#I honestly don’t mind a little vague spoiler

[meatycatastrophe]

Done with Part 2 of 1984, damn they got captured, and damn Mr. Charrington is such a daddy —in my head.

[lustlovehart]

I LOVE TWST monster au. It so cool and interesting!!! I'm INLOVE

I don't know if your taking requests or not but if you are I NEED to know more about Vil. Like have he every try to seduce you?? Like make you kiss him or worse 😳.

Anyway have a goodnight or goodday

Warnings: NSFW, some canon to the au, some past drafts, GN! Bodied Reader, Possession/Obsession

Ahaha… Funny you say this, in the monster list, Vil’s entire snippet was centered around reader and him being freaks before I realized I should tone it down 💀

First, Non-Canon/Draft stuff! The dynamic between reader and Vil was basically just

( They were fighting and then they somehow ended up in bed while they screamed hate at each other. When they were done they realized they lowkey liked it. )

Essentially, Vil is the only one in the monster cast who has ever been intimate with reader. In my mind, MH!Reader still understood it was wrong, so you never go all the way with him. You think this arrangement is completely reasonable, considering of firm Vil is on not letting you kill him. You’re entirely convinced he hates you, so letting him feed off you to feel the self indulgent pleasure of his tongue, is a fine arrangement.

Unbeknownst to you, every time he finds himself in the bed with you, he can only clench his nails. He’s been starving this whole time… Why? Because, contrary to you thinking he’s sapping your energy away, he hasn’t consumed a single piece of your vitality. Neither, has he seen anyone else to quench that desire.

It’s pathetic, he’s losing the soft feeling of his pure skin, simply cause he can’t bear the idea of slowly killing you. But, he doesn’t wanna do this with anyone else now. The only one he wishes to taste is you.

… Truly, what have you done to this all famed incubus?

Fun fact! The Incubus Vil fic I have written is actually before I changed this part of his lore, sooo, there might be a small chunk in there where it’s implied you and Vil had a freak off ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

And now onto Canon! This one will be a little vague to avoid heavy spoilers, but, you’re basically right! Vil does attempt to seduce reader, and it works, but only slightly.

Unlike MH!Reader previously, in the current au, they have a bit more self control, so you notice his seduction, and the sweet smell that wafts the air, but through simple will power, you push through the temptation.

There are several times where you wonder if you should just go through with it, but then you remember the hoard of monsters who act as your second shadow, the two monster hunters who will no doubt shoot Vil at every possible chance, and the angel Vil has a strong hatred for. Yeah, probably not the best choice.

Honestly, it ticks off Vil, but also is what makes him continue pursuing you. It would be easier to sleep with other people if you stopped looking at him with those eyes.

Yet, you don’t, so it’ll never happen.

[froggiewrites]

Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I couldn't wait to jump on the ask train aahhhh >< If it's ok with you, can I request for hurt/comfort with GN!reader x Ace? Prompt is: Ace survived Marineford physically, but mentally and emotionally, he's relapsing due to everything that's happened. Reader tries to comfort him while he has an anxiety attack maybe :((

If this request is too triggering for you, then no worries! Hope you have a good day ^^

~ 🍂 ace's widow ♠️

This was the first request in my inbox, and what a perfect one to start with! Thank you so much for sending it in, I loved writing this. I love writing anything for Ace, and honestly as someone who really struggles with anxiety this was really therapeutic to write.

Do I Deserve It?

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: Ace has been struggling lately, and you do your best to help. Warnings: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Vague Suicide Ideation, Marineford Spoilers/Mention Word Count: 1.3k

Ace hadn’t been himself today.

You noticed it in the morning, when you woke to an empty, cold bed. Ace typically slept in as late as he could, his snoring being the first sound you hear every morning. After the bloody battle at Marineford, you had been waking up alone more and more. You sometimes find him alone on the deck, staring into the horizon, a distant look in his eyes. When he sees you, he usually comes back to himself, smiling his wonderful, boyish smile, though his eyes remain dim and glassy. He’s somewhere far away, locked inside his own mind, only bringing parts of himself back long enough to kiss you softly, hold your hands, and assure you he’s okay.

This morning he didn’t even notice you were there. You were worried about disturbing him, bringing him back from wherever he had gone too quickly and causing damage you didn’t know how to fix, so you gave him a little time. You found Marco, quietly letting him know that your lover didn’t seem to be in a good mindset, before making Ace a small breakfast and tea.

“I have something for you, my love.” You keep your voice quiet and soft, afraid too loud or sharp a tone will send him running like a frightened animal. His head whips around at the sound of you, his shoulders tensing even more, but he doesn’t leave. That’s something. You set the plate next to him, and gesture for him to take the steaming mug directly. He lifts his hands, ready to receive, but they’re shaking so badly they can’t even wrap around the ceramic properly.

“Ace?”

He’s looking at you, blinking just slightly too rapidly, brow beaded with sweat. He tucks his hands under his thighs, trying to hide what you’d already seen. “Thanks. You can uh–you can set it down there.” His voice is ragged, barely able to get past his quick and shallow breaths.

“My love, are you alright?” You don’t know why you ask the question when you both clearly already know the answer. You set the mug down carefully before gently reaching to untuck his hands from under his legs. You go slowly, giving him ample chance to pull away, but he allows you to take his hands in yours. They’re clammy and unsteady, fingers twitching like he’s readying himself for a fight. “What’s wrong?”

He takes in a shaky breath, trying to steady himself, then another, then another after that. Before you realize it, he’s hyperventilating, and he throws himself into you, burying his face into your neck. You press one of your hands to his chest in surprise, and you can feel his heartbeat racing beneath your fingertips. His arms tighten around you, his nose burying itself deep in your neck, and you feel a wetness against your skin.

Instead of trying to speak, you start gently running your fingers through his hair, smoothing any tangles you find. He holds you tightly and shakes for several minutes, gasping for air. You pretend you don’t hear the choked breathing against you, and pretend you don’t hear how much he struggles to speak when he finally begins to mumble against your neck. “I’m horrible.”

“What?”

“I’m horrible. Awful. I–I should have–”

“Portgas D Ace, don’t you dare say what I think you’re about to say.” You want to pull him out of your neck and force him to look you in the eyes, make him know that what he was about to wish for was the only horrible thing here, but you worry if you pull him back you’ll untether him further and he’ll completely lose himself to the fears that have clearly overtaken him. You settle for kissing the side of his head the best you can without disturbing him, and taking on a gentler but still firm tone of voice. “I’m so glad you’re still here. I can’t imagine a world without you.”

“I am too. That’s the–” He lets out an angry huff at how he’s struggling to articulate, and you see small flames lick up his back. You use one hand to slide gently down his spine, extinguishing them. “So many people died. So many. And Pops almost–” His voice cracks, and he only just barely manages to hold back the new tears forming on his lashes. “For me. Some worthless, useless kid with tainted blood. And I–I’m happy about it. How sick is that? I’m happy I’m alive, even after all of that. Happy they wanted to do that for me. I’m the worst man alive. I deserved it.”

“Ace–” You don’t quite know where to start, so you pick a thread you know you can follow. “First off, it’s only right for a father to defend his son. Pops doesn’t regret a thing, and he wouldn’t even if things had gone worse. He’d do it for you. You’re his son.” 

His breath hitches again, and he lets out another quiet mumble. “I was so happy to see him. I kept telling myself it was okay, that it was better this way, but I was so happy to see him and know that I might live. Even if I didn’t deserve it. Even if things were worse with me here. I wanted to be allowed to live.”

“You are allowed to live. And every person there wanted you to. Still wants you to. You have no idea the good you’ve done, how many people you’ve helped. You’re a shining light, Ace, and none of us want you to be snuffed out.” Your hands rub soothing circles into his back, tracing lightly over the dimple at the bottom of his spine. His breathing slows slightly as his breaths get a little steadier. He’s still shaking in your arms, but less than earlier.

“I want to live. I want to keep going. But some part of me is still there, with the blade against my neck, and he’s begging for it to be over. It’s hard to ignore him.”

“I know it can be hard to hear anything over the voice in your head. But I promise you you have people here for you. I’m right here whenever you need me. Marco’s here. Pops is here. We all will help you in whatever way we can, whenever you need us. We love you, Ace, and we’re so happy you’re still with us. I would do all of it again if it meant keeping you safe, and I promise you everyone else feels the same. Even those of us who didn’t make it. We love you. We need you. We want you to live.”

You feel hot, wet tears against your neck again as he quietly cries into you. “I want to, too. I really want to.”

“So you will.”

“I will.”

You hold him for as long as he needs, long after his breakfast has gone cold and the sun has risen. The tension leaves him slowly but surely, and after a while you hear a soft snoring. You adjust him to a more comfortable position, leaning your back against the railing of the ship. You let him sleep as long as he needs, until the sun is high in the sky. Many members of the crew pass you, give soft looks of concern, but no one disturbs him.

Your talk doesn’t solve his problems, of course. They’re much bigger than a single conversation can solve. But instead of waking up to an empty bed, you start waking up to warm arms around you and a head buried between your shoulder blades or in your chest, listening to your heartbeat. You still find him on the deck, staring into the horizon, but instead of giving you a fragile smile when you find him he simply takes you into his arms, finding comfort in your presence. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Ace certainly won’t be rebuilt in one. But there is always a first day, then the one after that, and another, until eventually you can’t remember what it felt like before the first bricks were laid. He can be happy, in time. You can’t wait to see it.

[emphasisonthehomo]

Threshold teaser snippet! Vague spoilers.

•

“Were you serious about wanting to look for a new mattress?” Evan asks a week later.

It’s mid-morning. Tommy still has a little over 10 hours left of his shift, and is squirreled away in a corner of Harbor Station where he can have a conversation and be about 80% sure his coworkers won’t overhear. They’re talking just to talk. It’s nice. Evan must have slept in, because there’s still an obvious line on his cheek from the crease of a pillowcase.

“Yeah.” Tommy says, leaning against the wall and holding his phone close, “You were right, I do need a new one.”

“Good,” Evan says, all business, before picking up a pile of paper and tapping them on the counter a few times, “Because I did a little research, and I was thinking, you know. Since the squeaking of springs is kinda an issue, I’d look into some foam mattresses for you. And there’s some really good ones on the market right now–”

Tommy adjusts the volume to make sure he can hear everything Evan’s saying over the bustle of the station around him. Evan’s in his kitchen, his phone propped up on something. The top of his hair is out of frame. As Tommy squints, he can see that Evan’s holding several printed pages of consumer reports.

“–and obviously you’re gonna want to avoid something with fiberglass,” Evan continues seriously, “How that’s legal, I have no idea. Probably lobbyists. So anyway those are already out. IKEA apparently has some, but those seem really cheap. I didn’t want to make assumptions about your budget, but I did take those off the list, because you can do better than that–”

Tommy blinks. He’d made what was honestly a joke comment, and in the interim Evan apparently decided to study up and become a mattress expert on the possibility that Tommy was serious.

I’m going to fall in love with this man.

It’s a ludicrous time to come to that conclusion. Tommy’s at work, this call could end at any moment because of any number of emergencies, and Evan is rambling on about mattress companies. The thought still bubbles to the front of Tommy’s mind perfectly formed. There’s no agonizing over it, no hesitation. It’s the natural answer to a question Tommy hadn’t consciously been thinking about.

Of course.

Of course it’s Evan.

“You should come mattress shopping with me,” Tommy says, when Evan stops to catch his breath in the middle of an in-depth account of the pros and cons of memory foam versus non memory foam.

“It’s your mattress Tommy,” Evan sounds caught off guard, and looks mildly irritated that Tommy stopped him in the middle of his explanation.

“It is,” Tommy admits, and then because he doesn’t want make assumptions and repeat the same mistake he made a few months ago, he continues, “But I’m serious about you. About us. Maybe it’s a little soon, but I hope that I’ll be waking up with you a lot for the foreseeable future. You should have some input too.”

Evan goes comically still, his mouth half open. He puts the papers down onto the counter. A few flop out of his hands and slide off of the counter and onto the floor.

“Evan?” Tommy asks, equal parts concerned and nervous.

Shit.

Tommy should have waited to bring this up in person. Evan blinks several times, before turning on his heel and walking out of frame.  

“Evan?” Tommy repeats sharply, brain scrambling as he tries to figure out what to say. How to fix this, “You don’t have to.”

Evan pops back into the frame, hunched over as he picks up the paper that fell. Tommy’s breath gets caught in his throat. Evan straightens, fidgets with the papers in his hands, and then looks back at the camera. His cheeks are pink, he’s biting at his lower lip, and his dimples are out in full force.

Tommy relaxes.

“Just to be clear,” Evan starts slowly, and he looks almost giddy as he continues, “You want to go furniture shopping with me?”

“Yes,” Tommy says, grinning himself because Evan’s delight is always infectious, “You’ve done a lot research, it’d be a shame to waste it. I was just going to order one online.”

“Well, thank god I’m here to stop that from happening,” Evan says, his smile widening before he gets serious again and goes right back to business, “What’s your preference for firmness levels?”

I’m going to fall in love with this man.

“Firm?” Tommy offers, because he does know he’s not a fan of super soft mattresses, “But not too firm.”

Evan’s shirt rides up as he stretches across his counter to grab something off screen, before he returns with a pen and starts scribbling something on another piece of paper.

“Mine is medium firm,” Evan says. Of course he knows that.

“Yours is nice,” Tommy says, even though he honestly hasn’t thought much about it before. The best thing about sleeping in Evan’s bed is that it comes with Evan.

“So I’ll narrow down firm and medium firm models,” Evan says, “We can bounce on some mattresses and take it from there.”

“Your next shift starts tonight, right?” Tommy asks, visualizing his calendar to figure out when they can bounce.

“Yes,” Evan nods seriously, “You can pick me up after if you want? I’ll find a place I think will be good.”

“That’d be perfe–”

In the distance Lucy yells Tommy’s name.

“Gotta go,” Tommy says, “Bye Evan.”

“Bye Tommy,” Evan says, “I l–I’ll text you!” 

[kybercrystals94]

Of Scene Breaks and Plot Twists

Read here on Ao3!

Rated: G | Words: 2256 | Summary: The members of Clone Force 99 have an unwanted guest.

A/N: For Christmas, I wrote an entirely unserious, indulgent little fic because I can…so I did.

I am totally making fun of myself with this fic…apologies to the characters for not always (read: rarely) having a plan when I write.

I dedicate this story to every fanfic writer I know and don’t. May you never cease to amaze with your creativity and dedication to the art…you are a gift to the communities you partake in.

“Alright, boys, settle down,” Hunter says, walking into the cockpit. “We’ve got our next mission.”

“Do we actually get to blow something up this time?” Wrecker asks, sitting up in the seat he was slouching in.

Crosshair takes out his toothpick and flicks it at Wrecker, the sliver of wood bouncing harmlessly off the giant’s shoulder. “Or shoot something?”

“We have been on three consecutive data retrieval missions with no enemy engagement,” Tech states.

Echo points out, “Which is a good thing. It means we did our job well.”

“It means they were boring!” Wrecker declares.

Tech and Crosshair nod.

“I won’t promise anything,” Hunter says, grinning, “However, there is a high probability of explosions and shooting taking place this time around.”

The news receives reactive sounds of approval from most of the members of Clone Force 99. However, Echo isn’t fooling anyone with his eye roll. He’s been craving action as much as any of his brothers.

“So, what is it?” Echo asks.

“What’s what?” Hunter asks.

Echo frowns at him. “The mission?”

Hunter looks down at the data pad in his hand. “I…I don’t know. Nothing’s come through.”

“But you just said–”

“Sorry, sorry! That’s my fault,” I say, pushing myself up from the wall I was leaning against. “I’m sorta writing this as I go. I have no idea what your mission is yet. The keyword here is yet, because I’m sure it will come to me as we go.”

I’m honestly not sure what sort of reaction I expected, but five blasters pulled on me was not on the agenda. I put my hands up, heart battering in my throat. “Woah, woah, hey!” I cry, “Don’t shoot!”

“Who are you and how did you get on our ship?” Hunter growls, blaster still carefully poised to take me out if I make any wrong move.

I swallow. “I’m a fanfic writer. I’m the one writing this story.”

Oh. This is my story. Ha, sorta forgot that I can just…

The Batch lower their weapons with bewildered expressions, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“What just happened?” Wrecker asks. “Why’d we all lower our blasters like that?”

“I told you, I’m writing this story. I’m a fanfic writer,” I say, and, bolstered by my own abilities, I walk over and take a seat in behind Tech, turning the chair to face my darling characters. Aww, they look so sweet when they’re confused.

“You’re using some sort of mind trick,” Tech tells me. “You’re a Force user.”

I laugh. “I wish, but no. I’m just a humble fanfic writer, I promise.”

“You obviously know we don’t understand what that means,” Hunter says, and he sounds so annoyed. A little Crosshair-like, if I’m being honest. “So explain it. Now.”

Bossy.

“Fine,” I sigh, reaching in my back pocket and pulling out my phone.

Tech’s eyes light up, and I can tell he wants to ask about it; however, a sharp look from Hunter makes him settle back in the pilot’s chair. I make a mental note to show it to him once I’ve calmed everybody down.

For the sake of my gentle reader, I won’t get into the vaguely detailed explanation I gave the boys. It did not go well, and nobody calmed down. After all, how do you explain that someone’s reality and existence is fictional in your reality…without giving them spoilers for their futures? Then you would have to get into fix-its and canon and head canon and all that complicated jargon. Suffice to say, I had to again utilize my writing power to make them sit down and shut up for two seconds while I assured them that their lives were very much “real”, and that I am just trying to share one of their stories with my world…and also that I am making it up on the fly.

“I would like to study these works of fiction,” Tech says.

I ensure my phone is locked and secured in my pocket. “Mmm…maybe later.”

“So, basically,” Crosshair says, and somehow he manages to sound genuine and sarcastic at the same time, “you are calling all the shots and we have no freewill.”

I guess it does sound bad when he puts it like that.

“How about a compromise,” I say, “I’ll let you boys ‘call the shots’, and I’ll just write it down…if you stop threatening to shoot me out of the airlock. Deal?”

They collectively look unimpressed.

I continue stubbornly, “I’m not going anywhere until I have my story. I’ve been suffering from writer’s block for weeks, and this is the first decent idea I’ve had.”

“Half-baked is more like,” Echo grumbles. “Kriffing idiot.”

“See?” I say, splaying a hand at the cyborg, “If I were controlling everything, would I be letting y’all verbally assault me?”

“Let me shoot you with a blaster, and I’ll be convinced,” Crosshair says with a menacing flash of teeth that I think might be some sort of smile.

Suppressing a shudder, I roll my eyes. “The sooner I finish this story, the sooner I’ll get out of here. Then I’ll never bother you again…”

…In person.

I love internal dialogue.

“Fine,” Hunter agrees after a long, long bout of silence. “What’s our mission then?”

Oh. Right. That’s what started this whole mess in the first place.

Scrambling to come up with something, I say, “Alright, you should have a mission on your data pad now.”

Hunter looks down at his device. “It just says data extraction mission from blank.”

“Hey!” Wrecker objects, loudly, “I thought there was gonna be explosions and shooting!”

Tech takes the data pad from Hunter. “Not to mention the parameters of the mission are unfathomably vague.”

“Alright, alright,” I say, putting up my hands. “How about now?”

“Dangerous data extraction mission from insert planet name here,” Tech reads aloud.

Echo groans. “You have to give us more than that!”

“I don’t usually have to come up with all the details.”

“You’ve given us literally nothing,” Crosshair says, “Less than nothing.”

“You are making it very difficult to believe that anyone reads your stories willingly,” Tech says.

I narrow my eyes.

**

“What just happened?” Hunter asks.

We are in hyperspace, coordinates safely secured in the nav computer, boys fully aware of the mission parameters.

My work here is done.

“That, my friends, is called a scene break,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “Now, tell me about this mission.”

“Why would we go over it again?” Crosshair asks, annoyed. “We’ve been arguing strategy for the past hour.”

“So I can write it down.”

“What do you mean so you can write it down? I thought that’s what you were doing!”

I shake my head. “No, see, that’s the point of a scene break. I can skip writing all the monotony and just give readers the jist of it. So, give me the summary of the mission and I’ll write down the important bits I care about.”

Echo gapes at me. “You mean to tell me you still don’t know what the mission is?”

“Which is why you’re going to tell me,” I tell him patiently.

The boys exchange glances. I can see in their microexpressions that they’ve come to some sort of agreement that I am not going to like. Now wait a minute…

“Don’t tell the writer anything, boys,” Hunter says, turning back to the nav computer. “They get to come along for the ride, just like they wanted.”

“You can’t do that!” I cry.

“We just did, di’kut.” Crosshair begins polishing his rifle, the item having appeared during the scene break. “We’re in charge now.”

“Can you at least tell me where we’re going,” I implore weakly.

“Classified,” Echo says.

“Is it still a data extraction mission?”

Tech has the audacity to shrug. He’s scrolling through my phone. How…when…?

“Hey, give that back,” I say, lunging forward to snatch it from him.

He evades me easily, and I go sprawling across the durasteel floor.

Rolling over, I glare up at the commandos grinning down at me. “I’m still the writer,” I say, “I can still do whatever I want and know whatever I want.”

“Then why don’t you do it?” Crosshair taunts.

I must not be completely over my writer’s block after all, because nothing comes to mind. Somehow, the characters are in charge. Kriff.

“Tech,” I say, returning to the topic of my phone, “you can’t be looking at that stuff.”

“These tags are concerning,” Tech mutters, continuing to scroll as if I hadn’t said anything. “Hurt forward slash comfort? Angst? Fluff? Whump? What do these mean? That is, what is the context?”

I hate to do it, but I use my writing ability to put the phone back in my hands before Tech hurts himself emotionally. “Some things are better left unknown, Tech.”

“I swear,” Crosshair growls, “if any of those fanfics are sappy, I will shoot you out the airlock. I don’t care about our ‘deal’.”

“I’m not the only fanfic writer, okay? There are thousands of us.”

“Sounds like a nasty infestation,” Echo says.

“I’ll have you know,” I tell him primly, “we are a lovely community.”

Wrecker, the sweet boy, offers to help me to my feet, putting a hand out. I grip it and he hauls me up a little too roughly, nearly dislocating my shoulder. I grin at him nonetheless. “Thanks, Wreck.”

“Sure thing, writer,” he tells me. He leans in. “In those fanfic thingies you write, do I get to blow stuff up a lot?”

“Uhm, well,” I say, sitting back down, “it depends on the purpose of fic, really.”

“Whadda you mean? Aren’t they all just missions you make up for us?”

Crosshair huffs. “Or pretend to make up?”

“Listen,” I say, leaning around Wrecker to glare at the sniper, “I have writer’s block. Most of the time I think of legitimate missions.”

“Oh, yeah? Name one.”

“Well, one time, you were on this planet getting intel and the building that Echo and Tech was in collapsed and the rest of you had to dig them out.”

“What planet was it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“What was the intel?”

“Important.”

“So you just make whatever the kark you want up and people actually read it?” Echo asks.

Offended by the oversimplification of my work, I retort, “Well, I like to focus more on character development than missions. But that’s just me. Other writers are a heck of a lot better at writing mission stories.”

“Then how’d we get stuck with you?” Crosshair asks, throwing his wadded up polishing rag at me.

I wish I could say I caught it, but it hits me in the face.

“You know what,” I sputter, tossing the rag aside, “Scene…”

**

“...break.”

We are standing in the middle of a hall, surrounded on both sides by droids.

“Would you stop doing that?” Hunter shouts at me over the din of blasterfire.

I crouch down next to Tech at a control panel. “Hey, can I borrow one of your blasters?”

“Write yourself one,” he says, deadpan, keeping his focus on hacking into the Separatist system.

“It doesn’t work like that.”

Tech rolls his eyes and passes over one of his blasters. “Please take care not to shoot one of us.”

“I think I can handle it.”

I cannot handle it. My first shot goes wide and high, taking out a light in the ceiling. Before I can try again, someone snatches the blaster out of my hand.

“Give me that before you hurt yourself.” It’s Echo.

“If that’s a legitimate risk, let them keep it,” Crosshair calls out.

“Aw, don’t hurt yourself, little writer person,” Wrecker says, scooping me up under one arm, “I’ll protect ya!”

I kick my legs and flail my arms, dangling haplessly in his grip. “Put me down!”

“Not until we’re out of here,” Hunter orders.

Fine then.

**

We’re back on the Marauder. The boys’ dark armor is covered in spatters of dried mud, and the right lens of Tech’s goggles has a crack in it.

“What happened to you?” I ask, sitting comfortably in the pilot’s chair, unscathed.

“You’d know if you stuck around to find out,” Crosshair growls.

“Apparently, I was just in the way back there. So I skipped ahead.”

“You’ve been in the way this whole time,” Hunter mutters.

Oh. Those are fighting words.

I smile, and I hope it appears as devilish as I feel. “Plot twist.”

**

I’m not sure what the creature is, but it’s ugly. It’s covered in some sort of goo and it smells putrid.

And it’s gnawing on the Marauder. Don’t worry, it doesn’t have teeth, so the ship won’t be damaged, but it will leave a residue that probably won’t be fun to scrub off later.

“What in the universe is that?” Wrecker asks.

We’ve moved outside of the ship, and we’ve discovered that the creature simply absorbs blaster bolts and is completely unfazed. The boys will have to distract it somehow, lure it away.

How inconvenient.

“This was uncalled for,” Tech says, turning to glare at me.

“Did you see it coming?” I ask. When I am not dignified with a response from any of them, I add, “Plot twist successful.”

“How are we supposed to get rid of it?” Echo asks.

I shrug. “Maybe you boys will figure it out by the next chapter.”

“Wait, what do you mean ‘next chapter’?”

“And this is what we writers like to call,” I say, smiling sweetly, “a cliffhanger.”

TBC

A/N: Will I ever actually finish this fic?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

‘Tis the nature of fanfic, isn’t it? ;D

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[angstywaifu]

Options - Bodhi Durran x Reader

Prompt - They're looking. Kiss me. Now!

Warning: Spoilers for end of Fourth Wing.

Masterlist

Graduation Day. A celebration for all. For those graduating the college and accepting their postings. And for those of us moving up to the next year. It was an exciting time. And I was glad for the distraction after Athebyne. Athebyne where it had nearly all ended. Nearly gone wrong. Something Colonel Aetos had hoped for. Had almost bet on in fact. All day I had caught people staring at those of us who we’re meant to be dead. Wondering and whispering about what had happened.

Movement in front of me catches my eyes as two cadets from another wing sit in front of me. I vaguely knew them. They we’re in my year but that was about it. Due to me being one of the marked ones they usually kept their distance from me. Something about the way they looked at me had me on edge. One of them had a second drink in their hand they pushed towards me.

”Can I help you?” I ask them sarcastically. Hoping they get the hint I didn’t want to talk to them.

”Just thought you could use some company. Sitting here all by yourself. No one wants that on graduation night.” The one on the left says.

”Maybe some of us do want to be alone.” I snap back as they push the drink towards me again despite me already holding on in my hands.

”Graduation Day is a time to celebrate, let loose. Something we can help with.” The one on the right adds.

The way they both smile at me sends a chill up my mind. I had now regretted my choice to sit on my own. I could have easily joined some of the others, but most of my friend group were occupied or we’re saying goodbye to those who were leaving. Which is where Imogen and Bodhi had disappeared to. Gone to say goodbye to Garrick and Xaden who I had seen before coming down here.

”Well this Graduation Day I don’t particularly feel like celebrating. So if that’s your only goal, please go elsewhere.” I say before turning my attention to elsewhere in the room, my eyes catching Bodhi, Garrick and Xaden making their way into the room.

”Most of you made it back alive. Can’t have been that bad.” One of them adds.

I see red as I turn to face them. But I couldn’t snap at them the way I wanted to. I couldn’t reveal what we had actually dealt with. Actually faced. I had to reign it in.

”Regardless I do not feel like celebrating, especially not with you two.” I emphasise the last word with as much anger as I can. Please get the hint and leave me alone.

They smirk at me. “I don’t see any other options for you. All the other marked ones seem to already have their options for tonight.”

God these two made my skin crawl. Made me want to jump over the table and teach them the lesson I know I could easily do. I’d seen them fight. They weren’t bad, but I was better. I had Xaden and Garrick to thank for that.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I have options. So if you could move along.”

A lie. A blatant lie. I had no options. No one I could escape to and try use to get these two away from me. And these two creeps knew.

”Go on then, go get one of those options and we will leave you peacefully be.” One of them challenged.

I gulp as I scan the room. Hoping for anyone. Anything. Hell I would go over to Imogen and ask her to play along. We were both straight, but we would play the part if needed for the other to help get out of a situation quite like this. I had hoped she had snuck back in with Garrick, Xaden and Bodhi but she hadn’t. Bodhi. Bodhi could help. But it was different with him. We had a friendship, that quite honestly could go that way if we wanted. Hell we toed the line a little too much. But that’s all we were. Friends. Nothing more. But he would help. And it’s not like I had to kiss him or anything. Right? All I had to do was walk up, quickly explain the situation and hope those two would find someone else to go pester. Though part of me hoped they wouldn’t. I could do this. It was easy. That’s what I tried to tell myself as I stood up and walked over to Bodhi who was leaning against the wall with Garrick. Xaden now gone. Probably saying goodbye to Violet. Bodhi looks over at me as I rush over to him and Garrick. I know he can tell something is up by the way his brow furrows.

”You ok?” He asks as I stop in front of him.

”I need your help. I need you to pretend that you’re into me.” I tell him sternly.

Garrick does his best to hide his laugh with a cough. He mutters something that sounds oddly like “that won’t be hard” as Bodhi elbows him in the side.

”T-that’s an interesting thing t-to need help with.” Bodhi stutters back.

I sigh and nod my head towards the two boys who are staring at us very intently, obviously intrigued to see who out of Bodhi and Garrick was my option. Garrick was a gamble as he was dressed to leave. But he was known to sleep around when he was so inclined. He would have been the more believable target for this. Garrick would have easily played along, but would also give me shit about it later. But I had gone to Bodhi.

”Those two are pestering me and keep pushing that I need to celebrate tonight with them. And I do not. It’s the last thing I want. But they won’t go unless I can prove to them I have another option. Which I don’t, but I need someone to at least pretend.” I blurt out as I look behind me. My blood runs cold, they’ve now stood up and are looking at Bodhi and I, and are about to walk over. Shit., I barely think before the words leave my mouth. “They’re looking. Kiss me.”

”Ah….”

”NOW!”

Bodhi just looks at me shocked. Frozen in place. Shit. I step forward and cup his face between my hands as I pull him down into a kiss. I feel Bodhi go rigged as our lips touch. As my lips meet his, its like it ignites a fire in me. A fire I had never felt before. I wrap my hands around his neck in an effort to deepen the kiss as I step closer. As I lightly trace his lip with my tongue, something in Bodhi snaps. His hands that were frozen at his side come to grip my hips and pull me flush against him. His body relaxing as he eases into the kiss. A small groan rumbling through him as our tongues meet. A cough next to us has us breaking apart to a very amused Garrick smirking at us as he motions with his head. I turn my gaze to see they’ve stormed off to another table and a group of girls from another squad. I go to step back but Bodhi’s grip on my hips tighten as he holds me against him. I look back at him to see him staring at me with an intensity I’ve never seen before.

”Have fun you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Garrick teases before pushing off the wall, leaving us alone as he heads outside.

Bodhi continues to stare at me, as if he’s shocked and cant believe what has just happened. As if it was a dream. A dream he had been waiting to come true. Like he had been waiting for me to toe that line just a little more. To take that first step he was too scared to. But slowly a smile breaks out over his face.

”Would you object to not pretending to celebrate with me tonight?” He finally asks, in a way that almost reminds me of the confidence that Garrick and Xaden have.

”Not at all.” I tell him before giving him a quick kiss, grabbing his hand and leading him up to the third year rooms.

[s1i9d]

I hope you don't mind, but now that I've finally found someone who's listening to Magnus Protocol but hasn't listened to Magnus Archives I will be studying you like a bug under a magnifying glass. I've been dying to know how the show hits from a non archives perspective. So in that vein, if you don't mind me questioning you, what are your overall thoughts on the show so far? Also what's it like seeing the fandom response from people who have listened to archives? Have you been successful in avoiding spoilers?

Honestly I’ve been loving Protocol.

I’m not 100% sure what to translate since I don’t know what Archives context I’m missing, but I can try to tell you what I really like about Protocol.

I really do love the format of Protocol. It’s mostly an office drama story, which on its own is appealing, but the statements from FR3-D1 put in each episode gives the story this underlying horror aspect to it. So when I listen to an episode, often times if the statement portion feels lacking, the office drama really brings up the episode and the vice versa.

Then things start to get a lot more creepier when the two intersect (The Magnus Institute, Mr. Bonzo, Lady Mowbray, the Drowning Victim, the Archivist, etc.) and by this point in the story, we’re so close to having a full merge.

Since this is my first real dive into horror podcasts, I do want to engage with the fan community, but it’s hard to balance being spoiler-free at the same time. I do know some general spoilers that I haven’t updated in a while, but is mostly still accurate. I don’t know what an Archivist is, but I am aware that AU versions of Archives characters have made their debut here.

I am aware that Protocol is going a lot faster than Archives. From what I understand of Archives, it has a lot more slow build up rather than Protocol which I has a pretty good pace. Might be because Protocol has less than half the episodes as Archives.

It’s really interesting how the fandom keeps losing their minds over stuff that I’m just like “yeah cool let’s see where that goes”. Like E26 where the Archivist was named, I felt like I took on the perspective of Alice/Gwen/Sam where I’m like “okay… and this means what?” while the rest of the fandom is taking the Celia perspective of “OH NO”.

Or even this recent episode where this Minister Trevor Herbert dude was. Like I have no idea what this dude is and why everyone is absolutely screaming, crying, throwing up that he’s here, and that is fascinating.

It’s been pretty interesting when I bring up something that felt weird or off that just went nowhere, and my friends revealing some info. I’m like “WHAT” and they’re just like “oh thats not common knowledge?” And I’m just there like “huh?!?” Which turns out, the Hilltop Centre was actually important.

I mostly wish the fandom would tag archives spoilers with #tma /#the Magnus archives / #tma vague just so that spoilers could be tagged a little bit better, but to be fair I am one of the rare people that doesn’t intersect the Venn diagram between archives and protocol.

But overall, I really am loving Protocol. I don’t know when I’ll listen to Archives (probably after Protocol’s three seasons are over) but I will listen to it eventually. Feel free to send more asks my way.

[cranberry-writes]

hii i love ur writing!!! ik youve just answered a hughie ask but i love him and how u write him sm, could i please rq sorta general hcs w him having a lil crush on someone whose sweet and confident, if a little vain? if possible, id love it to specifically be a male reader whose significantly taller than him. thank you!

Hughie Headcannons

Ahhhh love this rq!!! There are almost no male reader stories or headcannons so it’s nice to do them.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ANY REQUEST! (If you aren’t sure look at my pinned!”

Also i’m like 5’ 5” so my writing about a tall person is definitely not correct 😞

Warnings; (Very) Mild Spoilers for season 2&3 and cannon typical language

- Hughies already a tall guy, 6’ 1” (185 centimeters) so being taller than him is something he didn’t really expect

- Tbh he thinks you’re standing on something when he first sees you, but he does a double take and is like ‘Oh shit’

- The second thing he thinks when he meets you is ‘..how?’

- You’re not sunshine and rainbows vomiting kittens or anything, but your a lot more upbeat and kinder than the others there

- “Cool Billy Joel shirt, you got a favorite song?” “Yeah actually, (i know nothing about billy joel) is my favorite.”

- He really assumed that everyone was going to be dickish off the batt but apparently not

- He’s happy he don’t feel like his life is in danger with everyone when he first gets introduced

- He’s also happy someone *cough* isn’t calling him a cunt every 5 minutes

- When he first notices the the vaguely vain behavior, it annoys him a bit (in reality it’s more of jealousy, he wishes he could have faith in himself like you do) but once he sees you in action he understands, working with The Boys is hard, dealing with supes is hard.

- It also kinda scared him a bit, he really didn’t want to think you where an asshole

- Honestly the fact that your alive after everything gives you a pretty decent reason to be a tad vain in his mind

- With your confidence+sweetness he’s not sure if he wants to be you or be with you

- He soon realizes it’s mostly attraction a bit admiration

- I headcannon that he is so insanely bisexual it’s crazy, so being with a dude isn’t something he has to really work through or convince himself of

- Like he just grew up knowing and never really questioned or cared about it

- But he doesn’t realize he actually has a crush on you untill later in the series, maybe around late season two after LampLighter happens. (i feel like that kinda made him realize some stuff about himself)

- But he takes WAY longer to actually try and make a move on you

- like start of season four is when he even starts to make a move

- But he’s got that nerdy white boy thing and chances are you ask him out first

- You totally break out all the stocks, flowers, candy, stuff like that

- He is flattered, flustered, and scared

- Unlike Starlight you don’t have powers, and while you are amazing at your job he’s still scared that you’ll become a bigger target because of his affiliation with Homelander and Newman.

- But honestly we all saw how he literally stood up to Homelander when he insulted Starlight, once yall are in a relationship he ain’t backing down for shit (Unless you ask, he’s very respectful of boundaries)

- okay i’m circling back to the height thing,

- he would enjoy it a LOT

- He’s always been the taller one in relationships, it was nice to switch it up a bit.

- He also enjoys how someone else can share the struggles of being tall with him

- (small stupid thing but if yall move in together you have one hell of a time finding a bed that actually fits)

- Because of how tall you both are it’s easy to find one another in crowds, Hughie really likes that fact (he’s scared that if he can’t find you then something horrible has happened to you)

- Butcher pokes fun at both of you but in the dumbest ways imaginable

- “Ere’ come the fucken’ inflatable tube couple.”

Watch me make an actual fic about this

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 8

~~~

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

~~~

Author's Note: Sorry this took longer than usual, it was a stressful week at work and I didn't have time or energy to write as much as I wanted. There will be at least one more part, but I'm hoping I'll wrap things up next time (but honestly who knows with these two)

More act 2 spoilers this time!

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mildish?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, minor Karlach/Dammon, non-explicit injuries, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought you knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only…now you do.

Up until now, you’ve not been handling it very well, but you make an effort to move past it. Past him.

~~~

You keep your promise to yourself fairly well in the following days. The Shadowlands, as expected, keep you busy with new mysteries and clues — and plenty of battles — and most of the time, you manage to remain focused on the task at hand.

Perhaps your heartbeat picks up a notch every time Astarion is near, but you ignore it. And maybe, just maybe, you stare at him a smidge too long when he’s not looking, but only when you know it doesn’t pull your attention away from something important.

You’ve caught him watching you too, but you keep your distance. No distractions, not even for a quick roll in the proverbial hay.

Everything is going relatively alright — until it doesn’t.

Thanks to the psionic detector, the Githyanki ambush doesn’t catch you off-guard, but you learn quickly that you have underestimated the danger they pose.

Perhaps you all got too cocky these last few days — too many easily-won battles that have boosted your confidence into thinking that this too will be readily handled.

In retrospect, you should’ve returned to stock up on scrolls and potions before taking them on. Too late now.

It’s a drawn-out battle, wearing you all out little by little, but if it’s anything you and your friends are, it’s tenacious — and after what feels like an eternity, you’re down to one foe. It’s their leader, but even with all of you severely injured, you should be able to take them out.

You grin as Karlach deals a critical hit with her halberd, finishing the Githyanki off with a savage roar.

“Gods, that was close.”

“Too close,” Astarion says as he sheaths his swords. Things aren’t exactly good between you, but it has been getting better. “Next time we contemplate doing something this stupid, how about we don’t?”

“You’re just cranky ‘cause you didn’t get to bite either of them.” Karlach nudges him with a grin. “Isn’t that right, Fangs?”

You’re still laughing when something behind the others steals your attention.

One of the other Githyanki. You saw them get felled by one of Shadowheart’s spells, but perhaps they only got knocked out.

You stop breathing when you realise that not only are they alive — but they have an arrow notched, ready to fire.

And it’s aimed at Astarion.

It’s too late to stop the arrow as they, at that moment, let it fly — so you do the only thing you can think of.

“Tav, what–”

You push him out of the way, but it’s not fast enough.

The pain of the arrow piercing you is blinding; you think you might be screaming.

“Tav!”

You sag to the ground, and the last thing you see is Astarion looking at you with a panicked expression. At least he’s okay, you think.

After that, everything fades to black.

“…Calm down, Astarion, Tav will be alright.”

“They don’t look alright! Why aren’t you doing more?”

“The only thing we can do now is wait. If you can’t behave, leave. We’ll find you when Tav wakes up.”

You’re vaguely aware of the voices, but you’re not quite capable of parsing what they’re saying.

“Hah! And leave them alone with you lot? I don’t think so.”

Why does everyone sound so upset? You can’t remember, and before your mind is clear enough to figure it out, you drift back into unconsciousness.

Your mind still feels like a blur when you come to next. You think someone might be holding your hand, but it’s difficult to be sure when you’re groggy with pain. And you’re not ready to open your eyes just yet.

“Why, oh, why, must you always play the hero? And for me, of all people?”

You recognise the low-pitched voice. Astarion. Why is he here?

“So stupid.” What feels like hair brushes against the back of your hand. “I’m not worth you losing your life.”

“Sure you are,” you press out, because it’s that simple. “I’d do anything for you.”

He inhales sharply. “Tav? Tav, darling, open your eyes for me.”

You reluctantly do as he asks, and it surprises you to find him looking uncharacteristically dishevelled.

“There you are. You had us worried, you know.”

“Astarion.”

“I’ll go and get the others.”

“Astarion.”

Before you can stop him, he leaves, and when he returns with the rest of your friends, he sticks to the background, letting the others dote on you.

You want him to come back, want him to hold your hand again. If the others weren't around, you might have asked him to. Instead, you see him sneak out of the tent when Karlach starts admonishing you for your brave yet careless stunt.

You love them all so much, but in that moment you’re this close to telling them all to leave. You would have, if you didn’t know that they probably need this to ease their own worries.

Still, you’re eternally grateful when Shadowheart ten minutes later shoo everyone out of your tent. She’s about to leave too when she turns to give you a secretive smile.

“You said his name, you know. More than once. When we carried you back to camp.”

With a bone-deep groan, you hide your face in your hands. “Please tell me he didn’t hear.”

“Oh, he most definitely did. But you know how he is, after the initial surprise, his expression turned blank. But his eyes never left you after that.” She huffs a laugh. “Not that he let you out of his sight before that. The only one allowed to carry you was Karlach.”

It sounds too good to be true. “Really?”

“I thought he was going to attack Halsin when he bent down to pick you up.”

“Why would he do that?” It truly makes no sense.

“Jealousy, of course.”

“Astarion? Jealous?”

Instead of answering, she just gives you a wink. “Seems like you two have that in common. Now make sure to rest, alright? I’ll come by with something to eat later.”

“Right.” Your head is spinning, and not only because you're recovering from an injury. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

You want to process everything you just learned but your body is not having it; in mere minutes, you’re back under again.

No one is holding your hand when you hours later rouse from sleep. Strange that, how your mind seems to have expected it just because it happened last time. When Astarion was sitting by your side.

Astarion.

You have to find him.

It still hurts like hell, but the pain level is manageable. Perhaps a grunt or two slips out of you as you drag yourself up to standing, but no one’s there to give you grief about it so it’s fine. It’s nothing you can’t handle.

It’s dark outside, but you should’ve known better than to think that that would be enough to let you sneak away unnoticed.

“And just where do you think you’re going, soldier?”

Karlach.

“I need to see him.” She already knows, so you might as well get right to the point.

She sighs. “You’re not going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“No.”

“What if I go and find him for you?”

“Karlach.”

“Fiiiine. But only because I was already heading that way, anyway.”

“Dammon?”

Her besotted smile is a fetching look on her and you would hug her if you didn’t think it would hurt too much.

“Yeaaah. And last time I saw Astarion, he was heading in that direction.”

You don’t talk much on the walk over to the inn, your mind too busy going over and over what you want to say. What you want to ask him.

“You alright there, soldier?”

“Mmm, yeah. Maybe a bit nervous.” Because it’s truly dawning on you what you’re about to do. What if you’ve got it all wrong?

“Hah, trust me, you’ve got nothing to worry about.” Her gentle squeeze on your arm feels reassuring. At least a little bit. She glances over her shoulder at the smithy where a fire is still burning. “And this is where I leave you.”

“I’m happy for you, Karlach.”

“Thank you, Tav. I’d say good luck but I don’t think you’ll need it. Now go and shake some sense into the vampire of yours.”

“Will do,” you say, even though you’re not sure you mean it. Every plan you’ve made so far involving this man has gone sideways, so who’s to say it won’t this time?

Taking a deep breath, you find yourself remaining where you are. Stalling.

“Should you really be up and about, Tav?”

“Jaheira.” You are so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn’t hear her approach. Turning around to face her, you give her a small smile. “I have something important I need to do.”

“I see.” With a slight bow of her head, she acknowledges your wish for privacy. “It’s good that you’re here, I wanted to thank you for your help the other day. I’m not sure we would still be standing if it weren’t for you and your friends.”

“Trust me, I’m just as happy as you are about that. And you made quite the dent in enemy forces yourself, taking down several of those winged horrors.”

“Their deaths wouldn’t have mattered if you hadn’t dealt with Marcus.”

“Still.” Jaheira is a force to be reckoned with, no doubt about it. “We could use someone of your calibre in our party.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m needed here.”

“I understand.” Something in her expression tells you that she’s tempted. “Consider it an open invitation. In case you change your mind.”

“I will, thank you.”

“You don’t happen to know if Astarion is here somewhere?” You decide you might as well save yourself some time and ask. “Karlach told me she had seen him head this way.”

“He came here a while ago, yes. I think he’s down by the water.” She nods in the direction between the inn and the barn.

“Thank you.”

~~~

[seenoversundown]

For Death Or Glory : Chapter Sixteen

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: Brief mentions of sex (nothing too deep) Mentions of Loss / Grief / Death, Sad / Anxious themes briefly, Fluff, RomComs (Char is a crier) , Jake being the little sweetie pie that we know and love him to be, and last but certainly not least- A LOT of references to John Tucker Must Die (may include some spoilers if you haven't watched the movie, but also go watch it?? What are you doing? It's incredible.)

Word Count: 4k.

Summary: After a long night with him, Charlotte finds herself in a bit of a predicament.

Author's Note: Oh, this turned out to be a cute one guys! I honestly went into this chapter with a vague idea of how I wanted it to go and then suddenly had the Jimmy Neutron-style brain blast when I realized what they needed to be doing. I really hope you enjoy it; it's a bit of a niche chapter but, it's actually kind of important in the grand scheme! Can't wait to hear your feedback and I really can't wait for next week. 🤭

Feels Like - Gracie Abrams "Met you at the right time, this is what it feels like."

The feeling of him pulling me back into him as I’m half asleep, letting a little ‘mmm’ slip out with his face tucked into me. Our bodies tangle into each other as he slides one of his legs between mine, keeping me as close to him as possible. The warmth coming from him made up for the lack of clothes we had on. 

We lie there for a while, in and out of sleep, sharing gentle touches occasionally; he’d slide his hand up and down my thigh a few times and then fall back to sleep or kiss the base of my neck slowly. I’ll never understand how he’s real. 

“I have to pee so bad,” he mumbles into me. His morning voice is extra raspy, and despite him being a little too honest, it really is adorable. I just quietly laugh at him as he tightens his grip around me. 

“You should probably go take care of that,” I whisper back, trying not to laugh more. 

He lets out a long breath against me, “I’d have to stand up, and that just sounds awful.”

“Yes, but if you pee on me, I'm never letting you live that down,” I tell him, making him laugh. 

“Alright, alright,” he groans. “But, don’t move– I’m coming right back.” He leaves a kiss on my shoulder before sliding out of bed. I turn around to watch him as he just pulls on a flannel, his legs still fully on display from how short his boxers are. It's hard to believe that no girl has tried to get with him; he is effortlessly gorgeous. 

Once he’s left the room, I grab my phone, unlocking it to see the dreaded email from my boss that I knew I would be receiving. We’ve been going back and forth the past few days trying to figure out what I'm doing. To be honest, I don’t really know what I’m doing. Not cooperating with your job is what you’re doing. Be so for real, Char.

Knowing I’d probably regret my choice, I decided to open his reply. 

‘Charlotte- I’ve been trying to be as flexible as I can with you, and I understand that you’re technically doing work—I can’t stress how much this isn’t an option for you. You were hired as an in-office employee. Now, I know you’re still grieving, but our bereavement days are only supposed to be for immediate family members, and we are already letting that slide for your friend, so I would really appreciate it if you were a little more cooperative.  I need you to figure out a return date within the next week or so and give it to me by the end of the day.'

‘Letting it slide for your friend,’ the sting from that specific line, making my heart pound and my eyes start to well up. I can’t cry right now; I doubt he meant it to be mean, Char. I don’t care how he meant it; it hurts. She may as well have been family, in my mind. Now, the daunting task of how I’m supposed to go back into the office after all of this will plague my mind today. 

My hands are shaking as I scroll up and down through the email. I swallow hard to try and stop the sadness that’s forcing its way up my throat. I quickly lock my phone and toss it to the other end of the bed as the door to his room opens. 

“I had a feeling you’d be up,” his soft voice rang through the room. He looks so sweet, carefully walking over with two mugs full of coffee. I figured you would want this.” He holds it out for me, his gaze finally meeting mine. 

Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. 

“Thank you” comes out a bit more strained than I would have preferred. His eyebrows pull together. He sets his mug down on the nightstand and sits in front of me. 

“What’s going on?”

I shake my head, my throat feeling tight all over again. 

“Hey,” his hands gently rubbed my legs, “Whatever it is, you can tell me.” 

My eyes betray me as they well up. I set my coffee down with his, quickly wiping my eyes as the tears started to come out. 

“It’s a long story,” I choke out quietly. 

“I have time.” 

The tears instantly fall as I sit there in front of him, feeling like he wants nothing more than just to make sure I’m okay. My hands fly up to cover my face, feeling dumb for crying in front of him.. again.

His hands moved to my arms, gently pulling me towards him. He whispered, “Ooh, come here, honey.” 

Without hesitation, I crawled into his lap, resting my face against his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around me. We sit there for a few minutes like that before I finally decide to say it. 

“Um.. my best friend passed away,” I tell him, doing my best to keep it together enough to explain. “Her funeral was the day I came in to help and cried in your office.” I can feel him take a deeper breath before saying anything. 

“I can’t even imagine,” he says softly, “I’m so sorry.” Resting his face against the top of my head. 

“Yeah, it’s just a lot.” My heart aches, replaying the thoughts in my mind before I choke out,  “I miss her so much.” 

“Tell me about her.”

What? He— oh. I shift myself to face him, sitting in between his legs. He sweetly wipes underneath my eyes, his hands dropping to find mine. 

“Her name is Cassie,” I start. Telling him everything I could, how we met, and how she always made me laugh. The way she was so naturally beautiful and inspiring to watch exist. I was explaining how we would always end up spending the night at each other's houses because we would just get too caught up in talking. I found myself laughing at one point while explaining, even with tears still falling. 

He held my hands the whole time. He listened so intently, keeping eye contact and only letting go when I needed one to explain something or if he was wiping a tear away from my face. He was everything I needed at that moment.

“She sounds wonderful,” he says, softly squeezing my hand. 

My eyes well up as I look at him, forcing out a laugh as I stare up at the ceiling, trying to prevent the tears from falling. She would have loved you. The look on his face makes it harder to keep it together, his eyes looking so concerned as more tears sneak out. 

“She really is,” I let out with a sigh, which swiftly turned into a laugh. “I swear I can hear her in my head half of the time.” 

He smiles for a second, “That’s how you know she was a good one.”

A tear falls and lands on his hand, feeling the little spray as it bursts against him. Pulling me out of the moment and realizing how close we are. He's so gentle the way he runs his thumb over my knuckles as we talk. He quickly pulled me into his arms, and as soon as he saw tears, there was no hesitation. My heart shakes at the thought. 

“You know what,” he starts, bringing me back to earth and gently squeezing my hands. Let me talk to Josh real quick. I have an idea.” His eyes are soft, gazing all over my face. 

“Can I know what it is?” I ask quietly. He leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead carefully. 

“If I can make it happen, yes.” 

I grab the coffee he brought. It’s questionably cold at this point, but I'm sipping on it anyway. Cass, I wish I could get confirmation from you or something. How am I supposed to know if you were right? 

He leans against the doorframe and looks at me. “Okay, are you comfortable hanging out for a little bit?” 

“I can.” 

“I’m going to go down to the bar for a few, and then I need to grab a couple things, and I’ll be back,” he says,  talking faster than I think I’ve ever heard him speak. “If that's okay?”

I nod, “I might try to read a little then.” 

He wanders over to sit in front of me again, “are you positive?”

“Mhmm,” I can’t help but chuckle at him a little, “Do what you need to.”

He gets dressed quickly, which is unfortunate for me, before walking over and kissing the top of my head. 

“You promise you’ll be alright?” he asks, squatting down in front of me and instinctively grabbing my free hand, looking up at me, waiting for an answer.

I can’t help but laugh, “Yes, I’ll be okay.” 

“There she is,” he says, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

After he left, I spent a few minutes debating whether to reply to my boss but choosing not to do that while I was still emotional felt like the right option. I curled back into his bed, holding his pillow close to me as I drifted in and out of sleep for a while. Hearing the door open, he was definitely carrying something when the thud of it hitting the door rang through the apartment. I crawled out of his bed and snuck out into the living room. 

“Hi,” I squeak out, feeling oddly excited to see him. 

He turns around, a sweet little smile on his lips, “Hey you.” 

I wander over to the couch, pulling the throw blanket over me while he’s putting things away. 

“Okay, so,  I got us some shitty food to make and some Downeast,”  He looks over at me, holding up his hand out of defense,  “I can cook, but it just felt appropriate for today, alright?” 

“Do you not have to work?” I ask, letting my eyebrows pull together as I stare at him. 

He shakes his head, “That’s why I went down early, so I could be free for the evening.” He took the night off for me? 

“You didn’t have to do that!” 

“No, I know,” he says, his smile making my heart melt, “I wanted to.”  

He practically took the wind out of me with that statement. He wanted to..? He’s far too nice to me. It’s almost like I deflated but in a good way. Nobody has ever cared enough to do something like this..  Not realizing how zoned out I had been until his voice brought me back. 

“Want to pick something to watch, hun?” 

Something about the pet name always makes my body tingle. Last night probably didn’t help.  I know immediately what I want to watch, opening Hulu quickly. 

He wanders over, handing me a drink. 

“What’s the verdict?” He asks, sinking into the couch next to me as I click play. 

“John Tucker Must Die,” I tell him, sipping on my drink before setting it on the coaster near me. I have to tell Josh how cute these are. 

“I don’t think I could tell you the last time I watched this,” he admits. 

“Really? We watch it—” I start to say, but being hit by reality again, “Um... Cass and I would watch it all the time when we’d hang out.” It feels like he can tell that I am having a moment because he quickly grabs my hands. 

“Well then, I apparently have been sleeping on a cinematic masterpiece!” He spits out, making me laugh. He sinks back into the couch, propping one of his legs up on the corner of the coffee table. 

I was readjusting myself a little, partially for comfort but also because he was so close, and I didn’t know what to do with my legs. He glanced over as I was trying to get situated, silently grabbing my ankle and pulling my legs over on top of his. There were those butterflies again. 

The opening segment of the movie showcases how terrible John Tucker really is. Unfortunately, I have wasted plenty of dates on men like him. 

“This dude sucks?” he mumbles. 

Giggling quietly, “Well, you’re not really supposed to be rooting for him, so I’m glad you think so.” 

A few minutes later, Scott Tucker, as we know—he is the better brother—shows up on screen. I look over at Jake. He’s focused on the movie, but his hand is holding my leg, casually running it up my calf, and occasionally giving it a little squeeze. 

Watching him for a minute as he’s focused on the TV, I notice that his expression is naturally so soft. I lean forward, pulling some of the throw blanket over him, not realizing I had the bulk of it. 

“Didn't mean to hog the whole thing,” I giggle as I tell him. I was still trying to toss the excess blanket over him. 

The way his eyes smile when he says, “Well, thank you.” He grabs the edge of it, helping me before bringing his hand back to my ankle. How he keeps some form of contact is so funny to me. It’s very clearly an absentminded thing that he does, and I won’t argue that it isn’t nice that he just wants to be touching me casually. It’s a wildly comforting feeling that I didn’t realize I enjoyed. 

His giggles when John has the estrogen meltdown have my heart melting. Just the organic laugh out of him is such a nice sound, especially after earlier. I’ll take any ounce of serotonin I can get. It takes me a few minutes to focus on the TV and not just look at him because I’d almost rather spend the entire movie watching his reactions. 

“Yeahhhh .. been there, bud,” he mumbles, as John is tripping over his words because Kate’s in red lingerie. He looks over with an exaggerated scowl at me as I bark out a laugh. 

“Hey now,” I start, “You seemed to enjoy it!” 

His mouth falls open, “Of course I enjoyed it? I would have enjoyed it more if I wasn’t behind the bar fighting demons the entire time, you little shit.” 

“Oh, was it so terrible?” I tease him, trying not to laugh. 

He grabs his phone, quickly swiping through our messages and clicking on one of the pictures I had sent. He turns it to face me and slowly blinks at me, “How was I supposed to be okay when you look like THAT?” 

“Okay, maybe it was a little unfair,” I let out through a laugh. 

His eyebrows pull together, “A little? God, I was sweating, honey.” 

There’s that pet name again, and I don’t know what makes the butterflies show up, but they do every time. I pull myself closer to him. He looks over at me, lifting his arm for me to get closer to him. 

Staying pressed against his side, his hand lightly drawing little circles on my arm while one of my hands found comfort on his stomach. Something about him, in general, just made me feel safe. The doom and gloom in my brain seemingly lessen when I'm around him.  

I look up at him as Scott asks her to be his lab partner again, feeling my eyes well up a little. It’s him, isn’t it, Cass? Seeing the way his eyes light up at their interaction before glancing over to me.  

“Oh?” He questions, his eyebrow popping up quickly. 

“No, I’m fine,” I laugh out, trying to blink the tears back into my body. “It’s just sweet.” 

“It is,” he says quietly, holding eye contact for a minute. I feel my heart start to pound as he stares at me. Why am I nervous, like we haven’t kissed before? My eyes wander to his lips just for a second. He really does have such a pretty mouth. It's hard not to admire him when he’s so close. 

His stare drops to my mouth now. This is like the worst game of chicken we could ever play. A smile slowly pulls on the corners of my lips as he gazes at them. 

Clearing his throat he starts to sit up, “Do you want some food?”

“Please, I’m shockingly hungry.” I almost couldn’t respond fast enough. 

After a couple of minutes, I can’t help but move into the kitchen with him. 

“You know,” I start, “it’s really unfortunate that they never kissed at the end.” 

“You think so?” he glances over.  

“Mhmm,” I say, “You can’t tell me you weren’t waiting for it.” Folding my arms over myself, waiting to see if he argues against it. Even though there’s not a good argument against that. 

“Mmmmm...” his voice gets quiet. " It probably would have been a good one, too, huh?” He leans against the counter, holding his hands out to me. 

“I feel like it had to be, right?” I move closer, and he smiles as I take his hands. 

“Maybe something like,” he pulls me into him, “this?” 

His hands held my jaw, pressing his lips into mine. Slowly, we moved against each other, my hands pressing against his chest. He lingers over my mouth for a second; his smile grows as he looks at me. Oh, oh no. The butterflies in my stomach go crazy as he smiles a breath away from me. 

“Yeah, that would work,” I mumble. We’ve kissed countless times at this point; I mean, we literally had sex less than 24 hours ago.. Twice even. Something about him today is making my body react differently.  

The oven beeping scares the shit out of me and brings me back to real life as I flinch, still in his arms. 

We fall back into our regular routine of telling each other little stories that we can recall as he makes food; I’m just physically present rather than watching him through Facetime. And it’s not three a.m. 

Not even eating could stop us from laughing about some ridiculous story he was telling me about him and his brothers as kids. I could listen to his stories all day, how he’s so happy when he’s talking about them.

“Should we watch your favorite now?” I ask quietly.  “It is November now.” 

He beams over at me, “I’ll never turn the opportunity down.” 

He steals my plate away from me once I’m done eating, putting all our dishes in the sink. I watch as he just takes care of everything without question, which only encourages those pesky butterflies. I didn’t know who was in control of my body when I stood up, moving over to him at the sink. 

“You can go get comfy if you want,” he tells me, glancing over.

I shake my head at him, “Not yet.” 

His face was visibly lost, grabbing the towel from behind him to dry his hands off when he turned to me. I move into him, wrapping my arms around him. 

“Oh?” he mumbles against me, pulling me tight into him. I soak in the feeling of his arms and chest against me; it’s becoming one of my favorite feelings, and that’s terrifying. 

We just stood there quietly for a moment until I finally said what had been on my mind. 

“Thank you,” I whisper. 

He leans back to look at me, “For what?” 

“Everything,” I start, “You didn’t have to do all this for me, but.. I just really appreciate it.” And you.

“Sometimes we need people, but we don’t know how to ask for that,” He tells me, his calm tone lacing the words. “You deserved this. I couldn’t just send you to be home alone after that.” 

My throat tightens at his words, and I can feel my breathing get heavier; oh, he’s–. 

His hands rub my back a few times before sliding down the back of my arms; he giggles as he says, “C’mon, let’s go so you can laugh at me for loving this movie too much.” 

Sitting back onto the couch but quickly fell into a more comfortable position this time, pulling a blanket over us and tucking his arm back around me. He’s slumped against the arm of the couch, and one leg stretched out so I can lay against his chest. It’s hard to focus on the movie when I’m listening to his heartbeat in one ear and feeling his hands holding onto me, with the subtle little thumb rubs to remind me that he’s still there. 

“This movie really is good, isn’t it?” I mumble. 

His chest vibrates as he giggles, “I’m glad you agree.” 

The warmth coming from him is comforting, but the sudden heaviness of his arms around me makes me look up. He looks so delicate as he’s drifted off to sleep, sweet boy. I snug back into him, just enjoying the occasional little sounds of his breathing.  ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

The sound of the door opening startled me awake; I don’t remember falling asleep. I saw Josh and Quinn sliding their shoes off and quietly walking through the apartment. I made eye contact with Josh, sitting up a little to acknowledge him. 

“Hi,” I whisper. 

His grin shines even in the dark, “Well, hello there.” 

“I can wake him up, so you two can do whatever,” I say, not wanting to inconvenience the two of them. 

“Not necessary, love,” he mutters, looking over at his twin, who’s still out cold. “He hardly sleeps before four a.m. Keep him warm, and I’ll see you in the morning.” He shoots me a little wink as he pads off to find Quinn. 

Looking back at this precious sleeping boy, he probably needed the day off. I reach down, grabbing one of the throw pillows that had fallen off the couch. 

“Hey,” I whisper, carefully letting my hand rest on his cheek for a second, “lift your head for me.” Seeing his eyebrows pop up like he didn’t fully hear me.

“Mmm,” is all that comes out of him. His arms pulled me back into him, making me giggle quietly. 

“Jake, let me help,” I laugh out, trying to push myself up again, but he’s tightening his arms around me. Peeking up, he has his eyes closed, but his little grin makes my heart flutter. His silent protest keeps the giggles coming from me. 

“Baby, come on,” slips out; my face warms after calling him that, but his arms relax a bit so I can sit up. “Here, scoot down a little.” He never opens his eyes, but he listens, moving so he should be more comfortable. Slowly, he reaches up, his hand holding my chin and pulling me to him; he gives me one very tired kiss before he mumbles, in the cutest, little, husky tone, “Thank you.” 

“Of course,” I whisper back. I move his leg over so I can squeeze between him and the couch cushions. My leg draped over his, pulling myself into his side and snuggling my face into his neck. His arms tightened around me for a second before I felt his hand run down the back of my head, leaving it there as he kissed my forehead. I can feel his lips smile against me; closing my eyes as a tear sneaks out, hopeful that he doesn’t notice. 

I lay there, listening to his heart slow and his breathing change as he drifts back to sleep. I was just looking at the necklace he had on carefully, trying not to wake him. Occasionally, I softly scratch his chest, just trying to be in the moment, even if the tears are still slowly falling. His hand moved from my side to his stomach, so I decided to take the chance. I grab it and bring it up over his heart with mine, lacing my fingers into his. The sight of it caused a slight smile on my face despite the tears falling this time. 

“Oh, Jacob,” I whisper to him, “what am I supposed to do with you?” 

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Seventeen

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Pitch Perfect SpookFest Day 2 - R is for Run

Words: 3282

Summary: Chloe goes out for a run, but soon wishes she’d stayed in bed.

Notes: A vague summary, but I’m honestly not sure how to summarise this one other than a run from hell. I started running this year, and I came up with this fic while on one of my first 5K outdoor runs. 

A million apologies because obviously I’m several days late on this one. I’d hoped to have it done by Saturday but I was nowhere close, and both Saturday and Sunday turned out to be pretty busy days.

Trigger warnings may contain spoilers so if you want to avoid those, skip past them.

Trigger warnings: Themes of depression and suicide

Read on AO3

@pitch-perfect-spookfest

-

“It’s Sunday,” Beca groaned, rolling over in bed at the sound of Chloe’s alarm. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, one eye closed against the sudden bright light. “It’s 7 am, you animal.”

“I’m just going for a run,” Chloe replied, quickly silencing her alarm and getting out of bed. “Go back to sleep.”

Chloe whipped off her pyjama top and began pulling on her gym clothes. Beca blinked a few times and propped herself up on her elbows. 

Chloe rolled her eyes and smirked. “Go back to sleep,” she repeated. “I won’t be out long.”

“You went for a run yesterday,” Beca replied. “I thought you were meant to take breaks?”

“It’s fine, it’s not like I’m running a marathon or something. I’ll just do 5K.”

“She says like it’s nothing,” Beca said, shaking her head. “You said your ankle was hurting.”

“I didn’t,” Chloe replied, pulling her hair into a tight bun. 

“You said it felt spongy,” Beca countered, cringing at the thought. 

“I mean…” Chloe tilted her head and lifted up her leg, rotating her foot. “It feels a little weird, but it doesn’t hurt.”

“Don’t you think that’s maybe a sign you should have a day off? If you wanna work out so bad, I can think of something for us to do.”

Chloe laughed. “And who says I can’t do both?” she said. “You aren’t going to talk me out of this, so are you gonna go back to sleep?”

“That depends, are you gonna stretch before you go?”

“I always do,” Chloe said. 

“I think I can stay up for a little longer,” Beca replied, settling back into bed. “Wouldn’t want to miss the show.”

“You’re a dork.”

“Uh huh. Less talky, more stretchy.”

Chloe disappeared into the bathroom once her stretches were done, and Beca began dozing again almost immediately. 

She was woken up by the feeling of Chloe pressing a soft kiss to her cheek.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said. 

Beca caught hold of her wrist and pulled her back for a kiss on the lips. 

“Is everything okay with you?” Beca asked. “Like, really okay?”

“Yes,” Chloe replied. “Getting outside and exercising is all part of the plan. It’s good for me, it helps clear my head.”

“I know,” Beca said. “And I’m glad you have something to help you do that now, I just…” she trailed off, her brain still half asleep. “You’ve been running like every day this week. I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Chloe replied. “I’m fine.”

“And you’d tell me if things got bad again?” 

“Of course,” Chloe said. She kissed Beca again. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Beca said, finally releasing Chloe’s wrist and sinking back into her pillows.

-

After a five minute warm up walk, Chloe’s pace picked up and she started running. 

When she had left the house, it had been the perfect October morning for a run. Clear skies, bright sun, and a crispness to the air that Chloe knew would become welcome as soon she started running.

But by the time the walk had ended, the clear skies had been replaced by grey, and a mist had started rolling in off the sea. 

Chloe didn’t mind though. She’d never run in fog before, and liked the idea of doing something new today. 

They hadn’t lived in this little seaside town long, but Chloe had already established a 5K route. It started in the park and then continued down a stretch of path covered either side by trees and grass. At the end of the path was a road that, once crossed, would lead her to a promenade along the seafront. From there was the pier - which she ran up and then down - and then it was onto the more uneven sand-covered tracks which led all the way to the beginnings of the cliffs. The sea on one side, and the grass-topped dunes on the other. From there it was back to the sidewalk and a straight run home. 

The playlist Beca had curated for her was a perfect mix of musicals and pop to help keep her tempo up, and at this moment Chappell Roan was singing Red Wine Supernova over the sound of the waves crashing in the distance.

Chloe wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt better. 

She knew Beca was worried, but Beca didn’t need to be worried. 

Chloe was better now. She was good. She was outside and exercising and that darkness that had begun consuming her in New York was gone. 

She didn’t even think about it anymore. 

The path took a sharp right and Chloe followed it down the hill and beneath the canopy of trees. 

The leaves had begun falling in the last few weeks, and the normally clear path was now almost completely covered in hues of orange, yellow, and green. Beneath her feet, the leaves were slick and slimy, almost pounded flat against the path, like they had been painted on. She slowed her pace, careful not to slip, and followed the path down and around until she reached and crossed the road. 

The move to this town had been Beca’s idea.

“Are you an old timey doctor sending me off to convalesce by the sea?”

“Yes,” Beca said. “You have a case of the melancholies so we need the sea air to blast it out. I was thinking of getting some leeches too, since you have sad blood.”

“You’re a dork.”

Beca had suggested this place because it was quiet and calm, and no one was likely to know or care who Beca was. 

She had blamed herself and her overnight rise to fame for the resurgence in Chloe’s anxiety and depression. 

Chloe hadn’t agreed - this had been something she’d dealt with since she was a young teen after all - but she couldn’t deny that the sudden appearance of paparazzi everywhere they went, and seeing her wife’s name plastered over every gossipy news site, had made it worse. 

The final straw had been an article Chloe had seen written about herself, with a picture of her and Aubrey holding hands outside a bar. The headline implied cheating, and her social media had been flooded with hate messages only hours after it had been posted. Chloe had been told to kill herself no less than 52 times. 

She had counted.

Like tally-marks in a column, she had counted.

“Beca, I swear I didn’t-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence. Jesus, you do not need to justify holding your best friend’s hand to me.”

The wind had picked up slightly by the time she had hit the promenade, and Chloe was grateful for it. 

It slowed her pace, made her work harder, and cleared out any spiralling thoughts she might have hypothetically been dwelling on.  

She smiled at an old man walking his dog, and gave a nod to the runner coming in the opposite direction. 

She was good.

She was feeling good.

She increased her pace again, and felt the ache in her legs.

Good.

This was good. 

She had gotten into running in college but had fallen out of the habit in the years they’d lived in New York.

At a suggestion from her therapist she’d started up again in this new town, and the bug had quickly taken hold.

The fog was thicker now, and she couldn’t quite judge how far along the promenade she was, but she knew she was approaching her favourite part of the run.

The pier.

It was a mile long stone structure, and at the very end was a lighthouse. One side had a wall that came up to Chloe’s hips, and the other was completely open. It was wide enough for four people to walk comfortably side-by-side, but there was still the thrill of danger that, with one wrong foot too close to the edge, you could slip off and into the sea below. 

There was a moment when running along it that Chloe looked forward to every time. When the beaches on either side would fall away into the sea, and there would be nothing but open ocean around her. 

Chloe loved it. It felt like the whole world dropped away from her leaving nothing but the pier beneath her feet and the infinite ocean stretching out all around her. 

It was addictive, this feeling of breaking free and escaping. 

Today it would be different, she knew. The fog - which had steadily gotten thicker - made it impossible to see the pier stretching out ahead of her, and the ocean either side was completely hidden too. 

Never mind, she thought. I can do it again tomorrow. 

She took a sharp left and began the run up the pier. 

It was a strange feeling, running in the fog. Chloe likened it to running on a treadmill. There was no sense that she was making progress. No idea how far she had come or how far she had left to go. It was like running in a dream. In a void. 

The fog closed around her and, without the usual warning tone that let her know her earphones had died, her music stopped. 

“Shit,” Chloe muttered aloud. 

She was sure she’d charged her earphones the night before. She was sure she’d checked them that morning. 

She didn’t want to stop running to investigate, so she decided to just endure the rest of the run in silence, or as silent as it could be being so close to the sea. 

It was then that, without the music to drown it out, Chloe realised that she couldn’t actually hear the sea. 

She had done this walk with Beca a number of times, and you could always hear the sea. It crashed against the rocks at the base of the pier, and was often louder than their conversations. 

Chloe couldn’t hear any seagulls either, which was also strange. Chloe couldn’t remember the last time she hadn’t heard one squawking.

Then Chloe realised she couldn’t hear anything at all.

Not the sea. Not the birds. Not the occasional bark of a dog, or a parent calling to their child. Nothing. 

It’s early on a Sunday morning, Chloe reasoned with herself. Everyone is probably still in bed. 

Even the birds? Came another voice in Chloe’s head. 

Chloe shook her head, and kept up her pace. 

Her ankle had started feeling weird again, and there was a slight twinge in the side of her knee. 

Maybe Beca was right. Maybe I’m pushing too hard and I need to take a break. 

There was a sharp pain in her back. An old injury she had sustained building IKEA furniture when she and Beca had first moved to New York all those years ago. She aggravated it sometimes by sleeping in a weird position, or spending too long sitting in one spot, and now it seems she’d done it by running. 

Annoyed with herself, and with how the run was turning out in general, Chloe decided that once she got off the pier, she would keep running forward, instead of left and down towards the cliff. She would cut the run off early. Go home and take a shower and then crawl back into bed with Beca. 

She judged she had maybe another few minutes left before the pier would end and she’d run around the lighthouse and then back the way she came. 

She kept running, the only sound coming from her feet hitting the ground. 

She waited to see the lighthouse loom into view. 

She’d expected to see flashes from it long before now. It should have been on, warning the ships of the rocks and shore ahead. 

But there was nothing. 

Just the endless grey of the fog. 

Assuming her pace had been much slower than she’d thought, Chloe checked her watch. 

She didn’t like doing this in a run, because it made her too aware of her speed, her form, and how long she had left to go. She liked to just run and then check out her stats when she got home. 

Now, however, she wanted to know how fast she was running. How long she’d been on this pier. 

But her watch didn’t show that. 

It didn’t show anything, not even the time. 

The screen was a jumble of shapes and colours, as if she was trying to read the time in a dream. 

Great, first my earphones and now this. 

With the intention of pulling out her phone from her running belt, Chloe slowed to a walk and then eventually a stop. 

The fog closed in around her, and suddenly Chloe felt white hot pain. 

It was everywhere, all over her body, and it startled Chloe so much she let out a scream. 

The only feeling she could relate the pain to was when she’d once ran along the beach on a windy day, and had been blasted by sand that had been picked up by the wind. Except now the sand felt closer to glass. 

Chloe looked at her arm and saw pinpricks of blood begin to bloom on her skin. 

Run, an urgent voice in her head said. Run! 

She turned on her heel and started running again, back in the direction of home, and the pain on her skin eased. 

What the fuck is happening?

-

There was no way to know how long she’d been running, but it was long enough to know she should have been home a long time ago yet here she was still on the pier.

She didn’t dare slow down but she knew this pace wasn’t sustainable for much longer. Every part of her was aching, and her exposed arms were covered in a coating of dried blood and tiny cuts.

Blood had begun blossoming through the toes of her white running sneakers, and her heels felt like they had been rubbed down to the bone.

Surely she would reach the end of the pier soon.

Her breathing was laboured and there was a painful stitch in her side. Tears had been falling steadily down her cheeks for what felt like the last hour.

She didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to get home.

She wished she’d stayed in bed that morning.

Was Beca worriedly pacing their home right now?

Was she out looking for her? Calling her name into the fog?

Chloe felt a jolt of fear at the thought of her wandering out onto the pier and getting trapped just like Chloe had.

She tried to pick up her pace - to force her legs to move faster - but her body simply refused to cooperate. She had no energy left to spend.

Her left foot hit the ground and then her ankle rolled.

She hit the ground hard.

Elbows and knees hit first, the impact reverberating through her arms and legs. Beneath her leggings, the skin on her knees tore. Her chin scraped against sandy concrete.

And the fog closed in to rip up the rest of her skin.

This is how I go, she thought. A literal death by a thousand cuts.

She curled herself into a ball, eyes squeezed shut to protect them, and she thought of Beca.

Thought of how she’d looked that morning, half-asleep yet still beautiful. A crease of worry between her eyebrows that had been there for a long time now.

Ever since that night.

The night that prompted Beca’s sudden hiatus from work and eventually their move.

Chloe remembered the whirr of Beca’s printer that she had borrowed for the occasion as she printed off all 52 comments telling her to kill herself.

She read them through again, organised them in a neat pile, and placed them under the note she’d written her wife.

Chloe remembered pills. The smear of her blood against the side of their bathtub.

The sound Beca made that she wished would get out of her head.

Maybe I died that night, Chloe thought, as the tiny shards of glass reopened the barely healed scars on her arms. Maybe this is hell.

She tried to move, tried to stretch out her arm to push herself back to her knees, but it was difficult. Her hand slipped against the sand beneath it - a new graze to add to the collection - and she fell again. She stretched her arm out to try again, but felt open space where the ground should have been.

I must be near the edge.

It dawned on her that this was her way out. A faster end than being sliced up by a million shards of glass. 

Who knew how long that would take?

All she needed to do was roll to her right, and she would crash against the rocks at the base of the pier.

If that didn’t finish her off, the sea definitely would.

She felt… disappointed.

She really had wanted to get better.

She didn’t want to hurt Beca like this. Not again.

No, there had to be another way.

It would be easier to stop.

No.

Just one more roll and you’ll be free.

No.

No more pain. No more guilt. You’re allowed to stop fighting when it gets this hard.

“No!”

Chloe yelled the word until her voice was hoarse. The fog filled her mouth and cut into her tongue and throat but she didn’t stop yelling.

She spat out a mouthful of blood.

She had fought hard to get here and she wasn’t giving up now. 

If the sea was to her right, that must mean the wall was to her left. 

Maybe there were two ways off this pier, and she didn’t have to choose the way that ended her life.

Instead of rolling right, she rolled left. Again and again and again until she hit the 2 foot wall. 

She kept her eyes closed as she began pulling herself up the wall.

Her hands gripped the top, and she pulled herself into a standing position. She knew she must be leaving bloody smears against the stones. Once upright, she tried to lift a shaking leg over the wall, but it wouldn’t go high enough.  

She moved her hands until they were gripping the other edge of the wall and she pulled herself over, not caring she was about to drop head first into sand and rocks and tufts of razor sharp grass.

Her music came back on in a deafening blast as Chloe hit the ground on the other side of the wall.

One earphone was gone, and through that ear she could hear the sea and birds and sounds of life.

She started to cry.

Tears ran down her cheeks and mingled with the hundreds of tiny cuts on her face.

The pain was blinding, but she didn’t care.

She didn’t care because she was alive.

Chloe opened her eyes and saw the fog was gone. Her body was awash with dried and fresh blood and the cuts stung in the cold October wind.

She lifted her arm to check the time.

The screen of her watch was cracked, but she could see it was only 7:35 am.

She started to laugh but it quickly turned back into a sob.

She pulled herself up on shaky legs and began a slow walk back home.

Beca was in the kitchen when she got back.

“Oh hey, you’re back earl- Oh my god!”

The mug she was holding hit the ground and shattered, but Beca didn’t even notice because she was already hurrying towards her wife.

When Chloe spoke, her voice was rough as sandpaper.

“Bec, I don’t think I’m okay after all. I think I need some help.”

[imdoingaokay]

What if Rook was the HoF and the LI's child? Who would figure it out?

warnings - spoilers for Veilguard! especially some spoilers about the companions! please advise!

a/n: omg what is going on with me? I can't stop typing lol.

I tried to keep it vague on... everything lol, especially if Rook is biologically related to the HoF and their LI or not. I also tried to keep the HoF/Rook's gender vague as well. (I'm also thinking about doing the other games... maybe... y'all didn't hear that from me though)

There’s a hint of familiarity when everyone sees Rook. Something about them. Their accent, their stance, the way they fight. It’s all… familiar. 

They’re young. Late teens or early, early twenties max. They don’t even remember The Fifth Blight, and yet, they know so much about it, repeating stories of a time not experienced by them. It’s… strange.

Everyone knows that they should just ask Varric. That seems like it would make the most sense, right? But that’s a little hard to do and… well, it doesn’t matter. They discuss it all amongst themselves often, pooling together their knowledge. Unless Rook fesses up first, they’ll figure it out… sooner or later.

Alistair:

Warden - It’s Davrin who figures it out first. No ifs, ands, or buts. He puts two and two together rather quickly. Maybe it’s the similarities in appearance, maybe it’s the overwhelming knowledge of the Wardens, more so than a normal Warden would know. Regardless, there’s something that’s… different about Rook. He’s fairly likely to ask, but he may have some difficulty. He doesn’t want to simply ask “Are you related to The Hero of Ferelden?” or “Are you related to The Grey Warden Alistair?” but he also doesn’t want to not ask. Eventually, when the pair get some time, he mentions the similarities between Rook and The Hero, and if Rook doesn’t get it, he’ll give up and just ask.

King - It’s Taash. It’s ages ago when they saw Rook’s face in a portrait (one that was stolen, but that doesn’t matter) from Ferelden. Maybe it's a family portrait with the whole family, maybe it's just Alistair and Rook, or maybe it's just Rook. But... they stand so regally, it’s the type of portrait that Taash commits to memory. They bring it up point blank (honestly, if nobody does bring it up before them, Taash will be the one to ask), probably during a group meeting so everyone knows.

Leliana: Harding is the first to notice the similarities between Rook and The Spymaster. She tries to look back into her mind, thinking of a time, roughly a year after Corypheus was defeated, when a small visitor came to Skyhold, clinging to Leliana’s leg like their life depended on it. They were so young, and Harding barely got a good look at their face. It made sense that she wouldn’t recognize Rook immediately. If Rook doesn’t bring up Leliana or recognizing Harding, Harding may not bring it up at all. The most Harding may do is bring up Leliana, waiting for Rook to mention their relationship. If Rook doesn’t get the hint, Harding will let it go and will be okay with never knowing. That is until Taash asks.

Morrigan: Bellara is the first to notice, just because she sees some similarities and then begins to overthink everything until she comes to the conclusion that Morrigan is Rook’s mother. However, she is the last person willing to ask, unless she blurts out her suspicions at one point. If Bellara doesn’t ask, Emmrich will. Simply because, despite Morrigan’s best efforts, she shows Rook enough affection to remind Emmrich of the affection he holds for Manfred. One quiet evening in the library, he finds the courage to ask about the relationship between the two. By the end of the conversation, if Rook is willing to discuss their parents, Emmrich feels a bit closer to Rook… and a bit closer to Manfred.

Zevran: This depends on if Rook looks similar or is biologically related to Zevran or not. If they look like Zevran, Lucanis definitely clocks them fairly quickly, especially if they’re a rogue. Lucanis may have met Zevran, and he can definitely see the resemblance. He’s fine not bringing it up, it’s not like Zevran has a good history with The Crows. That is, until Spite decides to bring it up, mentioning that Rook smells familiar. That ends up being the opener to a long discussion on Rook’s family. By the end of it, Lucanis learns a lot, not just about Rook, but also more on the "failed Ferelden job" he'd heard about.

On the flip side, if Rook isn’t biologically related to Zevran, and doesn’t look like him, it would be Neve who notices first. She’s a detective, she’d figure it out. Maybe Rook mentions their family, or maybe they clam up at a question or two, Neve gets curious and starts digging until she finds out. And when she does, she doesn’t bring it up, for a while at least. When she doesn't, it may be to ask Rook if their parents are alright and if they need someone to look out for them. Regardless of what Rook says, Neve is pleased that she was correct in her assumptions.

[gillyweedgrl]

You should be watching Pit Babe! - A Brief Review

Saddens me to think how many people are missing out on a great show because they think it’s not worth more than a trash watch, if that.

I mean, realistically, is it the most amazing cinematic work of all time? No, not unless pretty-boy power bottoms with daddy issues are your thing, which in my case they are, so let's talk about Pit Babe!

Note: I've tried to keep the spoilers to a minimum, they're mainly in the tags and links so follow them at your own risk, you've been warned.

Honestly, Pit Babe is a pretty damn good show, especially if you A) pretend the Omegaverse factor doesn’t exist and take the show for what it is and B) you don't mind not knowing what's going on half the time, just sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.

Overall, Pit Babe has got a good production value, a slightly absurd yet entertaining plot, a great choice of cast with amazing chemistry and pretty decent acting skills amongst the mix of seasoned actors and newbies.

For a totally biased fair and balanced review: There are some details that are left vague instead of being explained in depth or at all (yet), but that’s to be expected when you adapt a novel into a movie or series. It would get boring for the audience if the pace was interrupted to explain all those little details that we’re likely to find out along the way anyways (shout out to those who've watched the latest episode; finally!).

There are also some scenes that feel like they’re not as necessary and some background/plot devices that made a little more sense in the novel but I personally don’t feel like they detract too much from my viewing experience.

Babe (played by Pavel) and Charlie (played by Pooh) as the main leads do a really good job at shouldering a large percentage of screen time. Charlie comes across as happy-go-lucky, a bit clumsy/goofy, entirely fearless and a little naive, which is mostly true, but there's clearly more to him than that. Right from the start Babe is clearly someone guarded, detirmined and skilled at what he does (racing cars and having sex) and he has a very tight cirlce of people he trusts. There's a winning combo right there, quite tsundere/sunshine from the outside but definitely more breath the surface that gets exploded as they go.

Way (played by Nut) is Babe's best friend and racing companion, they've been racing together at Team X-Hunter for years but there's clearly more than friendship on the mind for Way, though the feelings appear to be one sided.

Alan (played by Sailub) is the owner of Team X-Hunter and an all-round cool Uncle (which the whole team call's him (despite barely being in his mid 30's). He's kind but firm, he cares for his team like they’re his family and it does seem as though they’re his only family.

And the rest of the cast consists primarily of:

Team X-Hunter:

Dean (played by Lee); a junior racer with slight douche vibes

North and Sonic (played by Michael and TopTen); everyone’s babies, they’re junior racers and content creators

Jeff (played by Pon); the newest member of the team, he’s a part time mechanic and full time conspicuous

Pete (played by Ping); the money guy Alan brings on board to sponsor the team

Team Red Racing (the rival team):

Winner (played by Pop); the guy who never seems to win against Babe

Kim (played by Benz); the new racer they hired to beat Babe

Tony (played by S Vorarit); Red Racing's newest benefactor and *shock horror* Babe's former foster father (try saying that ten times fast)

Kenta (played by Garfield); Tony's right hand man

Then, there’s the 🌶🔥🤯

I, personally, enjoy a little spice/heat in my shows. It’s not necessary for every show, of course, but I do think that when it serves a purpose to the story and it’s done well then it can be quite enjoyable and this cast/production team is doing it really well.

As I said, the chemistry between the cast really is amazing (both on and off the screen, if you're interested in that kind of thing) and although the spicy scenes aren’t nearly as abundant as they are in the novel, there are some really good ones. I decided to bite the bullet and binge read the novel over the past couple of weeks, I blame @pharawee’s breakdown posts for those sleepless nights, and it was worth it for me but not necessary for watching the series.

Lastly (as if this post isn't long winded enough as it is) there are a handful of things in this series that we don't see too often in BL's and make it worth watching even more:

It's got race cars, murder attempts, mafia influence and supernatural powers (at least half the characters have one).

There's no evil ex-lover out to get revenge or get back together with one of the mains (thank the BL gods).

It's got a Soft Top/Dominant Bottom dynamic where the title character is both super masc and a pretty princess.

And we can't forget, it is technically an Omegaverse series (or rather, it's Omegaverse-lite) which none of us saw coming!

Anywho, to conclude; yes, you should be watching Pit Babe. No, you don't have to read the novel to understand what's going on because none of us understand what the hell is going on at any given time. Charlie and Babe are fucking around and finding out, the rest of us are just long for the ride, Alan and Jeff are having a whole ass rom-com-drama in the corner, the babies are making their content and having a blast and the others aren't quite on the map yet (or are they? *wink, wink*), but I sure hope they will be soon!

If you made it this far, thank you and are you okay? Do you need to have your brain checked?

[momochi789]

I was supposed to write a paper, but my brain decided to fixate on an au that vaguely entered my mind at 3 am. Now it’s 6 am and I have a whole chart to share and ask questions about.

So I’m really into Linked Universe @linkeduniverse and I’ve also been watching Dungeon Meshi. Mush them together and that’s the au.

Before going into this, note that relationships between characters are altered so things don’t get weird. I’m not a big shipper. So if there is any romantic relationships, it’s likely between Link and Zelda (Or some other canon relationship).

All the notes are done in Procreate and I was writing with my finger so don’t judge my handwriting.

Red means I’m pretty certain that I want that character in that role. (Still taking input on them tho)

Blue means I have an idea but, I’m uncertain.

Purple means I’m really uncertain and would really like some input.

The Touden Party came pretty easy to me. The only issue is Marcille. I initially had Legend as Marcille, but I have some pretty fun ideas if Legend is Shuro instead.

At the moment I have Twilight as Marcille. Which I honestly like. I mean he uses dark magic of which Chilchuck/Four has some gripes about, has big sibling energy with Laios/Wild, and is an adult who Senshi/Time views as younger than he is. The issue comes in with Twilight’s relationship with Falin/Hyrule. I don’t really know their dynamic that well so idk if Twilight would match Marcille’s desperation. So input on that would be nice.

I quite like the idea for Shuro/Legend’s party. The only grievance I have with it is that Legend is my favorite Link and I would like him to be more present for the story. But if I must sacrifice favoritism for the story I will.

I had initially been hesitant about these roles but I’ve decided that I quite like them. Though I’m super unsure about who should be Mr and Mrs Tansu.

Wars as Kabru was a no brained to me. I think out of all the Links he’s the most assimilated into society and is the resident human expert. I have general ideas about the rest of the party, but Daya is giving me some trouble.

To be honest, I’m in the middle of watching the anime so most of my knowledge about these characters are from being on social media. So I would greatly appreciate input on these ones in particular.

These ones I just thought would be fun.

As for the Canaries, they’re also a group I know very little about so help would be appreciated. One thing to note is that I thought it would be fun if all of them were characters from Hyrule Warriors.

I have literally no info on these characters aside from them having a relation to Senshi/Time. So idk if the Kokiri fit.

Lastly this is a list of Minor characters. These ones aren’t too important to the au, but I thought it might be fun or interesting. I don’t have many ideas for it tho. So if anyone has any suggestions, I’m open to hearing them.

If you suggest a character because a plot point that could be a spoiler for me, still feel free to share anyways because I will enjoy the show regardless of being spoiled.

This isn’t anything super serious. I might make a couple mini comics about it. But this is all just for fun. I’m not trying on a be super rigid with the story.

Thank you if you read all of this. Feel free to dm any suggestions.

P.S. I finished writing all of this out around 7 am so I’ve been working on this for the past 4 hours at an ungodly hour lmao

[collectiveclams]

Trying my best to figure out what these guys look like in my head before I go look at the fandom’s generalized designs for the characters.

A friend of my twin got us into the show and a week later we’re at season 8!

I definitely need to tweak Cole’s design a lot- I want him to have a more strongman build & revamp his entire face design. But at the very least I’m happy with getting his hair the way I want!

Kinda hard to see, but Zane’s got little screws for earrings! I honestly didn’t account for how much older the faceplate would make him look, I intended him to look way more boyish.

Rambling about my current HCs of the Ninja’s appearances below:

I’ve been having a bit of an trouble deciding what various flavor of Chinese & Japanese these dudes should be based on. Considering the show is based on a 2010s vague idea of “Asia” and carries traits of both Japanese & Chinese influence, I’m just going to use both. I don’t know what sorta general consensus the fandom has of their appearances bc I have barely interacted with the fandom, so if this violently contrasts with that then yippee I have original thoughts, I guess.

-Kai is Japanese. Kai, being vain and caring more about training than Jay for example, has a more aesthetic build that’s definitely form more than function. Like a natty powerlifter who’s not competing. I’m not sure what height he should be, but if he’s taller his muscle definition would appear smaller so I’ll have to keep that in mind.

- Nya has initially a more functional build- far less muscle definition than her brother. Not outwardly buff and doesn’t have pronounced muscles, but can fairly easily haul a 100lb hunk of metal from a scrap pile to her workbench. But after becoming the water ninja, her new training gives her more pronounced muscle definition. Initially shorter than Kai but grows taller as the show goes on.

- Cole is southern Chinese. He’s got a strongman heavy set build. I envision him as fairly short so his muscles can be a little more pronounced. If you stripped his muscle definition from his ninja training away, I still want him to look like one of assholes who haven’t worked out a day in their lives but still somehow looks jacked.

- Zane is what pops up when you look up “Chinese teen male stock photo” because he needs to look like The Most Generic person ever. No muscle definition at all on this dude. He’s a nindroid & so there’s no need to include muscle decision to show that he’s strong. He’s either average height or slightly on the shorter side bc gravity is a bitch and the taller make a humanoid robot, the more balance becomes a bitch to deal with. So average height or short Zane it is.

- Jay is Uyghur so I can get this dude his reddish-brown hair. Minor muscle definition. His isn’t for aesthetics like Kai, he’d rather do ninja training than do the types of sets & pushing to failure needed to achieve more pronounced muscle definition for aesthetic lifting. Jay needs to be shorter than Nya. He’s definitely taller than Cole but I need him to be just an inch shorter than Nya because that’s funny to me personally.

- Lloyd is Japanese. Solely because Oni come from Japan & I got spoilered that Gargamon is an Oni later. Lloyd is a stringy ass kid at first & has no muscle definition at all. During his Green Ninja training before the Travelers Tea, he’d be trained for efficiency & not for aesthetics with the deadline of him fighting his father possibly being around any corner. After Travelers Tea he likely kept his training to function over aesthetics and would share similar muscular definition to Jay & Nya. And he’s tall. His dad is tall as shit with 4 arms. I want this kid to go through the Worst gangly teen era anyones ever seen and only barely fit his form once he finishes growing.

Additional thoughts:

And as a big comic nerd who owns around 800+ comics (might be more around 1000 now?), hoo boy I have so many thoughts on Lloyd and Jay liking Starfarer. I cannot wait to make a fic that’s just Lloyd and Jay ganging up against Kai over some incredibly wrong take of the comic he absentmindedly said and trapping him in a 3 hour long conversation about frequent mischaracterization and mishandling of the characters in Starfarer & how what Kai said was wrong. I just need a fic of Jay and Lloyd talking to each other about their favorite runs of Starfarer and complaining about a tie-in/crossover comic that’s written particularly bad, or complaining how an author completely misunderstood Fitz Donnegan or complaining over an author change & etc. I just need to make a fic of these boys talking about average comic book fan things.

[damagedintellect]

Dazai Osamu x reader

💌 Reading into the palms of isekai bullshit: Chapter 6 💌  

Summary: You were no stranger to isekai bullshit. It’s not like you had a problem with it. The genre took over the anime scene for years now but you try to stay away from thinking about how you would handle the situation. The last time you thought about inserting yourself into your favorite show you wrote a 100k word xReader fic for your favorite characters and you didn’t want to spend all your time consumed by the brainrot again. Never again, you promised yourself that was the last time you’d let the devil on your shoulder win. You clicked on chapter 1 to start the adventure over again but when you opened your eyes and saw Dazai O-FUCKING-samu getting choked by Kunikida you honestly hoped it was a dream.  

Notes: Another isekai so I can play around with BSD like dolls.   

 This will be the last update for a while because Artfight starts in a few days and it takes place during the whole month of July. The theme is Vampire vs Werewolves which has me laughing my ass off, IT'S LITERALLY BSD THEMED I CAN'T IT'S TOO MUCH!!! I'm planning on siding with Vampire's since *SPOILERS* home boi is under the vampirism.

💌 Word count: 2,457 💌 <= Previous Chapter | Next Chapter =>

Everyone celebrated the fall of the guild that night. You shared a few drinks with Yosano and Kunikida but noticed that Dazai was missing. He must be at the art gallery with Hirotsu. Things were only going to get harder moving forward. This will probably be the only time you could have a drink and relax. You don't even want to think about it because you have a feeling Ranpo is going to threaten you for answers during the cannibalism arc but at the same time he’s seen that your knowledge isn't always indefinite. It's either that or once again Chuuya is an outlier. Before you could refuse it, one drink turned into two and the next thing you knew you were sitting in Yosano's lap as your arms were tangled with hers as you shot back your sixth or seventh bottle. Both of you were cackling about something Ranpo said as Kunikida was bringing you both water. You don't think you drank the water either. You only vaguely remember sharing another drink with Yosano before attempting to get back to the dorms. Kunikida was escorting Yosano while Ranpo begrudgingly helped you up the stairs. He was complaining that his room was directly below yours and he would have to walk twice as far. You told him you could make the ten feet on your own as he cheerfully bid you farewell for the night. The last thing you remember was inserting your key into the lock before you passed out.

Dazai decided to grab a drink at Lupin's after meeting with Hirotsu. There was a lot to think about after the fall of the guild and he knew he needed to take a break before looking into the rats. He had an eerie premonition he'd be crossing "his" path again but for now he needed to de-stress. Feeling the smooth burn down his throat calmed his active mind somewhat but it wouldn't be enough alcohol to get him tipsy. He rarely let himself get that loose so after the drink he casually strode home taking in the quiet walk observing the interesting nightlife.

When he got to the top of the stairs he knew something was off. He felt a presence but who could be out and about at this hour. All he knew is that thankfully it wasn't Chuuya. When he turned the corner he saw (Y/N) on the floor, key in hand just outside his room. Dazai couldn’t help the chuckle that passed his lips. She must have had drinks with Yosano. The doctor had a knack for drinking everyone under the table. Odd that you were on the floor outside his room but if he had to guess Ranpo got lazy. Dazai knelt down beside you to see if you were awake. The moment he was eye level with you he lightly tapped your shoulder as he spoke.

"Silly little Belladonna, you can't sleep out here. Let's get you to bed okay?"

You slowly stirred from the movement but it was clear you were too far gone. "Dasaiiii!" you slurred as you threw yourself on him nuzzling into his warmth. It had been cold on the floor. You were sad after your key didn't work and you were too exhausted to go to someone else's room. Thinking back you had your phone in your pocket you definitely could have called for help but it slipped your mind until right now. Once you lost your ability to stand you opted to sit down for a bit. That's when you fell asleep so this must be a dream. "Of course I'd dream of Dazai. God mmm pathetic." You scoffed at yourself, not hiding your smile because you didn't realize you were thinking out loud.

The brunette laughed at your outburst but quirked an eyebrow at its context. Past his name you mumbled the rest. "You're pathetic?" He was curious as you shuffled closer to him pulling away enough to look him in the eyes, he didn't move.

"I'm pathetic cause mmm in love with Osamu,” You said it so soft and gentle he thought he misheard you until the panic set in your voice. “Dream-zai you can't tell him! Because-" You stopped talking trying to come up with a reason. Ultimately you didn't know why you shouldn't tell him. Yeah of course rejection was a possibility but the way you see it your love is more unconditional. At this point you would rather Dazai be Dazai than have the feelings be mutual. You wanted him to know someone cared without expecting anything in return and that he can have what he wants without it being taken away. Or at least you think that’s what he wants, wait what were you talking about? Oh right! "I hav to tell hm so don't say anyfing or I’ll kill you myslef!" You pushed your fist to his chest as a threat.

Dazai blinked. You love him? Why? He's tried to threaten you, teased you and has tried to annoy you at every opportunity since you started working beside him at the ADA. It worked well for everyone else to be kept at arm's length but he guessed your little game was the difference. It did mean that you both shared some, moments. Why were you always so difficult and why did he feel warm like he wanted to believe you. His heart was beating erratically and not by his doing, he hated it. "We should get you to bed, you're already speaking nonsense." He helped you off the floor but you clung to him. It was cute but it made ushering you inside his room harder than it needed to be.

The moment you got inside you flopped down on his futon unprompted. The look you gave him at the prospect of him joining you was adorable and it made his heart clench as he frowned, getting you some water. You were much more honest when you were drunk. He almost missed the playful banter to get you to spill your secrets. He still couldn’t put a finger on how your intuition was flawlessly comprehensive or at least from what he’s tested and witnessed. Chuuya refused to give him any details of your meeting. He expected as much but there was a sliver of hope that Chuuya might spare a few details. Instead the redhead didn’t bother which could only mean that you were able to answer his questions otherwise he would have given Dazai an earful about how he was just wasting his time. Which brings him back full circle at how much could you realistically know by looking at people’s palms? It’s been eating at him slightly every day because there was no logic behind it. The fact that you know so much about him and his past yet you so proudly claimed to love him vexed Dazai. Which begged the question,

“Why do you love me?” He handed you the glass as you happily gulped down every last drop. “Dream-zai has to promise not to tell Osamu first.” You held out your pinky for him to take. Everytime you called him by his first name he felt miffed, there was this incessant tingling across his skin that made him feel warmth in the pit of his stomach. He knew you were only using it to distinguish between what you thought was the real and fake Dazai but it was starting to drive him up the wall that you couldn’t tell the difference. Then again he couldn't tell if he liked or hated the way hearing his first name from your lips made him feel. When he extended his pinky he noted how sweaty his palms were. Why was this happening to him he didn’t understand.

“For the longest time he couldn’t see the value in living and I can sympathize with that, I don’t know if he still doesn’t but he thinks he isn’t worthy of it and for someone so intellectually gifted and self aware it’s cute that he’s so emotionally inept. With his smile he could get away with murder and he knows it, he knows he’s not a good person but still chose to side with helping people and is willing to sacrifice everything for it. But it must be lonely to push everyone away because deep down he’s terrified of losing everything important to him. He refuses to have wants and desires without trying to rationalize or justify them in some way and that’s stupid.” You laughed eyes half lidded, not even sure if any of this is making any sense to Dream-zai. The water seemed to help sober you enough to speak in full sentences at least but you still slurred a few words here and there.

Dazai on the other hand has been marveling you wide eyed at a complete loss for words. Where did all this come from? He’s even more confused now and his heart was working overtime to the point it ached. He needed you to stop talking before his “symptoms” got any worse. He couldn’t fight the urge to reach out as you were blissfully unaware continuing your line of thought. 

“At the end of the day I don’t think he knows that love can be unconditional. That people don’t need a reason to care for him-”

It barely registered that he placed his lips on yours but when it does you smile. Your eyes slipped shut as you slumped backwards on the futon. It took Dazai a minute to process everything that just happened as he threw himself on the floor next to you both hands clawing at his face as the realization hit him like a bus. It was the only way to get you to shut up. That was a lie and he knew it but it’s what he kept repeating to himself as his blood ran cold. He wanted to run away but if he did then you’d get suspicious. Would you even remember? This was supposed to be a simple game of chicken. It wasn't supposed to end with him developing feelings of any kind, but no one has ever been so painfully honest with him before. His heart was still racing as he was trying to find an out. He got up and started pacing. He looked back at you, he knew what he must do.

The next morning your head was killing you. It was a mistake to drink with Yosano but at least you can say you did it. You tried to sink back into the covers but you noticed it was hard to shift your position almost like someone was holding you in place. You remembered Ranpo accompanying you back to the dorms. Your eyes shoot wide open as you fight the dizziness. The more you moved the more you felt the need to purge the contents in your stomach. You took some deep breaths as you weighed out your options. You decided to slowly remove the hand around your waist first but when your fingers felt bandages your mind was sent into a different panic. Part of you was relieved it wasn’t Ranpo but this wasn’t any better. The more you woke up you realized you were only wearing your undergarments. WHAT DID YOU DO LAST NIGHT!

Before you could spiral any further, strong arms pulled you closer as Dazai’s sultry morning voice almost lulled you back to sleep. “Good morning love~” he kissed the crook of your neck “How’re feeling?”

You leaned into the pleasant sensation for a moment as you snapped back to reality. You could panic all you wanted in your head but you couldn’t let him have the satisfaction. “Like shit but I really should have seen this coming honestly.” You shifted to lay on your back feeling the liquids slosh around. You were going to be sick. Dazai was laying on his side using one hand to prop himself up and  using the other one to curl your hair behind your ear and out of your face. He was looking at you like you were his world. It was charming if not almost unsettling since you don’t remember anything from last night at all. “So Love~” You mimic the pet name “Care to fill me in on what we got up to last night?” Based on Dazai’s current lack of shirt and snarky demeanor you could only imagine that you guys finally had at it but it doesn’t bridge the gap for how you ended up here with him.

“Ah so you don’t remember.” Dazai acted smug but hearing that was a huge relief to him. The last thing he needed was for you to remember him being mildly flustered by your words alone. He let his finger trace along your jaw tipping your chin up at him. “Want me to jog your memory?” 

“Depends on who caved, but you could always give me a demonstration.”

How peculiar, he wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. You must genuinely not remember anything from last night. Out of all the ways he planned for this to go down he half expected you to see through him immediately as you have in the past. Maybe the alcohol was to blame? Whatever the case he intended on using this to his advantage as he leaned in to close the distance between you. The longer you guys spent fooling around the more time Dazai had to ignore his responsibilities. Victory was sweet, the kiss however taste of stale liquor. 

He smirked as he pulled away “Last night you waited outside my door and threw yourself at me confessing your undying love for me-” You started laughing but stopped feeling a wave of nausea. You sat up gesturing your hand for him to give you a minute to assess whether you should go throw up or not. Even if you could keep all the fluids inside you it was probably better that you did. It would be less for your liver to process later. Dazai seemed to understand as he helped you to the bathroom. He even helped get your hair out of the way and rubbed circles on your back while he mentioned this is why no one drinks with Yosano anymore. Once you got most of it out, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Going back to last night, I call bullshit.” He was being too overly dramatic for you to gauge any semblance of what really happened.

“Aw but I thought you trusted me~”

“I do, which is why I'm not even going to bother with what I don’t remember.”

He frowned, you weren’t playing fair at all.