#ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE I JUST IMMEDIATELY FINISHED A DRAWING

[bre4yd]

WIZARD GEM

(except its her student days)

[amiableness]

Dad!James Potter x Bsf!Reader ☼ 1260 words

series masterlist ; main masterlist this is part one of this blurb! the next part will be smut! this was supposed to one whole blurb, but unfortunately, i can't stop adding details

A week had passed since that toe-curling, heart stopping kiss with James, yet the memory clung to you, refusing to loosen its grip. Every moment replayed in your mind—the way his breath had mingled with yours, the warmth of his lips, the intoxicating mix of hesitation and desire that had crackled between you. It was impossible to shake, no matter how hard you tried to push it to the back of your mind.

But life, as it often does, had intervened. Work had been intense for both of you. His late nights at the office, followed by early morning school drop-offs, and your endless deadlines and marathon meetings had drained you both, leaving little room for anything else—especially the conversation you so desperately needed.

But you were hoping tonight would be different. He’d asked if you could watch Henry, and you’d never refused him before. And you weren’t about to start now.

“Darling?” Henry mumbled, his voice carrying that endearing tone that always made you smile. As he grew older, the nickname was losing its childish lisp, becoming clearer and more deliberate with each passing day. You couldn’t let yourself dwell on it, knowing it would bring you to tears. And as much as it weighed on you, you couldn’t even begin to imagine how James was feeling.

“Yeah, my love?” You hummed, your eyes still fixed on The Rescuers playing on the TV. Henry had insisted on watching it in James’s room because he wanted to “see the mice all big.” At first, you hesitated, unsure if being surrounded by James’s scent was a good idea. But Henry’s excitement was impossible to resist, and you found yourself giving in, despite your nerves.

“When is daddy back?”

“Um,” You glance at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Soon I would think.”

“Oh.” Henry murmurs, shifting closer to cuddle into your side, his tiny hand reaching out to grasp yours. The two of you are nestled under the dark duvet, surrounded by the seven stuffed animals he insisted on bringing along. “I miss him,” he whispers, his voice tinged with quiet sadness.

“I’m sure he misses you too.” You say, offering him a gentle smile. He looks up at you with those unmistakable eyes—his father’s eyes—brown and sweet, carrying the same warmth that James’ have. His dark curls fall messily across his forehead, a mirror of James’s unruly hair. Even the curve of his smile, so innocent yet so familiar, pulls at your heart. It’s impossible not to see James in every feature, every expression, and every little gesture Henry makes. 

All you can think about is James.

“Do you miss daddy?” Your lips part, flustered and caught off guard by the question. For a second you debate lying, but you realize there’s no point. 

“Yes, I miss him too.” You finally murmur, and Henry’s face lights up with a grin, as if he’s just heard the most wonderful thing. He turns his gaze back to the TV, his attention returning to the movie, while he snuggles his stuffed dinosaur tightly in the hand that isn’t holding yours. The sight of him, so content and secure, tugs at your heart.

The movie has long finished and another has begun, but you’re oblivious to it all. Henry is fast asleep, nestled into your side, and you’re not far behind. Your focus is solely on threading your fingers gently through Henry’s dark curls. The rhythmic motion that had soothed him to sleep now lulls you as well, your eyes growing heavy with each tender stroke.

“Hey.” James murmurs with a warm, inviting smile, immediately drawing your gaze to the doorway where he stands. His white button-up shirt is casually open at the collar, the top two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chest. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and as he crosses his arms, the fabric tightens over his biceps, accentuating their firm definition. Your eyes slowly trace down to his forearms, where the veins are subtly prominent. The combination of his relaxed stance and the his snug shirt makes your pulse quicken.

You resist the urge to fan yourself.

You swallow hard, struggling to pull your gaze back up. “Hi,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grins, and you know instantly he’s caught you. “What are you two doing in here?” He asks, walking further into his room, glancing down at the stuffies with a soft chuckle

“Henry missed you,” You say softly. “That and he wanted to watch a movie on the big TV.”

“Of course he did.” James says with a soft, knowing tone. He rounds the bed and settles next the side closest to Henry. With a gentle touch, he brushes a few stray curls from his son’s forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment. Then, leaning down, he places a tender kiss on Henry’s forehead.

“I’m going to put him to bed.” James says softly, his voice soft as he looks up at you from his kneeling position by the bed. You nod quickly, your words caught in your throat.

You watch as James moves with practiced ease, sliding one hand tenderly behind Henry’s back and slipping the other under his knees. He lifts him carefully, his movements gentle yet confident, raising Henry up and off your chest. As hedoes, Henry lets out a soft whine, his small face scrunching up in a mix of sleepiness and longing. With a tiny, outstretched arm, he reaches toward you, his fingers stretching as far as they can go, desperate to grab you.

“No.” He huffs, his eyes opening the tiniest bit to glance up at his dad.

“It’s bedtime.” James says softly, drawing Henry close to his chest and gently reaching down to grab the stuffed dinosaur Henry clings to. 

“No! But I—” Henry protests, wriggling in James’s arms. He twists around, casting a desperate look over his shoulder at you. “I want mummy.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and your eyes dart to James, wide with shock. He mirrors your surprise. With one arm securely wrapped around Henry’s squirming body, he struggles to keep his son from wriggling free. Henry’s little face is flushed with frustration, his eyes locked onto yours as he reaches out with tiny, pleading hands, desperate for your comfort.

“Do you want to say goodnight to mum before bed?” James asks quietly, leaning down to speak into Henry’s ear. Henry stops squirming instantly and nods. Gently, James places his son back onto the bed, and Henry immediately flings himself at you, wrapping his arms around your neck. He collides with you with a soft thud, and you hear James mutter about being gentle with you.

“Goodnight,” You say whisper, one arm holding him to you and the other holding the back of his head. “I love you bunches. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” Your eyes flicker up to meet James’ who is watching you with an indescribable look.

“Love you.” Henry mumbles, the sleepiness in his voice affecting his pronunciation. Then he leans back and plants a big kiss on your forehead, mimicking the affectionate gesture he’s seen his father make so many times. You laugh quietly and press a kiss on his nose in return. Satisfied, Henry crawls back to his father and lifts his arms. James picks him up, his gaze lingering on you.

“I’ll be right back.” James says softly before heading to Henry’s room. As he walks away, Henry peeks over his shoulder and waves a tiny hand at you.

please reblog or comment with your thoughts! they are very appreciated and keep me motivated to keep writing! 🤍

part two here!

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Cat got your tongue (Percival de Rollo x Half Tabaxi!Reader)

synopsis: Percy liked to believe he wasn´t territorial or easily jealous, but something about seeing you with Vax makes his blood boil.

warnings: jealousy, marking, smut, afab reader

word count: 0.9k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall

A/N: Thank you @kawaiiangel906 for this request and I am so so sorry it took me so long to get to it. I hope you still enjoy. <3

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

Dividers by @saradika

Laughter sounded over the grounds of the keep from outside all the way into Percy's workshop. Not even concealed by the sounds of the white-haired man tinkering with a weapon. It wasn't like he had much concentration left for it at the moment anyway, but what little was left of it before fled faster than it had come to him. This had been going on for far too long in his more or less humble opinion. This thing between you and Vax’ildan. Not a thing, as you had reminded him countless times, fur covered ears twitching at the idea of it alone. Worries temporarily stifled with a sweet kiss to the forehead and a deep hug. Filled with whispered confessions of love.

Grumbling under his breath Percy makes his way out of the keep.

“Percy!” You immediately jump up and run towards him, a wide grin on your face.

Percy’s eyes lay on Vax for a moment longer, who sits left behind on the grass where you had just trained with him, looking right back at the two of you. When Percy's eyes snap back to you he can see your mouth moving. Had he really not heard you talking this entire time?

“I'm sorry, my love. Could you repeat yourself?” He asks  the back of his neck.

“I just told you about my training with Vax… Are you not feeling well?” Your eyebrows draw together tightly.

“N-No, it's nothing. I am quite alright. Thank you.” Percy takes a hasty step back to avoid your hand coming up to feel his temperature. “Perhaps too much time in the workshop. I am happy that the progress you and Vax’ildan are making is to your liking.”

“Come sit with us then. We were about to be finished for the day anyway.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the other taking him to pull him along.

Night has never been particularly calm amongst the group either. Most certainly not since you had obtained the keep. Laughter and the sounds of people drinking into the early morning hours traveled easily. But this night's rest was particularly hard to come by. It could. Your bones hurt from the extensive exercise each day and the fights in between. Just not with a certain someone distracting you from the sweet release of slipping off to slumberland by needy lips grazing over the skin of your shoulder blades and teeth nipping at the column of your neck.

“Percival…” You groan. “It is late.”

The words come out mumbled and somewhat unintelligible. Still you turn your head until you can see the white head of hair from the corners of your eyes. One heavy hand finding its way into the light tresses to play with them.

“You have barely spent any time with me or anyone that isn't Vax’ildan lately.” Comes the equally mumbled response against your back.

He doesn't stop what he is doing until you are awake again and turn around fully.

“Love…” You begin a sentence but are quickly shut up by the possessive grip pulling your waist impossibly close to his.

“Shhh. This will just serve as a reminder to the others that you are mine.” Percy's teeth nip right below your jawline. Sucking on the tender flesh until deep purple bruises bloom all over.

Pressed into the mattress by his lean hips, you writhe and mewl helplessly. Subconsciously, your own hips begin to grind up against his after a while. Unable to just take it anymore.

“More.” You plead in high pitched tones. No matter how much you try, your voice just won't stay down.

“Nuh uh uh. What's the magic word, dear?” Percy reprimands you with a smile on his face.

He can feel the movement of your hips as well and it is a game to him. He is fully in charge of you and your pleasure in this moment and he knows it just as well as you do.

“Please, Percy. I need more.” You try again with your tail wrapping tightly around Percy's middle to prevent him from possibly pulling away.

“See, that wasn't so hard. When you ask nicely people will be far more inclined to give you what you are asking for.” He slides down almost unnoticeably, pushing up your nightdress, until his chin rests against your sternum, just underneath the valley of your breasts. Scattering more purple spots over them and then wandering further down. A puff of warm breath bringing your legs together around his shoulders. With a chuckle and two fingers, Percy opens them up again.

“Now, let everyone hear who you belong to.” The words echo in your ear as only moments after, his length impaled you in one rough thrust.

A groan in unison fills the room, on one side from the sudden stretch and on the other, because in response your claws shot out and dug into his shoulders. The rhythm with which he starts thrusting into you as soon as he recovers, has you near screaming. Moans of his name and desperate pleas string together to a sort of prayer. The sweetest prayer Percy had ever heard in his life. Until he has driven you over the edge so often that your throat is sore and your body is a twitching mess. Brain so clouded in fog that you can barely concentrate on anything beside his body against yours.

As you lay beside each other, entirely spent, Percy's hand trailing over your side, a satisfied purring fills the room from your lungs. Not even strong enough to keep your eyes open any longer, you are finally granted the relief of sleep. Dreaming of only one man. The one right beside you, who at that moment felt you were his completely. Pressing one last kiss against the back of your neck as he drifted off to sleep as well.

[lucabyte]

obligatory ramble about postcanon loop ask

also your art is amazing

Hiiiiiiiii :D thank you :)!!

and thank you for the excuse to post the. just absolute wall of text that i truncated down to form the tags of that post. (i did,,, hit the tag limit. i forgot tumblr had one of those...) so let me just paste that and tidy it up a bit...

I am putting this under a readmore because it's a bit long. but:

This is like. The General Context for all* of my postcanon doodles? (Except AUs obviously) Like this is the base idea I've been drawing them all in. So, feel free to backread with this in mind. I've basically had this 'postcanon' timeline set in my brain since finishing the game...

My general thoughts are that I like the idea of Loop (even if through dubiously ethical means) being able to slowly reintegrate with the party as a whole new person, because they are, in fact, their own person.

It's a muddle of thematic threads im pulling on and "wouldn't it be fucked up if", but. (at its core, it's powered by the fact that like, while narratively isat's theme of 'the only person who can truly take the first step to help you is yourself'. (wrt: loop helping the party help siffrin in act 5) which i LOVE AND IS GREAT NARRATIVELY…. would be super fucked up irl to learn that your friend 'learned as a lesson' while you stood by kinda uselessly. I know i'd be upset about it. but thats mostly background here. doesn't really come up. at least not until loop has to explain who they are and the party realises they had to fall back on literally themselves again for help, but i digress,)

The real core concept is: Occam's razor. It is like, inherently, a buckwild thing to accuse a person of being somehow a clone or copy of your friend. Even if they start vaguely alluding to a backstory it's far more likely they were some other person before all that. (I still think Odile has that theory in the back pocket but she's rational enough to know it's a really long shot without a solid explanation. and i think Loop deep down knows this, and would, if cornered into confessing, turn the situation around to go J'ACCUSE and make HER explain it instead. Ever longer dodging being direct with their emotions...)

And the party are nice! And if someone has changed and wants to keep stuff secret it's kind of not their business? (Though it's hard not to speculate… see: the main joke of the doodles) And they seem important to Siffrin so they just try to accept them abrasive quirks and all. And eventually the question of their prior identity just fades away since, well, they're Loop. Their friend Loop.

but yeah. personal headcanon is that a few months/weeks after picking up and getting aquainted with Nille** (since that was presumably the IMMEDIATE TASK postgame), Loop reappears (either after a literal period of nonexistance, or just spending a few months wandering the french countryside alone being attacked by wild dogs). Since Siffrin has had a while to be therapised by the party they're doing mostly okay, but Loop showing up and still being agitated/aggressive pulls them both into a bit of a backslide behaviourally and puts the party on the back foot again.

Hooowever, I do think that due to no longer being literally stewing in the worst pressure cooker of all time together, the two do mostly actually sort themselves out with productive conversation. (Via a cycle of: genuinely distressing argument -> weeeird lovebombing -> ok we're good -> repeat, that gets less intense over time)

Thus, allowing the party to just. Integrate loop as a new person. They and Siffrin shuffle into different ecological niches (Loop taking over stuff Siffrin is now too squeamish for, etc (see: hunting, mostly)), and while it's not exactly what Loop wanted they generally get that beggars can't be choosers and it's a pretty good deal. And the rest of the party does straight up just like them as a friend, especially when Loop quits trying to actively antagonise them after a few weeks of being around them, since they just can't keep up being mean to people they like forever.

As for how I think the truth eventually drags itself out. This is where I invoke The Isabeau Torment Nexus™. So its gonna get shippy here for a bit hold on.

Which is, I think giving them time before Loop reappears long enough that Siffrin and Iseabeau actually manage to become established, Isabeau has to be the one to nudge the pair of them and go. "Hey. You know we're in Vaugarde right. I'm okay with polyamory if we all communicate." Before Loop and Siffrin actually even acknowledge that whatever the fuck they have going on kinda looks a lot like a relationship of some kind. (or have already been agonising about that via fighting and arguing, depending) (Obviously this comes after Isa "Emotionally intelligent enough to keep a lid on the jealousy" Beau has managed to use that big brain of his to Not just go Scream somewhere on the daily because oh godddd they keep talking like theyre suicide-baiting each other jesus chriiist. is it overstepping his boundaries to bring that up?? god)

This, taking a bunch of the tension out of Loop and Isabeau's relationship (Since I imagine Loop is a. being weird for the obvious reasons and b. feeling kinda guilty about 'getting in the way of' Siffrin and Iseabeau), allows them to actually get close in a normal friend way. (I think an interesting turning point could be Isabeau actually taking Loop's side in an argument vs Siffrin, which would absolutely break Loop's brain. Especially if it's an argument that matters. Like what do you mean he isn't just going to play favourites. What?)

Then Isabeau, just actually open minded and charmed by Loop (and maybe even somewhat at Siffrin's suggestion?) tries to close the final open side on the polyamory triangle here and that's the final straw for Loop on "This lie by omission is too unethical to keep up, this is just actually sick and wrong. I can't do this while he doesn't know who I am." Though. Obviously it probably goes. Very poorly with emotions high like that. And the added element of several months of deceit. Getting dark here for a second but that dagger is going MISSING and so are THEY for a hot minute.

Then yaaay everything works out in the end 👍 yippieee!! all it took was maybe a lot of harrowed recontextualisation of all the weird shit your new friend said and did when it turns out they're your old friend. It's fine.

But yeah. this is basically the context all of my postcanon doodles have existed within? And those exist to give other people something to chew on. So this does too.

I suppose TL;DR: Imagine if sloopis almost fucking happens before isabeau knows who loop is. can you fucking imagine. can you imagine having to navigate that. nightmare.

*Yes this includes the implied cannibalism comic. Uhh. Comes part and parcel with headcanoning that Loop went way off the deep end similar to A5 Sif But Maybe Worse before giving in. Add weepy half-asleep confessions to murder wherever you see fit in your mind palace. 👍👍👍

**Re: Nille footnote. I don't have anywhere to put this besides here! I have some thoughts on Loop and Nille having an odd dynamic. I don't imagine Nille to be super gung-ho on trusting a bunch of adults (even if they are majority around her age) given their implied backstory. It's probably a big shock to the system, especially since Bambouche is a good couple hundred Kilometers up north from Dormont and these guys don't seem to have trains. She would've been unfrozen and without Bonnie for some time....

Which is to say: I think she's suspicious of them. I think she may be looking for excuses to distance herself, keep Bonnie safe. SO.... A new guy showing up? And antagonising the party? What do they know that I don't...? I should find out.

And since... Loop didn't ever know Nille, they have no ammunition or real reason to be cruel. Plus, if they're trying to stay on Bonnie's good side (SINCE... if Bonnie thought Loop was cringe they may as well kill themselves. In their mind.) they SUPER have no reason to antagonise Nille.

Mostly, they might be able to open up to each other easier than they can the rest of the party?

I feel like this resolves with Loop feeling compelled to apologise for what they and Siffrin let happen to Bonnie, though... Hmm... Depends on how you interpret Nille that they'd be glad nobody else had been told about that yet, or furious it had been secret this long. I lean toward the former.

[sunarots]

BETTER THAN REVENGE! ━━━ tooru oikawa & rintarou suna

18. say it ♡

cw. implied sex

You lay back on the grass in Kuro's back garden, staring up at the stars in the sky as he plays the finished album through a speaker. You balance your half-full cup on your stomach, where it will stay until you decide you want another sip. For now, you just want to stay with Rin's arm beneath you, his side pressed against yours.

Kenma and Atsumu are sat trying to decide what flavour to put in their vapes next, Atsumu scolding Kenma whenever he tries to convince him to use the pear flavour he's yet to try. Kuro sits near them, trying to keep his cigarette lit for as long as possible so he doesn't have to go find a new lighter.

Rin looks longingly at the cup just out of reach from him, desperate for another drink yet finding that he doesn't want to have to move. Instead, he hopes that just by looking at it he might be able to get some of the alcohol into his body. Turning his head back to stare at the sky, he can hear you quietly humming along to the songs playing through the speakers. A small smile starts to tug at the corners of his lips.

Sighing, you raise the cup from its spot on your stomach and prop yourself up on one of your elbows, chugging it in its entirety. You consider going back inside to pour yourself another drink, or immediately lying back down with Rin so you don't have to go without his warmth. However, before you can make the decision, his arm has moved from behind you and he's shuffled away from you.

You use your free hand to push yourself up, waving the cup when you spot Kuro looking at you with furrowed eyebrows. You step up onto the decking and through the open glass door, walking straight ahead to the kitchen island where he laid out all the drinks and a cocktail shaker that hasn't been used since he bought it. Yet, he insists on taking it out every time because it makes him look classy.

You set down the cup and scan over the bottles in front of you, deciding to pour yourself the same as last time. Before you can swap the booze in your hand for the mixer, a hand is placed on top of yours and carefully takes the bottle away. You look back at Rin, who's pouring himself the same as you.

"I think...we're fucking geniuses," Rin says quietly, flashing you a wide smile as he pours in more alcohol than mixer.

You match his expression, passing him the juice before saying, "Oh, I know we are." He laughs, topping up his drink.

You pick up your cup and take a sip, resting your back against the counter. You can't fight fluttering in your stomach, nor the tingling when his arm brushes yours.

"Can I... Can I talk to you about something?" Rin's voice is soft, careful to not startle you. He waits for you to nod your head before he turns to fully face you, taking a long drink before setting it on the island. "I... I think I'm in love with you."

You turn your head to look at him, scanning over his face. He waits patiently for your response, his finger drawing a pattern on the counter beside him. "I know," you whisper, feeling your cheeks beginning to warm. "Me too."

The corners of his mouth tug upwards into a slight smile, picking up his cup that he'd placed. "Say it."

Raising an eyebrow at him, you watch as he takes a sip of his drink. "What?"

"Say it, or I'm not gonna believe you," he repeats with a small smirk, shrugging his shoulders.

You take in a deep breath and try to fight the heat rushing to your cheeks. "I'm in love with you, Rin." You manage to get it out without breaking eye contact with him.

Rin downs what he's just poured into his cup, discarding it behind him. You copy his actions, dumping the cup in the trash behind you. His hands cup your cheeks, pushing your hair out of the way before pulling you closer to him.

When his lips touch yours, everything around you stops. All that matters to you is him. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you, fully pressed up against him. He tastes like cigarettes and alcohol, something you know will linger forever. His hands drop from your cheeks, leaving a trail of fire across every part of you he touches.

His hands grip onto your thighs, pulling you up and sitting you on the counter. You flinch away from him when something behind you shatters, one of the empty glass bottles knocked onto the floor. Rin fights back his laugh, his hand in front of his mouth.

"What the-"

You peer past Rin with your legs still around his waist, giving Kuro a sheepish smile as he stares at the two of you with an unreadable expression. Rin starts laughing even harder as you hide your face in his chest, an attempt to avoid any scolding from the host.

"Are you kidding me? No, get off the counter!" he exclaims, shoving a finger in your direction. "You are not fucking in my kitchen! Animals! Go out to your car. Now!"

Rin looks back at you in amusement, glancing in the direction of the front door as a way of asking if you wanted to. You nod your head and go to push yourself off the counter, his arm around your waist stopping you. He lifts you up and over his shoulder, ignoring you as you try to convince him to put you down. He holds you tightly by the legs, looking over his shoulder and shouting a goodbye to Kuro.

"Rin! Put me down! I'm gonna fall!"

He sets you down by his car and looks at you with offence, a hand on his chest. "Have I ever let you down before?" When you don't respond, he smiles a little more. "Then trust me. You won't fall if I'm near you, babe. That's a promise."

masterlist. previous | next

summary. as a world-famous singer, everyone knows everything about all of your relationships. namely, your renowned on-again/off-again relationship with one tooru oikawa. it’s hard not to when every song you write is about him. but no one truly knows all of the gory details of all your dirty breakups, except from the two of you. and after announcing in a drunken red-carpet interview that you never want to see his face again, everyone starts desperately searching for the truth behind your twisted relationship. and just when you think you can escape these rumours, in comes a job opportunity your band can’t turn down.

taglist (open!). @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @iaminyourfloors @rrosiitas @v3nusplanetofluv @draculauracullen @lollbecca @honeytwo @wakashudou @tojirin @makki0s @alexithemiyatic @aboutkiyoomi @hermaeusmorax @theepitomeofswag @qyoongi @esunarint @frootloopscos @kimigiri09 @sweetlyvibe @hhoneyhan @jlly1 @nizaii @mdmraz

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

fluffy kid!stancest first kiss on glass shard beach would be so cute maybe by the swings or when they first find what would become the stan o war

combining these two together, but 2nd anon PLEASE know your ask got me writing old stancest at first that immediately turned hurt and comfort, so i'll be posting that when i actually finish it udndhdhdu this one is a bit of a rush job, BUT i hope you guys like it! this is my first time writing kid stancest, trying to run my head over how boys just banter and this is the best i could relay lmao. also if ford's internal dialogue isnt as flowery as it ought to be, it's mostly because i do still want it to sound like it's coming from a child, and i imagine Ford's internal dialogue wasn't fully realized until he's at least a littls older, you know?

anyway enough stalling: please enjoy!

~~~

Ford thinks he could stay like this forever.

Sitting on a crate, Stanford watches Stanley draw on the sand with the end of a big stick, planning all their great adventures when they finally get out of this place, the promise of their Big Day of Adventure made them giddy all day, bouncing on the heels of their feet all over the beach until the deck guys they "borrowed" a can of paint from earlier found them, chasing them off and forcing the two of them to take cover. They did, only belatedly realizing they had to come back for their ship since their dream did rely on them fixing up the boat to be in top condition for it to sail. Luckily they didn't take their ship, so the two of them were able to push it back into the alcove they found it, keeping it their own little secret.

Ford looks at it in awe again. In bold letters, "The Stan O' War" stares back at him. Their promise of the future. A future with his brother, forever

"And then— Poindexter are ya listening?!" Stan asks, tapping the stick lightly on Ford's head who swats it away with a laugh.

"Yeah, yeah! I am, I am!"

"Good, cuz you better hear this!" Stan resumes drawing on the sand. Ford looks down, tilting his head quizically.

"Why are we standing on top of the sun?"

"That's an octopus!" Stan points to the pile of squigly lines Ford thought had been the ocean. "See?"

"That's still kinda impossible."

"Aw, shuddap!" Stan scoffs playfully, then proceeds to draw fish tails with long noses and circle ends.  "Of course its possible! This is after I killed it, and we're doin' a victory cheer on top of it!" Stan pumps his fist in the air, and begins chanting, echoing loud across the alcove: "PINES! PINES! PINES! And after—"

"Wait, how did we kill it?"

"I beat it up, duh!"

"What did I do?"

Stan huffs. "You math, science and bored it to death, you big nerd," he says with an annoyed expression, which quickly gives away to snickers as he dodges the fistful of sand Ford throws in his direction, leaving a grainy cloud in its wake. Stan points back at his drawing, at the long nosed fish with lines protruding off the top. Until Ford blinks, and tilts his head again, realizing that the messy scribbles are probably meant to be... "Anyway, after we totally beat this giant octopus monster, all the mermaid babes will be all over us! They'd give us kisses, and hugs, and and–"

Covering his mouth with his hand, Ford snorts loudly. "Stanley... you want to kiss fish ladies?"

An offended look crosses Stan's face, and if it wasn't for the sunburn already staining his and Ford's skin an angry, blistering red, Ford could swear Stan was blushing, his cheeks puffing, brown eyes wide and fists clenching. Cute, Ford thinks, so quickly, he almost doesn't catch it.

But he does.

Just like how his shoulder catches Stan's fists, sending him to more fits of giggling as he goes down.

"Shaddup, shaddup, shut uuuuuuuup," Stan continues his playful assault, clearly trying to not to smile, but Ford's laughter catches him like the infectious bug that went around school three months ago, and his grin stretches wild as he pushes Ford to the ground, and planting himself on Ford's short legs. Ford's hand land on his shoulders, trying and obviously failing at pushing off his stronger brother with all his twelve fingered might, but maybe it's because Ford is laughing too much he's out of breath, chest shaking while he heaves his giggles. Maybe it's the weird but nice heaviness Stan is forcing on him, and Ford counts that as the fifth time this day Stan made him feel that: 'weird but nice.'

Yesterday was seven whole times.

"Get off me, jerk!"

"You're the jerk," Stan argues, catching Ford's hands and pinning them down to the sand, grinning at Ford who's completely caught under him. "You've been making fun of me the whole time!"

"No I wasn't! I think it's cool you wanna kiss fish ladies!"

"They're not fish ladies, Sixer! They're mermaids!" Stan argues, looking a lot like Ford when he exasperatedly explains that solving the daily crossword on the newspaper is not lame, just with the additional large gap between his teeth, bandage on his face, cute puffy cheeks, which almost sends Ford to another laughing fit. "Mermaids are cool! No, they're hot!"

"If you say so," Ford shrugs, feeling the soft grains of sand move against his back. "They'd smell like fish though, but I think you would like that."

"Pfff," Stan lets go and straightens up to blow a raspberry, tilting himself to flop onto the sand next to Ford, moving so his fingers brushed Ford's when at their hips. Sixth. "Like you're any different. I bet you have a lot of weird stuff you wanna kiss too. You're obsessed with your ano– anama—"

"Anamolies."

"Aliens. I bet you wanna kiss aliens."

"No I don't!"

"Yeah, you do!"

"I don't," Ford insists, but he's definitely thought about it. Not in a weird way, of course. He wonders about kissing a lot of things, like growing boys do, like the health developmental sections of science books say so! Girls. Boys sometimes.

Boys most of the time.

A boy, most of the time.

"If you say so," Stan repeats dismissively, stretching his arms over his head while Ford watches behind his glasses. Feeling the sand starting to get to that 'pointy, sticky and annoying' state when someone lays on it, he sits up, eyes landing on the Stan O' War again. Stan follows, quickly sitting up.

"What'cha thinking of?"

"Just wondering the capability of weight distribution on the boat."

"Uh...."

"I wonder if it's actually strong enough to hold us up to sail. We're gonna have to fix that up before we take it to the water, remember? Maybe it's not even built for two people."

The last part came out of his mouth without thinking, and Ford is alarmed with the quick moment of doubt. For a second, their dream seemed a little impossible.

Stan pushes himself up, and runs to the stationed boat.

"Stan? What are you—"

"Keep up, Sixer!" Stan exclaims, grabbing onto the ledge of the boat, and suddenly Ford is running after his brother. All caution thrown out of his system when Stan lifts himself over the edge and on top of the boat's deck effortlessly.

"Stan!"

"Look, Ford, it's fine!" Stan exclaims, arms spread wide and standing victoriously. Ford grabs hold of the ledge, and tries to lift his legs over, only to almost fall off with a "Whoa!"— until Stan's hand latches onto his.

"Hold on," Stan tugs until Ford's body lifts high enough for him to wrap his arms around Ford's shoulders. He grunts, pulling the rest of his twin's body with all his strength before falling onto the deck, Ford landing on top of his legs.

Somehow, they find themselves almost exactly as before, just in reverse, skin still grainy and sticky and hot-red, Ford's chest shaking again but this time it's from panting in the short burst of physical activity. His face close to Stan's, Ford feels a bubbling in his chest, a little tingle all over his skin. One he wants to blame on the summer heat still simmering outside the cave or maybe the sunburn all over his back and torso, but it's not that.

Seventh.

"You're kinda heavy for a stick, Sixer."

Ford punches his shoulder this time, smirking. "Shut up, jerk."

"Now you hate it," Stan comes back smugly, then glances down at the deck. "Hey, look! It can hold the both of us after all!"

Remembering his previous concerns, he looks down on the boat, then raps his knuckles onto the floorboards. It's actually pretty sturdy for how old Ford theorized it to be. That's pretty cool.

"Guess we can cross that out of the stuff we have to fix up," Ford concludes. He pushes his glasses over his nose, thinking deeply again. "Still have a lot of stuff to consider though. Plus, who knows how much bigger we'll get too..." He muses, mostly to himself.

So many to consider... Ford doesn't think even his freakish hands could count all the ways it could go right, or wrong, if it goes anywhere at all... it's kind of big, and open, and Ford thinks it's almost like the ocean itself.

"Eh, don't worry about that stuff so much, Sixer," Stan shrugs, his voice breakjng through Ford's train of thought. Ford realizes he's still very much on Stanley's legs, and maybe it's because all the running, pushing, wrestling they've done all day that completely wrung him out, or maybe it's because the warm bubbling in his chest that overflows and keeps his own legs stuck like sap, but unlike Stan, Ford can't bring himself to move off, move away from Stan. His brown eyes wide, grin with a goofy gap in the teeth and cheeks puffing, Stan looks ready to sail off right then and there.

"As long as you've got me, we can do everything. We're getting out of this place no matter what."

Ford smiles warmly. Somehow he could never get tired doing that around his brother and that's weird. It's nice. His hands find Stan's shoulders, and without thinking, he blurts out:

"Stanley... It wasn't aliens."

"Wait, wha—"

And Ford presses his lips to Stan's. He doesn't really know how to do this. It's kinda gross, with Stan tasting like sand and sweat from rolling around it all day, but so did Ford and getting past that, it just feels good. Almost on instinct, he pulls away panic rising at throat, because Oh no, Stan will think I'm a freak too.

But Stan leans forward too, almost knocking Ford's glasses away and also not knowing what he's doing, but it feels nice. Really, really nice.

Eighth.

Ford thinks he could stay counting those forever.

~~

If you like this send another prompt or a prompt of your own! Hope you liked this anons, be it sufficiently fluffy enough lmao

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 79)

Uzi was sitting on the couch, burying her face in an aeronautical engineering book for the umpteenth time. Sketching out ideas for heat shielding on a notepad, Tera on her lap, inquisitivly watching her mother draw and holding onto her bat plushie.

If she was being honest with herself (which, of course she wasn't) she would admit that it was somewhat difficult now for Tera to sit on her lap like she used to, her baby bump was now fairly obvious, she could still… somewhat, hide it underneath her hoodie, but even then if someone was paying close enough attention they would notice that something was different.

And it was of course at this moment, V crashed into her apartment. The door whipping open suddenly and startling both girls out of their shells. Tera chirped loudly and Uzi very nearly cursed.

“Back, took pictures.” V said bluntly, making Uzi take a deep breath to surpress the urge to beat her over the head with whatever she had in her hand. (A notebook, it wouldn't hurt, but still.)

“Okay. A. Thank you.” Uzi hummed, before her face fell “B. Bite me! You didn't have to scare the crap out of me!” She grumbled, standing up and resting Tera on her shoulder. V smirked, before her eyelights shifted down to Uzi's midsection.

“Huh. You can actually tell now.” She commented, which immediately made Uzi feel self conscious, she wouldn't lie and say that the visible change to her body wasn't off-putting.

“It hasn't been that long since you saw me.” Uzi pouted, turning slightly away from her ‘freind’. V clicked her tongue.

“How are you holding up?” V asked, ignoring her statement and tone much, much softer.

“Fine. Still don't know why you care so much.” Uzi replied, and V looked at the floor for a moment before Uzi got several pictures sent to her over short range, she filed them in a folder titled ‘MYSFLESH:/’

“’Fine’ isn't an answer.” V pointed out, crossing her arms, her attitude was normal grating on Uzi's nerves, but with everything else she had to stress about, it was genuinely beginning to piss her off.

“It's the only one you're getting. Now if you're finished doing everything in your power to make my day harder. I need to look over these pictures.” Uzi turned away, from the door, a sure way to tell V to fuck off, but unfortunately that did not happen.

“You're carrying, N can't be here all the time. It's… It's my responsibility to fill in when he's not here.” Uzi tensed up at V's words, hitting her like a sack of bricks.

“Your responsibility?” Uzi parroted back at her, whipping around to glare into V's visor. “Why is it your responsibility?”

V, for once, looked genuinely nervous about what she was about to say, her tail pressed flat against the floor.

“I don't-” She growled at herself, as if she was fighting her own programing. “It just is! I don't know how to explain it!” She finished, exasperated and throwing her clawed hands forward, showing more emotion then Uzi had ever seen.

“It's unbearable!” Her tail suddenly sprang up, kinking in several places before it went back into its default position. “I don't wanna be here either, but it's so much worse when I'm not!” She yelped, like a dam that had just cracked.

Uzi stepped back, alarmed at the sudden outburst. V began to pace back and forth.

“I-I think the worst part is that I don't entirely hate it! I want to! But you're not actually terrible, you're stubborn as hell and get on my nerves-” V grunted, whatever was making her agitated seemed to suddenly deflate, making her stop her pacing and rest her head within the palm of her clawed hand.

“Ugh. Freaking- God Dammit. I don't actually hate your guts, and I do actually care if you live or die. Happy?” V finished, a small golden blush displaying on her visor, crossing her arms.

Uzi took a moment to process, before snickering into her hand, making V blush harder and growl irritability.

“Do not.” V warned, but now her threats were empty, they always were, but now there was no pretending otherwise.

“Aww. V, that's like, the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” Uzi smirked, watching at V's tail thrashed like whip, displaying her discomfort.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” V replied, breifly looking away before her eyes came to glance at Uzi from the corner of her visor, Uzi was smiling.

And so was V.

-*-

“Alright. Alright. Settle Down!” Khan was standing up a stage set up in the WDF training course. The aforementioned equipment haven been deconstructed and put away, the rows of seating in it's ‘stadium-esque’ design being perfect for holding a bunker wide meeting.

Speaking of bunker-wide, every drone that made their home within the bunker was scattered throughout the seats, a rainbow of different eyelight colors staring back at him, even so seeing everyone in front of him made what he already knew more obvious.

There weren't a lot of them left…

The soft murmur of voices quieted, and Khan cleared his throat, looking back behind him to the other two drones with him. Uzi, sitting with her legs crossed and arms crossed, refusing to look ahead at their audience. And N, who was standing at stiff attention at her side, for once, Tera was not with them. Instead, V was looking after her, offering almost immediately.

He turned back to his audience, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you all for coming. I know everyone is curious on why I called this emergency meeting. So I won't waste time.”

He nodded to N, who nodded back and lifted his hand. A large yellow hologram of Copper-9 appeared above them, enough for everyone to see, it drew so much power from N's systems his eyelights and headband dimmed and he winced.

“This is our home, we've worked, fought, and made lives here for over a hundred years, not always independent, but always here.” Khan’s voice wavered.

“Right now, however, this is what our home looks like.”

With some effort on his part, N's hologram changed, one hole opening up, then another, and two more, until the surface of the planet was reminiscent of Swiss cheese, pockmarked full of holes. Images provided by V's scouting trip.

And out of each one, tentacles reached up out of them, pulsing and wiggling wildly, the audience gave a collective wince, several people gasped. And a few straight up burst into tears.

“After through study, it has been determined that twenty percent of the planet has already been consumed, the rest will follow within six months… give or take.” He continued, the waver in his voice was obvious now, but he powered through. N changed the hologram again, letting a fleshy substance cover the frozen surface of Copper-9.

“My daughter has come up with a plan; one that I will let her explain.” He suddenly turned to Uzi, N's hologram fading out and his glow returning to near normal, though an exhausted look flickered across his face.

Uzi took a deep breath, replacing her father's place on stage, feeling the mic attached to her shirt, heavy as lead.

“I know I don't have the best reputation.” She started, her voice croaking slightly. She balled up one of her hands, all the eyes boring into her as she felt her core speed up. “You all know me as Khan’s outcast, rebellious daughter, the one that brought the murder drones into the bunker.”

And so, so much more

She thought internally.

“But believe me when I tell you I want every single person here to make it out of this situation alive.” She nodded at N, who gave her a small smile before, with another wince, brought up another large hologram.

This one was of a shuttle, large enough to fit the entire bunker, though still very much only a concept.

“The cause of the infection is currently unknown, but the flesh that's spreading across the surface is deadly, contact with it causes rapid assimilation, and a loss of all bodily autonomy.” She paused for a moment, realizing she was speaking as if she was reading out of textbook.

“Zombification, in layman's terms.” She clarified, the audience was dead silent, but with another steadying breath and an even tighter grip on her own palm, she continued. “Our best option is complete planetary evacuation.”

There was a murmur through the crowd, one that Uzi was expecting.

“I hear you. This is our home, we've always lived here. And that kind of change is scary.” She was happy she had pre-written this speech with the help of her dad, otherwise, she would have definitely flubbed something up by now.

She had to give credit where credit was due, Khan knew how to write a speech.

“But leaving is a chance at survival, more then that, it's our chance to truly divorce ourselves from our past as nothing but tools for our creators.” At that she could hear several affirmative mumbles, she thought that might have been a good addition, there were many old drones that still remembered being slaves.

“From today, my plan is to build an escape shuttle, reverse engineering the landing pods already here to head to somewhere where we can start again.” N's hologram showed an image of a landing pod, before switching to a new planet, one covered in greenery instead of ice.

“Without all of us working together, this won't work, so I'm asking each and every one of you to pull together for this. Not for me, but for your family, your neighbors, your friends. And help make this a reality.”

She finished, finally, feeling satisfied with what she had said.

“Those in favor. Head down to the right of the stadium. Those opposed, to the left.”

Despite at this point needing to sleep for several sunlit days, N gave a last hologram, two arrows pointing left and right.

Uzi took the opportunity to check up on him, walking back towards him with a concerned frown.

“You okay? I know you haven't been sleeping well, and that took a lot of energy.” With everyone gathering below the stage, Uzi felt safe enough to place a hand on his chest. He gave a small smile.

“I'm good.” His hand came up into a thumbs up even as Uzi could see the ‘low charge’ symbol blinking at the corner of his visor. “You passed out this morning, I should be asking you.”

His hand came to rest on her baby bump, giving her a very tired grin as the hologram flickered slightly. “Baby has you exhausted too, I'm really proud of you for making this speech.”

She blushed, taking another glance around to insure no one was watching them.

“Let's just hope it was worth it..” Uzi blinked, did… did she just say that twice? Because it was either that or… the mic was still on.

She gasped, looking down at the mic attached to her, still blinking green, showing that it was indeed on. She looked back up at N, who looked equally as shocked. And she quickly turned it off, looking back at her dad, who had apparently been trying to get her attention this entire time, and now was just smiling sheepishly.

The stadium was dead silent.

Like a character in a horror movie, she slowly went to check on the rest of the stadium, the seats now all empty. She peered over the side and-

Not a single person was present on the left, every single drone voting in favor of Uzi's plan, when she was noticed back within view, she got cheers, she could hear congratulations mixed in with the “you go girl”s and straight cheers.

She began to tear up a moment of relief hitting her before the mortification she just announced her pregnancy in front of the entire bunker caught up.

She looked back at N, his hologram now gone, while he shrugged his shoulders with a smile, although a look on his face that was asking ‘are you alright’

No was the answer.

But even still, the plan was set in motion.

Next ->

[starsstuddedsky]

Blonde Phase

Renjun x gn reader

summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?

genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,

warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any

wc: 4.4k

a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3

“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”

He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”

You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”

“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.

“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”

“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”

“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”

“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.

“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.

“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”

“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”

“I did not!”

“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”

“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.

“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”

You frown. “Tonight?”

“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”

“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.

He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.

And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?

.

.

Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.

“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.

“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.

You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”

Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”

“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.

“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”

“Seriously?”

Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”

You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”

“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”

“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”

“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.

“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”

“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”

“Those were their exact words?”

“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.

“That’s more on brand.”

Renjun nods.

You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?

“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”

Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.

You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”

You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”

He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.

“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.

“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”

When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.

He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.

“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”

You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”

“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, ��that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”

You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”

You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?

To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?

“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”

“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”

“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”

You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.

“‘So, hair,’” he says.

“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”

This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”

You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”

.

.

“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”

“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”

Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”

You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”

He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.

“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”

“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”

You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.

You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.

You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.

He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”

You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”

“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”

You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.

“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”

“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”

“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”

“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”

“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.

.

.

The timer goes off halfway through an episode.

“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”

“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.

You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.

“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.

You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.

“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.

You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.

He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.

“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.

His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.

Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.

“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.

You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”

“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”

You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.

“I’m right,” Renjun says.

You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”

“For what?”

“Doing all of this for me,” you say.

“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”

You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”

Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.

You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.

“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.

“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”

“Not really.”

“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.

“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”

So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?

Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.

“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”

He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.

“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”

Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”

“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”

Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”

You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.

“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”

“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.

“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.

“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.

It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.

Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.

“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”

“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”

“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”

“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”

You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.

“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”

Renjun grins.

“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.

“I thought you liked it!”

“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”

“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”

“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.

“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Don’t underestimate them.”

You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”

“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.

“You like it?”

“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”

You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”

Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”

“We could have matching couples hair.”

He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”

“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”

“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”

“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.

Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.

“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”

You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.

“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.

“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”

For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”

“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.

You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”

He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”

His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.

There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.

thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

[reddeaddamnation]

"Possession vs Obsession" - Sub-Zero x reader x Scorpion- Chapter III

Summary: An arranged marriage between clans in the name of peace ironically disturbs the peace of the two brothers who find themselves in a new feud. This time between themselves. Betrayal and heartache had been destined for them since she entered their lives. Y/N of the Shadow-weaver clan, promised to Bi Han, future Grand Master of the Lin Kuei, stands in front of the difficult decision- to end the war between their clans or end the war within the Lin Kuei temple.

"Outworld scum." Bi Han growled quietly watching the four armed creatures settle around a campfire, where some kind of meat was roasting. They sounded animalistic, talking in sounds only a beast would make. They didn't suffer from Tarkat. No, these beings didn't look like Tarkatans either. They had human like arms, long legs with backwards facing joints and elongated faces with jaws of a wasp or beetle. They had small, atrophied bat wings, which seemed to be useless, as they only walked. "We have to destroy their camp and kill them."

Bi Han briefly explained that they posed a threat to Earthrealm, as they poured in bunches out of some kind of portals and kidnapped lonely travelers and helpless people from their homes in villages. In front of the ninjas at the moment were only a dozen. Thankfully, from their position up on a cliff, they remained unseen, so they could create a plan. At least that was what Y/N was hoping.

"I will not be standing around you at all times like over a child." He glared at her briefly "So I hope you can fight and not hold me back." During their day of travel to this location, he had not uttered a single word to her if she had not started a conversation. And even then, he still replied with as less words as possible. It was getting on Y/N's nerves at this point. "You won't even hear a yelp from me." She glared back at him. "Come on then. Let's see if you're worthy."

The man jumped down, followed closely by Y/N, who took the form of a mist of shadow to safely land behind one of the beasts and slash it's throat. Black blood oozed out of it and the guttural noise it made startled the rest who immediately jumped from their places to attack. Conjuring spears from shadows, two were impaled straight to the ground. Sub Zero punched his way through several and smashed one's head with an ice hammer.

Y/N disappeared again, evading swords slashing at her and passed through the small croud, confusing them. Again, appearing from behind, she impaled two more on her shadowy blades and threw them to the ground. She turned around to see one of the monsters raising its sword to strike at Bi Han and with lightning reflexes, she threw a shuriken at it, making it stumble just in time for her companion to notice. He briefly looked at her with an expression she couldn't quite make out before finishing the job.

A scream gave out the position from where the next attack would come from and she managed to grip the armed hand that was swinging at her by the wrist. She could not protect herself from the punch that followed tho, making her let go and stumble backwards, allowing the sword to slash her arm. A kick to the stomach sent her flying back.

Y/N raised a figure of a robed shade skeleton, which flew right into the mouth of one of her own attackers. Moments later, he exploded in a heap of black blood. She could not escape, however, from the surprise attack from behind her back. An arm wrapped around her throat and another held onto her arms. Her attempted kicking was futile. A blade flashed in the side of her eye, pressing into her throat and drawing blood.

A chill ran down her spine then. The creature froze in place, quite literally at that. Its head was frozen and crushed, making both of them drop to the ground. When she regained her breath, she looked up at Bi Han, ready for a mouthful about how he wasn't going to save her and whatnot. That did not happen. He hesitantly extended his hand for her to take and pulled her up from the ground. The unexpected behavior caught her off guard.

"Are you hurt?" He asked quietly, looking at her face... anywhere but her eyes... meek like a kitten. She shook her head no. "Just some cuts and bruises. Nothing serious." Bi Han's eyes lingered on the deep cut on her arm which was bleeding quite a bit. "You're bleeding!" He stated, raising his voice, just barely. "I said I can handle it!" Y/N insisted.

Attempting to step away, she felt light headed all of a sudden. Bi Han noticed her stumble and quickly closed the gap between them to catch her before she fell. Her wound was deep...deep into the muscle and close to the bone... and bleeding. Fast. There was no way they would make it to the temple in time. He needed to stop the bleeding. Or he would never hear the end of it from his father and brothers...

"Bi Han..." the girl looked into his eyes with her own, half lidded, weak... He laid her down next to the fire to keep her warm. Gripping one of the metal rods from inside it, he pressed it to the wound to cartherize it. The smell of burning flesh and blood filled his nostrils. Y/N shrieked in pain, digging her nails into his bicep. "Listen to me, assassin." He commanded through gritted teeth, wincing from the pain "Stay with me. Don't give up."

Sub Zero threw the rod aside and ripped a piece of his cloth to wrap it around the wound. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped for now. He held her close to his chest, allowing her to rest as much as needed before they depart. "You are a good fighter." He spoke "I underestimated you." Just to keep her listening to his voice so she stays conscious "And I thank you for saving my life. I return the favor to you." Just to stay conscious...that's what he thought... "You risked your own for mine..."

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p.6 (ellie’s journals)

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: a significantly different writing voice! this is going to be a very different vibe from the other chapters since i had to write it as i imagine ellie would (which is a lot different than i do). slight nsfw content (mdni), language, mentions of violence/gore, angst, ellie’s pov is actually really depressing

a/n: soooo i know it’s been almost 3 months...and i’m really sorry about that! a lot of stuff happened in my life and i kind of fell off writing for quite some time. but i finish series, so i’m going to get through exoplanet in its entirety so i can finally give you all closure. some preliminary notes: know that these are modeled after how i imagine ellie would journal if she did journal this much. canonically she didn’t do that much writing that follows a narrative like it does here. i think it’s honestly a little ooc for her to be emotionally responsible enough to talk out her feelings, but given that there’s no other way to tell her side of the story (save for legit rewriting it from her perspective, which would take another 6 months or so and be horrifically repetitive), i decided to just suck it up and write it. i’m sorry if it sounds awkward, since she definitely doesn’t write in a voice that i have much experience with. the next chapter will be better!

word count: 5.5k

tags~ @intrnetdoll @dazedshoon @lovecaraya @pctcr @sariyaflowr @loser-keiji @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @elliesbabygirl​ @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower @muthafuckingstargirl @elliewilliamsissubermommyoml @eviestevie-14 @quicksilversg1rl @guacala @crtcrp @overtrred28

(i haven’t updated this yet bc my tags aren’t working)

a special special SPECIAL thanks to both @roarriita and @elliesflower​ for being soooo sexy and betaing for me. you both are so wonderful and helped me sm in feeling good enough to post this :)

without further ado, enjoy ellie’s journals!

January 20th, 2038

Today’s been…fucking…

I don’t even know where to start. I don’t get why this sort of shit always happens to me. First it was being bit and somehow surviving. Then it was getting carted off across the country. And now some girl basically falls out of the sky, claiming that she comes from some sort of paradise up North?

I’ll spare the immediate details. I don’t think I’ll forget the basic stuff—her name, the way she looked clutching at her knees in the clearing and shaking. That stupid shirt she had on and that expensive scarf.

I still want to believe that she’s just a liar who happened to get lucky with running into us, but even without Joel vouching for her story, I don’t think I’d ever be able to buy that she’d been living in the same world as us. I’ve never met someone without scars before. I didn’t know that there were people out there who didn’t have marked up arms and faces. Or people without calluses. Did you know that hands can be totally smooth?

Anyway. Tommy says that he’ll try and reach out across the contacts he has. Joel has her living right down the hall from me in the meantime, so now I have to share my bathroom. Hopefully the Terranovan authorities are good at finding people. She takes so fucking long to shower. It’s a wonder the whole compound still has hot water.

[One page of drawings follows: Dina smiling in the snow on her horse, Joel playing his guitar]

January 25th, 2038

Maria says that they’re thinking about breeding Shimmer soon. I know she told me because that means I’ll need to ride another horse for a little until she recovers and I know that we need another generation of foals, but it still made me cringe for Shimmer’s sake. She’s too free-spirited to be a mother. She doesn’t deserve that.

I went stargazing last night. It was pretty. Lots of shooting stars. I ran into the girl while I was coming back from the meadow. She gave me a weird look, and I could tell she wanted to ask me where I’d been but kept her mouth shut. Sometimes I regret dropping off that bag of clothes. I really fucking liked that gray sweatshirt, actually. I’m not even joking. It looks weird to see it on someone else.

[Half a page of drawing follows of the night sky with labeled constellations]

February 5th, 2038

Long time no see. I’ve been pretty busy with patrols and helping Maria with securing the walls. Joel made me try some of that coffee that our new house guest brought. It was just as awful as I remembered, but he seemed happy. So one point for the space girl. I guess.

Dina’s been hanging around more. She just broke up with Jessie (yes, again). She swears that it’s for good this time, but I’m not so sure. She also talks a lot about Y/N and what little detail she’s gathered about her life back in Terranova. I thought teasing her by asking her if she had a crush on Y/N would make her talk less about it, but it just made things worse.

I miss when things were normal.

[One page of drawings follows: one of Shimmer in cross-ties, another of a girl’s face, half-finished with the face scribbled out]

February 12th, 2038

Today I’m sad. I’m in bed with that book about astronomy that Joel nabbed for me on patrol a while ago and there’s a section I wanted to read that’s completely waterlogged. It shouldn't be a surprise. It’s decades old and has survived through an apocalypse. Normally things like this don’t bug me much because I’m so used to it. Half of my Savage Starlight collection is damaged. I don’t think I’ll ever find the first book to actually complete the series, and that’s okay, because I’ve never expected anything more. But now that I know that there’s a world out there where I’d never have problems like this, stuff like this hurts. It’s so stupid. I’m lucky to be alive. Compared to what’s left of the world population, I live a much cushier life than most. But for the first time in a while, I’m wishing for more.  

“Greed is the enemy of happiness” is what Maria would say if I ever said this kind of shit out loud. But is it really? Or is it just realizing what life can be?

[Half a page of a drawing of the solar system, with each planet labeled]

February 22nd, 2038

Maria let me pick the sire for Shimmer’s foal. It felt kind of gross, to be honest. I asked Maria if there was any way for Shimmer to choose and I was only sort of joking, but she just laughed anyway and patted my back. I won’t have to worry about finding a new horse for another two seasons or so, she told me. It’ll be weird not having her for a little.

She also told me that there was still no word from anyone who knew anything about Terranova. She said this to me in this placating voice, like she thought that I was going to punch a hole in the wall or something after hearing it. That seems to be common when it comes to people talking about Y/N and me. I don’t know why so many people think I don’t like her staying with us.

I don’t, by the way. Let me be clear. But I mostly feel indifferent about her now. She doesn’t bother me as much anymore, not since she started getting out of the house. I think she might be helping in the gardens, but I’ve never actually asked. We don’t talk a whole ton. I don’t think she likes me all that much.

[A drawing of Shimmer’s head poking over her stall door that takes up one page]

March 2nd, 2038

Today was finally our first nice day of the year. I would’ve enjoyed it more if the bird that lives in the tree outside my window hadn’t blown me out of bed at 4 in the fucking morning. I’m exhausted now. It’s been a long day. Joel says I need to take Y/N out on patrol soon. Why, I have no idea. Maybe he just wants me to actually befriend her or something, and I do nothing but patrols now. He can’t possibly expect her to be a good patrol partner.

Thankfully, I checked the logs when I came back. The route he wants me to cover with her has been the quietest all season. I doubt we’ll run into anything. If we do, I’ll probably be able to handle it. Hopefully.

[Half a page of doodles, mostly of nature and wildlife with the exception of a half-finished doodle of an arm clad in a fabric that drapes like silk and a hand with polished nails]

March 3rd, 2038

Many surprising things were learned today. I can’t believe it’s illegal to be gay in Terranova. Sorry. I shouldn’t laugh. It’s just—out of all the things they could be bothered by, it’s that? Really?

March 12th, 2038

I haven’t been good at journaling recently. I don’t really want to talk about why. You know why.

[Six pages of drawings, with many unfinished doodles of Y/N—including but not limited to her on her horse, her reading on the couch, and one with her sitting in what is a very loose interpretation of a classroom, taking notes]

March 13th, 2038

I will feel more normal tomorrow. Hopefully.

[Two pages of drawings, all of Y/N. One is her bent over a book, the other is her smiling up at you]

March 14th, 2038

I did something really stupid. I think I should probably just document this here so I don’t accidentally drunkenly spill it all out to Dina at the next bonfire. This is so embarrassing. I don’t get why I feel this way. It’s so stupid, you know? To feel anything towards someone who’s so…I don’t know. Different.

She gives me the weirdest looks sometimes. I can’t tell what they mean. It feels like she’s judging me. And why wouldn’t she be? I bet all the girls she spends her time around back home are just like her—perfect, orderly, pretty, proper. The day before I took her patrolling she gawked at the shorts I was wearing. It was borderline offensive. Actually, fuck that. It wasn’t borderline. It was offensive. You don’t just stare at people like that. She should know that.

Anyway, I invited her over to my room last night. Normal, right? Because we’ve been doing that a little since I took her on patrol, by the way. I’m not sure if I mentioned that before. But this time I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m…I don’t know. Creepy? Strange? Scary? She told me that she thought I was intimidating. And then I called her “untouched”, like how some old-timer devout Christian wackjob or whatever would describe virginity. It was so fucking weird of me. I don’t know what got into me, but she kept doing this thing where she kicked my foot with hers or touched my knee and it just threw me off. It took me forever to fall asleep last night—I kept replaying what I’d said to her, especially how I’d told her that she wouldn’t have made it if she were me like I was some sort of hardcore survivalist. I think I embarrassed her. I’m never doing anything like this again. I’m going to be dead sober every time I see her from now on.

I’ll stop talking about that. Y/N did come back after I’d made a fool of myself and showed me her collection of movies, so maybe it wasn’t so bad. I haven’t watched any movies since I was with Cat. When we first started dating, I’d invite her over and she’d sit right where Y/N did last night. I’m trying to not think of the implications, because it’s space girl, and she’s going home sometime soon.

[Three pages of drawings follow—some nature drawings of ferns and moths, others of Y/N with wet hair, her knees tucked up to her chin like she’d been in Ellie’s bed that night]

March 19th, 2038

It’s the Spring Equinox. That’s the first thing Y/N told me this morning when she saw me in the kitchen this morning. She gave me a mini lecture on what that meant for the planet’s axis tilt and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I already knew, since she seemed really excited to tell me.

I made a horrible discovery yesterday, by the way. Maria came up to me and told me that Tommy had decided to reach out to some of his other buddies up North to see if they had any connections to Terranova, and for the first time, I felt myself hoping that it wouldn’t work.

It’s awful. I shouldn’t be thinking like this. Even in Jackson, where things are comparatively much better than the rest of the world, there’s risk. Just this winter, one family had to be kicked out when they were found hiding an infected son. No one here is completely safe, just safer. I shouldn’t be selfish. Y/N needs to go where she’s meant to be, where there’s no chance of infection or invasion. I’ll be fine. I just need to get over whatever this is.

Speaking of her, I need to go get her to tell her that we’re heading out on patrol in just a few minutes. Fingers crossed she doesn’t accidentally shoot me, but Joel swore up and down that she knows how to handle a gun now. Sure. Haha.

I’m back. It’s the middle of the night and she only just left my room. I don’t know how much detail I need to go into—chances are I won’t forget this. But for bookkeeping purposes: patrol did not go so hot. I had to give her stitches without any local anesthesia. I’ve never given stitches to anyone nearly in my lap before. I was really nervous, too. I don’t think I’ve ever had to focus so much on keeping my hands steady when it came to stitching someone up before, not even with Joel.

I’m starting to think that maybe I was wrong about thinking that she didn’t like me. I still can’t tell exactly what she thinks of me, and I know that it’s a really bad fucking idea to be entertaining thoughts like these, but tonight she did something that made me reconsider. She got under the covers with me, and instead of moving away to keep us from touching, she rested her head next to mine on the pillow.

I hope she couldn’t hear how much my heart was racing. People can’t hear that kind of stuff, right? Even if they’re close?

I’m being ridiculous. There’s no way she—No. She doesn’t see me like that.

March 21st, 2038

She rested her head on my shoulder today. I don’t know what to think of it. If she was normal and grew up like the rest of us did, I would know exactly what to think. But she’s not normal, and it’s not fair of me to treat her like she is. Maybe this is, like, a culturally acceptable thing back from where she grew up. Maybe rich people just cuddle each other all the time. I wouldn’t fucking know, and unfortunately no one in this godforsaken town can help, because there’s a distinct lack of what Maria calls the “bourgeoisie”. They’re all either dead or back where Y/N grew up, doing whatever rich snobs do.

Even if it is normal for her, I feel like I can’t stop analyzing everything she does. She seems more nervous around me than she does anyone else, but she lingers like she can’t help herself. I’ve noticed that she stumbles over her words and touches me much more than is really necessary. Or at least I think she does—maybe I’m just imagining things.

But even if it means what I think it does, I can’t let myself think like this. It’s not fair to her. No one deserves to live here if they have the choice. At least the people out here know how to handle it. She doesn’t, and I don’t want her to turn into the type of person who does.

When I stitched her up and teased her about being weak and sensitive, I think she thought I was insulting her. I try not to think about it, but if I let myself wallow too much, I’ll wonder what kind of person I’d be if I wasn’t so jaded. Maybe I’d draw more, or read more, or write more. Maybe I’d be an easier person to love. I didn’t get to choose how I turned out. It just happened to me.

So if she has the choice, I’m going to do everything I can to help her make the right one. I don’t want her to be like this.

March 29th, 2038

I had a dream about Riley last night. I haven’t had one of those in years, not since I was traveling with Joel. We were back in the mall, and Riley had just turned the lights on as a surprise. I had this feeling then, like I was being given a second chance. That I could set things straight and do what was right. I woke up before I could insist that we leave.

[A drawing takes up half of the next page. It’s a crude depiction of the mall Riley turned in.]

April 4th, 2038

It’s the middle of the night again. I can’t sleep. I’m so disappointed with myself about what I did tonight with Y/N. At the time, it seemed like a really good idea. She likes me back, apparently. I was right about everything that I wrote about earlier, I guess. But it certainly doesn’t feel like I thought it would.

It’s not like there’s no part of me that isn’t thrilled that she feels the same way. That’s why I gave in and slept with her. But even when she told me how she felt, even before I completely lost my self-control, something heavy was already hanging over me. Regret, maybe. Or guilt. I don’t know. What I do know is that this can’t last. I can’t make this good for her like I want to. She needs to go back, and she needs to be able to feel like she can make that choice without feeling like she’s leaving anything good behind.

I’m not a spiritual person. but even so, I can’t help but feel like that dream of Riley was a sign. This is my second chance. I’m not going to fuck it up this time. I’ve already been an accomplice of so much suffering. Y/N is going home, and I’ll never see her again when she does. That’s that.

It took all I had left in me in the end to kick her out. She looked so hurt, and the fact that she tried to hide it made it even worse. I wish I could tell her why this can’t work, but I don’t think she’d understand.

[A drawing of Y/N kissing Ellie’s palm follows, her hair slightly mussed]

April 6th, 2038

I need to stop making rash decisions like knocking on her door late at night and asking her to come over. I really don’t know what’s gotten into me, because whenever I see her now, I can’t help but freeze up. Like last night, when she kissed me and touched my face and told me she thought I was a good person. I panicked and told her—well, nevermind. I don’t really want to repeat it here. It was mean, but I didn’t know what else I could do to get her to stop.

She was already tearing up by the time she left. I had to sit down and breathe deeply for a few minutes before I was sure I wasn’t going to be sick. I don’t really think I want to write more about this right now. It just makes me sad how unfair this all is. Of course the one time after Cat that I meet someone I really like it just has to be in one of the cruelest scenarios possible. I just have no idea what to do.

[Five pages of drawings follow of Y/N in bed, her head tilted back against the pillow, her eye’s half lidded, and her mouth slightly agape. Ellie redraws this multiple times, x-ing out parts that don’t seem quite right]

April 10th, 2038

I know this is none of my business, but she’s been spending a lot of time with Dina lately. She nearly got herself killed getting a gift for me with Dina yesterday, which feels like some sort of especially cruel joke. The universe isn’t being very fucking subtle right now.

If what I’m worried about is right, at least Dina has the option to come with her up North. She’d test negative.

April 20th, 2038

I would really like it if I could have one short break from the misery that’s my life right now. I turned 20 yesterday, accidentally introduced Y/N to my ex, proceeded to get much drunker than I meant to, completely fell off my rocker and asked Y/N to stay the night, and then discovered this morning that not only has Terranova found Y/N but that my strategy of keeping Y/N at arm’s length completely failed.

She wants me to come with her, and she’s threatening to stay here otherwise. I did the only thing that I could think to do and snapped at her.

I’m so tired of this. I hate having to act like I don’t care. This is the third time now that I’ve had to say something nasty to her to keep her from getting too close. I just want to get in bed and sleep until she leaves and I can pretend like nothing ever happened and that everything is normal.

[One page of drawings of Y/N passed out in her bed and Y/N grinning while holding a lopsided cake]

April 28th, 2038

I know I haven’t been writing much again. Sorry about that. I just can’t bear to think about my life right now. I know I should be relieved—this is what I wanted. I wanted her to go where it’s best for her.

But there’s still that selfish part of me that keeps me up at night. Y/N is going to leave this place never knowing how I feel about her. Logically, that should be what I want. This way I won’t need to say a real goodbye. I know I won’t need to now, since she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore. It’s really fucking immature of me to be so hurt by what she must think of me now, but I can’t stop.

I wonder how long it will take for me to stop feeling sad about this. I’ve never had to process anything like this where there’s nothing I can do. With Riley and Sam, I at least got to heal from the knowledge that I was going to help make the vaccine to save the world. But losing Y/N just because of where we come from is totally meaningless. I can go forward knowing that I made it easy for her to make the right decision, but that only goes so far.

I don’t know how I’m going to handle this. I’m going to practically live with Dina so I don’t need to be alone for the first few weeks.

I wish May 8th would just come already so she can go away and I can get on with my life.

May 1st, 2038

Things have changed some. Joel cornered me in the kitchen last night and told me that I needed to grow up and just appreciate the rest of the time I had left with Y/N. I was going to agree and try to walk past him, but he stopped me and told me that he needed me to escort Y/N. I guess he’s right. She can’t go alone, and Joel and Tommy are getting a little too old for week-long expeditions into the wilderness.

He also told me that I need to apologize to her and make things right, saying shit like I’d regret it forever if things ended between us like this. I don’t want to admit it, but I think he’s right. When I told him that she’d originally threatened to stay if I didn’t go with her, he blinked, hard. Then he told me that he had an idea.

I’m faking it. I’m telling her that I’m going, even though I’m going to leave her when she gets picked up. I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off. When I told her in the meadow last night, she was so happy. I know it’s really sappy and cliche to say this, but I felt my heart shatter, bit by bit. I’m not a very good liar, not to people who are important to me. But I suppose I’ve been lying to her all this time, kicking her out of my room and telling her that I didn’t want anything more with her.

I can do this, I think. I have to do this, or else she might threaten to stay, and I don’t think I have it in me to be cruel again. Not to her. I guess I’ll just trick myself into feeling like I’m actually coming with her, like we have a chance of actually being together. I don’t know. We’ll see.

[One drawing of Y/N laying down in the meadow that takes up half a page]

May 3rd, 2038

It’s easier than I expected. Y/N sleeps over in my room at night, and if I don’t think too hard about it, I can pretend like things will always be like this.

I’m getting to be such a sap, though. I almost broke down in the bathroom today while I was getting ready. It was over the stupidest thing—a toothpaste bottle. Y/N always folds it so neatly, making a perfect, tight spiral of plastic near the end. It used to really bother me when I first had to share with her (because who does that—it’s weird and doesn’t do anything since she doesn’t manage to squeeze out the extra in the bottom anyways), but the thought of throwing it out when it finally emptied and having to find another one that’ll never be folded again hit me and suddenly I was counting my inhales and exhales. I don’t really give a shit about toothpaste. It’s just that it was the moment that I realized that she’s really going to be gone soon, you know? Slowly but surely, the evidence of her stay here will be wiped away and replaced. Someday I’ll forget all the little details about her.

She’s knocking on my door. I need to stop being so depressed and go see her before she picks up that something’s wrong.

[One small doodle of Y/N smiling and rolling her eyes while brushing her teeth]

May 6th, 2038

Dina’s coming now. Y/N told me this morning after she went to say goodbye. I feel really shitty about this. I guess I should tell her that I’m not going now, because this way Y/N needs to go home to get Dina the help she needs, but I just can’t bring myself to. I’ll have to escort both of them to the pickup spot anyway since Dina’s weaker now that she’s pregnant, and the thought of having to spend a full week with Y/N after she knew I lied to her makes my skin crawl. I can’t tell who I’m trying to protect by doing this—me or her. Maybe both.

I’m losing my two favorite people here, and they don’t even know it yet. But this is the best option. This is my chance to finally do some good in the world.

May 7th, 2038

I’m about to go stargazing with Y/N for the last time. I don’t think I’ll be writing in here again until I get back. I don’t want to risk losing this while I’m out in case something crazy happens. Which it probably will, but I canonically happen to be really good at living when shit hits the fan. Also—I don’t imagine Y/N to be a particularly nosy person, but if she ever came across this and thought it was a book or something, it would make things really awkward. So, you’re staying tucked carefully under my bed until I come back later this month.

I don’t know how to handle this sort of goodbye. I don’t really know how to handle any sort of goodbye, I guess, but at least I’ve been through them before. I may not do it well, but I know how to live when people I love die. But this isn’t like that. No one is dying (hopefully), and more importantly, I know it’s a goodbye this time. I see it coming on the horizon and I can’t even tell anyone about it. How does anyone deal with that? How does anyone cope?

Y/N’s knocking on my door now. I need to go before I start thinking even more and do something stupid like start crying or whatever.

I’ll be back in about two weeks.

June 1st, 2038

Sorry for not writing. It’s been pretty shitty, actually. It took me 5 extra days to get home because some scavengers gave me trouble. I hardly slept for most of them. I ran out of ammo about 4 days out and had to use my knife for everything I ran into until I was able to raid the cabinets of this abandoned cabin. Nearly got taken out by a clicker, too. It was not fun. It was especially not fun because I was not feeling super great to begin with, for obvious reasons.

Things haven’t gotten any better since getting back to Jackson. Y/N didn’t take her stupid Exoplanetary Systems textbook and now I’m struggling with whether or not I should throw it out. The rational side of me says to keep it because it was published after the outbreak and probably contains updated information that isn’t anywhere else. The rest of me doesn’t even want to look at the stars anymore because it reminds me of her.

It’s really hard not to blame her for ruining everything. I can’t go out and ride my own horse without thinking about the first time we went on patrol together and she dropped my gun and nearly killed one of us. And I can’t even relax in my own home, because I’ve spent almost every night with her since March in my bed. Sometimes when I hear a creak in the middle of the night I assume it’s her walking down to the bathroom or getting water until it hits me again that she’s never coming back.

I know I’m being melodramatic. There are many other worse problems I could be having right now. But I don’t even have my best friend anymore. I wonder if Dina and Y/N are angry with me for lying. I wonder if they’re settling in okay. I hope that Y/N manages to fix whatever her research was and that Dina gets better.

[Twenty pages of drawings of Y/N and Dina together. Some are snippets of them on their expedition to the pickup site. Others are pictures of Y/N and Dina walking around with smiles on their faces in what looks to be a city]

June 21st, 2038

It’s been over a month since I’ve last seen her. I had a breakdown while getting ready for bed when I realized that I didn’t remember what her voice sounded like anymore.

[Ten pages of half-finished drawings, each with its face scribbled over]

June 28th, 2038

I don’t think I really remember what she looks like—not exactly. I’ve been trying to draw her because I’m still in the habit of making decisions that are definitely not good for my mental state. I just can’t do it, and it isn’t for the lack of trying. Every time I get to her eyes I keep drawing something that looks wrong, but I can never tell why. I compare it to my earlier drawings of her from when we first met and it feels like meeting her for the first time again.

Joel says it’ll pass and that he’s proud of me for doing the right thing. Jessie and I have been hanging out more. Even if he won’t admit it, I can tell he’s miserable without Dina. But he understands why she had to go—just like how I feel about Y/N. And Dina too, of course. Jackson feels like a ghost town without her.

July 17th, 2038

I haven’t been writing or drawing in here for a while, I know. I was going to just go ahead and start a new journal—you know the one that Maria gave me for Christmas with the dark blue cover—but it didn’t feel right to just stop without explaining. Otherwise I’ll feel like an asshole for wasting so much paper.

I don’t want to move on from what happened with Y/N and Dina. I really don’t, but I don't think I have a choice. If I keep going on like this, I’ll never be able to live normally again. I’m just sick and tired of being sad all of the time. So I’m not going to write here anymore. I don’t think it’s realistic for me to forget all about it, because I don’t want to forget her. Not really. But I guess if I want to get better, I’ll need something different. So, here’s that. The beginning of my fresh start. “Fresh start” and you call me overdramatic!! haha. Y/N was here!

(You left this on your nightstand. I promise I didn’t read too much. I opened it because I thought it was your sketchbook. I’m going to put this back since I hear you walking down the hall now.)

ok as an aside my blog is broken so my stuff isn’t notifying people when i tag/showing up on dashes or in tags. please reblog if you’re comfortable so people can actually find this! thank you!

final a/n: i totally get it if this wasn’t quite your cup of tea this time—i just really wanted to iron out ellie’s pov before their reunion in the end. which is happening and not a spoiler because i have always promised a hea! this was a change in pace for the story and i promise you that the next chapter will be more normal/align more with my normal writing style. i have also changed my mind (probably) and have decided to stick with writing an epilogue! so two more chapters are coming before this is totally over. thank you so much for waiting and being so patient! i love you all dearly ok bye bye now

[ticklishshenanigansau]

LaughterLand - Chapter 6: Not Ticklish

(story by Mod Secret, art by Mod Kitty)

Sans could feel Papyrus's body jolt in surprise as he hid behind him. The enormous cat continued to stare at them. His eyes were intense and seemed to stare directly into their souls.

"S-Sans…," Papyrus stammered. "Did that cat just...?"

"Speak?" Sans finished his brother's sentence. "Yeah, it just spoke."

This prompted a low chuckle from the red, grinning cat. "But of course I can talk," he said, slinking closer to the pair. His voice was deep and he carried a posh kind of accent. "Look at the two of you, you look as though you've never come across a talking cat before."

"I mean … one or two maybe...?" Sans replied, the image of a group of Temmies invading his mind. "But … even where we're from it's not that common."

"I see … well how very droll," the cat mused. "And where exactly are the two of you from?"

"The Underground Realm of Monster-Kind!" Papyrus replied enthusiastically. Sans immediately shot him a look, causing him to pull back. Clearly, Papyrus hadn't learned his lesson about trying to make friends in this place.

"Monster-Kind, you say?" The cat sat down in front of them, his intense green eyes looking them up and down. "Well you'll certainly find different kinds of monsters around these parts if you stick around long enough." The cat began licking its front paw nonchalantly.

"We don't plan to," Sans answered, sounding blunt. "I think Papyrus and I have had quite enough of this crazy place. So if you could just point us towards the CORRECT realm of monsters that would be great."

The cat scoffed as it switched its attention towards its other paw. "My dear fellow, I can assure you that I know not of any other realm but this one."

"Oh, well, that's just great." Sans rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Then what kind of monster are you supposed to be?"

"Me?" The cat stopped grooming himself momentarily to look back at the two of them, expression giving one of bemusement.

"Yeah, that's a big grin you got on your face, what are you, some kind of Cheshire Cat?" Sans noted. "I suppose you expect us to believe that we ended up in Wonderland?"

The Cat let out another low chuckle. "Oh, you could say that." He stood back up to stretch himself out. "It's certainly a KIND of Wonderland, if that makes sense."

"Oh wowie…," Papyrus quietly marveled. "Does this mean we can expect tea and croquet somewhere down the line?"

"I'm afraid not, dear skeleton." The Cheshire Cat moved to get a better look at Papyrus, it was difficult with Sans doing his best to stand directly between them.

"Whereas, that Wonderland relied on the power of wonder and curiosity to sustain itself…," he turned to look both skeletons in the eyes, his eternal grin seeming to widen even further, "the primary food source for this land is … laughter."

Something about the way the Cat had revealed that statement made both brothers shiver. Especially from the way he was intensely looking at the two of them.

"Every living creature here…," the Cat continued, "...gets its food source from drawing out the laughter of poor souls who find themselves trapped here."

Suddenly it all made sense. What the Ghost Children had meant by the two of them being their 'food', why the animals and even the plant-life was after them. All this time they were all feeding on their laughter by tickling it out of them, suddenly the Cheshire Cat was beginning to look even more intimidating than he was before.

"S-So…," Papyrus stuttered. "Everyone here … feeds on … laughter?"

"Why, yes," grinned the Cheshire Cat. "And you see, that is precisely what brings me here. I could hear the most delicious-sounding laughter I believe I have ever heard in my entire being."

The brothers instinctively took a step back as the Cheshire Cat started to move in closer, his stance becoming lower as he moved into a creeping position like he was getting ready to pounce.

"It has been so very long since I've had my last meal…." He arched his hips slightly, shoulders hiked up, and paws reaching forward. He was going to jump. "And I am just so … agonizingly … hungry."

Sans gripped onto Papyrus's hand, squeezing it tightly as a silent signal to be ready. The cat opened up its lips, Sans immediately grabbed onto his brother to turn tails and start running.

The cat began to whistle his eerie song again. Sans and Papyrus barely got out three steps before they felt themselves being grabbed from above by the all-too-familiar feather-vines.

"AAH!! NO! NOT AGAIN!!" Papyrus screamed once he felt their familiar tangle wrap around his arms pulling him back.

But this time the vines didn't move in to tickle, only to hold them in place. Nevertheless, the brothers pulled and struggled hard to break free, knowing full well that this could turn worse at any moment. The cat's whistling came to an end as it approached them once again. Once he had concluded his song, the vines slowed to a stop, but still kept the brothers restrained in place.

Sans stopped struggling to notice this. He realized that the vines hadn't just come out of nowhere, it was the Cheshire Cat's whistle that had called and commanded them.

"How.… How did you do that?" Sans couldn't help but stare in awe, in spite of his predicament. He had never heard of this kind of magic before, and his curiosity was peaked alongside his sense of dread.

"Ah yes, you're probably wondering just why all of the wildlife scampered away after hearing my little tune, aren't you?" The Cat moved to face the two of them as they dangled there, tied up by their torsos and wrists over their heads.

"Well let me tell you. It's not any kind of spell or magical incantation. But it's more or less an act of persuasion," the Cat explained, his grin starting to take a more malicious shape. "A formal mode of announcing my arrival. A means of letting them know to back away slowly … because this prey belongs to me."

It dawned on Sans just how powerful this Cat really was. The only reason the animals let them go at all was because they didn't want to get in his way. If he was powerful enough to command the plant-life to hold them down the way they were, Sans was beginning to realize just how careful they had to be. This creature was cunning, he wasn't going to let an outside force come to stop him once he had begun to feed on their laughter. So if there was any hope of getting out of this situation, Sans knew that he couldn't allow him to get started, he had to stall him somehow.

"Well … that's not very generous." Thinking on his toes, Sans thought up a plan. "I mean … don't you think you ought to save some for other starving creatures around here?"

The Cat blinked. Its grin never faltered, but his expression changed to one of slight confusion. "And just what do you mean by that?" he inquired. Even Papyrus had stopped struggling to hear where Sans was going with this.

"I mean, I can't even remember the last time me and Pap had a decent meal around here," Sans replied, trying to sound convincing. "That's why we're out here too! We came looking for the sound of that wild laughter, was hoping maybe you could help us out?"

Even Sans had to admit that this was going to be a stretch to pull off. But he figured if they could stall long enough to figure out how to get away, it would be worth playing along. The Cat eyed them, knowingly.

"Oh, really?" he mused. "And here I thought you had said you had come from the Underground Realm of Monsters."

Sans swallowed, but thankfully his quick thinking came up with a good answer. "What? Do you think your realm is the only one that chows down on a chuckle or two?" The Cat's intense eyes were still burning into him, Sans continued to try and roll with his lies. "The Underground's … laugh supply … was in pretty bad shape. So we went looking for food elsewhere … then somehow we ended up here!"

If Papyrus could face-palm right now, he would. Instead, he just stared blankly at his brother, jaw nearly on the floor. Still, Sans went on. "We had heard that hysterical laughter you were talking about and thought maybe those crazy monkeys might have something to do with it … but then you scared them away and … here we are."

The Cheshire Cat sat down, humoring Sans by hearing him out. But still, even he couldn't help but chuckle at this ridiculous idea. "Very, very interesting," the Cat sneered. "But I think we both know that you're lying through that … rather remarkable smile of yours."

"Wait, hang on a minute!" Sans tried to pull his arms loose with his hands open in surrender, but was again reminded of his predicament. "If you let us go, maybe we can help you find where it came from!"

He tensed up as the cat approached his feet with a big fluffy paw stretched wide open. "Oh, but I think I've already found it," the Cat raised its paw, splaying out Sans's toes. "Now it's time to enjoy a good meal."

"Wait! You're wasting your time anyways!" Sans spoke without thinking. "Paps and I aren't even ticklish!" Sans could feel Papyrus's body jolt in surprise right next to him. What is Asgore's name had he just gotten them into?

The cat looked up, his eyes widened with delight. "Not ticklish, you say?" his grin suddenly looked even more sinister to the brothers. "Well, that would certainly prove that you were beings such as myself, for monsters of LaughterLand cannot feed on their own laughter." He turned away from the trapped skeletons, gears starting to turn as he was thinking.

"Sans, what are you doing?!" Papyrus harshly whispered, once the Cat seemed to be out of earshot.

"I had to think of something!" Sans quietly shot back. "Now just keep it together. Maybe if we can convince him that we are who I say we are, he'll let us go and we can find a way out of here."

"Are you sure?" Papyrus asked nervously. "That didn't work the last time, what about your … y'know…." He tried leaning in as close as he could to try to whisper even quieter. "...your secret sweet spot?"

Papyrus had a point, it was hard enough holding it in when the animals were going for their usual spots. But Sans had not forgotten how one swipe against the grooves of his back had given them away. Somehow, Sans just had to keep the Cat away from that spot, find a way to draw him away from that area.

"Don't worry," Sans whispered. "I think I have an idea, just follow my lead."

"I … I don't know, Sans," Papyrus replied as he stared at the enormous cat. Everything about him made him the ideal tickling monster. From his overtly fluffy tail and paws, to his perfectly tufted ears and extra long whiskers. Even if he had managed to avoid the major tickle spots on Sans, Papyrus wasn't sure that he would be able to handle what the cat had to throw at him.

"Pap, listen to me," Sans tried to look his brother in the eye. "We had to deal with a whole group of animals back there, he's just one cat. We can do this."

The Cat finally turned back to them. "If you're not as ticklish as I perceive you both to be … well then how about a little wager?" He narrowed his eyes knowingly. "If you can prove to me that what you're saying is true, then I shall gladly release you. Then perhaps we can pursue the source of our nourishment together. However…."

He approached them again, his green eyes seeming to peer straight into the depths of their souls. "Should you both prove to be as ticklish as I KNOW the two of you to be … you will remain here as my main source of food … for all of time."

Sans and Papyrus gave each other worried glances. Although they tried to keep up the facade of not being nervous, they could both see it in each other just how terrified they were. They both knew that if either of them failed, there would be no escape. But if they refused to accept this challenge then there would still be no escape. As much as a lose-lose situation this was, both of them understood that at least if they accepted, there was a small glimmer of hope. Acknowledging this, they gave each other a small, hesitant nod of approval.

"It's a deal," Sans said coolly.

"Wonderful," replied the Cheshire Cat as he once again approached Sans's feet. "Shall we begin with you then?"

He used one paw to splay out Sans's toes and the other paw to gingerly glide down his left sole. Sans immediately sucked on his teeth trying to hold in his breath. His ribs already felt the familiar ache from trying to hold it in earlier, but he ignored it and tried to stay focused. 

With the animals, there was only an idea that they would let him and Papyrus go if they stayed quiet. With the cat, that promise was absolute. He just had to stay concentrated on that. But even he had to admit, staying concentrated on anything was proving to be difficult with the Cat's extra fluffy paws slowly dragging down his foot.

"I do so love starting from the bottom up," the Cat remarked as he started fluffing up towards the balls of Sans's feet. "Of course, when you're as close to the ground as I am, you can only go up from here."

Sans trembled slightly as he felt the ticklish contact on that part of his foot. It tickled, but he came to realize that harsher tickling seemed to be more effective on the balls of his feet rather than the light knismesis the Cat was presenting. He took small comfort in it being easier to hold in, despite his light trembling. However, it was quickly shattered once the cat had moved up to tickle his toes.

Light tickling was certainly more effective there. Sans gritted his teeth, eyes growing wide with panic and he froze in terror. He felt his fingers start to twitch and clench tightly as a means to distract himself. The Cat seemed to notice immediately as he let out a low chuckle.

"Ah, a bit sensitive around here are we?" He used both of his fluffy paws on Sans's poor toes. One tickling beneath and in between, while the other traced various shapes over the tops.

"N-Nope!" Sans stuttered quickly through gritted teeth. "J-Just.… Just don't … like being … t-touched there." It was so hard to speak, he could feel the laughter threatening to burst out of him with every syllable. "It…. I-It feels … c-creepy...!"

"Hmm … well I think it's a bit more than that." The Cat grinned as it dug a little further into his toes. Sans swallowed hard, he clenched his fists so tightly they started to hurt. He tried to overpower the ticklish sensations with the pain in his hands. It didn't do much to distract him, but it was enough to help him hold on until the cat stopped.

Sans breathed out slowly, careful not to make a big deal about catching his breath as the cat moved on to Papyrus. "Well, how about you?" The Cat walked behind Papyrus's legs and started brushing the back of his knees with his tail. "You wouldn't be sensitive around here would you?"

Papyrus quickly gasped, but composed himself enough to stop. This didn't go unnoticed as the Cat turned to face him. "What was that?" the Cat teased. "Are you ticklish here?"

"Oh-Oh, no! Not at all!" Papyrus stammered. "Y-You just startled me, that's all. Wasn't expecting … that."

"Hmm, we'll see." The Cat turned to brush the front of Papyrus's knees before moving towards the back again, noticing that Papyrus became more and more tense from the back.

With the Cat paying more attention to the back of Papyrus's knees, Papyrus was able to show more expression in his face when the feline turned away from him. He clenched his teeth as they were locked into a helpless grin, and he shut his eyes tightly. Just as he feared, the Cat's fluffy tail was horrendously ticklish, and Papyrus felt like he could detect every little wispy hair as it traveled back and forth across the pits of his knees. 

Papyrus opened his eyes enough to give Sans a helpless glance. Sans returned his brother's worried expression, remembering just how close Papyrus had come to breaking with the animals. Still, Sans tried to convey some amount of encouragement through his eyes, though it was unclear if it was received.

Papyrus let out a puff of air as the Cat returned to face him, momentarily halting the attack on his legs. He grinned up at Papyrus, head cocked slightly off to the side, as if trying to appear cute.

"Are you quite certain your legs aren't ticklish, dear fellow?" he mused. "You seemed to be quite tense back there."

"W-Well … you know…," Papyrus stammered. "I-I don't know of anyone who enjoys having the back of their legs brushed by a cat tail." Even Sans had to admit, that was a fair point. It was well-played.

"Indeed…," the Cat replied as he hoisted his front legs up to lean on the front of Papyrus's right leg. Lifting one paw up, a single claw protruded outwards as the Cat began eyeballing Papyrus's knee. "I'm truly sorry about this, then." A sharp shiver ran up Papyrus's leg as the Cat began tracing small circles around his knee with his claw.

Papyrus tensed up as hard as he could, trying not to make it look too obvious. But the horrible tingling of his knee was quickly becoming too much to simply ignore. He forced himself to stay so still that he could feel his eye and the lining of his jaw start to twitch. 

He tried Sans's method of clenching his fists together, but could still feel his breath come out in small bursts. He wanted so badly to kick his leg, or to at least pull on the vine restraining him, but he dared not move a metaphoric muscle.

"Are you quite certain that you're not ticklish 'round the knees?" the Cat teased. His suggestion, and mention of the dreaded 't' word nearly forcing a large huff of breath from Papyrus's throat. Papyrus didn't dare open his mouth to speak, so instead shook his head back and forth rapidly. Though he forced his mouth shut, his inside voice was begging and screaming for the Cat to move on.

At last after what seemed like forever, the Cat hopped back down on the ground releasing Papyrus's knee. "I have to say," the Cat said after checking the sharpness of his claw. "I'm impressed with your ability to hold back … truly I am." He moved back over to Sans. Sans's soul accelerated so quickly, he was afraid the Cat could hear it. "But … I'm afraid you're just prolonging the inevitable. I'll get you to crack … I always do."

"There's nothing to crack," Sans said adamantly, though Papyrus could still see the anxiety in his brother's expression.

The Cat began to whistle again. Sans and Papyrus jolted in fear as they felt the vines begin to shake. But the Cat wasn't commanding them to move, instead a separate vine descended from the trees. It carried a gigantic leaf amongst its feathers, almost as big as the Cheshire Cat. As he wrapped up his whistling, the Cat proceeded to step onto the leaf like a giant abnormal step ladder. The leaf raised itself very slightly with the Cat sitting on top of it.

Soon Sans found just where the Cat was going to target next … his hips. He curled his fingers in anticipation as the Cat reached out its paws and started mindlessly batting and tickling along his hip bones.

Sans shut his eyes tightly, fighting back the urge to throw his head back. He could feel his body starting to curl in on itself. He breathed out steadily, painfully forcing himself to stay still. It was so hard to ignore the soft bristling fur teasing along somewhere so sensitive. But at the very least, Sans was grateful that he was the one receiving the hip treatment rather than his brother. He was well aware of Papyrus's extra sensitive sweet spot where his hips met his spine, and he knew that if the Cat figured it out they would be goners.

Still, his ribs ached badly from the large swallows of air. It was painful, but no amount of discomfort could completely distract Sans from the agony of being tickled like this. 

"Why don't you breathe?" the Cat cooed. "Surely you must want to let it out by now … don't you?" Sans knew that he was just toying with him, he wasn't about to let it distract him. The Cat let up and stepped his front paws back onto the oversized leaf. Sans opened his eyes and let out a shallow and steady breath. But the feeling of dread once again picked up once Sans peered over at the Cat to see it holding up its claw.

"Your brother over there seemed to have quite a bit of fun with this." He grinned sinisterly. "Let's see how you enjoy it, hmm?"

He hopped back onto Sans's spine and began swirling his claw around Sans's hips. Making little circles and drawing back and forth across the bones.

The tingling sharpness was absolutely horrible, Sans could feel his ribs physically start to shake and he held his breath. He tried everything he could think of to distract from it. Grabbing onto the vine, curling and twisting his toes, looking around in every direction besides where the tickling was happening. Nothing would alleviate the horrible sensations on his hips. He couldn't even fully grasp how something too sharp could tickle him this much. Every twist and turn that the dreaded claw took served as a new kind of laughter for Sans to painfully hold back.

Until at last it was over, Sans's skull felt so heavy with stress that he couldn't stop it from dropping. He realized his face had grown hot and that meant he was probably blushing hard. Still he tried his best to shake it off.

"S-See...?" he breathed out. "I'm .. not … t-ticklish...." When Sans lifted his head he jolted in surprise, his soul nearly jumped into his throat. The Cheshire Cat was right there in his face, apparently he had moved the leaf to elevate himself closer to Sans without him noticing. His grin was still unwavering, Sans realized that he hadn't seen it drop, not once, and it was haunting.

"I do wish that you would give up this charade and give me what I want." 

The Cheshire Cat hopped off of the leaf back onto the ground. As he made his way back over to Papyrus, the vine with the leaf followed him like some kind of servant. Sans tensed, fearing for Papyrus and the possible discovery of his brother's sweet spot. The Cat hopped back onto the leaf as it lifted him off the ground once again. Sans held his breath as he stopped directly in front of Papyrus's midsection.

"Normally, I'm used to getting what I want out of a squishy belly," the Cat said after examining Papyrus. "But I suppose this bony spine will have to do, won't it?" Before waiting for Papyrus's response, the Cat turned and began brushing his tail against the front of his spine like a giant feather duster.

Sans breathed a quiet, yet anxious sigh of relief. He was grateful that the Cat had not intended on playing with his brother's hips in the same way he had done to him. But at the same time he knew that brushing along his spine was still dangerously close to that forbidden spot.

Papyrus's neck lurched forward, eyes bulging out of his head. Sans could see his hips starting to squirm as he fought the urge to twist them. His legs shook with tension and Sans could see him clamping down hard on his jaw trying to keep it all in. It may not have been his worst spot that the cat was going after, but it was still a bad spot nonetheless.

The cat began to switch up its brushing style. First by going back and forth, then by bristling up against one side then the other. By the time his tail was switching between quick flicks and slow agonizing strokes, Papyrus had tears in the corners of his sockets. He shut them tightly to keep them hidden away.

Despite his ever-growing anxiety, Sans marveled at how quiet Papyrus was forcing himself to be. Even with a spot as bad as his spine, his brother hadn't let out a single squeak or groan, no matter how badly he clearly wanted to. But even then he knew it was only a matter of time before the Cat would hit a spot that would break them, he had to really think hard about his next move.

"You might as well give in now." The Cat looked back at the brothers. "Nobody in LaughterLand can hold it all in … not forever." As Sans stared back at the Cat, he could sense just the tiniest fragment of tiredness in his expression. It was clear that the Cat was beginning to grow weary of this game he was playing with the two of them, and was getting frustrated for not being able to get what he wanted from them.

At last, he stopped brushing Papyrus's spine. Papyrus couldn't help it, he let out an exhausted breath of relief, the Cat turned to face him upon hearing this.

"Getting tired are we?" The Cat continued to grin wickedly. "Good. You'll be that much easier to break."

The Cat returned to Sans, and again the leaf followed and this time perched him up a little higher. Sans figured the next spot to go would be the ribcage. It was awful, but he knew that if he could just focus on trying to breathe through it, he would make it.

"Like I said," Sans replied lowly, "there's nothing to break. You're just wasting your time with us while the real source of food is getting away."

"Perhaps," the Cat purred. To Sans's surprise, the leaf had moved him to the back of the ribs rather than the front. Then it hit him, his soul started pulsating so fast he thought it would burst. It wasn't the ribs that the Cat was targeting next.

"I do wonder if the upper backbone would be more effective than the front of the spine,"

Sans gulped hard, it was time to put his impromptu plan into action. This unfortunately meant putting Papyrus back into the line of fire. Sans hated it, but he figured as long as it kept the Cat distracted from exploiting both of their sweet spots it would be worth it. He took in a breath, he had to choose his words carefully.

"Hey, Cheshire," Sans whispered as he felt his shirt being lifted up. "Just between you and me, I think my bro's been keeping a secret." The Cheshire Cat stopped and looked up at him with an intrigued stare.

"Go on…," the Cheshire Cat mused.

"I think his real sweet spot is the back of his skull." 

Sans wasn't actually sure if Papyrus was ticklish there or not. In fact, he wasn't sure if there even was a spot on him that wasn't ticklish. But it was his best guess on where Papyrus might be the least sensitive. At least that way his brother could sustain a break while drawing the Cat away from the grooves of his back.

"Really?" The Cat's curiosity was peaked. So he immediately jumped off of the leaf to return to Papyrus.

Papyrus was so busy catching his breath that he hadn't even noticed the interaction between the two of them, so he was rightfully confused upon seeing the Cat come back to him after not giving Sans another turn.

"Wh-What…. What are you doing?" Papyrus panted.

The Cat didn't answer but instead eagerly hopped back onto the leaf, which took him up to meet the back of his skull. The Cat turned his body to give Papyrus's head a quick brush. Papyrus jerked in surprise, but there was no laughter. Confused, the Cat brushed back and forth again and again. Sans looked on, hopeful that he had been right about his brother's so-called tickle spot.

Papyrus couldn't help but twitch with every stroke of the tail. It was ticklish, but not enough to make him want to burst out laughing like with his feet or spine. If anything, he was fighting back the urge to twist his head and neck around to relieve the irritation. 

But more than anything, Papyrus was still confused, and still exhausted from having to put up with the torture on his spine earlier. Why would the Cat skip over Sans completely? Why go to the very top, when he had been on a streak of working his way up their bodies?

Having had enough, the Cat stopped brushing and turned back to the younger skeleton. "Hmm … well that's interesting," he said as he laid his body down on the leaf. His green eyes looking Papyrus up and down suspiciously.

"What? What's going on?" Papyrus asked nervously.

"Your brother had mentioned something about your skull being the worst of your spots," the Cat replied, nonchalantly licking his paw.

"He did WHAT?!"

Papyrus looked over at Sans in anger. He had not seen the earlier interaction where the Cat had been so dangerously close to his brother's secret sweet spot. So to Papyrus it looked like Sans was trying to get out of his turn by pinning a different spot on him, that cheater! Sans stared wide-eyed at his brother's glare, honestly unaware if he was seriously upset or if this was still part of the act.

"Well, I can assure you that my skull is not ticklish!" Papyrus turned to the Cat, a mischievous smile forming on his face. "Unlike my brother's ribs that is!"

Sans jaw dropped. "Papyrus! What the heck, dude?!" Unlike Sans’s ploy, Papyrus absolutely KNEW that Sans's ribs were horrendously sensitive. He couldn't believe that Papyrus would betray him like that. Papyrus glared back at him.

"What? You sent him over here to me!" Papyrus accused. Sans groaned loudly, trying as quietly as he could to explain the plan. 

"Pap! Don't you get it?! I was trying to lure him away from my—AGGH!"

Sans let out a startled cry as he suddenly felt the cat's fluffy paws start digging into his ribs. As the brothers argued, the Cat had snuck up behind him with the leaf to get at his ribs.

"Ooh, that's the most reaction I've gotten out of either one of you boys," the Cat teased. He turned to wriggle his tail under Sans's shirt to brush the underside of the ribcage, making Sans squirm. "Got any more tips by chance?"

"Mnh...! Hnnh!! Y-Yeah...!" Sans struggled to speak as he felt his ribs being tickled from every side. At this point he couldn't help but jerk around, he lost the chance to gain his composure before being tickled again.

"Y.… Y-You missed out … on—Hrnk! P-Pahap's t-toes...!" Sans was upset with Papyrus, and with his judgment being clouded by anger and the ticklish sensations, he spat out a really bad spot on his brother.

He panted hard once the cat pulled out his tail and the rib-tickling had ceased. The Cat slinked its way back over to Papyrus and pawed at his toes in the same way he had done to Sans in the beginning.

Losing himself as well, Papyrus threw his head back, tugging at the vines that held up his arms.

"W-Well...!" he choked out through holding back laughter. "My-My brohother's u-underarms—AGH! Are-Are t-ten times as … t-ticklish!"

Before they knew it, both Sans and Papyrus were locked in a battle of confessions. As soon as the Cat started tickling one of them, they would confess a true tickle spot for the other.

"P-Papyrus … has a t-ticklish neheck!!"

"Sans h-hates it … behihind the … knees!!"

"Y-You thought m-my ribs were … bad yohou sh-should see his!!"

"Sans has t-ticklish … cheekbohones!!"

"P-Papyrus is t-ticklish thehere too!!"

Finally Papyrus had had enough, before the Cat even had a chance to come back his way, he screamed at the top of his lungs.

"SANS'S WORST SPOT ARE THE GROOVES THAT RUN ALONG HIS BACKBONE!"

There was a moment of silence, Papyrus's voice seemed to echo through the forest. Sans's eye sockets widened to nearly the size of dinner plates. Papyrus looked at the unimaginable fear in his brother's face and realized just how bad of a mistake he had made. He gasped sharply.

"Oh … oh no! What have I done?" he muttered to himself.

The Cat gleefully returned to his leaf, and rose back up to Sans's upper backbone, chuckling lowly.

"So that's what started this little rift between the two of you," the Cat cooed as he lifted Sans's shirt once again. This time Sans couldn't help but whimper, this was it. His worst spot was going to give them away again! The worst part being that there was absolutely nothing he could do to protect it.

"I would say I'd make this quick, but well…." The Cat readied his tail, Sans shut his eyes and prepared for the worst. "...I'm just so hungry that I don't think I'll be able to control myself."

"WAIT!" Papyrus called out. The Cat froze, and Sans opened his eyes to look at his brother.

"There's a…." Papyrus gulped loudly. "An even worse spot than that."

"Oh?" the Cat let Sans's shirt slip back down as he turned to look at Papyrus. "And where might that be?"

"On me," Papyrus replied bravely.

"Pap...?" Sans began, fearing for what he was about to say next.

"My hips," Papyrus confessed, hanging his head. "The area where the spine meets the hips, that's my worst spot. So please, leave Sans alone."

"NO! PAPYRUS DON'T!" 

Sans's body tried to leap forward, as if he had forgotten all about being restrained.

The Cat let out a haughty laugh through his teeth as he leapt down to go after Papyrus. "I knew it," he sneered. "You familial types are all the same, you do whatever you can to help each other. But in reality … you've just doomed the both of you."

As the Cat leapt back onto the leaf, Papyrus looked at Sans with an expression that tried to convey comfort.

"It-It's okay, Sans," Papyrus stammered, trying to be brave. "It's fine … this is my fault so…." He winced as he felt the Cat's front paws land onto his hips, and start inching their way towards his spot.

"L-Let me be the one who gives us away … this time...!"

The Cat reached Papyrus's sweet spot, and the entire forest echoed with the sound of his screaming laughter.

***

As Gaster had turned his back to read off his lab worksheets, he looked back to see something peculiar. A special enemy Temmie was curled up between Sans and Papyrus' still-unconscious bodies. It was purring lightly as it was attempting to take a nap between the two of them.

"Hey! How did you get down here?!" Gaster bellowed, waking the little monster from its rest.

"Shoo! Shoo! Get out of here!" Gaster rolled up his worksheets and attempted to swat at it.

The Temmie leapt from the metal tables and scampered off towards the lab entrance with a shrill little, 

"Hooooooiiiiiiii!!"

Gaster sighed deeply. "Must have left the door open," he muttered. "Just fantastic, I'll never be able to get this Temmie fur out of anything."

If anything, Gaster was at least grateful that neither of his sons bore allergies to cat-like monsters.

[bellewintersroe]

Max Verstappen X HornerDaughter!

Part 9 here’s the LINK to part 8. eeeeee I love drama, who’s ready for more?! Warnings: mentions of cursing, jealousy, cursing, arguments, Leni has a hard time admitting her feelings.

Max finds Carlos and Leni closer than ever, getting along like a house on fire. After a gruelling race in the Qatar heat and his win of the 2023 Grand Prix, he’s obviously hurt and confused when Leni barely congratulates him. When a few drinks are involved and there’s no escaping Max directly, he confronts her much to her dismay.

Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24@larastark3107 @maxxiemoo @crashingwavesofeuphoria @18754389

“God it’s hot.” I fanned myself, complaining yet again to Carlos who sat besides me on the small couch, directly under the fans cold breeze.

“You are telling me.” The Spaniard shuffled in the chair. My gaze roamed up to the TV again, watching the race which was currently occurring just outside of this room. Carlos’s car faced technical difficulties which meant he couldn’t race today, not in this weather. I could see the effect it was having already on some of the drivers and I immediately began worrying about Max. The worry that consumed me was mixed with the sensation of my stomach that twisted and knotted every. Single. Time. I thought about Max. The past few weeks I’d avoided him completely, I didn’t attend Japan and now I was in Qatar I’d stayed out of his way completely.

We watched the whole race, occasionally jumping up and running outside. The sweat would cover my skin every time I went outside, so I figured it would be best just to stay inside. Already, Logan had retired from the race, there were incidents occurring left, right and centre. When the race did draw to a finish, I was on the edge of my seat, returning back to the Red Bull paddock perfectly in time for when Max crossed the finish line and became the Champion of the 2023 Grand Prix. My heart was in my throat, I cheered and celebrated for the driver like nothing had happened, I truly was happy for him, it was his third championship. I ensured I’d linger away from where Max was hugging everybody, I could be happy for him from a distance. It might’ve been the wrong move, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak to him, not after we’d not talked since that night on the yacht. It wasn’t until I was heading out of the paddock did I come face to face with him. Nobody else, just Max. My heart tightened and I audibly gasped. He stared back to me, eyebrows slightly raised. He looked just as shocked as I did.

“Max!” I blinked, his lips pulled into a half smile, “ah- well done today, you deserved that win more than anybody.” I nodded surely. Max scanned over my face as though he was waiting for something else. “Thank you, Leni.” He sighed after a moment, sipping his water again. I forced a smile, before heading back past him, on my way. I heard him sigh once more as my face heated to a deep shade of red. I was mentally cursing to and at myself because of the longing I felt myself growing for him once again. That was seriously the most awkward thing I’d ever experienced. I was a horrible, stupid girl.

That even I tried not to go out. I’d decided it wouldn’t have been right if I was there, celebrating for Max when we hadn’t even spoke. Of course nobody knew of this but me and him, but somehow that made it all too worse. I’d talked to a few of my friends who thought I was literally crazy for just blanking him. Looking back in hindsight, they were right. Soon enough, I had both my dad and then Carlos begging me to come out. Carlos stated he was in a partying mood, which ‘wasn’t often these days’ so I’d have to come out. It turns out he had already been drinking in the hotel with Lando, which made perfect sense when they physically refused to move off my bed, feeding me alcohol until I got ready.

It’s fair to say I was absolutely steaming before I even got to the club. My inhibitions were lowered at a worrying rate, and I didn’t give two shits stumbling past paparazzi alongside two drivers, not from my fathers team. Besides, they didn’t give two shits about me anyway.

“Leni Horner, where is Max?!” One of them questioned. I snickered to myself, where was Max? Inside I presumed. Of course I wouldn’t know because I hadn’t spoken to him properly in weeks…

I’d like to have said the night was amazing, but I couldn’t remember the majority of it. That’s not me being dramatic or forgetful either, I was black out drunk, throwing up all the contents of alcohol before heading back to drink more. It wasn’t a good look on me. With some chewing gum and perfume, and a lovely girl who helped me in the girls bathrooms, I managed to freshen up, stumbling back out to where Carlos pulled me to get some air. He was flailing around, stumbling over his own two feet. I was laughing so hard that I collapsed onto my knees. The security didn’t like that so much and ushered us into a quieter part behind the outside area. In hindsight, considering the country we were in, we should’ve been a lot more careful. Thank god the security had kept an eye out on us because we were being dumb. Being so blindsided in amusement from Carlos, I completely failed to notice who else was sat in the outdoor area, watching our behaviour unfold.

“We have to act sober. Okay, one, two, three. Be sober.” I prepped up the Spaniard, hooking my arm around his. As if it was magic (or because it was Carlos Sainz) we were allowed back into the outdoor area. I pushed him onto a bench and sat besides him, giggling like a school girl whom had just been told off.

“Carlos- Carlos you’re too fucking funny!” I slurred out.

“Estoy tan jodidamente borracha, Leni. Oh no, esto no es bueno.” Whatever he was spewing in his native tongue, I felt my smile drop noticing who’d made their way over. Carlos fell backwards, into the wooden wall behind, sinking down. I didn’t have it in me to laugh, not when Max was the one who’d hurried over.

“Jesus Christ, man. What happened to you?” He began tugging on his friends arm. The nerves got the better of me, I began giggling uncontrollably. “Leni, help me sit him up.” Max spoke as I became borderline hysterical, trying to yank the man up off the floor. I don’t think I was much help, not when I slipped on the wooden floor myself and fumbled down with a harsh cry of laughter.

“Jesus.” Max muttered, not seeming too amused, especially when Carlos’s hand curled around my own, I shot him a glance to which he was staring directly at the contact. As soon as Carlos sat up, Max retrieved him a glass of water.

“You ok?” I asked the Spanish man. “Yeah.” He responded in the most monotone voice ever. “Leni, why did you stop racing?”

“Me? I just turned into a teenager.” Surprised by his question, I was honest in my response. “I should’ve kept doing it.”

“Yeah.” Carlos nodded as Max slid down across from us both, handing over two glasses of water, one for me, one for Carlos. Carlos gulped his down, whereas I sipped at mine awkwardly, thanking him without a glance in his direction.

“Max- did you know Leni used to race?” Carlos slurred out, water splashing from his glass, onto my bare leg. “Sorry.” He then proceeded to use his sleeve, wiping at my bare leg. “Carlos it’s fine.” I laughed, overly aware of how all this was looking, especially in front of Max.

“No, mate. I didn’t know that.” Max bluntly responded to which my gaze landed quickly on him. “I-I thought you knew.” I stammered, making direct eye contact with him. God, he looked angry, pissed off, I hated it- the worst thing was I made him feel this way.

“I must have forgot.” He then shrugged, reaching out and drinking from his glass of alcohol. My heart sunk and I completely turned away, tears pricking at my eyes pathetically. I had no reason to cry, absolutely none, but seeing him there hurt how badly I wanted him. I just couldn’t have him. How could he truly want me? Like it made no sense to me.

“I’m gonna go.” I stated, standing up on a whim. “I’ll come.” Carlos grumbled. “Oh, you’re going with him now are you?” Max scoffed in my direction, luckily, Carlos didn’t hear or catch on, but I could only stare back to Max with a horrified expression.

My mouth opened to respond something, but an overly excited Oscar came bounding over, giving us all big squeezes. “Hey guys!!” He greeted. Carlos seemed like the only person willing to match his temperament, I felt terrible, but when he took the Spaniard by the arm inside to dance some more, I decided that was the cue for my exit.

“Leni.” I heard Max sigh as I scurried away towards where drivers were already waiting for us. “You can’t go back alone.” Max huffed, pacing after me. I gripped my bag harshly, striding around the pathway around the back of the club to reach the exit.

“I wanna go, I don’t care.” I firmly spoke. “Look, I think we really need to have a talk.” He winced. My brows knotted as I stuck my tongue to the inner corner of my tongue. “I’m not- I can’t-” I began stumbling over my response. Max let out a sad scoff of laughter.

“Typical, running away from me again.”

My cheeks heated at his words, feeling an awkward sense of sickness bubble inside of me. I hated confrontation, especially with men, specifically those I liked. “Max I-”

“No, I get it. You regret what happened.” He outright spoke, I could barely look up at him, bothered by how truly wrong those words were. I never once regretted it in the sense of what happened, it was just weird for me.

“What?” I dumbly spoke, looking down to his shoes. “You know, you could’ve just told me. Rather than acting like I do not exist.” The Dutchman spoke, my teeth burrowed harsher into my bottom lip. “Why didn’t you just tell me, Leni?” He borderline pleaded, stepping a little closer. This time, I turned up to him again. He looked so hurt, so confused, I couldn’t believe I’d made him feel this way. I was selfish, so so selfish.

“Because…” I inhaled harshly. “Because?”

“You- you don’t get it Max.”

“No, I do. You don’t like me the same why I do to you!” He exclaimed, my heart tightened in a painful manner and I felt myself beginning to tear up.

“How can you? It’s so soon.” I gulped harshly, my gaze becoming blurry as I stared behind him, to whatever was happening in the distance.

“So soon for what?”

“You broke up with Kelly, what, a month ago?”

“Why does that matter?” His voice cracked, he seemed on the verge of more anger and when he pushed it once more, tears began falling from my eyes. “Leni that doesn’t dictate who-who I can like and when?!”

“Yes it does! I don’t want somebody who’s fresh out of a break up, thinking that they like me when they’re still hung up on their ex!”

“You knew how I felt about everything to do with that last relationship!” He harshly spoke. I shook my head, wiping my eyes.

“Like Jesus Christ, how much more clear could I have been?”

“You were clear enough when you told me all this whilst you were still together.” I blurted out, my emotions getting the better of me. Max stood back, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What the fuck can I do, Leni?”

“For what?” “To make you feel normal about me again, to-to stop all these stupid games.”

“I do feel normal about you.” My bottom lip blubbered.

“You don’t have to lie. You were willing to go back with Carlos.” Oh, wow.

“Why the fuck would I leave with Carlos?!” Judging by his expression he knew he’d fucked up. “I’m sorry for ignoring you, I really am I know it was childish, Max, but it doesn’t mean that I want anybody else!” I admitted, feeling like a weight had been lifted off my chest, literally.

“Wha- so then why not speak to me?” He stammered.

“Can we just go now?” I attempted to turn around but he hooked a hand around my arm gently. “Please tell me.” He gently spoke. My tearful gaze met his, stomach knotting at the eye contact. I had two choices, be honest with him, or lie yet again.

“I just- I’m scared Max, of how soon it all is after your break up. Everything just happened so quickly.”

“You don’t have to be scared. I like you, Leni. Like, a lot more than you know.” My acrylic nail was now between my teeth, his confession was so beautiful, I just had this bothersome fear inside of me. “It’s too soon, Max.” I whispered, my guard slowly building itself back up.

“It’s not.”

“It is for me.” I felt his hand slip off my arm gently. The two of us didn’t speak for a few seconds, Max sighed, leaning forwards and beginning to use his thumb to wipe my tears away. “That’s ok.” Max lightly spoke. “I’m sorry, Max.” I whispered.

“It’s ok.” He hushed again, the proximity between us was so close, it was comfortable, but I was still slightly shell shocked from the whole confrontation between us.

“I don’t regret what happened on the yacht.” I then added on, calming down from my tearful state. Max’s larger hand remained on my cheek, just gazing down to me, creating the most intimate thing I’d ever experienced.

“Like�� I want you so badly, Max.” I admitted, watching him gulp at my words. He looked so beautiful, he was so gentle with me, and his expression of his feelings towards me made me feel insane. “I want you.” He whispered back, my hand smoothing onto his chest.

“I just- we can’t- it’s so soon.” My head then dropped once more. Max shuffled forwards, arms wrapping around me as he embraced me in a gentle hug. “I will wait for you, Leni.” He spoke the most romantic words I’d ever heard. “If you want time then we can just go on as normal.” He hushed. I nodded, sinking deeper into his hold, hands flattening over his back. I was positive this would create the most gruelling tension between us both, but truth be told I was too wasted to even consider that.

“Just please, no more ignoring me…”

[the-fluff-piece]

Hi, I know you just filled in a request of mine, but I couldn't stop thinking abt this one scene from a book. Basically, it's where fem!reader sits on Ace's, Law, and Monsert Trio's lap while theh feed the fem!reader strawberries dipped in chocolate with whipped cream on top. (Pls. include ace, i'm a major simp for him)

The scene requested is meant like a mindfulness-exercise, so it's a lot about the sensory experience. So this will be 5 Scenes where I try not to be too repetitive about the strawberry and try to bring out what makes each of them unique and lovable. We are directly entering the scene, so don't ask me where the food comes from xD

Also look ar my stories and headcanon master lists

Since it took me AGES here's the first two scenes with extra Ace and I'll post monster three when finished

Here is

An exercise in mindfulness

Part 2 coming soon!

You're having a panic attack, a breakdown, you're hyperventilating and don't know what to do anymore. Good thing your one piece suitor knows how to deal with it

Law

As a doctor, he immediately saw what was going on. The cold sweat on your forehead, the quick breathing, the fear in your eyes. It pained him to see you like that, so his first instinct was to draw you close.

"I'm here baby" He breathed into your hair as his arms wrapped tightly around you. Being held felt good.

He gently lifted your shaking body to sit you down on his lap as he settled on his bed.

"I got you. Concentrate on breathing. That's it, slowly" He guided you to calm down a bit.

He sat with you for a while, just breathing, before reaching over to get something from the nightstand.

"Close your eyes, open your mouth" he ordered in a soft voice and you complied.

"Taste it" something cool and wet touched your tongue. It was sweet and creamy in your mouth.

"Open up and bite down" he said, and you closed your mouth around it and bit down. A stream of sweet and fruity juice filled your mouth, made sweeter by the cream and there were also chunks of something...

"Let it sit in your mouth, taste it" Law said in his soft, deep voice. It was always easy for you to listen to him. His voice was deep and dark, it sounded soft and rich, especially that close to your ear. It was like the chocolate you began to taste as it melted in your mouth and balanced the sourness of the strawberry and the sweet cream with its heavy chocolate flavour.

You swallowed.

"Can you tell me what it is?" you could feel his breath tickle your ear.

"A strawberry? With dark chocolate and cream" you said and felt a soft kiss to your forehead as focus returned to your world. You realised that he was holding your hand in his, fingers threaded, and that he was rocking you back and forth.

You opened your eyes and saw the rest of the strawberry in his long fingers. He dipped it deep in cream once again, getting some on his fingers as well.

When he offered it to you, you took the strawberry in your mouth but couldn't resist to get the cream from his fingers as well. As you kissed it from his fingers, there was a light shiver in his body.

Ace

As your commander, he was responsible for you and your wellbeing. Always there, always an open ear and an easy smile. So when fear clasped its hand around your throat, you ran to him, heaving and babbling nonsense.

"Woah, slow down" He put his hands on your shoulders and made you look at him.

"Did something happen?" He asked, suddenly very serious.

You told him what led to your panic attack. "It's just in my head, I'm so sorry" you gasped for air because you hadn't been breathing right.

Suddenly, Ace put something on your head. In the midst of your attack, you were confused.

"This is now your safety hat" he explained. As you watched his black, messy hair in the wind you realised- your wearing his signature hat now.

"Come here, I know what will calm you down. A little comfort food." He reached for a small Basket and sat cross legged on the floor. You sank to your knees and stayed there, unable to move.

"If you stay like that your knees will hurt" He tugged on your arms to draw you into his lap.

"You know what calmed my baby brother down everytime? Food." He smiled a broad, reassuring smile and gave you a strawberry. You swallowed it almost without chewing.

"Hey! Not so fast, concentrate a bit ok? It'll calm you down" He reached for another.

"Now slowly, one bite. Keep it in your mouth. Notice all those small seeds in its surface? And the texture inside?" His voice was calm, soothing, "very good. Now you can chew and swallow."

You gulped it down, your throat still narrow, but your heart was beating a little calmer.

"You're in luck I planned for some sweet dessert. I've prepared everything! Here's another" this time, he dipped it in cream.

"I like the cream, it somehow makes it more fruity!" He said as he took one himself.

"Not so fast" He reminded you and you concentrated really hard on being slow and patient.

"Good stuff, right?" Another strawberry vanished in his mouth.

"Want another?" He asked.

You nodded and opened your mouth for one more. It was so generously dipped in cream that a drop landed on your chin.

"My bad" Ace said and wiped the cream with his finger and licking it off. He watched you eat and gave you another, with an even bigger crown of cream.

As he moved it to your mouth, a big drop fell, right on your collarbone. You definitely were in the moment now, the cool drop was like a needle on your skin.

"Oopsie" He whispered with a broad smile and trailed his fingers down your collarbone, "I'm so sorry..."

"You don't sound sorry" you chuckled.

"There's that smile again" and gave you a soft kiss.

"You were very brave" He whispered into your ear.

----

I hope the first part was to your liking! If you want something tweaked for the last three let me know ❤️

[puhpandas]

@ggyweek2024 Day 1: Scars

(2,434 words)

After developing a new normal, Tony finally asks Gregory about how he got the scar on his face.

One of the first blaring changes that Tony noticed about Gregory when seeing him again after so long was his scar.

Tony couldnt help but stare when he first saw it. It was thick and jagged, and discolored a darker shade than his skin. It was large, jarring on his face, and travelled from his jaw across his cheek to his nose.

And even after they had the big long talk about everything and discussed and debunked and explained, Gregory never told him how he got the scar.

It took Tony a while to feel normal enough around Greg to go to his house a lot. It's more common than not, now, for Tony to go to Greg's after school and get to know him. The real him.

But through it all, Tony's never gathered the courage to ask Greg about the long jagged line taking up a quarter of his face.

Its been weeks, now, since they reunited. Possibly months, and Tony hasnt asked Greg about it in that long.

Its never felt right to. Even when things were still centered around what happened enough to reveal that much, it had been too soon, and any time afterwards, Tony was just happy to be friends with Greg again. He never wanted to mess up any normalcy and his relationship for Greg to satisfy his own curiosity.

He already learned his lesson about that.

Today's one of the days he goes over to Greg's to hang out. The standard routine continues as normal; Tony bikes to Gregory's house, parks, goes inside and greets Vanessa and Freddy on his way to Greg's room, who both greet him back enthusiastically, and then he goes in.

When Tony enters Gregory's room, he immediately finds him hunched over at his desk. His back is facing Tony, and even from his point of view he can see Gregory's arm moving back and forth in a scribbling motion. He doesnt seem to hear him come in. He's so engrossed in whatever he's drawing he's almost nose to nose with the surface of the desk.

Instinctively, a smile quirks on Tony's face. He shuts the door quietly behind him, and goes over to Greg's chair.

Gregory only seems to notice him when he's in his peripherals. He jolts slightly, eyes widening in suprise, but then hes smiling and setting down his pencil.

"Jeez," Greg chuckles. "You scared me."

"Sorry." Tony replies. The window is open and the blinds are open by Gregory's desk, and it casts a few lines against Greg's face and his paper. Tony switches his gaze to Gregorys latest drawing, and smiles again.

It's some comic centered around Gregory and Freddy taking down a bad guy. The panels are dramatic and scary looking, and Tony notices that near the end of the page, in the right bottom corner, theres a panel where Gregory is completely alone.

He's interrupted by Gregory calling his name.

Tony looks back over, and the sunlight peeking through the blinds somehow manages to cast a perfect halo around the scar on Greg's face. It's like the world somehow knows that Tony's been stewing in curiosity about it lately.

Tony must have been looking at it, because when he tears his gaze away to look at Gregory himself, he shuts his mouth from where he was about to say something and darts his eyes to the side. His hand comes up to his cheek.

"Sorry." Tony says again. He looks at the floor.

One moment, then, "Its okay." Gregory drops his hand after a few seconds of silence. "Did you come over to finish our book? We only have a couple chapters left, I think. I saw that the second series is way longer."

Tony smiles again. "Yeah." He confirms. "Are you reading or am I?"

"You read last time." Gregory gets up from his chair, leaving his comic and colored pencils behind. "I'll do it this time."

Tony still feels bad about making Greg uncomfortable, but Gregory seems to have moved past it. He sighs. "Okay, sure. This is the last book, isnt it?"

"The last in series one." Gregory replies, moving to his bookshelf. Tony watches him go. "Funny how we only started reading because you wanted a reference to start writing first person, and now we're going to start series two."

Tony smiles, knowing why exactly he kept reading for so long. Of course he's inspired by the first person point of view, but theres another reason he likes reading the books so much. "Its a good series."

Gregory plucks the book off of his shelf and makes his way over to his bed. Tony follows him, and they sit side by side, leaning against Greg's pillow as he opens to the bookmarked page.

Tony's on Gregory's right side, meaning that Tony has perfect view of his face scar when he leans down to see the pages clearly. He sighs out his nose, trying his best to ignore it. Greg's obviously uncomfortable with it. He thinks. He doesnt need to tell me. I dont need to know.

While Gregory is finding their last page, Tony thinks about how hes never told Gregory how he got his own face scar. The thin pale line on his right cheek.

But then he remembers that he doesnt need to tell him, because Gregory already knows how Tony got the scar.

"Here." Gregory rips him out of his thoughts, pointing at the page. He clears his throat, and Tony tries to ignore the proximity, and how Gregory's face scar is in his peripherals.

"I looked around to make sure we were alone." Gregory starts reading. "Then I leaned in close and whispered: "My Achilles spot. If you hadn't taken that knife, I would have died.

She got a faraway look in her eyes. Her breath smelled of grapes, probably from the nectar. "I dont know, Percy. I just had this feeling you were in danger. Where...where is the spot?""

The word knife makes Tony think again, even when he tries to pay attention to the story. Tony's own face scar was made by a knife. His eyes dart back to Greg's cheek.

"I wasn't supposed to tell anyone." Greg's voice echoes in his room. "But this was Annabeth. If I couldnt trust her, I couldn't trust anyone.

"The small of my back.""

"Greg." Tony interrupts impulsively, not tearing his eyes away from the discolored line on Gregory's face. Gregory stops reading, twisting his neck to look at him. When Greg looks him in his eyes, Tony switches his gaze to look back. "Uh... can I ask you something?"

Gregory seems to deflate a slight bit, but Tony only notices because he's watching closely.

Greg sighs almost soundlessly, then: "My scar."

Tony jolts, his eyes wide. He glances to the side. "Oh, um--"

"I know that's what you're going to ask about." Gregory interrupts. Tony risks a glance back, the inklings of guilt in his stomach, but Gregory doesn't look angry, upset, or uncomfortable. Just kind of resigned, but in the least worst way. "Its okay."

Gregory shuts the book, only pausing to place the bookmark back in. "Is it okay?" Tony asks. He wouldn't want anyone prying for answers about his face scar. He hopes that Greg wont mind as much because its Tony.

"I see you looking at it all the time." Gregory tells him, shifting in his seat to angle his body so he's fully facing Tony. Tony forces himself to look him in the eye. "I know how you are. It's probably killing you, isnt it?"

Tony tries not to let his jolt show at those choice of words from Gregs mouth, and he nods. "Sorry." He apologizes. "I just--"

"You cant stand not solving a mystery." Gregory interrupts again. He fidgets in his seat. "I get it."

Tony doesnt respond again. He just stares, and watches how Gregory is looking away from him when it falls silent. He looks at how Gregory's face is tilted so the scar is in perfect view for Tony, and how his fingers fidget with the strap of his watch and how his knees seem to tremor ever so slightly.

He waits. In the silence, he can hear the TV in the living room droning on through the walls. He can hear the barely audible exhaust from cars from outside. He can hear his own heartbeat in his chest, and he can feel his own guilt for being excited to be told.

"Its..." Gregory's voice is jarring in the silence. He looks back at Tony, and there are lines under his amber eyes. "Its not a fun story. Might... might remind you of some things."

Gregs eyes had darted to the right side of Tony's face when he said that, and Tony's brows raise. He's suddenly hyper aware of his own face scar.

He looks at Greg's, sharp and large and jagged. It dips in his skin around his jaw, and it makes the skin around his left eye stretch differently. Its darker against his tanned skin, and Tony sighs out. "That's okay."

Tony doesn't notice how Gregory never worried about trusting Tony.

"Vanessa was like me." Gregory jumps right in. "She had a knife, and I just woke up with no memory, and she just..."

He trails off, making a slashing motion with his hand. "I barely got away with my life." He says, his voice slightly wet. "If I was just a little slower..."

His eyes get faraway, and Tony, in between his shock and taking that in, bravely reaches out a hand and sets it on Gregory's fidgeting one.

His hand is warm against Tony's icy fingers, and it's enough to bring him back to reality. He gasps a little, and Tony catches that same expression that he used to think made Gregory look so young a year ago.

Tony doesnt bring up his own scar, because he knows Gregory knows how it came to be. It was from a knife, too, and Tony barely got away with his life.

Greg's other hand has been raised to his face, where he messes with the scar on his cheek. Theres a few fleeting moments where Gregory and Tony look at nothing but eachothers eyes, and it feels like it lasts hours.

Tony sees how Gregory unsubtly looks away from Tony's eyes to his right cheek.

Gregory's fingers twitch under Tony's hand. Tony watches Gregory remove his other hand from his face, reach out, and barely brushing against his skin, poke the spot on Tony's cheek.

"We match." Greg says, soft as silk. He smiles, but it looks pained.

Tony cant find a response in him, he just keeps staring, and realizing for the first time how Gregory's right.

It feels otherworldly, Tony thinks, or fictional, how Tony and Greg somehow have matching scars on their cheeks that are parallel to eachother. It reminds him, boldly, of how Freddy and Bonnie have parallel matching earrings.

But they were designed that way. Tony and Gregory somehow got here by chance. Are they this way because of the worlds design? Is it fate that both their cheeks were marked by that thing?? That the fact that they have scars at all tells that they're still here? That Tony would look in the mirror and stare at the pale line on his face in-between it all to remind himself that it was all real, and his theories weren't far-fetched? That he wasnt going mad?

"I have another," Gregory rips him out of his thoughts, tapping on his hand, and Tony realizes his eyes were unfocusing. "on my stomach."

Tony feels a surge of panic when Greg lifts his shirt, but he looks back from where he averted his eyes to where Gregory is pointing.

Theres a gathering of skin on his stomach. It's long and horizontal, almost diagonal, and discolored like his face scar. It's a line, Tony realizes. A big one. Tony's mouth parts, and he looks at Greg's eyes.

"When I freed her." Gregory looks away. "She got me again."

Tony doesnt respond, he just looks at the bunch of skin on Gregory's stomach. It obviously used to be a stab wound. One of Tony's biggest fears is stab wounds.

He shakes his head, clearing his throat and trying not to stutter. "I have one." Tony says. He shrugs off his jacket, tossing the green corduroy at the end of the bed, and he rolls up the sleeve of his raglan tee.

"Y-- Rab got me." Tony says, pointing at his bicep, where just under his shoulder on the side, theres a thick, long slice. He feels it with his finger, and it dips in the skin, dark like both of Gregory's are. "He tried to stab me in the back, but I dodged."

Greg stares at it for a long time, and his eyes look infinitely more tired.

He eventually shifts, and uses his other hand (the one not beneath Tony's) to move his hair out of the way near his temple. He tucks it behind his ear, pointing at a small scar right at his hairline. Its almost lined up perfectly with the corner of his eye. "One of-- Rabs lenses shattered, once." He explains. "It almost blinded me."

Tony sighs through his nose, feeling his eyebrows furrow.

Theres so many. Gregory has so many scars littered around his body.

Tony squeezes his hand.

He shows Gregory more scars of his, which are few. He eventually gets to the old childhood ones with funny and embarrassing stories attached to them, and he stops giving Greg room to reveal more of his scars. Tony can see little light lines and dots scattered around his arms and hands, and another bigger one peeking from under his shirt sleeve, but Gregory never gets to tell the stories of those. Tony just tells him about how the scar under his chin is from tripping at the pool when he was eight, and that the one on his ankle is from a scooter rearing back at him from a failed trick when he was nine.

Greg doesnt try to unearth all of the scars hes collected again. He just laughs at Tony's stories until tears prick his eyes, and the book sits un-re-opened next to them as the sky darkens outside Gregory's window. The lines under Gregorys eyes recede, and Tony's shirt sleeve starts to fall back down his arm.

Through it all, Tony never moves his hand from on top of Greg's, and Gregory doesnt move his either.

ao3 link

[zapreportsblog]

Request for female reader poly volturi.

Im sorry if this is long but the idea popped into my head and I just need to get it out.

She’s the mate of the three kings. She’s becomes a target from another coven that wants to take down the volturi. They managed to kidnap her and all hell breaks loose the volturi immediately act. She’s held prisoner in the covens hideout but she make an uno reverse on them because she’s has the ability to create and control fire she’s had this ability all her life but kept it. A secret from everyone is hard to control for her and her ability is triggered by emotion. She sorta let the coven take her so she could flambéed them and help her mates in the process even thoguht she’s human and was terrified there was no way she was going to let them use her to take down her lovers.😤 so the place was held prisoner explodes and when the volturi get there the captures are on fire and running for their live only to be finished off by pissed off volturi kings.

Needless to say they are shook when they see the place in flames and her just walking out blue like flame surroingg her like halo and your hung the assholes who tried it. Her mates : reactions:👁️👄👁️

The guard:👁️👄👁️

So the kidnappers are taken care of (killed and finished off since they where already burning)

After they all go back home she has some explaining to do. She’s explains how she always had this ability but was scared of telling them because it’s hard for her to control and it sorta drains her energy which is why she sorta fainted afte setting everything on fire but she did it for them and because she was pissed off. She also didn’t know if she would hurt them but she found out that her powers are also controlled by her Will so if she want to harm her powers would do that of not they don’t. She shows them this by by touching them with her hands having flames but it’s not hurting them which makes her happy because she thought that would be impossible for her to have physical contact with them( hug ,kiss etc) turns out she can do that without worrying.

Hugs and kisses they are just happy she’s safe and proud of her 😊 relieved that their mate is ok but not gonna lie they where so scared of losing her 🥹 some ptsd might have happened poor Marcus would have been sweating if he was human . Shook all of them where after these events.

Sorry if this is long btw😂😅

Not a problem at all, i believe it’s you who’s sending in these long requests but I don’t mind, you’re being detailed which is great :)

↳ target on my back ↲

➘ summary : You should know better than to mess with what belongs to the volturi

➘ aro x reader x caius x marcus, volturi kings x reader, twilight x reader

The ancient halls of the Volturi castle echoed with the weight of history as (y/n) moved gracefully through its grand corridors. She was no ordinary vampire; she was the mate of the three Volturi kings: Aro, Caius, and Marcus. Her beauty was as captivating as her power, and her presence commanded respect from those within the castle's walls.

Today, (y/n) was perusing the extensive library, her fingers tracing the spines of leather-bound volumes. As she immersed herself in the knowledge within, a sense of tranquility settled over her. The bond between her and the Volturi kings was unbreakable, forged through centuries of loyalty and devotion.

However, that very bond also made her a target.

Rumors had been swirling about a rival coven, the Romans, who harbored a deep-seated hatred for the Volturi. They sought to take down the Volturi and establish their dominion over the vampire world. (y/n)'s unique position as the mate of the kings made her a valuable pawn in their dangerous game.

As the sun set and twilight painted the sky, (y/n) felt the presence of the Volturi kings drawing near. Aro, with his piercing crimson eyes and enigmatic smile, approached first.

"(y/n), my dear, I trust the library has provided you with some solace?" Aro's voice held a melodic quality as he spoke.

She smiled, her gaze meeting his. "Indeed, Aro. The knowledge contained within these walls is a treasure."

Caius, with his regal bearing and cold demeanor, joined them. "The Romans have grown bolder, (y/n). We must remain vigilant."

"Agreed," Marcus added, his gaze distant and mournful. "They will stop at nothing to tear down what we have built."

Aro's fingers lightly brushed (y/n)'s arm, his gaze intense. "They are aware of your significance to us, (y/n). You must take extra precautions."

(y/n) nodded, her expression determined. "I understand. I won't underestimate the danger they pose."

Days turned into nights, and (y/n) continued to live under the watchful eyes of the Volturi. She trained rigorously, honing her already formidable abilities to new heights. She knew that the Romans would strike when they perceived weakness, and she was determined not to give them that opportunity.

As she patrolled the castle walls one night, a chilling breeze swept through the air, sending a shiver down her spine. Her instincts kicked in, and she turned to face a group of menacing figures emerging from the shadows.

It was the Romans.

Their leader, a tall and imposing figure, stepped forward. "Ah, (y/n), it seems you've been well-protected by the Volturi."

(y/n) stood her ground, her voice unwavering. "I won't be swayed by your threats."

The Roman leader chuckled, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You underestimate our resolve, (y/n). Your connection to the Volturi is your weakness, and it will be your downfall."

The chilling night air hung heavy with tension as the Volturi gathered in the grand hall of their castle. News had reached them that (y/n), their mate and a crucial member of their coven, had been kidnapped by the Romans. The three kings exchanged grim looks, their expressions mirroring their shared concern.

"We must act swiftly," Aro declared, his voice carrying an edge of urgency. "The Romans have shown their hand, and they will not hesitate to use (y/n) against us."

Caius's eyes glittered with fury. "We will crush them and retrieve our mate."

Marcus, usually reserved, nodded in agreement. "We cannot afford to wait. Let us strike immediately."

As dawn approached, the Volturi assembled their forces and prepared to confront the Romans. Their resolve was unwavering, and the power they wielded was unlike any other in the vampire world.

Meanwhile, (y/n) found herself in a dimly lit chamber, the cold stone walls a stark reminder of her captivity. The Romans had used her own power against her, exploiting her vulnerability to fire by rendering her unconscious. As she slowly regained consciousness, her surroundings came into focus, and her heart raced with a mixture of anger and determination.

It was time to turn the tables.

Summoning her latent power, (y/n) focused her energy, creating a small flame in the palm of her hand. As the fire danced, she concentrated on her surroundings, igniting the edges of the ropes that bound her. The flames spread quickly, and within moments, the ropes were reduced to ashes.

With her hands free, (y/n) stood, her eyes blazing with intensity. She extended her power, flames licking across the walls of her prison. Panic spread through the Roman vampires as they realized the danger they were in. The fire roared to life, illuminating the chamber with an eerie glow.

"(y/n)!" the Roman leader shouted, his voice laced with desperation. "Stop this madness!"

She fixed him with a steely gaze. "You underestimated me. You may have taken me captive, but that’s only because I wanted you to. You may think you can control me, and those around me but I know one thing you can’t control.”

“And that is my power."

As the flames continued to rage, (y/n) moved with confidence, using her fire manipulation to keep the Romans at bay. She fought with a fierce determination, knowing that her ability was her greatest weapon.

Outside, the Volturi arrived at the Roman hideout, their presence like a storm descending upon the coven. The clash of powers and the chaos of battle echoed through the night as the two powerful factions collided.

Inside the chamber, (y/n) felt the familiar energy of the Volturi's arrival. She channeled her fire, creating a pathway through the walls. As the flames surged, she burst through the stone, emerging from the chamber in a blaze of fire and fury.

The Volturi fought with unmatched strength, their combined power a force to be reckoned with. Aro's crimson eyes blazed, Caius's wrath was unleashed, and Marcus's mournful gaze carried a weight of centuries.

Seeing their mate free and fighting alongside them only fueled their determination. The battle raged on, and (y/n) unleashed her fire against the Romans, their defenses crumbling in the face of her power.

In the midst of the chaos, (y/n) stood alongside the Volturi kings, her flames casting an ethereal light. The Romans were defeated, their plot shattered, and the Volturi's legacy remained intact.

And all remaining members were finished off by the kings themselves.

As the last embers of the battle flickered and faded, the Volturi kings and (y/n) stood amidst the aftermath of their victory. The scent of smoke lingered in the air, and the remnants of the Roman coven lay defeated around them. The bond that held the Volturi family together was stronger than ever.

Aro, his eyes alight with curiosity, approached (y/n) as she emerged from the dissipating flames. He regarded her with a mixture of intrigue and wonder. "My dear, I couldn't help but notice the way the flames danced around you. It was as if you were surrounded by a halo of fire."

Caius nodded in agreement, his stern expression giving way to genuine interest. "Indeed, your power over fire is remarkable."

(y/n) met their gazes, her own filled with a mix of emotions. She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "I've always had these abilities, even before I became a vampire."

Marcus's voice, usually soft-spoken, held a touch of surprise. "You've had this power all along?"

She nodded, her gaze steady. "Yes, I've been able to create and control fire since I was a child. But I never saw fit to tell anyone. I didn't want my abilities to overshadow my role as your mate."

Aro's smile was genuine, his eyes reflecting a newfound appreciation. "My dear, you needn't have hidden such a remarkable gift. Your power is a testament to your strength and uniqueness."

Caius's lips curved into a rare smile, his tone carrying a hint of playfulness. "You've kept quite the secret, (y/n)."

She smiled back, her heart warming at their reactions. "I wanted to prove my worth through loyalty and action, rather than relying solely on my abilities."

Marcus's gaze held a sense of understanding. "And prove yourself you have."

As the realization sank in, (y/n) felt a weight lift from her shoulders. The Volturi kings accepted her not just for her bond to them, but for who she truly was. Her power was a part of her identity, and it was something she no longer needed to hide.

Aro's voice held a note of excitement. "Your power over fire will only enhance our family's strength. With your abilities, we are an unstoppable force."

Caius nodded, his tone resolute. "We will face any challenges that come our way, together."

Standing amidst the remnants of the battle, the Volturi kings and (y/n) looked to the horizon, their unity unbreakable. The flames that had once been her secret were now a symbol of her strength, their glow illuminating the path forward. As the night gave way to a new day, the legacy of the Volturi burned brighter than ever before.

As the Volturi kings and (y/n) discussed her newfound revelation of fire manipulation, the guards stood in the background, their expressions a mix of curiosity and uncertainty. Among them, Felix couldn't hold back his incredulous thoughts any longer.

His deep voice cut through the moment, and he spoke with a mixture of sarcasm and mock concern. "So, no one's going to talk about the fact that her powers are literal fire? Vampires fear fire, and she can literally burn us to dust and ash if she so feels like it."

A brief, awkward silence fell upon the group. Aro, Caius, and Marcus exchanged glances, their expressions a blend of amusement and understanding. (y/n) looked at them, her lips twitching as she fought to suppress a smile.

Aro finally spoke, his tone light yet carrying an air of assurance. "Felix, my dear guard, you bring up a valid point. However, I believe we can all trust (y/n)'s discretion in how she wields her power."

Caius's dry humor made an appearance as he added, "Indeed, I would prefer not to be turned to ash, should I accidentally upset her."

Marcus's gaze held a hint of mischief. "I suppose that's a mutual sentiment."

Felix blinked, caught off guard by the lack of surprise or panic in their responses. "Oh. Okay, then. I see how it is."

(y/n) couldn't help but chuckle at Felix's reaction. She stepped forward, her tone light. "Don't worry, Felix. I promise not to burn you to ash."

Felix raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a half-smile. "Appreciate that, (y/n). It's good to know our safety is a priority."

As the tension eased and laughter echoed through the hall, the Volturi guards and the kings shared a moment of camaraderie. (y/n)'s newfound ability had brought an unexpected twist to their dynamic, but they embraced it with the same unity that defined their coven.

Amidst the laughter and shared understanding, (y/n) felt a sense of belonging stronger than ever. Her fire was no longer a secret, but a source of strength that bound her even closer to the Volturi family. As the night gave way to the dawn, they stood together, ready to face whatever challenges the future might hold, fire and all.

[nadianova]

How much time do you spend planning some of your visual novels? At least going by some of them being jam submissions, it feels like you go from pre-production to a finished build very quickly, and it's amazing how you can manage that while still having an awesome story and so many assets.

Also, what is like, the process of planning a story out for you, if there's any vague or concrete similarities that you've noticed?

i think the important context here is that if i get bored/have nothing to do i jhust immediately get really suicidal its like ridiculous how bad it gets(ITS FINE DONT WORRY ABOUT IT IVE HAD 5 YEARS OF THERAPY). so i hate being bored and want to occupy my time wit something fun whatever that is. if i have a project to focus on but especially if I'm working for a game jam i have a deadline and i just decide to myself okay i will release a game now.

because ive made a decent amount of games i roughly have an idea on my capabilities, i can estimate how long it takes for me to write a story so and so long and how long it takes for me to draw stuff i need and how long it takes for me to throw stuff in renpy. these are estimates like as in I'm not accurate with it but still enough that i generally know where to start cutting ideas since the most important part is just having something to submit. i also know to plan around my brain wanting to slam my head into a wall an my hands suddenly giving up on being able to draw.

i think thats the beauty of game jams it forces you to just go for it and release something. releasing a 'bad' game is better than no game at all. experience only comes over time and i think just going for it is the best approach there is. like its literally 2 weeks 1 month whatever of your life. if you have the time and motivation go for it. make it work or fuck it up it wont matter in the grand scheme of things

im not sure what is the motivation behind the question but i do want to point out that this is just my method (if you can even call it a method) and the only way to figure out what works for you is to just try until you find something that actually works for you

idk not everyone will find it doable/fun to plan around spending two weeks gamedev 10 hours a day just cause i wanted to fit in 100 cgs for a jam game but apparently i can do that when i cheat my stupid adhd brain into hyperfocus with adhd meds

READMORE BECAUSE I CANT STOP RAMBLING

as for planning tho i think ideas on their own are worthless and its always about execution in the end. a great idea or a meh idea are the same for me but i do still enjoy the planning process so i keep notes

like i see a great tumblr post or i see some art or visual novel has some scene that inspires me: i save that shit for myself

having a big collection of random floating ideas like that helps me easily pick from especially during a jam type duration. right now i have like 4-5 half-baked project skeletons, some are literally like 3 pictures and some like naomida are a hundred hours worth of me writing world building about how the toilets work in a city with no plumbing cause its -30celcius(i love bringing this up)=

i dont normally plan that much, i tend to just wing it. like for malmaid i seriously just had some rough ideas and just went along as i wrote

same thing for dddeviance i had a handful of scenes that i really wanted to make and knew what kind of start and end it was meant to have and just figured out how to fill the in between. a lot of plot points changed vastly like halfway through i realised my devil + angel combination was stupid and i should just go for fallen angel + angel.

i think there really is no simple answer tho (as evident from the long as hell post) i don't really have a 'process' because every single game has been worked on has come with different type of planning since I'm always trying new stuff to try and distract me from boredom. like I've been using obsidian for naomida while previously I've just used a empty discord serve as my notes app for malmaid and dddeviance

and tbh with naomida I'm running to a new problem where I'm definitely planning too much. like I'm spending too much time fidgeting with details in chapter 4 even when i haven't finished writing chapter 1 just cause its so easy to get in the loop of "oh ill just change this one line" and boom 20 mins spent playing with my notes that didn't really progress my game since by the time i reach this point the whole scene might have shifted to something else

.

but if i had to squeeze an answer itd be something like everything related to my art or writing or games is just like "oooooo that seems fun i should remember this for later" and then i just string 10-100 of those into a story

i tend to write my stories in a format of

character A does this and that

this happens here

puppy play ryona piss orgasm

new day and then this happens here

sad thing happens

more piss orgasm

the end

and just like start filling in more details and working on my story in a nonlinear fashion until i feel like i have a strong enough skeleton that i can start writing my scenes. i hop around a lot, often preferring to write the fun scenes first like ero stuff or the ones I'm the most interested in and then the rest is just filling the blanks and stringing the cool scenes together