#I'm Going to Create Content That is SO SELF-INDULGENT

[writingjourney]

watch the sunlight fade // secondo

i'm just being self-indulgent right now, writing what i feel like, here is some more manon x secondo wip action, another snippet from a future long fic ➽ content: shoe riding, f!oc, light dom/sub, 1k words 18+

He sits on the bed, fully-clothed, looking a little weary as he takes off his watch. After a long day, he is ready to have the night end but then the door opens and for a second he forgets that he was about to undress. Manon approaches, gets on her knees between his half-spread legs and rests her head against his thigh, eyes closed. Secondo watches, a mild smile tugging at his lips, begins to stroke her head, fingers untangling her long hair at its roots.

She seems just as weary but having her on her knees makes him forget about his own exhaustion. Even now she looks like a painting, her soft features in the evening light sculpted with a soft brush, feathery, even her hair softer somehow, waves of deep brown satin. His fingertips move from her scalp to her cheeks, seeking that pillowy skin.

Manon blinks up at him, her dark lashes fluttering against the light behind him. “I missed you today.”

He smiles at this tender admission. They’d kept her locked down in the archives all day, forced to explain that horrible computer software to two Sisters that are older than his father. Secondo spent the day in the office they prepared for him, then being dragged around the grounds by the over-eager bishop. It’s rare they’re separated for more than a few hours and he doesn’t know what to make of the fact that it bothered him as well.

“Are you very tired?” he asks.

“Less tired, more… socially drained.” She stops, sighs. “I don’t want to talk or think anymore.”

“Mhm, you won’t have to now that you are with me.”

He continues to stroke her head, the smile more amused. She is already attuned to his every touch, every word he says, letting go of whatever tension the day left her with. He is lucky, he thinks, that he is the relief she chooses to let herself fall into, his presence, his body, his care. A privilege he does not take lightly, not when he knows how new this is for her.

“Sit on my shoe,” he orders, though he keeps his voice gentle.

Without a question she follows his words and he lifts the tip of his foot so that the hard leather presses into her cunt. She breathes a gasp, hand shooting out to grab his thigh. He thanks Satan for the warm weather, her knee-length habit revealing some of her skin, exposing her to him so readily.

“Good,” he whispers, reaching out to trace her lips with his thumb. “No more thinking tonight, my dove. You concentrate on me, take what you need.”

She understands, tests how to roll her hips to get that friction, her cheek back on his thigh, one arm wrapped around his leg, the other still grasping at his pants. Secondo watches with his thumb pushed into her mouth, adjusting his foot to see her reactions. Her lips firmly wrap around him and he can feel every whimper vibrating inside of her. It’s evident what this does to her, the position, his guidance, the surrender to his every whim. She thrives on it, when he gently coaxes her into submission and rewards her for it. He could get drunk on seeing her like this, how she presses her core to the tip of his shoe again and again, soaked within seconds, seeking him out, moaning when she gets it just right and hiding her face against his leg, cheeks flushed and fingers trembling where they hold onto him so tightly.

“You can come like this, hm? You and your sensitive little cunt.” He presses down on her tongue and she whimpers, nods, already half-gone. “Do you want to, my dove?”

Another nod, a little more desperate this time. Her hand is wandering along his thigh and he takes it, presses it to the bulge she’s created in his pants. Feeling how hard he is she whimpers, curls her fingers, staring up at him with those beautiful big eyes, trying with fluttering lids to keep them open like she knows he enjoys.

“Do you see what you do to me, Manon? Just watching you is enough to drive your Papa to madness.”

He can feel her shuddering, biting down on his thumb as she comes with a choked moan. It’s enough to nearly send him there as well, how sensitive she is, how responsive, and he has to remove her hand, take a deep steadying breath. She’s crumpled at his feet now, his finger slipped from her mouth, wet and with the marks of her teeth like a ring wrapped around it.

“You did well, my dove,” he says, helping her up and sliding further onto the bed, giving her room to straddle him. His pants are soaked within seconds where her cunt presses against his cock and his hips jump at the sensation. His hands find the hem of her skirts, sliding up to feel her warm skin against his fingertips. Reversed roles, he feels a desperate need to rut against her now, to forget about everything else that is so trivial compared to what he feels in her presence.

But she falls against him, all boneless, and he buries his face against her, hugs her as tight as he can. He missed her, allowing the word in, and it is not as scary to admit as he thought it would be.

“Did you leave a mess on my shoe? And now my good pants?” he whispers, chuckling at her neck when she nods. “What am I going to do with you?”

“You can’t punish me,” she says. “You asked me to do it.”

“Hm, I did, did I not?” He kisses her shoulder, then her neck, smelling the remains of her rich perfume at her pulse. “I will fuck you now, my dove, for as long as I feel like it. And then we have a bath.”

She shudders, delightfully, her hips already stuttering for friction. It might be a while before he can drag himself away from her to let the night end, no matter how tired he is. But the prospect suddenly isn’t as nearly as enticing anymore.

─── ⛧ ✦ ⛧ ───

thank you for indulging me and my oc shenanigans, i know it's not for everyone ♡

more manondo here if you so fancy!

[sungiescheotluv]

mirror muscles ⭑.ᐟ na jaemin

pairing: na jaemin x gender neutral reader

word count: 2.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, established relationship, suggestive, gym talk(?)

summary: doing your new resolutions with jaemin has always worked in your favor, most goals ticked off your lists. however, when you mention going to gym, jaemin's enthusiasm reaches new heights.

notes: hiyaaaa! it feels like forever since i last posted (two days omg 🙄) but i do hope you pretty stars enjoy this very indulgent fic! as an aspiring gym girlie, i'd do anything for this kind of princess treatment (particularly from jaemin 😋) also, the title of this is based on the soft play song with the same name (emo jisung, lemme give u some music recs). ok, i think i'm done here. wishing u all the best, much loveeee! <3

Note to self: never, under any circumstances, tell Jaemin your New Year’s resolution. Because one peek at your ambitious list and Jaemin will pry you from your warm bed, at the ass crack of dawn (might you add) to go to the gym because ‘nothing beats a morning pump.’

If you weren’t stupidly in love with him, you would��ve dropped a dumbbell on his toe.

How you get to this point is a lot more wholesome. Since the start of your relationship, once snow trickles down for Christmas, you two sit at your dining table with your laptops opened on Pinterest and pin-point what goals you'd like to achieve the following year. This way, you’re not shouldering your ambitions alone, having each other every step of the year as you tick off box after box. So far, you’ve managed to complete most of your goals. Go traveling, learn a new language, cook more home-cooked meals, limit screen time (still working on that) and many more. Jaemin was also progressing well: dedicating more time in his photography, reducing his coffee intake, going to bed earlier and visiting his mother more. 

For this year’s moodboard, while collecting pictures of your next set of goals, fitness content shows up in your recommendations. People in pilates studios in their pastel pink gym-sets. The aesthetic draws you in, how content people feel moving their body besides getting their 10k steps a day in. More photos start showing up, people sculpting their pride in the gym, sharing personal stories of their fitness journey and how the gym has taught them so much about themselves. What they’re capable of, what they never thought they could do and what opportunities lie await now that they’re happier in themselves. It all seems promising, even more so when you reconsider how bright your best friend’s life’s become since making the choice. She’d rarely accompany you to a game of badminton and now she’s pioneering her own run-club, amassing a social media following the size of an army.

You’d have to ask her how to get started once she’s back from her influencer trip (maybe content creating is something you needed to hop on). Then again, peering over your laptop screen to Jaemin’s glowing face, you could simply ask him. He’s been consistently going to the gym for a while now, to the point where you fake-pleaded for SM to close their gym because your boyfriend's become too buff for you to function. He’s always been gorgeous, with a face that could charm a snake, but now that he’s carved like a Renaissance sculpture, you couldn’t form a coherent sentence around him. Of course, aesthetic reasons are what lured him into the space, but he relays it’s become a lot more than that for him.

“I want to be strong, not only to build my confidence but to also protect my loved ones,” he looks directly at you, a serious hue to his eyes. “It’s another form of self-love. Showing up for myself, proving I can do hard things, even when I don’t want to. That I can step out of my comfort zone, try new things and ultimately, live a longer life. Because at the end of the day, as much as I do this for me, I also do it so I can help you carry groceries. So that I can move furniture around when we move in together, be the one that my family calls if they need something physically demanding done,”

Fondness curves his lips, a flicker of timidity dart his eyes down to the desk before they flicker back up at you, astoundingly earnest as he says, “I’d also want to keep up with our kids. Carry them when they’re tired or run after them in a park. Those are my reasons.”

Something stutters in your chest. Then, leaps. Over the course of your three year relationship, it’s only natural that topics like this are mentioned, like marriage and children. Heck, you two shared a Pinterest board of decor ideas for the shared apartment you’d been on the lookout for. So, it shouldn't phase you but it does. How far into the future he sees with you. How he shares a bit of himself so effortlessly, in a way that lacks pressure and possesses good faith. Love and promise. All prominent themes throughout your relationship, one you thank your lucky stars for.

As a consequence, you flush. Folding like the early days of your relationships. “You’re getting bold these days. We haven’t even moved in together.”

“All in good time, angel,” he grins, looking a bit lovesick. “In any case, if this is something you wanna do, I’d be more than happy to help. Go to the gym with you so you don’t feel anxious, show you how to use the machines, get you workout clothes - whatever you want.”

You could marry this man.

You extend your arm across the wooden table, hand finding his as your fingers interlace, the same song and dance you’d hope you’d spend your life doing. “Thanks, baby.”

And now? Now, divorce weighs heavily on your mind.

In an effort to avoid the New Year’s crowd, Jaemin wakes you up early in the slum of days after Christmas where time doesn’t exist, cuddling into your half-sleeping figure with a gentle voice. Coaxes you to get up, slip on the new gym clothes you’d spent on his card (his treat, he said) and somehow, here you are, stinging eyes squinting under fluorescent lights with some EDM track playing faintly in the background.

“Oh, baby. Don’t look so down, you’re in good hands,” Jaemin coos, hand squishing your cheeks under your chin before pulling you into his chest, warm and comforting. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Couldn’t this wait until,” you glance at your fitness tracker, your own treat to yourself. “Midday? No one needs to be here at 9 am.”

“Maybe, but it’s a good way to start your day. Or get it out of the way,” he chuckles, spinning you out his arms before he wiggles his eyebrows. “Plus, who doesn’t want to see my muscles first thing in the morning?”

He drives home his point by kissing his bicep, something that should make you cringe out your skin or disappear without a trace, but no. Perhaps you’re still sleepy, shielding a snicker with your hand because of how lame (said adoringly) he is.

“You said you’d usually start off with thirty minutes on the treadmill, right?” You nod your head. “Okay, I’ll go with you. I’ll run for fifteen and row until you're done. So you don’t constantly have me in your ear.”

You laugh, because as grumpy as you’d been on the way here, you could never grow tired of him. All his carefree and mischief nature, his sweet and generous manner - you couldn’t even if you tried. 

Few people populate the modern gym, near to none in the cardio section as Jaemin refreshes your memory on all the buttons before you begin. Beside you, he does sporadic sprints, no heavy breaths clouding his chatter with you. You, on the other hand, keep it relatively reserved for your first time, upping the speed when you want to challenge yourself, surprising yourself with the distance and time that flies by. Soon enough, Jaemin’s squeezing your hand and moving a few rows back where the rowing machines are, leaving you with your walking playlist.

Again, in a flash, time passes by, upbeat songs blaring in your headphones that make you dance through the next fifteen minutes, a simmer of sadness coming when you’ve reached time with a whole host of songs still in the queue.

“You can listen to them next time,” Jaemin winks before leading you into a dark, LED room dotted with mirrors and yoga mats. This is one of the rooms booked for classes, but for now, it’s your stretching area where you cycle through some stretches and Jaemin jokes about folding you like a pretzel. 

The one other person in the room - a woman in her thirties - coughs, before smirking your way, the heat of your embarrassment migrating to your cheeks as you swat at Jaemin. He simply laughs, stretching to reveal his happy trail and suddenly, you forget why you’re even mad. 

When you’re finished, he shows you different sections - an assortment of cable machines, the weights area and then to an area with more machines. There’s a few people occupying the machines, immersed in their own world with flushed cheeks and sweat seeping into their clothes. It fills you with relief, that no one’s focused on you and your sweating figure as if you had ‘gym newbie’ written across your forehead. Jaemin shows you some of the machines he uses, depending on what he wants to work out but for the most part, lets you decide what machines you’d want to use - if any.

“Why do I need to put on muscle? You putting me in a headlock is good enough.” You fake-complain, feeding off the gentle approach Jaemin’s taken in trying to convert you to a gym rat.

“And you say I’m the dirty one,” he tsks with a matching grin. “You don’t need to do anything. All I’m doing is showing you the options you have. The more things you try, the more likely you’ll find something you lik-”

“Is that the slut machine?”

Jaemin’s head jerks back, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. “What are you talking about?’

“This one,” you approach the machine closeby, pointing to the photo attached along with its actual name - hip adduction. “Isn’t this the one where people like, open their legs like crazy?”

Jaemin shakes his head, amusement in the smile he swipes with his hand. “Yes, it is. Wanna give it a go?”

“Hell yeah,” you climb into the machine in a rush, finding the experience more exciting than scary as Jaemin makes sure everything is in order. “This is gonna be hilarious.”

“I’m setting it to a low weight. If it’s too easy, we’ll move it upwards and try and find your range,” he comments, looking at you through his silver hair. “You ready?”

“Ready,” and you go, the weight moving like nothing, so much so that when it sets back to its original position, you’re more caught off guard by how far apart your legs are spread. “This is so raunchy, ohmygod.”

“Good thing it’s facing the wall,” Jaemin laughs at you shielding in between your legs. He ups the weight, the number looking a lot scarier than anticipated. “Let’s try this then. You should be able to rep 10 of these.”

You shuffle, a bit unconvinced. Taking a breath, you engage the machine, exerting more effort than before but managing to do one rep. Then two, then three all the way up to ten. Enough to challenge you, but not strain you.

Jaemin howls, pinching your cheek as he says, “Look at you go! That was great.”

“Thank you,” you huff, the tingle in your thighs somehow the source of the happiness in your chest. “That was really fun, actually.”

“Isn’t it?” Jaemin smiles, using some paper towel to wipe after the machine for you. “Usually people do about three sets of those. Reps depend on what you want to do - build endurance, muscle strength, all that. But that was really great, I’m so proud of you.”

And you feel proud of yourself too. Having tried something new, feeling unsure but leaning into the feeling. Letting yourself see how far you can extend yourself, pleasantly surprised with the distance. 

So, this was what Jaemin was on about.

You continue your morning like this, getting a personalised tutoring session in how certain machines works and what areas they work out. Jaemin runs through his leg day, since you two were on the hip adduction machine, enjoying more exercises like leg press and goblet squats. By the time you get to the hip thrust machine to try, someone’s occupying it. Jaemin suggests using the squat rack, the scary thing with a long barbell and weights attached to it. Sensing your apprehension, Jaemin lets you know he’s got you, coaching you through the exercise and any queries you may have about movement or positioning. Eventually, it’s your turn to lean against the incline bench and despite your fear, you work your way through 8 hip thrusts. You don’t nearly enjoy it as much as people online talk about it, which Jaemin says,

“That’s perfectly fine. There’s so many exercises that work the same areas. You’ll find one you prefer.” 

Finished for your session, Jaemin asks for you to hold tight while he does some deadlifts. It’s maddening watching him pick up such heavy weights, concentration knitting his eyebrows together with his exposed arms flexing under the tension. Wearing a sleeveless top for the gym in theory is great, but for your mental health? Bad, so bad. 

Because even if your body rings with exhaustion, the kind that’s refreshing and ensures a peaceful slumber, you’re about ready to jump his bone. 

Ill with lust, as you’d joke. 

Jaemin snickers, snapping his waist belt off with one hand, which shouldn’t be sexy but is. Your eyes then trail to the barbell, the memory of Jaemin’s set vivid in your mind.

“Did you wanna try it?” Jaemin asks, reading your mind. “We can start off with no weights. Just the barbell. There’s also different variations of a deadlift, let’s see which one you prefer.”

Out of the three, you pick the most conventional one to start with, teeth sinking into your bottom lip at what you’ve gotten yourself into. Particularly after Jaemin loads weights on each end when you've rehearsed with the barbell.

“Think of the barbell cutting your feet in half - not standing too close so that your shins are touching it and not too far away that you have to lean to grab it,” Jaemin coaches, your feet shuffling into the right position. “Nice. Let’s move onto the hinge movement,”

From behind you, his hands settle onto your hips, pulling them back with him. He pats them, a chuckle left in his wake as he steps to your side to demonstrate without overly being horny. 

Bastard.

“Like you just did, you’ve gotta hinge your hips backwards until you can’t hinge anymore. Then, you’ll move a little into your knees, like a squat almost so you can grab the barbell,” you follow along, the barbell cold against your hands as you blow a breath.

“Great. Keep your body tense, engage your core and glutes. No arch,” his hand hovers over the arch of your back, something teasing in his smile. “Show your chest, keep your head up straight and lift the barbell up. Remember to keep it close to your body before you lower it down with the same hinge movement and movement into your knees.”

You puff out another breath, the same fear you’ve conquered throughout the session whirring in your chest.

“Don’t worry, angel,” Jaemin smiles, moving behind you again with hovered hands around your figure. “I’ve got you. You’ve got you.” 

Again, his words dawn on you. All the power in your hands, a feeling your heart wants nothing more than to run towards as you lift up the barbell, strength personified as you wait at the top of your stance, smiling at the “Let’s fucking go, you’re doing it! You’re doing it, angel!” in your ear. You hinge backwards, the weight knocked down to the floor with no tension on your back as expected.

Once you’re upright again, Jaemin engulfs you in a backhug, lifting your figure off the floor and kissing your neck, drawing giggles out of you. Joy moves through your body like warm light at his excitement that exceeds your own, belief not setting in quite yet.

“I can’t believe you,” he coos, the mirror ahead of you capturing the embrace he holds you in, the elation in his eyes as he does nothing but adore you. Like he’s always done. “Actually, I can. You’ve got a laundry list of things you’re good at. Can you believe it?”

“Not originally,” you admit, the confession somewhat bittersweet. “But after this, I think I’d better have more faith in myself.”

Fondness finds itself in his lips again, a kiss against your cheek as he gently guides you out the way, lifting the barbell onto the rack with his gaze in the mirror directed to yours. 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

And you fall into laughter, helping him slid off the weights before flexing in the mirror like you wanted, finding a different strength in yourself with Jaemin by your side.

[tetsumie]

hey! saw that you were accepting reqs for your 1k event (which congrats btw! so deserved) so was wondering if you could do kuroo w/ the prompt "do you love me?" and let it be hurt/comfort plspls & i couldn't think of an au so uh maybe college au ?? (you can pick the au if you don't feel that one) but yeah tysm and u totally don't need to write it if you're too busy. once again congrats on 1k!

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒

pairing: college student!kuroo x reader

genre: comfort

content: you come home after a long day to find solace in kuroo who reminds you that you're not alone.

cw: feelings of insecurities and late night overthinking thoughts

a/n: hi anon bby sorry for posting this so lateeee i've been in a little slump lately but writing this helped me out of it so i appreciate you lots! enjoy! (also this is lwk self indulgent sooo hahahahaha)

if burn-out could take human form, it would be you.

it's a late friday night when you finally come home from a long shift from your part-time job. the door closes behind you with a quiet click, and you find yourself sliding down against it, your back pressed against the cold wood. your legs are outstretched in front of you, head bowed low, and your arms lie limp at your sides.

god, you're so tired.

"hey," a familiar voice speaks up and pulls you out of your thoughts. "welcome home."

you slightly lift your head and see that he's crouched down beside you, honey-colored eyes looking at you with concern.

you blink in surprise. "tetsu? what are you-"

"your roommate let me in," he cuts you off, as if he anticipated your question. "don't worry, they're not here, they're out for the night."

"oh."

kuroo studies your features with his gaze lingering on the exhaustion etched into your features. you look so worn out and drained.

he can’t help but feel a pang of worry run through his body.

with no hesitation, he scoops you up in his arms which is answered with a surprised yelp from you. "alright you big baby, let's go take a nice bath, yeah?"

you find yourself sitting in front of him with your chest against his back in the bathtub. the scent of the vanilla bath soap fills the air, and the soft glow of candlelight creates a serene ambiance. kuroo’s chest radiates his warmth as he runs reassuring circles on your shoulders.

"you've been so busy lately, hm?" kuroo starts.

you hum in agreement. "yeah, i guess."

he can feel the tension in your body, the weight of you carrying everything. his fingers trace your body: from your delicate shoulders down to your arms, in hopes of easing the heavy weights on your back.

"have you been picking extra shifts at your job?" he asks, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"yeah," you reply, defeated. "my rent isn't gonna pay itself, y'know."

"i know, baby, i know." he gives a tender kiss on your shoulder blade. "i'm glad we could spend some time together today though. you really need a break."

"i'm okay," you say out loud.

are you trying to convince him that you're okay or yourself?

you turn your head to face him and his flushed cheeks are close to yours.

he's so handsome.

without thinking, your hand reaches out to his face, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. he smiles into the kiss, holding you close, refusing to let you go just yet. he lets you cling to him for the rest of the time in the tub as he washes the dirt and tension off your back.

later, as the both of you dry up, kuroo can't help but keep sneaking glances at you.

he knows you’re tired.

he could tell from the moment you were slumped against the front door. he sees it in the distant look in your eyes, the way your mind always seems to be elsewhere, even when you’re together

his whole world (you) was falling apart.

he knew that you were overworking yourself, pushing yourself beyond your limits, and he felt helpless watching it all unfold in front of him.

and to top it off, you’d been avoiding him, making excuses.

something is wrong.

after changing into one of your (his) oversized t-shirts and a pair of shorts, you crawl into bed, patting the space next to you. kuroo takes that as his cue and hops in, beginning to envelop you in his embrace.

your face is in his chest as he's wrapped his big arms around you. you mumble some incoherent words which has him releasing his grip on you.

"what'd you say?" he cocks an eyebrow.

you hesitate, feeling a bit embarrassed to repeat what you said only a few moments prior.

"do you even love me anymore?" you mumble, eyes looking away from him.

he sits up straight now, hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look him in the eye. "what are you even talking about dumbass?"

"i know i haven’t been spending enough time with you and i get if you’re feeling frustrated and annoyed with me…"

he looks at you with a straight face, making him difficult to read.

nonetheless, you continue to pour out your feelings.

"i know i'm a handful and i don't want you to be here because you feel obligated to. i'm sure there are other things that you'd rather be doing right now and i feel bad that you're here when you could be out with your friends doing fun stuff."

your words hang heavy in the air now.

the burden of the past weeks plus the internal guilt you’ve been feeling was finally spoken out into the universe.

it's dead silent and the guilt is suffocating you. you refuse to look up from your lap until he utters out, "so that's what this is about?"

your eyes lift from your fidgeting fingers, widening as you're met with kuroo's piercing, calculating gaze, accompanied by a smirk and a quick flick to your forehead

"ow!" you start rubbing the throbbing part of your head. "what the hell was that for?"

"that was for being a fucking dumbass."

"but i didn't even do anything!"

"you did when you started doubting yourself and letting your insecurities get to you," he says firmly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"i know you’ve been busy and preoccupied lately and that’s okay, yeah? don’t feel bad about being busy, yeah? that should be the least of your worries. i’m here to pick our relationship up when it gets too heavy for you."

guilt washes over you, mingling with the love you feel for him.

he’s so understanding, so patient... you don’t feel worthy of him.

and almost as if he could read your mind, he keeps going.

"i’ll say this as many times as you need me to: i’ve never felt 'obligated' to be with you or whatever that bullshit means. i’m here because i want to be, not because i have to. i love you, and i want to be here for you."

he looks down at you with your eyes looking up at him. his heart skips a beat at the sight. you look so adorable right now with your a slight pout enveloping your features. he can't help but let a smile escape his lips.

"i’m here because i love you,” he repeats, his voice steady and sincere. “have i not told you how much you mean to me enough?"

you shake your head, immediately. "n-no! you always tell me!"

"i just have been really been in my feelings lately and i've been just trying to keep myself occupied so i don't start spiraling," you look away from kuroo.

"and that's okay, yeah?" he strokes your hair. "no matter what, i promise i’ll try my best to be there for you. i want to be here for you."

he kisses the top of your head. "i love you, my pretty. don't you ever forget that."

you wrap your arms around his neck and start peppering his face with small kisses. before you know it, you're lying on top of him now and your faces are only mere centimeters apart from one another. you can feel his breath on your chin and the lingering scent of his cologne infiltrate your nostrils.

"i’m sorry i haven’t been around you more," you whisper, guilt still gnawing at you.

"it's okay, my love. i promise," he reassures you once more. "i'm glad i could be here."

"i love you, stupid," you tell him, placing a quick kiss on your lips.

"i know," he laughs, pulling you back to his lips and letting you go for a quick second. "i love you too." and he continues to kiss you and hold you for the rest of the night until the sun rises.

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved

[iwasntstable]

n.s. | if i'm there

🗀 C:/PROJECTS/MYWORK/ONESHOT/IFIMTHERE [projects] ﹂ [my-work] | in-progress | favourites 　﹂ all | series | [one-shot] | blurb | head-cannons | ask 　　﹂ fear-of-failure | nightmare | never-just-friends 　　　 stay-til-morning | new-neighbour | [if-im-there]

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

➔𝐢𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞➔➔　𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘈𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦!+　　[𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐀𝐎𝟯]

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help / And I just left you to be all by yourself / And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well / But I just came back to see how hard you fell Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall / You'll have a friend down in Hell after all 　　— If I'm There - Bad Omens

summary: when things start getting bad, you withdraw. ignoring calls and texts, and descending into bad habits as you self-isolate. but noah knows what you're like and he loves you too much to let you suffer alone.

content tags: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, poor mental health, mentions of disordered eating, discussions of food, self-destructive behaviour, fluff.

word count: 3.8k.

note: having a rough time recently so enjoy the self-indulgent product of my stressing. 　　PS: please tell me if the layout of this post is fucked up so I can fix it for you.

Things are getting bad again. You find your sleep schedule sliding later and later, falling asleep in the early hours of the morning and waking in the afternoon, bypassing the day altogether. Meals are becoming infrequent and poor in quality. Appetite dwindling and opting to eat half a bag of microwave rice at 3am rather than dedicating time to creating a nutritious and satisfying meal. Truth be told, you didn’t have the energy to cook anything more, and the malnutrition itself likely played a part in that lack of energy. The trash was left to build up, and the laundry hadn’t been done in weeks.

The progression of all of this was gradual. So gradual, that by the time you recognised what was happening, it was all but too late to stop the rapid descent into your depression. And as the days go by, you start to withdraw into yourself. Messages from friends begin to go unanswered. You tell yourself you’ll reply later, when you have the mental bandwidth to engage in conversation. But later ends up being not at all. Too many days have passed, and you feel like it’s too late to reply now; you don’t know how. That includes your boyfriend.

　　　　　　　　　　　[Noah 💘]

　　　　　　 　　　　　Tuesday 　　　　　　　　　 　　10:45AM

— Morning! Do you wanna call later?    Miss your voice 

          morning! I have a headache —             right now and I feel like it's             not gonna go away :( I'll let                you know though.                 I miss you too ❤️ —

— Aw I'm sorry :( — I hope you feel better soon — Text me later and let me know    how you are ❤️

　　　　　　　　　 　　02:27PM

— Hey babe how are you feeling?

             my head still hurts :( —

— Want me to come over and look    after you? — Have you eaten yet?

       you don't have to do that, I'd be —            shitty company anyway                   just wanna sleep —

— Okay :( — I'll text you later tonight so    you can sleep

　　　　　　　　　 　　10:09PM

— How are you feeling? — Are you sleeping? — Hope you’re resting well. Text    me when you wake up so I know    you’re okay — I love you ❤️ — Goodnight ❤️

　　　　　　 　　　　Wednesday 　　　　　　　　　 　　08:41AM

— Morning, how’re you feeling?

　　　　　　　　　 　　09:13AM

— Are you awake? — Babe, are you okay?

      hey! sorry I was still asleep. I feel a —       little better but my head still hurts :(

— I’m gonna cancel today and come    over — I don’t want you to be alone when    you’re not well 

       no don’t do that, i’m okay really —              you know this happens          sometimes. I just wanna rest,            you don’t have to cancel for        me. not when work is important

— You’re important too — Please let me look after you

          I love you and I love that —           you want to be here for me,         but all I want to do right now                   is sleep

          I don’t want you to cancel —           important schedules just           to watch me sleep all day                I’ll feel better soon.             just need to give it time. —

— I’d cancel to sit and watch you sleep    in a heartbeat — I love you, I just want you to be okay — I have to go, I’ll text you later okay?

         I’ll text you back when I can, —            if I don’t reply I’m probably          asleep so don’t worry have a                good day I love you —

　　　　　　　　　 　　10:26PM

— Hey babe sorry I didn’t text all day I    was so fucking busy — How’re you doing now? — Are you sleeping again?

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 10:31PM]

— Text or call me when you wake up,    even if it’s the middle of the night I’ll    leave my sound on — I love you ❤️

　　　　��　 　　   　　Thursday 　　　　　　　　　 　　08:41AM

— Hey, are you awake?

　　　　　　　　　 　　08:55AM

— Hello??

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 08:59AM]

— Message me when you wake up

　　　　　　　　　 　　12:20PM

— Babe?? — I’m worried — Even if you don’t wanna talk can     you please let me know you’re okay?

　　　　　　　　　 　　12:46PM

— Babe please answer me

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 12:48PM]

　　　　　　　　　 　　01:20PM

     hey, sorry I missed your messages —         I’m okay sorry for worrying you —

— I was just about to come over — I still might — I’m worried about you

           please don’t I just don’t —          wanna see anyone right now

— Even me?

                  I’m sorry —             I’ll text you tomorrow — — If that’s what you want — I love you

　　　　　　　 　   　　　Friday 　　　　　　　　　 　　03:47PM

— I don’t want to bother you, I’m     trying to give you space if that’s    what you need — But I’m worried about you — You haven’t messaged me all day — Did I do something wrong?

　　　　　　　　　 　　04:10PM

— Babe please answer me

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:12PM]

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:15PM]

　　　　　　　　　 　　04:18PM

— Your friends said they haven’t heard    from you in days — What’s going on? You can talk to me. — You don’t have to talk to me if you    don’t want to but text someone back,    please — I just wanna know that you’re okay

　　　　　　　[MISSED CALL: 04:23PM]

And that’s how Noah ended up outside your door. Banging incessantly and shouting your name through the wood. You could hear him from where you were wrapped up in bed, but you were half hoping he would just drop it and go away. Realising quickly, however, the futility of that hope when you heard another voice join the sound of his. That of your neighbour, the nosy one from the house on the right.

You groan and throw the blanket off yourself, flinching a little when your feet touch the cold floor. You have no choice but to go downstairs, and no time to change your appearance. Hoping to whatever God will listen that Noah doesn’t make a comment on the clothes you’d been wearing for the past week before you can get in the shower and change.

“I’m just really worried about her,” you can hear the unmistakable tone of Noah’s voice through the door before you even open it.

Hesitating for a moment with your hand on the door handle, you decide to eavesdrop on the conversation. “I haven’t seen her for, ohhh let me think... has to be about a week now,” despite the man’s voice wavering with age, it came loud and clear through the door. An unfortunate side effect of his hearing loss.

“A week?!” Noah exclaimed. Having enough of the old man sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong, you unlock the door quickly, wrenching it open and taking a surprised Noah by the arm.

“Oh! Nice to see you, dear. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The old man sneers.

“Yeah, nice seeing you, Trevor,” you barely extend him a glance as you drag Noah in through your doorway, slamming the door closed and turning the key. You let out a deep sigh, your palms and forehead resting against the cool wood.

Noah calls your name softly. You squeeze your eyes tight and take in a breath before you turn to face him. Putting on the best phoney smile you can muster.

“Sorry about him, he’s always in everyone’s business. What are you-”

“He said he hasn’t seen you in a week,” he says matter-of-factly. There’s no hint of a smile on his face. “Your friends said they haven’t heard from you in days either, and you’ve been ignoring my texts. And calls.”

Your heart seizes at the sadness in his eyes. He stands there in your front room, his usual sweatpants and hoodie, but he just looks so defeated. You always tell him he looks like an upset puppy when he’s sad, and the puppy-dog eyes are working overtime on you right now. “I told you, I’ve just been busy, and I-”

“And you had a headache, and you missed my texts, and you didn’t want to talk,” his voice was as stern as his expression. You knew he wasn’t an idiot. That there’s no way he’d believe your—at best—flimsy excuses. You stand frozen to the spot, fiddling with the edge of your sleeve. Picking at the stitches, trying to distract yourself from the lump forming in your throat. “Aren’t you going to say anything?” Noah questions.

You swallow roughly, “I don’t know what you... I don’t-”

He says your name firmly and takes a step towards you, “I’m going to ask you how you are, and I would like you to answer me honestly.”

Feeling your heart begin to race in your chest, you swallow again, but it does nothing to get rid of the tightness in your throat. Or the dizziness creeping up on you.

“Are you doing bad again?” He sounds softer this time, and you almost wish he would just scream at you because when he’s kind and attentive like this, you can’t help but crumble and shut down.

You clench your jaw as your breathing gets quicker, shallower, and you feel the unmistakable burn of tears in your eyes. “I’m fine,” your voice comes out cracked and weak, not at all the sound of someone who's fine. 

“Don’t pretend you’re okay. Please don’t lie to me, because I know you’re not okay!” Noah crosses the room to meet you, holding his hands outstretched towards you, “what can I do for you? Please, I want to help.”

You cover your mouth as you choke back a sob, wrapping your other arm around your middle; you can’t hold it in anymore, and the floodgates open. Gasping for breath that seems to never come, you grip the front of your shirt tight in your fist, the clothing suddenly feeling suffocating and stiflingly hot.

“Oh, baby. Come here,” Noah takes you by the shoulders and pulls you into his chest, where you fall into him and cling onto him like he’s your only lifeline. “I need you to breathe for me, okay? Slowly, in and out,” he strokes soothing circles against your back as he demonstrates to you how to breathe. “Come and sit down here, yeah? The couch is right here.”

You barely register your legs moving for the numbness extending across your entire body, from your fingertips all the way down to your toes. Your tears are hot on your face, and every time you try to wipe them away, they’re just replaced by more in a never-ending stream. The room feels like it’s spinning around you as you move, only worsening the feeling of nausea rising in your throat. The plush cushions of the couch are a welcome relief.

“You’re holding your breath, I need you to breathe. Just how I am, that’s it,” he cradles your head to his chest through your shaky attempts to take in a breath through your nose and let it out slowly through your mouth. Your breath hitches uncontrollably with every inhale, taking in tiny bursts of air at a time. Noah, though, has nothing but praise on his lips: “That’s it. You’re doing so well, just listen to my voice.”

You missed his voice. As you worsened and withdrew, you found any excuse to avoid going out to see him, and you had been ignoring his calls for days. You knew you were doing it, and you missed him desperately, but with every day that passed, you found it harder and harder to reach out. It was hard for you to reach out for help in the first place, hard for you to admit to anyone that you needed help. Hard to admit it to yourself. Opting instead to suffer in silence and just push through it until you finally broke. You didn’t know any other way.

The familiar presence of him by your side eases the pace of your racing heart, allowing each breath to come a little easier. A little calmer. “I hate to see you hurting like this,” he whispers into your hair, his hand stroking through it gently, working to soothe the seemingly unquenchable anxiety. “I want to help you, please let me help you.”

It broke your heart to hear the pain in his voice. You never wanted to hurt him, but that’s all you seem to do. That cold hand of dread tightens its grip on your chest again, panic filling your lungs and replacing all the air. “I’m sorry,” you barely choke out, gripping onto Noah tighter. Warring with yourself, wanting to hold him close, but feeling like you need to push him away.

“You don’t need to apologise, ever. I’m here, I’m right here,” he runs his hand up and down your back, cradling you close. He can’t help but notice that through the fabric of your shirt, the bones of your spine are ever so slightly more prominent than before. He keeps his mouth shut. Focussing instead on quelling your distress and holding you tight in his arms. 

“I just- I fuck everything up. I can’t do anything right, I don’t deserve your love, I don’t deserve you-” Once you start talking, you can’t stop, finally letting it all out until Noah cuts you off, incapable of hearing you degrade yourself anymore.

“No. No, that’s not even remotely true. Don’t say that about yourself,” he says firmly, holding you just a little tighter. 

You shake your head against him, “all I do is hurt people and push you away, and I don’t know how to stop. You don’t deserve that, you shouldn’t have to put up with me.”

“I don’t ‘put up with you’. I love you, and I want to be here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need it.”

“You shouldn’t have to drop everything to come deal with me when you’re so busy. You deserve someone that isn’t so fucking hard to love.”

With that, Noah pushes you backwards by the shoulders, holding you there so he can look into your eyes when he speaks. “You are not hard to love. Loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever had the privilege of doing. You just…” He takes a deep breath, cupping your cheek and brushing away the tears from under your eyes. “You just need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

The image of him blurs when the tears overflow from your eyes again, your face crumpling as you bow your head. “You’ll leave me," your voice shaking with the force of your sobs.

"Why would you ever think I'd leave you?" he asks, dismayed by your fear.

"Everyone always leaves," you tell him, voice brittle and quiet, shaking your head. "It's only a matter of time before you leave too."

"I love you," Noah feels tears prick at his own eyes. "I love you so, so much. And I'm not going anywhere." He lifts your head, once again brushing away your tears so he can look into your eyes, "please trust me to help you."

"I'm just so tired," you confess, and he pulls you into his arms again. 

“I can't promise to fix all your problems, but I can promise you won't have to face them alone. There’s nothing you could do that would drive me away. And the things that would, I know you’d never do,” he runs a comforting hand through your hair as you cry, his other arm secure around your waist. Your tears soak into his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He wants you to give it all to him—all your sorrows, all your grief—so that he can bear it with you.

You desperately want to believe his words. To lean on him when you need him the most, but that insecure piece inside of you won’t let you yield. You don’t know how to open up to anyone without feeling like a burden.

Noah stays right there with you until the tears subside and your breathing evens out. Your head resting in his lap as he reassuringly strokes your hair, you feel the beginnings of a dull ache in your head that makes you drowsy. He rubs soothing circles into your back with his other hand, shifting slightly to get a better look at your face. “Have you eaten yet today?” He asks tentatively. Feeling your throat constrict under the pressure of guilt, you know you can’t lie to him. You know he sees right through you, so you decide to try being honest by shaking your head. “Want me to cook something for you? Or we can order something? My treat.”

You know he means well, but you don’t know how to say you don’t have an appetite without worrying him. He won’t let you go the entire day without eating, but all you want to do is sleep.

“Please talk to me,” he pleads, “I need to hear you.”

On a shaky breath, you settle for a half truth. “I don’t think there’s anything to cook.”

“That’s fine, we can order food then. What do you want?”

Chewing on your lip, you freeze. The silence stretches on far too long for you to be deciding what restaurant to order from, it’s clear you’re unable to answer.

Noah sighs your name, “you have to eat something.” 

“I know. I just… I just don’t want to,” he remains quiet, waiting for you to continue. “I don’t feel hungry. Thinking about it is overwhelming. I just want to sleep so I don’t have to think about it.”

“What have you been eating these past few days?” He asks cautiously, his tone light. Conscious to not sound accusatory.

You sigh, knowing there’s no way of escaping this. “Microwave stuff, mostly,” you play with the fabric of his sweatpants, feeling his leg underneath, fidgeting your anxiety away. “Rice, oats, ramen. Stuff I don’t have to wash up after.”

“Have you been eating every day?”

The question hangs heavy in the air, the tension only thickening when you answer "no,” barely above a whisper.

You feel him nod. Quiet for a moment until he too speaks so quietly, you almost didn’t hear it. “You can’t go on like this.”

“I know,” you confess.

“Please let me help you.”

The desperation in his voice is what does it—the final straw. You sit up straight, turning to face him. Wiping the residual tears from your cheeks and looking him in the eye. You know it’s time to really be honest. 

“It’s hard for me-” Your voice catches in your throat as the threat of crying again creeps up on you, not quite realising how much your body would resist. Taking a second to compose yourself—a deep breath in, eyes closed, releasing it slowly—your resolve strengthens and you continue. “It’s hard for me to open up to people. To admit when I’m struggling. I’m so used to feeling like I’m burdening everyone with my problems, so I just keep it all to myself. And by the time I realise I’m going down that road again, it’s too late to stop it.”

“It’s never too late,” Noah says reassuringly, tucking both sides of your hair behind your ears—the left first, then the right. “I mean this in the most loving way possible, but you don’t get to decide whether you’re a burden. You don’t get to take that choice away from me. The choice to help you. Your problems will never be a burden to me, no matter how big or small. You will never be a burden to me. I love you. I choose you. And I’ll never think poorly of you for needing help, ever.”

You don’t know what to say. Your eyes fixed on his. One of your favourite things about him is his big brown eyes. Always so full of comfort. So full of love that even you, with all of your self-doubt, can’t deny it. “I’m sorry. I know you said not to apologise, but I think I need to. I’m sorry for making you worry and for pushing you away. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Noah takes your hands in his. Large palms enveloping your own entirely. “Seeing you hurting is what hurts me the most. I love you so much, all I want is for you to be happy and healthy.”

You squeeze his hands in yours, “I love you, Noah. I’ll try harder, I promise. Feeling so unwanted for so long before I met you, I think I didn’t realise just how lucky I am to have you until now.” Noah raises one of your hands, kissing the back firmly and holding it there, savouring the feel of your skin against his lips. Timidly, you ask, “can we get pizza?”

He breaks out into a smile, “of course we can! But you have to text your friends back first," he bargains, "even if it’s just something short.”

“Deal,” you can’t help but return his smile. “My phone is upstairs, I’m just gonna go get it.”

“Wait!” he calls as you stand, pulling you back to the sofa and into him with a hand on the back of your head, “can I kiss you first?”

Without a word, you lean into him, closing the gap between you and feeling his lips on yours for the first time in weeks. That familiar burn of tears threatening to escape your eyes returns, and when you pull away, those beautiful brown eyes are full of concern.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, laughing awkwardly, “happy tears. I just missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” his smile taking on a more solemn appearance this time. “But I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, please don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t forget that I love you too. No matter what happens. No matter how stupidly self-destructive I act.”

Noah pulls you in for one final embrace before letting you retrieve your phone. You spend time texting back each of your friends, apologising for your absence and telling them you were okay, that Noah is here, and you’d explain more later. Noah, sitting at your right, creates your pizza order, periodically asking what else you’d like adding.

The two of you spend the night watching trash TV, settling into your usual comfort and hurling insults at the characters for making stupid decisions while you eat your food. Only realising after it arrived just how hungry you really were. And when you’re finished eating, Noah and you head upstairs.

You feel like a new person after you shower, coming out of the bathroom to find Noah relaxed against your headboard. The sheets on your bed changed, and a fresh set of clothes lay waiting for you to change into for bed.

Accepting finally how much lighter everything feels when someone is around to help you. You slide under the clean sheets, comforted by the warmth of Noah’s body beside you for the first time in too long. And just as you fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat and the feeling of his hand stroking your back, you’re determined to never let things get this bad again. Knowing you need to trust him, because trust is the foundation of love, and you love Noah with every fibre of your being. And despite how hard it is sometimes, you need to let him love you back.

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

✉ C:/SYSTEM/APP/TAG

ᯤ 𝗨𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗦 (21) :　 ⌞⬤ 7 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning | @english-fucker @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard | @seven-glass-kids @runadaggerthroughmychest

@lma1986 | @shayzillaaaa

⌞⬤ 5 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒⌝ @madamaaubergine | @thewrstinme | @amourtoken @livingdeceasedgirl | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

⌞⦵ 5 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻⌝ @xcllnt | @romanreigns-supreme | @slutforcoffein @deathofpeaceofmindem | @lovesick-evangelist

⌞◯ 4 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾⌝ @bluestdai | @fadingangelwisp | @broken0mens @ferduttini

　+[MSG : join the taglist!]

╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌╌

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sit Next To Me

Chapter 1: To a Good Fucking Semester.

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

...Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Very proud of myself for getting my own thing out of my google docs and onto the internet for once. This is very self indulgent and possibly a little ooc, but it's an AU so who cares?

Also, biggest shout out in the world to @hivemuthur. I am the biggest fan of their writing and I'm obsessed with their fic The Game of Teaching Body. I hadn't even considered writing a college au until I read Teaching Body and now I'm fully in it. I've really regained my love for writing fanfic for myself as opposed to an audience and it's definitely because of them. Anyways, all love to them and if you haven't already, go read everything that they've written asap!

Another Author Note: No smut in this chapter, but chapter 2 is already posted ;)

Read on AO3

You were going to take this semester seriously. Your 5th of your college career, first of Junior year, this was the time to get serious. If you fuck up now, the chances of having to take an extra semester went up by an uncomfortable percentage. Yeah, you were going to take this semester very very seriously…key word were. Then Jayce and Cait decided to throw a party at their house. A huge ‘welcome back’ thing that was sure to be very fun and very well attended. Jayce was one of your closest friends, it would be offensive honestly if you didn’t show up to his first party of the year. Syllabi reviews and practice tests could wait until Sunday. 

You dug through your small closet in search of something to wear that hadn’t already been worn to a dozen other house parties. At this point half your clothing was pulled off their hangers and tossed on your bed. You pulled a light blue baby tee off a hanger, the low neckline was lined with a hint of lace.

“How’s this?” You held the shirt up to show Lest, already ready and scrolling through her phone

“Very cute,” Her freckled face looking at you upside down, “Not with that skirt, though.” She pointed to the button up denim skirt you had put on earlier.

“With what then?” You pulled on the top. 

“Must I dress you everyday,” Lest whined half heartedly.

“Well, yeah. What other reason would I willingly live with a fashion major?” You joked.

“Because you’re in love with me, obviously,” She scoffed, rolling off her bed and straightening her dress as she stood, “Do you still have those black shorts? The boxy ones with the high waist?”

“Er, yes…” You said hesitantly, opening a dresser drawer and digging through your pants until you found them. Next to you Lest began putting your clothes back on their hangers, “Yes, I do.”

You stripped off your skirt, handing it to Lest when she reached for it to hang up, and pulled on the shorts. You looked at yourself in the mirror, content enough with the outfit. It was a little boring, but at least it was comfortable.

“And lose the bra,” Lest poking the side of your boob, looking at you over your shoulder in the mirror, “Trust me.”

You purse your lips in the mirror, but shrugged and took the  suggestion anyways. Reaching behind your back to unclip your bra and toss it to the side.

“Better?” You asked, posing dramatically for her.

“Perfect,” She gave you a dramatic smile, her nose scrunching, “Now grab your stuff, the Uber will be here in 5.”

“Oh, fuck Lest, I’m not ready.” You whined, scrambling around your room to grab your things.

“Well get ready then, we have a party to get to!” She opened your door and gave a cheeky wave over her shoulder as she disappeared into the hallway. 

The party was in full swing when you and Lest reached Jayce and Cait’s house. The front yard was mostly empty, only a few stragglers wandering in and out, but the bass of the music could be felt from the street and colorful lights flashed in the front window. A sudden spark of excitement twisted in your stomach. It had been months since you last spent actual time with most of your friends. You had seen a handful of them in passing during this first week of classes, but you quickly realized that the free hours you had between classes didn’t line up with anyone else's. You missed your people and couldn't wait for another year with them by your side. 

You grabbed Lest by the hand, walking quicker up to the front door. You shoved open the door as much as you could, a wall of awkward freshmen hovering at the entrance blocking the way. You could feel the beat of a Pitbull song in your throat as you moved through the house. You opened the closet under the stairs, a hasty “Housemates Only” sign taped to the door. You and Lest were included in this of course, as were a handful of other friends close to Jayce and Cait. The bags tossed on the floor told you exactly who was here already. You added yours to the mix and continued to push through sweaty bodies in search of your friends. 

You found them in the kitchen. Mel was sitting on the counter, Jayce leaning against the edge between her legs, his back pressed against her chest. Cait was securely under Vi’s arm, hiding her laugh behind the red cup in her hand. You were surprised to see that even Sky had shown up, awkwardly sipping at a can of seltzer and hovering next to Jayce. 

When Mel spotted you pushing through the other people in the kitchen she gasped! Excitedly pushing Jayce away so she could hop off the counter. She squealed your name, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and squeezing harder than a girl her height should be able to. She pulled away and put her forehead to yours, widening her eyes with a dumb grin.

“Hi, Melly-Bear!” You giggled, glad she always kept up with the same silly greeting, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Her pretty accent only slightly slurred on alcohol. You could smell something fruity on her breath.

She pulled away, giving you one more hug before letting you go to greet the others. Jayce hugged you as Mel accosted Lest next. 

“Thought you bailed on us,” Jayce laughed, pulling a can out of the ice filled sink and popping it open before handing it to you. Always a gentleman. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You practically had to shout over the music, “Wardrobe struggles.”

“That’s what you landed on?” Jayce teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually it’s what Lest landed on,” You snarked up at him, “Don’t insult the love of my life.”

“I think your outfit is cute!” Sky slurred, looking around Jayce, her cheeks were flushed already. She was definitely drunker than you had thought she was, “and your tits look amazing.”

“Thank you very much Sky,” You said with exaggerated politeness, and then quietly to Jayce, “She’s fucked up.”

“I know, we’re keeping an eye on her,” He nodded, pulling a beer out of the sink behind you.

“Who’s sober tonight?” You asked as Mel rejoined you and wrapped an arm around Jayce’s waist.

“That would be me,” Vi said across from you, raising a half hearted hand.  

““Drew the short straw, huh? Tragic,” Lest said, shaking her head with mock pity.

“She can have fun sober,” Cait insisted, pointedly taking a sip of her own drink.

“Exactly!” You teased, “Well you have your sober fun, the rest of us are gonna do tequila shots.”

“Brilliant idea!” Mel gasped, clasping her hands together.

She got to work, pulling out plastic shot glasses from the cupboard and carefully filling them with the shitty tequila Jayce kept around for when everyone was already drunk. Cait opened the fridge behind her, the bright light from it jarring in the dark kitchen, and pulled out a tupperware of cut up lime. She passed the container and a shaker of salt around, and Mel handed out the little cups, making sure Sky received the one with cold water in it.

“Hey Vi, where’s Jinx and Ekko?” You asked as you took a piece of lime, realizing the youngest members of your little group were missing.

“They’re at that concert,” She told you, taking Cait’s cup so she could hold her shot.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realize it was tonight.” You said, licking the back of your hand and shaking salt onto it.

“Lame, they definitely would have had more fun here,” Mel sighed dramatically, setting down the container of limes and salt after everyone had gotten some. 

“Wait, where’s V?” Jayce asked Cait, she shrugged.

“Who?” Lest asked, taking a small sniff of the tequila and scrunching her nose.

“Viktor, he’s our new roommate,” Jayce said, “I’ve known him forever. He’s the best, y’all will like him.”

He turned looking out into the crowd of people on the other side of the breakfast bar, squinting like that would actually help him find the guy.

“Viktor!” He shouted, when there was no response he tsked, “probably snuck off to his room. Not really a party guy.” Jayce told you with a shrug, “Next time, I guess.”

Your circle of friends gathered a little closer, excited to be all back together again after the boring summer months. Jayce held up his shot, everyone else followed suit.

“To a good fucking semester!” He said triumphantly.

“To a good fucking semester!” Everyone shouted back, lifting their shots just a little higher before licking the salt off their hands and shooting, a round of groans following as they bit into the limes. The fruit did nothing to make the shitty tequila taste any better.  

“Yeah, not feelin’ too bad about being the sober one right now,” Vi grimaced, sipping on an energy drink instead. 

Lest grabbed you by the hand, pulling you to the living room where all of the furniture had been pushed against the walls. With your drink still in hand, you moved with her to the beat of the music. Your focus on each other keeping away any unwanted attention in the crowded space. The other joined you eventually, Sky sliding up to you and Lest. You put your hands on her hips - stiff even when she was drunk - you pulled her closer to you. Lest moved so Sky was between you and her. Sky’s face reddened, the drinks and closeness making her blush creep all the way up to her pretty hairline.

“I’m glad you came out,” You leaned in close so she could hear you, “This is your first party right?”

“Yeah,” She shouted back, beginning to loosen up in your hands, “I’m…I’m so drunk.” She admitted, you could see the apology behind her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” You told her, “Everyone gets too fucked up the first time they go out, it’s inevitable.”

“Really?” She asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, of course,” You nodded, leaning in further to talk in her ear, your cheek rubbing against hers, “At my first party, I got so drunk off canned wine that I took my bra off and tossed it in someone's pool.”

“No!” She gasped, pulling back slightly to see if you were lying.

“Yep, everyone has to pay their dues to the party gods,” You shrugged, feeling Lest’s hand brush against yours on Sky’s waist, “So don’t worry about being too drunk. Just relax and let yourself have fun. Vi is the responsible one tonight, she won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sky nodded, relaxing into you and Lest. Time blurred as the three of you danced. Mel and Jayce and Cait and Vi somewhere close by. Each song faded into the next, only your favorites standing out. Sometimes the beat of the song would pull you away from Sky and Lest, the three of you wanting more room to dance and move. Others pulled you flush against Sky’s back, your hips grinding against her to the rhythm of the song. The only moments where you stopped dancing was when your drink needed to be replaced. 

Your body was aching by the time Sky stopped moving, breathing heavily.

“I’m gonna go get water,” She shouted over the music, “It’s so hot in here.”

“Okay, do you want someone to go with you?” You asked, still lightly moving to the beat.

“No, I’m okay,” She laughed, shaking her head, “I think I’m gonna take a break…forever.”

“Okay, find us or text the group chat if you need anything, okay?” She grinned and gave a thumbs up as she snaked through the crowd back towards the kitchen. 

You swished your drink around in its can, debating if you wanted another or not.  A heavy hand landed on your shoulder, interrupting the thought. You gasped, yanking your shoulder away and whipping around angrily to whoever grabbed you. 

“Easy there tiger,” Jayce laughed, side eyeing you , “Have you considered this is why you’re single.”

“Have you considered my boot in your ass?” You snapped, but relaxed your shoulders anyways.

“No, but I have considered kicking your ass at rage cage,” He shrugged.

“In your dreams, Talis” You scoffed, following him to the dining table.

Mel was arranging a large cluster of plastic cups on the table, Cait and Vi already cracking cans and pouring a little bit into each. Some freshmen were hanging around, hesitant to join the game. Mel picked up a half empty cup from the center, extending it out to you.

“Your contribution?” She asked, as you peered into the cup. It was already a cloudy mix of beer and seltzer and backwash. You tipped the remnants of your can into the cup. She went around, having the freshman pour bits of their own drinks into the Bitch Cup. 

“Anyone allergic to cinnamon?” Jayce asked, holding up a handle of Fireball with a smirk.

“Ew, why do you even have that?” You grimaced as he poured a shot into the cup.

“What? You don’t fuck with Fireball and Dr.Pepper?” He asked, tilting another shot into the cup.

“Nobody should,” You fake gagged, “But go ahead and keep pouring it in if you love it so much, you’ll be the one drinking it.”

“Delusional,” Jayce shrugged, setting himself up at the other side of the table, tossing one ping pong ball to you and testing the bounce of the other, “You're delusional.”

Mel began explaining the rules to the couple of freshies that hadn’t played before. They nodded with false confidence.

“Wait, where’s V?” He asked, standing up straight and looking around the crowd for his elusive friend again.

“He was here a minute ago,” Violet told him, looking around as well. At this point you weren't sure that he wasn’t a made up guy.

“He keeps disappearing,” Jayce pouted, and then to you, competitive air completely gone in the moment, “I wanted you to meet him. He’s cool, you’ll get along.”

“Jayce, babe, he’s probably out making new friends on his own,” Mel laughed, “You know, that thing people do at parties.”

“Boo, lame. He needs to be friends with all of my friends, first,” Jaye pouted, and then without warning snatched up one of the perimeter cups, downed the contents, and began trying to bounce the ball into it. 

“Oh, fuck you!” You yelped, grabbing a cup and drinking it so quickly you barely tasted what it was. It was cheap beer. The aftertaste clung to the back of your throat, making you cringe as you tried to get the ball in the cup before the other one caught up.

You blinked down at the complete stack of cups in front of you, horrified at the outcome of this game. Jayce shook with laughter across from you, bracing himself on the dining room table. 

“I was set up!” You insisted, gesturing to the freshman that had set the cup to the right of you every time they got it in on the first try, “I don’t even know these kids and they were against me the whole time! What’d you do, Talis? Pay them?”

“Don’t accuse me of bribery!” He gasped, mock offended as he wiped tears away, “This is what you get for being cocky.”

“Fuck you, man, this is misogyny!” You crossed your arms over your chest, pouting.

“Sure is! Now, drink the Bitch Cup like a lady,” He smirked, extending the nearly overflowing red cup. 

You peered into the cup, nauseous spit flooding the back of your mouth at the cloudy liquid. At the look on your face, Jayce hesitated.

“I mean, I like fireball, I don’t mind helping you out,” He could barely hide his cringe as he offered to help. 

“No way,” You snapped, taking the cup. You'd rather have a hangover from hell than anyone's pity, “I’m not a pussy.”

You took a deep breath and began to drink from the cup. Tilting it back as much as you could without dumping it all over yourself. The girls were chanting your name, urging you on. The taste was awful, the burn of the whiskey was worse. Cinnamon and sour beer overpowered your senses as you drained the cup, breathing in through your nose. Little streams of liquid dripped down the corners of your mouth as you neared the bottom. You finished it off with a shudder. Gasping and fighting back the urge to gag, your stomach turning.

 “I’m gonna get water,” You grimaced, dropping the empty cup into the stack instead of dinging it off Jayce’s head like you wanted to

“Proud of you!” Jayce teased as you walked away, you flipped him off with both hands as you backed into the kitchen.

At this point in the night Jayce’s house was at max capacity, and the kitchen was especially crowded. You pushed through people to get to the counter, searching for a clean cup. Only the plastic bag they had come in was left behind, red cups scattered around the counter with varying amounts of liquid in them.

“Animals,” You muttered, huffing at the lack of options and incredible waste. 

You pushed through the crowd again, trying to get to the far side of the kitchen to get a glass instead. You found Sky sitting on the counter, taking down to someone leaning on the counter next to her, a solo cup in her hand. 

“Sky! My sweet baby angel,” You gasped, sliding between her knees and wrapping your arms around her waist in a tight hug. You could feel the liquor from the bitch cup throwing you off balance. You reached up, cupping her face in your hands, “Promise me you will never ever play a drinking game, you’re too good for that.”

Sky giggled, pressing her face to your palm. She didn’t seem any less drunk than earlier.

“That’s water right?” You nodded to the cup in her hand, leaning away from her and bringing your hands down to her knees.

“Yep,” She nodded, extending the cup towards your face, “Want a sip?”

You let her tip some into your mouth, accepting the drink mostly to confirm that it was actually water. Luckily it was.

“Thanks babe,” You said, pulling away and wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You suddenly remembered she had been talking to someone before you walked up, “But, I’m gonna get my own.”

You looked over to who she was talking to and found yourself a little surprised. He wasn’t someone you recognized, but he looked too old to be a freshman. What really threw you off was the fact that he was intimidatingly beautiful. Even in the low lighting he had the most gorgeous amber eyes and a bone structure that rivaled any model. You realized not only were you caught off guard, but now you were staring. Sky didn’t notice she continued talking about whatever they had been talking about before you showed up, but he did. A small motion of his brows, perfect eyes narrowing just slightly. 

You threw walls up, trying to cover your embarrassment with attitude. You leaned in just slightly, narrowing your eyes as you looked up at him and reached up towards his shoulder. Judging by the way he shifted back slightly, his eyes glancing to your hand with just a little bit of confusion, you were able to trip him up just the same. 

“S’cuse me, Pretty Boy,” You said, your lips forming a crooked smile, “Just tryna’ get a glass.”

His mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape and he stepped over quickly, leaning against Sky’s legs. You opened the cabinet and pulled out a glass. Not acknowledging him as you went through the motions, but very aware of where he was. You grabbed Sky’s knee before walking away.

“Find me if you wanna dance again, okay?” You told her, she gave a squinty smile and nodded before you walked away. 

You heard Jayce’s voice in your head. Have you considered this is why you’re single?

It was just after midnight and the party still showed no real signs of slowing. You and Jayce had tapped out on drinking but were still having a good time. You both leaned near the back door, watching the others play a round of beer pong. Lest and Mel had teamed up against Cait and Vi and unfortunately, due to Vi’s soberness,were getting crushed. You laughed as another ball splashed into a cup on Lest and Mel’s side. 

“Nooo!” Lest whined dramatically, dragging her hands down her perfect face. She picked up the cup anyways, downing the contents and setting it to the side. 

“I think we’re rooting for the wrong team here,” Jayce laughed in the middle of your conversation, swirling red gatorade around in his cup, 

“Hey, unless I’m playing, I don’t take sides,” You held your hands up in defence. 

You and Jayce both looked up at the ceiling pretending to be really interested in the lights when Lest and Mel turned to glare at you.

You dropped the act when they turned away. Jayce laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m really excited to get a jump on capstone.” He told you, “I mean, we don’t have to technically do anything until next year, but It'll be nice to be ahead, we’ll make more progress for sure.”

“We?” You asked, you hadn’t noticed the plural earlier in the conversation.

“Yeah, now that Viktor transferred we’re gonna do our capstone together!” He was excited to bring up his friend again, “We’ll be doing the same amount of work as we would be if we were working separately, but still, both of our ideas are better when we work together.”

“Ya know, that’s nice and all, but I still don’t believe this Viktor guy exists,” You shrugged, “I mean all night it's been ‘where’s Viktor?’ ‘Where's Viktor?’ But doesn’t he live here? Why haven't I seen him?”

“I swear on my mother he’s real,” Jayce said, rubbing a hand down his face, “He’s not really a party guy, but he said he’d stay and party and meet people. Honestly, I think that lasted about an hour and a half before he bailed. He probably drove down to the pier to smoke a cigarette and listen to Alex Turner or something.”

You scoffed, “Sounds like an interesting guy.”

“Hey, don’t judge him before you see him.” He insisted, “He’s quiet, but he’s not shy or weird, ya know? He’s cool, trust me.”

“Damn, you really have a hard on for this guy,” You teased. Jayce always talked about people like this, you were sure he saw his friends the same way as he saw stars in the sky.

“Hey, I won’t deny it. If I was into guys, he’d be the one for me.” Jayce assured, and then backtracked when Mel shot him a look, “IF, I said. But I’m not, I’m not into girls either, not unless their name is Mel Medarda. I’m Mel-Sexual.”

“Okay, reel it in a little bit,” Mel said, rolling her eyes but laughing with him anyways.

You were about to suggest a study hangout on Sunday night, it would be a good chance to both confirm that Viktor was in fact real and get your practice tests done before class. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the sliding door opened and a couple of boys fell into the house. In their drunken shoving of each other as they came in, one slammed right into Jayce’s back causing his drink to splash almost completely onto you. You curse, wiping red Gatorade off your chin.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” He said hands hovering front of him for a moment before he rounded on the boys, they didn’t even acknowledge what happened, “Okay fuckers, you’re done.” He grabbed both of them by the back of the shirt and began hauling them towards the door, “Go home, no more Rune Street Parties for you two.” 

“Oh shit,” Lest said, inspecting the mess on your shirt, the red dye of the drink splashed dramatically over the blue fabric.

“Damn, I just got this top,” You pouted as Jayce came back.

“Dude, I am so sorry,” He rubbed his forehead, “I should have kicked them out sooner, they’ve been obnoxious all night. Listen, I have clothes in the dryer, you can go throw your top in the wash and steal a t-shirt.”

You thought for a second, wondering if the $15 shirt was worth the trouble of Jayce’s offer. You sighed and nodded.

“Okay, thanks,” You frowned, the drink making you feel sticky.

“Of course, you remember how to use that washer, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ll just do a quick wash and come back when it’s done.” You told him, sliding open the door.

“Yeah, text me if you need anything.” He told you as you stepped into the backyard. 

This past summer you had done summer research until the end of June, during that time you had sublet a room in the house. Grateful to not have been holed up in a hotel room for a month. It was a great house, almost perfect even. Its only real quirk was the fact that the washer and dryer were installed in a small garage at the very back of the yard. There were a few people milling about, smoking and drinking on the deck, but the further you got into the yard, the less kids were around. Everyone in the house smoked in the garage, it was comfier than sitting in the weather sometimes, and kept the neighbors from complaining. 

The garage wasn’t off limits to anybody, but unless Jayce invited people in, it usually went unused during parties. No one thinking to look inside for a place to sit. Tonight, though, you could see the light inside turned on. The warm light shining through the thin curtains Cait had put up. 

You paused outside the door, listening for what might be happening on the other side. When you were sure that you weren’t going to walk in on anyone fucking, you went inside. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth.

Pretty Boy was sitting on one of the couches shoved into the small space. He didn’t react to you opening the door, the wired earbuds he was wearing prevented him from hearing you. You took a moment to look at him in better lighting without being caught. His head was tipped against the back of the couch, eyes closed. His dark lashes bushed against the top of his cheeks that were flushed with just a little bit of pink. The lines of his jaw and throat were perfect, a couple of beauty marks standing out against his pale skin. One hand was tapping out the beat on the arm of the couch, smoke slowly rising half gone joint between his fingers. You wondered if his hands were warm or cold. 

‘Okay creeper’ You thought to yourself shaking the thoughts away from your head, ‘that’s enough.’

You shut the door harder than you normally would, unable to think of another way to get his attention. He furrowed his eyebrows and sat up, finally looking at you by the door. He pulled his earbuds out.

“Hey Pretty Boy,” You smirked, not letting yourself be pinned under his gaze.

“What happened to you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You realized that you hadn't heard him speak earlier in the house, the accent he had was interesting. He tilted his head, waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh, Jayce happened,” You scoffed, shaking your head and pulling the bottom of your shirt away to look at the mess, “I’m sure he’d cover my entire life in Red-40 if he could.”

“Hm, unfortunate,” He muttered, “It’s a nice shirt.”

“Well hopefully drowning it in Tide will save it,” You shrugged, opening up the washing machine. 

He watched as you grabbed a Metallica t-shirt out of the half folded basket of laundry on the counter. You were sure Jayce had never listened to a Metallica song in his life. Pretty Boy continued to watch you as you held the shirt in your hands, fidgeting and staring at him awkwardly. When he didn’t take the hint, you turned your back to him fully and peeled the sticky shirt off. You wished you could do something about the Gatorade dried on your skin before putting on the clean shirt, but oh well.

When you turned around he was looking the other direction, but you could see that his face was flushed red all the way to his ears. You snorted, rolling your eyes at him. The fastest cycle on Jayce’s washer was still 25 minutes. Not ideal, but it’d have to do. You tossed the stained shirt into the drum, poured a little too much detergent in, and started it up. 

“Hm, you better work, bitch.” You whispered to the machine, suddenly worried about the fate of your top.

“Are you talking to the washer?” He turned back around to face you.

“I’m encouraging her.” You said seriously, sitting on the other arm of the couch, “There’s, like, 25 minutes on the cycle, cool if I wait here?”

“I’m not going to stop you,” He said, placing the joint between his teeth and relighting it. 

The cherry glowed as he inhaled, smoke pouring out of his perfect nose as he exhaled. He looked back over to you, extending the joint out, both an offer and question. You considered for a second, before taking it. The way he held it to you didn’t allow enough skin contact for you to tell what his hands felt like. They were pretty up close, slender but not dainty. 

“So,” You began, sliding off the arm to sit more comfortably and taking a hit, “Why’re you out here all alone, Pretty Boy?”

“Hm, didn’t like the music,” He said casually, picking at the frayed edge of the couch cushion.

“Nobody actually likes party music,” You laughed, dragging your knees to your chest and resting your chin against them, “It’s just to drown out any thoughts that the alcohol didn’t already get rid of.”

“Very introspective,” He nodded. You weren’t sure that it was.

“Well, what’re you listening to instead, then?” You glanced down at his phone next to him, music still playing faintly through the earbuds.

He picked up the phone and yanked the cord out. 

“-er’s lovers to be had, those walls will make sinners out of such lovely lads,” played out of the small speakers.

“Oh, this is a good one,” You nodded along to the Arctic Monkeys song, smirking when you said, “Definitely better than David Guetta. Playlist or album?”

“Album,” He told you, accepting the joint back after you took another hit.

“So you’re the kinda guy to hide away in the garage with British indie rock and bad weed?”

“First of all, it is not bad weed, it is subpar weed,” He defended, “And second, I’m not hiding. If I were hiding, I wouldn’t have been found.”

“Kinda seems like you’re hiding,” You shrugged, taking back the subpar weed, “I mean, Sky seemed real interested in you and you’re out here instead of with her.”

“Sky went home actually,”

“And you didn’t go with her?!”

“Her roommate took her home, she was smashed.”

“Sky doesn’t have a roommate.” You told him, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” He sat upright, horror on his face.

A crooked grin plastered your face, “Kidding, kidding.”

“That was very fucked up,” He huffed, putting a hand to his forehead as he fell back against the couch.

“Sorry, it was too good an opportunity to pass up,” You hid your laugh against your knee, “l am glad Sky got home, though. Her roommate is a little weird, I’ve never seen her at a party before.”

“Her? I thought Sky’s roommate was a man?” Pretty Boy tilted his head and your stomach dropped, you were sure you’d never be able to breathe again before a cheeky smile tugged at his lips.

“Fuck you, Pretty Boy.” You gasped, dropping your forehead to your knees, heart hammering like you’d just run a marathon.

“I’m sorry,” He laughed, and then, “it was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“I deserved that,” You blinked, lips pursed.

Realizing the joint had gone out, you swiped a lighter off the table. You sat criss cross on the couch facing him.

“Still,” You said around the joint as you lit it, “Fucked up or not, she seemed to like you alot, probably wound’t have minded you around.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you steered back towards that line of thought, “Sky is nice.”

“Ouch,” You cringed, “Sky is nice…but?”

“She is nice, but she’s… too nice,” He said slowly, trying to find the right words, “She’s amazing, but definitely the kind of girl who would want to marry the first guy that fucks her.”

“You’re assuming she’s a virgin?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tell me, is my assumption wrong?” He asked with a tight smile, like he already knew your answer.

“Well, no,” You ducked your head, “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Said what?” He raised an eyebrow, you snorted a laugh at the response, “And hey, I think it is absolutely fine if people want to marry their first. I, however, am not, eh, compatible with those kinds of people.”

“That’s fair,” You scoffed, passing the joint back over to him. 

You didn’t realize the high creeping in during your conversation. It was on you know, though, clouding your brain and making your head feel heavy and your thoughts chase eachother in circles. You shifted again, moving to sit properly on the couch, the heels of your hightops propped on the edge of the messy coffee table. Pretty Boy was back to tapping along to the beat of his music, equally as stoned. You felt the threadbare fabric under your fingertips, hand gliding across the couch cushion next to you as you zoned out. When your movement produced a crackling package sound, you stopped. Head lolling as you frowned and lifted your palm. The spiky edge of a packet was sticking out from between the cushions. You pulled it out.

“Ha!” You snorted a laugh when you realized what it was.

“Hm?” Pretty Boy hummed next to you, looking over.

“Pokemon cards,” You and Jayce had gotten these at a gas station sometime last year, wanting to learn how to play, “I forgot about these.” 

You pulled the cards out of the already torn wrapper, only four remained. You turned over the first card, a Solrock. 

“Smash or pass?” You snorted and held the card out for Pretty Boy to see.

“Pardon?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Smash or pass?” You insisted, like you were asking him the time of day.

“I don’t understand.” He told you, shaking his head.

“Would you have consensual sex with - smash- this being, or not - pass-?” You explained.

“It’s…it’s a- what even is it?” He looked at it in almost horror.

“It’s Solrock, duh. It’d be warm,” You offered, “C’mon, it’s not like you have to marry it,”

“Pass,” He said with a heavy sigh.

“See, was that so hard?” You teased, holding up the next card, “Xatu, smash or pass?”

“That’s a bird.” 

“He’s a handsome bird, very stoic and responsible looking.”

“”Wait,” He stopped you, “You didn’t tell me your decision, that is not fair. Smash or pass Solrock?”

“Oh, pass for sure,” You told him, “the spikes are too obvious, who knows where they’ve been.”

“You thought too much about that,” He plucked the Xatu card from your hand, looking at it closer, “ What about this one?”

“Like I said, stoic and handsome, smash.” 

“Hm, interesting.” He handed the card back to you, “Pass.”

“Lopunny, smash or pass?” You said, smirking as you flipped the next card because you knew exactly what he would say.

“Eh, pass…” He said, hesitation clear.

“Nah, don’t lie,” You teased, “I won’t tell anybody. Just admit you want to fuck the sexy rabbit pokemon.”

“Nope, pass,” He tried to hold firm, but your expectant look drew a groan. He dropped his head into his hands, “...smash.”

“I knew it,” You poked his side, grinning, “Me too, smash all the way.”

“If you tell anybody,” He warned, holding a finger up at you.

“I just told you I’d smash Xatu,” You deadpanned, flipping over the last card. “Which is definitely more controversial. Here, last one.”

You held up the Onix card to him, “Smash or Pass?”

“It’s a rock worm,” He scoffed, “Pass, clearly.”

“First of all, he’s a rock snake,” You cleared up, “And second, smash.”

“What!?” His mouth fell open, blinking at you.

“Look at his face! It’s about the emotion,” You defended, “He looks…determined, driven. Attractive qualities.”

“Sometimes I wish I could be in other people's heads,” He scoffed, relighting the joint once more, “Just for a minute.” 

“It’s better you stay in your own pretty head,” You told him, smirking as you lent back against the sofa. You didn’t realize it but over the course of your silly little game you had gotten very close. Your shoulder was practically behind his, you could smell his cologne and feel the heat of his thigh pressed to yours, “You’d never be the same once being in mine.”

“Jasně,” He muttered as you blew smoke out of his nose again, handing the joint over to you. 

You took a hit. Curiosity getting the better of you, you asked, “Where are you from?”

“Česko,” He looked down at you, face closer than you expected, “You people call it Czechia.”

“Oh, where is that?” You had heard of the country, but couldn’t think of where it was exactly.

“In Europe.” He told you, his pupils were blown out.

“I know that,” You scoffed, bumping your shoulder against his and rolling your eyes, “Where in Europe? I’m bad at geography, explain it to me.”

He smirked softly, you could imagine his accent saying ‘Americans’ in your head, “It’s East of Germany, South of Poland, west of Slovakia and North of Austria. It’s in central Europe.”

“Hm, okay, see that was helpful,” You said, gesturing around with your hands, “What brought you to the U.S.?”

“Piltover, specifically the engineering program,” You weren’t surprised, that was why most people attended the University of Piltover, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You think that’s a lot?” You snorted, “I can ask plenty more.”

“Eh, not necessary,” He protested with a flit of his hand, as you began asking him rapid fire questions.

“What year are you?”

A moment, and then a resigned, “I’m in my 3rd year.”

“How old are you?”

“22.”

“Cats or dogs?” 

“Neither, really, but cats if I have to pick.”

“Tea or Coffee?”

“Whatever is available as long as it’s highly caffeinated.” His lopsided smile grew a little with each question, the game of feigning annoyance over. 

“Ah, a true STEM student,” You raised your eyebrows and laughed, leaning against him for a moment before pulling away, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Today, light blue. Tomorrow, who knows.” 

“Do you want to make out?”

-----

Chapter 2

[squidlykitten]

Everyone ready for a fresh month of challenges?

This prompt list was created for the RP Garden's monthly art and writing challenge, and was inspired by @jilymicrofics 's 2024 Moody March! I thought I would share it here as well, just in case someone else feels like using it. And also because putting this together was a lot more work than you might expect.

Spotify playlist of the songs can be found here! There's no real rules. Feel free to make art or writing or whatever your heart desires! If you make stuff, please do tag me or use the hashtag #MoodyMarch2025 . I'm nosey and I wanna see. :> Happy March, ya'll! Text version of the prompts is below the cut.

The Prompts

1. Brave Burning Heart | Outside of Self | A Rising Power Through the pale moonlight, our hearts ignite to the call / Oh claim your price for a crown of stars / In the name of love be the sacrifice / You and I will stand and fight, our backs to the wall Hero - Elizaveta

2. Focused Duty Bound | The End Justifies the Means | Target It’s set in motion/ The legends spoken/ This is my moment/ Can’t break my focus/ Know where I’m going/ This is my moment Conquer - Magnus & Neoni

3. Panic Frantic | Crumble | Abject Horror Your lips are moving but I can't make out a single word/ I'm shaking like a leaf/ Hope the gods that you can't see/ Clawing at my chest cause I can't breathe/ Now I got scars that never bleed PANIC ATTACK - PEGGY

4. Uneasy Discomfort | Judgement | Suspect I feel a rush on me/ Come get these cuffs off me / Come get me out of my head/ And I'm stuck inside of what I see / These walls are blinding me/ Makes me crazy, I'm feeling uneasy Uneasy - Rita Ora

5. Contented Sunlight Filtering through a Window | Fulfilled | Serenity Loosen up on the grind/ Simmer down/ Settle back and mess around/ Be the cat in the sun Be the Cat - Kylie Dailey

6. Nostalgic Dreamy Thoughts | Faded Memories | Displaced Self Everything stays right where you left it / Everything stays but it still changes / Ever so slightly / daily and nightly / in little ways / everything stays Everything Stays - Bentelou

7. Joyful Mirth | Festivities | After Rain Comes Sunshine It don't matter if it's raining/ Nothing can phase me/ I make my own sunshine/ And if you think you can break me/ Baby you're crazy I Make My Own Sunshine - Alyssa Bonagura

8. Surprised Overcome Adversity | Skepticism | Doubt I know you hate it when you know I could be anywhere/ So complicated, when you try so hard not to be scared/ I’ll be hiding under your bed or behind the bathroom door/ It’s so fun to watch you freak out. Ha ha, scared you! Sneak Attack - The Aquabats!

9. Disgusted Depraved | Decay | Disappointment I almost settled for you/ Thank God you do what you do / And now your colours are true/ Took me a while, but I grew/ I’m so disgusted with you Disgusted - Song House & Wé Ani

10. Calm Untouchable | Tranquil | Water Darling, you gotta keep breathing/ Lose yourself in the feeling/ Just be slow(x2) / Take it back to that moment/ Before you start to feel broken/ Just be slow (x2) Be Slow - Harrison Storm

11. Amazed Reverence | Devotion | Striking No masters or kings when the ritual begins/ There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin/ In the madness and soil of that sad earthly scene/ Only then, I am human, only then, I am clean Take Me to Church - Hozier

12. Furious Burning Face | Tense Muscles | Blood Pumping Punch your lights out / Hit the pavement / That's what I call entertainment Lights Out - Mindless Self Indulgence

13. Proud Overcome | Earnest | Achievement So as you go please know on your way / as you explore and as you learn and as you play / I hope it shows how much it is true/ that I'm so proud of you Proud of You - Five Times August

14. Heartbroken Chest Pain | Heavy Body | Cold Mind Tell me how to say goodbye/ Peel away the shame so I / Can tear apart my ribs to shed the dark Tell Me How to Say Goodbye - Red

15. Loving Together | Care | Faith I find it hard to believe you don't know/ The beauty you are/ But if you don't, let me be your eyes/ A hand to your darkness so you won't be afraid I'll Be Your Mirror - Courtney Barnett (Velvet Underground cover)

16. Anxious Shortness of Breath | Shaking Hands | Nausea I get overwhelmed / so easily / my anxiety / creeps inside of me / makes it hard to breathe / whats come over me/ feels like I'm somebody else overwhelmed - Royal & the Serpent

17. Admiration Mesmerized | Wonders of the World | Idol Well I see skies of blue and I see clouds of white/ And the brightness of day highlight the dark/ And I think to myself what a wonderful world What a Wonderful World - Israel Kamakawiwoʻole

18. Bored Finnicky | Dull | Repetition A heart that's full up like a landfill/ A job that slowly kills you/ Bruises that won't heal No Surprises - Radiohead

19. Amused Wrinkles around the Eyes | Spry steps | Cheerful Heartbeats synched as one / endless summer fun / we are never done / underneath the sun Laughing with my Friends - Patranesia

20. Excited Promises fulfilled | Energetic | Eager I'm a shootin' star, leapin' through the sky like a tiger/ Defyin' the laws of gravity/ I'm a racin' car, passin' by like Lady Godiva/ I'm gonna go, go, go, there's no stoppin' me! Don't Stop Me Now - Queen

21. Embarrassed Accident | Secrets Unveiled | Unrequited Stranger, that's all I see/ When I look into your eyes/ A soulmate who wasn't meant to be A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant to Be - Jess Benko

22. Desperate Voice Breaking | Pleading | One Last Chance There's a time to pray / and there's a time to fight / Anything can be a weapon if you're holding it right / Defend what is yours / They will not take our souls / It's time now to rise / and FIGHT! Save Our City - Ludo

23. Grieving Change | Not Anymore | It mattered A single thought, a singular touch of grace/ Then following this single point, this single flame/ This single haunted memory of your face A Thousand Years - Sting

24. Playful Melody | Humor | Refreshed No need for morning coffee/ When you've cereal and cartoons / Let's skip the work and deadlines / And ride our bikes till noon Don't Grow Up, It's A Trap - Denny Haze

25. At Peace Forgiveness | Final Words | Idyllic And I found peace in the desert/ I found peace in raging waves/ And I found peace in the valley/ found peace in what you said Peace - Anna Golden

26. Stressed Tension | Choice | Urgent I'm addicted to stress/ That's the way that I get things done/ If I'm not under pressure then I sleep too long/ And I hang around like a bum/ And I think I'm going nowhere and that makes me nervous/ Everybody's out to get me, but I feel alright/ Everybody's thinking about me Stress - Jim's Big Ego

27. Terrified Voiceless | Harrow | Abandoned I've swallowed all my pride/ 'Cause I can't get this right/ There's nothing left to hide/ And I know deep inside/ I'm terrified Terrified - Versus Me

28. Compassionate Helping Hand | Kind Words | Unexpected Ally This is not just a pile of stones, okay?/ We are building a castle together/ And we are gonna to build it brick by heavy fucking brick / And I'm going to be here with you, every moment / Talking you through it GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE - The Narcissist Cookbook

29. Lost Lifeless | Wanderer | Point of No Return Because the thing about things/ Is that they can start meaning things nobody actually said/ And if you're not allowed to love people alive/ Then you learn how to love people dead The Thing About Things - Amanda Palmer

30. Insulted Vexing | Sticks and Stones | Pride There ya go, just spit in my face/ Keep my name in your mouth, how bad does it taste?/ Why do you sit there and belittle me?/ When you choke on your own animosity Disappoint Me - Left to Suffer

31. Fulfilled Grounded | Lightness of Self | Satisfaction You only live once / I'm good with myself / I'm there for my friends / to the very end I'm Good - The Mowglis

[podcastgirlsweek]

Next week!

We've got one week to go, and I'm so excited! Podcast Girls Week is a week long prompt-based event where fans are encouraged to create works celebrating their favorite podcast women. The event will take place on July 8-14.

Ready to post? We'll be using the #podcastgirlsweek tag here on tumblr, and you can already start adding works to the currently unrevealed 2024 Podcast Girls Week collection  on Ao3.

Monday: What about sad wet cat women? Highlight a podcast starring women in the leading role(s).

Tuesday: This too is yuri... Spotlight a F/F ship (or platonic or familial relationship between women if that’s your preference).

Wednesday: WIP Wednesday! We all have art/fic/meta we’ve been meaning to get to. This is your day to finally commit (as long as your WIP is about podcast women, of course.)

Thursday: Nobody understands her like I do… Recognize a woman from a podcast you think is niche and/or underappreciated.

Friday: God forbid women do anything. Celebrate a female villain. Defend your #problematic fave.

Saturday: Self-indulgence Saturday! Make something you’ve really wanted to make but haven’t because you thought it was too self-indulgent, niche, or silly.

Sunday: Free space!

Have questions? Check out the FAQ. Join the Discord while you wait!

Finally, you are always welcome to tag or @ this blog if you’re posting content about podcast ladies, and I will happily reblog it!

[yuurivoice]

Saw a goofball post about ASMR Roleplay, romantic plots, narratives, etc. and so on.

Let me share some of my philosophy with you as someone in this game for 7 years, 150k subs on YouTube, and who turned this into a lucrative business for himself. I say all that not to flex, but to assure you that maybe I know a little bit about what I'm talking about.

Audio Roleplays, ASMR Roleplay, etc and so forth is not some sort of rigid, strict thing. If you believe that content in this niche has to adhere to strict rules, structure, and expectations, you've already entered into this with strange expectations because there is such a vast array of ways you can go about presenting this content.

Some of it is slice of life moments in time with an assumed relationships between character and listener. Before narrative audios started to pick up steam, or rather, a handful of folks (myself included) developed followings centered on original characters and stories, the vast majority of creators in this space were just doing snippets of experiences. And, in case you were unaware, that approach is wildly successful. Boyfriend Experiences, audio smut, etc. has a much wider appeal at this time because a listener can drop right in and enjoy it.

If you have somehow deluded yourself into thinking that every audio has to adhere to strict narrative rules, be defined by conflict, or things happening beyond whatever the vibe calls for, you're willfully putting yourself and the niche in a box. Which is fine, but seeing people piss and moan about it is strange.

My approach has been to blend narrative series along with one-shots. One-shots serve as super self indulgent audios that aren't tied to the narrative and allow listeners to engage with some of their favorite characters they fell in love with in the narrative without furthering the plot.

Sometimes I play the game, explore tropes and clichés that are popular for the sake of taking a crack at it. Because it brings in new listeners who then become fans of my narrative work and creates genuine supporters of my passion projects.

And ya know? It fucking works. It works really well. I can drop a very straightforward, stripped down comfort audio with Alphonse like I did today and move listeners to tears. And then we can continue on with BitterSweet when I'm good and ready. It keeps the channel running, keeps the audience engaged, and keeps me working.

The bigger point here is that creators should be able to approach their work as they see fit, without concerns about goofballs with strange expectations and standards dictating to them what is and is not valid. You wanna know what's valid? Creating shit that you like, that the people who support you like. However you achieve that is all good in my book.

Having some goofy ass superiority complex about how people play pretend with pretty voices is strange behavior. I'm proud that my community has never flung that kind of nonsense around, and I'm speaking on it to affirm that kind of stance for the folks who rock with me.

If you're a listener who has recently stumbled into this niche, I implore you to explore, listen to others, find what you like and enjoy it because you enjoy it. There are countless people making audio content these days and there's no wrong way to do it, never has been. There's something for everyone, and if someone tries to tell you otherwise, be wary.

I'm not about negative nonsense, not about tribalism or putting down one person over another. Lift up your faves and share why you appreciate them and their style. But petulant bickering and shitting on others because of something as trivial as audio content? Nahhhh. If I catch anyone spouting nonsense like that in my name, I try and snuff it out as fast as possible because that's not how my shit is built.

If you are someone who fucks with me and my work but has had some opinions like that, I implore you to chill because none of this has ever been that serious. I want people to enjoy what they want to enjoy because for the love of fuck, life is too short to try and grandstand over this silly little niche. Or please get all the way away from me and my people.

Deuces. ✌️

[erisweekofficial]

We're thrilled to shine a light on @zenkindoflove!!! Amanda is an absolute gem in the Elucien fandom AND Eris fandom and has also blessed us with Alexius, her incredible OC for her Eris x OC fics.

Alexius stands out as one of the few male OCs in the community, and the dynamic between him and Eris is nothing short of captivating. Think forced proximity, delicious yearning, witty banter, political intrigue, and all the tension you could dream of. You can see them in both Summer Heat (which has Elucien) and Pull Me in Deeper, which... y'all you gotta read this asap😍🤭🥵 Also the mods are begging you to read Taste of You, a short and delightfully smutty one shot.

And PLEASE admire this amazing art of Alexius and Eris!

Read more to learn about how @zenkindoflove was inspired to create content about Eris AND her extremely helpful tips for writing content about him. (We're taking notes)

What inspired you to start creating content about Eris?  I became curious about writing Eris after he was featured in some of my Elucien fics. When I started my multichapter Elucien fic Summer Heat, I decided that I would give him a male love interest in that fic and create an OC - which ended up being Alexius who you see featured in all of my Eris work. I originally intended for it to be a background relationship, but I decided to experiment and write the scene of their first meeting (a very smutty scene) just to do some character exploration. I didn’t intend to include it in the fic, but then once I wrote it, I knew that it was something special and Eris x Alexius became a true B storyline in that fic with a fully fleshed out love story. After that, I wanted to expand and write fics that focused on them which I've written several now and more to come for Eris Week! It's a bit niche. Hardly anyone writes Eris x Male OC but I'm obsessed now.

What's your favorite piece you've created featuring Eris and why? 

That would be my Eris x Alexius multichapter fic - Pull Me in Deeper. I love it because it was a way for me to explore Eris’ character when he is out of the watchful eye of his father and others in Prythian. It’s also just a fun action/adventure/romance story and I got to explore more lore and character building for my OC Alexius as well. Alexius was designed to be, in my opinion, the perfect person for Eris and that means often standing in contrast to a lot of his personality traits and pushing him outside of his comfort zone. So it was an incredibly fun dynamic to explore. And it’s two gay men who are on a quest to find out (*spoilers*) if unicorns exist XD.

How do you approach writing dialogue for Eris? 

I tend to lean into Eris being more careful with his words - so he is sharp, concise, and efficient in his word choice. Depending on who he’s sharing a scene with and the context, he can be severe and short or he can be long-winded and eloquent. And of course, he has banter and jabs a plenty. So I try to balance all those sides of him depending on the context.

Do you have any advice for other creators wanting to make Eris content? 

Eris inhabits a unique space in canon where he is truly a free agent when it comes to relationships. So, I would recommend if you want to write romances with Eris to lean into self-indulgence and write the pairing/story you really want to tell and try to let go of what you think will be popular. And if that ends up being Eris x OC rather than a canon character, know that it can actually be such a rewarding experience even if you don’t have a built in audience. Creating an OC to pair with Eris has been immensely fun and has broadened my creativity. Eris is a complex, interesting character with so many layers and building someone to fit him and find out what is underneath all of those layers can lead you down quite an obsessive path. But a fun one. 

Please give us a name for one of Eris’s Brothers

Kian. He is the third oldest and is more of a scholarly type. Now that second brother Conan is dead, he is next in line after Eris.

Please give us a name for one of Eris's Dogs.

Lithia. She just had puppies in PMID and Eris is worried about her. 

[rockybloo]

With it nearing the end of the year, I feel like it's a good time to just have some real talk about why I create art.

At some point during in high school, during those years where you are pressured to figure out what you want to do when you grow up and what you want to major in when you go to college, I had wanted to go to art school after high school. I decided against it ultimately because I just didn't see a true appeal for me. I started to realize that I enjoyed my art so much more when I didn't have the pressure on me to create something for a fancy final product. Yeah, I could go but then I'd have to change aspects of myself I didn't really want to change but had to because that's what the world says I gotta do if I want to be a good artist.

And that's the thing I sort of hate the most about being able to create anything. You have to be good. Otherwise you are wasting your time. You aren't allowed to just make stuff for fun and for a hobby - you have to constantly be striving for improvement at a pace others have set for you. You can't just have it as a hobby. If you make art then it's expected that you make good art.

You're not allowed to be satisfied with being mediocre.

I've been actively posting my art online since I opened a Deviantart account way back in middle school. I'm 26, on my way to becoming 27. And as someone who has spent a solid decade online, I feel more certain than ever that I am a hobby artist. Having a fulltime job DEFINIATELY has helped me come to that conclusion but even before, I knew I liked to draw for fun. I don't like to stress about what I am sharing to cyberspace, I like just having this digital archive of stuff I've made and stories I've written.

I call myself a self indulgent artist because I'm incredibly selfish draw things I want and write stories I'd enjoy.

That's not to say I don't care that people enjoy my work and feel represented at times. I love it when people share how happy they feel when they see my OCs and read my stories. I'm happy I can fulfill some niches for people. Honestly, it'll always be crazy to me when I make something so damn specific that I wanna see and share it just for some other people to get excited. There are benefits to having a public digital archive your art and reactions people may have are one of them.

But ultimately I don't create to make others happy. If I did focus my art on just doing that, I promise you that my online presence and art would look DRASTICALLY different.

I share my stuff online because it's a whole lot easier to archive all my art as well as being able to share my stuff with the world and occasionally make some friends. Posting my art shows I was alive so MAYBE JUST MAYBE I will not be watered down when recalled in memories and people will always know I was insane about my OCs.

I'm pretty satisfied with be a mid artist. My finished work makes me happy, and what I care about is managing to create something of the fellas that reside in my head because seeing my OCs makes me happy...AND I'M THE ONLY SOURCE OF CONTENT FOR THEM SO I GOTTA COOK MY OWN FOOD AND EAT IT TOO--

ANYWAYS I am in no rush to level myself up. I'm 27 and human lifespans are pretty long. Even though it's slow and subtle, I have def been making improvements in my work...but mainly because there are aspects about my OCs that I occasionally realize I am struggling with and pull a "Do it for her" as I work on what I am having a hard time with. SURE they might not be improvements others would like to see but they are improvements that make me happy. And I am excited to see how my art develops over my existence on this planet.

.

.

.

...I am also excited to see if my black ass can finish any of my webcomics before I die. I KNOW I CAN DEF FINISH ONE OF 'EM I JUST DUNNO WHICH ONE IT'S GONNA BE! IT'S A RACE TO SEE WHO MAKES IT TO THE FINISH LINE BEFORE I KEEL OVER

[yukidragon]

Sunny Day Jack Valentine's Day Ramble

To offset the heartache from yesterday, I figured I'd do an off the cuff Valentine's day themed headcanon ramble. I have no idea where it's going to go or how spicy it'll be until I finish and come back in to toss in whatever content warnings might apply, but I'm going to try and stick to fluffy stuff today instead of angst if I can.

No promises though. Once I get started, there's no telling the places my mind will go when given a writing prompt.

Content Warnings: A little bit of possessive yandere spice from Jack, but nothing major. There's also mentions of the way Ian and Alice's relationship failed how that affects her in the present, references to past childhood trauma, as well as hints of Joseph's darker past.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

Before we get started, what say I dress up for the occasion first?

Yes this was an excuse to show off my silly sprite edit for Valentine's Day. Self-love is important too you know. On that note, let's get on to the OTP indulgence!

Love and Cookies

While Alice is associated with and often smells like sugar cookies, her favorite cookies are the classic chocolate chip, and she's perfected her own personal recipe after much trial and error. It took a while to get them to taste juuuuust right. Her special recipe never fails to fill her with the sweet taste of comfort and nostalgia.

Though Alice doesn't realize it, she originally created this recipe long, long ago. A tradition that Alice unknowingly carried over from her life as Mary is to bake chocolate chip cookies as gifts for those she loves. In the present day she's managed to recreate the recipe she perfected in her previous life.

As you might expect, Mary gave plenty of these cookies to Joseph, even if she didn't have the spoons to bake them very often. He always helped her out whenever he could though. This means that Jack is going to find Alice's cookies are a semi-sweet bite of nostalgia.

Naturally, this is going to pop up sometime in Sunshine in Hell when I get going with it again. The only question is who bakes Mary's classic chocolate chip cookies first - Alice or Jack? I can imagine him unthinkingly using her recipe without remembering where he got it from. Whoever makes it first, the other is going to be mighty surprised by the familiar nostalgic taste.

I did consider writing a snippet along this topic for today, but I'm low on spoons, so I'm going to ramble about it instead. Maybe I'll manage a paragraph of writing or two sometime in this post as I go along. We shall see how it goes.

Even after moving out, Alice made sure to bake cookies and ship them to her family for special occasions. Being the oldest child, she would try to bake a big batch of cookies for her family for every noteworthy holiday, even if said holiday already came with its own distinct brand of goodies. Chocolate chip cookies are welcome at any holiday dessert buffet after all. Of course she also baked cookies for birthdays too, though sometimes they weren't chocolate chip if the recipient wasn't a fan of chocolate.

Sure, Alice knows how to bake other goodies, and is a decent cook with more savory dishes, but chocolate chip cookies will always be her favorite. It's a comfort food that never fails to make her happy.

Despite constantly being tired and pressed for cash, Alice does make sure to save up for a big batch of cookies to ship to her family and closest friends for special occasions. She doesn't bake as often after moving out, mostly focusing on birthdays for her immediate family and the bigger holidays. While attending college, she did make cookies for Ian and Shaun as well, including special Valentine's day goodies.

Shaun loved receiving a sweet homemade chocolate chip cookie shaped like a heart straight from his crush. Poor guy knew it was just a platonic show of affection to a friend, as she gave the same cookie to her other close friends at college. Sadly, he couldn't help but feel jealous when he saw that Ian got an array of chocolate chip cookie hearts, all elaborately decorated with homemade buttercream and little words of love. She went all out when she and Ian first became official.

Naturally, Ian doesn't get to taste Alice's cookies or buttercream anymore. He certainly misses it. He's gotten to enjoy them for years, since he was a child. He joined so many of the King holiday celebrations, as if they were his own family, and Alice would bake special cookies just for him, especially when she wasn't able to buy him a present.

Shaun did get to enjoy a bittersweet little vindictive victory when he got a shipment of heart-shaped cookies during the first Valentine's Day after Alice and Ian broke up. This time, he had nothing to envy Ian about.

Valentines Transition

I'm not sure where the first Valentine's Day Jack and Alice spend together will fall in the progression of their relationship. If it's before Alice starts really being aware of her feelings for Jack, she's going to be more focused on the fact that she has no Valentine to spend it with this year.

Of course on Valentine's Day of all days, Ian is going to be especially insufferable with sending Alice voice mails. If he knew where she moved to, he would've shipped her all kinds of gifts to show her just how much he still loves her.

The breakup isn't exactly fresh at the start of Sunshine in Hell, but it's not even been a year since it happened. Even then, previous holidays were a strain, to say the least, with Ian long distance and distracted by his new friends.

That makes me think of what Alice and Ian's last Valentine's Day might've been like. Without a vacation from college classes, chances are there wouldn't be time for one of them to visit the other, even if they could spare money for the flight.

Ian can't handle being alone, especially during holidays. It's not the first Valentine's day they had to spend apart, as this is at least his second year off at the new school. The first year apart, he was a blubbering mess, constantly trying to call and video chat with Alice. He wouldn't hang up the phone until they both fell asleep during a call. It was really sweet actually, even if they missed each other a lot.

The second long-distance Valentine's Day was anything but sweet. The first year at the new school was Ian's adjustment period, still clinging to Alice for support, even if he could only get it over text and calls. He was overwhelmed at first by all the attention he got at the new school. He was a fresh face in a new place, which is something of a novelty that drew others in, and he had fully transitioned into his glow up. Cautiously, he started making friends, not wanting to be alone, so far away from his support network. He quickly got addicted to the surprising popularity he found at the new school.

The first year apart was the start of Ian drifting away from Alice. He originally called at least once a day, texting even more. Then it went to texts daily and calls every couple days. Then a week or two, as things got busy. He made sure to call her during the holidays, when he missed having a partner the most.

During the second year, Ian was outright neglectful, forgetting to respond to texts or voice mails, leaving Alice on read more than once. His Christmas gift to her was a pricy piece of jewelry, not something personalized that she was really wanting like previous years. He used to be so thoughtful about stuff like that. It was something one of his new female friends helped him pick out for her, as he didn't know what to get her that year.

On Valentine's Day, Ian's friends had an event planned for the single people of the group. It wasn't hard to talk him into joining them, even though they all knew he was in a relationship. Alice is not here after all. He's practically single! They don't want him to be alone on Valentine's Day, being reminded of what he's missing out, so he should join them for drinks. Not feeling alone on a day for couples is why they're throwing this celebration after all.

Ian got swept away by the festivities and his friends, as he had been so often lately. He even shared his special Valentine's Day chocolate chip cookies from Alice with his friends. In retrospect, he regrets not saving them all for himself, not knowing they'd be the last he'd ever receive.

While it is tempting that this event is when Ian does cheat, it's just very close to that time. He's crossing lines, having an emotional affair with a certain someone, not realizing that's what he's doing, or that it'll soon become physical.

On Valentine's Day that year, Alice got drunken texts with sloppy typing. Ian did wish her a happy Valentine's Day, and said he missed her and wished she was there with him at the party, but his focus was mostly on the fun he was having and the warm fuzzy feelings the booze brought him. Though he knows she probably wouldn't have wanted to go anyway with all the drinking since she doesn't like alcohol, especially getting sloshed like this, so maybe it's better this way.

There was a call Ian made that was cut short. It was hard to hear him over the party music and all the talking. Alice tried so hard not to feel jealous when she heard a certain lady on the other end of the line, the same busty and sexy lady who kept appearing with Ian on his socials lately.

Surely the comment that lady made wasn't meant to be insinuating anything. Surely that wasn't intended to be innuendo. Alice trusted Ian. She trusted his judgment in friends. He was sensitive about who he let close to him after all. He wouldn't spend time with someone blatantly flirting with him or intentionally being sexually suggestive about him. They were friends, just friends. Ian wouldn't cheat. Whenever Alice dared to voice even the smallest of concerns, Ian always assured her she had nothing to worry about and worried so much about her doubting him. It made him feel awful she could even think such a thing. He would never be like his womanizing, absent, cheating, deadbeat dad.

Alice kicked herself later for not pressing harder about that woman. She should have asked more questions, called that lady out... but soon she realized it wouldn't have mattered anyway. She and Ian just weren't good for each other.

The second Valentine's Day being long distance was hard on Alice, but the first one after the breakup was harder. Alice felt so empty, so lonely.

Alice and Ian's relationship was unhealthy, and it was crumbling for quite a while. She knows breaking up for the best... but it left her feeling so painfully unlovable.

Sweeping Away the Crumbs

Alice can't sit still on a day meant for love with these thoughts eating away at her. She might have been slacking off a bit on baking cookies for her loved ones lately, but it's a good distraction. By focusing on appreciating what she still has, she won't have room to think about everything she lost.

Of course, Jack is an expert at redirecting Alice's attention to him instead of all the sad things bothering her. She assumed her first Valentine's Day alone after Ian would be lonelier than the previous year, but she isn't alone. Sure, no one else can see Jack, but he has this way of making everyone else disappear when she's with him.

This is especially true if Alice is starting to become aware of her feelings towards Jack. If this holiday hit before she realizes she's fallen for him, she would just be happy to have his company. Being treated sweetly by a good friend and roommate makes her feel so warm and fuzzy.

Naturally Jack would see Valentine's Day as an opportunity for him to get closer to his sunshine. The holiday certainly has changed in 40 years, but that's not a bad thing. There's all sorts of options for decorations, candy, and other ways to show love now. Back in the 80's, it was a lot more lowkey, though the cards were a lot cuter back then, in his opinion.

All the buildup to Valentine's Day allowed Jack time to come up with a plan. Sadly, he can't purchase anything in the state he's in, but he can absolutely spoil his sunshine. Pancakes in the shape of hearts is a must. Maybe even breakfast in bed! If Alice has a day off, he could let her sleep in and wake up to sweet blueberry pancakes and syrup while they enjoy cuddle time in bed.

Of course, with Valentine's Day being a pretty commercial holiday, Barry isn't going to give any of his staff the day off if he can help it. Oh, sure, I'd imagine Carol would manage to weasel her way out of working that day, maybe calling in sick when in reality she's spending the night off on some romantic escapade, but Alice is not so lucky.

Alice would be expecting this of course. It makes her miss her job at the library all the more. Even if she couldn't get a holiday off, she could at least spend the day someplace peaceful and quiet. Sadly, it just wasn't feasible to keep that job after she moved. Yogurtopia might be the pits, but at least it's in easy walking distance of her apartment to save her on gas money.

Ian doesn't know where her new job is either.

Expecting this, Alice starts baking her cookies a day or two before Valentine's Day. Instead of Jack catching Alice completely off guard with his big Valentine's Day plans, she surprises him first when he sees her choosing to cook after work instead of unwinding on the couch like usual. It's exhausting to jump straight from a food service job to baking more food, but it keeps her mind off of what she's missing. Also, she has to rush to finish them if she wants to get the cookies shipped by tomorrow.

Naturally, Jack offers to help Alice with her cooking, but she insists on doing it herself. It won't be the same if someone else bakes them for her after all. Just like Jack says his pancakes are made with love, Alice pours her feelings into these cookies. They're special. If Jack got involved, he'd take over the cooking completely like he usually does to lessen her work load. She appreciates his thoughtfulness, but this time it would defeat the point of creating a gift from her heart.

So Jack helps by cleaning the dirty dishes as Alice goes along and encouraging her to take breaks, getting her drinks, and keeping her company. Listening to him chatter is always soothing to her. It also helps keep her mind off of darker thoughts... including all the voice mails she's been too afraid to check lately.

With Jack's help, Alice can actually save enough energy to make her special buttercream frosting for the cookies and decorate them. When she gets to decorating, she can't help but notice the disappointing and longing look from Jack, and she does eventually give in and let him decorate some of them too. There's something about decorating sweets that is more fun together.

Besides, Alice would make sure there would be plenty of extra cookies leftover for the two of them to enjoy.

Times Change but the Feelings Remain

Of course, since Jack comes from the 80's before so many E.coli scares and such, sneaking a bite of the cookie dough is a must. He doesn't remember all the times where Joseph would playfully try to get past Mary's iron defenses to dip his fingers into the bowl and swipe a big scoop. She never really tried too hard to stop him, but she still acted scandalized by his thievery, as that was part of the fun.

Joseph almost always teased Mary with the suggestive way he licked the cookie dough of his fingers, swirling his tongue to get every last bit of sugary goodness stuck to his skin. He relished making her so flustered, tempting her to take a break from cooking to give him some sugar.

When Mary and Joseph were living together, the cookies she baked were mainly for the two of them. When she got closer to the SunnyTime Crew, she brought in some to the studio break room on special occasions once or twice, mostly at Christmas time. Valentine's Day though was just for him.

The Phoenix family didn't really appreciate Mary's many attempts to bake cookies for them, but Joseph always did. She tried to make friends with her cookies, and while her classmates did happily accept them, only Joseph was truly appreciative of them.

By the time Mary was an adult, baking cookies for anyone but herself and Joseph was a rare thing, especially with her health struggles and she had so much work with the SunnyTime Crew Show. Still, she made sure to bake a special birthday batch for her mentor and fellow writer and producer on the show, Diane, every year without fail.

Diane really was more like a mom to Mary than her real mother was, or like a cool aunt. Without her help, Mary would've never been able to make the connections to LambsWork or pitch the SunnyTime Crew show in the first place. Mary is forever grateful for Diane in her life and always made sure to show her appreciation when she could.

Sometimes Joseph would be a bit jealous of Mary showing affection to other people, which led to him being a little possessive and handsy. Mary would always indulge his clinginess and reassure him that she will always love him more than anyone else.

Mary might have baked cookies for people she cared for, but only Joseph was blessed with the privilege to lick the beaters and bowl when she was done, and snatch up some quick little morsels of dough before they were all baked. Joseph got to revel in being just that little bit more special to Mary in all things.

Sadly, Alice isn't going to let Jack get away with swiping some raw cookie dough. She'd be worried about him getting sick from unpasteurized eggs and uncooked flour. It'd seem silly to Jack to worry about such a thing, but also a shame that people today can't enjoy the simple pleasure of sneaking some fresh cookie dough.

Of course, Alice isn't completely sure Jack can actually get sick even if there was a risk of tainted uncooked food, but she's not going to take the chance.

Still, when her back is turned, Jack simply can't help himself. He snuck a little taste before she told him not to touch the dough, and the taste was just so good... so nostalgic, but in a good way.

Being with Alice in the kitchen while she bakes fills Jack with so much nostalgia. It's so familiar, so right. The smells, the closeness, the taste... it stirs up old feelings and memories.

Of course with feelings of familiarity comes a bit of anxiousness. Jack doesn't want to remember being Joseph and all the baggage that comes with it. He's not that person anymore.

But unlike the bad yogurt combo, it didn't bring up a specific and very unpleasant memory that brought him back to some of the worst moments in his life. Before Joseph found Mary again, he drowned himself in vice when he could, in alcohol, sex, smokes, and even drugs. He dangerously mixed rum with coffee and chased it down with cashews because the two drinks alone weren't really a pleasant combo. He still liked those three things individually and they were tied to other memories too, but that particular combination was something he indulged in during the lowest time of his life when he sold his body for food, a place to stay, and just the smallest sliver of affection.

The cookie dough and fresh baked chocolate chip cookies are different. They smell and taste of home. They were a part of the best moments of his life, the bright spots that served as an oasis in an otherwise loveless childhood, and warm moments in his adult life when the worst seemed to be over and he was finally granted the happiness and love he would've died for.

Being playfully teasing with Alice is so comfortable, familiar. She falls into the banter so easily. It's just so natural with Jack. He might keep trying to sneak some cookie dough, and she might feel a little guilty not letting him have any, but it's kind of fun to have this little battle with him too. It's a game they play with her preventing him from getting a taste while Jack tries to work around her defenses.

In the past, Mary let Joseph win this game to sneak quite a few tastes of whatever she was making, but Alice is more serious about stopping Jack, so he allows her to win their playful little war. He doesn't want to risk actually upsetting his sunshine, and he knows she's just worried about his health.

They both know that his situation isn't normal, and it's possible Jack can't get sick... but he feels more like an ordinary human when Alice worries about his health anyway. She treats him like a normal human as much as his situation will allow. She wants him to feel normal, safe, and happy... just like he does for her, and he loves her all the more for it.

Alice does offer a compromise though. She gives Jack first taste of the cookies once they finished baking and promises that she'll make a big batch of edible dough for them to enjoy another time. Jack lightly teases her that the dough is deliciously edible as it is, but he'll defer to her expertise.

It's a cozy moment between them, though Jack feels a little jealous that this isn't a treat just for him. A part of him whispers that a moment like this, these extra special treats... it's just meant for the two of them, not anyone else. He doesn't want to give up a single cookie to anyone else.

But... it's what Alice wants. She has people in her life who she loves, a family and friends. A part of Jack feels defensive about her family, like they can't be worthy of her, like they're just using her. He knows it's irrational since everything Alice told him about her family is positive, but a part of him feels so certain that they don't actually care. He just can't shake that part of him that wants to protect his sunshine from her own family. The Phoenix family who only saw Mary as a possession to use and reflect on them than a cherished loved one. Until he can meet the rest of the King family members, he can't quite shake this suspicion.

Jack knows he's being too clingy, too greedy. It's selfish and not something the ever cheerful and kind Sunny Day Jack would do. He tries his best to fight such out of character feelings, but he gets a bit clingier as Alice decorates the cookies for other people. He goes out of his way to be helpful, an offer to mix up colors in the icing here, a suggestion of cinnamon hearts over the sugary ones there...

Names that are not his don't belong on these heart-shaped cookies that Alice baked with her love. But Jack can't be greedy. She would feel hurt if these precious gifts that she worked so hard on never reached their intended recipients. Even if he offered to eat them all instead, she would still be sad, and the last thing he wants is for anything to dim her beautiful shining light.

And she does shine now. Alice is exhausted all the time, going through the motions of things most days except when they're together, but when baking this sweet nostalgic treat that means so much to her, she's alight with purpose. She wants to show love to all the people who mean so much to her. She needs that, especially after the hurt she suffered from the last Valentine's day and the intrusive thoughts of Ian she's desperately running away from now.

Jack won't let her think of Ian if he can help it. He'll draw her attention back to him, to her baking whenever he notices her thought straying into a direction that's more bitter than sweet. He praises how delicious the cookies are and how the icing is sweet, but not overly so. He goes a bit overboard with the compliments until Alice gets flustered, but so happy.

By the time she's done baking, decorating, and boxing up the cookies, then rushing them out to a delivery service that's open late and does overnight shipping, the day is completely spent, and so is Alice. She's worked herself to exhaustion and desperately needs to get what sleep she can before work tomorrow. Jack insists on taking care of his poor exhausted sunshine. He whisks her into his arms as soon as they're back in their apartment and carries her to the bathroom, setting her down delicately before the mirror.

...

A Small Taste of Sweet Temptation

...

"Don't worry about cleaning up the mess," Jack said, his smile so tender and warm. "I'll take care of that for you so you can get ready for bed. It's important to brush your teeth after eating so many sweets you know." He winked to offset any strictness that might've come from him switching to teacher mode.

"Thanks, Jack," Alice said, returning his smile with a tired one of her own. "I don't know..." She couldn't finish the sentence, the rest of her words swallowed by a yawn she failed to hide behind her hand.

"What you would do without me?" Jack guessed with playfully raised eyebrows. "That's what I'm here for. I'm here to take care of you and make you happy."

It was a risk, but Jack gave in to impulse and all the feelings in his heart that threatened to explode outward. He wanted so badly to kiss Alice, to get just one more taste of that sweet nostalgic flavor he knew were still lingering on her lips and tongue. He wanted that taste so badly, that heat and love that bubbled to the surface of his subconscious mind, those old memories he both feared and ached for all at once.

Jack wanted to claim those lips so badly. He knew her lips, tongue, and every other part of Alice was his. He knew it deep down in his soul. It was his by right, by love.

But it was too soon. As painful and frustrating it was to wait for so long... over 40 years already... Jack would wait forever for Alice, even if it meant that he might lose his sanity in the process. Just as long as she was happy and continued to grace him with the gentle warmth of her beautiful light, he would endure these dark impulses churning in his heart. If he gave in, he would become consumed by his greed for her and turn into a beast who only cared to capture the princess and lock her away from the rest of the world.

Jack wouldn't do that to Alice. He couldn't take the risk. If he gave in to those greedy whispers that screamed to claim her as his own forever, then he would truly lose her. He would snuff out that beautiful light of hers. He knew it. Being trapped alone in the dark was no way to live, even if this time they would have each other for company. He could never let her suffer the way he did for so long.

Jack would wait. He would wait as long as Alice needed to accept all of his love without fear or hesitation. That didn't mean that he couldn't appease his hunger for her, just a little... just a small taste of her beautiful nostalgic sweetness that he would die and kill for.

Alice was too tired to register how close Jack got to her when he bent down until she felt his lips brush against her cheek. It was just a peck, a small feather-light touch that drifted in and flitted away just as quickly, but it left behind an explosion of heat in its wake, searing the impression of his lips into her burning skin.

Jack smiled in pleasure at his sunshine's reaction and the fluttering feelings he stirred up in her that now radiated from her. He almost gave in to temptation to keep going, to coax that fire further, but he held himself in check, straightening up to give her a little space.

Not yet, Jack reminded himself. Beneath the warm happy notes he caught from her were the uncomfortable jolts of nervousness and uncertainty. Alice wasn't ready, not yet. He couldn't risk scaring her away and erasing their progress.

Today was enough. Jack would be content with just that flustered, confused look, and the faint taste of chocolate chip cookies and icing on his lips. "Happy Valentine's Day, Sunshine."

Alice fumbled for a moment to right her thoughts. The first thing to come to mind was to remind Jack that it wasn't Valentine's Day yet, but then he pointed to the clock on the wall.

"It's past midnight," Jack said in answer to her unspoken, half-formed retort. "And you need to get some sleep. You have a big day waiting for you when the sun comes up."

"R-right," Alice stammered as she brought her hand up over the burning spot in her cheek where his kiss still lingered on her skin. She turned away from Jack, then dropped her eyes to the sink after catching a glimpse of her bright red face in the mirror.

Too much. It was too much to handle right now. These feelings fluttering in her chest were too intense, too full of conflicting feelings, fears, and joys. Alice was too tired to think of the implications or justify what just happened. Instead she redirected her focus to snatching up her toothbrush in shaky hands instead of the confusingly familiar, warm feelings Jack filled her with, and the lingering guilt and old aches that crept in on the edges of her mind.

Movement out of the corner of her eye drew Alice back to Jack as he turned to leave. For some reason, the sight of his retreating back hit her with an anxious jolt, and she lunged for the doorway. "J-Jack!"

Jack went still immediately and craned his head to look back over his shoulder at Alice. "Yes? What is it, Sunshine? Do you need something?"

The way Jack looked at Alice made her heart do a flip and brought back the burning impression his lips left on her skin. She faltered, caught up in her emotions that threatened to overwhelm her completely. The conflict of wanting him to stay near but also needing to retreat from this man who was just too good to be true for fear of being hurt again left her frozen in place.

Finally, Alice forced a few words out past her suddenly dry throat. "Happy... Happy Valentine's Day, Jack."

Jack softened, and the tender smile he gave only to her seized her heart in a vice. "Happy Valentine's Day, Alice."

Finally, Alice could move again, and she quickly retreated back into the bathroom to get ready for bed. She could feel his loving gaze follow after her until she closed the door with a bit too much force.

It was too much for Alice. For now. But maybe one day...

When that happened, it would be a day of love greater than any Valentine's Day in the history of the world. Jack couldn't wait to celebrate that day and their love with Alice, his one and only sunshine.

...

Hahaha, I did not expect I'd get inspired to write anything in this post, let alone something so long, but inspiration ran away from me. Success! Maybe I'll polish it up and/or add to it to post on Sunshine in Another World sometime. Or maybe I can add this to Sunshine in Hell proper when I finally get back to writing chapters...

Alice's First Valentine's Day with Jack

Jack sadly won't get that kiss on the lips from Alice that he so desperately craves this year. He won't get that romantic dinner for two he wants, or to spend a day alone with her. He does, however, keep her company as she handles the rush of couples looking for any sort of eatery to take a date to celebrate the holiday. A yogurt shop isn't exactly at the top of romantic date spots, but it works in a pinch when reservations fall through or are forgotten until it's too late to book them.

It's chaotic, but Jack does his best to assist and distract Alice whenever he senses her thoughts taking a darker turn. He can't talk to her much when people are around demanding her attention. He hates having to share so much of her. He wishes to go back to last night when they were having so much fun in the kitchen together, just the two of them... and when a moment's impulse allowed him to step just that little bit closer to her.

But Alice needs money to live. It sucks, and it leaves Jack wanting, but this too is part of taking care of his sunshine's needs.

At least Jack makes things easier for Alice throughout the day. He woke her up to breakfast pancakes in bed, just like he planned. Sure it was a short breakfast, and it wasn't as intimate as he liked, but it allowed her to have a few extra moments of sleep before she had to get ready for work, which he knew that she was grateful for.

The lunch break offered Jack another opportunity. He couldn't move many things around for risk of someone seeing items floating in the air, since there were a couple other employees working with Alice that day due to the rush, but while everyone was busy working in the front, he could sneak around the back to get a little surprise ready.

Alice appreciated a hot lunch ready and waiting for her when she slipped into the back to get a break from customers for a while and a bite to eat. She worried about Jack risking getting caught by her co-workers using the microwave in the break room to heat up up the lunch he made and packed for her that morning. Fortunately he was quick to soothe her fears by emphasizing his cation before distracting her with some praise and sweet words that left her flustered.

Barry, of course, had Alice work extra late that day. Though he takes advantage of her all the time to work insanely long hours, she at least stands up for herself enough to demand overtime pay for all the extra work. Grudgingly, he gives in, because she's his most responsible employee. Cleaning up alone after a long, busy, and very messy day of work isn't exactly her idea of an ideal Valentine's Day... but at least she's not alone.

Jack couldn't help her while there were still people around, but when the store is closed and it's just the two of them, he can help her clean up. He's had plenty of time to learn the ins and out of her job as well as any employee working there by now. After the hard day she's had, it was the least he could do to help her when he finally could. He tries to take as much of the burden off her shoulders as he can.

It's not the romantic evening Jack wanted them to have, but her gratitude and warm feelings towards him are priceless. When Alice suggests they get pick up some pizza to take home once they're done, he's more than eager to accept.

It's not quite a date, but snuggling on the couch, eating pizza and homemade cookies baked with love is still wonderful. It feels familiar and intimate too, another side to those beautiful nostalgic feelings they stirred up while baking yesterday. Alice even surprises Jack with a special cookie she made and decorated just for him, which touches him deeply, even if she doesn't intend for it to be a romantic gesture.

They watch a movie, the next in the list Alice made so that Jack could catch up with all the classics he missed in the past 40 years. Although a romance movie would be appropriate for the holiday, the prospect and whatever implications that might come with such a choice are too much for Alice to handle right now. Still, the movie does have a little romance sprinkled in that spark small thoughts that she shies away from.

Jack wants to stoke those sparks to a roaring flame of love and passion, but it's a delicate balancing act. Pushing his luck too far makes Alice retreat, even making an excuse to go to the kitchen to make popcorn when they have plenty of snacks already.

The day isn't as romantic as Jack was hoping, but it was still special. He still got to spend the entire day with Alice, as well as the day before. They made priceless memories that he would cherish forever.

Jack hoped that next year their Valentine's Day would look a little bit closer to the one he dreamed about. He couldn't wait to shower Alice with all the ways he thought of to show her just how much he loved her... and to bask in the warmth of all the ways she would show her love to him in return.

For now, Jack finds contentment in her warm body pressed so perfectly flush against his, her cheek resting on his shoulder, her arm against his back. Alice even allows him to wrap an arm around her waist in return, and he relishes holding her so close and cozy. She doesn't think too much about his hand resting on her hip, and he doesn't dare move it to call attention to the intimate position, for fear of making her too conscious of just how much he enjoys the feeling of her soft, curvy body molded so perfectly against his.

Her family, Shaun, and her friends only get to enjoy the cookies and a few words written in icing or on a card. Jack gets to enjoy Alice. Those other people might have gotten gifts from her, but only he gets to bask in his sunshine's beautiful warm glow for the entire day. He's the only one that got to banter with her, play with her, indulge in a private moment of her working so hard to create confections that carried her love in them. Now he had her all to himself, close and safe in his gentle but secure hold.

Jack had Alice. That was all that mattered. No matter where they were or what names they used, when he was with his sunshine, he was home. By her side was exactly where he was always meant to be. Helping her shine so bright and beautiful was what he was meant to do.

That greedy dark temptation squirming inside him might want more than she's ready to give, it might demand Jack claim her lips or to allow his hands to wander to forbidden places... but he can quiet it for now.

The simple pleasure of this moment with Alice manages to appease those hungry urges, even if just barely. Jack can find peace and contentment with what he has right now. He's warm. He's loved. He can feel it so clearly. Her love might just be platonic right now, with just the smallest hints of something more, but one day Alice will love him just the way he loves her, deeply and completely. It's a truth written deep down in the depths of his soul.

Every bite of delicious nostalgia in those cookies Alice baked with love allow Jack to remember that he's finally home. His sunshine was the only true home that he had ever known, regardless of his name. She was the peace and happiness that he searched for a lifetime ago and would seek out forever more, even if his memories of home were stripped away from him.

Alice saved Jack from hell and brought him home safe in her arms. Whatever else he might crave from her paled in comparison to the security he felt in the gentle warm glow of her love, no matter what form it took.

Today was a day of love, and Jack was happy to spend it basking in Alice's love while showing her as much of his love as she was ready to accept. He had all the time in the world to show her just how deep his love for her truly was.

I think I'll wrap up things up on that warm and fuzzy note. This ramble gotten pretty long and I need to post soon before Valentine's Day is over. Thanks for coming along for this indulgent ride of fluff, worldbuilding, and story writing with my OTP. I hope you enjoyed this sweet treat. Happy Valentine's Day!

[proudproship]

Not so friendly reminder that creating "dark" or "taboo" fiction can be a sign of childhood trauma!

More below the cut. Warning: long post.

TW: Mentions of trauma, child abuse, and paraphilias

Hi. I'm someone who studies psychology and sociology, and someone who also happens to have an interest in this shipping discourse stuff.

So, back to what I said a few paragraphs ago: Creating "dark" or "taboo" fictional content can be a sign of childhood trauma.

How?

When a child goes through something they consider traumatic, their brain will play the situation on repeat subconsciously, which can cause hypervigilance and symptoms of PTSD.

A common sign of PTSD in young children is that they will reenact their trauma with things like dolls, drawings, figures, and basically any other thing they can use to express their thoughts.

For example, a child who has gone through physical abuse may reenact similar things with their toys, such as making their dolls hit or yell at each other.

This symptom isn't limited to children, though. It is a symptom closely related to the presence of flashbacks and nightmares.

Many artists will create a "self-insert" character, "sona," or a character who is otherwise much like it's creator; when an artist creates a character like this and also has past trauma, their symptoms may reflect onto their character.

Projecting yourself onto characters can happen with other characters as well, even if you didn't make the character.

This is a healthy symptom. It shows that the brain is willing to become stronger from their trauma.

Reenacting trauma in ways that aren't harmful can help the brain process what happened to them, and can even help them deal with their trauma directly.

In order to heal trauma, you must know what your trauma is; you can't heal a wound you don't know you have.

While dark fiction creators are indulging in positive healing mechanisms, certain people will shun them for doing so.

"Antishippers" claim to be the "heroes" and to support healing, even though the thing that makes someone be considered and antishipper is if they're "anti healing through fiction."

Antishippers will throw the same ableist rhetorics around by claiming "if you ship adult x child you're a pedophile!" or "if you have age gap ships (even if both are consenting adults) you're a pedophile!"

This, not only is it hurting trauma survivors (especially those who have been harmed by those with paraphilic disorders), it is hurting EVERY disabled person.

Armchair diagnosis is not something anyone should do.

It is when there is little to no evidence that the condition exists within a person, though people still throw labels onto them to make them seem like they're a "bad guy." (Usually.)

This is also hurting people with actual paraphilias. Paraphilic disorder is real condition characterized by intrusive thoughts of a (usually abnormal or harmful-if-acted-on) sexual nature.

Even if someone claims to not be ableist but still demonizes and villainizes paraphilias, they're ableist.

Ableism is ableism.

And before an anti decides to call me a "pedo-apologist," go right ahead! You don't know what you're saying anyways.

There is a difference between a criminal and a disabled person.

Proship people do not support abuse. Anyone who claims to be proship but still supports abuse is NOT proship.

---

Of course anyone who makes dark content doesn't have to have past trauma.

There are many people who make dark content that don't have what they'd consider trauma, or think their trauma is unrelated to the content they create.

What if they did experience something traumatic in the future?

They'd be able to cope with it better, because they'd seen it in fiction before, so they'd know the impact of it, and how they could handle it.

Of course, not everyone who indulges in fiction will be able to handle it, though.

However, no matter if they have past trauma or not, assume the best when it comes to content creators.

They're creative and strong, and we should be thankful that they're adding onto fandom culture by just existing and doing what they love.

All people, no matter what fictional content they create, are beautiful in their own way and should be met with kindness and compassion.

Do not go out of your way to harass/abuse innocent people.

Do not go out of your way to be ableist towards content creators and content consumers.

---

Thank you for reading my long post, I hope it helped at least a bit.

Have a great day/night and stay safe, no matter your taste in fiction.

Feedback is appreciated, and reblogs are encouraged.

[femmefighter]

Incoming rant - please scroll past to avoid this downer if you want.

I'm so disappointed in all of the events/fanart/servers/works etc that treat the Ahsoka series like the WolfWren or the SabEzra show. I got so heavily into Star Wars because of one character: Ahsoka. I was so freaking excited when they announced her live action series, and even more excited when, on viewing the trailer, saw that it was going to centre around multiple strong female characters! Seriously, I would jabber on to even non-Star Wars friends about how excited I was about the push of female characters in this show. And awesome female characters at that!!

I go looking for fan-created merch, be it artwork or clothing etc, and I am left so freaking wanting because everything is WolfWren. I am so starved for content that is of the main character of the show, I am at a complete loss at how the fandom has turned its back on such an incredible character for favour of a non-canon, self-proclaimed-toxic-yuri ship.

I know, I know, ship and let ship. I'm totally down with that. I love fandom art and fanfiction in general. I love me some gorgeous WolfWren art (not a SabEzra shipper, but that's a separate rant that we don't need to air, but I love their sibling relationship!). I might even love a bit of WolfWren fanfiction (very occasionally). And I have found one small, safe space on a server where I can safely indulge in my tiny little Sokabine tugboat of a ship (on Bo-Katan-centric server of all places, WTF? But damn I am so grateful for that space and those moderators). I know my ship is niche, (I don't know how, but anyway) I know I'm not going to find anyone who is as die-hard over my ship as I am. I expected that.

What I didn't expect was to find myself so lacking in Ahsoka-the-character content in fandom spaces supposedly dedicated to the Ahsoka show. Everyone loves a good ship, but the lack of other ships that could be celebrated from the show (NightDaughter, Herasoka, MonHera, ShinSoka, Morgbine, whatever!) I find is reflective of a lack of interest in the character traits of the individuals. To me, it seems like fans are more interested in an aesthetic than they are on histories, values and idiosyncrasies of the characters themselves.

Anyway, if you've got to the end of this rant, thank you for reading. Again, I don't mean to hate on such ships. I was actually just as excited as everyone else at how the actors validated WolfWren as a ship to enjoy, considering it was femslash fanfiction that made me feel less alone when I was a closeted teen nearly two decades ago. I'm just frustrated at the lack of space in the fandom for content that is different.

[dreamteammemes]

Extremely self-indulgent "Shit People Have Said" meme: warning for language and explicit content

"Photosynthesize on the haters."

"I miss ten seconds ago when I didn't see that."

"Why does Freddy Fazbear want you so bad?"

"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but if you want to make out, let's make out!"

"I went to the museum in Animal Crossing and everyone there knew you."

"The only thing that should be going into your lungs is air????"

"I'm going to name my kids Slim Shady and Draculara."

"Sometimes you just have to do ketamine with a horse."

"What? You're not coming to my tea party? (Name), I made biscuits!"

"72 virgins? Doesn't that seem like a trap to you?"

"You look like you're forlornly reminiscing about a lost lover."

"I pity you fishless fool."

"I just became conscious in the middle of saying this sentence."

"I ordered 37 Baja Blasts to impress the girl at the counter."

"(Name) is a bitch. They're a bitch on wheels."

"Who needs sleep? I've been up for eight days!"

"All birds are ducks but not all shrimp are brownies."

"You may be able to rotate my tires but can you satisfy a woman?"

"I'm married to myself. Why? I'm hot."

"I've created a situation."

"Please, call me by your name."

"I'm two much for these bitches and three much for these hoes."

"Look, the sign says I can refuse service to anyone that violates our policies, and frankly... I just really hate your vibes."

"This isn't a comedy bar; this is a Starbucks. Get your shit and leave."

"I’ve done nice things like not murder you even when I really wanted to, and this is how you repay me?"

"My hobbies include showing up in people's dreams and being dead."

"I may be a dumb bitch but I ain’t fucking stupid."

"I'm alive for two reasons. One, I was born, and two, I haven't died yet."

"No human language can describe the disappointment I’m feeling right now."

"(Name), if you remember, I hit you with my Gucci car and I'm sorry."

"I was possessed by the devil when I said that."

"You are going to die because I'm going to kill you."

"You're nothing but a dip ass shit."

"You blacked out after laughing at your own joke."

"Sometimes you just have to let go of the steering wheel of life and drift for a while."

"My neighbors like this song so much they threw a brick through my window so they could hear it better."

"Ask your doctor if these hands are right for you."

"I'm hiding my penis because people are out of control!"

"Sure, blame the guy who's a huge idiot who causes a lot of problems again."

"You’re a liar, wow I’m getting tired of this!”

"One day I'm going to say "fight me!" and someone's just going to fucking deck me"

[pinkkittysaw]

I AM AFRAID NOT OF LEAVING, BUT BEING FORGOTTEN

*the title is part of a quote from the book Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

pairing: clive rosfield x f!reader

summary: unable to deal with your bouts of insecurity, you try to call it quits on your relationship with clive

word count: 3.5k

content: hurt/comfort, established relationship, self flagellation (talks of insecurity and self doubt/deprecation), unhealthy coping mechanisms, allusions to anxiety, extremely self indulgent

(18+) this piece is sfw but am uncomfortable with minors interacting with my work

a/n: dealing with a lot of anxiety and thoughts of worthlessness/hopelessness so i created this in hopes of alleviating some of those feelings 👍

also if you’re interested, i listened to Need 2 by Pinegrove while writing this. figured it’d help set the mood while reading

divider by @/saradika

"You're still sleeping in the bunks? Clive returned yesterday, you know." Jill teases as she sits on the edge of the bed you've chosen to occupy for the past few nights. It wasn't unusual for you to reside in the bunks whenever Clive was away on an assignment; the big bed that occupies his chambers being too spacious to bear during nights spent alone.

What was unusual, however, was that you continued to spend your evenings there after he had already returned. Having once been so eager to jump into his sturdy arms after catching wind of his arrival back at the hideaway. You were often caught running down to the pier once the ferryboat came into view, excitedly waiting for him at the dock while waving your arms like a madwoman. When Jill heard from Clive that the two of you hadn't spoken since before he left, she immediately knew something was amiss.

"I'm aware," you grumble into the pillow that you're currently holding over your face.

"Did something happen between you two?" She probes, a frown forming on her features as she scoots closer to you. "Did he hurt you? Because I swear to Founder if he-"

"No, no, no, it's nothing like that," you interrupt, removing the pillow. "He's lovely. I just..." Hesitation creeps into your voice as your words trail off. To be honest, you're not quite sure how to describe what you're experiencing at the moment. "I'm feeling...unwell." Though it's not a physical illness that ails you, you hope that your response is satisfactory enough for her to leave the conversation be.

"Have you come down with something? I can help you to the infirmary if you need."

"It's nothing that serious. I'll be alright." You give her a half-hearted smile in an attempt to reassure her. She eventually yields, though still not convinced of your words.

With a shake of her head and a heavy sigh, she rises to stand. "He'll come looking for you sooner or later." Padding across the room from your bunk to the entrance, she looks back at you before making her exit. "You can't avoid him forever."

You scoff when she's just out of earshot. Like hell you can't, you think to yourself. Wearing your self-isolation on your sleeve like a badge of honor. Whenever you wanted to disappear from people's lives, you did, regardless of how much it hurt. This time was no different.

The truth of the matter is that you were avoiding Clive; the reasons for doing so were nobody's fault but your own.

In your eyes, you were so much weaker than he, often thinking you were undeserving of a man of his caliber. He harnesses the strength to take on entire eikons, whereas you peril in comparison, so after ruminating on your feelings of worthlessness one night, you decided to call it quits, figuring that it was for the best and choosing to avoid him so you didn't have to confront your own inadequacy. Perhaps it wasn't the healthiest choice, but it was the one you decided to go with.

The next few days are spent taking on as many assignments as you can, with the hope of eluding Clive. The majority of his time was spent away from the hideout, but you could never be too careful.

Rushing over to check the alliant reports at first light and carrying on well throughout the day. From dawn til dusk, you worked yourself to the bone only to collapse in your bunk at the end of the day, dead to the world, rising early from your slumber to repeat it all again the next day. 

Apparently, Clive caught on to your little scheme because, after one late afternoon, someone stood waiting for you at the pier upon your return to the hideaway.

After thanking Obolus, you make your way over to the fellow bearer to inquire about what's going on. "Clive's looking to speak with you in his chambers; he said it was urgent," she states.

"It can't wait?"

"He seemed rather insistent; best not keep him waiting."

"Of course, thank you for letting me know." You smile at her before making your way over to his chambers, grumbling to yourself. You climb the steps to his room with a pout on your face, not looking forward to the conversation awaiting you on the other side of the door.

After taking a moment to collect yourself, you extend your arm to gently knock on the door. "Come in." His voice calls out from inside the room.

You push apart the two slabs of wood separating his chambers from the main deck and step inside. He's sitting at his desk to your left, quill in hand, stripped down to just his tunic and trousers, his leathers and armor removed, while his sword rests against the wall. Fuck, you think to yourself. He must be set on staying a while. There's no escaping him this time.

You make quick work to occupy yourself with the objects scattered around the room as you move to stand in front of his desk. You're surprised to see a pile of your forgotten clothing neatly folded on the couch that sits against the opposing wall, as well as the various knickknacks you've added to his desk during your time together. Albeit an overreaction, you half expected your things to be tossed into the lake's abyss with how you were acting. 

"Ah," he says as he looks up from his writing, setting down the quill. "There you are. I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of having your clothes washed, should you want them back."

"But if not, I could always make space for them here."

Your eyes meet his as the statement leaves his mouth. It's an invitation, an olive branch extended to you in hopes of making peace. The implication of his words, the domesticity of it all, leaving bits and pieces of each other in one another's lives, even after all that you've done to push him out of yours, leaves a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, making you realize just how truly undeserving of his love you really are.  

A mumbled "Thank you" is all you can offer him in response.

"It's no problem." He stands up from his seat; both his hands lay flat on the desk below as he peers down at you. "I've heard you've been making yourself quite scarce lately."

"Your undertaking of assignments has increased significantly. It's almost as if...you've been avoiding me." He states it like a question, trying to gauge your reaction and see if you'll give him something he can latch on to.

"That's not true," you scoff. It is true, and you both damn well know it, but you keep up the facade anyway.

He exhales the breath he was holding, easing up on the interrogation. "I admit, I've been spending more time away from the hideout, but you can't seriously expect me to believe that your behavior lately is normal."

"I haven't seen as much as a glimpse of you since before I left."

Frustration grows in your belly; you're tired of running, tired of hiding, and tired of pretending. "I can't do this anymore, Clive."

"Can't do what?"

"This. Us."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just not good enough for you... or anyone."

"I shouldn't even be here. I'm not strong enough to fight alongside the cursebreakers," you gesture into the open air. "I lack the wit to come up with strategies to help take down the Mothercrystals, and I've got as much charm as a bloody morbol."

"I've read the missives from the past few days, all of which praise you for your tact, your kindness, dedication, and care. Just because you're not on the frontlines doesn't mean you're not making an impact."

"What good is any of it?" You raise your voice. "What good is helping with crops, fetching supplies, and slaying meager monsters if it's the next day that our people are led to slaughter?"

"The imperials tighten their grip across the realm with each passing moon, and what I do in the grand scheme of things is the equivalent of sitting on my arse twiddling my thumbs. I'm about as useful as a corpse."

"ENOUGH." His voice boomed and bellowed, loud enough that people down on the main deck probably turned their heads at the sound. "Sit," he commands, pointing to the couch across the room, and you dare not disobey.

Embarrassed that you've stirred up such a fuss, you sit yourself down on the piece of furniture and hang your head low, preparing for a scolding. Not that it wouldn't be deserved; Clive has enough to worry about with the Mothercrystals and bearers, now having to also quell the insecurities that linger in your heart.

Just suck it up and do better is what you've always been told, but try and try and try as you might, you can never seem to get there. You're never enough. Can your strengths even be called strengths if there's so many out there who can do everything you do but better?

You don't bother raising your head to him as he paces back and forth, not wanting him to see another weakness of yours in the form of your tears. He gives a heavy sigh as he collects his thoughts, pinching his nosebridge while searching for the right words. "I apologize for raising my voice, but I simply cannot bear how critical you are of yourself, especially when I know for a fact that your fears are unfounded."

He marches up to where you sit on the couch, caressing your cheek and nudging your face in his direction. You can't bring yourself to meet his icy blues, knowing your heart would burst at the seams under his gaze or the kind smile that he reserves just for you. You don't deserve it, not with the way you've acted, so instead you turn your head in the opposite direction, refusing to indulge in his affections. His grip is a tad more firm as he attempts to move your face once more. You don't have the strength to resist his pull, so you let him maneuver your jaw to face him.

Tears begin to flow down your cheeks, and your lower lip wobbles as you attempt to hold in your sobs. His eyes widen as he sees the state that you're in, and with a gentle finger, he lifts your chin up.

"Will you look at me, please?" His voice isn't as strong as it once was moments before. There's a small break in his tone, almost as if he's pleading with you. Feeling exhausted now, you lift your eyes to meet his. They're not filled with anger or disappointment, but with concern, and more tears pool in your waterline as you scan his face.

"Oh, sweetheart," he whispers, bringing his thumbs to wipe away the tears spilling from your eyes before sitting down beside you. He surveys your sullen expression before pulling you into a hug. His warmth surrounds you in his embrace, and a part of you hates how secure it makes you feel.

Always relying on others to get by, you'd be dead without him, and you know it. You're a hopeless, bumbling mess trying to find your way through a dark maze.

You cry more into his shoulder, soaking through his tunic with your tears, despite your best efforts to remain unfeeling and stoic. It's all too much all at once, and his comfort only agitates the ache deep within your heart.

"Let it all out; I'm right here."

"You're safe," he murmurs in your ear, stroking a comforting hand up and down your back.

"I don't deserve you, Clive."

"You don't deserve to see me like this," you manage to choke out between sobs. The force of your crying is so violent against him that you start hiccupping and gasping for air.

He doesn't respond to your claims, not yet anyway, knowing that doing so would only rile you up more—choosing to hold you instead, rocking you slightly from side to side. He waits for you to calm down before addressing you, and you don't attempt to speak again, your shortness of breath not allowing for any more words to be uttered. You allow yourself to rest in his arms like you've done many times before, and after a short while, your wails are reduced to nothing but sniffles.

Once you've become a bit more settled, he pulls away from the embrace only to fetch a hankerchief, giving you a few minutes to collect yourself. He sits back down with you, his free hand grasping yours firmly, grounding you. The weight of his fingers interlocked with yours serves as a reminder that he's here; he's with you.

"I apologize for the outburst," you say, wiping your face down with the cloth before shifting your attention to him once more.

"No need for apologies, my love. I'd much rather you cry in my arms than continue to bottle this feeling inside you and let it fester."

You look away from him, turning toward the gaps in the wall of his chambers where the sunlight peaks through. You stare out at the lake below, watching as the black water laps at the walls of the hideaway.

Your voice takes on a somber tone when you speak next. "You deserve someone better than me, Clive, someone stronger." The air surrounding you two is still but its weight is all too heavy.

"Don't be ridiculous," he chides, his body turning to face you as he throws an arm over the backrest of the couch.

"If only I was." You let your words drift off into the ether before speaking again. "You deserve someone who can bear the weight of her own burdens, who's strong enough to not fall apart at every small inconvenience, someone who doesn't need to run into the comfort of your arms like a petulant child. I'm not worth everything you do for me—the kindness, the generosity, the love—none of it."

He scoots closer to you, bringing a hand to grasp at your hip, his thumb stroking it back and forth. "Is that not my right as your lover? To see you at your weakest and most vulnerable and still love you anyway?"

"I'm nothing, Clive. It's been that way since the day I was born. I'm not worth trying to save, just deadweight that needs to be tossed overboard."

"You think I'm a sinking ship, then? that I can't ‘handle’ you?" He gestures in the air.

"I can barely handle myself. Let's just end this before it's too late."

"Don't I have a say in the matter? You're making all these decisions about us without so much as a forethought for how I feel."

"It's better this way."

"Better for who? The self-destructive thoughts in your head? Because it's certainly not better for me and I'd go as far to say that it's not what you really want either. So pray tell, what's the real issue here?Where is all this stemming from?"

You shoot a glare his way—a defensive one, but still a glare nonetheless.

He reaches out to cup your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. It feels like no matter what you do, it's always wrong. Here you were acting like a brat to the man you loved, and here he was, being patient with you like a saint.

You relent, letting him have a peek into the inner world that you've kept a secret all this time. "There's a horrible weight in my chest carried with me wherever I go, wrapped up tight in my gut like a ball of twine, and no matter what I do, it comes back. I can't shake it. I can't shake anything. I'm still here, a mess of fear and nerves."

"I'm angry, vengeful, and mean, but at the same time, I'm scared of everything, timid and fragile as a mouse. If weakness were a person, it'd be me. Sometimes it's a miracle that i'm even able to do the things I do. I rely on you too much, and it scares me."

"You're anything but weak, my love. In fact, I think being vulnerable and open like this takes immense strength." He continues to caress your face.

"I'm not strong enough to fight alongside you. I'm useless when it comes to taking down the Mothercrystals."

He chuckles. "If physical strength was all I cared about, I would have taken a brute as my lover."

"Clive…" You roll your eyes in a playful manner, appreciating his attempt at lifting your mood.

The sun is setting now, and his chambers are tinted with a pale orange-yellow hue. The light reflects off the water, and you gaze upon the lake below while his gaze lingers on you.

"Come," he states, extending a hand as he stands up from the couch. You take his hand in yours as he leads you over to the gap in the wall, both admiring the sunset together. It's a beautiful evening; the clouds are painted pink and orange as the sun dips below the horizon.

"I'm serious, you know," he nudges your shoulder. The beginnings of a smile paint your features—a smile that he takes as a small win.

"Clive, I-" He presses a finger to your lips, silencing you. "Just listen, please," you nod, and he turns, facing the scenic view again, the sunlight bouncing off the yellow tones of his skin. "Do you remember traveling to the Apodetry all those years back? When I couldn't grapple with the fact that I was Ifrit and very well may have killed my own brother?"

You don't say anything, but you nod, and then he continues. "I'm not sure if I ever would have come to terms with it if you weren't by my side." He lets out a small sigh. "You say that you can't handle your own burdens, that I deserve someone stronger, but the truth is, without you, I might never have been able to bear my own. I'm not sure if I'd be the man I am today if I didn't have you, so don't you dare imply that I'd somehow be better off without you."

"You're right when you said I don't need you. It is not a matter of need or deserving, my love, but a matter of want. I want you. I desire you so wholeheartedly."

"I know that I alone am not enough to quell these thoughtsof yours, especially after the life you've lived-" he turns to face you again, his thumb grazing the leftover scar on your cheek from the removal of your brand, "-but please believe me when I say that you do matter, and not just to me, but to everyone here, to every person you've helped, to every soul you've graced with your kindness. Would you say those who work in the backgarden are unworthy of being here, simply because they don't wield a blade and march in the frontlines?"

"No," you pout.

He smiles. "Then I implore you to extend that same kindness to yourself." He steps closer, moving to nuzzle your nose with his. "Though you're not taking down Mothercrystals, you're showing people that there's still hope—that kindness can still exist in a world where harsh cruelties befall those who never deserve it."

"A twinkling light is left with everyone you help, no matter how minuscule it seems."

"We chose this undertaking so that dominants and bearers alike could live the lives they choose. If a life of peace is what you want, then it's one that you shall have. You shouldn't be fighting each and every day just so you can make it to the next."

Both of your foreheads press together as he continues to speak. "You don't need to throw yourself to the wolves. You're done with having to earn through suffering. You're done having to prove your worth. You don't have to earn your right to exist and be happy, not with me or anyone else here."

He presses his lips against yours. "I love you," he whispers in between the kiss. "Your vulnerabilities, your fears... They are not shortcomings, my love. They are what make you who you are, and though I wish I could make your pain a bit more tolerable, I wouldn't change a single thing about you, ever."

He presses more kisses on your lips, sweet, loving, and gentle. "You are my strength, my everything. I love you so much."

Bathed in the dying light of the sun, you hold each other tender with a slow brushing of lips against each other, and though such demons of the mind aren't so easily bested, you're given a moment's solace in the warm embrace of your lover, knowing that no matter what ails you, you'll face it together.

"I love you too, Clive."

[whumpsonamo]

I forget how scary it is to try and put your own stuff into the world. I don't have a lot of time to work on my writing skills normally, or motivation, so I'm just working on this whenever I can and want to. I am fully aware it's probably not great. But hey ho we try and we learn.

This was more of my sort of introduction to Cable because I know so much about Tali - I have the second part already written it just needs edited so when I get around to that I'll (probably) remember to post it :)

The things we do for self indulgence.

====

#1 - A grand escape

Contents: Stranger turned caretaker, successful escape attempt, mentions and implications of previous abuse, brief mention of scars, whumpee convinced they're going back to captivity, slightly defiant whumpee, AFAB whumpee (if I've missed anything lmk :))

She can count the number of opportunities that she’s had to escape on one hand, and most of the time she is far too scared to attempt. She stares at the door to her ‘room’. Sitting open. The latch loose and the clanging echoed around her, encasing her. An opportunity. She can leave. She can leave, maybe forever? Holding her bed sheet closer to her, a barricade between herself and the world. 

Poking around new areas, at least seventeen years here and only a small section explored. A luminous green catches her eye, a door with a handlebar—a fire exit. 

She can’t waste time. Hearing a few panicked voices from around the corner, she propels herself forward, her feet catching on the blanket. Her knees meet the ground, and she forces herself to crawl until she’s able to pull herself up with the bar. A little scrape is nothing to her, not anymore.

Cringing at the loud squeak the door lets out, she lets it bang shut behind her. Watching as a new person walks inside towards Mr. Redwood’s office. Client? Or backup? Either way, bad news. She spots a few different vehicles she could hide out in, stuff herself in so tight that nobody looking for her could possibly find her.

Her heart beats out of rhythm in her chest, trying to escape its cage with her. Sitting in the bed of a busy pickup. Tucking herself between a few tyres, certain that this should be leaving, and she will be free. And yet.

A blurry figure approaches, she can barely see from out of the tyres, or without her long-forgotten glasses. A tyre is lifted and they make eye contact. He looks away, eyes settling on who she assumes is Mr. Redwood’s ‘friends’. 

She tries to discern his intentions, evil man or friend? Either way, her spine straightens and the pit in her stomach grows. The blurry brown eyes and slightly crooked nose are features that seem familiar on their own but together create a stranger. Her legs tingle, ready to bolt—not that she’d get far.

“They looking for you?” 

She wants to look away. To check if there’s someone behind her. Unable to tear her eyes away from him, he’s able to lift tyres without much form, so he’s got to have some muscle. She likely can’t outrun him, nevermind overpower him. Clutching her sheet closer to her chest, maybe he’ll feel bad for her, let her go.

Confusion and terror meet each other in their gazes. He’s got this contemplative look, but if he was a professional he’d know he has to keep his cool, and keep control. Amateur hour over here. 

“Right- yeah,” He taps his fingers against the tyre in his arms “I’m not going to tell anyone, but you might wanna get into the front though, cause I need to move these, so your little hiding spot won’t exist. Yeah?” His head points to the driving part of the truck.

Blinking a few times, so he’s going to trick her into safety? 

“Come on, before they get suspicious,” He pretends he’s grabbing something from the front, and she slips in. Ducking under the passenger seat. 

Time passes like waiting for the days to pass, for Perry to be the one dealing with her instead of Mr Redwood or Geoff, or even mr and mrs Bell. Painfully, and slowly. She can't risk being sent back, but she can't just blindly trust this person?

Maybe she should jump out the window and see how far she can get on foot.

The idea fades as exhaustion overwhelms her, resting her head against the passenger seat, the leather a better cushion than her old mattress. “Just two minutes,” Her eyes shut on her prayer for mercy. 

====

Fuzzy… Pretty sure one of the doors slammed. When she feels warmth that’s when her eyes shoot open. “Sorry sorry- Was just going to put you on the actual seat- you know, so that you’re not uncomfortable-” She furrows her brows at him.

Still disoriented she blinks away sleep. Mr. Stranger is touchy. Doesn’t mind invading personal space. She keeps those in the back of her mind, his eyes look softer up close, never good when it looks like they have a conscious so maybe he’s under threat and doesn’t want to hurt her but he has to because nobody willingly does things for Mr. Redwood unless he has something over their head, or they're his friend. He's too young to be a friend of Mr. Redwood though... is he?

Maybe if she tries to be assertive he’ll be terrified of her, and they can both escape from Mr. Redwood’s blackmailing… Yes. Genius. “I can get up by myself, thank you very much,” 

“Oh, right yeah of course, you just looked like you were sleeping pretty peacefully so I didn’t want to wake you up and make you move so I just thought- yeah okay,” 

She shakes her head before forcing herself to sit up, it almost feels like she’s climbing, reaching while her body screams at her to rest. She sits down, slumping against the chair a bit too hard - not very demure and mysterious, not very in control of the situation. Holding her blanket up again.

He clears his throat, smiling at her. “I’m Cable, by the way, I realised that we just kinda left in a rush and didn’t introduce ourselves which my ma would not have, so I guess for manners I’m getting one star, huh?” 

She stares in response for a few minutes no control over the small smile that lands on her face. Who in their right mind calls their child Cable? And she thought HER name was bad.

“Taliesin,”

“It’s lovely to meet you Taliesin, now how about we go home and you can wash up?”