#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.

[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.

[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.

[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.”

~~~

[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

[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

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

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[massivedrickhead]

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.”

[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.

[sharuruwrites]

Ambivalence pt. I

Summary:

“He totally stood you up, Ito-chan!” The girl with a braid slammed her hands on the table, rattling the glass of strawberry milkshake. “Also, he's trash!”

“Stood me up?” Shion shrugged. “I think you got the wrong idea. I’m only seeing him as a friend.”

“Don’t be stupid! Don’t defend him! Don’t ever cover for him!” The anger in the latter’s navy blue eyes matched the frown curled on her lips. “He should have given you a heads up earlier! Even a friend wouldn’t do this to you!”

Masterlist

A/n: I'll post up the previous chapter somewhere this week before things get hectic.

Timeline: Gojo - 16 (first two scenes), 17 (last two scenes) Shion - 15 (First two scenes), 16 (last two scenes)

TW: Self-loathing, Unintentional self-harm, Nightmares,

Tags: Spoilers JJK season 2, Hidden Inventory arc spoilers, Angst

—-----

Hair? Not too messy, not too well-kept.

Make-up? Not too much, or too little.

Outfit? Not too simple, or too eye-catching.

After one quick look at the mirror for final touches, Shion left her room with a small spring added to her step. One would assume that she is a young maiden in love, on her way to meet the person who held her affections.

Yet that wasn’t the case.

Today was the day Gojo Satoru, her self-proclaimed “favorite senpai”, would treat her to lunch. After the whole soy sauce fiasco a few weeks ago, the upperclassman searched far and wide for a way to apologize for his mean-spirited prank. Shion was skeptical about Gojo’s offer. She changed her mind seconds later when she saw the mouth-watering pastries from Gojo’s text.

As she exited her dorm, a familiar cheery voice called out her name. Dressed in casual clothes, Haibara greeted Shion with a bright smile. Honestly, if he and Gojo were in the same room, the energy they gave off was enough to power a whole village–except Haibara’s energy would always be wholesome, while the latter’s energy was usually fueled by menace.

"Aren’t you taking your sister to Universal Studios today, Haibara-kun?”

 “That was…supposed to be the plan, but I accidentally slept in because of how tiring our assignment was last night.” Haibara rubbed the nape of his neck, already resigned to his sister’s future scoldings. “What about you? You look very nice today, Shion.” 

Shion glaring at her classmate before folding her arms, struggling to contain the embarrassment flaring up inside her. “I’m going out.” 

"Neat!" Haibara grinned before giving a pat on her shoulder. "With one of our senpais?”

“I guess… you could say that.”

"Are you going on a da-"

"Look at the time," Shion glanced at her imaginary watch. "I don't want to be late for the train."

And, that’s how she ended up waiting half an hour at the cafe with no call or text from Gojo. She would like to think she’s a very patient person, considering the annoyances (Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru) she had to deal with on a daily basis. But this was really testing her patience.

She was already on her third plate of chocolate crepe, and second cup of coffee when her phone beeped three times.

From: Your favorite strongest senpai (⌐■ - ■) ノ

（ｉДｉ） Sorry kouhai-chan! (T - T) Yaga-sensei forced me to go on a mission today! I’ll spoil you rotten to make up for it! (ღゝ◡╹ )ノ♡

“He totally stood you up, Ito-chan!” The girl with a braid slammed her hands on the table, rattling the glass of strawberry milkshake. “Also, he's trash!”

“Stood me up?” Shion shrugged. “I think you got the wrong idea. I’m only seeing him as a friend.”

“Don’t be stupid! Don’t defend him! Don’t ever cover for him!” The anger in the latter’s navy blue eyes matched the frown curled on her lips. “He should have given you a heads up earlier! Even a friend wouldn’t do this to you!”

Now, one might wonder who and how Shion met this spunky girl in front of her. She vaguely remembered that she planned to leave her table, and order pastries for her classmates. Out of nowhere, this girl approached her with an enthusiastic greeting– a greeting akin to welcoming an old friend.

“Sorry, but, may I ask who you are again?” Shion admitted. “I don’t remember names very well upon first meeting.”

“Riko!” The girl beamed, patting herself on the chest. “You can also call me onee-san!”

Big sister? That’s not right. Shion couldn't possibly be younger than her. Judging by Riko’s height and appearance, Riko would most likely be a middle school student. As much as she wanted to correct Riko, she threw the idea out of the window. Who was she to douse the girl's newfound determination? Especially when she felt such sincerity coming from her offer?

Shion nodded reluctantly. "Alright, Riko-neesan."

Riko pinched Shion’s cheeks. The eyepatched girl groaned in pain at the same time that Riko squealed with excitement.

Riko let go of her friend’s cheeks before cupping her own in delight, “I knew it was a good idea to come here.”

“Why?” Shion asked, rubbing her cheeks to numb the pain.

“You’re like a cat abandoned in a cardboard box on a rainy day.” Riko mimed a square shape. “I can’t turn a blind eye to it, knowing I can help the poor kitty.”

Shion blinked a couple of times at Riko. Was that supposed to be a compliment or an insult? Did she look that pathetic and disappointed outside of the cafe?

“Enough about me!” Riko flipped her braided hair to her back. “What about you? Since you consider this no show a ‘friend’, does that mean you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“Is anyone trying to date you?”

“Not really.”

“A crush then?”

“Crush?” Shion pinched her brows together. “I saw my teacher crush a watermelon between her thighs once.”

And it had caught the attention of many beach goers, who begged Tsukumo to do it again. Tsukumo refused, warning them that the next demonstration would be with their heads instead–which, in a strange way, only seemed to encourage them further. Although Tsukumo ignored the interested spectators, Shion had a feeling that the attention boosted her teacher’s ego.

Shion startled at Riko's loud laughter, causing some patrons to cast glances at their table.

“Not that kind of crush! I meant a crush as in someone you admired for a while.”

Admired? There was no doubt that she admired Geto Suguru. Aside from his playfulness, which paired well with his best friend’s, Geto was a considerate and handsome gentleman. Their teachers, Watanabe and Yaga, described him as a model student and a model sorcerer. Should she start acting like Geto then? So that way she could get her own recommendation earlier than expected?

Except there was this weird phenomenon she felt around him–nervousness always swelled up inside her when Geto was nearby, and her tongue became all tied up after just a single glance from him. 

Amidst all this thinking, another person popped into her mind. — Gojo Satoru.

The thought confounded her.

He was attractive, although to preserve what's left of her quiet life, she wouldn’t admit it till the end of time. But his handsomeness wasn’t something she admired him for. There must be something in Gojo that caused her brain to see him as her ‘crush’.

Yet she still held that Six-Eyes user in a respectable regard whether it be as an individual or as a sorcerer.

The novels she read gave an idea of what kind of character Gojo would be. The loud ones were the ones who were lonely. They yearned for someone to understand them as they’re too different from anyone else. In his case, that person was Geto. She wouldn’t be surprised if those two ended up together in the end, considering they’re already close, matching each other’s personalities, bickering and acting like a married couple. 

As for her? 

Shion and Gojo walked the same path of solitude but with different starting points, and different end goals. Gojo Satoru was ‘blessed’ into a world he matters, ‘cursing’ people and spirits who dared to oppose him. Meanwhile, Ito Shion was ‘cursed’ into a world with no memories, 'blessing' her free from the threads of her unknown past.

Admiration wasn’t the word she’s looking for. Envious, perhaps.

Then again, those were her measly assumptions. Who was she to make judgment on a guy she met only a few months ago? It’s pathetic that she’s comparing herself–a literal nobody–to someone who had everything.

The eyepatched girl nodded, making Riko squeal in delight. “And, what do you like about this guy? Is he cute? Handsome? Pretty?”

“He’s annoying. Not to mention, he constantly bugs me as if it’s his favorite pastime.” Shion rubbed her temple. “Yet he’s someone I know I can rely on when the need arises.”

The starry-eyed girl’s expression turned sour, like she'd bitten off a good chunk of the sourest lemon and swallowed it down in one go.

“I think he likes you back, Shion.” Riko said, shaking her head. “What he’s doing is acting like a typical snotty nosed brat in elementary school who doesn’t know anything other than how to be mean to their crush.”

“How did you know?” Shion tilted her head to the side. “It happened to you?”

“With this face? How could it not?” Riko gestured to her face. “I have experienced it lots! It’s cute when it’s obvious and all, but you know how boys can be, testing your damn patience until you throw a punch.” 

Underneath the table, Shion’s hands formed a fist. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, admired her? That seemed hard to believe when there’s nothing admirable about her to begin with. Did he know something about her that she didn’t? 

If Gojo Satoru had a connection or a piece of her past, he could either become the stepping stone for her answers or an obstruction to getting them.

She hoped it wouldn't be the latter. ‘Complicated’ was the best word to describe what would happen if she had to put Gojo’s neck on the chopping block. She would hate to clean up the mess that would inevitably come after.

“Enough about crushes,” Riko stood up from her seat,and pumped her fists. “It’s time to hit the arcades and play hard!”

After paying for their meal, Riko dragged Shion to a nearby shopping district. The streets were filled with people in various stages of life. Some were shopping with friends or family, discussing the different outfits and accessories displayed nicely on the plain mannequins. Children admired the coolest or the cutest toys, while begging their parents to buy them. Others were waiting in line for their turn in different food stalls, eager to get their hands on their orders. 

However, Riko and Shion had to take a quick detour at a nearby boutique. Upon entering the shop, Riko beelined towards the display rack full of various accessories. Whoever was in charge of stocking the merchandise didn’t do a good job. Shion itched to organize the products to her own liking. Bright and bold patterns placed next to the calm and simple pieces were quite the eyesore for her.

“Can you try and find a headband that will suit me?” Riko asked while browsing through the display. “It got ruined the last time I did laundry…which was also my first time.” 

“How about this one?”

Shion picked up a white cotton fabric. She slid it underneath Riko’s hair before tucking it in properly to secure her hair in place.

“What do you think?”

“I see perfection, that’s what!” Riko beamed. “I’ll buy--wait, where are you going, Shion?” 

Shion froze on the spot, and slowly turned her head to Riko while her hand was occupied with her wallet. 

Shit.

“L-let me pay for it, Riko-neesan!” Shion waved her free hand frantically as Riko’s eyes targeted her wallet. At this moment, she wished she was much taller than Riko. But she wasn’t, and so couldn’t keep her wallet out of reach. Once Riko saw her student ID, Shion had no idea what would come next. Chaos and disorder ensured.

“Oh no you don’t!” Riko grabbed onto Shion’s wallet, attempting to pull it away from her. “I’m not going to let you pay for it!”

In the midst of the struggle, Shion restrained herself from using her full strength, scared that she might hurt Riko in the process. Reluctantly, she loosened the grip and watched Riko’s smug expression turn into something different. Riko’s eyes widened and her attention went back and forth between her new friend, and the plastic white card that clearly listed Shion’s birthday.

“Y-You’re older than me!?” she said, horrified at the shocking revelation.”How come you didn’t tell me?!”

“Well,” Shion put her wallet away into her bag after whisking it away from Riko’s hands. “You told me to call you onee-san earlier and-” 

“You tricked me like a clown!”

Shion scratched her cheek with her finger before she clasped her hands together. “Then…could you tell me how I can exactly make up for it?”

As if she flipped a switch, Riko’s expression lightened up. “Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll forgive you this time…Only if you defeat me in Mario Kart! I’m warning you that I’m best at it! Never lost once!” 

Unfortunately for Riko, Tsukumo’s intense training had instilled a competitive spirit in Shion. The eyepatched girl dominated all three cups in 150 CC–crushing Riko’s soul while at the same time earning her forgiveness and respect. Riko’s dramatic loss attracted a group of boys who challenged Shion in exchange for their hard earned tickets. One by one, they dropped like flies after every track as Shion won first place in all of the races. 

Amongst the defeated wails of high school and middle school boys, Shion and Riko pursue other endeavors in the arcade. They sang their hearts out (mostly Riko) in karaoke, danced like nobody’s business in DDR, and took lots of pictures in the photo booth. Riko used the tablet inside to decorate each picture with artistic doodles before printing them. Yet, they had to part ways under the dusky orange sky, which also happened to be the busiest time of the day for train passengers. Whether it be entering the carriage, or waiting for their train to arrive, they all had a goal in mind -- to go home.

“Thanks to your winnings, I managed to get everything I want before I go!” Riko lifted her paper bags full of prizes and plushies in glee.

“Before you go?” Shion questioned.

“Oh, um…” Riko dropped her shoulders in defeat before sighing and facing Shion with downcast eyes. “I’m…actually moving away from…Tokyo, to somewhere far from my friends. I don’t want to, but what choice do I have, when everyone says that it’s the best choice for me?”

Shion was stumped by Riko's line of questions. Yet what Riko felt–anxiety and fear of uncertainty–was something that Shion unfortunately knew. Tsukumo had enrolled Shion in Jujutsu Tech without the girl’s knowledge. Shion had protested and stubbornly refused to admit that she was scared, because she had only known the world through Tsukumo’s guidance. After all, Tsukumo was there from the moment Shion woke from her coma.

Yet after hearing Tsukumo's words, Shion became reluctantly open to the idea of attending, and that reluctance eventually turned into gratitude for her teacher's push.

Despite the constant ugliness of the cursed world, Tsukumo Yuki pried open a door for her to experience and appreciate the smallest things in life.

“Sorry,” Riko scratched the back of her head while wearing a restrained smile. " I shouldn’t dump this onto someone I just befriend-”

"It's scary right?" Shion gently took Riko's free hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "My teacher told me it's alright to be scared and anxious when you’re doing something outside of your comfort zone. Tell them what you're feeling, and even if they don't get it, the heaviness in your chest will no longer be there, right?"

Shion watched Riko's eyes become glassy with unshed tears before letting out a shaky laugh and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her cardigan. Not too long, she pulled Shion into a tight hug.

"Thank you," Riko said, her voice muffled by Shion's shirt. "I'm glad I got to know you, Shion."

Shion returned the hug awkwardly with pats on Riko's back. Man, she really needed to get used to affections such as this.

"Shion," Riko called. She pulled back and showed her smiling face with teary eyes. I know it's not fair to ask you this, but let's meet again, alright?"

Something twisted horribly in Shion's guts. A tinge of foreboding. The possibility of never meeting her again.

Shion took a deep breath before giving Riko a smile.

"Of course. Let’s meet again, Riko-chan.”

—---------------------------

“W-why?” she croaked. 

Shion never got an answer to this question. Instead, a sharp breath escaped from Shion’s lips as something pierced in her abdomen and twisted, eliciting a yelp that cut through the silent winter night. As the knife pulled out, a warm and metallic-smelling liquid spilled from the wound.

Her vision was getting blurry, her body grew heavier, and her hand became colder as the red pool beneath her grew bigger.

A sharp tip pressed against her neck, and the familiar bright emerald eyes above her had turned lifeless and filled with contained anger, ready to burst at any moment.

"To understand you, I need to have the same sorrow as you have… no… perhaps even worse than that." The voice was monotonous and cold. The sharp tip dug deeper into her neck. “Die for your sake, Shion.”

Shion gasped loudly, waking herself up in a panic. Her ragged breaths came fast as her hands gripped firmly around her neck. Gradually, her fingers tightened their grasp.

In these moments, she remembered her mentor’s calming presence.

‘Focus on my breathing, Shion.'

The heavy feeling in her chest eventually ebbed away as she continuously repeated the breathing exercise that her teacher taught her. Lips closed as she inhaled slowly through her nose, followed by a long exhale out of her mouth.

When she could no longer hear Tsukumo's voice echoing inside her head, she let go of her throat and sat up. With one last deep breath, she let out the rest of her stress. She wiped off the cold sweat off her forehead with her palms and looked around.

The digital clock on her bedside read 12:45 am. She was still wearing her uniform. Was she that tired from today's mission? No, no she wasn't so exhausted that she’d fallen asleep in her clothes. Typically, she would skip a meal in favor of more rest. Yet she remembered Watanabe scolding Haibara for nearly burning the kitchen down…so she must have had enough energy to stop by the kitchen earlier.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she made her way to the bathroom, hoping a quick splash of cold water would dispel the existing discomfort in her body.

Turning on the light, she saw her own appearance reflected in the mirror. Bed mess hair, dark crescents under her eyes, and the fresh bruises on her neck must be during the nightmare. It felt weird to see herself without the eyepatch. She wore it nearly 24/7 with the exception of going to sleep and taking a bath. She had no qualms when Tsukumo heavily suggested that she conceal her right eye, and Shion had assumed it was for her own sake.

Yet seeing it had no effect on her wellbeing, why did she have it in the first place?

As if responding to her own curiosity, Shion watched as the color of her eyes flickered between gold and blue until a sudden sharp pain tore through her skull. She clutched her head in response, steadying herself on the edge of the sink. The plain and simple bathroom was now covered with dark, crooked black lines. Red and blue vein-like lines spread across her entire body.

Once the pain subsided, Shion looked at the mirror once more. Her eye color went back to its normal shade of amber, and a bloody streak fell from her tear ducts, staining her cheeks. Shion clicked her tongue before splashing her face with cold water. She reached for the towel to dry her face and then opened the medicine cabinet to reach for her prescription.

With a pop, she opened the container and peeked in to find only a few sleeping pills left sitting at the bottom. She frowned at the sudden small amount. Not even three weeks had passed by, and she was already running low on her supply.

"Looks like I have to ask Watanabe-sensei for a refill again," Shion muttered, putting her sleeping pills back into the cabinet. Then she went back to sit down on the edge of her bed.

Before she had entered the student life, the nightmares were nothing but a common occurrence. Typically, she brushed them off with a nice cup of chamomile tea, lulling herself back to sleep. However, the dreams had integrated themselves into her life recently, with a frightening amount of ease. Her fatigue had gotten so bad that Watanabe personally intervened and prescribed her with medication to combat her sudden aversion to sleep.

It didn’t even help that the person in her dream changed occasionally. Most of the time, it was that person with green eyes, always staring at her with contempt. Once or twice she’d seen Geto’s purple eyes filled with yearning, or Nanami’s silent yet contemptuous gaze. It caught her off guard once when–in a dream– her eyes met Haibara’s and she saw the kind boy who never seemed to hold a grudge looking down at her with a disinterested expression.

Riko sometimes appeared, but her eyes were different; unlike the others. Her eyes were full of sorrow, as if she wanted more from her life than her fate as the Star Plasma vessel.

Upon seeing Gojo carrying Riko’s corpse, time stood still for so long that Shion believed it was frozen. Cursing Fate itself wouldn’t do anything to bring back her friend from death. In a twisted way, Fate had honored their promise to meet again. But instead of smiles and shared laughter, their reunion had ended with Riko’s lifeless body in the wooden casket, and Shion’s carefully crafted apathy during the funeral. She didn’t need the unnecessary attention from those who already harbored deep suspicions of her.

Yet because of her perceived ambivalence, rumors brewed amongst the attendees. 

‘Heartless child.’ ‘Traitor.’ The constant name calling nearly made her lose her shit. Shion was a nobody; as far as they knew, she had no connection to Riko. What kind of reaction were they hoping for? Should she wail on her knees for someone that everyone assumed she hadn’t known? Look remorseful for a crime that they suspected she had committed? Act belligerent by giving them all a false confession, bragging about how she had doomed them all with the vessel’s death, confirming that they were right to distrust her?

Those baseless accusations made Shion sick in disgust. Despite the warnings from her teachers telling her not to go, she went anyway, foolishly believing she could handle the suffocating animosity in the funeral. For an event to remember the dead, it felt like everyone except for the Tokyo faculty staff and her classmates were playing the blame game and all pointing at her. 

In spite of the fact that she was about to leave the funeral early and return to her room, Gojo Satoru whisked her away from the memorial to a nearby park. An unexpected diversion, but she welcomed it, and for once, she was grateful for his presence. 

Two cold bottles of Ramune shared between them while staring at the orange-kissed sky. No words exchanged, only silence with the occasional background noises. Children laughing as they were called home for dinner, the wind rustling through the trees.

What Gojo did was nice; he gave her a little slice of life, and tricked her into believing that Cursed Spirits, Sorcerers, and Techniques didn’t exist in the first place. 

She felt a few moments of peace, all thanks to that one guy who tormented her constantly, for no apparent reason. 

“I think he likes you back, Shion.” Riko said, shaking her head. “What he’s doing is acting like a typical snotty nosed brat in elementary school who doesn’t know anything other than how to be mean to their crush.”

A pointless thought. Whatever version Gojo painted of herself in his mind, he better scrap it and dump it in the trash. She would repeat this many times as she needed to, like a broken record. There’s nothing admirable about a nobody like her; nothing to desire, nothing to be envious of.

However, she hadn’t considered another possibility. What if Gojo was drawn to her for who she actually was? What if there was something about her for him to like? 

All this thinking made Shion tired, and her brain begged for her to close her eyes and sleep. Yet a single thought formed as her eyelids grew heavy. She slowly drifted off into slumber.

‘It’s…weird…but…nice… ’ 

—--------------------------------------

Life truly goes on regardless of who dies and who lives. No pause or stop button to press. But instead of stopping or even slowing, Shion felt her own life accelerating as one tragedy struck after another. The only thing she could do was to try and keep herself afloat against the raging rivers of time. 

But then something unexpected happened: Shion was assigned to a mission with Gojo for the first time. It made life for her bearable.

“You can fucking tease me all you want after this.” Shion harshly whispered, tightening her hold around his shoulders. “Just let me hold you, dammit. It’s unfair you were there for me when no one came for you.”

Ever since that day, Gojo slowly integrated himself further into her life, whenever he had the time. He was–and still is–the annoying menace she knew. He still pulled pranks that made her cuss him out, and there was plenty of childish banter between them. Yet from time to time, they basked together in each other’s company whether it be in silence or Gojo talking enough for the two of them, and Shion chiming in with occasional answers.

It was unexpected, but she didn’t mind the gradual change–and funnily enough–she looked forward to his presence more. A little bit of happiness appeared in her whenever he came by or smiled at her direction. 

He reminded her of an energetic puppy. Adorable.

Speaking of Gojo Satoru…for once, she found herself wishing that Gojo was next to her right now in the library. Shion stared at the book taunting her from the top of the shelf, just out of reach. She rolled her neck and then her shoulders, tired from trying to reach it. She did everything she could–jumping, tiptoeing, and shaking the furniture itself.

Scaling the wooden bookshelf was a stupid idea. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures.

On the small ledge of the bookshelf, Shion stepped on it as carefully as possible, balancing her weight while holding on to the edges. As she slowly made her way to the book, she could hear the wood creak. It was as if the bookshelf was warning her to stop what she was doing.

She ignored the warnings and extended her hand as far as possible. Her fingertips almost touched the spine of the book, but just barely. She had almost reached her goal–

The bookshelf groaned and began to topple. In an attempt to stabilize the furniture, Shion shifted her weight forward but her fingers slipped, and she lost her balance. She closed her eyes and braced for the hard impact of her fall. Instead of the hard wooden floor she anticipated, she felt the firm and solid arms of a person whose warmth was familiar to her.

She opened her eyes and saw Geto staring back at her. His soft yet concerned gaze truly left her feeling small and vulnerable.

"Suguru-senpai?" Shion blinked.

"Are you okay?" Geto asked, his eyes scanning her face. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm not." She looked away. The intensity of his eyes made her feel weird–like there was an intangible, messy knot in her stomach. She wiggled out of his arms and fixed her uniform.

"I knew you could be reckless, but I didn't think you would risk your life for a book," Geto teased. He pulled the book that Shion had been reaching for and gave it to her.

Shion muttered a small thanks as Geto chuckled softly and ruffled her hair. 

"So, what is it about?" Geto leaned over her shoulder, scanning the cover of the book in her hands.

"It's about curses, and Tsukumo-san recommended it to me," she replied. "That reminds me… What do cursed spirits taste like, senpai? That's how you gain control of them, right? By swallowing them?"

"Yep." Geto pulled back and nodded. "The taste? You're better off not knowing... I'd rather not worry you."

'Poor Suguru-san.' Shion thought.

As took a good look at him, her heart clenched. The soft light coming from the sun by the windows shone on his dull complexion. Exhaustion was evident, and weight loss was evident from his slightly sunken cheeks. There were dark circles under his eyes. His usually styled hair was down and disheveled, and the last time she'd seen him in this state was a few months ago.

‘He's stressed out again.’

“Are you getting enough sleep, senpai?” Shion cupped his cheek, but immediately tried to retract it. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“It's just from the summer heat.” Geto put his hand on Shion’s, keeping it in place on his cheek.

“Still,” Shion breathed, distracting herself from the sudden butterflies in her stomach. “You should look after yourself more, Suguru.”

The boy’s cheeks dusted with a reddish hue as she brushed her thumb against his skin. Oh, crap! She hadn’t meant to call him by his given name! She hoped his reaction wasn’t out of anger at the sudden informality.

Geto hummed in response and leaned further into the palm of her hand, his lips dangerously close to it. “Also, don’t be sorry. I don’t mind this if it’s you…”

They froze, suddenly finding themselves caught up in the moment. A loud cough from the librarian snapped them out of their trace, and Shion removed her hand on Geto's face. They both glanced at the old woman, and the latter's cold and judgemental stare had them feeling embarrassed and guilty for getting caught.

"PDA? In the school’s library?" The librarian crossed her arms, shaking her head. "You youngsters have no shame."

—----------------------------

"Thanks for letting me sleep here, and sorry for the trouble, Iori-san.” Shion said, plopping down on the spare futon. “I'm not comfortable with staying at the Zen’in’s family compound for the duration of my mission here in Kyoto.”

“Don’t be sorry, I too get disgusted at seeing Zen’in.” Utahime gave her a thumbs up. “Besides, I’m pretty sure a special Four Eyes will throw a fit when he finds out I let it happen.”

‘She sure is getting creative with her nicknames for Gojo-senpai.’ 

Shion’s fascination was soon replaced with curiosity. Were Gojo Satoru and Zen’in Naoya on bad terms? As far as she remembered from Tsukumo’s history lessons, their family clans held such bad blood between them that past clan leaders had resorted to killing each other. The current heirs mostly tolerated each other– except for the time when Gojo dropped by for a quick visit during one of Shion’s training sessions with Nanami and Naoya.

“Something on your mind, Zen’in?” Shion asked, wiping her sweat away with a towel. “You’re quiet for once.”

“It’s for the best,” Nanami remarked. “My headaches have lessened because of it.”

“Don’t mind him, Shion-chan.” Gojo said. “He’s going to say something stupid as usual.”

“If we end up against each other in this year’s solo match and I win,” Naoya stood up from his seat. “I’ll take you as my bride whether you like it or not.”

Nanami and Gojo held two different expressions. The blonde sorcerer tried not to show his annoyance towards Naoya. At most, he rolled his eyes as he quietly drank his ice cold water. Meanwhile, Gojo didn’t bother to hide his dislike. The repulsiveness of Naoya’s words was written all over Gojo’s scrunched up face. 

As for Shion, another idea popped into her head.

Before the school exchange event, Naoya kept visiting Shion at school each week and asking for her hand in marriage whenever they sparred. Of course, she declined his proposals as she considered herself to be too young to be engaged and she only saw Naoya as an acquaintance. He insisted her feelings would change, but marriage–with Naoya or anyone– seemed to be impossible for Shion to imagine.

Then again, Tsukumo had often told Shion that a jujutsu sorcerer must have loose screws in their head in order to do this work. Maybe this was Naoya’s own strange way of asking to be friends with her? Or perhaps rivals? The second choice seemed to be more believable with his competitive spirit.

Her teacher did say that competition breeds competence. Afterall, his advances had proved to be useful as she found a big improvement in her reaction time.

"Alright,” Shion pumped her fist with determination, looking stoically at her ‘rival’. “I’ll be looking forward to this year then!” 

“WHAT?!?”

That day, Shion nearly went deaf from Gojo’s loud reaction. At Nanami’s behest, Shion was sent to Watanabe’s office for a quick check up. Nanami thought she had a head injury, which didn’t make sense because Shion was completely fine – no concussion, broken bones or bruises; not even a fever. If anybody needed medical attention, it would be Naoya–who suddenly looked very distressed, his face red coloured, similar to a tomato.

“Speaking of that blue eyed brat,” Utahime glanced at Shion. “Are you up for a gossip session? I won’t talk your ear too much as you have an early day with Zen’in tomorrow.” 

Utahime cracked open a can of beer and poured a cup of apple juice for Shion while the latter pulled out a variety of snacks from her bag. Immediately, the sorceress launched into a series of rants as they munched in between conversations. It ranged from Gojo’s harmless little pranks to headache-inducing moments so painful that Shion was surprised that painkillers still worked on her. 

‘Despite the constant bickering, Utahime-san and Gojo-senpai got along so well...’

The eyepatched girl pinched her brows together. She didn't realize her hands clenched at the thought. Why did that make her uncomfortable? It’s not like she had something worthwhile. Utahime was one of the few sorceresses that Shion got along with. But Gojo? Shion liked to believe that they’d moved past being acquaintances, and sailed towards friendship. But the thought of Gojo also befriending Utahime made her feel strange, to say the least. How come she never got this feeling when she saw him with Shoko?

Could this feeling still be called envy? Or something else? 

“Seriously, what do you even see in that boy?” Utahime scoffed, lazily swirling her can of beer. “He’s annoying, obnoxious, loud, and has bad manners.” 

“In him? I don’t see his internal organs, senpai.”

Utahime stared dumbfoundedly at her friend. If Gojo ended up with an innocent person like Shion, she couldn’t help but worry for the latter’s sake. She had to do something before that annoying clown charmed Shion into becoming his wife--just like that asshole Naoya had nearly pressured her into marrying him.

Besides, she had to win the bet against Mei Mei. The betting pool on Shion’s relationship grew bigger and bigger each week. It came to an absurd amount that it matched the annual salary of a second grade sorcerer, and even Mei mei and Alex had joined in this affair. At least, that was what she caught wind of during a conversation between Gakuganji and Watanabe. It seemed like everyone was speculating about Shion’s love life.

Utahime, suddenly overcome with empathy, pulled Shion into an embrace.

"And that is why you should avoid boys like Gojo! They will take advantage of your naivety!" Utahime pulled away from the hug, hands still on the latter's shoulders. "Instead, why not go for Geto? At least he’s tolerable, unlike his best friend! And he certainly seems fond of you… You have a crush on him, which means you want him to be your boyfriend, right?"

“Boyfriend?”

Despite the sunny weather and the distance between Kyoto and Tokyo, Utahime felt the first blow of cold winter from Gojo’s glare. Strange, that guy wasn’t even here in the first place.

Meanwhile, Riko’s words resurfaced in Shion’s mind. Was that what Riko meant when she asked Shion if she had a crush? Not just admiring someone, but seeing them as more than friends?

According to her romance novels, becoming ‘more than friends’ meant the two parties ended up entering an exclusive relationship if the condition of mutual feelings was met. A relationship where showing affections such as kissing, endearing nicknames, and hand-holding were the standard. A relationship that puts heavy emphasis on intimacy and vulnerability towards each other.

DOES THAT MEAN?!

…

…

…

Shion leaned her head against Suguru's shoulder. “I don’t understand you, Suguru-senpai.”

“What do you mean, Shion?” Geto asked, shifting his position to have his arm draped over Shion’s shoulders and pulling her closer to him. 

“W-well,” Shion cleared her throat, diffident at Geto’s sudden close proximity to her. “I don’t understand what you see in me. I’m not mature like Mei-san or pretty like Ieiri-senpai or cute like Iori-san. Not only my appearance, but my personality is not really ideal-”

Her downplayed ramblings halted when she felt something briefly warm and soft on her cheek. She held her breath nervously before concealed her reaction into her boyfriend’s broad chest.

"But, I’m still here, aren’t I?" Geto laughed at his girlfriend's shyness when he caught a glimpse of the tips of her ears red. "Sorry, too soon for me to kiss you?"

Shion’s brain was all too eager to fantasize about this possibility–which meant Utahime was probably right.

Upon this realization, Shion slammed her head on the wooden table and buried her face onto her arms before producing a banshee-like screech from her throat that forced Utahime to cover her ears. 

“S-Shion?!” 

“I-is that what it's supposed to mean to l-like someone?!” Shion stuttered nervously, the redness on her face couldn’t go any brighter than a ripened tomato. "T-that I-I l- like Su-Suguru-senpai!?”

The eyepatched girl buried her reddened face deeper into her arms and groaned loudly. Everything she felt about that boy clicked in her head. The sudden clamminess of her hands whenever he's in the same room. The sudden acceleration of her temperature whenever he noticed her from a distance. And, the sudden happiness blooming inside her whenever he noticed her.

IT

MADE

SO

MUCH

DAMN

SENSE

This newfound information overwhelmed her. It didn’t help that her heart had begun to beat faster than normal, and her head spun while seeing stars. Wait, was she going to have a full on cardiac arrest if this keeps up?

Meanwhile, a boatload of dumbfoundedness struck Utahime. It was not in her agenda to witness Shion panicking from a sudden existential crisis. Unlike Shoko, whom Utahime had known for two years, Shion was someone she had acquainted herself with not too long ago. Due to her busy work schedule, Utahime never had the proper chance to get to know Shion. She never held much of a strong opinion towards the girl or her for to expect Shion’s current state.

Whenever Utahime visited the Tokyo campus, she always found the girl within the shadows, content to watch from the sidelines, and yet willing to lend an ear if given the time. Because of Shion’s no-nonsense and straightforward outlook, Utahime unintentionally claimed her as her therapist for her mundane problems. To compensate for Shion’s ‘unintentional therapeutic services’, she always brought sweets and snacks from Kyoto. 

Yet seeing how Shion had grown out of her stoic persona and bloomed into a shy flower, Utahime understood why a pair of mean, annoying idiots had taken special interest in her.

Because of the said interest, her maternal instincts kicked in.

This time, it was Utahime’s turn to comfort Shion. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of having a crush on someone,” Utahime said, giving her a few pats on the back.

“How can I not?!” Shion squeezed her eyes shut. “Especially after what happened in the library recently…”

Utahime leaned forward intently. “Tell me more.”

[whumpy-wyrms]

UMMM… IT’S TIME TO GET WEIRD, OKAY? Bill Cipher and Anton meeting and getting silly is not leaving my head and it’s HIS FAULT. book of bill spoilers probably and some vague tllr spoilers that i’ve already talked about before

something something it is five years ago from present day tllr and Anton is depressed as fuck for reasons i cannot say (but you all can probably put the pieces together by now). he’s alone because Pierce left, he’s the most sad sopping pathetic wet cat he has ever been, and he decides to do a shit ton of horrible experiments on himself and clones of himself because he has nothing left and science is the only thing that he knows. but even still, he has no goal and no motive, his clones become horrible fucked up abominations that are an insult to life itself. he wallows away in his own misery and drinks glowing green science liquid to the ease the pain of reality and fucks with his own memories and he really doesn’t gaf anymore about what happens to him. this is all canon btw

ummm Bill fucking Cipher notices a genius scientist who’s alone and sad and has nothing to lose. you know what that means!

Anton’s a weirdo, Anton’s an outcast i mean he was created by a mad scientist and has lived isolated in a secret lab doing science all his life for fucks sake. he has no purpose anymore and Bill decides to give him one. Anton has never really considered the possibility of inter-dimensional travel because he and Pierce had always been focused on their goal of immortality and the limits of the human body. so this is something new and interesting and something that has absolutely nothing to do with Pierce so he jumps at the opportunity.

Anton is also. sad and alone! he wants a friend so bad and he is sooo easily manipulated! he hates humans (Pierce) and does not care if this weird floating triangle demon is a danger to humanity because every human he has ever known has either hurt so many people including him (Pierce) or left him (died).

they make a deal!!!! fuck yeah!!!! they shake hands and blue fire and shit!!!!!

so Anton finally finds his purpose again. and that purpose is helping this weird little muse in his head build a portal to other worlds. he does not know that Bill is only using him to create a gateway to the nightmare realm and cause the apocalypse so he can take over the universe. and if he did know that, he may or may not change his mind about all of this i mean he’s a bit fucked up too

Anton is kinda like Ford in this part, he sees Bill as a friend and likes hanging out with him and misses him when he leaves for months at a time. he lets Bill enter his mind whenever he wants and possess him (Banton) and thinks he’s the answer to everything. they have fun together. they get silly together.

um obviously this does not last forever as Bill is a sadistic manipulative freak who was only using Anton for his own personal gain and after Anton found meaning to life again he kinda realized that he DIDN’T want the world to end after all. Anton is scared as fuck of Bill now and tries to kill him just like Ford and that definitely drives him to the brink of madness. Anton whumpee arc am i right

OR maybeee not maybe he helped Bill do it and weirdmageddon happened and it was a fun and joyous time. Anton is weird!!!! he might have actually done it that son of a bitch!!!!

also debating if i want Anton to just move to Gravity Falls after Pierce leaves. maybe he is just like Ford and just wants to study the weirdness there and then comes across some stuff and summons Bill. but i also like the idea of Anton building that huge triangular portal in his own lab.

Dew sadly wouldn’t be in this au because it takes place five years before Anton decided to get his shit together and get another actual test subject. maybe this is a good thing. Basil is here though and hmmmm i dunno what her opinion on Bill would be honestly. i don’t know if Anton would actually tell her about Bill but i think he would. maybe they’re all friends

i don’t know what else to say ummmm i probably won’t actually Write this au but im definitely gonna draw stuff for it maybe in the form of tiny little comics and silly drawings. the idea of Bill possessing Anton is the silliest thing ever it fills me with so much joy. i’m not sure if they would fix each other or make each other worse. those two are just two silly guys looking for chaos and who cares if they’re a bit fucked up and evil honestly. my two favorite blorbos who make me the most insane are both rotating in my head at the same time and i’m interested to know how this will change me as a person

hold on a minute here i just thought of something ELSE! let’s say this au takes place years after Dew and Anton hypothetically go their separate ways. in this hypothetical scenario let’s say that after Basil died, Anton decided to let Dew go for real because he felt bad or something (actual au that has been a WIP for months lmao).

Anton meets Bill and weirdmageddon happens oopsie daisy. Anton’s regretting it and escapes Bill and is trying to survive the apocalypse while also trying to figure out a way to take Bill down. thennn he finds Dew :3 out in the wild. Dew is scared because he hasn’t seen Anton in years and he’s scared he’s gonna be taken back but um also the apocalypse is happening and Anton seems pretty fucked up and maybe this is his best chance at survival. maybe Anton came to Dew for help because he is literally the only other person he knows in the world because Anton is a little freak who doesn’t leave his forest and socialize with other human beings. maybe Dew realizes that Anton had literally nobody else to turn to. besides Pierce i guess but let’s say that when Anton first met Bill, they both killed Pierce together because he hates him.

the point is that this scenario is so wholesome and silly like yeah Dew hasn’t seen his tormentor in years and now he’s back and all sad and asking for help saving the world from the apocalypse that he caused!! Dew really doesn’t want anything to do with him but! he also doesn’t wanna die! and Anton is the only person who knows what he’s doing here

cue Bill using Dew against Anton like how he used Dipper and Mable and Stan against Ford. Anton cares about Dew and will do anything Bill wants just so he won’t hurt him. crazy shit guys my brain wow my brain

i probably have more stuff to say but this is everything so far. if this au is cringe and dumb do not tell me that alright my autism level is catastrophic and i’m thinking so much about this. i’m also gonna get a bill cipher tattoo once i get the money because i’ve wanted one since i was 12, that’s how much this weird triangle freak means to me. and yall already know how much Anton means to me so yeah… this au makes me a very happy camper

oh SHIT!!! WHAT ABOUT MAX??? well uhhhmmmm ummmm i’ll think of something! i’ll definitely think of something and post about it when i do! (or yall can throw more ideas at me and i will eat them up pls pls feed me i mean talk to me about this au i need enrichment in my enclosure)

[andromeddog]

I love hearing about your OCs AAaAA

I'm curious, if you don't mind sharing, what does James think of Connor getting blown up? I remember on one of your posts you mentioned Connor and another one of your OCs blow each other up, and considering the answer to the previous ask, I really wanna know what your other OCs' opinion on it is (Specifically James though lol)?

If it's spoilers that's cool though, your OCs are just very fun to hear about!

anon you are spoiling me with these questions i have so much lore just sitting around of these guys and nowhere to put it. i’ve said it before but the best format for this story would be like a 300 chapter graphic novel but i don’t have the time/skill/patience for all that. anywho on to ur question

so yeah connor and anselm (guy with all the facial scars i draw sometimes)(he’s got a lot of his own baggage lol) end up blowing each other up. anselm is a stormtrooper and during the german offensive in 1918 he’s part of a group that storms the boy’s section of trench. while the scots are retreating, connor gets shot through the hip and can’t keep walking. james is with him but had previously been shot through the shoulder and can’t help pull him along. connor insists on staying behind so james and the others have the opportunity to escape danger but james is like hello what the fuck i’m not leaving you here??? they keep arguing about it but eventually james listens and does retreat. connor decides if he’s going to die he’s taking someone out with him - anselm eventually shows up and before he can finish him off, connor blows the both of them up with a grenade he’d kept hidden. and that’s how he goes out!

all of that being said his death is uhhhhhh a really big deal to everyone. connor was a really loud guy and his absence is really noticeable in their lives. hes also the only one of them to actually die during the war. they all have their own reactions and ways of dealing with it but james is definitely the one who takes it hardest haha

so ig peter and connor are the best place to start bc they have known each other for pretty much their entire lives- their moms are very close friends and the two of them are effectively cousins. their relationship is pretty antagonistic growing up, as peter is fundamentally unimpressed by connor’s bravado and connor just really doesn’t respect peter’s leadership (he thinks he could probably do a better job). they butt heads a lot a lot over the years. when connor dies peter is rly shaken up, he figured they would always be in each other’s lives, bickering and spending holidays together. peter’s got a big soft heart and is in disbelief for a while, as annoying as connor he’s supposed to be there. he keeps thinking he sees him out of the corner of his eye, keeps looking over his shoulder, and feels vaguely responsible for his death, since he’s the self appointed guardian of the group. though just as grief is starting to settle in, peter gets his knee thoroughly fucked up/his leg amputated and is sent home, so he has very little time to process connor’s death before he’s dealing with a major health crisis (spoiler alert once he’s home he really does not take either of these well)

for johnny the reaction is dull shock. connor was his self appointed Rival, someone who constantly challenged him and who always pushed him to be better, faster, smarter, and it’s only once he’s gone that johnny realizes how important that was. johnny is a really energetic guy and funneled a lot of that into his rivalry with connor, and without that in his life he is restless, itchy, and irritable. he doesn’t feel grief so much as a deep sense of disappointment; in all, connor’s death is just such a waste of potential. johnny honestly handles it the best, though it’s mainly by throwing himself into the situation at hand and helping james and peter, who are both much worse off than himself. once the war is over and he’s back home, he can’t help but notice how much quieter the world is without connor.

and oh poor james. since he’s physically there when connor decides to sacrifice himself, he is definitely left with a lot of grief and guilt and trauma over the whole thing. he regrets leaving the second he does and only follows through with it because it is connor’s last wish, and he feels he does owe him that. james is in shock for a long time afterwards. it feels like someone tore off a limb. it feels like there’s a part of him that is suddenly empty. it’s a wound that never really heals and one that he can never really talk about. how is he supposed to vocalize what connor meant to him? he can hardly admit to himself that there was something else there beyond friendship, it’s too precious and too delicate and it was theirs, and he couldn’t possibly share that with anyone else. james is left as kind of a shell in the aftermath, very quiet and withdrawn, and sticks very close to peter and johnny. there is just a certain weight that exists in him after connor dies, one that never really eases up and one he can never put down. connor was too important to him, and if he lets go of that sadness he feels as though he lets go of connor himself. james ends up living a long life, he eventually does get married and has children, but often still thinks of the war and what he lost

god this is so long and even then it feels abridged lol thank u again for asking heehoo

[asherlockstudy]

did you watch the last GME? what are ur thoughts

I did.

Once more I am so conflicted over it. I feel a warm and fuzzy - not necessarily pleasant - sensation, like a mix of being embarrassed and mildly inebriated. And I don’t think this is entirely spontaneous. I think they passed it on to me. But it certainly doesn’t help that my day otherwise sucked. I did laugh throughout it, so there's that.

GME 3 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT

I won’t linger too much on my negative feelings because I have talked about this before and it hasn’t changed the third time. But I can’t help but stress once more that it was evident again that some of their boundaries were getting crossed, Link in the suckling (but if my perception is of any worth, I think he was also uncomfortable in the milk pumping one but he was deflecting by acting cool). Rhett was uncomfortable throughout whenever Link started talking for too long or too freely, as usual. But it was bad enough that Link expressed it openly that his boundaries were crossed and again, I don’t like this being the case and also I don’t understand why the fuck they keep doing it (or maybe I do…?) since they are not okay with it even after freaking practices.

I enjoyed the crew’s presence, mostly because their presence comes as such a stark contrast with that of Rhett and Link’s. It was almost relieving seeing them having fun, laughing, being silly before returning to the lingering vague anxiety of what Rhett and Link will have to do or choose to say next. What a highlight Emily’s accident was! I hope she doesn’t feel bad about it. And the one thing I enjoy about GME somehow the most is that nobody among them seems genuinely made for that type of content. But their persistence of going back at it again and again makes it very amusing to me.

A lot of the content was too prepared and practiced, which kinda turned me off, even though I respect the reasoning behind it. Even Link’s personal story towards the beginning was prepared and practiced since they threw the graphic of “we are still good” before Link remembered to say it. Which brings me again to all my questions of “why going to certain places” since you have practiced so much and apparently know what the various situations you’d get into would be in advance.

The bullying of the commentators was hilarious - it was the comedic highlight of the show for me. I also loved Link shaming Rhett’s butt. Did he say “your ass is the laughing stock of asses?” Or something like that. Oh boy 😄

Me during the mooning: oh they actually have better asses than they clai- *sees the chocolate asses* …. Never mind. (Don’t come at me for this!!!!!!!!!)

It was a good choice that they weren’t…. as inebriated as the previous year. Imagine if they were. Clearly intentional that they weren’t. I know some people complained they were a little more reserved but I believe it was ultimately a wise choice.

However, Link’s mild intoxication made him so lovely. And wasn’t he especially loving to Rhett? He kept touching him, on the shoulders, almost stroking him. He was smiling so tenderly to him. He was so appreciative, so full of love in his words. (How beautiful that part of Rhett being the funniest guy he knows and not being threatened by him was!) Even though part of it, like before the stun cane, was strategic, I am convinced he was being genuine, just more open. More real. Surely not a side Link shows in front of others often but I think it might be a bit like that when they are alone, because there have been implications in many occasions that Link is sweeter, more sensitive, more affectionate, more fragile than he lets on publicly. The most intriguing one was Rhett though, because his face was a rollercoaster. His expression often dropped when Link talked a little too much or at the expectation of Link talking too much. But when he was not worried, he looked at Link with a variation of this (stealing screenshot from @jula483):

I honestly haven’t seen a purer look of affection in one’s face, even if it was within the context of all of Link’s ass hair getting pulled out simultaneously.

That game titled as "your parents forcing you to go to law school" or something? Remember it? Link raised a middle finger at that moment. I think there was a recipient there, Rhett's dad.

It was odd how much Rhett did not want to answer the question about the effects of age on his body. He really was like “Oh you want me to give a real answer about it?” and then never answered, which passed under everyone’s radar, including Link who answered normally. What was the real answer Rhett did not want to give? Infrequent hard-ons? I am not sure it was sexual because this was something he could easily skip and talk about non-sexual effects that happen to everybody, just like Link did. I once again made a bad thought and… I am sorry. Lately, I am a little alarmed by how much they make jokes about Rhett dying first (they always did but it’s become more frequent) and by some insinuations they have made that they even had little arguments about Rhett taking proper care of his diet (the bacon discussion if you can recall) Rhett did say he was diagnosed with high cholesterol, plus all the OURA rings he has. High cholesterol is not anything unusual and I believe they make a bigger deal of this than it should be. I wonder if they are hiding something more there too. That part on Ear Biscuits when Link said he was building a social circle in order to not “go under” once Rhett passes left a bad aftertaste to me. His eyes water almost every time aging and death are mentioned. And Rhett saying in Last Meals that the only thing he is worried about was how Link will handle his death? Why has this shit become a pattern, guys? You are young, hopefully you still have many decades before you. High cholesterol is not the end of the world. Jeez. Hope there’s not more there.

I am dying to know what it was about Lily coming home that Link wanted to talk about its reason so bad but couldn’t. Was it professional… about a special project or personal? Because if it’s personal, I can once again only connect it to all the other personal things Link is dying to talk about but can’t, or Rhett won’t let him. I guess if it was about Lily, he would say it? Who knows. It was curious though.

Link assuming the question was about whether Rhett and Link have caught each other having sex WHILE having sex with each other without a second thought. I very much doubt it was entirely accidental or not thought out at all. Don't tell me they practiced everything except getting to know the questions they will have to answer. I believe Link feigned misinterpreting it in order to pass the message that this thought comes naturally first to him without question, for reasons. Rhett calling him out on his mind going there and naming him "tumblr" was neither teasing exactly nor startlement at all. He was simply abdicating himself of this. He left Link alone on this. He did damage control by making Link the butt of the joke. It is very similar to Rhett's notoriously slipping and saying they were thinking about being in a relationship with one girl at the same time and Link doing damage control by mocking Rhett that that was what he was dreaming. It's the same thing, except Rhett slipped while I believe Link said that on purpose.

Okay, let’s go to the elephant in the room and the only thing that essentially matters in this whole project. Yeah I saw some people “entertain” the idea and bloody “happy wake up”, folks. I am talking about Link’s attempt to come out. To be fair, it was more than an attempt. And I am very calm about it because a) I have been expecting it for months now, as I have explained and b) Link did allude to it a few weeks ago during a GME promo. This is a fact that kills the speculation that “oh Link always says things he does not realise how they sound” and all that crap. A couple of weeks ago or something, while promoting GME, Link said that there might be an “emotional speech” by him that year and that it was a reason we should watch and support it. During the GME itself, there was a recurring reference to the possibility of Link eventually giving an emotional speech, with Rhett becoming very explicitly more and more opposed to it as time passed. Furthermore, in the GMM of Friday, Link was more loving and affectionate than typical, and because I watched it before GME, I suspected that Link had calculated in advance that by that time (post GME) he would be able to act more freely. Based on how things unfolded, it was evident that Link had already made his intention clear to Rhett and apparently the crew, which means the crew indeed knows a lot, if not everything. Rhett was definitely unhappy about it but Link promised he would keep it strictly about himself and Rhett did not have the power or right to prevent him from doing that. As the day actually came, Link was unsure whether he was ready enough to actually do it. It was unclear whether he would go through with this and Rhett hoped until the last moment that Link would eventually chicken out. The plan was for Link to allude to it in the aftershow mostly but because of his anxiety, instead of taking the initiative and starting the big talk, Link just blabbed it out at a point in the main show when he was countering Rhett in a relatively “light” moment. By countering Rhett exactly in the moment he was saying “he was not gay and not being gay was cool”, the impact of his statement was washed out by the act of countering a poorly phrased sentence but also taking advantage in a moment when his own statement would have the least consequences for Rhett since Rhett had just stated he’s not gay. Just like he had promised he wouldn’t involve Rhett in this.

In any case, everyone can try as hard as they want to “not assume” and to “not take out of context”, however Link’s statement was perfectly clear. He mildly scolded Rhett for misspeaking like “not being gay is cool” because “he was on a journey of his own regarding the exploration of himself and his identity” or however exactly he phrased it and “it took a lot of courage to do it”. Yeah, there are no alternative explanations. Whoever needs to deal with this will have to deal with this.

After that, Rhett became progressively more negative in the idea of Link saying more, so plainly that… well… he was downright verbalising it lol He told him to give up on his intentions for an emotional speech, he told him that “whatever it is, keep it to yourself”, he told him “maybe say it to your Uber driver on your way home but not here”. Like, how much clearer should they make all this? I honestly don’t think at this point if people keep acting like it never happened, it will be beneficial for Link. I think it might even feel invalidating, nullifying. He wants to come out, it’s Rhett that won’t let him.

But hey I don’t mean Rhett is a bad guy because his motive is not to oppress or torture Link. Rhett is simply highly aware of all the things that can go wrong in their situation and he’s got a point about that. Besides that, Link might have promised to keep this strictly about himself and not include Rhett, however I think Rhett knows that this is UNREALISTIC. If one of them comes out as attracted to men, and one 99% did already… essentially, people will eventually take it for granted for the other guy as well. Of course, “it doesn’t mean that just because he is attracted to men he is attracted to Rhett and blah blah blah” but honestly… if that’s your argument, listen to yourself. It’s possible, because all possibilities exist but it is the most IMPROBABLE possibility ever. What was the onset of Link’s sexuality exploration? A show? An actor? A friend he meets once a month and low-key doesn’t even care about? Or maybe the guy he has attached to his hip since childhood, shared girlfriends with, shared beds with, shared studies with and shared a living with? The guy he acts rabid for and the guy he teared up because he kissed through plexiglass and the guy he keeps getting on homo scenarios, initially accidentally and now “for the views”? The guy he abandoned his religion with? Besides, if you take into consideration both the coming out and then all the "Rhett is the funniest guy I know, I love him, my best friend etc" musings, it's not hard to put two and two together.

And here’s the thing; none of this is one-sided. Link did all this WITH Rhett, not for or due to Rhett. WITH. So Rhett knows that everyone with common sense and a good understanding of statistics will be able to tell that:

Link comes out as non-straight >>> Link loves Rhett >>> it is mutual >>> Rhett is not straight either.

Rhett did try to overcorrect the situation so much. I am not gay. It’s cool not being gay. I mean, it’s okay not being gay. My wife this, I did that to my wife. Fucking a vagina just hits differently. I ate out my wife. THANKS FOR SAYING I AM THE CUNNILINGUS CHAMPION.

The most Rhett implied was that apparently he could “make it work for science???” or something like that, even though he is not attracted to men. I found it interesting how this seems to agree with my speculations on how their relationship started - with Link coming out to him and probably tricking him into a purely “friends with benefits - no feelings attached” situation which Rhett hopelessly thought would be an easy peasy arrangement for his sex positive self - only for it to blow up on his face. All these can be perceived through the allegory of “We Dug A Medium sized Hole” but on other projects as well. It could even still be how Rhett genuinely feels - that Link is his exception in the rule, romantically at least. In any case, Rhett knows it’s a slippery slope. And he’s not ready for it at all. But we will see how Sextember goes. Is it going to be overcorrecting or will Link push through it a little more?

Their scripted videos show that there is an intention towards pushing, however Rhett or even both of them pull back whenever it threatens to become more serious. Link wasn’t bummed one bit at Rhett for preventing him to disclose more. I think a part of him was relieved from the pressure when Rhett took charge to instruct him to not go on with it.

Rhett was so painfully aware of everything. The aftershow was literally delayed because he had locked himself in the toilet checking reactions to the show. His personality is not at all ideal for so risky moves and it explains his dread apart from the factual very real dread of shooing away half the viewers and thus half the income, let alone half the family. You know, this is ultimately why I dislike GME. I suspected it but I think now I understand because they basically admitted it on the show themselves. GME, much like their scripted videos, is conditioning of the viewers. An evaluation of how much their viewers are eager to take. Making them used to it. They did these things and then asked the viewers whether it was not too much or too much. What’s the point of this? Your viewers paid for adult content (although that exceeded a typical No-porn/ no-sex mature show), why do you ask them if they can take it or not? They plainly admitted that they were taking this feedback into account. “We draw conclusions from it!” Yeah, they draw conclusions about how far they can go. Is their audience ready for an “what if we told you it’s all true”? Are their viewers willing to consider such imagery might be a real thing between them?

Ultimately though, they are not okay with being like that in front of viewers. Link was frustrated, not because what happened was gross, but because it put him in such a vulnerable position. What happened yesterday doesn’t differ much from a soft only fans situation, I will repeat. There was sexual stimulation of one friend to another. And secret lover. In front of thousands paying for it. Not everyone is made for this. Most people aren’t made for this actually. I am adamant that it is not healthy for them in specific and it would be much healthier to eventually decide whether they would like to keep their truth secret but safe forever or come out bravely knowing they might be sacrificing a lot of very important stuff in their lives but at least finally finding some inner peace. This thing now is slow burn torture without ever achieving closure. This is the reason I speak badly about GME. It is not comedy. It is comedy rooted in a very difficult, a bad situation that involves suffering. People have said before that I make this a bigger deal than it is. You are entitled to your opinion but from my side I also don’t think you are right.

Okay, I screwed this up. I said this wouldn’t be as negative. I am sorry. But whoever comes to my blog for my thoughts on this knows my feelings about it more or less. I can not gloss over it. They are real people. Their situation is real and it is a hard one. I believe they don’t know how to handle it. I don’t pretend to know better, I am just sensing the way they are taking might not be a good way. I wish the best for them, no matter what their choice is. When someone intoxicated tells you after the show he himself hosted that everything is a blur and that they don’t know how to feel about it and that they aren’t happy but they are happy for you being happy with it and that they aren’t willing to rewatch any of this, if that’s not a red flag the size of an elephant I don’t know what is.