt tucked into your pants and pulled out the fabric. Before he could move onto the buttons, he searched your expression for any signs of doubt or uncertainty. None that he could see—you were that good at keeping your thoughts to yourself.

He undid every button, not missing his chance to sneak in a brush of his fingertips here and there, on your collar bone or your sternum.

Soon enough your shirt was left wide open, revealing your black bra and newly formed goosebumps brought on by the cold wind. You turned away from Levi, flustered by his eyes on your exposed torso.

He tugged on one of the loose halves of your shirt, signaling for your attention. “Eyes on me.”Goosebumps resurfaced your skin when his knuckles brushed against your stomach. “You’re beautiful.” His soothing voice assured you as his eyes explored the unknown sight.

You were brought close once again, his lips dying to return to where he knew they belonged. Goosebumps rampaged through your body as he pulled your body closer to him by your waist. The feeling of his hands wrapped around your bare sides was absurd. You were now up against his chest. His hands traveled from your sides to your back to keep you pushed against him.

If you had to remain like this for the rest of your life, you’d do it in a heartbeat, if possible, less time.

Though it wasn’t meant to be sexual, he was leaving you breathless—quite literally. His touch made your heart pound in your chest, which he surprisingly didn’t feel, even with you pressed so tightly against him. By the sound of it, he was breathless as well.

“Mmm…Levi.” You mumbled. “Hmm?” He hummed not stopping his lips from devouring yours. “We have…to…mmm...breathe…at some point.” He snickered, smiling slightly, giving you the chance to break your lips away from his. You were able to see a slight shade of pink on his cheeks in the moonlight. Whether it was from the suffocation or the steamy moment remained a mystery.

Soft pants came from both of you, and though he let go of your lips, you weren’t fully released from his grasp. His ring and middle fingers on each hand poked at your back dimples, while his thumbs did light circular motions on the sides of your abdominal area.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“I need to know what you intend to do with me, Captain. From now to…” You sigh heavily, not finding it as easy as you thought it would be to fit this conversation into the moment after what had just gone down.

Levi picks up on how tense you’ve become, seeing how stressed you suddenly look. “Hey, I’m going to listen to every word you have to say. I’m all ears, right now.” He squeezes your waist gently.

“Okay, what i’m trying to say is…I don’t want to have to mend my wounded heart every time you push me away.” You look toward the window, looking at how a cloud slowly moves in a direction that makes it collide with another cloud. To be honest, it kind of reminded you of you and Levi. The way your lives collided with each other’s, then separated, only to find each other again.

He held your chin softly between his thumb and index fingers, shifting your gaze back to him. He didn’t say anything but nodded for you to keep going. “I also don’t want to have to apologize for fulfilling my everyday duties that can lead to days of not being able to see you.” His hand released your chin and returned to the spot it was on previously, your side. It was as if he was comforting you and himself at the same time. He was hoping you wouldn’t get off, leaving him incomplete without your body weight on him.

You did exactly as he feared, almost as if you read his mind. You wanted this conversation to be as serious as possible, no distractions. You released your grasp on his shoulders and slowly began lifting yourself off of his lap. He subconsciously began letting go of your body, until he caught himself and tightened his grip, bringing you back to where you were, on his lap.

“Levi? What are you-“ “I want—no, I need you, Y/N. You know how bad it’s been on my end since you stopped talking to me like we’re the two closest people on earth? It’s been hell. Fucking hell.” His hands brushed past your sides and pushed on your back, bringing you to an embrace. Your chin landed on his shoulder and his face nuzzled into your neck. Your arms stayed by your side contrary to his which wrapped around you, brushing past the straps of your bra and settling on your upper back. You felt breaths of hot air tickle your neck as he kept talking.

“You have no clue how sad I’ve been. This is what I need from you. I don’t care if it’s something occasional. I don’t care if I only get to see you once a week, month, or year. I don’t fucking care at all. I just want you, Y/N. Please. Please, just hold me.” You could hear his calm breathing close to your ear. You lifted your arms and wrapped them around him. One hand caressed the back of his head, and the other held the mid-section of his back.

He was breathing in your scent discreetly. Black hair tickles your bare shoulder, exposed by your sagging button-up shirt. You ran your fingers through his locks of hair, smoothing down any strands that stood out.

“This feels right.” He mumbled before placing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “I want to feel your heartbeat and your warmth against me like this whenever I can.” His lips continued to brush against your skin slowly.

Minutes went by, not a word was spoken. When you tried to escape his caging hold to continue your conversation, he would just pull you close again nuzzling back into your neck. He was being really clingy tonight—not that you were complaining, it was just a odd.

“We can keep talking like this.” He mumbled. “Okay.” You whispered running your hand across his undercut.

“Are you sure you want a relationship where we won’t have every minute of the day together? I know it’ll be hell for me.” You could feel him smiling slightly against your neck. “Yes, Y/N. I know we won’t have much time in the day together, but we haven’t been taking nights into consideration.” Goosebumps crawled throughout your body when you felt his lips latch onto your neck again.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Shit. Shit. Shit. Relax. “I’m willing to be even more nocturnal for you. I also wouldn’t mind waking up next to you every morning.” He dragged his thumb across the damp spot on your neck where his lips rested before. “That s-sounds good.” You stutter noticeably. “What’s wrong?” He holds your face in his hands, clearly unable to fake concern. A smirk tugs at his lips. This man knows what he’s doing.

“Nothing. I’m okay.” You assure with a soft smile. “Okay, just making sure. You know…” He starts leaning in again, aiming for your neck. He knows your weak spot now, and you can’t even hide it.

“…I really like…” He kisses the sensitive skin lightly, basking in the way you shudder. “…spending time with you like this. How about you?” As you open your mouth to answer, he leans in again.

“I…fuck.” You grab onto his arm as he nibbles on the flesh that became more and more sensitive with every second that his lips spent on it. “Hmm?” He hummed against your skin. “I didn’t catch that.” He tilted your head to his left to give him more room. More room to litter you with his markings. “I do…” You inhale sharply when he bites the area under the bruising skin he just sucked on. “…too.” He soothes the imprinted skin with his index and middle fingers.

“Good. Tell me, sweet girl, what’s your favorite time of day?” The movement of his fingers slowed, as he pressed gently on the sore parts. His gaze focused intensely on your peaceful features as sighs escaped your lips with every delicate prod of his fingers. He hoped you would say nighttime, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you all the daytime with him that you wished for. Also, nighttime would be the time he would spend with you, making sure you were feeling every good thing you could feel. Happiness, pleasure, excitement, pleasure, love, satisfaction, security, domination, care, submission. You know? The good things.

“Nighttime. That’s my favorite time of day.” He smiled, satisfied with your answer. “It’s my favorite now, too.” The movement of his fingers on your neck stopped. He looked outside at the moon, remembering the important work he left behind when he decided to look for you. “I should get going.” You frowned slightly which he quickly took notice of. “I know, I wish I didn’t have to, but I ditched a lot of my work to come find you.”

You dragged your thumb across his half-swollen lips before closing the space between you two and kissing him once more. You released him and said in a whisper,“I understand. Thank you for being here with me tonight.” You got off of his lap and transitioned to a cross-legged position on your bed. He caressed your cheek in an endearing manner, before saying,”I’m glad things are the way they are for us now.” He let you go, and began walking to your door. You fixed your shirt so that you looked presentable again.

“Levi, wait.” “Yes?” He asked, holding onto the doorknob. “Did you take the straps from my uniform off of me?” He let out a low chuckle. “Yes, I did. They would have bruised your beautiful skin if I hadn’t taken them off.” “I could have done it myself, but thank you for that.” You felt cared for. It was such a soft concept to think about. He nodded and continued his exit, a small smile on his face as he shut the door behind him.

I’m the only one who should be wrapped around you and leaving marks in those areas at night.

[obeymeluv]

Quick! Kiss Me! [Part 3 - Mammon]

Same rules apply from Part 2: thoughts are italicized and bolded. May be slightly NSFW because the boys have a crush on you and such. If anyone has suggestions for Asmo’s part or Belphie’s, I’m down to hear it. I kind of have one for Belphie but I feel it’s a little cliché.

Also, I’ve logged back in and started playing Obey Me! since I have a three day weekend and the “Are You Kidding Me?!” event is making me want to write those baby headcanons. Might do that next.

Mammon:

You’d been following a buzzing, bubbling sensation around the house. It was enough to make your teeth rattle at points and you wondered if one of the brothers were using shadow magic to stay on the fringes of your vision (or just out of it). Sometimes it would feel like you were right on top of it, your whole body feeling like loose change in a can, and just as quickly it would stop. The cold wash of going the wrong way was a welcome reprieve.

Exhausted, feeling like you’d lapped the house several times, you dragged yourself back to your bedroom. It wasn’t very romantic but at this point you’d had it! The only thing your poor brain could think of was texting them one by one and just kissing them. If you were honest with yourself, you wouldn’t even need to text all seven. If you were really honest with yourself, you just wanted to text one of them.

And he was in your bed, cuddled into your pillows and half-wrapped in your sheets like he was supposed to be there.

Was he asleep?

You resisted the urge to stomp your foot or startle Mammon awake. His jacket was tossed haphazardly over your small desk chair but his sunglasses had been placed with care on your nightstand. Mammon? You placed on knee on the bed, planning to crawl towards him from the opposite corner. Mammon tended to wake up swinging and flailing; you remembered Belphie yanking him off of “his” spot on the couch but not before he’d fluffed his pillow and took a defensive stance.

Your little brain tap was enough to make him snort and stretch but not open his eyes. Tanned limbs dragged themselves across twisted sheets. He sounded like he’d mumbled something but you couldn’t be sure. You were sure he’d scooped up another pillow to stuff his face in and squeeze to death.

Was that a giggle? Mammon gave a contented little hum, snuggling his face into the new, cool pillow. Mammon! you tried again. It was weird to speak with your brain. Could you raise your voice just by thinking it? You froze in the middle of the bed, Mammon snapping up with a slow blink and a confused slur (and a huffy demon gurgle).

If he wasn’t hugging the pillow, he probably would’ve swung his arms out or fallen out the bed and taken half the sheets with him. Mammon blinked again, his white brows furrowing as he scanned the room. He leaned forward and you barely remembered how utterly blind he was as you watched the sleep lift from blue-yellow eyes.

“So who was the lucky—“ Mammon started off in his fake ‘I’m not interested’ tone but the words died out before he could make them any more indifferent. “Your lips are still sealed shut.” he lurched forward, your noses practically touching. “Your lips are still sealed shut!” he whispered again breathlessly, the quickness of his words matching the excited pulse in his throat.

Mammon’s heart squeezed in his chest. His mouth dried and suddenly he couldn’t think of anything to say. This wasn’t how he thought your first kiss would be but Diavolo be damned if he’d turn it down! The demon could barely filter his desire for you, trying to keep the YES! GIMME! KISS ME, KISS ME! in his head and out of yours. His face started to heat up when the pact mark on your shoulder glowed a soft golden color, painting both of your faces in a candlelight-like glow.

The tiniest part of his awed brain could feel his mouth slipping open in shock. You were a vision with golden highlights. Golden highlights from his pact mark! It made him want to take you on a fancy restaurant date and see it again.

Mammon? you were waiting on him now, ever so careful. So considerate. That’s what he loved about you. You put up with a lot of his walls and his loud behavior but deep down you knew. He knew you knew, and he was glad you kept his secret.

The people who made the loudest echoes were often the most fragile. He was a giving heart that had been corrupted against his will, and he had not totally hardened with the fall. You saw those scars and chips and cracks and somehow healed all of it with your human hands. With your smile. Your touch.

Hell, you just saying his name could wipe centuries of suffering from his mind.

“Was I your first choice?” Mammon’s voice turned raspy and tight. He couldn’t bear to hear you say you’d gone to one of the others first. He’d seen you going from room to room, slinking around the house in a way only the second-eldest could master. Years of trying to slip out past curfew and make off with a few odds and ends no one would miss without getting caught had its perks. Watching you touch doors and turn halls gutted him and drove him to seek refuge in your room.

He’d consoled himself amongst your pillows—your scent—and tried not to cry. Even if you didn’t choose him, he’d still have you as a friend. Maybe an in-law. That didn’t stop the cold twisting in his guts or the burning anguish in his chest as he realized over and over that he was one of seven. The other six were better than him, he feared. He was just scummy, scummy Mammon.

You don’t think you are? You tilted your head as you looked at him, hands coming up to comb gently through his hair and massage the bottom of his ears. Your hands smoothed down his neck, drawing him into a hug that was just…very you. Comforting and genuine and wholesome. He felt it first physically, then emotionally as your pact mark burned a little brighter.

You dummy, it was so light, so teasing and gentle that Mammon couldn’t help but smile as you cupped his face and brought his lips up to yours. “Of course you’re my first choice. You’re my first man, aren’t you?”

Mammon realized you said that with your mouth--your open mouth—and he exploded into a rolling yayayayaya victory warble. His eyes were a molten yellow, almost as bright as Diavolo’s (maybe brighter). Tears beaded in his eyes and Mammon blinked them away, stuffing his face into your neck as he tackled you to the bed. A burst of heat rolled over you as his horns came out a hot skin touched yours, the demon greedily snuggling into like he’d finally found his home.

He was scenting you with all his snuggling and ‘settling’ but you didn’t mind, patting his back and running your fingertips across the seams in his black jacket. In all his ‘settling’ you’d been turned onto your side and scooped up by him. Mammon locked his arms around you, feet tangling with yours. He’d tucked you under his chin to keep you away from his horns. “I can’t believe you took so long!” he whined, fingers playing with your hair, “making me wait like that! I’m a busy guy, you know?”

“I can take your place if you’re so busy!” you saw a hint of Asmo in the doorway and probably Levi behind him before Mammon’s wing blocked your view. They’d been called by the noise Mammon made earlier.

“Get lost, the lot of ya!” Mammon flapped his free wing at them. He hugged you closer and you briefly wondered if this what a dragon did with their hoard. You laughed at the thought. “This is my human! And my human is spending time with their first man!” he’d made a little tent out of his wing, peeking down at you with pride and love and a little hesitancy that begged you to back him up because his embarrassment was outweighing his ability to run his smart mouth.

You responded by kissing his chest, little kitten kisses that climbed his throat and jaw and could definitely be heard with demon ears. Popping out from just under his wing, you pecked his lips. His nose just to catch him off guard. “It’s very personal time.” you teased, rubbing his shoulders as his wing unfolded to show you off, sitting happily atop your man.

There were scowls and little demon grumbles you’d never be able to understand, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t even hear them over the sound of Mammon’s purr.

[miyagihawk]

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Cobra Kai oneshot or head cannon where the reader is dating one of the boys and instead of Miguel falling during the fight it was the reader?❤️”

hiiii thank you for the request! this one’s gonna be a miguel one :)

should’ve been me | miguel diaz x reader

warnings: not much, just a bit of swearing i think. reader is in a coma???

summary: miguel is your boyfriend and you’re the one who fell during the school fight

Maybe you should’ve just stayed out of it. You don’t know one thing about fighting. But how could you just stand and watch your boyfriend getting punched over and over again?

It turned out to be the worst decision you’ve ever made: trying to pull Robby off of Miguel.

Because they were both too angry to see it was all going too far.

Because Robby didn’t think that much about pushing you away; he was too focused on delivering punches.

Because the railing was just too close.

It was all slow motion. Miguel running to the edge, yelling your name. Screams and gasps coming from the students who were watching.

All you could see was Miguel, the boy you love, looking down at you as you fell through the air. It felt like you were falling for a lifetime with your eyes locked on his, until you met the ground and everything turned black.

There was only the sound of Miguel’s steps ringing through the hall as he ran down the stairs towards your body. He kneeled down beside you, his heart breaking when he saw the peaceful expression on your face.

“Y/N? No, no, no. No, wake up, Y/N. Please, I’m sorry,” he touched your face, and his tears were falling down on you.

He cried out in heartbreak at the sight of you so lifeless, with no care of everyone watching. The paramedics had to carry him away from you as they laid you on the stretcher.

-

Your muscles ached and you felt as if your legs would give out any moment. The sky was an apocalyptic red in the lonely desert you were in, and even though you couldn’t see the sun, you could still feel its treacherous heat.

You don’t know how long you’ve been walking through this desert, but you were losing hope with every step you took. You must’ve been trudging on for hundred of miles, but everything around you looked the same; you can’t help but wonder if you were even moving at all.

The only thing that kept you going was his voice and the light.

Miguel.

He sounded sad. And when you kept going, it’s as if you heard him clearer. Once you heard him start to talk, you ran. Even if everything hurt, you ran, because you seemed to hear him better when you went towards the light in front of you. You pushed until you couldn’t breathe, collapsing on the dry sand, but feeling close to him was worth it.

“I’m sorry,” he would cry. “It should’ve been me, Y/N. This is my fault. What do I do without you? If you can hear me, please wake up. Don’t give up okay? I love you so much.”

“I love you!” you would try to yell back, but your voice was gone.

It was an endless torture, following the light, and the only thing that kept you going was the hope of seeing Miguel again.

-

You didn’t know when you fell asleep; perhaps you passed out from exhaustion. But you woke up in a different world.

The vicious red clouds above you were starting to float away, revealing a clear blue sky. The dead air was gone, and you could feel a fresh breeze blow through your hair.

The light. It was right in front of you. So close you could reach out and touch it.

“I love you, Y/N,” you heard Miguel’s voice ring through your ears as you stepped through to the unknown.

You gasped, your eyes shooting open as you took in your new surroundings. A white bright light made you flinch and there were tubes attached to your arms. There was a beeping noise piercing your ears and dozens of bouquets in vases were placed on the blue floor, leaving a strong floral scent in the air.

You felt yourself starting to breathe frantically, realizing that you were in the hospital and that you just came from your worst nightmare. 

You felt your hand being grabbed and you pulled away in fright. “You’re awake,” the person said from beside you, making you turn your head towards them.

It was him. Miguel. The one thing you held onto.

He looked so different. He had bags under his eyes, and his hair was longer than it’s ever been. He just looked so tired, and it made you panic, because you wondered how long you’ve even been out.

Your eyes watered as you threw your arms around him. After feeling so lonely in the coma, you dreamed of holding him. The both of you cried in each other’s arms with endless worry about the other, but you were so happy to just see him after the hell you just went through.

“I love you. I heard everything you said and it was what kept me going. It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not,” you spoke, grasping him tighter. He was crying too, and you’ve never seen him this emotional; it broke your heart.

He shook his head, “It was, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I-I really thought I lost you, and it would’ve been on me. This whole Cobra Kai thing was-”

“Just stop, okay? It was an accident, don’t do that to yourself. I’m fine,” you cut him off, pulling away from the hug to wipe your tears. Your back was starting to hurt and it sent you painful flashbacks of the fall, making you wince at the memory.

Nurses started flooding into the room along with your parents, and Miguel had to leave.

“So how long was I out?” you asked the nurse who was checking your vitals. You were scared to face the question, if you were being honest. Because you had no idea what the answer was.

“Three months, honey,” she answered softly. You blinked away the tears that wanted to surface at her response.

Three whole months. You were gone. You didn’t want to be dramatic, but missing a piece of your life, even if it’s small, felt terrible. Because your family worried about you for three months. Because Miguel worried and your friends worried and now you probably can’t walk normally and-

The more you thought about everything, the more you felt like throwing up from anxiety.

As if the nurse could sense your stress, she talked to you, “You see those flowers?”

She gestured over to the crazy amount of bouquets that were on the floor because they couldn’t fit on the table anymore. You nodded in response while she took your blood pressure. Her presence was very calming, and she had a wise energy around her that put you at ease.

“He brought you some every single time he visited. Poor Albert at the flower shop downstairs is probably sick of him,” she joked. “You are very loved.”

She didn’t even need to say his name for you to know who she was talking about. You felt yourself smiling at the sweet gesture, looking at the range of flowers. Most of them were your favorite color and some were his. But there were every kind; you told him that you don’t have a favorite flower because they’re all pretty.

“Did you feel anything?” the nurse asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “While you were... out,” she clarified.

“Uh... no. I didn’t,” you answered, still puzzled.

She gently touched your forehead with the tip of her finger. “He left you so many kisses. Right here. And you said you didn’t feel it but I know you did, because you’re awake. I’ve treated patients like you for many years, and as cheesy as it sounds, love is the best medicine. You got a good one sweetheart,” she smiled softly at you.

“I did,” you agreed, looking through the small window of the door to see where Miguel stood waiting with your parents. You caught his eye, feeling warm when he gave you a happy grin.

Everything going wrong only showed you that he was the one, and even a coma couldn’t separate you.

A/N: this was a mess i am so sorry my writing is ass lately i just don’t know why :/

[woniepop]

feel special ༉‧₊˚✧

➜ the three times you didn’t want to be Karl’s best friend any more and the one time you weren’t

Pairing: Karl Jacob’s x Fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, best friends to lovers au, enemies to lovers au

Warnings: Mentions of bullying, cursing

Word Count: 2.0k words

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for a mcyt streamer, but unfortunately I will not be writing works for more streamers anytime soon. This is for my lovely friend basil Ly and losingvienna’s follower event, which you should definitely check out of you are in to mcyt streamers!!

I highly recommend checking @basilly and @losingvienna out if you haven’t already!!

Ever since you met Karl, you’ve hated everything about him. He was sweet, he was caring, he was everything you’ve ever wanted in anyone. From the moment he stepped foot in your kindergarten your life had become a living hell. He was great! You on the other hand, had never felt more miserable in your life. It had never occurred to you that being different was a bad thing, but apparently, to your whole kindergarten class of 26 kids, it was terrible. But, somehow, amidst the screaming kids and the poorly colored art projects, Karl only saw you.

Your fellow kindergarten classmates stared at you, perhaps a bit too judgingly, as you sat down in your seat. Feeling super excited to come to school today, your grandma has recently gotten you your very own pink sundress, equipped with a pink satin ribbon to tie a cute little bow in the back. You wanted your classmates to like you, so you had to be the prettiest you could ever be. 

“Why are you wearing a dress to school? Do you think you’re a princess?” one of the children say, rather, shout across the room. And with that, the whole class starts laughing, except you. 

“What? Are you trying to impress someone?”

“OOO Y/N HAS A CRUSH!”

“I bet it’s Karl”

“Of course it is. She just wants to daaaaaaate him, doesn’t she?”

With tears welling up in your eyes and boogers dripping down your nose, you quickly stand up just to take the hall pass and run to the nearest bathroom. It was humiliating, feeling like you had tried so hard to make friends just to get laughed at. It felt terrible. 

You were NOT excited for your first day of high school. Why would you be? It was just another year of “light hearted” jokes about you and how you were “so different.” Settling with a seat in the back, you tilt your head down only for the teacher to walk in right after. 

“Good morning, students! Welcome to your first day of Freshman Year! I’m sure you’re all very excited for these next four years, but before that why don’t we all introduce ourselves to each other!” The teacher says, in a high pitch, peppy voice. You had stopped listening to her after that. You already knew what was going to happen, you were going to be paired up with some immature male football player looking for a tall, hot, and blonde cheerleader girlfriend, then he was going to say something stupid like, “Girls like you aren’t really my type.” No shit you weren’t his type. It happened every year. Feeling a light tap on your shoulder, you force your head up, preparing yourself for the dreadful introduction. 

“Hi! I believe we’re partners for the All About Me project. May I sit here?” he says, pointing to the chair beside you. He, as in Karl Jacobs. The Karl Jacobs. The man, the myth, the legend, the boy that filled your entire life with “She just wants to date Karl. She’s such an attention whore.” With that, your eyes widen. You weren’t expecting him, nor were you ever this mad about anything in your life. You didn’t want to know anything about him, let alone do a whole project learning about him. 

“Yeah, you can sit there.” You answer through clenched teeth. 

“Thanks! I’m pretty sure we’re not going to be able to finish this within the period considering there are like 30 questions, so did you want to work on this in the library after school?” he asks.

“Sure.” You say promptly, not even bothering to make eye contact with him. 

“I believe we went to the same elementary school, but I haven’t really gotten the chance to talk to you, so I’m glad we got to be partners for this project. I’m excited to get to know you.” He says, a glint of hope in his eyes. You hated it. Was he actually being nice? To you? 

The rest of the period would have been answering all the questions on the list, but instead you guys had been side tracked, going off topic and talking about anything and everything. Putting aside your hatred for the boy, Karl seemed like a genuinely nice person. You had learned he loved gaming, which he was surprised you had a knack for as well. 

“Well, Y/n, I’m sorry we couldn’t get a lot done this period. But, I’ll see you at the library later, and maybe we can even try out that new game you talked about tonight.” He says, standing up out of his chair and leaving the classroom. Maybe today wouldn’t be too bad after all.

ONE “Move!” you say, playfully shoving Karl off of you. It was the summer before your senior year, and you would have never guessed that you, Y/n L/n, would be spending your whole high school career with the boy you loathed most, Karl Jacobs. If there was ever anything you'd ever looked forward to, it was spending every Friday night with Karl Jacobs. That fateful day at the library was the start of the best tradition ever known to man. 

“But we’re watching a movie!” Karl exclaims. 

“So? You don’t need to watch it while squishing me half to death.”

“What do you mean? Have you ever heard of CUDDLING?” 

“Cuddling has never consisted of MURDER.” 

It was always like this. Every Friday night Karl would come to your house, your mom would gush at how handsome he was while she set a plate down of whatever food he wanted, and him telling her that she was the best cook ever. This is what you’ve always wanted, right? You had a best friend, who accepted you as you were, and you him. Despite always having heartwarming and laughter filled moments with your best friend, your heart hurt. A lot. Maybe the moment was just too heartwarming, or maybe this was the universe telling you that you didn’t want to be his friend anymore. 

TWO “Hey, Karl!” she says. Ah, yes. Her. Karl’s childhood crush since what? Fourth grade? 

“Oh, um, Hi!” He replies. There it was. That dreadful pain in your chest that only grew bigger as she sat down right next to him, disregarding the fact that you were sitting right there. The way she twirled her long blonde hair, the way she leaned over to show all of her cleavage, the way she wore skirts so short you could almost see her underwear, and the way it made your blood boil and your heart hurt until you couldn’t handle it anymore. You wanted to walk away so bad, but as Karl’s best friend you should support him in his romantic interests, even if you didn’t like them. 

“So… I’m sure you’ve heard already. I broke up with my boyfriend.” she says, tracing her finger up and down his arm, making him noticeably very nervous.

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m always here.” You hear him say. Of course he was always here. He was there for everyone, and he would never try to exclude anyone from his kindness. 

“I broke up with him because of you!”

“W-what”

“I want to be with you, silly!” she says. And with that, you felt your whole world go black and white. Did you hear her correctly? She wanted to be with him?

“I- I’m sorry, I can’t be with you.” 

“WHAT?!? BUT I BROKE UP WITH MY BOYFRIEND JUST TO BE WITH YOU!”

“Well I’m sorry, but I love someone else. You should’ve consulted me before you threw away your relationship.”

Did you hear HIM correctly? He loves someone? You couldn’t take it anymore and excused yourself. Yet again, you ran to the bathroom feeling the same pain in your chest only 10 times worse. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore. Not like this.

THREE “I can’t believe you’re moving to California, Y/n” Karl says as he pushes his hair back, sighing in disbelief. “You’re really going to leave me?” He continues, tears welling up in his eyes as he turns to look at you with his signature puppy eyes. 

“I have to! It’s always been my dream to go to college there!” You reply, feeling guilty for leaving behind everything for your dream. 

“But I’ll miss you!” he says, fully knowing facetime exists, and you would always visit him during breaks. 

“I’ll miss you too! But, I need to do this. Can you stay strong? For me?” you ask, cupping his face with your left hand. You had gone on one of your late night drives again, parking in an empty parking lot as you have deep late night conversations. Today’s topic happened to be college, and while it had been always known you were moving across the country after high school, the day was coming closer and it all felt too real.

 As Karl leans his face into your hand, he lets out a yawn. “I guess it’s time to go back then.” you say.

“No, I don’t want to. I have to spend every second with you until you leave.” he whines. You wanted to as well, but then, there it was. The stinging in the back of your heart. You were tired of it. You hated feeling this way. You didn’t want to be Karl’s friend anymore.

THE END The warm summer air blew past you as you and Karl sit atop your roof, staring into the distance in the comfortable silence that was there from the moment Karl got to your house. Neither of you had spoken a word but neither of you cared. You just wanted to be with him. What would’ve made the night perfect was if you weren’t getting on the plane the very next morning, moving across the country. 

Building up as much courage as you could, you said the three words you’ve been wanting to say ever since you had become friends. You were leaving, but before that you wanted more than anything else to let him know this. “I love you.” You say, causing his eyes to go wide. You… loved him? That was impossible. 

“Yeah, I love you too.” He says casually. 

“No. I love you more than in a friendly way.” You reply.

“Really? Why?” He asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know. Maybe it was because you were my first friend, but it’s definitely because you’re you. I’ve been bullied almost my whole life, and you know that. But, no matter how the world brings me down, and even when hurtful words stab me, I can smile again. Because you’re there.” You say, tears rolling down your face. You pause, before continuing on about how much he means to you. “I mean, my whole life, one moment I feel like I’m nothing at all. Like no one would notice if I were gone. But then you came! And I was so happy. Or maybe it’s cause you make me feel loved. But when I’m with you, I feel so special.” 

And with that, Karl makes no hesitation in cupping your cheeks, silently wiping away your tears. In that moment, he decides that he doesn't want to be your friend anymore either. Leaning in, he whispers, “I love you too.” before he crashes his lips onto yours.

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Resurrect Me (N.R.)

Warnings: swearing; death; Hell/the Underworld; cliff jumping lol

Word Count≈ 3.1k (yikes lol my bad)

Hecate一 the goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, the moon, ghosts, and necromancy. Known to be an intricate mosaic of good and evil, destruction and beauty. Capable of granting wishes, summoning the dead, resurrections, teleportation, warping realities on unfathomable scales, mind control, energy manipulation, and any sorcery or magic known to the Gods. Second only to Zeus himself.

I am the human embodiment of Hecate. I am not Hecate; she merely resides in the depths of my soul and provides me guidance. We do not communicate through words; she speaks through dreams and gut feelings, and sometimes even through signs in the outside world. I have not mastered the powers she’s granted me, nor have I reached my full potential. In addition to the Goddess’ powers, I hold the basic Olympian powers, such as superhuman speed and stamina. I have no recollection of how I merged with Hecate or the life I lived before this point, and she has provided me with no answers, but I do not question her motives. 

Agent Phil Coulson came across me in my temple in Turkey. Apparently, he had discovered strange energy readings coming from the temple. When he arrived, I used the power of energy manipulation to blow the concrete off of me, and that is the first thing I remember一 emerging from underneath Hecate’s temple.

I joined the Avengers during the Battle of New York. Agent Coulson had recommended me to Fury when he was piecing together the Avengers Initiative. In the three years between my awakening and the invasion, I practiced my sorcery mercilessly and studied Hecate deep in the Greek countryside. I’ve stuck with the Avengers throughout the years, fighting every battle alongside them. Through the ups and downs, I’ve fallen head over heels for Natasha Romanoff. One would assume that with so much power, I’d be confident and have any mortal begging at my feet. That couldn’t be any more inaccurate, however. As I’ve said, I am not Hecate; I am simply the human embodiment of the goddess. And as a human, I turn into a blushing, stuttering mess whenever the levelheaded assassin is near. Consequently, there have been many years of pining, but I’ve yet to muster up the courage to ask the woman on a date.

In our most recent war, we’ve gone up against a mad titan一 Thanos. We lost terribly. Half of all living things inhabiting the universe were snapped away. I can’t help but ponder whether things would’ve gone differently if I had better mastered my powers. I potentially hold all the capabilities of the goddess of magic; aside from Zeus, I hold more power than any being to ever exist. I’ve practiced my sorcery every day for the past five years on the off chance that we ever get a rematch一 a chance to bring everyone back. I’ve improved significantly, but Hecate has been oddly quiet for the past few years. It’s driving me crazy. I know she’s still there, but she hardly provides an ounce of guidance.

And so, that is where I find myself now一 practicing sorcery in the room specifically designed to isolate me when I use dark magic. Everyone who has access to the training section of the compound knows that they should never enter this room. It is far too dangerous for regular mortals. As I warp the room’s reality, a dark mist envelops me. When it clears, the room has changed into a 50s ballroom. I look down to see an elegant maroon ball gown covering my body, and I scan the empty area. I hear a pair of heels clicking toward me, and I spin around, already panicking. In order for someone to be here with me, they would have to be an inhabitant of the location’s true reality. My eyes land upon the woman I’ve grown to love, dressed up for the event. She is wearing an extravagant light blue ball gown, and her hair is carefully done up. 

“Natasha? What are you doing here?”

“Why I came to dance with you, of course.” She steps closer and drapes her arms around my neck, swaying to the nonexistent music. Stay calm. Don’t panic. There’s no way I’m making her do this. I’m not even doing anything! Of course I’m the one making her do this, who else would it be?! Breathe in. Breathe out. My powers don’t control me. I control them. Just breathe. I can do this. I know how to do this.

As I focus on the magic coursing through my veins, a black mist envelops us, and the room returns to its original form一 a basic training room with black padded walls. I immediately take a large step back from Natasha.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Natasha?! You know you can’t come in here! I could’ve seriously hurt you!”

“I...I’m sorry. I thought you’d just be moving shit with your mind. I didn’t realize you could do...that, whatever that was.”

“That was reality manipulation. I didn’t know you were here and I don’t have full control of it, so you got caught up in it. Are you okay? Do you remember it?”

“Yeah, I remember it clear as day. I was still me and I was still in control, it was just...different, I guess.”

“Well, I literally warped your reality, so even if you felt in control, you might not have been.”

“You stopped it, though. I remember when that seemed impossible. You’re getting better.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck. “What did you come in here for in the first place?”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but Scott Lang is here. We might have a way to bring everybody back.”

“Wait, what? Holy shit. It’s happening. Okay, come on then!” I eagerly walk past her, grabbing her hand as I pass her, and we leave my training room. I realize that I’m still holding her hand as we make it to the meeting room, and I immediately drop it, clearing my throat. If I wasn’t so familiar with the sensation, then I would swear that my ears and cheeks are on fire.

<//>

We all step onto the platform in matching white and red time-travel suits. “We’re really doing this?”

“Hell yeah, we’re doing this,” Clint answers.

“Alright, then. We bring everybody back,” I say with determination. “Whatever it takes,” Steve adds.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha adds with a smirk. Before I can appreciate how beautiful she looks with the glimmer of hope in her eyes, we’re flying through a flurry of colors. Nebula, Natasha, Rhodey, Clint, and I land on Morag. We all say our respective goodbyes before Nat, Clint, and I get on a jet to head to Vormir.

<//>

“A soul for a soul.”

“What? That’s insane. Look, no offense, Mr. Bloody Tampon, but why should we just trust what you’re saying? Because you know their fathers’ names?”

“I didn’t.” I looked into Natasha’s eyes as she spoke and I instantly wish that I could replace the dull sadness with the bright hope that had filled them before.

“He doesn’t know my father’s name. If he’s some mystical being, then why can’t he tell me that?” I turned to face him as I asked the question.

“I’m afraid you are a mystery. I am meant to know everything about any being who seeks the stone, but I know nothing of your identity.”

“Hm. Seems like a load of bullshit to me,” I deadpanned.

“We need to do this. We need to bring everyone back. I’ve spent the past five years trying to reverse the snap, and now I finally know how to fix it. Let me do it.” As Natasha spoke, she grabbed both of my hands in hers.

“And I’ve spent every day for the past five years training to do this. I wasn’t just practicing sorcery and talking to dead people for fun, Nat. All I wanted was to do better一 to fix this. If anyone is jumping off that cliff, it’s gonna be me.”

“No. Absolutely not. Neither of you is dying for that stone. I’ve done horrible things these past few years. I’ve killed...so many people. It should be me,” Clint says, and Natasha and I turn to face him, but one of her hands remains in mine.

“No way in hell, Clint. And not you either, Nat. Both of you guys have families. You’re not sacrificing yourselves. I won’t let you. And you can’t stop me even if you try.” Nat gives me a questioning look as I mention her family and I speak in her head ‘I know about them, Nat. And they need you. She needs her big sister.’

“What are you saying?” I can hear the anxiety lacing Nat’s words, and it causes a pit to form in my stomach.

“I think you know what I’m saying, Natty.” 

“Then you don’t leave me much of a choice.” She shoots a Widow’s Bite toward me, but I stop it using energy manipulation without even having to lift a finger.

“You can’t beat me, Nat. Please, don’t fight me on this.”

“I call bullshit.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clint running toward the edge while we’re distracted, and I teleport in front of him, throwing him backward. I use mind control to force him to stay down. I sense Natasha running toward the edge behind me, and I teleport in front of her. I use energy manipulation to keep her in place, and I grab onto her biceps.

“I’m really sorry, Nat. I hate that I’m doing this to you, but I can’t let you throw yourself off a cliff for some stupid stone. Your life is worth so much more than that. You’re an amazing person, and your ledger was cleared of its red so long ago. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

“This is sounding an awful lot like a goodbye.”

“You can be sarcastic all you want, but I’m not walking out of this one, Natty.”

“Don’t do this. The team needs you.”

“No, they don’t, Nat, and we both know it. They need you.”

“And what if I need you?!”

“Well if that’s the case, you’ll figure it out, just like you always do. Don’t let something like this hold you back. Goodbye, Natasha Romanoff.” I kiss her cheek before turning around. I start walking towards the edge, but it quickly turns into a sprinting pace as I hear Nat screaming for me to stop. Just before I reach the edge, I lift the mind control from Clint and I release Nat, just in case it doesn’t automatically lift when I die. I push myself off the cliff, turning mid-jump so I’m not facing the ground. As I’m falling through the air, I see Clint holding Nat in his arms as her screams fill my ears. I hit the ground and everything goes black.

<//>

“Hello, y/n. It’s good to see you again.” I sat up and一 what the hell is that smell? “Ah, yes. That would be burning flesh. Welcome to Hell, darling.”

“Uh...what? Who are you?”

“Yes, I suppose I should explain, hm? I am Hecate, Goddess of一”

“Yeah, I know what you’re the goddess of. How did I get here?”

“I thought you were smarter than this. You died, obviously.”

“And went to Hell? Damn.”

“Oh, relax. Hell isn’t what the mortals think it is. This is the Underworld. All of the dead reside here. The bad people get punished, the good people don’t. Simple as that. We don’t have a lot of time, so I need to explain. I am cursed; I cannot leave the Underworld. However, my human embodiment can, and that is where you come into play. You hold all my power, and I can see you’ve been practicing, but you’ve never lived up to your full potential.”

“Hey! Rude!”

“Don’t interrupt. I didn’t allow you to live up to your full potential, not until we met, anyway.”

“And I had to die in order for that to happen?”

“Yes. I’m giving you all of my power, but I can still stop you if I ever need to. I know you don’t want to risk hurting the people you love, especially the redhead, but you need to trust yourself. Trust your powers. Have a little faith. You are a goddess, remember. Don’t let people forget it. That purple thumb is nothing compared to you, even with his colorful rocks. Your family needs you now. You must help them.”

“That’s it? Why do they need help? How will I know what to do?”

“I will always be there to help you, Y/N. You can handle this. This is nothing. You are part of me, just as I am part of you. You are my daughter, after all. I should know your capabilities better than anyone.”

“Wait, daughter?!”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Oh well, it doesn’t matter right now, anyway. You need to go.”

“Go where?”

“Home, darling.” 

The earth above us cracks open and I can hear faint sounds of fighting on the surface. I look at Hecate as she nods. Before I even realize I’m doing it, black mist surrounds my body and lifts me through the crack. I step out of the mist onto the ground and a staff appears in my right hand. I tap it once on the ground and my white suit is replaced by an all-black leather outfit that’s definitely made for a goddess. I smirk and make eye contact with the titan across the battlefield. His sickly creatures race toward me as they notice the new threat on the field. I summon an army of ghouls from the cracks in the earth. As the aliens and the undead clash, I teleport in front of Thanos.

“And who might you be, dear?” He acts confident, but I can sense his fear.

“I am Y/N, daughter of Hecate.” He tilts his head in a questioning manner. “Oh, did someone not study mythology? Hm, then let’s be blunt, shall we? I’m a goddess, ass-chin.” I throw my staff at his throat, but he catches it. He moves to swing his large sword at me, but I capture his arm in black mist. When he tries to move the other arm, I restrain that one, as well. “Well, that surely can’t be all you’ve got, hm? Pity, I thought it’d be more exciting than that.” If I were to look in a mirror at that moment, I would’ve noticed my ghostly pale skin, black eyes, and the raw power spreading through my veins like a black road-map.

“It’s not over yet, my dear child.” Before I can question the meaning of his words, an alien tosses him the gauntlet. It slides on his exposed hand, but I hold it open with dark magic. I look around and notice that the army of the undead is nowhere to be seen. My teammates are pinned down, even with the help of those who were snapped. There is a feeling in my gut and a voice in my head that tells me what I must do. I pull the gauntlet off his hand with black mist and slide my hand inside. I feel the power surging into my body. “What are you doing? That power will kill you!” Thanos sounds truly desperate.

“That’s cute. Truly, it is, but you can’t kill someone who’s already dead.” I close my hand and snap my fingers. His army fades to dust and he slumps to the ground before floating away with them. I drop the gauntlet to the ground and look around. Natasha runs toward me and throws her arms around my neck in a firm hug.

“Wha一what happened to you? How are you here? I thought you died!”

I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder before saying, “I did die. I am dead.”

She pulls away and looks at me from head to toe. “Well that explains why you’re so damn pale, but now I have so many more questions.”

“I am Hecate’s daughter, so I am technically a goddess, like her. I’m not sure if I was technically resurrected or not, but I can probably一”

She cut me off with a gentle yet passionate kiss. She pulls away and searches my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” she admits.

“Me too,” I breathe out.

“Yeah, I picked up on that. You’re not very discrete.” I laughed and a smirk spread across her face. “As sexy as this whole ‘powerful goddess’ thing is, am I going to get the old you back? You know, the one who blushes whenever I look at her? The one who’s, like, alive?”

I smile at her and glance down at her lips as a thick black mist appears behind me. I step backward into it as her face morphs into a look of confusion. She disappears from sight as a wall of black fills my vision, and a surge of power spreads throughout my body. I fall to my knees and the black cloud disappears. Natasha rushes over and kneels in front of me. “Are you okay? What the hell was that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think I’m alive again.” I lift my head and meet her eyes.

“Your skin isn’t crazy pale anymore, and your eyes are their normal color again.”

“Sweet.”

“Cool.”

We both crack up and I lean my forehead against hers as our laughter fades.

Tony interrupts our moment of peace. “This is all good and dandy, but does someone wanna explain what the hell just happened?”

I raise my head and look at my teammates一 my family. “I kicked the purple thumb’s ass. That’s what happened.” I can feel a warm presence in my heart, and I know that my mother is with me.

“Yes, yes, I noticed. I also noticed a bunch of demons. Care to explain that one?”

“They weren’t demons...they were just...the souls...of dead people. I can summon the dead. You knew that.”

“Uh, I definitely didn’t know that.” I laugh and shake my head at the eccentric man. 

I stand up, pulling Natasha with me, and bring her into another embrace. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Natty,” I whisper in her ear before pressing a delicate kiss to her temple.

A/N: I literally had this completely finished and edited over a month ago and I hadn’t posted it yet soooooo... idk here it is

[chidoroki]

Tokyo Revengers S3EP2

aka: "travel back" Chifuyu said, "it'll be fine" he said.

Mhhmm I see Yasuhiro looking over once Mitsuya mentioned the Haitaini brothers and Tenjiku.

All this chatter about this S-62 generation is new I believe, at least to me.

Oh, so Mikey recognizes Shion from a previous Black Dragon generation too. Tenjiku really got some famous names for being formed not too long ago.

We’re really heading back to the future so soon? And before the fight? I guess that’s a bit smart but I’m still feeling wary.

At least the travel was successful and Takemichi didn’t return in some high stakes situation like he tends to.

“I hope we can end it this time.” Naoto, I can say with the upmost confidence that ain't happening.

Is Takemichi actually gonna run into Taiju at the church? I’d kinda love to see that.

OH there he is! He’s got a real deep recognizable voice. Looking real fancy and proper too.

I’m actually kinda surprised Taiju is willing to have a chat with Takemichi and Naoto.

Ah, the fancy man owns a whole restaurant now hm?

“The first generation Black Dragon leader was Shinichiro Sano.” Lightbulbs went off in my head but I can’t imagine why. It just makes sense someone like him started such a famous gang.

I can’t imagine Izana being older than Taiju when Taiju is literally built like a truck.

Yeah, Kisaki already being informed of the Kanto Incident before it happened in the past definitely raises some flags.

I have a hard time believing Toman and Tenjiku merge after the fight but if Kisaki is pulling the strings like he did with Valhalla then I suppose it’s possible.

Oh great, so if Izana helped fake Kisaki’s death here in the future, that means that bastard is still out there causing mayhem somewhere.

“But I do know that Manjiro Sano had even greater trust in Izana Kurokawa than in Ken Ryuguji.” Hello?? Why! I call bs.. unless it’s because of the whole family thing.

Well, at least we finally found Koko and Inui.

I know Taiju said he had some ill feelings towards this Toman, but it would be still be quite entertaining to see him take down his two former subordinates. And if it grants some time for Takemichi to escape then I’m all for some hard hitting support from Taiju.

Goddamn.. had I known that seeing Taiju fight on our side was all it was gonna take for my mind to change about I would’ve been kinder to him last season.

Bruh, Takemichi, don’t head back and waste the chance Taiju gave you to escape! Are we gonna head back and see Taiju actually dead or something?

NOPE EVEN WORSE! Now Kisaki has Takemichi held at gunpoint! Ya see? You should've kept running, you fool!

Naoto! Fuck! How the hell is Takemichi gonna travel back and forth if you die here??

“You guys killed my Mikey.” Ah, no wonder Izana wants them dead.

For fucks sake, we got Kakucho pulling up here too?

Oh shit, the dude actually shot our boy! Y’all better hold hands quick so Takemichi can get another redo!

“Death really is frightening, isn’t it?” Damn, this is really gonna be the last time huh?

Ahh new ending though, let’s go! Loving the black and white with little sprinkles of color so far.

Ah! There! Young Izana and Emma!

Oh now the ending really spoiled Yasuhiro and Sanzu joining Tenjiku. The OP did the same but in all fairness it was kinda poorly lit.

And there they go making the whole connection between Emma, Mikey, Izana and Shinichiro more obvious as well.

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Love is in the Lines

Nesta Archeron x Cassian - Tattoo Convention Oneshot

Nesta loses Cassian at a tattoo convention.

Written for Nessian month. @illyrianet

Prompt 1: Tattoo Artist

Prompt 2: We came to the…together, and now you’re lost.

Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

2319 words

*******

“Cassian, I swear to the mother, when I find you…” Nesta grumbled to herself for the fourth, no it was the fifth, time in the last twenty minutes.

She pushed through the herds of people crowding the aisle, trying her best to scour every booth for her missing boyfriend.

One moment, he had been standing behind her waiting as she scrutinized a certain design, the next, she turned back around, and he had disappeared.

Deciding she wasn’t going to find him in this row, she turned the corner and began walking down the next aisle starting her search over again.

If she was lucky, she would spot his massive frame sticking out above the clusters of people, but so far luck wasn’t on her side because she’d been walking around the convention hall for almost half an hour now searching for him. Nesta passed each booth looking at the artists and the customers, but they were all strangers.

Getting to the end, she took one last scan over the heavily tattooed convention-goers—most having several visible piercings in their ears, noses, and sporadic other places on the face that she thought would be excruciating to pierce—and wondered what the hell she was doing.

Sighing heavily, Nesta turned and started walking down the next aisle.

Two years ago, if someone had told Nesta she would be wandering around a tattoo convention, she would’ve laughed in their face at the absurdity of it.

A year ago, she’d have rolled her eyes and said that even her ink-covered boyfriend who made her realized she didn’t hate all tattoos, wouldn’t have been able to convince her to spend a day surrounded by the buzzing machines and colorfully covered patrons.

Last week, she considered it.

Being with Cassian had made her learn a lot about herself; one of those things being the fact that she found all of his ink incredibly attractive.

There was something about the way the ink stood out on his tanned skin that made it look like it was supposed to be there. She couldn’t even imagine her boyfriend without his tattoos. The one time she tried, she made a mental image of his arms without the swirling geometric designs and his back without the large bat-like wings, not to mention all the other little designs he had strewn across his body suddenly gone—and she was surprised to find herself dismayed at the lack on ink.

One night, when Nesta was idly tracing some of the lines across his chest, she confessed to Cassian that she wanted to get a small tattoo of her own.

At first, he had been shocked. As much as she loved his designs, he knew she still looked at most people’s tattoos with distaste. In her words, “most of the tattoos I see look like someone stumbled into a shop at four in the morning, drunk out of their mind, and picked out the first thing they saw. And the artist just went with it.”

But Nesta listened whenever he talked about his own designs; about how they all meant something to him. How every design held a memory. Every time he looked at them—whether he was intentionally studying them or when he caught a glimpse of one out of the corner of his eye—he would think about why he got it. Each tattoo made him remember a story, or a person, or some sort of inspiration.

They were reminders, self-expressions, and memories.

Even the one he got when he and his brothers were wasted and thought getting matching tattoos—done by each other, of course—was an amazing idea. He always pointed out that particular tattoo whenever Nesta explained her disdain for the “impulsive permanent decisions” saying that even though the design isn’t great, every time he looks at it he laughs and thinks of the great time he has when he’s with his brothers.

So when Nesta told him she wanted to get a tattoo, Cassian was more than surprised. But as soon as his shock wore off, he got the broadest smile on his face and immediately started asking her questions. What did she want? How long had she wanted one? Color or Black and White? Where on her body? Question after question, and Nesta was glad that Cassian had been thrilled.

Smirking, she remembered what he had told her when she asked him if he thought she would look good with a tattoo.

“Good?” She’d never seen him look more ravenous, already picturing what she would look like with ink covering her body. He cupped her face and looked into her eyes. “Nes, sweetheart, you are already so gorgeous, but, fuck,” he groaned, “you would look so fucking stunning that I don’t know how I’d ever be able to keep my hands off you.”

Then he made sure to show her just how much he liked the idea of tattoos covering her body, using his tongue to trace potential designs across every inch of her skin.

The next day, Cassian showed Nesta the poster for the tattoo convention happening soon which brought dozens of artists together to showcase their work and allow for people to get tattoos done, and admire the different aesthetics and designs.

When Nesta agreed to go with him, she made it very clear she was just looking for inspiration. It was practical, she reasoned, to go to see all kinds of designs in one place so she could get a sense of what exactly she wanted.

She figured he would be attached to her side, wanting to show her everything and point out his favorites.

The last thing she expected was to lose Cassian in the crowd.

Nesta finished eyeing another row of booths, still no sign of her missing, infuriating, boyfriend.

“C’mon Nesta, he said” she muttered as she walked. “It’ll be fun, he said. You’ll get inspired and I’ll be right there with you, he said.”

Nesta just about turned the corner when a booming laugh caught her attention. Zeroing in on the sound she caught sight of Cassian—well, his hair really. The long, dark, wavy strands were pulled up into a bun on top of his head, making his strong jawline covered in artfully groomed stubble stand out.

Nesta sometimes found it hard to stay mad at Cassian because no matter what she was upset about, he always found a way to make her smile. Even unintentionally. Like right now, part of her wanted to strangle him for vanishing on her and making her scour the convention hall for him, but hearing the sound of his laugh softened her and she allowed herself to smile at him before quickly schooling her features and making her way over to where he was sitting.

Sitting.

He was sitting in a reclining chair while the booth’s tattoo artist leaned over him to draw a new piece of artwork on his skin.

Nesta was going to kill him. Seething, she marched towards him.

He brought her here, he disappeared, and then he went off to get a new tattoo—without her.

Cassian’s eyes lit up as he spotted her. “Nes! Check it out, look who’s here.”

For the first time, Nesta looked at who exactly was inking her boyfriend.

“Az?” She blinked, momentarily losing her frustration. “I didn’t know you would be here.”

Azriel dipped his needle into the ink again and let out a low chuckle. Once he deemed enough ink was added, he gave Nesta a rueful smile. “I assumed this one,” he nodded at Cass who was still grinning at her “would show up today, but I thought I could get a couple of hours of actual clients before he took over my booth. I didn’t expect to see you here, though” Azriel concentrated on tracing another line but raised an eyebrow in her general direction.

“Yeah, well, this one,” she imitated Azriel’s tone and nodded at Cassian, “wanted to show me what one of these conventions was like, but apparently he decided it was better to run off and get another tattoo.”

Setting her bag down, Nesta sunk into the chair beside Cassian and crossed her arms.

“I’ve been wandering around for more than thirty minutes looking for you, asshole”

Az snorted, but didn’t comment, just kept drawing something that Nesta couldn’t quite see.

“Aw babe, don’t be mad,” Cassian leaned over as best he could and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she could turn away. Not that she didn’t want a kiss from him, but she was still upset at his antics. “You were so absorbed looking at that lady’s designs I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

Nesta’s anger melted a little at that. They had been walking around for a while when Nesta spotted a particular design she liked. She dragged Cassian over to a booth hosted by a woman whose arms were covered in colorful images and had her hair pulled back in a bright bandanna. She had a handful of binders on the table filled with designs and photos of healed artwork.

It was the minimalistic stack of books that had caught Nesta’s eye from across the aisle. She followed the single line as it swirled around creating the image. She must have been more lost in thought than she realized if Cassian deemed it best not to interrupt her.

“And,” He gave her a wide grin, “I hoped I could find Az and convince him to tattoo me for free.”

Rolling her eyes at Cass’ satisfied look and Az’s long-suffering one, she watched as people passed by the booth. Some looked through the design books, others paused to watch for a moment as Az worked. Turning back to face Cassian, she saw he was already looking at her.

“Fine. I’m still annoyed, though.” She leaned in closer, “What are you getting?”

Now Cassian’s face turned a little nervous. He still looked excited and happy and keen in the way he always looked when he watched her, but now he started to look a little worried, too.

“Before you freak out or get angry, let me explain.”

Nesta’s mind immediately went to worst-case scenarios. What could he be getting that he thought she would be angry? What would Azriel agree to ink that she should be upset about? Was it—

“Great way to start.” Azriel muttered from Cassian’s other side.

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes and turned back to Nesta just as she stood up and walked around to peer over Azriel’s shoulder.

Az was putting the finishing touches on but she could see exactly what the image was.

It was delicate ‘N’ on the inner edge of his wrist.

Nesta didn’t say anything—couldn’t say anything—she just stared at the design now permanently etched into her boyfriend’s skin.

Cassian cleared his throat and Azriel backed away to put his needles down and give them a moment of privacy. As much privacy as they could have in the small booth.

“It’s an N,” Obviously. “For you.” Obviously.

Nesta couldn’t drag her gaze away from the letter. All her anger and frustration faded away. She forgot how irritated she was with him, how upset she had been when she turned around and he was gone. She forgot the instant jolt of panic she felt when she thought she had lost him.

Nesta took in each line and curve of the tattoo and felt such an overwhelming feeling of love for this crazy, impulsive, wonderful man.

“You…” She finally looked up to see him watching her face carefully.

“What do you think?” He waited for her to say something, but after a moment of silence, he started rambling. “Is it too much? Do you like it? You don’t like it. It’s too much. If you don’t like it I can change it. I mean, I can see if Az can change it. I could get it covered up—”

“No!”

Nesta grabbed his worried face in her hands and kissed him fiercely. She tried to pour everything she was feeling into that kiss, and make him know that she did like it, she loved it. She loved him.

“No, don’t cover it up.” She pressed her forehead to his before pulling back and intertwining their fingers, using her grip to lift his arm to get a better view.

“So, you do like it?” A slow smile appeared on his face.

Nodding softly, she told him, “I do.” Nesta swallowed, another rush of emotion hitting her. “You really wanted to get something for me inked onto you? These things last forever you know.” She tried to make a joke, but she was still feeling overwhelmed.

She almost couldn’t believe that he wanted a piece of her, something to remind him of her constantly and forever. It was insane; totally impulsive and unbelievable, but the sweetest most loving gesture anyone had ever done for her.

Cassian used his fingers to tilt her chin up so he could look her in the eye. “Of course I wanted to. Every time I’ll see it, I’ll think of you.”

She kissed him again.

Breaking apart, Nesta slowly moved her finger around the letter, careful not to brush it and hurt him.

“Why here?”

He forced her to meet his stare as he said, “I wanted it over my pulse point because my heart beats for you.”

He kissed her this time and put everything he had into it. She brought one hand around behind his head, the other rested on his chest, and kissed him back with just as much passion.

“That’s so corny” she murmured against his lips

They broke apart, each breathing a bit heavily.

Cassian gave her a cheeky grin and winked.

“You love it. And didn’t you know, sweetheart,” he gave her one more peck on the lips, “we’re gonna last forever, too.”

*****

I know I’ve posted a lot of oneshots recently, but don’t worry, I’m absolutely still working on my longer fics. I’m just taking advantage of the inspiration as it hits me

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading

[kaihavoc]

Is she really just a friend?

a/n: I’m challenging myself to find random prompts and write blurbs to improve my writing and keep the creativity flowing. Title is what the prompt was. Happy reading! Also if you have a request, that’d be cool too :’)

“You can't just do that!” I exclaim, ruffling my fingers through my hair furiously. I have to expend all of my effort to not rip the delicate hair from my scalp, but the ridiculous man that is Kai Havertz is proving that task to be extremely difficult.

“Do what?” Kai asks, his head cocked to one side with the most clueless look on his face.

“Go to the movies with your ex!” I nearly screech, in complete exasperation.

“I don't see what the big deal is. She and I are just friends.”

“Oh, right. Just like how you and I are just friends?” I retort, rolling my eyes. Kai and I are not “just friends”––we haven't been ever since we were strangers-turned-roommates six months ago––and he knows that. At the time, Kai’s girlfriend had freshly broken up with him and he was renting out the spare bedroom in what was formerly their shared apartment for dirt cheap. Quite frankly, it would’ve been a crime on my part not to move in. We grew closer over the months, a little flirting here and there, but I made sure to give him the space he needed to heal and move on. I did, however, suspect that he would make a move any day now… 

“Precisely. You and I are just friends,” Kai replies indifferently. 

“You know what, Kai? Screw you," I snap. What the hell is his problem?! Whatever. If this is how he wants to be, two can play at this game. 

Leaving him behind in the living room, I stomp all the way to my room and slam the door after me. That night, I text Christian, a mutual friend of Kai’s and mine, inviting him to check out the new paint and sip place downtown with me. I had been planning on going with Kai, but in light of his recent behavior, I’ve decided to ditch him for the night in favor of another. Let’s see how he likes it when the roles are reversed. 

Christian eagerly accepts my invitation and even offers to pick me up. So, a few hours later, a grinning Christian is standing at the front door, dressed in a crisp white polo shirt, gray slacks, and white sneakers. 

"Someone’s confident," I laugh, nodding at this light-colored outfit. "You don't think you're going to spill any paint on yourself? Or worse––wine?”

"Of course not," Christian replies with a smirk. “Didn't you know? ‘Confident’ is my middle name.” He walks, or rather struts, me to his car, opening the passenger side door before I slide into the leather seat. The entire ride to the paint studio is filled with Christian’s atrocious freestyle rapping and endless bragging about his intramural soccer team's most recent tournament win. Despite his massive God complex and the occasional airheaded moment, I have to give it to him; Christian Pulisic are the first words you’d see in a dictionary if you looked up “a good time.” The picturesque, all-American boy, Christian is brash and unabashed. Unlike Kai, who is careful and calculated in every agonizing way. But it's also what I like about Kai. Like me, he appreciates routine. I guess that's why we work so well as roommates. 

With Christian, everything is spontaneous. And the saying that time passes by when you're having fun is true––the night whizzes past in a blur with him. But perhaps the red wine had a slight say in that as well. Feeling good and only a tiny bit wobbly, I was entertained trying to paint the scenic sunset based on the instructor's directions. My refined companion Christian, on the other hand, took his own creative liberty to draw a huge cloud that looked eerily similar to a phallic object. Admittedly, tipsy me thought it was hilarious. Sober me, not so much. After our masterpieces are complete, Christian suggests grabbing boba tea and I can't just say no to boba tea. As the sky faded to dusk, we walk downtown along the sidewalk, chatting about everything from finals week to our zodiac signs that we know nothing about. Aside from a few raunchy jokes, Christian is fairly well-behaved and equipped with quips that nearly had me spilling milk tea out of my nose. 

By the end of the night, as he drives me home, I actually feel dejected that our little outing has come to an end. As he walks me up to the door, it feels wrong for him to leave already, so I invite him in. The apartment is pitch black, so we quietly sneak inside; but as soon as we’re in the living room, it’s suddenly, miraculously light. I see Kai jump over the couch, then assess Christian and I closely. Christian exchanges looks between Kai and me before excusing himself to go to the bathroom. 

“Puli? Seriously?" Kai cackles with amusement when he’s out of earshot. He tucks his arms over his chest, lips pulled into a smirk. "That’s who you’re using to prove your point?”

“No one’s using anybody,” I say defensively, straightening my posture. So I may have slightly been using Puli in the beginning, so what? He ended up being good company and I genuinely enjoy his presence. "What's it matter to you anyway? You said you and I are just friends." I wiggle my nose, trying not to sniffle as I repeat those heartbreaking words.

"You're still my roommate. If you're out all night with a punk, I'm going to be worried about you," Kai says matter-of-factly.

"'Punk'? Christian's your friend, too," I remind him. "Also, I can fend for myself, thank you very much. I don't need my roomie to keep an eye on me."

"You're certainly something else," Kai laughs, shaking his head. "All this commotion because I went a stupid movie with my ex?"

"It's not just that, Kai! It's also the coffee runs, the museum dates, the 'whenever she calls you, you're right there'," I huff, throwing my arms up. "What even am I to you?" My voice is so small, so weak, that I'm not even sure he’s heard me. 

Kai stares at me with those beautiful, glistening blue eyes of his, bewitching me, as he so often does. "You're––" he begins softly before cutting himself off and glowering when Christian reappears. "What am I to you?" he hisses instead.

"Uh. Am I interrupting something?" Christian asks. He doesn't really seem as concerned with being caught in the middle of something as he is curious.

"No," I say firmly, looking Kai squarely in the eyes. "Nothing at all."

"Actually," Kai interjects, a wicked smile growing on his narrow, pink lips. "I was just wondering if the two of you would like to join my girl and me for dinner tomorrow?"

"Shit, I didn't know you were dating anyone. For sure, man. We're in," Christian answers effortlessly, slinging a strong arm around my shoulders.

"Lovely," Kai grits, his eyes glued to Christian's tattooed arm around me.

"Lovely, indeed," I agree, planting a kiss to the back of Christian's hand. In a louder voice, I add, "C'mon, Christian, what was that you were saying about a sleepover?" Without waiting for a response, still wrapped in his embrace, I tug him towards the front door and slip out––all while fighting the urge to turn around and run into the arms I truly wish to be in.