#I'll loop back on this fic one day this chapter is really almost finished

[charmwasjess]

It was a tough choice between Vampire, time travel and Twelve 4, but I'm too curious to see if Sifo will spill the soup over Yan's grand padawans head (that would be a shame) or if the meeting will be somewhat civilized. So Twelve 4 please?

Hah, it's 50/50 so far. This is of course, the long overdue next chapter of Twelve Months to Murder Count Dooku, which involves Dooku abdicating and running off with Sifo-Dyas, trying to start an actual life together, except they're... well, you know, both idiots who don't know how to exactly live as normal people. Then Obi-Wan shows up! --

“You knew my Master?” 

“Of course I did.” Sifo-Dyas let a thin smile cross his lips. “I taught Qui-Gon how to cook.”

Obi-Wan laughed abruptly, surprised. A nice sound. “Well, he wasn’t very good at it.”

“He gets that from his Master, not from me.” Sifo-Dyas found himself laughing back before he caught his own mistake in wording, the wrong tense. The blood welling to the surface of a cut. It was so hard to keep the past tense in mind when it came to the matter of Qui-Gon Jinn. 

“The two of you are… together?” Obi-Wan tilted his head slightly in the direction of the single bedroom, as if inquiring, but his tone made it clear it wasn’t exactly a question, that he had drawn his own conclusions. 

“Yes,” The word felt good in Sifo-Dyas’s mouth, like a perfect bite of something wonderful. 

“From back in Temple days, or when he became Count…?”

Sifo-Dyas took his attention from his soup to regard Obi-Wan, crossing his arms over his chest. “That’s a bit of a personal question, isn’t it?” 

“One of my tasks,” Obi-Wan predictably flushed. “This decision makes you a part of the Lost Twenty. I’ve been asked to gather data on the contextual circumstances of your leaving the Order and…” 

“...and does the Council wish to know which one of us goes on top, as well?” He met Obi-Wan's eyes levelly. “In fact, our partnership is equal in everything."

Obi-Wan’s slight blush turned crimson. 

Far from the satisfaction he’d expected, now Sifo-Dyas felt cruel for tormenting this earnest young Knight who had lost so much, who had washed up here on his doorstep on such a swell of confusion and grief. 

“Look, I… just… sit down, alright?” Sifo-Dyas softened his tone with effort, sighing. “I’ll pour us some tea and we can talk properly. You were Qui-Gon’s, and Qui-Gon was Dooku’s. That makes the two of us a kind of… family. We should know each other.”

[skypied]

AO3 Wrapped Questions!

3, 5, 6, 7, 10, 11, 16, 20, 27, 28, 29, 30 :)

I'm guessing wrapped implies "works from this year" so I'm only going off those! Buckle uuuuup this is getting looooong like always

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Hmmm, maybe Back Home. Most of my fics this year feel like mindless brain dumps, but this feels more like a complete work.

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

Probably hard feelings? It generally has a lot less hits and kudos than most my other work, probably because of it being angst without a happy ending (YET), but through the months it's gotten a lot of very sweet and heartfelt and/or heartbreaking comments.

Back Home also got a lot more feedback than expected - it was one of those venting fics that I didn't really expect to resonate and/or not be enjoyed by anyone else but me.

6. Favorite title you used

Hmmmmmmmm , I don't really think any of my titles this year stand out :p Maybe Catch of the Day, just bc it's so stupid.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

Most my titles from this year weren't song titles actually! Surprising, since I used to exclusively use song lyrics. There's only hard feelings (Lorde) and Can't Help It, I'm Obsessed (Sam Riggs).

(In 2021 we had Orla Gartland, Lizzo, Troye Sivan, Taylor Swift, Halsey and Maria Mena. Taylor and Maria were used twice: so they win. I think Maria would win overall for how many times her lyrics have been direct inspiration.)

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Probably a tie between the first chapter of hard feelings (started at like 10 in the morning when I was supposed to work, lol) - and Home (written while perched on the kitchen counter watching onions caramellize for onion soup). Both were around four hours, maybe one or two more for revisions.

Wait, actually, both chapters of Catch of the Day were mostly written in an hour or two each.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

Depends on whether you count hours spent on it, or stretch of time it took to finish it haha.

I do have wips I started last summer. Most of them are probably never gonna be anything. But I do have a wip that's almost done and I still intend to finish that I began... 14 months ago. oops.

But among published work - the ones that took the longest stretch of time is probably undertow and chapter two of hard feelings. According to docs, I began undertow on Christmas Eve last year (damn, didn't I have anything better to do?), so it tooooook... almost nine months? It's also kind of a mashup between three aimless wips that I eventually figured out went well enough to just patch together. hard feelings part two took seven months.

Most hours spent on it is harder to gauge, but maybe Can't Help It, I'm Obsessed. I remember I spent most my free time on it for maybe two-three weeks. (And then Annie kindly and graciously and perfectly finished it for me, thank god; I'd gotten myself in a real rut with it.)

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Oh I dunno. Most are generic things like genre, established relationship and aged-up characters. The only one that sticks out is probably Alberto Scorfano has ADHD.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

Prrrroooobably Trust Fall! I think it's just sweet and neat.

27. What do you listen to while writing?

That goes in cycles. Sometimes a playlist with classical music mixed in with movie soundtracks. Sometimes just whatever album I'm hooked on at the moment. I have some specific music for specific things, most are one song I'll loop for hours:

Downtown (feat Pri Pach) by BYOR, VINNE, Pri Pach. It's SO good for hyperfixating and writing smut 2am on a weekday. (Been a while since I did that, though.) There’s a reason it was my #1 on Spotify Wrapped last year, and #2 this year.

IDFC (feat. Ravenna Golden) by WHIPPED CREAM, Perto, Ravenna Golden. Same as Downtown. It tingles my brain.

River by Bishop Briggs. Great for emotionally charged and angsty smut.

I've spent HOOOOOURS listening to just 22:12 Until The End of Time from the Haven soundtrack while writing, no specific genre.

I generally listen a lot to Kevin Atwater to get into those Sad Boy Feelings (especially when writing about Alberto being too brainwashed by Christianity to admit his feelings for Luca. God I still love that AU, shame it's never getting finished.)

Lately I've been rewatching TV shows while writing, just to have something moving on the screen and something to listen to.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Hmm hmm hmmmmm, feel like I'm repeating myself here but Back Home and hard feelings. Both feel like is the first complete stories I wrote. Most my stuff is just scenes, this was the first that spanned over a longer time and connected themes together.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Ahhh idk if I have the patience to reread all 50k I published this year, so I'm taking a couple that come to mind:

It’s stupid and predictable and sometimes Luca wonders when they’ll tire of this, when the intensity of the teenage crush will fade into something more mature, as his mother used to sigh when they were chasing each other’s tails around the bay. It’s been years, and he’s starting to suspect this is just what they’re like, perpetually snickering like kids breaking curfew, whispering secrets in a blanket fort and constantly one-upping each other. 

from Morning Routines. The whole fic is stupid, silly fun, but I feel like this passage sums up their relationship in a cute way.

You know him like the back of your hand, but he’s scarily good at slipping under your skin to hide. You convince yourself otherwise, but you can never really tell. Not really. But it’s yet another trust you have to fall into, accept the rush of gravity and hope he catches you. 

Trust Fall, chapter one

He looks at you, breathless and disbelieving. Disbelieving your love for him. When it’s the only thing you truly believe in, when nothing in this chaotic world makes sense without him, when it’s the seam keeping your life stitched together.  

You wish he could reach inside your chest, clench your heart tight and feel that it’s more his than your own. You wish you could put your mouth to his ear like a conch shell, and he’d hear the ceaseless waves that lap in the back of your mind whispering his name. You wish he could feel the magnetic pull from somewhere deep in your guts that makes you unable to stop orbiting him. 

You don’t dare imagine what would happen if he stopped letting you love him. 

Trust fall, chapter two

Both of these from Trust Fall are some of the rare instances that I feel like I’ve written analogies that feel complete and make sense for them and the work itself. 

You stare up like you used to, towards the incomprehensible lights of celestial bodies dancing on the surface, towards the never-ending fantasies of freedom forever pulling you towards the next horizon. Except now there is an anchor wrapped up in your tail, with a low, humming purr filling your body and quieting the restless whisper in the undercurrent of your blood and gentle claws tracing patterns over your ribs, all brazen ferociousness gone for listless limbs and a sleepy murmur whenever you shift.

There’s still a pull, a need to see, try, explore more. But maybe you don’t need to leave everything behind to feel free. 

from undertow. I feel like this is the closest I’ll come to writing something about Luca’s “teenage rebellion” need for freedom that might lead him to neglect friendships/relationships for fear of being smothered again, and becoming comfortable with intimacy and vulnerability and being tied down.

Also this line:

You don’t want him to be in love with you unless it hurts.

This whole thing from ch2 of Back Home:

“Do you still love me?” you ask again, but now your breath is slow and calm because you know the answer. But you have to ask. Just in case. 

You know the answer because he’s ripped your heart out and sown it back together; replaced old, festering scabs with gossamer threads of promises and gently placed it back inside. It’s still a fragile, ugly patchwork, but he’ll keep replacing bits and pieces of old hurt with new hope until it’s whole. You know it because he has scratch marks and bruises down his back and neck colored by your love and rage, because he lets you ruin him to save yourself.

You know it because you believe him more than you believe yourself.

“More than anything,” he says in a firm voice, as if it’s a fact as natural and definite as the sun rising and setting. He picks the smoldering stardust off the floor, breathes life back into the stars and places them back into your eyes. He smothers the flaming rage in your veins and replaces your blood with love. Because he loves you. You love him too. You love him more than anything and it hurts more than anything. But it’s worth it for the blissful, warm silence when he looks at you and you know he’s seen everything inside you and still he wants to. He makes your heart into a home and you let him. No matter how many times you tear it down in all-consuming fits of rage, he puts it back in order and you let him. He wants to make you better and you want to let him.

yayyy I love breaking Alberto and putting him back together again<3

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

Maybe how drastic the shift from only writing smut to never writing smut was? haha. Dgmw, I still write smut, but I just... don't finish it. Idk, it always ends up pushing up against things I'm uncomfortable with, or I write myself into corners. I feel like they're always things that aren't really a big deal, but they turn into massive hurdles in my head. And while writing smut is fun, I eventually end up feeling like I'm just writing the same things over and over. Which, y'know, is still fun and doesn't mean it's not valuable! I guess I just get really self-conscious over baring my ass on the internet.

On a more positive note, I think I've managed to keep a bit more distance to my writing. I do often get stuck with writing, and that frustration used to encompass everything and be... not great for me mentally. I used to obsess a lot more about feedback and get really bummed out about "underperforming" works and compare myself a lot to others. Now it's more like... I just chuck stuff I think is neat up on AO3 and don't think much more of it.

I’ve also experimented a lot more with style than I expected, and I guess found my voice a bit more!

ALSO how much Luca POV I’ve written. I still feel like I don’t understand the guy, but he’s fun to write. Alberto POV tends to become ... dark, lol.

[rafaelblackbird15]

Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 2: Steter

It took me quite awhile to gather all these together, so please enjoy discovering more parts to the incredible world of Teen Wolf, provided to you by the wonderful writers of our fandom.

Leave comments and kudos for these writers if you can, they really deserve it, they're wonderful. And it's my honour to try and share their creations with tumblr.

These are Steter, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale fanfictions. Read them at your will. Check the tags on the actual fics for warnings and such.

I have included links to authors that write a lot of Steter as well, and some of their fics for examples. I'm sorry this post got so long, haha, but enjoy the stories, they're worth it.

If any of the links don't work, just comment and I'll fix it.

Check out my other Sterek fic recs [Part 3] and [Part 4] and Steter fic recs [Part 1]

*********

Broken Bones and Broken Bonds by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 20148

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles kind of wished that he’d at least tried weed before this. 

Or something, you know? Maybe taken up a graffiti hobby, or even just skateboarded in front of City Hall often enough to get a citation. 

He wished he’d done something to be deserving of the looks people gave him now, rather than just being the recipient of his dead father’s unused power. 

**********

Stigmata by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1661

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He feels so hollow that he almost wonders if he's been turned inside out. This emptiness he feels; is it the vastness of the entire world?

How do you fill a world? With people, he supposes. But his people no longer want him.

He needs people.

*********

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 14565

Chapters: 7/7

Summary:

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

"Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them."

What the f—

**********

Steter Week 2019 by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Works: 4

Complete: No

Summary:

There isn't a summary listed so I've included the first fic underneath:

Marvelous Miss and Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Words: 3346

Chapters: 1/1

also Part 1 of the Magnificent Mischief series

Summary:

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

********

Author: twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

This author has a lot of wonderful Steter fics, and their writing of the pairing is really worth having a good look through.

*******

Blood Runs Cold by Smalls2233 on Archive of Our Own

Words: 111408

Chapters: 22/22

Summary:

“So then why are we letting Scott and Derek search for it if you know it's useless?”

Peter looked down at Stiles and cocked his head with a grin. “Because I think seeing my nephew and your best friend run around like headless chickens while I think up a plan is hysterical.”

“And the plan is…?”

----

Trusting Peter Hale is something that Stiles had repeatedly told himself to never do. He had seen first hand the results of Peter's plans and schemes, but when a shadow began tormenting Beacon Hills, he found that sometimes he'd have to to play along with Peter's games.

This story does include a dose of Chris&Stiles interaction about midway and carries on throughout, and then Chris/Peter towards the midend, which also carries on. And it kind of dissolves into Chris/Peter/Stiles. If that's not your taste, that's fine, because the majority of the story is Stiles/Peter, and that majority is really really good Steter.

**********

No One Listening Tonight by Smalls2233

Words: 6985

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That left… well it left Peter and only Peter. Relying on Peter for help was only slightly better than stabbing himself through the eye with a hot poker. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Of course, there was always the option of packing up and letting whatever was trying to destroy the town succeed this time. Stiles snorted under his breath as he thought about how that would probably leave him with fewer injuries than dealing with Peter would. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Stiles knew he needed to head downtown to Peter’s apartment and pray the man was willing to work with him.

----

Stiles stumbles into a magical trap forged by a wannabe warlock.

*********

Author: Smalls2233

*********

Blue by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3179

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

*********

The Long Way Around by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 15569

Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

When Peter leaves Beacon Hills for good, he expects that to be it for the broken bonds of the last remaining members of the Hale pack. Fate and Stiles Stilinski aren’t of the same opinion.

**********

Prowl by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3454

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Laura's body is never found, but instead of continuing with his murder spree, Peter gets distracted by the scent of his mate. Stiles gets very distracted by the huge wolf that starts showing up at his house all the time.

**********

Author: Wynnebat

This author writes some really interesting, deep stories about Steter that are really beautiful.

**********

your last white lie (everything is not alright) by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4023

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles says yes, and things go downhill from there.

**********

reflect by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 569

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

(previously posted to tumblr)

When he dreams, he can sometimes still hear his mother’s voice, explaining it to him: Reflections are the price we pay for what we are.

*********

sentire by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1027

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

[to feel]

Stiles hears the whisper of death before it strikes.

**********

Author:

snowdarkred

This author writes some really intense, interesting stories about Peter and Stiles. Not as long as some fics are, but they're really good adaptions of Steter with a lot of feeling.

**********

The Striking Complication by aurevell on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27235

Chapters: 4/15

Summary:

The smile slips off Stiles’s face. “Hey, um. Why am I here?” he asks, voice unsteady. “I’m—I have this weird feeling like I shouldn’t leave you. I’ve felt all day like...” He can’t finish the thought.

Peter looks as surprised as Stiles feels. A strange expression passes over his face, there and gone before Stiles can decipher it.

Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move.

Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

*******

Author: aurevell

This author has 11 Teen Wolf fics under their belt. 5 Sterek and 6 Steter. Happy rummaging!

**********

the teeth right down to the blood by sazzafraz on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2133

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

‘We’re pretty fucked right now.’ Scott says. Stiles doesn’t speak but there’s something singing in his bones that says Scott got the message anyway. (In which both are bit and things are gruesome.)

This has a sprinkling of Scott/Stiles, Scott/Stiles/Peter, and Scott/Allison as well as Steter, but it's worth the read, a good story with an interesting concept.

*********

Author: sazzafraz

This author doesn't have that many Steter stories, although they do have a few. Although they do have some pretty lengthy Teen Wolf fics about other characters of the show.

***********

Everything goes (wow) by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8215

Chapters: 5/5

Part 1 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

It was supposed to go like this:

1. Peter summons demon to the circle.

2. Demon remains in said circle until Peter outlines their contract.

3. Demon agrees to elegantly crafted contract, becoming loyally bound to Peter and Peter alone.

Instead, the creature steps casually out of the circle, tosses its things onto the leather sofa, and starts immediately meddling in Peter’s immaculate space, touching all of Peter’s very expensive things.

*********

It's only by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2905

Chapters: 3/5

Part 2 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

“Darling, please don’t pout.”

“You’re pouting.” Stiles pouts, from the upper corner of the library, everything from his hip bones down an angry mass of hissing fangs and venomous chelicerae. “Why would we ever go back to that garbage town? Everyone there is the worst, the only good thing is the very rad and awesome curse I laid.”

*********

You are a memory by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 900

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the Little glimpse series

Summary:

If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

********

Author: midmorning_bomb

This author has 16 Steter fics. A little unfriendly to some of the other characters, but it's only kind of obvious because it's not subtle about it, and not exactly underserved. Has some really interesting ideas as well as some kind, well developed Steter. Definitely have a read through.

***********

[corancoranthemagicalman]

Coran! 💜💜💜 for the fanfic writer ask game

Also sorry these arent in order

⏳ 🎶 🛒 👀

Liv!! 💙💙

⏳ : How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

It really depends, genuinely! On one hand, I wrote, edited, and published a 6k fic in two days. On that same hand, I wrote 30k words approx. in like, five days? But that was on a piece that I was just writing for me to get the creative juices flowing so I wasn't worried about word choices as much as getting scenes down. And that was during Christmas break.

But on the other hand, my current WIP which is almost at 30k has taken me all month between trying to find the time to write, editing, and research. Lots and lots of research on this one that isn't even making it into the final piece. Haha!

So I'll say, on average, if I'm free of time, I could easily write probably 10k in two days? Eh?

🎶 : Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

Yes!! All the time!! It's crucial to my process. Like, that same WIP I was telling you about. Lately I haven't been able to listen to my music while writing which is why this last leg of the fic is taking forever to write!

I either have custom playlists for whatever ship I'm writing for, or I have a very generic pining playlist full of my favorites. What's looping definitely depends on what I'm writing, but I guess lately Share Your Address by Ben Platt and Don't You Dare (Make Me Fall In Love With You) by Kaden MacKay have really been critical pieces in my playlists.

🛒 : What are some common things you incorporate in your fics? Themes, feels, scenes, imagery, etc.

It depends! I think I definitely overall default to a lot of storm imagery. I.E. Lightning, thunder, clouds over the horizon, etc etc.

But it also is completely dependent on what I'm writing for! For instance, in my WIP at the moment I'm using a surprising amount of dancing metaphors? But I think dancing metaphors are integral to my interpretation of those characters, so I think if I write for this ship more often I will probably come back to them.

That being said, now that I'm thinking about it, I think I'm just drawn to ships where the storm metaphor works.... Gentlebeard... Destiel... Hell, even in my VLD days I did it. Damn. Did I use storms for GOmens writing too?

Also for something other than a theme/imagery, I typically love writing First Kisses even if I never tag them? As such? I love that. But surprisingly I've really stepped outside of that with some of my later Supernatural works and definitely within OFMD. My "Getting Together" OFMD fic they DIDN'T EVEN KISS. THEY DIDN'T EVEN KISS. 2018!Coran would shake in FEAR at the animal I have become.

👀 : Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I've kind of done that already??? Whoops??

Okay, so here's the thing:

I'm supposed to be finishing the third installment of Bang Bang! And it's coming along, I promise!!! But I was having issues with some of the transitional parts. It just wasn't flowing, and I needed a brain break so I could come back with fresh eyes.

So I started the aforementioned and thus far unnamed WIP.

(It's a Bagginshield fic. Whoops. I'm so sorry loyal followers. I am trash.)

And it was just supposed to be a break!! Just a 6k at the max joke-centric fic!! To make me laugh and to post and then to go back to what I actually was trying to work on this month! [The third installment of Bang Bang! plus another WIP I have yet to mention (͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)] But then it quickly devolved evolved into... a 30k beast of pining and cultural discussion and guilt and love.

I cannot wait until it's done. So I can be free from it. I've loved writing it but at what cost.

Since it's you my dear Liv. If you want a snippet of the WIP, just send me another eye emoji with a number, and I'll send you a line off the corresponding page number. For reference, there's 64 pages so like go off on number picking. But I don't even know if you like Bagginshield, so I won't subject you to it anymore than I've already subjected you to my rambling, haha!

Thanks for the ask, dear! This was fun!

Emoji FanFic Writer Ask Game !!

[silverwings22]

Let Me Go: Prologue

Trying my hand at Tumblr fanfiction! I absolutely ADORE The Mandalorian, and Din Djarin especially. I hope anyone who reads this enjoys, and I'll be updating as I edit the draft I have.

This is canon-compliant (for the most part) and following the show as we eagerly await season 3.

This fic will be mature, so please if you're under 18 click away.

It will also be featured on my AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/31770277/chapters/78641761

Series Warnings: SMUT, reference to character deaths, canon-typical violence, some dom/sub aspects if you squint, Force ghosts, adult language, Order 66, PTSD, reference to child abuse and childhood trauma, and possible misunderstandings on the writers part of how the Force works.

Chapter Warnings: Reference to severe injury, Force ghosts, childhood trauma, adult language, mentions of past sex (no description)

Next chapter: https://silverwings22.tumblr.com/post/653223455177818112/let-me-go-chapter-1

Title is based on the 3 Doors Down song "Let Me Go" and every chapter is titled with a lyric from the song.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Prologue: One More Kiss Could Be the Best Thing

Starting over was easy.

Clumpy black goop dripped on the gray durasteel sink inside a tiny closet sized ‘fresher, the young woman inside rubbing it onto her head with gloved hands and carefully dabbing it onto her eyebrows in neat lines. Her eyes were a cool gray blue, staring into the mirror to make sure she got every bit of her short hair with the dye she worked through. The pale platinum blonde at the roots vanished, and as she worked it to the tips the faded grayish undertone darked to jet.

Once she was satisfied with her hair she wrapped it in a sheet of thin duraplastoid to keep it from dripping. She was too practiced at this by now to let the tell-tale gray marks on her skin give her away. She wiped down her hairline and ears, then stepped out into her tiny little apartment to carry on with her day. The apartment was cheap, a single room with a fresher and kitchenette attached. She’d gotten lucky, it was above a little storefront she’d managed to buy to keep herself afloat by growing and selling medicinal plants and salves made from them. She was off work for the afternoon, there was no reason to rush or see anyone, and she needed to do laundry and clean up. The grocery list needed finishing too, and she could go to the market once her hair was done.

She had been in Nevarro since just after the fall of the Empire. It was the longest she’d ever stayed in one place since she was a child, she’d actually started to know people and be recognized around town. She wouldn’t exactly call anyone friends, but it was familiar and solid as the volcanic earth beneath her feet. Almost like putting down roots... It felt odd to have those again, even if the people she interacted with didn’t know the truth from the lie. That was the beauty of the aftermath of war, though. Everything was displaced, with lives so easily wrecked there was no one to say she wasn’t exactly who she claimed to be. More importantly, there was always a handy unspoken reason to not want to talk about the past.

Speaking of which….

“How long are you going to stay here? You have obligations.” A man was standing in the corner of her apartment, in a creme colored tabard and a brown robe. He had ginger hair and a neat beard, and was faintly transparent. And not so faintly grouchy, the irritation bleeding through his cultured Coruscanti accent.

“As long as I want. Forever sounds good.” She stretched lazily out on her battered couch, curling expertly to avoid the broken spring that always wanted to dig itself into her left hip. She still had a sizeable bruise there from falling asleep on the couch a few days before, instead of going to her equally battered but less uncomfortable bed after a long day drying jorgan fruits to sweeten her medicinal teas.

“Zenaria…” He huffed. “You should have long since returned to-”

“I will rot before I go back there.'' She cut him off. “And don’t you dare think you can pull him in here to guilt me. Do you know how long it took me to stop panicking last time? I lost three days of work.” She rolled up the edge of the shorts she was wearing around the house, eying the fading circle of purple and yellow on her hip and trying to ignore her spectral guest. Her pale skin marked up so easily with the least little pressure, scars lingered for years in bright pink before they finally faded to silvery white. Her arms were more scarred than her legs from years in heavy duraweave pants and boots, and the constant exposure to some kind of danger or another.

“I’m sorry, it was never my intention to frighten you my darling.” He murmured. “I thought you needed to... Talk.”

“I don’t mind the fact that you’re haunting me, if a little confused as to why you’re bothering to waste your afterlife on my banthashit. But I never want to see him again. Not even dead. Not redeemed or whatever happened.” she said sourly, looking away from him to disguise a panicked expression with petulance. “I don’t owe him my forgiveness. I don’t owe him shit.” Her teeth gritted. “And I can’t pay you what I owe you so I don’t understand why you don’t go somewhere you’re treated nicer.”

“Dear one, aren’t you tired of running from your destiny?” his voice was so kind, actually considered for a moment the enormity of what he was asking her. Sometimes she was tired of running… but she was more tired of failing every time she tried to be anything more than mediocre.

Zena sighed, tugging up her loose shirt a little more. A round, still pinkish scar sat between her navel and sternum, about as big around as her looped index and thumb could circle. “Would you look at that? It’s still here… so nope.”

The ghostly face looked sad, and walked over to her. Well, he made the motion of walking, but he sort of glided like a holo recording until he was in front of her. “I’m so sorry, my dear girl.” She closed her eyes, feeling a cool tingling on her forehead when the spirit pressed a kiss to it. “I’ll be back to check on you soon… there’s so much you’re capable of, when you’re ready. And I’ll be here until you are.” He faded away as she opened her eyes, leaving her deflating on the couch with her hand over the ugly scar on her middle.

She looked down and eyed it again. It was a horrible reminder, but she doubted anyone she decided to let see her body would really notice; her experience with most men told her they rarely looked anywhere but the chest and apex of her thighs. Not that her sex life hadn’t been one long dry spell for the last few years… noone got laid when being haunted by a father figure. The very air turned to parental disapproval and even those who weren’t Force sensitive still noted something was off.

Pity about it, too. She’d always thought she had a nice face. Not exactly vanity, but she could admit it was symmetrical and soft featured, with expressive eyes. She kept her hair short, never longer than her shoulders, so as not to bring too much attention to it, though she couldn’t help but play around with scraps of fabric until she’d made false flowers to decorate a headband, and wore that almost every day. The bright colors stood out on her midnight black hair that she religiously touched up with dye.

She sighed, stretching herself out again and pulling her shirt down again. She found a million reasons to complain when the ghost was there… but she missed him the second he was gone. Or maybe… she missed when he’d been alive. She missed the closeness they’d shared until she’d fucked everything up. She missed making him proud of her, instead of knowing he was spending his precious afterlife waiting for her to get her shit together. And she was refusing to.

She’d spent all her life running away from what she wished she could hold in her hands one more time.

Yes, starting over was easy. It was the constant fight to destroy who you used to be that was hard.

[theseerasures]

Is it too greedy to say all of them? I'll try to be reasonable. "Ow!" (Chapter 8)

original fic here.

“Ow.”

“Sorry,” Kristoff says, not feeling particularly sorry. He readjusts the piece of his tunic around Elsa’s arm, and gingerly begins to wrap it.

“Don’t do it too tight,” Anna advises, poking her head in his field of view.

“You’re blocking my light,” he tells her, “And I won’t.”

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t have punctuated that so much. Elsa lets out a pained yelp.

“Kristoff!” Anna barks.

“Sorry!” He means it a little more this time. Maybe that had been too tight. He unwinds the bandage, tries again.

“If you wrap it too tight she might lose her pinkie,” Anna says, looming over them again. “Are you sure–”

“I’ve got this!” Kristoff snaps. Is he sure. Like the fact that Anna’s hands had started shaking as soon as Elsa revealed the cavalcade of bruises under her shiny new dress isn’t the only reason he’s doing this.

“I probably won’t lose my pinkie,” Elsa comments inconsequentially.

He ignores her. Ignores them both, so he can concentrate on finishing up with the splint. “There. We should get some ice, keep the swelling down–”

“I think I’ve got it,” Elsa interjects, smiling slightly as she waves her working hand. A magical flurry drifts into a scrap of cloth, forming a compress, before settling on top of the splint.

So that’s another part of his tunic ruined. “Fine,” Kristoff grits out. Great. They’re all just having a fun time here, having to splint up Elsa’s hand because some water horse thought it was a good idea to drag her through the sea by it.

He pretends not to notice the significant look the sisters exchange with each other, opting instead to rummage through the rucksacks. Everything’s fine. The Forest is free now, they can all go home. He even got the stupid words out to ask Anna to marry him, and she even said yes.

He doesn’t know why he’s being a jerk. He doesn’t know where to put the swooping, sick feeling in his chest, except maybe in a bag labeled His Fault. Get her out of here, right? And he had, without even a backward glance, when what he really should’ve done was drag both of them out of the Forest right then, mist or no mist.

“Kristoff?” He hears Elsa ask from behind, “Is everything…okay?”

For some reason the hesitant way she’s talking to him just makes him bristle even more. He doesn’t need to be handled with kid gloves. “Oh, sure,” he says, in a voice so horribly hearty he can barely recognize it as his own, “Why wouldn’t they be? It’s not like any of us got maimed or set on fire or almost squished into paste by rampaging Earth Giants–”

“I’m sorry about what happened with the Earth Giants,” Elsa immediately says, “If I’d been there–”

“Yeah, you could have broken your other hand at them,” Kristoff retorts. “Why don’t you take another crack at them now? I’m sure there’s still at least one square inch of you that isn’t black and blue. Or, hey. Call up your water spirit friend, I’m sure it’s dying for a rematch.”

“They wouldn’t attack again,” Elsa insists, “They were just scared, Kristoff.”

“I’ve been scared before,” Kristoff says, “And I never tried to hurt everyone around me.”

“Hey, Kristoff,” Anna says before Elsa can reply. She’s looking between the two of them with a very anxious smile on her face. “It’s, um. It’s okay to be upset about all the reckless charging into danger stuff. Elsa and I, we already talked about it.”

“Oh, you’ve talked about it,” he says, rounding on her now. He glares at the piece of bandage poking out of the neck of her dress. “That’s just great, Anna. I mean, if you’re handing out tips about not wanting to get yourself killed–”

“No one wanted to get themselves killed,” Elsa interrupts sharply.

He meets her gaze defiantly. That I’m the Queen voice hasn’t worked on him for at least a year now. “Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

Elsa makes a frustrated noise. “I told you already, it was the only way to find the truth and free the forest. I had to–”

“Had to?” His voice breaks. “Elsa, you died! First Anna, now you–what’s gonna happen next? Are you just going to keep trading off?”

Kristoff doesn’t need Anna’s sudden wet gasp, or the abrupt silence that follows, to know that had been too far, too fast.

“I–” He wants to take the words back. No; he wants to go back home, to the trolls, where the most anyone gets hurt is a chipped nose. He wants to grab hold of the two women that make up his family now, and not let go until they promise to never put themselves in a place where they could get this hurt again. He wants to be young enough to not know that this would be an impossible ask, for Anna and Elsa to be less than themselves, for them to give less than absolutely everything to the world.

“I think it’s probably your turn, next,” Elsa says, after the long, horrible pause. Her tone’s light enough, but there’s no mistaking the slight waver in her voice, or the glassy sheen of tears in her eyes.

Kristoff lets out a shuddery sigh, and slumps down against his sled. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” He buries his face into his hands.

Someone sinks very carefully next to him. “It’s okay,” Elsa assures, when the burning in his eyes still hasn’t stopped, “It’s been…it’s been a long day. Right, Anna?”

Another someone on his other side, looping her arm through his. “Yep,” Anna agrees. She’s almost cheerful, even though her voice sounds a little like she’s getting over a head cold. “Super long, super scary.”

When he finally feels brave enough to look up again they’re both smiling at him. Like they’ve forgiven him already. Like he doesn’t have a choice except to be forgiven. “I’m still mad,” he says.

Elsa bumps his shoulder with hers. “That’s probably fair.”

“You owe me a new tunic,” he tells her, “And none of that weird, cheap stuff Oaken’s been trying to sell–real leather or bust.”

“Wait, why?” She rolls her eyes when he looks pointedly at her splint. “Oh, for–don’t I pay you an absurd Ice Harvesting salary for this exact purpose?”

“Personal damages shouldn’t come out of my salary,” he points out. “And technically, Anna pays my salary now, remember?”

“Yeah!” Anna pipes up, “I’m the queen, and I decree that you have to buy Kristoff a super nice outfit.”

Elsa looks over at him first, then Anna. Then she laughs. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Kristoff replies, reaching out for her uninjured hand and grasping it tight. “One hundred percent.”

[starlit-serenade]

Dance With Me | Chapter 5

💙 Summary: After visiting the members of ONEUS during their dance practice, you find yourself inspired to learn to dance. You ask your friend Kim Geonhak to teach you.

💙 Chapter 5: 2,242 words

💙 Pairing: Reader x Kim Geonhak (Leedo) / Characters: GenderNeutral!Reader; Kim Geonhak (Leedo); Son Dongju (Xion); Yeo Hwanwoong (Hwanwoong); Lee Keonhee (Keonhee); Lee Seoho (Seoho); Kim Youngjo (Ravn);

💙 Rated: T for some minor swearing / Warnings: Minor Swearing; Jealousy (Later in the fic) / Genre: Fluff; Minor Angst (Later in the fic); Friends-To-Lovers; Happy Ending;

《 Series Masterlist // ONEUS Masterlist // Boy Group Masterlist 》

You arrive to practice with your mind buzzing. Hwanwoong had texted the Team B party planning group chat that today is the day where you would meet with Team A--Youngjo, Seoho and Keonhee--to finish planning Geonhak's birthday party next week. The meeting is only ten minutes after your practice with Geonhak ends, so you'll have to hurry to the ONEUS dorm after practice.

You open the door, and Geonhak is inside. A song that you don't recognize is playing, and Geonhak is dancing intensely, watching his own movements intensely as he dances this unfamiliar choreo. While the song isn't familiar, you known the voices of ONEUS well enough to guess that this is an upcoming song, or at least a work-in-progress.

Geonhak is so focused on the dance that he doesn't notice that you've walked in. His eyes are so focused on his own body in the mirror that he doesn’t see you enter. You laugh to yourself.

Payback for those times he's come in and watched me dancing without me knowing, you think. You sit down on the ground to stretch silently and watch him, impressed. His voice comes on in the song, and you have to prevent yourself from saying wow out loud. You admire the choreography, the way Geonhak's shoulders move.

Perhaps someday I'll learn this choreography, you think.

The song comes to a close, Geonhak throws his head back in exhaustion. He runs his hand through his hair, breathing heavily as he turns around.

He freezes in his tracks when he sees you sitting on the floor. His eyes widen in surprise, then he looks really shy, then he goes back to his normal self in a matter of seconds. "How long have you been here?"

"A bit. Your part is amazing. Was that the new title track?"

He lets out a chuckle. "Thank you. Yes, that was the new title track, coming out later. Do you like it?"

"I do. It's cool. Your dance is really pretty," you say.

Geonhak looks away from you. "Thanks. Let's finish up stretching, and decide what song you want to try next."

He sits down in front of you and watches you with a smile. His eyes on you make you look down at the floor for some reason. "So what song would you like to learn next? Another ONEUS song?"

You smile. "Of course."

"What songs did you have in mind?"

"I mean. Lit is a fun one. Valkyrie, too. Twilight. Zigzag--"

"You've just named all of our title tracks, Y/Nie!" Geonhak chuckles. "I have an idea. We can go with two songs. We'll spend the first two hours learning the first one, and then the second two learning the second one. How does that sound?"

"That sounds fun."

"Great," Geonhak says, humming. "What two songs would you like to try?"

You think for a long moment. "Can we do Lit?"

Geonhak smiles. "Sure. We'll do Lit first."

"Great!"

"Let's start with the pre-chorus this time," Geonhak says, standing in front of the mirror.

"So you're gonna start with your legs in sort of a front stance, turn all the way to your left and put your arm over your leg with your hand against the outside of your thigh. Like this."

You copy his stance. Arm over leg, facing the left wall. You glance at the mirror and make sure to adjust your knees and position.

"Good. Now, you're gonna twist your body in a loop, lean back, and lower your body to kneel like this with your left arm down--"

You immediately do the move, so you're kneeling like him. This move, you've seen and done so many times that it comes somewhat easier to you. You check the mirror and see that you're correct as he continues to demonstrate.

"--and then straighten your back quickly. Lift your right arm, eolssu, and then your left arm, eolssu."

You follow his demonstration closely, which isn't too hard. This song, you've tried to do in your living room, so while you're not good at it yet, you're certainly familiar with it.

"Good. Now," Geonhak says, "lift your back knee off of the ground. Shift your weight back to face the left side of the room again and now put both of your hands over your thigh in an X. Then lean back, and slide your hands behind your back and down with the beat."

You nod, copying the movements.

After a couple hours of learning the rest of the pre-chorus and the chorus, and after taking a ten minute break, Geonhak starts teaching you Valkyrie, starting with the pre-chorus.

"Face the right wall, and put your hand back like this, palm up. You're going to have your right toes and your left heel facing toward the front of the room and off of the ground, so that your feet are positioned in a V."

You copy him. It takes you a minute to get your feet positioned correctly, but Geonhak waits patiently with a smile on his face.

The end of practice nears, and you and Geonhak sit down to stretch together. You look up from your stretches to smile back at Geonhak, and your eyes land on the clock on the wall behind him.

"Oh, shit," you mutter, quickly getting up from your stretches. You start scooping up your stuff. "I have to go."

"What? So soon?" he asks.

"Yes, Dongju's waiting for me," you say.

"Dongju?"

You blink, realizing what you said wrong.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, I have a, uh, a doctor's appointment, and Dongju's taking me."

"Oh." He looks sad. "Take care! See you soon."

As you reach the door, you frown. "Aren't you going to be heading home?" you ask. Geonhak shakes his head.

"No. I have . . . some extra stuff to do."

"Okay. Bye, Geonhak," you say. He smiles softly and waves goodbye. You wave back, before you run down  the hallway to change in the bathroom, before hurrying to the ONEUS dorm for the birthday party preparation meeting.

You arrive and knock on the door and wait. Dongju opens the door after a moment and smiles.

"Y/N, you're almost late," he whispers.

"I was at practice with Geonhak! I had to change," you explain. Dongju rolls his eyes and drags you inside.

When you had pictured a surprise party meeting, you had imagined that the five members would have set up a space in the bedroom so that it'd be harder for them to be accidentally walked in on by Geonhak. However, they've simply set up at the dining table, Team A on the left and Team B on the right. Youngjo, Seoho and Keonhee are seated on Team A's side, with their phones on the table with notes. Hwanwoong sits on Team B's side with his phone open to the group chat. Dongju sits in the middle chair so you sit on his left, facing Keonhee.

"So," Youngjo says. "We have gathered here today to figure out how we want to celebrate Kim Geonhak's birthday before. We will have opening statements from Team A."

Keonhee opens his phone and clears his throat.

"Our plan for Kim Geonhak's birthday morning includes the following," he says, leaning forward in his chair. "We will spend time at either RBW or the dorm. We'll practice a bit, and then relax."

"Then," Seoho continues, "we will eat lunch at the dorm."

Team B applauds Team A, clapping as Youngjo, Seoho and Keonhee bow before sitting back down.

"That is all Team A has planned," Youngjo says. "We sort of . . . didn't spend as much time on this as you three. Now, Team B, your turn to present your proposal for the afternoon."

Hwanwoong stands up in his chair and clears his throat. "Hello. I am Yeo Hwanwoong of Team B. I am joined, today, by my colleagues Son Dongju and Y/N. Today, we will be presenting our proposal for the afternoon of Kim Geonhak's birthday celebration."

Seoho is laughing in amusement at how seriously Hwanwoong is taking this.

"Our plan includes snacks such as ice cream, sweets, fruits and small meat appetizers," Hwanwoong continues.

"We have multiple afternoon activities planned, including a random play dance, several guess-the-song challenges, and other music and dance related games. We are open for additional suggestions at any time. Then, for dinner, we will go out to that restaurant Geonhak loves so much."

"As for decoration plans," you say, "we propose a silver, gold, black and white color scheme, with streamers and balloons."

Keonhee starts the applause, followed by Seoho, then Youngjo. You, Dongju and Hwanwoong take your seats once again.

"Does anyone have any feedback or questions?" Youngjo asks. Keonhee raises his hand.

"Hwanwoong, what ice cream flavors will there be?" he asks.

"Rainbow Sherbet, Geonhak's favorite," Hwanwoong says. "Don't worry, Keonhee, I know all of ONEUS's favorites. They'll be there."

After questions conclude, you six decide roles for party set-up.

"Dongju, Y/N, can you two be in charge of decorations?" Youngjo asks. You both nod, and Dongju gives Youngjo a thumbs up.

Keonhee ends up in charge of making lunch with Hwanwoong. Seoho is in charge of finding and putting together the activities, and Youngjo ends up in charge of getting snacks. After all of the roles are decided, you all put your hands together.

"1! 2! 3! Let's go!"

As you all start cleaning up, you realize how late it is. The sky is dark, almost black.

"Why hasn't Geonhak come home? Shouldn't he have come sometime during the meeting?" you ask.

"No. He actually has to catch up with some practice choreography," Dongju explains. "He's started staying late for extra practice since he started teaching you."

You blink. "What?"

"Usually, after you head home, Geonhak stays at RBW practicing for hours on the new choreos. Since he spends so much time with you, he has to find extra time to do his own practices. And he also comes in early mornings to prepare for your practices. Has he not told you?"

You shake your head.

Dongju frowns for a bit, confused, before his expression morphs into something like shock or surprise.

"I . . . probably shouldn't have told you that then."

You frown. "What do you mean?"

Dongju waves the question aside. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, you should get some rest. Let me walk you home."

You and Dongju walk home comfortably, like you did with Geonhak a while ago. You think about what Dongju had said. Had Geonhak gone and practiced at RBW after dropping you off at your home? Has he really been coming in extra to catch up with the other members and prepare to help you?

"How's your practice with Geonhak going?" Dongju asks after a while.

"Oh, it's going really well," you say excitedly. "I just finished learning Geonhak's part in A Song Written Easily last practice, so now Geonhak is helping me learn Lit and Valkyrie."

Dongju is smiling widely. "You seem to be enjoying it a lot. Maybe as much as Geonhak is."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

He chuckles. "I know you very well, Y/N. I've known you for years. And I've rarely seen you this excited about something for this long. Often times, when you get excited by a hobby, but then your excitement dies down after a week or two. But it's been several weeks, and you're still smiling like a fool whenever you think about it."

You place your hand on your cheek and realize that they hurt from your smiling so hard and excited chattering about how practice has been.

"Geonhak, on the other hand. You should see him after he comes back to the dorms after practicing with you," Dongju continues. "Or even during our practices before practicing with you. He's always smiling like an idiot on your practice days."

You blink.

"Y/N. How do you feel about Geonhak?" Dongju asks after a moment. You stare at him, unsure of how to answer that question.

"I mean. I like him. He's my friend. He's a good dance teacher. He's kind and sweet and funny, just like the rest of you."

"But do you like him?" Dongju asks, emphasizing the word like.

You frown. "Why would you ask me that?" you ask. You don't have an answer, though. You think back to all of the butterflies that you've had, fluttering about in your stomach for the past few weeks. Maybe you do have an answer.

"Like I said, Y/N. I know you very well. There's definitely something going on in that head of yours, whether you know it or not," he says, poking your head gently. "I've seen you two interact. Just from hearing you talk just now, I can hear that there's something. Even if you don't know it."

You blink. "Dongju, I don't--"

"Oh look, we're here!" He stops, and you realize that you two are, in fact, right outside your door. Dongju smiles at you softly. "Go sleep, Y/N. Get some rest. I'll text you tomorrow to figure out a time to go decoration shopping for Geonhak's birthday, okay?"

You nod. "Okay."

He waves goodbye, and you sigh, watching him leave. As you turn to go inside, you turn over the past few minutes in your head. As you shower and get ready for bed, you continue to consider your feelings.

You don't like Geonhak like that.

Do you?

[artificialqueens]

If You Ever Wanna Be in Love (I'll Come Around), Chapter Five (Branjie) - Athena2

Previously: Brooke and Vanessa’s night of babysitting turned into them kissing Now: They both deal with the aftermath and find themselves pulled together once again

A/N:Thank you all so much for the amazing feedback and comments you’ve been giving this fic! They really do mean a lot to me and I appreciate them all. It would be great if you could leave some on this chapter as well. Thank you so much to Writ for betaing and helping me out with this chapter, you’re the best.

“I kissed Brooke,” Vanessa blurts to A’keria. Saying it makes it real, proves it wasn’t a dream or hallucination. It really happened, and Vanessa knows it doesn’t mean anything, but her lips are still tingling.

“What the hell happened?” A’keria asks.

“We were babysitting, and her niece chanted for us to kiss and…yeah.” Shit, it sounds lame like that. But on that rug, with the sunset illuminating every inch of Brooke’s face, her cheeks glowing, it was almost…magical. Almost real. It’s not, though. It barely lasted five seconds. Vanessa kissed her abuela longer than that as a kid, scrubbing sticky lipstick off her cheek after.

“Damn. One six-year-old is all it took.” A’keria mutters.

Vanessa swats at her. “Hey! She was loud enough for the whole building to hear, okay? We had to!”

A’keria rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she really forced you. Who would win, two adult clowns or a first-grader? Not you, apparently.”

“You calling me a clown?”

“You and Brooke. Might as well open up a circus.”

Vanessa groans. “It was just so the kids would quiet down. She’s gonna be my fake wife at the carnival to shut Paul up some more, and that’s it.”

But does Vanessa want that to be it? That can be the end of the fake-wives-and-girlfriends thing, but Vanessa knows she doesn’t want it to be the end of their friendship. She can’t lose Brooke in her life, laughing at work stories and sending each other selfies, someone who just gets her, who didn’t ask her to change anything.

They were thrown right into the fire at first, forced to act married. But things have slowed since then, the intense blaze now a cozy fireplace warmth, with more of Brooke unraveling before Vanessa’s eyes. How sweet she was around her family. How she sends Vanessa pictures of dogs she sees. How excited she was after realizing she made mac and cheese. And the kiss–but Vanessa’s not thinking about that.

“If you say so.”

“We’re friends. Not every relationship has to be romantic.”

“No, they don’t,” A’keria agrees. “But if your feelings for her go beyond friendship, I don’t think you should deny that.”

Vanessa shrugs. She’ll deal with that when–and if–she has to.

—

“Hytes!”

The men on the museum board favor last names for address and Brooke can’t argue without being called whiny. She snaps her head up, trying to focus. Her brain is a slow computer with too many tabs open, pinging between guests and her speech and kissing Vanessa—

“Yes, Greg?”

Ugh. Greg. He hadn’t believed Brooke was department head the first time they met, had called the museum director to accuse her of lying. The resulting pride that erupted in her after Greg found out that Brooke is, in fact, department head, had left a stream of tension between them at every board meeting.

“Check with the guests for the T-Rex opening again. Some are major donors, so we need them.”

Brooke nods wearily. So much of the museum came down to donors, and she knows it’s important, but she wishes this entire exhibit opening didn’t have to fall on her. But her shoulders are more than strong enough to carry it.

“Unfortunately, with the expenses of the T-Rex,” Greg continues, “Your department might face cuts if this doesn’t go well.”

The words slice at Brooke’s stomach. “Cuts?” she demands. “But funding got cut last year–”

“Then you’ll just have to do well, won’t you?”

Brooke nods. She could punch Greg, but she has to channel that energy into this exhibit instead. She can’t face more budget cuts. She cried after letting Ariel the intern go last year, and she won’t lose Plastique this year. Cuts would also mean less events and kids programs. How many kids like her come through those doors and gain a new passion for paleontology? How many find a safe space, or realize they’re not alone? How many dream of ages past as they walk through the rooms?

Brooke won’t let them down.

All she wants is to text Vanessa after, to rant with someone who knows that higher-up board-member nonsense. Vanessa said that one racist library board member told her ‘someone like her’ didn’t even belong in a library, and Brooke just wanted to hold Vanessa and comfort her. Now, selfish as it is, she wants Vanessa, because somehow Vanessa has come to mean comfort to Brooke. She writes a text asking Vanessa for coffee and freezes.

Vanessa doesn’t need Brooke’s problems weighing her down. She knows how caring and empathetic Vanessa is, how she takes on the feelings of others, hurts when her friends are and sad when a kid at the library cries. Makes it her mission to cheer them all up. Brooke loves it about her, but she can see Vanessa caring too much and getting stressed, and she won’t let Vanessa do that. They’re friends, and they share things, but this seems too big, something Brooke wouldn’t want anyone to carry with her. She won’t hurt Vanessa with it.

She deletes the text.

—

Vanessa hovers outside Brooke’s office. Something’s up with Brooke. Her replies have been short and half-hearted all week, and though it could be nothing, and she knows she has no right to expect essay-length texts from Brooke, she knows in her gut something’s wrong.

Vanessa finally knocks, and the Brooke that greets her isn’t unlike normal Brooke. But Vanessa looks closer, for things she would have missed before but are obvious to her now. Brooke’s eyes are dull, rimmed with dark circles. Her hair is messier than normal, like she’s been tearing her hands through it. And then she sees Brooke’s hands, usually so sturdy and clever and quick. They’re trembling a little, just enough for Vanessa to see. She has to restrain herself from grabbing those hands, running her thumb over the smooth skin until Brooke is calm.

“What’s wrong?” Vanessa asks.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.” She can see the wheels spinning in Brooke’s mind, the worry in her eyes. She’s seen Brooke nervous before, but this is different. This is tense and stressed Brooke, trying and failing to keep her professional put-togetherness, and it hurts Vanessa’s heart. Vanessa puts her hands on her hips, daring Brooke to lie again.

Brooke sighs. “It’s the exhibit. I need to make sure all the donors are coming, and if there’s not a good turnout my department might lose funding, so everything…everything has to be perfect.” She takes a deep breath, and Vanessa wonders how long she’s been holding that in, letting it poison her.

“Perfect’s a lot to ask,” she says softly.

“I can do it. It has to be,” Brooke says simply, and Vanessa wonders how many times perfection’s been asked of her before, how many times she’s worked herself into the ground to deliver it.

“Who said? That asshole Greg?” She’s heard enough from Brooke to know Greg is not someone she wants to meet.

Brooke nods weakly, and all Vanessa wants is to smooth that wrinkle between her eyebrows.

“Can I help with anything?”

“I don’t think so. I just have to wait for replies. And finish my speech–” she grabs notecards off her desk, “–which is horrible.”

“I’ll listen to it! No arguing,” she says when Brooke protests. “Read it.”

Brooke does, talking about how great it was to bring the skull here and the importance of museums. It’s a good speech, one that’ll have rich people opening their checkbooks. But something’s missing–that breathless, childlike passion Brooke has when she talks about dinosaurs, the excited inner child that comes through in her smile. Brooke is going for cool and professional, and it’s good, but it’s not her. At least, not the Brooke Vanessa knows.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Vanessa says gently, “But can you make it less formal? A little more fun, more like you?”

“That’s how I had it the first time,” Brooke admits. “I just–”

“You wanted it to be perfect,” Vanessa finishes. “But it’s perfect when it’s like you too, you know.”

Brooke smiles, and Vanessa knows she’s gotten through to her. “Thank you, Ness.”

Vanessa wrinkles her nose. “Ness?”

“That’s what Sophie calls you. I kinda like it.”

“Okay, Brookie.”

Brooke swats at her playfully, and Vanessa drops into Brooke’s desk chair. Her desk is neat, of course, littered with tiny dinosaur figures and pens in a C-3PO mug. She smiles at pictures of Brooke on fossil digs, in graduation robes, giving presentations.

“Brooke Lynn Hytes, dino expert.” Vanessa shoots a horrible imitation of Brooke into her desk phone.

“I don’t sound like that!”

“Sure you do.”

“‘Sure you do,’” Brooke mimics in a raspy voice that Vanessa admits is accurate. She could sit here all day, but lunch is almost over.

“I gotta go, but take a break,” Vanessa orders. “I know you’re working too hard.”

Brooke nods, and her smile loops in Vanessa’s head all day.

—

Brooke types the last sentence of her speech, sitting back in awe. Her speech for the opening of a special exhibit, a childhood dream come true. It hadn’t been easy to get here. There were the doubtful years of college when Brooke learned paleontology was a lot more than digging up bones, when professors–usually male–approached her in lectures and asked if she had the right room, maybe you’re looking for the teaching department, sweetie? There was the struggle of needing a perfect application for one of only a few internships, the job prospects that made her toss and turn at night, wondering if she should go the teaching route, suck it up and teach earth science to bored college kids needing an elective. And then those first bones shone through the dirt, glittering under the Montana sun, and Brooke had known that this was all she ever wanted.

She reaches for her phone to tell Vanessa. It’s strange—Brooke never would’ve thought of sharing this with anyone, would’ve just kept it to herself. Another day at work. But she’s done it, and all she wants is for Vanessa to know, to share it with her. Lately she’s sharing more and more with Vanessa, from funny memes or restaurant recommendations to the book of Mary Oliver poems she’s going to give Vanessa as a thank you for helping with the speech. She loves when Vanessa sends stuff back, selfies of her in a witch hat, or pictures of crafts she’s done. The fact that Vanessa did something like tiny She-Ra swords and thought of Brooke, wants her to experience it too, makes Brooke warm and fuzzy inside.

There’s a missed call from her mom, and Brooke calls her back first, trying to calm her heart. There’s no reason to think anything bad happened, she reminds herself.

“Mom?” Brooke asks hesitantly.

“Brooke!” She’s too cheerful to report bad news, and Brooke relaxes. “Your dad and I were wondering if you and Vanessa want to come for dinner some time?”

Shit. “Um–”

“We’d love to see her again.”

“I’d have to check.”

It’s not fair to ask Vanessa again. The agreement was one work dinner and one family party, but they’ve strayed so far from that Brooke doesn’t know where they stand anymore. Brooke planned to say they broke up if her mom asked. She never thought her parents would like Vanessa so much. But she should have expected it, because who doesn’t love Vanessa seconds after meeting her?

“Well, I hope so.” Her mother’s voice is so loving that Brooke’s guilt burns hotter. “Vanessa’s such a good fit for you. You’re so happy around her.”

It’s not real! Brooke wants to yell, and she almost tells her mom the truth. But that would crush her, crush the person who always wanted Brooke to be happy. The person who brought her to the park and coaxed her to join the other kids, even though Brooke was too nervous to ask for her turn on the monkey bars and sat under the slide instead, dreaming of worlds where she wasn’t told to come out of her shell. Who brought her to museums and science camps and encouraged her to keep going in college. Who tried to find women for Brooke to date after she came out, wanting her to have someone she could be happy with.

How could she disappoint her mom like that?

She swallows the lump in her throat. “I-I’ll check, Mom, okay?”

“Okay, honey. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

Brooke sighs, shrugging out the tension in her shoulders. She needs the big guns for this one.

—

“I don’t know what to do, Nina.” Brooke burrows herself deeper into Nina’s couch and takes another sip of wine. “Everything’s a mess.”

Nina occupies the couch’s other end, just like their college days, giggling on a cramped twin bed. Brooke wishes they were back in that freezing cinder-block room, where her biggest concerns were finding edible dining hall food and finishing homework and herding drunk Nina, who just wanted to re-enact every Disney movie ever, into bed. Not the absolute disaster things have become. One little lie. One little lie to stop endless questions about dating, the well-meant hopes that she’ll find the one. Now, the lie is a skyscraper about to collapse in front of her, and all she has to mend it is duct tape.

What was she thinking, agreeing to this? One smile from Vanessa and she was gone, fake ring on her finger and knees touching on her parents’ couch like teenagers, watching movies and bringing coffee and texting nonstop. Now she has to break her mom’s heart and tell her they broke up, or do the act all over, pretend to be in love again, and then what? They keep doing this for the rest of their lives?

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” Nina says finally. “You said Vanessa liked your parents, so why not ask her?”

“Because where does it end? We do this again, my mom loves Vanessa more, she keeps asking to see her. I’m supposed to ask Vanessa to do this for every birthday and holiday and whatever? Next thing you know we’re spending Christmas there–”

“Brooke.”

“–And my mom loves weddings. There hasn’t been one since my sister’s so she’ll start asking about that–”

“Brooke.”

“–Then we’ll have a fake wedding, and what if she starts asking about kids? Oh my God, I’m gonna have to kidnap a child and they’ll make a Lifetime movie about me—“

“Brooke! Breathe, okay?”

Brooke realizes how fast the words are tumbling out, how little she’s breathing. She forces a deep breath, willing her lungs to accept the air. Nina pats her shoulder gently, and Brooke nods that she’s okay.

“I think you should just ask Vanessa,“ Nina continues. “There’s plenty of time to figure things out after. You can tell your mom you broke up later.”

“But it’s not fair to keep asking Vanessa. And the longer this goes on, the more it’ll crush my mom when it’s over. It’s easier to end it now, before she really gets attached to Vanessa.”

It’s not just her mom, Brooke realizes. The more they do this, the closer Brooke gets with Vanessa, and the more it will hurt when it ends. Vanessa has become one of her favorite people, and she can’t lose their friendship. What if asking Vanessa to do this again ruins it?

“Honey, I get that. Vanessa did ask you to the carnival though, so maybe she won’t mind going to your parents’ again? It’s one more event each way, so it’s not totally unfair.”

Brooke shrugs. “Maybe.”

“Don’t forget yourself either,” Nina says. It’s familiar, something’s Brooke’s heard since they were eighteen and Nina made sure sleeping and eating didn’t get sacrificed to Brooke’s studying. “You can’t keep fake dating just to please people.”

Brooke nods. “You’re right, Nina. How’d you get so smart?”

“Just born that way, I guess.” Nina sips wine with a smug smile. “And I want a lead role in the Lifetime movie.”

—

The carnival grows closer, and preparation is in full swing. There’s a running tally, currently at seven, of how many game booths Yvie’s told off on the phone for not following safety rules. There’s the list of food trucks Vanessa and Silky assembled from their personal rankings, plus a new Greek one Brooke told her about. There’s Nina and A’keria’s practice sheets of face paint designs, from fierce tigers to questionable butterflies.

Aside from the kids, this is what Vanessa likes best about her job–having different activities to do, things that let her be creative and not have to sit still at a desk like she did in school, or spend hours refolding the same shirts like when she did retail. She can run outside to test paper airplanes for a craft, or arrange displays, or help kids with homework, and maybe that’s why she never wanted another job. What other job would let her have this much fun?

The added bonus is that it distracts her from Brooke and dinner with her parents. She shouldn’t need distracting from Brooke, but try telling her brain that after seeing Brooke in a fire-engine red skirt the other day, the fabric wrapped around her legs like a second skin. Not to mention the fact that she kissed Brooke pops into her head at random moments, and she can still feel those soft lips against hers.

Is there something more to her feelings? But they’ve been faking a relationship, and that’s bound to rub off. How many movie co-stars got together after playing love interests? Not that she and Brooke are exactly movie stars, but hey, their performance was convincing. Sure, she talks on the phone with Brooke for hours at night, just like high school minus the tether of the phone cord, and brought her cookies once, but those don’t have to be romantic. The speeding up of her heart around Brooke, the way she’s drawn close to her like a magnet, how her eyes can’t leave Brooke when they’re together, aren’t anything either.

So having dinner with Brooke’s parents again shouldn’t be a big deal. If this were a real relationship, a second parent meeting would be much more serious, requiring Vanessa to wear her best dress and bring fancy wine. But they’ve already passed the test, and it’s just dinner. Brooke is nervous, she knows, never planned things to get this far and felt awful for asking, but Vanessa gets it. If the situation was reversed, she doubts she could crush her mom, always on lookout for girls Vanessa can date, like that either.

And she did ask Brooke to the carnival, which wasn’t part of the agreement. Another dinner isn’t unfair. One more dinner, and Brooke will end things on her side, and Vanessa will go back to saying her wife is sick when parties come up. Vanessa hates to think of Brooke’s parents being upset they broke up, but she can do it.

A’keria’s wrong. She’s not in love with Brooke.

At least, she doesn’t think so.

—

Dinner is just them and Brooke’s parents, and Vanessa lets herself go. They want to know more about her, and she tells stories of summers at the beach as a kid, sand clinging to her legs as she built sand castles with her mom, how she and brother splashed for hours, how her dad hoisted her on his shoulders to watch the nightly fireworks. She talks about her college roommate Shea–they kissed once, incidentally, but Vanessa leaves that out–and how they threw a party on the dorm roof. She talks about the time she, Silky, and A’keria misread the recipe and made 30 pancakes instead of 15 and passed them around the apartment building.

Everyone laughs, and it’s hard not to love this, not to want this. A girlfriend like Brooke with her nice family, who reminds Vanessa of her own family even if they’re nowhere near as chaotic. Talking about memories must spur something in Brooke’s mom, because after dessert she pulls them in the living room and whips out a photo album.

“Here’s Brooke as a baby,” Brooke’s mom says, and Vanessa melts, her heart damn near exploding at baby Brooke, wrapped snugly in a white blanket patterned with pink hearts. Her hair is lighter than it is now, almost white-blonde, but her smile is exactly the same. Her eyes are wide and shining with joy.

“Here she is in kindergarten.”

There’s five-year-old Brooke outside a red brick building with a huge grin on her face, modeling a pink tutu, in a blue dress at graduation.

“And here’s Brooke in middle school—“

“Mom, I’m begging you,” Brooke groans, but the page flips to a picture of teenage Brooke whose reluctant smile reveals wire-covered teeth.

Brooke buries her face in her hands, and Vanessa gently pulls them away.

“Hey, everyone looked horrible in middle school,” Vanessa soothes. “I bleached part of my hair once and looked like Cruella DeVil.”

Brooke brightens. “You owe me a picture of that.”

“Fine.”

The pages turn, and Vanessa doesn’t notice how late it’s gotten, doesn’t notice anything until thunder tears through the sky, bringing pounding rain with it. Everyone jumps, and the reality that they have a half-hour drive in pouring rain and darkness hits, making Vanessa squeeze herself.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” Brooke says. “Wanna go, Ness?”

If Vanessa could focus, she’d notice her face flushing over the nickname. But she can’t, because she very much does not want to go out into that storm.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Vanessa suggests, and Brooke nods.

It’s still going strong half an hour later, and Vanessa’s jumpy, rubbing sweaty hands on her legs.

“I don’t think it’s gonna let up,” Brooke’s mom says in worry. “I’d hate for you to drive in this dark anyway. Maybe you should stay here for the night.”

Vanessa turns to Brooke, who’s biting her lip. Vanessa knows Brooke doesn’t want her to feel uncomfortable staying here, but Vanessa would much rather be in this cozy house than driving in that storm. Brooke gives a nod that lets Vanessa know it’s her call.

“I think we should stay, Brooke,” Vanessa says quickly. “There’s no point driving in this or waiting for it to stop and driving home at midnight or something.” She appeals to reason, not wanting her fear to show.

Brooke agrees, her gaze softening as she takes in Vanessa. Vanessa suddenly realizes she’s folded up into herself, alert for the next crash of thunder.

Brooke’s mom smiles. “I’ll get the guest bed ready…” She heads down the hall and Brooke turns to Vanessa, eyes soft and tender.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Brooke asks. “I don’t want you to think you have to.”

“I want to,” Vanessa insists.

Thunder rumbles and Vanessa jumps, curling into Brooke’s side on instinct. Brooke seems shocked at first, but softens into the touch.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brooke says softly. She lowers a tentative arm around Vanessa and her muscles unclench. “We’re safe in here.”

“Sorry,” Vanessa whispers. “I know it’s just a storm—“

“Don’t worry. Everyone’s afraid of something,” Brooke soothes. “I’m really afraid of flying. Small spaces too.”

Vanessa nods shakily. It’s so embarrassing to be scared of thunderstorms as an adult. No one judged her as a kid in her blanket nest, snuggling stuffed animals to protect her from the rain lashing at the windows. Even her brother would stop teasing and let her hold his favorite Batman action figure. Her mom would bring her hot chocolate and comfort her, and Vanessa shouldn’t need comfort anymore. But Brooke is offering it, holding her securely enough to fend off a storm herself, and Vanessa lets her, the safety of Brooke’s arms better than her childhood blankets.

When Brooke’s mom says the guest bed is ready, Vanessa thinks she would rather sleep in Brooke’s arms.

—

The guest bed is a cozy cloud of soft white cotton sheets, and Vanessa wants to jump right in.

Brooke grabs two pillows. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” she says, assembling a makeshift bed with the pillows and spare blankets.

“Oh, you don’t have to–”

“I don’t mind. Really,” Brooke insists.

Brooke’s gaze lingers on Vanessa, and Vanessa tries to catch all the feelings that flash across Brooke’s face. Does Brooke look…hopeful? Like she wants Vanessa to resist, pull her into the bed? Or is she hoping Vanessa lets her stay on the floor so they don’t have to sleep together? Is she worried about making Vanessa uncomfortable? Is Brooke uncomfortable? Vanessa doesn’t want to make Brooke uncomfortable, doesn’t want to force anything, so she agrees, wondering if that’s sadness or something else on Brooke’s face. Vanessa slides between the sheets, and the bed feels way too big with just her in it.

“It’s weird, sleeping in my parents’ house.” Brooke’s voice rings faintly from the floor, and Vanessa moves to the edge of the bed to hear her better. It reminds her of the sleepovers she had as a kid, snuggling in her Little Mermaid sleeping bag and sharing secrets with her friends, everything more exciting when it was past their bedtimes.

“Sleeping in other places doesn’t bother me,” Vanessa says. “I stayed at my parents’ last Christmas and slept like a baby. Even better than a baby.”

“Is the bed okay?” Brooke frets. “I can–”

“It’s fine.” Vanessa pauses. It could be the sleepover memories rubbing off, but she wants to talk with Brooke, talk all night about everything and nothing, in a way she hasn’t since she was thirteen.

“What were you like in school?” she asks, eager for more of the Brooke in that photo album, of the joy in her eyes that Vanessa recognizes now sometimes.

Brooke props herself up on her elbow and peeks up at Vanessa. “Quiet, mostly. You know how some kids just walked in a room and made friends?”

“Yeah.”

Brooke sighs. “I couldn’t do that. I usually read by myself at recess, watching the other kids. I could never think of anything to say, and when I did it was either too late or I was too afraid to say it. I thought everyone would laugh at me. They usually did.”

“I’m sorry,” Vanessa breathes into the space between them.

Brooke shrugs. “It’s okay. I had some friends, but I didn’t mind being on my own. Or I got used to it, anyway. I don’t know if things would’ve been different if I wasn’t as nervous around people, y’know?”

“I get it,” Vanessa says. She would say more, but she knows it’s hard for Brooke to open up, and she doesn’t want to push her.

“What were you like?” Brooke asks.

“I was funny. I made one joke and suddenly I was the class clown. I didn’t always want to be, though,” she admits. “I was smart. I loved reading, loved learning—when I could focus, cause ADHD’s a bitch. But everyone thought I was stupid, ‘cause I was so restless. That’s why I decided to keep being funny instead. I didn’t realize there’s no reason I couldn’t be both.”

She had been friends with everyone—cheerleaders, drama kids, honors students. She had cracked jokes in class and had the charm to win over anyone. But it had been exhausting at times–sometimes she just wanted to curl up in the library and read, but there was no escaping the funny, popular kid gig, no way to try new things or change herself.

“Right,” Brooke agrees. “It’s like you were stuck in a box. Whatever people called you, that’s what you were.”

Vanessa nods, because that’s it. Brooke always gets her, and it’s a relief to have that understanding.

“God, school sucked, didn’t it?” Vanessa mutters. “At least we never have to go back.”

“Shit, yes. You couldn’t pay me to do high school again.”

They keep talking–about school, about childhood, about themselves–until Vanessa’s not even aware of the rain anymore, until there’s nothing in the world but their secrets and laughs floating through the darkness. They keep talking until Brooke’s eyes start drooping, her words growing farther and farther apart as she drifts off around 2am, and Vanessa settles and tries to do the same.

But she can’t sleep. That hole in the mattress where Brooke should be is a hole in Vanessa’s heart. Why didn’t she insist Brooke get in the bed with her? Vanessa usually sleeps well, but her best sleep is always with someone there, with warmth and safety beside her.

As a kid, she slept with her entire stuffed animal collection so no one felt left out. Through all her relationships, it was sleeping with someone that she loved the most–waking up in the night and feeling the safety of someone there, letting arms curve over her waist, the morning sun shining off her girlfriend’s face. There was such intimacy and tenderness in seeing someone sleep, seeing them so vulnerable and knowing that you loved them and would protect them. Maybe it’s better Brooke’s not next to her. Maybe it would bring up those feelings.

Vanessa peers down at Brooke. She’s curled up on her side, lips parted slightly. Vanessa’s heart beats in time with the gentle rise of Brooke’s chest. Sweet Brooke, who held her in the storm and always praised her and brought her coffee just because. Who always thinks of others first and never makes Vanessa do anything she’s uncomfortable with.

She looks at Brooke’s face, soft and untroubled and angelic in her sleep, and her heart swells, and shit, she knows that feeling. She tries to stop it, but it’s like using an umbrella for defense from a hurricane. She wants Brooke here, wants her warmth and intimacy because—

Because she’s in love with Brooke.

[dopposhusband]

I know I say it all the time, but I wanted to tell you directly for once: I think the stuff you write is genuinely great! Whether it be a few headcanons, a fic or a description of one of your AUs, I really love them! They're well written and always interesting to read, so thank you for posting your stuff! I'll always be looking forward to more! Once again, I have another question about your boys! Do you have some friendship HCs? Either between them or in general? ^^

@yokairu​ Youre the absolute sweetest!! It means the world to read that, I owe you so much, thank you! I wrote a whole thing about Doppo having friends once at three in the morning and its been sitting in my drafts for a few weeks so I thought the ideas I had there would be interesting here! I also put a lil hc what I think being friends with them would be like too!

Doppo doesn’t really have any friends outside of Jakurai and Hifumi which is a huge shame because I think he could get along with everyone! He really deserves more people to care about him!

💼 Dice inviting Doppo to try a more adventurist life for a night, have the two go gambling and drinking together. I just want Doppo to be able to loosen up and have some fun and I also want Dice to understand just how much of Doppos apology loops come from such an abusive work life. They’re complete opposites and they could learn something from each other!!!

💼 Doppo being a big brother figure for Ichiro, Doppo is literally the walking definition of exhaustion and having to take care of two baby brothers must’ve been tough on Ichiro. So Doppo can understand having to hide more negative emotions from his years hiding them from co-workers, managers, customers, and maybe even his own younger brother. Doppo might not be able to help carry the burden Ichiro has but let him give him like a nice lil head pat, tell him hes doing a great job!!!

💼 Also speaking of buster bros, Jiro and Saburo??? Like imagine Doppo teaching Saburo how to use Microsoft Excel!! Jiro catching Doppo on his lunch break and begging him to buy him lunch too, then Doppo complaining about how much his job sucks and Jiro giving him some of the worst career advice ever.

💼 Rio teaching him how to make all kinds of drinks and foods he can eat to relieve his stress and tension. Just Doppo out in the woods to clear his mind from the bustle of the city, taking in fresh air and just relaxing. Having someone like Rio who isn’t too talkative but is always willing to let him vent then after hes let it all out he can just lie back and look at the stars!!

💼 Even though Ramuda and Matenrou are on very tense terms but having him make clothes for Doppo. It could just be something small like a nicely designed tie but it’d be enough because itd liven him up knowing that this is something no one else in the world has!! And just having him model for Ramuda at all, it would be such a good boost to his self esteem and hed get to wear all kinds of pretty outfits!!

💼 DOPPO BOOK CLUB!!! DOPPO BOOK CLUB!!! On Doppos days off he host a book club with Gentaro and Rosho! They all talk about books they’ve read, Doppo usually only talks about chapters rather than full books because he rarely has time to read. Gentaro constantly lying about the ending of a book to goof on Rosho and Doppo but always feeling a little bad when Doppo takes it seriously and gets all bummed that it was taking him too long to finish.

💼 Sasara the funny clown man trying his damnedest to make Doppo laugh at one of his jokes!! The salaryman is sad too much he deserves a good laugh too and sometimes Sasaras funny so its perfect!!

👔 Being friends with Doppo changes the longer you know him, at first he’ll be very nervous and overly considerate, but after a long while he’ll eventually relax. He worries a lot about being a burden or about you thinking being friends with him is an obligation so you’ll have to be the one to initiate conversation with him at the beginning. Once he feels confidant that you really care about him then comes the second hurdle of him feeling terrible about never having any time. Time is an issue for Doppo but he tries his hardest to always answer whatever texts you send him and he always extends an invitation to you whenever he can! Slowly, he’ll also be more open about his emotions, not like he isn’t already but he’ll be less worried about expressing them. He’ll be less indecisive on vocalizing his annoyance if you do something that bothers him or if you’re doing something stupid alongside Hifumi. He’ll still be apologetic but less so when it comes to him keeping his ground because you guys are close enough for him not to worry about bending over backwards. Its all a long process but if you do make it to the end you have a very loving friend who is just glad to have you around!

Ichiro needs more people to hang out with, people he can de-stress with when he’s away from his brothers. MC BIG BRO DESERVES A BREAK!

🎧 I know I ship with IchiDice but the two would make great boyfriends and regular friends! Ichiro tends to avoid things that he’s too young so he can’t go gambling instead he gets Dice addicted to a gatcha games. Dice isnt huge on the anime stuff but he sure loves hitting those SSRs! The two are always talking about their pulls, bragging about the good and complaining about the bad almost 24/7. On the other side though when a day gets too stressful Dice is more than okay to listen to Ichiro vent a little, although it is rare and its not like Dice gives good advice but its nice to have an outlet. In return Ichiro always lets Dice crash at his place whenever he hits a massive losing streak.

🎧 Ramuda constantly complains about Ichiro and his brothers clothes so he has an excuse to make them new ones. He also loves texting Ichiro just to chat, always using stickers and litters his texts with emoticons.  。.:☆*:･'(*⌒―⌒*))) °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) ヽ(￣ω￣(。。 )ゝ

🎧 Okay, now hear me out, Rio and Ichiro. It’s the strangest combination but Rio is just such a sweetheart, after the DRB he came over to the Yamada household to check up on them and bring them food. After a little while of gaining his trust Ichiro would slowly warm up to him, I mean he helped with chores and cooked for them. (Even tho the food is a little suspicious being made literally anything) It must be hard to take care of two kids when you’re still a kid too so Rio wants to try and help a little.

🎧 I think there isn’t enough of a focus on him being on good terms with Jakurai and the two being friends. Like Rio, Jakurai worries about Ichiro and how much of his childhood was taken away from him so whenever the two are together he tries to take up the responsibility of paying or driving so he can relax. He takes him and his brothers out fishing occasionally, how much they catch depends on how much Jiro and Saburo argue though.

🔴 Ichiro is an absolutely amazing friend to have! Although his brotherly instincts can make him a little overbearing sometimes, always inviting you over for dinner or reprimanding you if you do something a bit more reckless. He loves involving people in his interests so if you even hint about anime or hip hop he’s on you in a second to drop everything he knows about the subjects, he has whole list of series, artists, and light novels he can’t wait to share! Of course he loves to hear about whatever you’re interested in at the time too and tries to get into it too! Day offs or slow days are anime days so be prepared to get hit with a spam of messages from Ichiro to watch that anime he kept talking about!

Dice travels literally all over the place, he deserves to know pretty much everyone, honestly.

🎲 Jiro and him are some rowdy boys, they get into all kinds of trouble! Whenever Jiro goes tagging sometimes Dice will tag along if he’s too broke to be gambling. If Jiro has any extra cash on him he’ll take Dice to get something cheap to eat since he can’t have him starving himself. Honestly, Dice is like having another older brother except he’s more embarrassing than Ichiro could ever dream to be.

🎲 He usually ends up seeing Samatoki at some of the casinos around Yokohama and like the true idiot he immediately begs for money, not the smartest thing to do to a yakuza but this is Dice. After being yelled a firm no, he’ll usually bum a smoke off him and the two will chat for a little. Sometimes if Samatoki is feeling friendly he’ll tell Dice about any gambling rings happening and if hes being even friendlier he’ll warn him about the dangers too.

🎲 Jyuto and him have run into each other a couple times although it was mainly him having to be escorted off private property. Every time Jyuto gets a call about about someone trespassing he gets so exhausted the moment he shows up and its just Dice again. After being pretend arrested Dice always ends up begging Jyuto to drive him to Rios camp.

🎲 Hifumi has found Dice in the alleyways he takes to the train station, the two usually chat on the way back to his apartment because Dice can’t say no to Hifumi’s cooking. After eating everything Hifumi would make him he’d usually either beg for gambling money or just enough to get back home. Although, on winning days he’ll visit the club, request Hifumi and a champagne call as thanks for feeding him with an extra bonus of downing a whole bottle of champagne. 

🎰 Congratulations you have gotten your very own stray cat! Dice is constantly coming and going so don’t be surprised to wake up and find him sleeping on your doorstep or couch if you gave him a key. He’ll be looking to you for food and the occasional pity 10,000 bills because he swears THE NEXT ONE IS THE WIN PLEASE. You never have to worry about telling him no though, his ability to go from groveling to standing on his feet to just chat is at a record speed. He usually spends his time gambling but if you can’t then he’s more than fine just talking a walk through the town pointing out places where he won or places he lost everything and had to hide while he waited for Gentaro. Past all the begging he’s a funky boy here for a good time and when he hits that 777 you are definitely one of the first people he goes to when its time to celebrate!