#I’m having fun but I am also mildly concerned

[loptrcoptr]

My fanfic hit 50k (posted) today and I am just looking around like. …??

good thing Jesus died for everybody’s sins or what have you because I’m just sinful and neurotic and apparently glued to my slutty nerdyass keyboard now

[sixosix]

a/n this fic is written for art @aanobrain hope u enjoy it art!!!! even tho i swear its ooc T__T </333

warnings 1k words, suggestive, gojo appears, reader is a mess

aka, nanami cooking with sleeves rolled up fic.

you were almost convinced you were dreaming.

the sweet smell of good cooking has you salivating and springing upright from the bed without a second to waste. but that’s not right, because if you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket and not in the kitchen, who’s…?

you squint, belatedly perceiving that this is not your bed, and you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

and this is definitely not your door, or your living room, or your kitchen. you don’t even have a roommate; the man slicing radish with precise speed would also definitely not be yours, even though you now wish that was the case.

the creak of the floorboard has him pausing slightly, glancing at you. your gaze gets caught on his high cheekbones, then his sharp stare.

“good morning. i’m—y/n,” you blurt. maybe you could’ve started with, who are you and why am i not in my home?

“nanami,” he says, still staring as you fidget on your spot. much to your relief, he shifts his focus back to the cutting board when you shift uncomfortably.

“there’s miso soup on the table. it’s gotten cold,” nanami says without looking up from his work. “you wake up late.”

“i’m sorry…?”

as he’s mentioned, there’s a bowl on two sides of two chairs.

cautiously, as if nanami would scold you for the slightest wrong movement, you settle in one seat. the chair is cold and uncomfortable; you’re sure your mother has the same table set back home, yet this one looks like it was never touched when bought. never used.

“thank you for the food,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. your voice is drowned out by the knife hitting the cutting board.

the aroma from the miso soup is fresh and stronger than what you’re used to cooking up, but that was because you sometimes forget to turn off the heat before it boils. at first glance, you wouldn’t have assumed nanami would be talented in cooking. you’d think, with his figure, he’s out there posing for magazines and getting hand-fed by maids. but you suppose you were judging from the cover, because nanami has managed to perfect even the tiny details of scent and spice.

your eyes follow as nanami finishes chopping radish, his sleeves loose around his wrist. the way he moves around the kitchen—sliding to the sink, focused solely on what’s in front of him, giving you a proper view of his broad back—makes it look like he’s barely lifting a finger.

“this is good,” you whisper, wanting to get it off your chest without bothering nanami. but he still hears it, acknowledging it with a glance.

you take a sip, humming appreciatively at the taste, and then inhale on the wrong pipe when nanami rolls his sleeves up with his freshly washed hands. they’ve gone a shade darker from the water, which doesn’t help at all—not when it seeps and sticks against his forearms.

you’re coughing uncontrollably. he looks mildly concerned.

“i’m fine, i’m fine!” your face is burning, and you’re unmistakably not fine.

he gives you a glass of water, all while you pointedly stare at your miso soup. the ripples from your choking and slamming on the table feel like they’re poking fun at you.

not long after, nanami comes to the table with a plate of perfectly sliced rolled omelettes. you’ve already finished your miso soup, and you feel guilty that his has gone cold while cooking, but you don’t feel as bad when you take a bite of the food he’s prepared.

you groan reverently. “this is what you eat every morning?” you’re so, so unbelievably jealous.

“no,” nanami says, settling on the seat across yours. the domesticity nearly has you shaking. “i usually pick up breakfast on the way to work.”

but he stayed in to cook for you. you swoon internally.

“mayo,” he says, sliding his plate over to you. his forearms are still on display, and they’re very legit.

“did you assume i wouldn’t have slipped out?” you muse. “bold assumption. i don’t usually stick around long.”

“you were in no condition to ��slip out’ even if you wanted to,” nanami says simply, eyes flicking up to yours. “and you must be getting the wrong idea. nothing happened.”

“what.”

“i slept on the couch.” there’s a ghost of a smile on his face—it must be from your befuddled expression. “last night, you went up to me. you told me you weren’t drunk, and then you passed out on me. you had no one else with you, so i figured i'd let you rest.”

“ah… ha. did you now?” you feel profoundly unsexy at the moment, especially on behalf of the night before.

“you were persuasive.”

you straighten, sticking your nose out to regain a bit of pride. “i prefer charming.”

“insistent,” nanami corrects, yet he gives you the last roll of omelette.

“thanks for taking care of me,” you say, bowing repeatedly, hoping that’d convey at least half of what you’re feeling. “and for not being creepy.”

“you don’t have to thank me for that,” nanami says dryly.

“oh ho, nanamin!” a new voice enters the conversation. nanami’s jaw ticks. “nanamin, nanamin, you rascal!” how did he get here without either of you noticing?

“gojo-san.” the man with a blindfold and white hair sticking out in all high angles grins wolfishly. “i wasn’t warned you’d be coming over.” nanami faces you, almost apologetically, “excuse me, gojo-san is just here to get something. run, if you need to.”

“sorry?”

“you’re so funny, nanamin. it’s good to catch you off guard, especially for moments like this,” gojo calls out as nanami walks back inside, not bothering to entertain him with a response. gojo then sizes you up. “who’re you?”

“me?” you briefly forgot that you’re still in the same hallway as them. “oh, i’m no one. no one you should worry about. who are you?”

gojo grins. “definitely not nanamin’s one-night stand.”

“i’m not even!” you exclaim, face hot. the guy narrows his eyes suspiciously, checking your face in various angles. and then your disappointingly empty neck. “i swear, i’m not. no hickeys or anything, see? he took care of me when i was blackout drunk, apparently.”

“and he didn’t kick you out as soon as you woke up?”

“...no? would you do that?”

gojo nods, more so to himself. “i see. so it’s already deeper than a one-night stand.”

“what?”

“he wants a piece of whatever you’re baking.”

“...?”

“gojo-san, stop tormenting my guest,” nanami says flatly, tossing a paper bag onto gojo’s face. it doesn’t quite hit him, instead sliding off. “please leave. i don’t need you here.”

“oh-ho,” gojo says mischievously. “i was going to be nice and make sure you’re not lonely coming to work, but it seems there’s already someone doing that to you, huuhh?” nanami doesn’t reply, pointedly setting his heavy gaze on you instead. gojo pouts. “oh, fine. don’t forget protection!”

nanami glances to the side as gojo skips off. he pulls out his phone and presents it to you, his low voice reverberating in your ears in the silence of the halls. “put your number in my phone.”

“um, why?” you ask suspiciously, yet still do as you’re told. nanami seems like the last guy on earth to have malicious intentions anyway. and you do owe him for this. “are you feeding me again?”

“to make up for what could’ve happened that night.”

[irisintheafterglow]

Inspired by the photo loving Suguru ✨️🤍

Can I request reader getting mildly injured after a mission, maybe a head bump or a knee scrape, and Suguru suggests getting ice cream with their friends to cheer her up?

hand under my sweatshirt, baby kiss it better

wc: 0.7k

cw/tags: swearing, mild hurt/comfort, angst if you really squint, mostly just fluff and suguru taking care of you

note: HII SWIRRLEY you always have the most fun suguru asks and i love writing them :D nothing like some good ol' character A sitting on a sink while character B cleans up their wound. i hope you like this one !!!!!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“I’m going to pick Satoru’s eyelashes off one by one for making me cover him, I swear on all things–”

"Shit, the hell happened to you?" He leans against the doorframe of the bathroom, watching you clean up the scrape on your elbow as your legs dangle off the edge of the sink. Your hand unconsciously jerks away when the saturated cotton pad meets the tender flesh and you curse for the umpteenth time under your breath. It was a little ironic, a semi-grade one sorcerer reduced to a swearing, sputtering mess. You flinch again as a stray drop of isopropyl alcohol drips onto the cut and his eyebrows furrow. “You need some help there, Doc?”

“I don’t need your condescension right now, Su,” you mutter, hands shaky and vision blurry from the aching pain on your arm. “Just say ‘I told you so’ and leave me be.”

“There’s a difference between condescension and genuine concern, dear,” he says patiently, crossing the tile in two long strides and plucking the cotton pad from your fingers. “Right now, I’m trying to convey the latter. If anything, I’m gonna kick Satoru’s ass for making you go without me in the first place.” He tosses it into the trash bin before grabbing a washcloth and wetting the corner with warm water. You eye him warily, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he expectantly holds out a hand for you to rest your elbow on. “Well?”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because I want to take care of you? Because you got hurt and I want you to feel better?” He states what should be obvious facts to you with an air of exasperation and you frown, turning your face to the side in burning shame. You weren’t used to this, someone caring about your wellbeing after a mission. Sure, Shoko and Satoru liked to pester you about what to eat for dinner as soon as your shoes slipped off, but Suguru was the only one who actually checked to make sure you were okay. “You don’t have to be embarrassed that I see you like this. Heaven knows you’ve seen me at worse,” he quips and your mouth turns up into the slightest smirk. He was right; you’d definitely patched him up more times than you can count on both hands and probably both feet, too. After a few more moments of hesitation, you sit your arm in his palm. 

“Thank you, Su, for–ow, fucking fuck,” you hiss when the cloth meets the scrape and he murmurs an apology under his breath. “So, was the alcohol overkill?”

“A little bit, yeah,” he smiles and it makes your stomach flutter. “It’s okay, though. At least we know you’re not going to get an infection.”

“To be fair, Shoko told me to clean it up with alcohol first.”

“Shoko also told you she plans to cheat on her med school exams,” he reminds you and you huff in defeat, much to his entertainment. “I’m just glad I found you before you gripped the counter so hard, it broke.”

“Okay, now who’s being overkill?”

“Doesn’t matter if I am, because I just distracted you long enough to clean up your wound.” He shrugs proudly and you gape at him for a few seconds, completely forgetting what he was doing there in the first place. Right, he was cleaning up your scrape, but why did you get so distracted with him in such close proximity? “How are you feeling now?”

“Much better,” you admit and he nods in understanding, fingers lightly brushing your skin around where you collided with the rocky concrete. 

“That’s good. Change your clothes and meet me in the parking lot in ten minutes.” He dusts his hands off like he’d performed some sort of life-altering surgery, tossing the dirty towel over his shoulder and heading for the door. 

“Huh?” You think you’re still slightly delirious and imagining his words. 

“Let’s go get ice cream with Shoko and Satoru, my treat,” he calls over his shoulder, shooting you a grin that makes your legs turn to jelly. “You definitely deserve it.” Hopping down from the sink, you jokingly shout down the hallway after him and he waves his hand dismissively.

“Are you in love with me, Geto Suguru?”  

“Something like that!” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[callabang]

For the fic game, 27 & 48 or 54 & 99 <3

TBH guys this is such a fun writing exercise…. I get to IMAGINE and IDEATE with no care for resolution/structure/quality of prose… it’s just fic chatting in public. We should do this more. anon you can have both requests as a treat <3

Sick/Injured Fic // Fake Dating

Secret Relationship // ​​Magical Accidents

send me a trope mash-up!!

Sick/Injured Fic // Fake Dating

Oh trope city. Some of these are just vintage trope pairings you know. None of that new age shit. THE CLASSICS.

It’s most fun to imagine Sam having to engage in fake dating so that’s what we’re doing. Leaning fully into the cliche let’s say Adam is mildly ill and or injured during Jet Lag filming in Paris and Ben is like you’re the only one that speaks french!! You have to go in!! Say you’re his boyfriend!! 

Honestly this could certainly be that they’re not together yet but it could also just canonically (“canonically” lol. Canonically to MY headcanons that I am boldly posting online) be that Sam is in whateverrrrrr relationship he thinks he’s in with them but doesn’t consider them to be “dating” so it feels like fake dating to him. Ben is like okay this is semantics go ask the doctor if Adam needs antibiotics or what!! Somehow Sam awkwardly volunteers way more information than is necessary to the French hospital staff, it’s truly such a bizarre vibe, meanwhile they are like it’s 2024 you can just see your friend in the hospital sir. He’s in room 403 it would honestly be great if you can go translate. 

Secret Relationship // ​​Magical Accidents

Anon big props to you for being the only person so far to request a truly funky premise (MAGIC), I adore a weird AU sooo much. Shout out to Maria because some of this is stolen from fic chat with her.

I think that the nature of insane poly coworker trio is that it does kind of start out as a secret because it’s just: a lot. Like people see Adam and Ben and make some assumptions but the entire situation is sooo hard to explain. How to begin to explain. Impossible. But obviously they also do have to explain at some point

Ok here I go down kind of a rabbit hole thinking about them explaining this to their parents:

Sam of course tells nobody in the world anything about his personal relationships but sometimes it tickles me to imagine him telling his parents like the world’s smallest tidbits with absolutely NO space for follow-up questions. Like they let him start a youtube empire when he was 11 so probably they’re fairly okay with whatever his deal is. He’s texting them occasional one sentence updates and calling them quarterly and ignoring any subsequent questions they have about him dating ben and adam. I’m running a marathon I’m dating two of my coworkers I’m flying to Japan for my youtube business. period.

Adam I think desperately wants to talk about his relationship to everyone and especially his mom so he is not keeping it a secret. He needs her advice he needs her guidance he needs to share soft stories about ben and sam!!! 

BEN. Ben I imagine is like. Deep in the hole. Didn’t tell his parents about this when it started and now it’s been two years. You guys I can’t tell the truth NOW we have to gaslight my mom. It’s the only way. Sam would do it but Adam is like uh NO WAY this is your problem you have to fix it. so there’s some conflict there

So this is the premise and then magical accident uhhh. UHH. okay i struggled to think of a magic accident but looking at my own ao3 fully 15% of my fics are magic or magic adjacent so i guess i need to GET OVER IT. I mean if it’s like magical realism and not a fully magic AU then perhaps ben accidentally creates a magic stress poltergeist that embodies his various fears and concerns about his relationship and then they have to deal with a kind of rascal spirit causing problems in their household. If we go FULL magic au then ben is a cute little hedgewitch (!!!) and accidentally does some kind of witchcraft to adam during a spat about whether to tell ben’s scary witch mother about their collective relationship and then feels really bad and has to turn adam back from a hawthorne tree or what have you and apologize a bunch. Honestly hedgewitch ben is kind of compelling to me

i also think it would be kind of funny for ben to just go on a whole solo miyazaki adventure that solves none of his problems and he also doesn’t experience character growth and then he comes back and still has to tell his mom about his boyfriends. LOL

[glade-constellation]

Fable

Sun & Y/N, Gen Relationships

Summery : It had been hours since Moon, Sun, and Solar had vanished from the party. The Halloween party they had been throwing. You were concerned, to say the least. October had never been kind to them.

They return home with devastating news. While everyone is more concerned about things other than their own grieving brother, you go to comfort Sun.

Trigger Warning(s) : offscreen major character death, depictions of dissociation, verbal fights between family members, strong language

Rating : T, SFW

Word Count : 4342

Extra : I posted this to Ao3 back when Nexus first died, and thought I should also post it here. IMPORTANT THING TO KNOW, I headcanon that mourning doves were present when Sun was trying to save Moon, when the hallucinations of Bloodmoon destroyed his attempts at fixing the manna pool. Sun hates their cooing sound, as it brings back bad memories. This is important for later. Quick fun facts, I wrote this while listening to Fable by Gigi Perez and Morning Dove by Genevieve Stokes. If you enjoy music while you read, I suggest those too.

Honestly, there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that this night couldn’t get any weirder.

It had started off normal. For once in your life since you’d known the Celestial family, you were having a Halloween party. No outrageous villains trying to take over the Superstar Daycare of all places. No random people trying to destroy the place or blow people up. It was a calm, quiet October. As calm and quiet as it could get when the entire multiverse seemingly wanted you dead, that is. There was still the Astrals to worry about and Dazzle’s apparently newly possessed old body. Weird things for any normal people, but actually pretty chill for this family.

Of course, something had to go wrong before October was over. Moon disappeared in the K-mart. The K-mart. He had just been getting drinks. After his call with Monty was randomly cut short, you hadn’t seen or heard from him. Sun wasn’t going to sit around and wait, and left to go find him. He was also still missing, along with Solar. The guests left pretty quickly after their hosts vanished, besides the small handful of family still at the house. Earth had finally fallen asleep with Monty on the couch in the basement, leaving you and Lunar to move upstairs to continue your little marathon.

…Marathon of Nutella ads, apparently. You’d been watching YouTube videos with him, but clearly had been worrying too much to notice when he changed it. “What the fuck,” you balked, turning with an eyebrow raised towards Lunar.

He blinked owlishly at you, as if this wasn’t an extremely odd thing to be watching. “What? You gonna question my tastes?”

You blinked back at him. “Lunar. This is a Nutella ad. That you willingly turned on. What else am I supposed to do?”

“Maybe not space out when I ask you what you want to watch,” he replied, nose upturned to you as he turned back to the screen.

Brows furrowing, you followed his lead. When had he asked you that? You certainly didn’t remember him doing so. Had you really been that far in your own head?

“Sorry,” you said after a moment, “Guess I’m just worried.”

Lunar waved his hand as he rolled his eyes. “Pfft. They’re fine. Stop worrying.”

“Hard not to,” you replied, “You guys get into crazy shit every October. I’m surprised you lasted this long without severe incident.”

“Are you calling me a ‘severe incident’?” Lunar asked in mock complaint, hand on his chest. “How dare. Blocked and canceled. Friendship revoked.”

“Is that a Nutella commercial?”

You both jumped at the sudden voice over by the front door, whipping around to watch as the missing members of the household finally entered. Seeing Moon looking only mildly ruffled, you stumbled to your feet and hurried over to check for further injury you might not have seen. “Moon! You okay?”

The star-clad animatronic waved his hands in dismissal, talking over Solar and Lunar’s bickering in the background. “I’m fine. Just a little tossed around. Nothing new.”

“You sure?” you asked, resisting the urge to brush the ash-like substance off his shoulder. You knew how much he disliked being touched. That didn’t stop you from staring at it though. “Looks like a bomb went off, you’re covered in soot.”

There was an immediate reaction to your words. Solar went quiet, turning to watch Sun out of the corner of his eye. Moon did the same, a frown forming in his face. You all watched as Sun violently flinched, his arms coming up to hug himself as he stared at his feet. “Sun?” you asked, your hand slightly reaching out towards him.

“I think, um…” Sun stopped mid sentence, as if losing his place, before trying again. “I think I’m gonna just…my room.” He was quick to move past you and Solar as he headed for the kitchen, making a b-line for the stairs without making any sort of eye contact. Questions formed in the tip of your tongue as you watched him unsteadily shuffle forward until he was out of sight.

You caught Solar’s mismatched eyes, raising a brow. He didn’t answer, instead turning to Moon. “I’m worried about him.”

Moon, in all his great intelligence, caught you completely off guard. After watching Sun basically zombie walk his way out of the room, all Moon did was nod. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” You questioned, not realizing you’d basically mirrored Solar, “Sun just violently reacted to me making a joke, and all you have to say is ‘yeah’?”

“Yeah,” he parroted back. His shoulders hunching in defense as he crossed his arms, “I’m sorry, I’m a little more focused on the things that caused him to do what he did.”

“What?” This time, you did notice your echo, and looked over at Solar again. Clearly, something had happened, and you were not privy to that knowledge yet. With Solar having a better understanding of the situation, you backed up and let him deal with Moon. The taller animatronic stepped up to your side, giving you a small nod in acknowledgement.

Moon rolled his eyes, “Dark Sun, Ruin. Nexus is already dead.”

It was like a sudden punch to the gut. Nexus was dead. Nexus was dead. The words were stuck on repeat in your head, drowning out the conversation still going on around you.

Your feelings were mixed to say the least. While Nexus had been the latest thorn in the Celestials family’s side, alongside Dark Sun, he had still been Moon. Not this Moon, the one standing before you, but Moon nonetheless. A friend to you. A brother to others. Someone you knew well, who you’d gotten to know over the course of a year.

Someone you once knew. His betrayal still stung like fire in your veins. Anger and sadness warring whenever his name was brought up. You may not have been part of the family officially, but you still had once thought you were at least good friends with Nexus. You had been there when he’d first woke up. Been there when he’d needed help or needed a friend. You definitely weren’t his best friend, that spot had been reserved for Solar, but you thought you were still at a least important to him.

You couldn’t figure out how to feel about the situation. The fact that he left you out of his verbal beatdown sessions, or the fact that he tore apart his whole family with them and still failed to even look at you after he switched sides. You did not exist to him after Solar’s death. A ghost.

You hadn’t realized how far lost in thought you were until you felt someone pull at your shoulder, you looked up with wide eyes, blinking at Solar as he gave another tug. He nodded his head towards the couch. Oh. They were sitting down. Shaking off the fuzz in your head, you dropped back down next to Lunar.

“By the way, Moon got kidnapped,” Solar explained as he stood to your right.

“Kidnapped?” you questioned, looking between the two taller animatronics.

“Oh!” Lunar blurted. “I thought you just got tackled.”

Moon nodded, leaning back into the couch, “Yeah, I got kidnapped by Ruin.”

Another prominent thorn in the group’s side, this one being a problem since last October. “And he saved you?” the smaller lunar model inquired.

“Yeah. He just said he wanted Nexus to fail.” You looked away at the mention of the former Moon. Moon himself continued his rant. “I don’t know what that lunatic wants.” He looked between you and Lunar, “Did everyone else go home already?”

“Earth’s asleep downstairs on the couch with Monty,” you explained.

Lunar nodded, “That’s really it.” They then proceeded to forget who exactly showed up in the first place and how many people it was. You snorted out a quiet laugh.

Monty then stumbled his way into the room, making his way over to Moon to check out the damage himself. You wanted to leave as Nexus was brought up again, only to feel a sharp chill down your spine when Moon explained the details.

There had been a bomb. Nexus had been the bomb, which Sun had detonated. The questions you had about the situation early came back full force, but you swallowed them down again like bile. That explained a lot. It made sense, as much as you didn’t want to believe it. Nexus must have been threatening Moon, and Sun felt he only had one option to save him. That’s why he flinched at your comment. That’s why Moon was covered in soot.

There was a sudden feeling of sickness as realization rolled through you. That wasn’t just soot. That … that had been your friend.

Poetic, some twisted part of you thought, that the first Moon had survived in the ashes of his other self.

Not knowing what else to do, you turned your gaze to Solar in a means to steady yourself. To his credit, he wasn’t dissociating like you or Sun. No, he looked like he was fucking seething. He was glaring a hole into Moon’s head, if that was an actual ability he had. It wasn’t a common expression for the mechanic, despite his seeming quickness to rage. Most of the time, it was just mock exasperation. Seeing it now, genuine anger, was just as much a shock as it was an odd comfort. At least you weren’t the only one finding the group’s apparent lack of care to be off putting.

You saw red at Moon’s next words.

“Rough?” You laughed, completely unamused. Giving him your own lethal glare, you slowly turned to Moon, “Just rough?”

Moon had the gall to look surprised at your outburst. “What? Am I supposed to say he’s all fine and dandy?”

You could only manage to sputter. Another false laugh burst from your mouth. “Sun’s a wreck! I only saw him for two seconds and can tell he’s destroyed over this.” You waved your hands in the air, feeling the need to move with the sudden adrenaline. “But no, he’s just feeling a little under the weather. We can go with that.”

“Wait, I’m confused,” Monty mumbled, but he was smothered under Moon’s response.

“You think I don’t get that? I can tell he’s not okay, but what am I supposed to do about it?”

He couldn’t truly be this fucking dense, could he? There was no way he was this dumb. Your hand flung up to point towards Sun’s room up above. “You be with him! You don’t leave him alone after he was forced to murder someone!”

“Nexus was threatening to kill us! Why are you blaming me?” Hm. Maybe he really was this dense. You couldn’t fathom how he was supposed to be the genius sibling and couldn’t see what was really going on here.

“That’s not the point,” you growled out, fingers gripping your legs in a near bruising grip. “He just had to choose which of his brothers got to survive, you damn idiot!”

“Nexus isn’t our brother.” Of all the people you were expecting to say that, Lunar had been the last. Second last. Solar was there, though completely silent during your outburst. Lunar and Nexus may not have had a chance to get super close, seeing as Lunar was currently dealing with the Astrals, but you didn’t believe Lunar’s claim. You’d seen Nexus fight tooth and nail for his little brother before. To hear Lunar think so little of him felt wrong.

“You can’t really believe that.” You really couldn’t.

Lunar’s face hardened, “He obviously didn’t believe it himself. Why should I care about him when he never cared about me?”

“Never cared? Never-” There was a sick, cruel thought that Lunar was close enough to strike. It immediately replaced a good portion of your anger with crushing guilt and shame. Cleared just enough of the rage fog for you to take a breath and back off. “Well. Okay. You can think that. But you cannot say he isn’t Sun’s brother. That’s not your relationship to revoke.”

Moon stood from his spot on the couch, “I can. He took my place. I’m back now, if you haven’t noticed.”

All the rage came rushing back tenfold. You launched yourself from the couch, hands balled into fists at your side, “You weren’t there, Moon!” The animatronic opened his mouth, but you weren’t going to allow him to keep going after that. “No, you shut the fuck up. You left him. Nexus was his brother. For a year! And what, he’s just supposed to move on after what happened?”

“He hurt him!” Moon growled out.

You laughed again in disbelief, “And you didn’t?” Your arms crossed over your chest as you leaned back. “Rich, coming from you of all people. Nexus yelled at him. You tortured him. And he never left you.”

Moon gave you a look that could only be described as murderous.

“That’s enough,” Solar stepped in, holding his hands up between the two of you, “Star, calm down. Moon, you come with me.”

“Fuck that,” you seethed, whipping towards Solar with a scowl. “If you guys can’t comfort your own fucking brother, I guess I will. If he’s even still your brother.” You felt like you wanted to heave and punch something at the same time, rage rolling in your stomach as hurt burned in your heart. You scoffed as you scaled the stairs. Looking over the railing, you gave in to your instinct one last time and flipped Moon off. “Don’t bother following.”

You stepped up to the door, anger still burning like fire in your chest. Your hands clenched and unclenched by your side as you tried to work it out of your system. Anger would only worsen whatever Sun was already going through. Putting more stress on him was the last thing you needed. Taking a deep breath, you silently released it and took the final step towards the closed door.

You had to resist bursting in at the sound of Sun’s near silent sobs. Resist punching through the door when you brought your hand up to knock softly. Resist the fire already crawling back under your skin as you gripped tightly at the door frame.

You couldn’t see him, and you didn’t want to. If he didn’t want you to see him like this, you were going to uphold his wishes to the best of your ability. The only thing that clued you into him hearing was his sharp inhale, resulting in a hiccup as he tried to cover his crying. “Hey Sun,” you called out, softly to not startle him or wake Dazzle down the hall. That latter one may have already been a fail, but she hadn’t walked out yet. “It’s just me. Can I come in?”

It was quiet for a moment. No reply, besides a few more odd noises. Like he was still trying to cover up that he was crying. Your grip on the doorframe tightened. Fuck Moon and his inability to see how destroyed his brother really was over this.

You took in another silent breath. “I can’t see you, Sun. If you answered, I didn’t see. I’m gonna need a verbal confirmation if you want me to come in.” Another beat of silence. “Just a yes or no is fine but, until you answer, I’m not leaving this doorway.”

A quiet, suppressed whine. You swore you were going to leave a visible handprint in the wood with how tight you were gripping the frame. Pulling your hand away, you instead turned to lean your back into it and cross your arms. In your movement you almost missed when Sun finally spoke up.

“Come in.” It was soft, cracking. A weak reply. But it was all you needed to instantly push back up and open the door to the room.

Sun was easy to spot. Curled tightly in on himself in the chair right across the room. A bright yellow and red beacon, brighter than the yellow of the chair and white of the wall. His nearly colorless eyes were unfocused and foggy, staring unmoving off into seeming nothing instead of toward you. Almost like a cheery gargoyle, thought the situation was far from that.

Don’t run. Don’t run. Don’t scare him, don’t run. For a moment, you kept yourself completely still. You knew if you moved, you’d rush. The need to hug him was overwhelming, but you had to fight it. Sun’s comfort came first. Don’t run.

He never blinked, not even as you finally pushed your feet slowly forward. The carpet made your footfall near undetectable. You tried to make your steps just a bit heavier so he could hear your approach, since he didn’t seem to really see you as you passed into his line of vision. If he could even hear right now. You couldn’t tell how dissociated he was, just that it was bad. There was no acknowledgement when you stood just to the right of him, not disrupting whatever he was looking at but still in his view. Despite looking like a stone statue in the corner of his own room, Sun’s eyes and cheeks were stained in a clear, oily substance. His pants over his knees were darkened from where the artificial tears dripped onto them. If his sounds from earlier didn’t clue you in, this was a definite that he had been crying.

Your jaw clenched as you flexed your hands again, still fuming over the fact that you were the only one here while his family sat downstairs talking. You immediately regretted it as Sun flinched. A good sign, in a way, though one you’d desperately been trying to avoid. Guilt bubbled up your throat, feeling uncomfortable tight.

Sun finally looked up at you. Stared right through you. His eyes still couldn’t seem to focus clearly enough. He finally cracked out another reply in a quiet word. “Hi.”

A smile pulled at your lips, though forced. Your eyes stung as you pushed down your own tears. “Hey,” you whispered back. It burned in your throat as you forced it past the tightness already there. Instinct once again screamed to hold him in some way, offer physical support, but you held back. You couldn’t startle him again. “Are you okay with a hug?” you asked instead, matching his quiet tone.

Again, another beat of silence. A moment to process the words through the fog. “What?”

“A hug,” you explained, “Can I hug you?”

A blink, finally. It did not help that it popped free a few more tears, sliding down his face in a slow line. His rays drooped slightly, making you realize just how wilted he’d looked to begin with. His own hands clenched around his knees. You found the cream colored paint of his fingers was flaking, making you wonder if that had been from the dryness of cleaning product, or a result of earlier tonight.

You stood still as he began to reach up, slowly and wobbly, only to freeze at the sight of his own hand. A sound you could only describe as choked on anguish spilled past his lips as he tore his whole body away from you. There was only a split second for you to think before you followed after him. He had been reaching for you. It didn’t matter if he hadn’t verbally replied this time, you’d seen it. He had reacted. You weren’t letting him slip away again.

Sun went stock still in your arms. Your grip was just loose enough that he could push you off he wanted. He didn’t though. Just sat how he had frozen, one arm pulled to his chest while the other grabbed at the chair to stabilize him, his feet halfway to the floor. You were awkwardly hung around his neck, trying not to lean on him with your feet still planted on the floor across the chair. Your face was almost smashed into the back cushion.

Gradually, Sun began to relax. It took a good minute or two, with barely a sound. His feet slowly slid onto the floor, the bells of his shoes only faintly ringing. You couldn’t tell if this was helping, or if he was regressing farther into his dissociation. It was beyond concerning. After another minute, and your muscles screaming from your odd position, you began to pull away. You needed to check on him.

You nearly toppled forward when a fist wildly grabbed at the front of your shirt. There was a chance you wouldn’t have even heard his quiet plea of “no” if you hadn’t already been so close to him. You immediately stilled.

“It’s okay! I’m not leaving,” you tried to soothe, “I just need to readjust.” Your own voice felt weak in your ears. It never stopped hurting, hearing him like this.

It hurt just knowing how many times you’d heard him like this.

In a silent reply, Sun unhooked his hand from your shirt. He reached past to wrap his arms around your back, pulling you towards him. It was easy to follow his lead and drop into his lap. The both of you shuffled into a more comfortable position, your knees pulled upwards as your arms wrapped around his middle. He had one arm supporting your back while the other wrapped around your legs, pulling you close to him. His fingers latched firmly to where they held you, not quite hard enough to bruise but definitely noticeable. You let your head rest against his chest and felt his grip tighten just slightly. His head gently rested on top of yours.

He was trembling, shaking all around you, but no sound came from him. A few wet drops hit the top of your head. He continued to remain silent.

You cleared your throat, trying to catch his attention, “Stupid question, but, are you okay?”

Sun let out a huff. Probably the most humorless laugh you’d ever seen someone give, but more than you’d expected him to give. “No,” he muttered into your hair, “Not a bit.” Now that had been expected.

“You wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No.”

You gave him a soft squeeze, “That’s fine.”

Another moment of silence. The air conditioning kicked on. There was a bump from someone shuffling downstairs. You could almost imagine the sound of a grandfather clock ticking in the room, had Sun had one. Birds began to sing, starting their morning routine as the natural sun began its slow rise. There was a fluttering noise as one of them landed on the windowsill outside, calling out an iconic cooing noise. A mourning dove.

Sun’s grip on you tightened, and he finally let out a broken sob. “I hate those things.”

“I know, Sun.”

“They’re, they’re the worst.” Bells chimed as he gave a full body shiver.

“I know, Sun.”

“Why do they-” His voice gave out as he hiccuped. “Why is it always me?”

You paused at his response. “…I don’t know.” Pulling back, you unwrapped yourself from around him and reached for his face. You gently moved him to look at you instead of the shadow in the window. “It’s not your fault, Sun.”

“But it is,” he wept, “It’s me every time. It’s always my fault.” Tears were running down his face onto your hands. Sun’s face was twisted in pain and sorrow as his shoulders shook with his sobs.

“This wasn’t your fault,” you reiterated, “You were saving Moon. Nexus backed you into a choice you shouldn’t have had to make.”

“It wasn’t even him! It wasn’t, it wasn’t him!” You could feel your brow knitting together in confusion as he gasped through his explanation. “Dark just, showed up. Pulled me into this, this white void. Told me to choose. I had to choose! H-He made me choose!”

That absolute bastard. You forced yourself not to reacted to the mention of him. When you got your hands on the prick, it was over for him.

“Then it’s still not your fault,” you insisted. It didn’t matter that he had been the one to do it. It wasn’t his fault, you knew it in your soul. “A choice is not a choice if you are forced into it. It’s manipulation. You were used, Sun. You didn’t kill Nexus.”

“I still chose him,” he breathed, “I, I still watched him explode.”

There it was. The part you couldn’t fix. Because, try as you might to redirect the blame, Sun would never forget the guilt. It was yet another thing he couldn’t seem to drop or get rid of. Almost a part of who he was. No matter how many times you or Earth had tried to help him, Sun was too loving to forget those he hurt.

You felt like you were floundering, unsure of how to help. No idea of what to say. So you simply pulled him back into your arms, wrapping yourself around his neck and letting him cry into your shoulder. His hands gripped at the back of your shirt in tight fists. “I can’t stop seeing it,” he whispered.

“It’s okay to close your eyes now,” you mumbled into his shoulder, “You don’t have to watch anymore.”

There was a sob in your ear, “But he’s still there.”

“He is,” you replied, holding him tighter, “You just have to remember him correctly.”

“No!” You nearly jumped at how loudly Sun spoke. It hadn’t been a yell, but definitely the loudest he had been since you entered the room. He shook his head, trying to push down a few more verbal tears. He copied you as he pulled you farther into his hold, “That hurts. So much worse.”

You simply nod in return. “It does.” Your hand rubbed up and down his back as you continued to try and soothe him. “That just means you’re doing it right.”

A muffled cry. A hiccup. A coo, from the mourning dove outside.

[skyward-floored]

*burst through door* I AM HERE TO TALK

Let’s see…

What whumptober prompt are you most excited about?

If you could write a post-game adventure for any of the Zelda games you played, which would it be and what kind of vibe/premise would you go for?

Does Volga ever hug Link in hdw au? I know he’s a bit aloof

Speaking of hdw au I occasionally still laugh at the thought of Power and Warriors interacting lol, but I also keep forgetting that a lot of people, including your AU include Mask and Tune, so how do you think they would react to Power being there? For his part I think Power would be really weirded out and worried that Mask is there since the kid’s like 11, and mildly concerned but also low key impressed that Tune is 12-13 and an accomplished Hero. I’m a little shaky on how those two are characterized tho 😅

Hm, let’s see, what else… favorite IAU boy and favorite IAU segment that you’ve written!

Laslty, have a hug from me and puppy snuggles from Anakin ❤️

dangit Skye I'm gonna cry again hdbshbkdjsf thank you for the hug and puppy snuggles <3

Okay! So I'm very excited for days 10 and 18 which go together and are very dramatic and painful and have a big epic fight I will hopefully be able to write well hehe. I'm also excited for day 11, which has some fun things I'm looking forward to involving Mipha (who I've never really written much so it's been interesting working on!). I have some more ideas that don't really match any days yet, but I'm excited for those too. Basically all of them (except tomorrow's which has absolutely nothing for it yet heh).

Oooh that's an interesting question! I mean I technically have a fic that explores a bit of what happens after botw (largely written before totk and also an AU lol), and true form goes into a bit after tp (but again, an AU), but if I had unlimited writing time... I think a really big and long and in-depth post-skyward sword fic would be cooool. Spanning several years as Link and Zelda work through stuff that happened on their adventure and their relationship/family and building a settlement on the surface... it would be so cool.

I think at some point Volga does actually hug Link :) but not for a while though. He's got to go through all that messy "actually accepting you have a son and are maybe actually attached to him" stuff, probably brought on through some dramatic inciting incident. ANd when it does happen it's probably a quick "AGHH HOW DARE YOU COME SO CLOSE TO DYING" kind of thing where he just grabs him into a hug without thinking.

I think of that sometimes and laugh too XD For Mask and Tune, I think they'd sort of take it in stride? Like, what's one more Link in this disaster anyway? Though I think Mask looks at him and can kind of... tell this guy's adventure messed him up. Mask knows about that, even if it's not exactly the same. Tune can maybe tell too, but it's probably more "my older brother senses are tingling, I'm adopting him".

Favorite IAU boy?? That's like having to choose a favorite child, I like them all... :( okayyyyy well I'm very fond of Hyrule, I had a lot of fun with his backstory. Legend is always a blast to write too because he's so silly as a little kid, and having turning into a rabbit be part of his powers, it lends to some interesting things and dynamics. I seriously don't know about a favorite IAU thing I've written, I've written... too many things. Maybe that roadtrip one, that one is silly lol

[zahri-melitor]

New(ish) Comics (this is the best week of the month, no lie)

Batman – Santa Claus: Silent Knight #1: this is fun. I like the way Bruce and Damian are written together. I am annoyed Babs is out as Batgirl. I'm amused that Tim is very specifically excluded from the story that involves real Santa given he'd not be wondering 'ooh oooh is Santa real' like Dick is here.

Someone had better give Darkseid some coal, is all I can say.

Batman #139: …so we really are running Batman and Batman & Robin with contradictory plots right now. Cmon. There was even a way to finagle this so that Damian could be living with Bruce and have Zdarsky’s plot still work! Grump.

“I’m coming for you, Joker. I’m coming for all three of you. For the last time.” (actually there’s a printing error in this line and the letterer has ‘For the the last time’) I disbelieve this Zdarsky, sorry, though if you could figure out a way to get Joker out of the Bat books for a few years I think everyone would enjoy that.

Now that aside, I do want to note that apparently my decision to (re)read all of Henri Ducard’s appearances seems to have been prescient, given Zdarsky has just referred to ‘manhunting’, ‘training when I was young’ and ‘Paris’ all together. That’s Ducard. That trio is 100% Ducard. Sounds like I need to finish Henri Ducard’s post-2016 appearances, which I was delaying. So Batman: The Detective and Batman: The Knight are jumping up my reading list. (And a quick look at ‘Lucie Chesson’ says she’s from Batman: The Knight, so yep, gotta read)

Joker + dolls always makes me think of NML Endgame, personally.

Birds of Prey #3: Damn this continues to just be a solid read. Thompson keeps hitting yet another 'look I can be trusted' target every issue.

I could do with at least 30% less Harley commentary in this book, but I do acknowledge that at least half the team are unlikely to talk much in a combat situation. Future!Maps is cute and as I slowly approach Maps content I’m excited to meet her more. Also… SIN MY SWEETHEART. I have been waiting for this hug for SIXTEEN YEARS. (Literally. I was in DC fandom in 2007 when they were torn apart). Also loooooooooool Ollie got curbstomped by Diana, sucks to be you Ollie.

Blue Beetle #3: Oh I couldn’t help myself (in terms of how many panels I already posted), but Blue Beetle is doing such interesting things right now. Victoria’s finally being acknowledged on page as being super sus and villainous (rather than just slinking around being sus and concerning me deeply). I’m getting more and more worried about the identity of the Red Beetle. We got Traci back! Which from what I hear means that Trujillo is glossing over some of Traci’s recent characterisation, but we’ll see how this tracks (and in any case, re-establishing Jaime’s connections to the magic/dark side of DC via Traci is helpful if we’re about to do a Dan Garrett story).

Free my girl Dani Garrett if we’re doing a Dan Garrett storyline, she’s an autistic mildly amoral archaeologist and I desperately, DESPERATELY want to see her arguing with Victoria Kord over who ‘owns’ the scarab while Jaime’s standing in the middle going ‘excuse me nobody owns Khaji Da, it’s its own being! And my friend!’

Fire & Ice: Welcome to Smallville #3: hello Jimmy Olsen! Hello Turtle Jimmy lore! (I love how silly this book is. I do enjoy JLI stuff that doesn’t take itself seriously) I’m getting attached to a few of the new villains, particularly Linka Grodd.

Shazam! #5: MARY SIGHTING. Darla remains tiny and adorable and I love her too. This comic remains committed to ridiculous fun villains (and Waid and Mora have apparently been off raiding the ‘underused weird Silver Age villains’ list). Mr Dinosaur is an amazing addition to the canon. (And yes. Billy rebuilt the moon. Oh Shazam!) Also I see we are still back firmly in the ‘jealous Freddie’ plot that’s been hanging around for a while.

Warlord #25: this week we check back in with Tara, Mariah and Machiste. Grell’s done some fabulous art for the splash page that I really really like.

Travis is fighting *checks notes* snow giants as he's still too ashamed to come hang out with his friends and partner after the whole 'I killed Joshua' incident a few issues back. He's also cutting all sort of things with his Damascus Steel sword which I have to remind everyone and note is highly suspicious damascus steel, because it's made from a RIFLE and there is no way the type of steel used was able to be worked as damascene, given it likely was alloyed wrong.

I love Ashir here (the guy actually wearing clothes) as firstly, look! A rare appearance of someone with most of their skin covered! Secondly, Travis' burn of "I didn't know you had character".

Anyway, Travis is moping a bit here about being a lone warrior. You could go and hang out with your friends any time you want, Travis. You're the one who left, not them.

[theinvisiblecatisnotvisible]

Mildly concerning realization two:

UwU is a fun word isn’t it? -It is primarily an emoticon, like :) :D :/ and it’s close cousin :3. But, unlike a lot of these it’s mentally pronounced. UwU and OwO have *sounds* (if someone could tell me how to do italics that would be much appreciated).

It’s written perception is also different from its onomatopoeic (spell check says it’s a word) form. UwU written is an expression of mildly chaotic relaxation, like taking a bath with your entire collection of bubble solutions. UwU as pronounced makes people think of a moan, enough that they may flinch violently or react in a manner akin to food war crimes (I’ve made an entire guide on how to dissect a Twix if that’s of interest to anyone). It’s possible to get from chaotic relaxation to borderline sexual sounds, but the opposite raises questions on whoever made that associations habits.

However, the mental pronunciation is not an easy one to achieve verbally, in fact it has to be *taught* (that how I learned how to do it). This makes the pronunciation of UwU a *skill* (seriously how the fuck do I do italics??). Since it’s a skill UwU pronunciation is arguably an art. Beyond that there is apperenly an UwU language, which has it’s own implications I am not tired enough to theorize on.

Hopefully I’ve made your day better or worse, I’m not picky.

- someone who is the sole reason for an “UwU jail” on her friend discord server.

[surf-wax-canada]

Sunday, June 11, 2023, 10:53pm

I’m so mad at myself. I had a *fun* dream about a friend last night and I don’t want to ruin the friendship she and I have, my marriage, or the friend circle. Not that I’m going to act on it (unless my wife and said friend literally give me written, signed permission), but I think it’s lingering feelings of having a crush on her back in high school. Like I hate to say it, but I think if she hadn’t been religious all those years ago, I might’ve actually tried to shoot my shot with her. It wasn’t me being dissatisfied with her being religious, but me knowing she wouldn’t have wanted to have been with someone who wasn’t religious. That, and I was a dude who wanted to have sex, which wasn’t going to happen any time soon if she and I would’ve been a thing.

What made the dream worse was that I’ve had a few where it was a thing with her, my wife, and myself going at it, but that was the first time in 5 years that it’s been just the friend and I in the dream. It lines up fairly well with me moving away from home, so maybe it means I saw familiar places and was hanging around with her so my brain jumped to make connections? I also ended up taking her and my best friend on a scenic drive for almost 2 hours last night. The three of us slept at his parents’ house for a few hours before she and I left. I gave her a hug, and then had the tiniest urge to give her a cheek kiss. I fucking hate myself for that because I don’t want to ruin things. My wife talks about her “free pass” person and it’s a celebrity dude, but the fact that one of our mutual friends would probably be mine is really taxing on my conscience at times, honestly. Maybe this is compounded by the fact that my wife is only the second person I’ve slept with, and I’m slightly regretful of not getting to be with more people before pulling myself off of the market. I know my wife and I have the same issue to blame for two notably different body counts (which sounds toxic as fuck, but it’s the fastest way to type it, and our numbers are 2 and 17 including each other), but I was mildly reclusive for so many years (and still kinda am), and even then, if I’d known about and accepted all the people who I now know wanted to sleep with me, I’d be at like, 4 instead of 2.

I really should be sleeping but the guilt of that fucking dream threw me off. Wife’s history of being cheated on is especially concerning on my behalf because I can’t talk to her about this dream, especially considering her and the friend are like besties.

[orchidyoonkook]

Holy wow....I- uhh, wow. 

I’m so flattered you the time out of your day not only to read but write this whole ass gigantic review????? I’m literally in shock.

More Below <3

Right so I appreciate her train of thought on this friendship. In all fairness, I see more disadvantages than advantages all around.

I am concerned about him taking photos, I think now they agreed he should ask for permission if he’s going to use them. That or at least hoping that she’s not facing him and her face isn’t recognisable. Either way I’d prefer permission.

I never realized how many lovely folk would be concerned about this. You have no need to be!! <33

I’ll happily spoil a small part of chapter 4 if it brings relief to everyone. The photos are consensual and she isn’t upset with him for taking or using them as it isn’t for anything public. Just his own private practice and use. There’s more too it but that’ll be revealed in due time.

As for the pictures from this chapter, her face isn’t completely obscured, about a quarter of her face is visible. But with the long exposure, her defining features are mildly blurred as well. 

I have thoughts on the Nel situation. Given this is a fic, and she’s the main paring with JK we can make some assumptions… My suspicion is that everything she’s so confident about will come back to bite. As in, he won’t be following these boundaries she is. Either that, or when they spend a long amount of time together, it crumbles given long distance doesn’t allow you enough time to learn all the little annoying things about someone. 5 years and limited time spent together doesn’t sound ideal.

I’m excited to hear all the theories with this. I have the whole fic already planned out (my outline is 10K help) and I’m trying to keep it be as human as possible, while also being a narrative and enjoyable. 

Humans make mistakes, humans want to succeed, humans betray one another, humans want to be happy. They’re both selfless and selfish creatures and it’s fun to play with that dynamic when writing.

And as cliche as it is, it’s the journey not the destination that matters so all I will say for now is thank you for your thoughts and I’ll throw this in the theory pot! <3333

Given this is a F2L trope, and her long term goals of achieving a career independent of his royal clout, my ideal situation would be a long term friendship, like years, growing feelings bloom into a relationship that only becomes a thing and therefore public once she is already established within her own right.

BUT my other concern is that given she is so driven and she sees her future as extremely bright, that’s really gonna hurt if it doesn’t happen, which given it’s art, it’s not unlikely. So many concerns regarding her future for me.

Ahhhh!! I can’t say much here! But will say that reading this made me go back through my outline and I’m literally so excited to write and for you all to read the rest of this story.

I’m still not too keen on Yuri, particularly because OC doesn’t seem to trust her ability to handle this information. I get that it’s due to her previous reaction, but she is intelligent so that reaction in combination with everything else she knows about her means she doesn’t trust her enough. So yeah, not a fan… not much positive to go off.

I honestly can’t blame you here. Yuri’s an intentionally written difficult character that some people just won’t vibe with and that’s totally valid. I get it!! And it thrills me that you don’t immediately like her because that means what I’m attempting is working! <3333

****but**** once more with the human aspect of this piece, I’m trying to show different forms or coping, and trauma responses, happy reaction, etc that go with different upbringings. Not everyone reacts well to certain information when already upset, and while that’s not okay, it happens. So Yuri’s a grown up yes, but she’s only 21, which is still a kid in many ways, at least to me. And she still has so much more room to grow and learn. ❤❤❤

That being said, the secrecy is likely to come back to bite surely. Boyfriend and best friend alike, surely would assume the opposite? Depends how well they know her given she is so private, so that could say a lot too.

We shall see!!!👀👀👀

So a lot of thoughts. In all fairness, outside of the world of fiction I wouldn’t go near a royal. Not a fan of the monarchy in general and the complications they being with them, but this story has a lot of room to take this dynamic.

All thoughts are always welcomed!! Thank you for yours, they were wonderful to read ❤❤. And same!! That’s why I save it for fiction, so much wiggle room to play with!

Intrigued to see where it goes, thank you for writing!

Thank you for your wonderful review. I flat out showed my partner saying “look at this review that I got!! It’s huge!!” cuz I’m a dork and still cant believe people take the time to do this for my little story <33

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 3

Title: Greenhouse Muses and Surprise Guests   

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: You need to think out this whole situation, and where better than your favourite place on campus? The one place where no one ever goes and where you can truly do your best problem solvi—wait who the hell is sitting in your supposed place of undisturbed tranquility? 

Warnings: PG18, heavy swearing, photography jargon (hopefully nothing tooooo confusing, I intentionally over explained a bit for those unfamiliar but a quick google search should clear up anything), euc=short form for eucalyptus “Youke”, art jargon but less, 1 (one) mention of metaphorical murder, and a bit of angst and fluff. I think that’s all?? Hella internal dialogue 

Word Count: 10,804

Release Date: March 2, 4:00PM

A/N 1: she somehow went from 8k to 10.8k???? Hope you enjoy!!

A/N 1.5: I’m literally so tired of looking at this, I’ve read it at least 10 times in three days. 

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two

Jungkook’s sitting at a table outside what he considers to be his new safe haven, making a mental note to thank Yuri for showing him the greenhouse cafe—is that its name? He should’ve asked.

He can see himself coming here all the time for quiet morning work sessions. The coffee is great, the snacks are delicious, and there aren’t a lot of people around either—zero—to be precise. So he really considers this a win in his book.

The cafe is just southwest of a medium sized greenhouse, not even a minute’s walking distance between the two. He could clearly see all the flowers and plants within from his seat outside. And behind the greenhouse was nothing but a small grass field followed by thick, dense forest.

It doesn’t even feel like he’s on campus. Just free about the world, grabbing a coffee and sitting down to work on a project like anyone else would. Like anyone else could. Another face in the crowd instead of the one on magazines in every corner store, book shop and grocer.

He can dream about it. Take in these small moments, but it will never be his reality. Not really. Even in this little corner of blissful nowhere the barista who served him his coffee knew who he was, addressed him properly, albeit a bit stuttered.

And he can’t blame her. It’s what she’s supposed to do. How she’s ‘supposed’ to react to him. 

He’s someone big and important. Someone people look to and see their future in his hands. Someone who merits reactions when in the presence of others. 

Someone who…

Someone…

So he dreams. And is thankful for what little normalcy he can get.

Taking a deep breath in, he holds it and he shakes his head, dismissing the thoughts before releasing a steady, controlled exhale.

Reset.

Keep reading

[woso-fan13]

NO. 18 LET'S BREAK THE ICE

Treading Water 

Vlatko decided to take training in a new direction today: something he decided would be ‘fun’ for everyone. So instead of kicking a ball this morning, you were slipping on a swimming suit. Loading onto the bus, the team soon found themselves at a pool. 

Half the team jumped in as soon as they got the okay, eager to spend time in the water. The others tried to play it cool, but they were just as excited. Pretty soon, the deck was littered with cover-ups as everyone started swimming. 

Slowly, you slipped off your cover-up. You sat on the edge of the shallow end, sticking your feet in the cool water. You could hear everyone talking and splashing, but you focused only on the whirlpools that your spinning feet created. 

“Y/N,” Vlatko’s sharp voice breaks you out of your concentration. “You actually need to be in the water.” 

With all of the eyes in the room on you, you slip into the water. It goes to maybe your waist and is a freezing shock to your core. But you keep your calm, smiling and giving Coach a thumbs up. 

Soon enough, drills began. Most of them had gone well enough and the morning was wrapping up soon, it was almost time to dry off. 

“Alright ladies, one more practice,” Vlatko was met with boos, “yes, I know, I am no fun. Everyone to the deep end, you will tread water for 5 minutes. When you finish, you may get out, get changed, and get back on the bus. Please, no horseplay.”

Everyone makes their way into the deep end. You went to the middle, where the water came up only to your chest. You look around at where everyone is moving out to the deeper water. Suddenly, a hand grabs your arm and pulls you with the crowd. You don’t have time to react, frantically kicking to try to stay afloat and free yourself. You hear laughs from next to you as Ash releases you into the water. Unfairly, she was standing flat-footed with her head above water. But when she let you go, you sank like a rock. 

Standing at the bottom of the pool, you could see the mere inches of water that separated you and air that you could breathe. But you couldn’t get to it. You were stuck, rooted to the pool. You’re panicking, but you don’t flail, you don’t scream. You just go under. 

“Hey Ash, come on,” Ali calls, “come swim with me.”

“I’m coming! I just wanted to drag the kid out first.”

Ali looked around, not seeing you. “Well, where is she? Did you forget her somewhere?”

“What are you talking about? She’s right behind me?” 

Turning around, Ash could see that you were, in fact, not right behind her. Instead, you were 2 yards away, completely underwater. 

Ash hurried to you, quickly pulling you out of the water. As soon as your head is above the surface, you gasp for breath. Almost instantly, you start coughing, water spewing from your mouth and nose. Ash perches you on her hip with one hand, using her other to firmly pat your back, hoping to help get anything else out. 

If the team hadn’t noticed Ash’s rushing through the pool, they definitely could hear you now. All eyes were on you, everyone inching closer. Even Vlatko, from the pool deck, looked mildly concerned. 

Ash looked down at you, “dude, what was that? You scared us. Why didn’t you just swim?”

Still panting, you manage to reply, “cant.”

“You can’t swim?” Ash tried to clarify. You nod in response. 

“You can’t swim but you still got in the water? And didn’t tell anyone?”

At this, you can only shrug. It clearly wasn’t your best idea. Ash sighs a heavy sigh, working her way over to the stairs. Ali pulls herself out of the side of the pool, going over to grab 3 towels. She wraps one around herself before cocooning you in one. Finally, she tosses the last one over Ash’s shoulder, pulling you into her own arms. 

You shiver, coming off of the adrenaline with the cool air of the pool area. Ali rubs a hand up and down one of your arms, trying to get some heat back in you. You lean into the warmth. 

Vlatko decides now is a good time to restart the final test. He also restarts the 5 minute timer, claiming they need to complete the full time. He gives Ali and Ash a firm look, telling them to get back in the pool. But you send him a scared look, clinging tighter to the 2 women. He shakes his head, turning instead to yell at Emily for trying to dunk Kelley. 

[koiotic]

Fuck it, posting the glass eye fic I’ve been sitting on for a few months

•••

Katara didn’t trust Zuko as far as she could throw him, and based on past experiences, she couldn’t throw him very far without waterbending. Not that she’d hesitate to waterbend at him if he tried anything- and at this point, she was just waiting for him to slip up.

Which was why she was immediately ready to water whip him off the side of the temple when she heard Sokka’s terrified shriek. Okay, so maybe she didn’t exactly have proof he’d done anything, or even that he was anywhere near Sokka, but she ran towards the noise, water pouch at the ready, planning the best way to toss him out a window anyway-

And it was Zuko! She let herself have the vindication for a moment. Just a moment. Then asked “Sokka, what did you do?”

Look, she hated Zuko’s guts, but he didn’t look like he was actively hurting anyone right now, staring at Sokka in shock and clutching his face (the scarred side, she noted).

For good measure, she repeated the question at Zuko, because Sokka had screamed and he didn’t usually do that for no reason.

“I was just getting dressed!” Zuko protested, halfway between confused and afraid. “And he just came in and started screaming!”

Sokka made a strangled noise and gestured emphatically at Zuko, which cleared up absolutely nothing. “He- he- his- I-“

“Sokka!” She snapped. “What happened?”

Zuko lowered his hand a little and Sokka let out another half yelp. The firebender glared, then winced a little, still not uncovering his face.

“Wait, Sokka, did you hit him?”

Katara was a responsible person, who disapproved of hitting people on principle. She was not frowning at Sokka because she was jealous.

“No!” Sokka managed to get out. “Zuko- he- his eye fell out!”

Oh.

“Sokka...” she sighed. “Are you high again?”

“Wait-“ Zuko cut in, looking a little less confused (Katara would be angry with him for interrupting later, when she was less desperately perplexed). “You were freaking out because I took my eye out?”

“You... you what?” Katara was now matching Sokka’s confused horror. “You took your what out?”

Zuko lowered his hands, and yep, one eye. One eye and one not-eye, because Zuko only had one eye, and an empty eye socket, because what in Tui’s name was-

“What the fuck-“ She wasn’t sure if that was her or Sokka.

One - one - creepy gold eye blinked at them. “It’s a glass eye,” Zuko said slowly. “I kinda have to take it out sometimes.”

That explained everything and nothing at all. “It’s a what?” Sokka demanded.

“Glass eye,” Zuko said, then waved something small and eye-shaped in their general direction. He looked slightly more annoyed than usual, and then it struck Katara that someone screaming when they saw your face probably didn’t do wonders for self-esteem. “An eye. Made of glass.”

Sokka looked outright terrified. “But... how did your eye turn into glass? That happens? Do I have to worry about that?”

Katara did not slam her head into the wall, showing incredible self restraint. “Sokka, you idiot!” she groaned.

He grabbed her by the shoulders, eyes wide. “Katara, why didn’t you tell me this could happen?!”

As a healer, she had a duty to tell him he was being an absolute idiot and that it was clearly a prosthetic.

As a little sister, she had a duty to fuck with him, and that was a far more sacred duty.

“I’m sorry, Sokka,” she managed to sigh. “I didn’t want you to worry, with all the stuff you do that- no, don’t worry. It’s not so bad.”

“What?” His voice was strangled in fear. “Katara, what? Katara what am I doing?! How do I stop it?! Katara?!”

She’d almost forgotten about Zuko until he very sadly said “why do you think Aang doesn’t eat meat? The Avatar needs two eyes, and if one falls out, it could cause problems.”

She did not like Zuko at all, but right then, she loved him.

Ten minutes later, Sokka had sworn off meat, and then the other contributing factors to eyes spontaneously turning into glass and falling out: sarcasm, boomerangs and being an annoying big brother.

“He knows we’re joking, right?” Zuko asked cautiously after Sokka sprinted out to apologise to the spirits for making fun of waterbending.

“Eh, he’ll figure it out.”

———

“So,” Toph said as they settled down for dinner - with Sokka being late for a meal for the first time in his life, “why is Snoozles throwing seal jerky into the canyon?”

“I have a glass eye,” Zuko explained.

The earthbender nodded sagely. “Yeah, makes sense.”

Aang was slowly looking between the three of them like it would make any of this any more sensical. “Uh... what?”

“Long story,” Katara sighed.

Her brother strode up to the campfire with his usual level of theatre, then remembered that being dramatic was also a risk factor and very calmly and slowly sat down. “I think I’m safe.”

“What about your hair?” Zuko asked, completely blank faced.

“... please tell me this isn’t why you had the bald ponytail.”

“You think I did that willingly? No, I needed at least one eye working.”

Sokka sprinted into the temple.

“You’re not actually going to let him shave his hair, are you?” Zuko asked, looking mildly concerned.

Okay, this was perfect and Katara would remember it lovingly for the rest of her life, but even her natural little sister sadism wouldn’t stretch that far. “Toph, please bring him back here.”

———

“Toph, let me out of the rock! I need my eyes!”

———

“Wait... what?”

———

“What do you mean it’s not a medical condition?!”

———

“What do you mean it’s a prosthetic!?!”

———

“YOU LET ME THROW THE SEAL JERKY AWAY!”

———

“Okay,” Sokka said calmly, two hours and a lot of yelling later. “That was a very cruel prank and I’m never forgiving any of you.”

“Shut up, Snoozles,” Toph scoffed.“There are more important things than your dignity. For example,” she turned to Zuko with a huge grin, “can I touch it?”

“It’s been in his head!” Sokka screeched. Apparently the dramatics were back on. “It has head goo on it!”

Katara frowned. “Sokka, how do you think bodies work?”

“Please?” Toph begged, giving very impressive polar-puppy-dog eyes for someone who couldn’t see. “No one ever lets me touch their real eyes.”

“Because you’re a menace,” Katara scoffed.

“Please, Sparky?”

“Ugh, fine,” Zuko sighed. “Give me a second.”

It occurred to everyone a moment too late that, oh yeah, if anyone was going to spontaneously invent glassbending, it would be Toph.

[softiem]

you used to paint his skies (pt. 2)

pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x GN!Reader

overview: The one in which Bokuto is still swearing up and down that he loves you, but the nagging feeling in your chest is too strong to ignore.

word count: ~4.3k

content warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, MSBY!Bokuto, mildly suggestive scene at the end (no nsfw), our baby Bokuto kind of loses it at the end, don’t let the fluffy interludes deceive you again

notes: I’M SO SORRY FOR LITERALLY BEING DEAD FOR 6 MONTHS,,, Here’s the second part to “you used to paint his skies” :D (I think this is better than part one — at least I hope so). Some people asked to be tagged for this second part, so those will be below. Thank you for reading, darlings ʕ ´•̥̥̥ ᴥ•̥̥̥`ʔ <333

part one.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

“Baby?”

Faint sniffles came from Bokuto, whose head was currently nestled on your lap, the two of you strewn across the sofa. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, as if he were afraid that holding you any looser would cause you to disappear from his arms. His voice was quiet, meek — nothing like the loud, boisterous ball of energy you’d grown to adore, to cherish.

To fall in love with.

Now, here the both of you were, a pile of cracked and fragmented pieces of the love you once shared, desperately grasping at whatever you could salvage from the mess.

You hummed a response.

“Are we gonna be okay?” Bokuto turned his head, his eyes staring up at you — wide, teary, and filled with a broken sense of hope.

In an attempt to avoid breaking down a third time, you cleared your throat. You still couldn’t look down at him, into his eyes that seemed to praise your very existence, even after the pain you caused.

“Please.” His voice cracked.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, Kou-Bokuto.”

He bit his lip roughly, enough to bite into the skin and draw a slight trace of blood. Choking on a weak sob, he nestled his head into your stomach once more. He couldn’t stop you from calling him that name anymore; he’d lost that privilege.

What could he have been asking for? For you to simply just call him your Koutarou again? For you not to leave him and stay in his arms? For you to kiss him and wipe those tears running from his pretty eyes as you tell him you’ll love him forever, no matter what?

Quite honestly, Bokuto didn’t know what he was asking of you; he didn’t know what he wanted from you.

The only thing running through his mind was the fact that he’d just ruined the best thing to ever happen to him.

You.

You, the love of his life. He knew you like the back of his hand.

He knew how, despite your small tendency to be romantically constipated, you tried your best to love him — even to the point of using stupidly cheesy pet names for each other.

– – – – –

“Please, baby!” Bokuto had your hands tightly grasped in his. “I swear, if you do this for me, I won’t ever ask you for anything else for the rest of my life — okay, that’s a lie because I really want ice cream after this, but you know what I mean!”

“Kou.” You drew in a breath. “I’m saying yes to the ice cream later, but those are the cheesiest pet names I have ever heard of.”

You saw the way Bokuto visibly deflated as he heard your soft rejection of his idea.

For the rest of the night (after stopping by the store and getting yourselves two tubs of ice cream, of course), the two of you sat cuddled up on the sofa half-paying attention to whatever B-list movie was recommended to you. Occasionally, you would hear Bokuto let out a deep sigh, most likely to try and guilt trip you into doing what he asked of you earlier.

Turning your head to face him, you grinned at the little pout on his lips as his eyes bore holes into the TV screen.

“Hey, Kou.”

Nothing. His attention stayed glued to the TV. The only sign that showed he’d heard you was the deepening of his pout.

“Koutaro, pretty boy. I’m talking to you,” you giggled.

Still nothing. You racked your brain for all of the possible ways this could end — every one of them resulted in the same thing.

Sighing, you brought up a finger to poke at his cheek. “Hey, dovey.”

If Bokuto were a dog, his ears would have stood straight up and his tail would have started wagging as he whipped his head around to look at you.

“Say that again,” he demanded, his eyes wide and sparkling and the corner of his lips twitching, just barely restraining a smile.

When you didn’t reply, his fingers prodded at your side — a promise to tickle you if you didn’t humour him right now.

“Say it again! Who am I?”

“You’re my dovey.”

“And who are you?”

You struggled to fight the urge to curl up into yourself as you answered him, “I’m your lovey.”

“And what are we together?” Bokuto brought his face closer to yours, his eyes going back and forth between your eyes and lips.

“We’re lovey dovey.” You completed it with a pair of awkward jazz hands.

With that, Bokuto’s face split into a blinding smile as his laughter rang through the living room. He brought you tight into his arms and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“Yes! I knew you could do it, lovey!” Your cheeks grew warm as you were subjected to his rain of kisses on your face. 

Pulling him in for one last kiss to your lips, you whispered, “I love you so much, Kou.”

– – – – –

He knew how he was always the first thing on your mind; you’d put him as your first priority without fail, no matter how busy you were, even when he hadn’t put you as his.

– – – – –

Bokuto stared up at the crisp, white ceiling — hospitals were never a fun place to be in. He was broken from his thoughts when the door to his room burst open, revealing you in your ever-ethereal work clothes rushing toward him.

“Babe! Are you alright?” Stopping at the side of his bed, you brought his hand up to place a kiss on his knuckles.

Bokuto let out a light laugh as he intertwined his fingers with yours. “Yeah, it’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing to worry about, honey.”

“What do you mean ‘nothing to worry about’? Your coach said that you’d have to be out for two weeks!”

“That’s not too much! It’s not like I’ll be missing the whole season, angel.”

“But, Kou, you also have to–”

Bokuto stopped your worried rambling as he pulled you down, giving you a soft kiss on your lips and cheeks. He gave you a smile.

“Stop worrying, baby! Everything will be fine because I have the cutest, smartest, and kindest nurse to help me recover, right?”

“And who’s that?” You sent him a teasing look as your hands shuffled through your pockets looking for your phone.

“You, silly!” He paused before staring up at you in concern. “You are going to take care of me, right, baby?”

“I don’t know about that, Kou. Work has been hectic lately.” You pulled out your phone.

“But I’m injured! And I’m your boyfriend too! You can’t just leave your injured boyfriend alone to fend for himself! Baby!” Walking away from his bed, you exited the hospital room, tapping away on your phone.

A few minutes passed before you returned, seeing Bokuto sulking in the hospital bed, a familiar pout on his lips.

Your eyes softened as you gave him a smile. “Guess who just got two weeks off?”

– – – – –

The foundation of your relationship was built upon the fact that the two of you knew each other like no other; you loved each other like no other.

So how had everything culminated into such a mess?

“Bokuto.” You felt the way his body stiffened as you called his name.

“Yes,” he hesitated, “honey?”

“Do you remember what I told you a couple years ago? About what I thought of love?”

Feeling a prickling sensation in his nose, Bokuto squeezed his eyes shut, forcing out a few tears that had collected on his eyelashes.

His voice came out hoarse and weak as he whispered, “I could never forget.”

– – – – –

The sky was enveloped in a cloak of darkness, but not even the onslaught of exhaustion could prevent the two of you from leaning back on the picnic blanket to stare up at the shimmering stars.

“Baby?” Bokuto turned his head to where you lay beside him. You hummed in response, half of your attention taken by the stars.

“What do you think about love?”

You raised an eyebrow, rolling onto your side to fully look at your boyfriend.

The moonlight casted harsh shadows on his face, but the way he looked at you — eyes sparkling with curiosity and the corners of his lips curled into a light smile — softened the darkness surrounding the two of you.

“Where did that question come from?” You raised a hand to lightly trace over the curves and slopes of his face; your thumb caressed his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“Answer my question first, and then I’ll tell you.” His eyes turned into little crescent moons as he smiled at you. “Deal?”

You pretended to think about it for a few seconds. “Hm, three kisses please,” you said, wiggling three of your fingers.

Bokuto laughed, indulging you with a kiss to both of your cheeks and a final kiss to your lips.

“Okay, okay,” you giggled. “You asked me what I think about love?”

He nodded.

“Well,” you sighed, turning back to face the midnight sky above you, “I think that love is like the sky — the sun, to be specific. It’s always changing, and everything is so unpredictable about it. There’s so much potential for destruction in what the sky holds. But, there’s always one constant. Do you know what it is, Kou?” You looked at him.

“What is it, angel?” His golden eyes glimmered, as if they were holding stars themselves.

Adjusting your position on the picnic blanket (you curled closer into Bokuto, who wrapped an arm around your shoulders), you continued, “It’s the sun. No matter how much it rains or snows or whatever weather catastrophe is happening, the sun is always going to be there. Sure, you can have multiple suns like those Star Wars planets, but…” you trailed off, looking into his eyes. “... I think I’m happy with my one sunshine.”

Bokuto, ever the romantic, pulled you into a nearly-bone-crushing hug as he laughed into your shoulder. After peppering kisses to your neck and jaw, he pulled away to look at you. He sported the brightest smile, but something sparkled behind those eyes of his.

“Baby?”

“Yeah?”

“I think you’re getting cheesier than me.”

You groaned, leaning away from him, “Shut up, Kou!”

He giggled before placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Now let’s get home before these mosquitoes eat us alive, honey.”

“And then you’ll tell me where you got that question from?”

“Of course, honey! I never break a deal!”

– – – – –

How could he forget what you said? Every word you’ve ever spoken to him, he’s grasped onto like a lifeline, as if they would be your last. He was so close to bursting — so close to pulling himself off of your lap, looking into your pretty eyes, grasping your shoulders, and yelling at you, screaming at you, asking why you would think he could ever forget anything about you. How dare you think he could ever forget anything about you?

But he couldn’t do that. Not to you. Not anymore.

He didn’t realise that you’d gone silent — his world had gone silent — until your sniffles broke his reverie. His arms tightened around your waist as his head nuzzled into your stomach once again; it was a broken act of comfort.

“Honey,” the edges of his voice cracked as he called out for you. “Talk to me. Please. Don’t… don’t stay quiet.”

Being met with another bout of silence was almost excruciating. Bokuto was struggling to keep himself together, to keep his head above the water before he drowned in his thoughts of losing you.

He launched himself up from your lap, grabbing your face with shaky hands. He had tears running down his face once again. His face was blotchy, and his hair was a mess. He was a mess.

“Please, lovey,” he whispered. If you stayed silent just one minute longer, he’d collapse. He was sure of it. Fighting the urge to just sit himself in your lap, pull you tight against him, and beg you not to leave, Bokuto settled with caressing the skin under your shirt.

Finally, you broke the silence.

“I forgot to tell you one thing that night.” You moved your hand from where it was resting in his hair back to your side; he tensed at the loss of your touch.

He swallowed, his anxiety began to pile up once again. “What’d you forget, baby?”

“Even though the sun” — your voice cracked — “is a constant, sometimes it can be too much. Burn too bright and dry up everything underneath the sky. Sometimes...” you paused to take a deep breath, trying to swallow back the lump that was growing in your throat. “Sometimes the sun can do even worse harm than anything the sky could do.”

Bokuto could feel the gradual increase of his heartbeat. He shook his head, his fingers involuntarily digging into your skin. No, no, you didn’t mean that. You couldn’t mean that. If you did he… he didn’t know what he would do.

“I’m sorry, Bokuto,” you murmured, “I can’t stay here any longer.”

You tried to pry yourself out of his grip, but he wouldn’t relent. His arms were shaking as he pulled you even closer into him. He was whispering something to himself.

“Bokuto, I’m being serious.” You tried to keep your voice stable but failed miserably — it all came out shaky, your tone uneven. “Let me go.”

His whispers grew louder until you could finally understand what he was saying.

“No, no. This isn’t real. I love you. I love you. No, don’t leave. Please don’t leave. I love you.”

You called his name. Once, twice, thrice. As you called for him, his whispers grew to full-blown cries.

“Bokuto!”

“I’M SORRY DON’T LEAVE ME!”

But the only thing your eyes chose to focus on was the trail of red and purple leading down his neck.

You felt a prickling sensation behind your eyes, a feeling that had grown familiar to you in the past few hours.

Bokuto caught the wandering of your eyes down his neck, a faraway mist muddled the irises he loved gazing into; he realised what you were staring at, forcing down a choked sob. He clenched his jaw, violently cursing himself for making you feel like you weren’t enough, like you weren’t the one keeping him standing straight.

Like you weren’t his sun, moon, stars, and whatever else you filled the fucking sky with.

He gently moved your head, trying to get you to look back into his eyes and away from the bruised mistake that marred his skin. His thoughts only filled with one thing — “Come back to me, baby.”

Waves of relief crashed against him once you met his eyes.

“Baby– Angel– I’m so– I don’t– Please–” Bokuto struggled to keep his thoughts straight. Not when you stared at him with an iciness that pierced his heart every time he looked back into your eyes, hoping to find even the smallest trace of love left for him.

He let out a rough sigh, frustrated with his inability to speak through the racing of his heart. His hands, still cupping your face, lightly squeezed your cheeks to ground himself. He looked back to you, his eyes swimming with even more tears, trying to send a message to you that he couldn’t put into words.

You looked away from him, focusing on the ticking clock on the wall as you gnawed your lip. A question had been running through your mind ever since he cracked into your resolve to leave and pulled you to the sofa, laying his head in your lap.

Your eyes turned back to him.

“Can you tell me something, Bokuto?”

“Yes, yes, baby, of course. I’ll do anything you want.” He eagerly nodded, a small spark of hope sparkled within him.

“Why’d you lie?”

He felt as though you just dumped him into one of Atsumu’s god-awful ice baths.

“What’re you saying, angel?” His eyebrows furrowed. “I’ve never lied to you.”

“Earlier,” you croaked. “I asked you earlier how long you’ve been” — you couldn’t say that word; it’d hurt too much — “messing around.”

A glint of recognition passed his eyes.

Continuing, you forced your voice out, even though it grew weaker the more you tried to hide your pain, “You said that it was just this once. That wasn’t the whole truth, was it?”

Fuck. Bokuto took his hands away from your face, opting to grasp one of your hands in his. He gave your knuckles a kiss before looking back at you, his eyes teeming with unadulterated guilt and desperation.

“I-I knew them before this ever happened. We met at one of the team parties, but you weren’t there because you were at work.” He saw a glimpse of darkness shadow over your face, and his heartbeat picked up again (not that it ever really settled). “But we never did anything! Not until last night, at least.” His voice grew quiet at the end.

“And never once did it occur to you to tell them that you were taken?”

Bokuto’s lips started trembling — no doubt he’d begin crying again. He looked down, trying to avoid your glare, but his grip on your hand never loosened.

“Please, baby. I’m so sorry,” he choked out, “I’m so fucking sorry. I fucked up in the worst way possible. But I promise you, I never did anything with them before. We just talked at that one party. I promise you that. I promise, honey.”

The look in your eyes became even colder, even more distant; something akin to hatred was present as well. No, this couldn’t be happening. His worst nightmare was coming true. You’d finally learned the truth and were going to leave him. You might have called him your sunshine that one night two years ago, but, to him, you were his oxygen — without you, he was truly nothing. Just a corpse of a man, not worth wasting a breath on.

He was losing you. Again.

“I’m leaving, Bokuto.” You roughly pulled your hand from his grasp, ignoring his cries for you to please stop, to listen for just a minute longer. “Don’t you dare try to look for me.”

Bokuto whimpered, following you to where you were trying to pick up your bags in your haste of anger. Once again, he tugged at the straps, trying to steal them away from you, but his arms grew weak at the scowl pointed his way.

His breath quickened, and his heart raced. He was panicking, grasping at straws to have to rethink your choice and stay with him so he could apologise for the rest of both of your lives. He’d spend the remainder of eternity begging for your forgiveness if only you’d just stay with him.

But he couldn’t say a word. Not with his blinded panic, and definitely not with the terrible, agonising look you were giving him as you stared back at him.

Was this how you felt when he’d walked out on you last night? Hopeless. Defenseless. As if you weren’t even worth a grain of sand underneath the other’s shoe.

“Lovey, I’m sorry!” Bokuto cried out one more time, hoping that he’d reach out to whatever small piece of love you still held for him. “I said I’m sorry! Please just forgive me, don’t leave me. Please! I’m begging you! Whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it a million times over. Just, please,” he quieted to a whisper, just barely reaching your ears, “stay with me, and we can get through this together.”

His face crumpled as he heard your responding scoff.

“There’s no more ‘together’ for us, Bokuto.”

Your words stung — well, they stung as much as a gunshot or a knife to the heart would sting. He pressed on, desperate to get you to hear him out.

“I’m your sunshine, right? Your dovey. Your babe. Your pretty boy. Your Koutarou. Right?” He gripped onto the hem of his shirt, balling his hands into fists. “No matter what you call me, I’m yours. And I always will be. Even if you leave me right now, I’ll never stop looking for you. You know why?”

You stayed silent.

“Because I am just as much your sun as you are mine.”

His words echoed in your mind — that twisted, gnawing feeling came back in your gut. You knew that if you stayed for one more minute, it’d be over for you, and you’d go running back into his arms that always held you so tightly. Into his arms that smelt like home. Into his arms that made you feel like you were on top of the world as long as he was by your side. Into his arms that held onto another once the two of you reached a rough patch.

You made your decision.

“Koutarou…” His head snapped up to look at you, his eyes wide and glittering with a false sense of hope. “I’m sorry. I have to leave.”

There was another feeling growing within Bokuto. It was ugly, festering in the deepest parts of his mind — coming from a place that refused to acknowledge his faults. This feeling, it blamed

you. Why would you hurt him like this? How could you hurt him like this? You said he was your sunshine, your dovey, your Koutarou! How cruel could you be to lead him on, calling him ‘Koutarou’ again? You said you loved him!

“Don’t leave me!” He raised his voice. This feeling was taking over him, and it was angry. “If you leave, I’ll-I’ll…” His voice trailed off as he tried to regain control of himself.

Your brows furrowed. He still had the energy to yell, huh?

“You’ll what?” You took a step toward him. He looked away from you, trying to avoid your burning gaze. “Tell me, Koutarou. What will you do if I leave?”

He shook his head; you knew what that meant — “I won’t say it.”

“You’ll go back to them, won’t you?” you scoffed. “Have fun, Koutarou.”

Adjusting the straps of your bags, you gave him one last glare before moving toward the door once more.

That feeling came back in Bokuto’s mind, and it was stronger than ever. Pounding against the walls he built up, it roared, telling him to make you regret hurting him, make you think twice about leaving him. Bokuto was panicking, his will to beg you to stay was growing weaker as the feeling inside him became increasingly angry at you for causing him so much pain.

He knew he’d regret the next words he’d say to you, but that realisation came a second too late.

“I’ll never forgive you!”

You froze. Turning back around to face him, your eyes narrowed. “What?”

“If you leave me, I’ll never forgive you!”

His eyes were burning into you, a raging fire behind them.

“You’ll never forgive me?” you spat.

As quickly as the fire grew, it was extinguished as Bokuto’s expression morphed into one of shock.

“Wait, baby, I didn’t mean it! I promi–”

Dropping your bags by the door, you strided toward his figure. Pushing him against the wall, you pulled him in by the collar, melding his lips with yours.

The kiss was rough, angry, desperate — an amalgamation of everything you’ve felt in the past few hours going back and forth with Bokuto.

You pushed yourself into the space between his legs as he finally recovered from his shock and tried to match your tempo, his hands pulling you close into his body. Your teeth clashed together, and you had half the mind to bite his tongue in your mouth, but you held back.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you pulled his head back, ignoring his small, pained whine. The offensive mess of red and purple blotches still covered the expanse of his neck. A scowl grew on your face.

Bokuto yelped as he felt your lips latch onto his neck, sucking your own bruises over the ones already existing from his escapade. You were rough, unrelenting in your nearly-primal way of claiming him.

Trying to ignore your satisfaction from hearing his whimpers of your name, you pulled away, looking at your series of marks covering the ones from his other lover. The two of you were left panting — him trying to meet your eyes and you trying to avoid looking at him at all costs.

Leaning into his ear, you placed a gentle bite on his lobe. He tensed ever-so-slightly.

“You’ll never forgive me if I leave?” you hummed.

His hands that were under your shirt, roaming across your back, froze.

“B-Baby, wait, I didn’t–” He tried to plead with you until your next words completely shattered what was left of his broken, battered heart.

“I think I can live with that.”

You quickly backed away from him, evading his attempts to grab at your waist to stop you from leaving, and picked up your bags by the door. Looking back at him one last time, you nearly broke your facade.

After all he’s done, you still loved your Koutarou — no matter how much you tried to convince yourself otherwise — and seeing him on his knees, sobbing, begging you not to leave for the umpteenth time, your will was wearing thin.

“Goodbye, Koutarou.”

The slam of the front door echoed across the remnants of his shattered heart and all he had the strength to do was cry. Pulling at the strands of his hair, he sobbed, begging into the air, weeping with no one to listen to him.

Without you, his world had no sky; everything was bathed in the shadow of your absence.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

tags: @katelyns-stuff @random-fandom-girl-24

[vallkary]

YAY :D

SO THIS THANG

Kittsu Lastname!!

Her main selling points:

Existing in the Pokémon universe, or, well, an AU of it kind of

Amnesiac <333

So mildly concerning in so many ways and it’s a jumpscare every time it’s brought up. She doesn’t remember the majority of her life. She’s clearly not human but shows no signs of being a Pokémon, either. Lacks nails of any kind. She tried to dye her hair once and the dye boiled and destroyed itself. She’s silly goofy like that

Part of a Rotomblr (Pokémon rp space) found family that I am so so attached to. She is the source of current horrors, however

Being French /j

What started as a sort of self-insert rp blog turned into an actual character that’s kind of difficult to write in a purely RP setting! The story she’s a part of is bigger than herself, and is meant to follow themes of Inherited Tragedy and Generational Trauma in a way!! Similar to the game What Remains of Edith Finch

I’m tentatively calling her story “Eclipsing” based on the name of the current arc on her rp blog, and though it doesn’t fit the entire theme, it’s still fun!

It’s hard to explain her family, because a lot of it is muddled up. She’s muddled up, and that’s why her memory is gone in a way. She’s a part of three seperate families in her own way, her Biological, the ones who Claimed her, and her true, Found Family that she was taken from (and will eventually return to, as soon as I finish making the Eclipsint Finale comic)

She has different names for them too

“Euphrosyne Rose” is her birth name. “Éliane Marisolis” is the name she was given. “Kittsu” is the name she chose for herself, and she was given the surname “Chroma” after she was basically taken in by the Chroma Family (written by a friend of mine!!)

I am shaking her so much

She has no ties to Marisolis. She is the key to their tragedy. She feels doomed to a fate and let that ruin her life. The fate wasn’t even hers. She thought she was only a placeholder for her chosen family. She let that tear them all apart.

She is so doomed by the narrative I absolutely love her she’s a ball of tragedy that’s canonically met a god and all it did was ruin a perfectly good pot of Mac-n-cheese (and raid the house of all food but shsh)

I’m currently working on a comic for the Eclipsing Finale, so her rp blog is on a sort of hiatus until I finish that!! I’m having fun but I’m also pacing myself so I don’t burn out :D

Here is her fuckass brother that everybody hates for your enjoyment <333 (he name is Achlys and he is banned in every public space)

Wagh I have many things to say about her, but I think it’s too long for one reblog so I’ll just answer to anything you might be curious about /lh /nf

Do you want to play touys with me /nf

(me asking permission to talk about my singular OC bc I like her a lot)

YES !!! ^___^

[shutupanddance]

TOS Spock but flirting with reader and they don't have a clue.

Seriously, though, how do Vulcans flirt???🤔

Oh boy, this one threw me for a ringer!! Love it!! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing <3

- Okay, Vulcans definitely flirt. It’s just different.

- Since they‘re a highly intellectual species, and are less concerned with being sentimental, flirting is usually in the form of a conversation.

- The idea being: I want to share my mind with you. Because that’s the most precious thing to a Vulcan.

- Most Vulcans refuse to do anything that would count as “flirting”, but for Spock, flirting is sharing information and time.

- He asks you questions. All the time. It’s his way of saying “I respect you“, but also “I love the sound of your voice”.

- Usually it’s about missions, your opinions on things, or whatever your area of expertise is.

- This REALLY confuses you, because he’s so intelligent, and doesn’t usually want to hear others’ opinions. You take it at first that he’s trying to make fun of you.

- However, after spending more time together (another flirting technique, employed usually on the observation deck), you begin to realize he’s genuine. Still, from a human standpoint, it seems like he just wants to be friends.

- Spock is practically ripping his hair out (and everyone else on the Enterprise is too, for that matter) because he spends WAY more time and energy on you, but you’re still clueless.

- He’s constantly trying to get alone time in, and will plunge head-on into any conversation or debate with you. Still, you stand there and laugh and talk like you’re best friends.

- Finally, Kirk gets sick of it.

- Cue some REALLY awkward suggestions on flirting. Spock is mildly disgusted.

Partially because the ideas all sound stupid, but also because he knows you, and he knows you’d rather hear from him than a version of him edited to fit your human perspective. So he decides to approach you more directly, but still as himself.

- It‘s one night on the observation deck that he works up the guile.

”Ms. Y/N, I understand that I may have failed in this front thus far, but I am attempting to initiate a relationship with you. And I was hoping you have the same idea.”

- You’re shocked, to say the least, but everything suddenly clicks into place. All the coffees he’s brought you. All the stories he’s listened to you tell, and all the lab experiments he invited you to watch.

I’m an idiot, you think.

- But Spock isn’t looking at you like you’re an idiot. He’s looking at you like his life depends on your words.

Of course, you say yes.

[fleetsonourgecentral]

I bring you a thought: Scourge has to be the one to tell Tails to get out of the workshop and go to bed at a reasonable time for once. Tails refuses. Chaos and violence follow. (I’m just finding myself with a new craving for Scourge acting like a big brother and thought of you.) Have a wonderful week!!

I am holding this thought in my hands thank u

~~~

There were upsides and downsides to Sonic being away from the rest of the Freedom Fighters. Surprisingly, the upsides did not outweigh the downsides. Sure, Scourge got to do whatever he wanted in the kitchen without Sonic around to yank him away from the kettle by his ear, and sure, it meant he usually wouldn't be expected to do any, blech, hero stuff, but it also left him without his favourite person. (To annoy. Favourite person to annoy, because that was definitely his priority, and the part about being apart from his boyfriend definitely did not bother him at all.)

And apparently, recently it also meant some of his responsibilities were dumped on Scourge instead.

Not the mildly interesting ones like leading the Freedom Fighters, either; according to Amy he was "too much of a loose canon" and "not concerned enough about civilians" or whatever and thus wasn't allowed near the leader position. No, his brand new responsibility was that he was expected to babysit one Miles Tails Prower. A fact Sonic conveniently forgot to inform him of until the second before walking out of the door, when he'd called out, "By the way, keep Pixel Brain in line while I'm gone!"

Because if there was one thing Scourge's entire demeanor screamed, it was good with kids.

To the kid's credit, he wasn't the worst Tails Scourge had ever met. He was no natural born genius like Prime Tails, but he wasn't always looking out for a way to stab Scourge in the back like Miles did, so he wasn't awful. He just... wasn't the kind of kid Scourge was used to. He was used to Tails being some super genius on par with Robotnik or Kintobor. He was used to a frighteningly clever fox who was (sometimes) his terrified minion or Prime's loyal sidekick.

But this Tails? He was a Freedom Fighter, sure, but he was nothing special. It was easier to see him as a kid than any other Tails he'd met, and it showed in the way Sonic treated him, much to the brat's dismay.

Scourge didn't really know what to do with that, so he had no clue how he was supposed to handle these brand new babysitting duties.

Still, he didn't... feel right just blowing the job off on someone else. Probably because of those pesky feelings he'd managed to catch. He knew Sonic trusted him - he never would've agreed to date Scourge if he didn't - but being asked to keep an eye on Tails was something else. A show of trust he'd never even considered possible to receive. Sonic made fun of Tails more than he made fun of anyone else, but he was also the first person to go for the throat of anyone who tried to seriously hurt him.

So to be entrusted with keeping an eye on him? It was a responsibility he was reluctant to put down despite how much it weighed in his arms.

Tails was important to Sonic, and Sonic was important to Scourge, so like it or not, Scourge was obligated to watch the kid.

So far, it hadn't turned out too bad. Tails wasn't a little kid, and he'd been left on his own in worse situations, so he could keep himself safe and didn't need Scourge to watch his every move. In the unlikely event of an emergency happening, it would probably be down to Scourge to pull the kid out of any trouble he got into, but for now, all Scourge could really come up with was making sure he ate and slept. Which was, to his knowledge, pretty much the only thing Sonic did anyway, so it was fine, right?

Tails had been in the lab all day anyway. Apparently he'd started showing an interest in expanding his mechanics knowledge, and Tekno had jumped on the opportunity to teach him everything she knew and get herself a little assistant. And Tekno (probably) knew more about kids than he did, so Scourge was content to leave Tails in her hands.

At least until she roped him into it, with "just make sure you chase him to bed on time like Sonic would, please Scourge, Amy and I have a date and we'll be back late, please okay thank you bye now!"

An exchange that, he should mention, he did not manage to get a word into.

A glance at the clock told Scourge it was finally time to drag Tails to bed. The kid was supposed to leave the lab fifteen minutes ago, but he hadn't come out yet, which meant it was down to Scourge. As annoying as Kintobor's nagging was, it was easy to ignore or even mute him, and there was only so much he could do, so Scourge couldn't rely on him to chase Tails out of the lab.

With a sigh, Scourge hauled himself out his chair and headed down to the lab. Responsibility time it was, then. Sonic was damn lucky Scourge loved him.

As expected, Tails was hunched over a bench, fiddling with something Scourge couldn't see due to it being hidden behind huge clumps of wires and scrap parts. His tongue was poking out in concentration, eyebrows furrowed and squinting at whatever he was working on as he muttered to himself.

Okay. Just chase him up to bed. Easy. He was just a kid, and not even a super genius like every other Tails in the multiverse. Really, how hard could it be?

"Hey shortshit," Scourge said, knocking on the wall of the lab. "Put that shit down, it's time for bed."

"Mmuh?" Tails blinked, squinting up at Scourge like he'd forgotten how to open his eyes properly. "Aww, c'mon, just five more minutes. I've almost got it."

"Yeah, nah, you've already had five more minutes three times, you're all out of five minutes. Get."

"But I'm not tired," Tails protested, demonstrating how not tired he was by yawning loudly and rubbing his eye with his fist.

Man, he really did look like a kid when he did stuff like that. If Scourge had even a scrap of a protective instinct in his body, he would probably understand why Sonic viewed Tails as a kid to look after a tiny bit better.

Scourge did not have that scrap of a protective instinct. He did, however, have several scraps of self preservation, all of which told him to chase the brat to bed just in case Sonic decided failing to do so meant he wasn't living up to his "keep an eye on Pixel Brain" task and threw him in the doghouse. Which was almost the same as a protective instinct, right?

"Sure, squirt. Go be not tired in bed, then, but not in here."

Tails stared at him, assessed him, then jutted his jaw out in defiance and said, "You're not the boss of me."

"Think you'll find Sonic says I am. But if you really wanna take that up with him when he gets back, be my guest. In the meantime, get your ass to bed."

"No."

Oh, Scourge was beginning to remember why he didn't like kids.

"Listen, either you walk yourself to bed, or I drag you out by your tails. What's it gonna be, shorty?"

Tails shrank back, glancing down at the table in uncertainty, fiddling with whatever he was making. Scourge smirked and folded his arms. Too easy.

And then Tails glanced back up.

... Too easy.

Tails was not a natural born child genius. He did not have an IQ on par with Robotnik or Kintobor, he wasn't Scourge's (sometimes) terrified minion or Prime's ever loyal sidekick. All his mechanics understanding was taught instead of innate talent, and as a Freedom Fighter, he was usually okay enough to look out for himself, but he was nothing special.

He did, however, look up to Sonic.

Scourge had never taken Miles in like most Sonics did to their Tails', he'd more just picked him up off the street to recruit into his gang, but he knew damn well Miles learned how to lie, manipulate, and betray from him. Prime Tails took after Prime Sonic more obviously, sickeningly brave and selfless and nice, always watching Prime's back when he needed it.

One way or another, for one reason or another, in every dimension there was always a little two tailed fox taking after a speedy older hedgehog.

So the lack of natural born genius or natural born fighting skills didn't matter when Tails raised his head. And when their gazes met and Tails' eyes sparked with challenge, Scourge only had a split second to remember this Tails looked up to the rudest, cockiest, most dickish and cunning Sonic in the multiverse.

"Gotta get me first," Tails said, and launched his invention right at Scourge's face.

It was an impressively hard throw, so the plastic ball pummeling Scourge straight in the face already had enough force to actually make him stagger back, but then multicolored dust puffed up the second the ball made contact with his face and immediately obscured his vision. Scourge cursed, but that just made it get in his mouth, and he had to squeeze his eyes shut to stop any more of it from getting in his eyes and making them sting even worse.

Swiping at the air to clear it, Scourge coughed and spat on the floor to get the dust out of his mouth - Tekno was gonna kill him for that, like he gave a shit - blinking his stinging, watering eyes to clear them. Whatever the dust was, it probably wasn't dangerous or Tails wouldn't have thrown it at his face, but damn if it didn't sting like a bitch.

By the time Scourge regained his bearings, Tails had already vanished, probably not to bed, and Scourge's jacket - and presumably his face - was covered in the dust.

Oh, that little fuck was in for it when Scourge got his hands on him.

Scourge charged out of the lab after Tails, just managing to glimpse those tails disappear into the kitchen, and grinned a wild, unfriendly grin as he skidded in after him.

"Come on, kid," he laughed, "you can't expect to outrun the fastest hedgehog in the-"

He stopped.

Tails was hovering in the air, the kettle held above his head threateningly, and something about that set of alarm bells in Scourge's head.

"You don't honestly think you'll manage to hit me with that, do you?" Scourge said, even as his stomach started sinking. "You know I can dodge that and bring you down before you can even blink."

"I know," Tails said, holding the kettle even higher. "But I don't need to aim for you. I just need to aim for the floor."

"Yeah? And what's throwing a tantrum and breaking shit gonna do for ya?"

Tails' stare was almost unnerving. Almost. Hard to be unnerved by a dorky little fox who still had his baby fluff, but the kid was giving a good effort.

"If Sonic comes back to find a broken kettle," he said slowly, "he's gonna blame one of us two since Amy and Tekno are out all night. And who do you think he'll believe? The kid he thinks can barely hurt a badnik, or the reckless hedgehog who isn't allowed near the kettle and is petty enough to have a destructive vendetta against it because of that?" He gave Scourge a cheeky, not quite cunning but certainly getting there, smile. "Of course, if you stop chasing me and I can just have ten more minutes to finish what I was doing, that doesn't have to happen."

Oh shit, Tails had spent too much time with both of them.

"Oh please, you're shit at lying," Scourge scoffed, although he kept a careful eye on the kettle. "Sonic's way too smart to fall for something like that. One look at what you did to my face and he'll know."

"You really want to tell him I managed to hit you in the face by surprise?"

"... One look at what you did to my jacket and he'll know."

"No he won't. Sonic never pays attention to my inventions, he won't even know what it is. So he won't know it came from me."

"I can tell him, and Tekno can back me up. Face it, kid, you break that kettle, there's no way the blame won't fall on you."

"Yeah? Wanna test it?"

"Breaking the thing is gonna backfire more on you than it will me," Scourge hurried to argue before Tails could follow through with his test threat. "You're the one who goes without tea and hot chocolate if you break it, not me, since you're too fucking cowardly to just use the damn microwave."

"It doesn't taste right if you use a microwave," Tails protested, scowling and hovering a little closer to the floor. Still not quite in reach, but closer.

"It tastes exactly the damn same and you know it, you're just copying what Sonic says."

"No I'm not!"

"Yeah you are."

"Am not!" Tails puffed out his cheeks. "Besides, we can just boil the water on the hob until we get a new one."

"Stove," Scourge corrected absently, subtly shuffling closer as Tails hovered even lower. "It takes too long and you know it. You'd all hate it."

Just a bit more, a bit more, a little bit more...

"Yeah, well-"

Quick as a flash Scourge threw himself at Tails and snatched the kettle right out of his hand, placing it safely back on the counter with a smug grin.

He had no idea if Sonic would blame him or Tails for the breaking of the kettle, but he wasn't about to risk it. Just in case.

"Ha! Try hiding behind the kettle now you little-"

But Tails was already gone, fleeing towards the living room. Cursing his whole entire life and Sonic specifically, Scourge gave chase.

He barely stepped into the living room before Tails was throwing the couch cushions at him in an attempt to keep him away, but this time Scourge was ready for war. He snatched one of the cushions out of the air and used it to bat away the rest of the improvised weapons flying at his poor, abused face.

The assault lasted for maybe fifteen more seconds before Tails began to run out of cushions to throw, and in his panic to find more ammo, there was a falter in his pattern Scourge immediately took advantage of to tackle him to the ground.

Tails gasped and squirmed, but he wasn't strong enough to break Scourge's grip, so his futile struggle didn't last very long before he gave up and slumped into the ground in defeat.

"That's what I thought," Scourge said triumphantly, making sure to smear some of the dust on his jacket onto Tails' face in retaliation for earlier. "You can't beat me, kid."

"Not yet," Tails mumbled into the carpet.

Well, at least the kid had ambitions.

Scourge didn't give Tails any more choice in the matter. He hauled Tails over his shoulder and sped to his room so the brat wouldn't get any last second escape attempt ideas, then dumped him in his bed.

With a sigh of someone who knew he'd been beaten for at least another day, Tails reluctantly settled under the blankets and mumbled, "G'night, Scourge."

"Save that mushy shit for Sonic," Scourge snorted, flicking off the light and closing Tails' door behind him as he stepped out into the hallway.

Ugh, kids. Sonic couldn't come home fast enough.

Scourge shrugged off his jacket and dumped it in his laundry basket to deal with later, pulling a face the whole time, then stepped into the bathroom. He studied himself in the mirror, squinting at the amount of dust on him. His poor jacket caught most of the attack, so only his arms and face remained covered in dust. His torso had a little sprinkled on, but not enough for him to give a shit just yet.

It would probably be easier to just have a shower to wash all the dust off, but honestly, Scourge couldn't be assed. Rinse off in the sink it was, then. He'd shower properly in the morning.

Should he clean up the lab before he went to bed or in the morning?

Ah, fuck it, neither. Tekno could do that. It was her fault for leaving Tails unsupervised in the lab anyway.

Scourge got to work scrubbing the dust from his fur, first his arms, then his face. He managed to get half his face clean before the door downstairs opened and Sonic appeared behind him in a breeze.

Scourge blinked at Sonic's reflection. Sonic's reflection blinked back.

"Didn't expect you back today," Scourge said, turning to face Sonic properly.

"I'm the fastest thing alive, why didn't you expect me back early?" Sonic squinted at his face. "Why do you have the dust from Tails' latest invention on your face?"

"And here he thought you wouldn't even notice him building it," Scourge snorted, turning back to the sink to continue scrubbing his face.

"Of course I noticed. Nerd's been going on and on about making something to obscure badniks' vision so we can have an edge in battle for months now, I couldn't miss it if I tried."

Scourge hadn't bothered to fight his smiles around Sonic for months now, and he didn't try this time, either.

That, that right there, that was one of the reasons he loved him. One of the things that blindsided him early on. Sonic paid attention even when it didn't feel like it.

"Kid's been working on it all day," he said. "Dunno when it'll be ready now the brat's gone and tested it before he meant to, but considering this-" he gestured to his face- "it looks promising."

Sonic was quiet for a moment, then said, "He threw it at you, didn't he?"

"No! Fucker just blew up in the lab-"

"Bullshit. You called him a brat, he totally threw it at you."

Scourge scowled, scrubbing vigorously at his face. He didn't need to see Sonic to know he had that stupid, proud smirk on his face. "Shut up. You're a bad influence on that kid."

"And here I thought my bad influence on people was one of the things you love about me."

"Not when it inconveniences me."

"Don't be such a baby."

"Easy for you to say, you didn't have to deal with it."

"It wouldn't take me that much effort to 'deal with it.'" Sonic leaned against the sink, inspecting Scourge's stained face with a playful smirk. "I can't believe you couldn't dodge something thrown at you by Tails."

"Shut up," Scourge mumbled. "He's learned it from you."

"Fucking finally, he's picking something up." Sonic laughed softly. His laugh was naturally harsh, inherently mocking, perfect for rubbing people up the wrong way even when that wasn't why he was laughing in the first place. Scourge loved it. "Hurry up and finish washing your face, I'm not kissing you while you're all dusty."

"Aww, have you missed kissing me? That's embarrassing," Scourge teased, although he did scrub his face a little faster to get the dust off quicker.

"Don't act like you haven't missed it too, dickhead."

"Nah, I don't need you at all," Scourge said, inspecting his face in the mirror to make sure the last of the dust was gone. There was a small bruise forming on his muzzle, just under his mouth and to the left, from where the plastic ball had smacked him in the face.

"Sure, whatever you say." Right on cue Sonic planted a soft kiss on the bruise. "Cheers for keeping him out of trouble, glad to see I can leave him and come back to see him in one piece.

Translation: thank you for watching him for me, I'm glad I can trust you with him. I love you.

"Don't ever ask me to do it again," Scourge said, slipping his hand into Sonic's. "I didn't sign up for babysitting duties when I agreed to date you. If you make me do it again, I ain't promising it'll end as well as this did."

Translation: I'll do it, but only for you, because he matters to you. I love you, too.

"Fine. But then you don't get to whinge about me being the 'bad influence' on him."

"You want me to be a bad influence on him, too? I'm honored."

"You already are."

It was true. That trick about framing him for the broken kettle had Scourge the Hedgehog written all over it. It was hard to believe he'd become such a big part of the Freedom Fighters lives he was having influence on them.

Still. Scourge didn't hate it. It felt... kinda good, actually. To know he was important enough to influence people, influence Tails, and be trusted enough for Sonic to let it happen.

He still wasn't gonna be taking on any more babysitting responsibilities, though.

... At least, not without a fight, even if it was for show.