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#It’s been two years and yet I feel like a billion have passed and I’ve changed so
killuaisaprincess · 2 years
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😐,🤔,👨‍👧‍👧 and 🍰 for the ask game?
Thank uuuu 🥺🤲🙏 sometimes I wish I knew who anons were so I could aggressively give them love, but I know that’s the point, and people can be shy, etc. ask game 
😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?
Nothing, really! It wasn't always that way, butttt, when there really isn't anyone writing what you wanna read (minus Wifey blows kisses)... when I started rereading my stuff after I posted it, had an epiphany. This is a certified amazing, whattttt? I actually love this. Wow, I know, amazing me; I like what I write for me. Astonishing, me.
But 'till I remade and had to edit and repost everything, I was like... why didn't I reread this stuff sooner? Insecurity, really, but! That was the biggest confidence booster; I just kinda stopped caring that, yes, objectively speaking, my writing could be or maybe is ass, but I no longer saw it. Instead, I saw damm can't wait to read this later; ooooh, excited! I've always had fun writing, but until like a year and a half ago, I didn't really re-read my stuff? I was missing outtt. I mean I wrote them for me!
So I guess I used to get too anxious and embarrassed to re-read my stuff, so everything about my writing in a way. I was insecure, thought if I re-read this, what if it's trash writing, and I no longer love it cuz it's badly written, even if its my niches I love? But jokes on me; I love my stuff, esp. the newer stuff, even more now, haha.
🤔 What is the hardest part of writing fic?
Not the writing, lol. But, really. The writing is fun; it’s everything that surrounds it. My ADD brain wanting to write at the worse times when I’m busy. My ADD brain giving me too many wips, which, I don’t mind, but I’m sure my one or two readers are sick of, like, boo, you whore xd. Editing. The best part of editing is being able to reread my stuff; then, the worse is everything else. And writer's block…. that brings my mood down so much, my mortal enemy. YEAH, I DON'T SEE WHY I CAN'T WRITE EVERYDAY, BRAIN?! What’s the issue, brain?!
👨‍👧‍👧 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic? 
Not explicitly! My sister knows, and she’ll even drop a comment on my stuff when I’m feeling down without even reading the fic 😂. But it’s okay, I appreciate you, Pink 🥺🤧🙏 I probably wouldn’t tell my coworkers, but yeah, I have no problems offhandedly mentioning fic. 
🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave).
As much as I actually, really, really wish I could shell another writer that isn’t myself or Wifey <3 @primrosekisse, There aren’t many Gonkillu writers, and I’m super picky with my interpretations on top of it. I rarely risk reading fic (I will try every 5 months and cry) unless Wifey posts; we are connected same/similar headcanons! So my comfort fics are hers and my own. B-but if anyone ever finds a GK fic and then on top of it, it’s got similarities to my headcanons b-bwease. 🥺🙏😭😭😭😭
My comfort fic of hers is Beauty and the Beast AU! Although I read all of Prim’s things again (esp when I really just wanna cry about lack of GK) and need that good shit.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/28904382 As for my ownnnn, kinda hard to pick since I got a personal connection with them all, I love love all my more recent works as I feel I finally have a style I love and I just stopped giving a fuck what anyone thinks, so I’m really even more so going in and writing what I want, but my old stuff will always hold a place in my heart. I’ll cheat lol. Here’s a new one that’s a comfort:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/37499644
And an old one: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31349027/chapters/78127517
WAS MY FIRST KI IS A PRINCESS, SO HOW COULD I NOT 🥺😭🙏🤧🤲
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myuniformedlove · 1 year
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When you get struck with love, you can make a choice so right that hurts like it is so wrong.
Hello everyone! Welcome welcome! I am new to Tumblr, here to blog about my life as a long distance girlfriend of a military guy! Any of y’all who relate, please do feel free to follow! I want this to be a safe place that brings you comfort and makes you feel less alone!
Being with my Air Force boyfriend, we see trials the military constantly creates causing the relationship to be one of the most painful things I’ve ever encountered. Despite this, it’s been the most rewarding and treasured time of my life.
Our relationship is one of many complexities, starting long-distance and still nevermets, he even is on deployment EVEN FURTHER, across the world as we speak!
The day I met him seems forever ago yet just yesterday - all at the same time. It feels like fate that we came across one another out of the billions of active online users - running into him within a chat room of writers, this goober of man took my life by storm - blessing me with feelings I barely knew existed.
I remember our first conversation in August 2021, we hit it off, exchanged content ideas and then he simply disappeared. Little did I know he was starting this wearisome, complex and taxing career that yes, has its downsides but it shaped him into the beautiful man he is today.
After the 6 long months of Basic Military Training (BMT), he returned. I was bursting with joy! I simply desired a good friend and after his return we grew closer every passing month. He wasn’t a fan long distance and neither was I… yet December 2022 we became official from thousand of miles apart - Canada and the USA.
It’s not been always easy but it’s been so fulfilling. Scary but yet exhilarating. This kind of relationship dynamic of having my partner in the military as my true best friend was one so unfamiliar and one that I hold so dear to my heart because if the amazing life lessons it teaches alongside the true love.
Two years later I long his presence like the day I fell in love with him… being the nevermet couple we are, I am patiently waiting to hold him in my arms but the wait is worth it. I have no regrets. My boyfriend is worth every be longing tear.
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oddygaul · 10 months
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The Algebraist
After I read my first Culture book a few years back, I was so enthralled that I then proceeded to immediately devour the rest in a three-month span. I absolutely loved the books, the setting and worldbuilding, the casually-tossed about Grand Space Ideas, Banks’ extra-as-fuck prose, the obtuse plot structures... and so was genuinely upset when I found out one of my new favorite authors had recently died at 59. I decided that after finishing the remaining Culture books, I’d take a break and leave the rest of Banks' work for later, so as to space it out a bit and create the illusion of having new releases. Well, it’s been a couple years, and I’ve already re-read Look to Windward, so I went ahead and dug into The Algebraist.
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When I got to the space warlord who'd had his greatest enemy’s decapitated head put on life support and installed upside down on his ceiling to use as a punching bag, I started to get the feeling I was slipping into an old pair of comfortable shoes. When our protagonist first goes to visit his uncle, who has turned himself into a walrus for reasons that are never expounded on using a technology that’s never explained, I knew I’d truly made it home.
An excerpt; Slovius, the protagonist’s uncle, is trying and failing to raise his walrus body to a sitting position in his space jacuzzi, and has refused help from his butler Guime:
'Slovius turned his head round as he said this, trying to look at Guime, but only succeeded in causing himself to slip further back into the liquid, so that he was even more horizontal than he had been before he started. He slapped at the pool surface, splashing. “There! See what you’ve done?” He sighed mightily and lay back in the wallowing waves, apparently exhausted, staring straight ahead. “You may adjust me, Guime, as you wish,” he said dully, sounding resigned.'
The mental image of a walrus with a thousand yard stare of resignation being picked up and adjusted like a misbehaving cat… I live for this.
Ahh, I missed Banks’ style. There’s a certain je ne sais quoi to the way he worldbuilds. His ideas are so grand, and every tidbit feels as though it could be explored in a full story; and yet, you never know how much he’s actually going to dole out to you. Sometimes, a detail is mentioned only in passing, leaving the reader to wonder; sometimes, an idea is brought up by the characters and only later turns out to be a central concept of the story; and sometimes, Banks will just up and go off on a two page long tangent, and give you a history lesson on the rise and fall of some imagined stellar civilization that’ll never come up in the story again. You can tell Banks was the kind of writer that kept a notepad around to jot down all his cool ideas, and occasionally it feels like he just went “Ah, shit, this isn’t really relevant to the story, but I don’t know what other story it could fit into. Better just throw it in here anyway to be safe”. I can easily see how these asides could be huge turn-offs for a lot of readers, but they’re my absolute favorite. If unabashed exposition and paragraph long sentences are wrong, I don’t want to be right.
On the note of making sure a cool idea gets its due somewhere - maybe it’s because I had read Look to Windward again relatively recently, but the whole idea of the Dwellers, Seers and delves instantly jumped out at me as Banks wanting to revisit the (very ancillary to the actual plot) airsphere segments from that book. As I made it through the story, the differences continued piling up (if anything, the Dwellers are more like what would happen if the Affront from Excession had Culture-level tech), but I think the base similarity remains: a scholar, specially augmented to be able to survive in the gaseous, entirely airborne environs of a much older race, spending time living amongst and communicating with them to tap the knowledge of a civilization that measures time on a scale of billions of years. Maybe it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy that I see it this way; I always felt that the Uagen Zlepe subplot in Look was sort of a missed opportunity, given how interesting the premise was.
Although I guess when you think about it, an entire seven-chapter subplot ultimately leading to nothing more than sick worldbuilding and a cosmic sense of insignificance is the ultimate Banks Lore Tangent, isn't it?
Despite being written by Banks and taking place in a sci-fi setting, The Algebraist is explicitly set outside of the Culture universe. Knowing that, it was interesting to see what Banks chose to keep and what to leave out, what themes are still touched on and what ideas are different. Even though the Mercatoria doesn’t have god-level AIs or infinite resources, average citizens here still have access to some pretty out-there tech - being able to fully alter the makeup of one’s body to another species at a whim, for example, isn’t something you see commonly in other sci-fi. Still, the existence of scarcity (both economic and resource), a power structure that the characters must abide by, and, hell, an extant sense of mortality all have big effects on how the characters are written. In particular, I think these differences make Fassin Taak Banks’ most sufferable protagonist yet.
Look, I get why the protagonists in the Culture series are the way they are - given the way the Culture works as a society, it genuinely tracks that most of its citizens would be, at some level, kind of entitled, petulant, and capricious. Banks knows this, and is writing those characters with intentionality; I’d say investigating the idea of morally grey or unlikable protagonists is one of the throughlines of the Culture series, really. Still, I always think it’s interesting that often the most relatable characters in a given Culture novel are drones.
Fassin, meanwhile, feels a lot more grounded and approachable. He’s still a pretty privileged guy, having come from a Seer family and thus placed on a fast track to a cushy job in affluent society, but my man has a past, he’s been through some shit, he has interiority. I think the moment that made me realize how differently I saw Fassin was when we find out he’s actually a double agent, working to aid the cause of the Beyonders against what he feels is tyranny against AI. Hell, even the fact that he’s in a ceremonial arranged engagement for his family’s benefit, going along with it as a smokescreen for his real goals - it’s nothing earth-shattering in a vacuum, but it really puts into sharp relief how differently Culture characters are written, and how much of a challenge it must be to write a character conflict when the setting essentially demands it be purely internal.
I don’t think one approach is better than the other - they’re serving different purposes entirely. It was just pretty cool to see such a new side of Banks, since all my previous experience with him was within one series, and realize I have a lot more in store for me than I even thought. Knowing that he has multiple different modes / voices that are so distinct makes me excited to keep going with his other work, especially (eventually) the more grounded, non-M stuff.
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reasoningdaily · 1 year
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Image by ajijchan / Getty Images
TWITTER: What Was Twitter, Anyway? [37 min]
Willy StaleyThe New York Times
From April 2023: “It’s hard to look back on nearly a decade and a half of posting without feeling something like regret. Not regret that I’ve harmed my reputation with countless people who don’t know me, and some who do — though there is that. Not regret that I’ve experienced all the psychic damage described herein — though there is that too. And not even regret that I could have been doing something more productive with my time — of course there’s that, but whatever. What’s disconcerting is how easy it was to pass all the hours this way. The world just sort of falls away when you’re looking at the feed. For all the time I spent, I didn’t even really put that much into it.”
INSTAGRAM: The Dangerous Experiment on Teen Girls [10 min]
Jonathan HaidtThe Atlantic
From November 2021: “Rates of teen depression and anxiety have gone up and down over time, but it is rare to find an ‘elbow’ in these data sets––a substantial and sustained change occurring within just two or three years. Yet when we look at what happened to American teens in the early 2010s, we see many such turning points, usually sharper for girls.”
FACEBOOK: It’s Not About the Dopamine
Zachary SiegelGawker
From October 2021: “But Facebook isn’t bad for us because it may release a little surge of dopamine. Rather, Facebook has created social environments, occupied by over two billion people, whose rules and norms amplify already toxic social dynamics in the real world. To understand why Facebook is harming our mental health, we have to take into account the ‘social’ aspect of ‘social media’ rather than thinking of it as a pill we take that makes us go wild. Our brains, after all, live in a society.”
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digitalsatyr23 · 2 years
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Cars in Your Photo Album (Nonfiction)
           The brain is a funny thing, is it not? The idea of it feels so detached from the self when you think about it, but it’s the only part of you that is really you. Three pounds and about 100 billion neurons firing off all over the place. That’s you, in a can. The brain is the star of the show that is the self. Everything else attached might as well be stage extras in comparison, though they serve their purpose (as do stage extras). I’d be selling the rest of the body short if I didn’t think it had some contribution to who you are. It is, after all, the means through which you act and move through the world. It’s like a car, and you (the brain) are the driver. Of course, whether in life or on the road, rarely do we meet the driver.
           Going off of the car analogy, you can have a pretty rundown car but a great driver, or you could have a perfectly functioning car, but the driver may have had one too many margaritas and is just having a time trying to navigate that road we call life. And sometimes bad drivers beget bad cars, running them into the ground without really knowing why. Sometimes getting your license at 24 works out great, but other times not so great. Your mileage may vary. I think that sums up my problems. Late start, bad driver, rundown car.
           Let’s discard the terminology for an instant so we can cut to the heart of the issue. I’m not well, or at least not most of the time. We all have our issues, but mine are a bit longer lasting in the mental health department. Sometimes just getting through the day is a chore and I sit back and stare at the ceiling asking so many questions knowing I won’t have any of the answers. I often find myself adrift in an ocean of thought, both serious and pointless in its direction and execution. My mind, my self... It all seems awfully preoccupied with something, I just don’t know what yet.
           But author, you ask, “Didn’t you just say your mind is you? Why are you talking about it like it’s a separate thing?” and to that, dear reader, I ask another question: “When you look in the mirror, are you looking at yourself, or a reflection of yourself?” That’s just how I look at things – through a mirror. Or, depending on the day, a window. There’s always been a sense of distance I’ve felt between myself and the world. I’m there, but I’m not. It’s like being an observer through a camera. You see hundreds of people going about their business, living their lives, and sometimes ask yourself “Why aren’t I doing that?” It’s nice to watch sometimes, just don’t be a creep about it. Two or three seconds should do just fine.
           I guess that’s what being driven around in a car all your life will do to you. You stop trying to be an active participant and just enjoy the scenery. That sense of a long and winding road with no beginning and no end, life just passing you by... Have you ever felt that way? It’s certainly easy, but not rewarding in the slightest. Sometimes you notice a smiling face with a hearty laugh and you wonder how long you’ll be able to see that person before they disappear behind you forever, like the back of a car fading into the distance in your rear-view mirror. I’ve known quite a few cars from my travels, some of them near and dear favorites. Oh, to see the smiling Pontiac, the friendly Taurus, the beautiful Berlinetta! Life has a way of getting away from you, doesn’t it? And I’m not even that old! I dare not think about how I’ll been when I’m in my 30s and 40s!
           Have you ever been in love? I know I have. I remember the first time I fell in love, and the second time, and the third... It’s a very powerful feeling, but it messes with your head. Makes you do things you never thought you’d do in a million years. And even though you may regret it a little while later, and when it comes to an end you may be wracked with pain and grief, once you put enough distance between yourself and that memory, well, even the worst of times may seem like the best of times. Just another photo in the album you can share with another who is willing to look and listen, and the cycle continues...
           Why do I bring this up, you ask? I’m mostly reminiscing on a car I remember from a long time ago. Childhood, in fact. She was a Chevrolet Camaro Z with a spotless black paint job with a stereo that could sing, and I was a Buick with the bumper falling off. What, that’s a weird comparison? How should I know? I don’t know a damn thing about cars! Maybe a Camaro isn’t a great car, but I’ll be damned if I don’t miss her. My first best friend, and in hindsight, the first girl I ever fell in love with. No idea where she is now, but I hope she’s doing well. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday... But I doubt it. Just another photo in the album, as it were. Another car fading into the distance, its vivid colors plastered into my memory banks. I really need to stop comparing people to objects. It’s not a good look.
           Well, dear reader, this is where I leave you. It may have been brief, but I’ve had enough of this quiet contemplation, this looking out of the window. It’s high-time I traded seats and took the wheel back into my own hands. And who knows what detours I’ll take, what quaint little mom & pop diners I’ll find along the way. Life is yours, as they say, so you might as well cherish it while you can and see what the road has to offer, because you never know when your car will break down for good. Here’s hoping you have insurance.
Another nonfiction piece from college, this time with the prompt “Self”. Of the two nonfiction pieces I’ve written, both seemed focused on cars. I think a big reason for that is just how much of my childhood involved traveling from state to state, and later on all those family road trips. Being in one place for a long time didn’t become the norm until well into my teens.
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folkloreguk · 3 years
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French Class [2]
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!
genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias
words: 4.4 k
✽series masterlist✽
taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez
“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.
“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.
“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.
“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.
Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.
Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.
She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.
Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.
“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.
“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”
Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.
Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.
H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.
“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”
Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.
“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.
“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”
And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”
You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.
~
“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.
“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”
“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.
“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”
“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”
“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”
“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”
You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”
“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.
“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”
He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”
“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”
“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.
15 minutes later:
“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.
“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.
“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”
He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”
“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.
“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.
“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.
“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.
“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.
“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”
“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”
“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.
“And what’s the prize for winning?”
“The loser owes the winner a favor.”
“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”
“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.
“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”
“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.
“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.
“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.
“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”
“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.
“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.
“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”
He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.
“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.
“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.
“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”
“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.
“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”
He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.
“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”
You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.
When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.
“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.
“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”
In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.
Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.
“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”
You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.
“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”
“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.
He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.
“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”
“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”
“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.
“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.
“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”
He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.
“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.
“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“
“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”
“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.
Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.
“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.
“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.
~
“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.
“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”
“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.
“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”
“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”
“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”
“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”
“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”
“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”
“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”
“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”
“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”
You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.
“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)
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sandbees · 3 years
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A few about the Great Seven interacting with Twisted Wonderland characters VIA Yuu. 👀 I only have one word summary; Chaos.
Who would meet the Great Seven first? Obviously the first years (along with Ortho and Grim). They’re Yuu’s best friends after all.
Actually, it was Friday, the last day of the week. And coincidentally, that night would be a special night at the House of Mouse. Ariel and her sisters would be performing that night.
Mickey told Yuu that that they could invite anyone to watch the performance. So Yuu went to get special permission to take their friends along with them.
After kidnapping Ortho After Yuu gathers everyone, they explain that they’re going out to see a special performance at their workplace.
Keep in mind that no one knows exactly what Yuu’s new job was except Grim and Crowley. So naturally everyone was in on it and curious. (Only Grim knows about Yuu meeting the Great Seven though)
Ace: So where do you work at?
Yuu: I work at a club.
Epel: ...As in a strip club or a book club?
Yuu: Wtf Epel? It’s like a club but no alcohol. It’s technically a restaurant but they have live shows and put on a lot of performances so-
Deuce: Oh! That’s cool, we get to see it together!
Yuu: Actually I’m not going to be with you guys. I’m on duty that day so I’ll be waiting tables. But I’ll join during break.
Ace: Really? Bummer.
Ortho: Aw, I wanted to hang out with you too! But it will be fun nonetheless. :D
Yuu tells them to wait downstairs as they go upstairs to get everything ready.
They are low-key nervous, because the House of Mouse isn’t...exactly normal by Twisted Wonderland standards.
Meanwhile, Grim was telling the first years about Yuu’s experiences there.
Grim: You know, the House of Mouse is really popular, I’ve heard about a lot of customers Yuu has met.
Deuce: This job must have been hard...I’m glad Yuu got it though!
Grim: Yeah, they pay them 5,000 madol! Isn’t that great?!
Sebek: 5,000 madol?! That’s a lot more than being a waiter.
Ace: In a week? I mean having a salary of 5,000 is pretty impressive.
Grim: Hehe, it’s actually 5,000 a day.
First Years: WHAT?!
Jack: To be able to pay that much...the owner must be wealthy.
Epel: Yuu lucked out!
When Yuu comes down, the first years are asking a billion questions.
How did you find a job with such a high pay??? Is the work good?? Is your boss nice to you?? Explain everything-
Yuu assured them that their job is just waiting a bunch of tables, and that they’re payed well because the place is very popular.
Anyways, Yuu tells them that they’re going now and leads them upstairs.
“Shouldn’t we be going to the hall of mirrors-?” “It won’t work.”
The group kind of loses their mind as Yuu casually pushes Ace into their mirror, Grim follows behind.
“Come on, or do I have to push you through the mirror like I did with Ace?”
Safe to say is that they go through the mirror and are greeted with a very lavish dressing room.
“Wait woah this isn’t Mickey’s dressing room.”
Yuu finds a note and read it out loud. Apparently Mickey moved the mirror to a new room so they could have privacy. Anything in the room is for their use.
“I’m going to cry. He’s so nICE I DON’T DESERVE THIS-“
Yuu is pretty happy with this arrangement, actually. They also begin to explain the club’s shtick to their friends.
“So this is basically a club for entertainment with live shows and also cartoons on the screen. Oh, and sometimes a cat named Pete tries to sabotage the show so he can kick everyone out and make this his club.” “Isn’t that illegal-“ “Not if there’s no police.”
So anyways Yuu leads them outside and they run into Goofy.
Sebek: Is that-?
Yuu: Hi Goofy, I’m bringing my friends to a table for the show-
Goofy: Yuu! There you are! You’re needed at table 14.
Yuu: What? But my shift hasn’t started-
Goofy: Reservations from Hades himself.
Yuu: Oh shit, ok yeah I’ll be there as soon as possible-
Ortho: Hades? As in the God of the Underworld?
Yuu: Yes, I’ll explain later, more importantly let’s go find you a table.
Ace: I think not telling us you actually met one of the GREAT SEVEN!
Yuu: I did tell you; and you didn’t believe me.
Everyone is vibrating in nervousness and excitement. Especially Ortho. I mean, this is the GREAT SEVEN we’re talking about!
Yuu decides to introduce them to Hades. But surprise surprise, it’s all of the Great Seven!
Yuu’s first year friends are going to pass out from shock. Oof.
With some inquiry, Yuu explains to the Great Seven that the friends they brought were from Twisted Wonderland.
Let’s just say that the First Years got invited to sit at their table. (Sebek is quaking at the idea of sitting with the Witch of Thorns)
So while Yuu leaves to start work (not after taking all of their orders first, of course), the Great Seven begin asking the first years + Grim questions.
The first years are expectantly tense, but they loosen up.
Ursula and Jafar are a little disappointed that no one from their dorm is present, but they seem to easily forget that after Yuu tells them that they know people from their respective dorms anyways.
Yuu also gives them a little more information they found about their respective dorms, so that they don’t feel...left out? (Satisfied is a better word for it)
Ursula pets Grim and Jafar feeds him crackers. Grim does not complain, he’s fine. He becomes more compliant as his tuna arrives.
And some of the other’s thoughts? Well...
The Queen of Hearts almost blew up in anger at Ace and Deuce. They are idiots that do nOT KNOW THE PROPER WAY TO SPEAK TO THEIR SUPERIORS AND THEY HAVE BROKEN AT LEAST 359 RULES ALREADY-
But somehow, the Queen of Hearts warms up to the idiotic duo. She sees them as...annoying children she has to babysit but they’re also really adorable that she can’t stay mad at them forever. Plus, Deuce is trying and Ace has these wonderful card tricks that would make her Jester cry.
So at first, she does not approve, but as the night progresses she does. 8/10 would meet the ADeuce combo again.
Scar and Jack...hm. Well, I don’t think they’d get along of Scar’s sense of morality and justice of the past was brought up. However, the villains all agreed to not bring up their villainous past because they didn’t want to scare away Yuu/make them wary and distrustful of them. Same goes for the first years.
Anyways, Scar is impressed at how buff Jack is. He isn’t surprised though - he expected residents of his dorm to be powerful. Scar lays down some well deserved praise and Jack eats it up with a tail wag. Jack also talks about his dorm and what the dorm represents. Scar’s ego rises 100x and Scar becomes somewhat...egotistical. Well, maybe not like in a “I’m shoving my ego in your face” type of ego but in a “This pleases me and I will treat you kinder” ego.
Basically, Scar opens up a little more to Jack as the night progresses. Like a mentor/student bond.
The Evil Queen and Epel...well, the Evil Queen was quite picky with how Epel was acting. Yes, he had the proper posture but really, he was using the wrong forks to eat that particular kind of food. She expected better from someone who came from her dorm. So she ended up chastising him and scolding him for being “improper”. Like Vil.
She was shocked to say when Epel accidentally snapped back at her, before returning to his more “princely” persona. Ah, so the child had more than meets the eye. She tried a different approach, as in trying to ease Epel into talking to her. Certainly, Epel was much more headstrong and willful than that naive Snow White.
So, the Evil Queen and Epel have a rocky start, but by the end of the show.
Hades and Ortho...well, that’s a combo you never see everyday. But I think Hades would basically adopt Ortho. As in suddenly he gets father vibes from the kid. He’s also particularly interested in his own dorm, and asks Ortho about it. Ortho’s pretty chatty with Hades, and is happy to tell Hades about his dorm! He also asks a few questions himself; which Hades happily obliged to.
...and then it turns into Ortho talking about Idia and how wonderful he is. And Hades is like, “damn, this kid has a wonderful big brother. How come my younger siblings act like shit to me-“
So Hades silently swore to the River of Styx to keep this child safe, and Ortho had a fun time interacting with Hades!
Sebek and Maleficent...well, it could have been worse.
Poor Sebek was tense and tight lipped for most of the night. He really wanted to make a good impression on Malleus’ grandmother. (I don’t think Sebek has met Maleficent yet so-)
Maleficent was patient, however. She knew Fae kind were raised to think of Maleficent as a high authority figure that should be treated with upmost respect. Unlike the other kingdoms; the Valley of Thorns praised Maleficent like a goddess. She didn’t blame Sebek for acting like he was.
So she started with baby steps. Talking about how wonderful it was to meet her grandson’s bodyguard, how Malleus must have grown to be a strong magician, how she wished she had stayed to know more about her grandson.
Actually, the breaking point between the tense atmosphere between the two was Malleus. Sebek opens up a little more as he continues to talk to Maleficent.
At the end of the night, they’ve only talked about Malleus, but Maleficent was content with that. After all, keeping up with what her grandson was doing was more than enough.
By the end of the night, the First Years enjoyed the special performance and their time with the Great Seven. Things went well especially when Yuu came to join during their break.
So when it was time to go, everyone had happily said their goodbyes as they were ready to return.
“Oh, before I forget...Yuu, I have almost completed the portals for the others so do expect one of us to pop in soon.” “Oh, ok!” “...THEY MIGHT VISIT US?!”
Everyone is low key excited to meet again though.
So, the first years go through the mirror and stay at Ramshackle, chatting away at their time at the House of Mouse.
_=_
Yeah, this was a looonngg write, I’m actually going to do the rest of the TW cast in another post. I hope you enjoyed this one! :)
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Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?
Part 2
Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader
Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream
Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack
Word count: 6,737
(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone
This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it. 
Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends. 
However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart. 
Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years. 
You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.
That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.
Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same. 
Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin. 
The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.
That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence. 
You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony. 
Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed. 
When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.
While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living. 
Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again. 
Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it. 
You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.
He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that. 
After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.
Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.
The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again. 
You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him. 
“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears. 
“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.
“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book. 
Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"
"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails." 
Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down. 
"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed. 
"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"
"Oh, do enlighten us."
"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."
"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly. 
"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”
"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here." 
"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.
"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.
"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying." 
He narrowed his eyes, "make me."
A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred. 
He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.
"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks. 
He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury. 
You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.
"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."
Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move. 
He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"
You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."
"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.
"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"
You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.
While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting." 
"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"
"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top. 
You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"
He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.
You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks. 
Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few. 
His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so. 
"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.
You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief. 
Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading. 
You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks. 
No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive. 
A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks. 
You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?" 
He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void. 
Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.
"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this." 
"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"
You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you." 
"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"
He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.
You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace. 
Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.
You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.
You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you. 
A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."
"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing. 
You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.
A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him." 
"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.
The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen. 
With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void. 
After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.
Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying. 
You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.
The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors. 
Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible? 
This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless. 
Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air. 
"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?" 
"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"
"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."
Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?" 
Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?" 
"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance. 
"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me." 
Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded. 
Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just- 
The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.
"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss. 
A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto- 
Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve. 
You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition. 
“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice. 
You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years. 
“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.” 
Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.” 
“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.” 
“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur. 
As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.
One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay. 
When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost. 
Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears. 
“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement. 
“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!” 
Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”
You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands. 
“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”
“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.” 
He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person. 
“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’
“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right? 
Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy. 
You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes. 
The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot. 
“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust. 
That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…
You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy. 
You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin. 
Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction. 
Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?
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dothwrites · 4 years
Text
15.20 coda--at the end of the world
author’s note: while i am still reeling from the finale, this was my way of making some kind of personal peace with it. don’t mistake this for me agreeing with the choices made <3 
---
“I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”--Madeline Miller
---
Castiel opens his eyes. 
All around him is green. A moment later, he hears the soft sound of birds chirping in the background; from further away, the faint sounds of children laughing. The air is ripe with the smell of growth, damp in the air and life underneath his fingers. 
He sits up. The sky is a perfect shade of blue, the kind found only in poet’s and painters imaginations. A few feet away, the shrubs grow, flowers spilling over themselves in their enthusiasm to be born. Everything is a riot of life and color. 
“Cas.” 
Castiel’s heart thumps against his ribs. He knows that voice. 
He whirls around, already knowing who he’ll find. Several feet away, Jack waits, one hand raised in a short wave. 
Castiel finds himself up on his feet, and within two short steps, he’s enfolded Jack in his arms. For a moment, he forgets about everything which came before, and allows himself this sheer comfort. If nothing else remains, then Jack is here. 
Jack hugs him back, twice as fiercely, before they separate. Castiel holds him at arm’s length, trying to find injuries or hurt on him, but there’s nothing. In fact, it’s almost as if...
“Jack,” he says slowly, his arm falling away from Jack’s shoulder, “what happened?” 
Jack smiles, a little lopsided, but still his boy. 
“Well,” he says, gesturing towards a bench, “It’s kind of a long story. 
---
For all that Jack said it was a long story, it ends up being remarkably quick in the telling. Castiel listens, sometimes grieving and sometimes proud, as he hears of how Sam, Dean, and Jack ultimately defeated Chuck. His heart grows in his chest as Jack recounts Dean’s words. 
That’s not who I am. 
A small part of him wishes that he could be there to see it, but he tucks that part of himself away. He said his piece. He relieved the burden which has been pressing down on his shoulders now for years. In his lifetime, it was nothing more than a blip on the map, but those years have made all the difference in the world to him. Finally, he can look back on them now without regrets. 
“And so, I came here,” Jack finally says, shifting a little on the bench. He looks oddly guilty, like the times Castiel would find him sneaking snacks back into his room. “I thought...” 
“What?’ Castiel prompts, after a few moments when it becomes clear that Jack has no interest in speaking. 
“Sam and Dean don’t really need me anymore. I mean, I know that they want me, but the world is bigger now. And the people up here need me too.” 
It’s then that Castiel looks around, scrutinizing his environment more closely. The nagging sense of familiarity hits and then he wonders how he didn’t see it before. His favorite Heaven, caught in an eternal Tuesday afternoon. 
“It’s not right,” Jack says, his forehead wrinkled into an earnest expression of worry. “The people here are stuck. While I was on earth, we all talked about free will, but the people here don’t have it. They’re stuck forever in an endless loop of memories, and it’s all just...empty.” 
Jack looks at Castiel, and Castiel doesn’t see God. He doesn’t see a divine being, or Lucifer’s son, or even an angelic being. He just sees his boy, lost and confused, but still so pure, still wanting to do the right thing, no matter what. 
“Cas?” Jack asks. “Will you help me?” 
---
Rebuilding Heaven is slow work, but time doesn’t really mean anything here. It’s delicate to rebuild the walls separating billions of souls so that nothing collapses. Castiel works alongside Jack, making suggestions as his mind trips along to potential problems. 
Though it’s never said aloud, Castiel knows why Jack is working tirelessly. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, the knowledge sits that Sam and Dean are going to die. One day, they will pass from the earth, and come to Heaven, and on that day, Castiel wants everything to be perfect for them. He wants to show them a true paradise, a place without walls or barriers, a place where emotion is genuine and not just a manufactured memory. Rebuilding Heaven is his last chore, the last of his penance to be performed. 
He does make one stop, however. 
When he walks in the door, Kelly’s head lifts up from the book she’s flipping through. Her smile is a balm to the hurt places inside him, the ones that he likes to pretend don’t exist, because he was happy, yes? That was the whole point of everything, was to be happy. “Hey, Cas,” she greets him, shifting over and patting the couch next to her. “I was wondering when you’d be by.” 
“I’ve been busy,” Cas says, settling down on the cushions. In Heaven, his body is easier than it was on earth, more flexible, and he wonders if that’s because after all these years, he’s finally returned to where he was supposed to belong, or if it’s because he no longer has the shadow of his love pressing down on his shoulders. 
“Jack told me. Rebuilding Heaven? Sounds ambitious.” 
“The old Heaven was...not ideal,” Castiel says. “I thought it was at the beginning: each soul gets a paradise tailor made to them. But then, I realized that human life is meaningless without the connections we form along the way. Each soul, stuck forever in its own loop is...” 
“It’s lonely,” Kelly says, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Castiel returns the gesture, grateful for the connection. Her eyes are kind as she moves closer to him, her shoulder pressing into his. 
“So what happened?” 
---
In their time together, Castiel never told Kelly about Dean, at least not explicitly. But she had a brilliant mind and was able to see the threads of his longing woven into everything he did. Relating the story to her comes easily, and he tells her things which he would never tell Jack. 
“And I was happy,” Castiel says at the end. “I was.” 
“You trying to convince me or yourself?”
“Neither,” Castiel replies, bristling slightly. It was true that he might have been happier--he had performed a willful obfuscation of the original terms--but that doesn’t negate what he felt in that moment. The sheer love, the overwhelming gratitude, the incandescent happiness of being able, one last time, to proclaim to the world Dean Winchester is Saved. 
Everything else is unimportant when viewed through those lenses. 
“Why haven’t you gone to see him?” Kelly was always good at cutting to the heart of the problem. 
“Dean has his life on earth. I have my work here in Heaven. I don’t...” Because, of course, he’s asked himself the same question many times. Why doesn’t he go find Dean and tell him of one last, improbable miracle? 
“Cas, let me tell you: I didn’t know Dean all that well, but I didn’t need to if I wanted to know how he felt about you. It was all over his face.” Kelly turns to face him, suddenly serious. “Cas, you should go to him. At least allow him to speak his side. If he doesn’t feel the same way, then you’ll know. And if he does...” 
Castiel shakes his head. Happiness in the being is what he’s told himself ever since he awoke to find himself in Heaven. Happiness doesn’t come from the having. He will live with himself and find contentment in the works which he does. 
Kelly looks sympathetic, but doesn’t say anything as he walks out. 
There’s work to be done. 
---
Castiel sighs with satisfaction as he walks through Heaven. Slowly, the walls are coming down. Souls are mingling and interacting. There’s joy in the once quiet halls, the giddiness which comes from freedom after too long without. He moves through the different realms, silent as a thought, and goes unnoticed, at least until a gruff voice catches his attention. 
“What the hell are you doing here, boy?” 
A wide grin splits Castiel’s face. Only Bobby Singer would think to call an angel ‘boy’. He walks towards the old hunter, who looks the same now as he did in life, and is surprised when Bobby sweeps him up in a hug which would threaten to crack his ribs, were he human. 
“You did good,” Bobby whispers, his voice thick in Castiel’s ear. “I heard what you and that boy Jack did, and you did real good.” 
It means more than he would have thought, to have Bobby’s approval. After a moment’s pause, he hugs Bobby back. 
When Bobby pulls away, he quickly knuckles his eyes, before clearing his throat. “So, you fixed Heaven on top of everything else? What do you have planned next?” 
Castiel’s shoulders lift in a shrug. “There’s always work to be done maintaining Heaven. We don’t know what, if any, effects the restructuring will bring, so I suppose I will be traveling and making sure that everything is stable.” 
“If that ain’t a load of shit,” Bobby scoffs. “From what I’ve seen, your boy has enough power in his pinky finger to do just about whatever he wants. Stop making excuses and get your feathery ass back down there.” 
Castiel swallows. “It’s not quite as simple as that. Sam and Dean have a chance to live their lives, the way that they would wish for them to be lived. It’s not fair of me to intrude.” 
“Now, if that isn’t the biggest pile of horseshit I’ve ever heard.” Bobby’s mouth twists underneath his beard. “Only one thing keeping you from going back down to see those boys, and it sure as hell ain’t concern for Heaven or some BS notion that they’re better off without you.” Castiel opens his mouth, but Bobby speaks over him. “And don’t tell me that you’re just waiting either. Something I learned a long time ago--you never have as much time as you think you do.” 
Castiel closes his mouth and says nothing. 
---
Bobby is wrong. 
There’s still time. He doesn’t have to go yet. There’s still work to be done in Heaven, souls to be guided, walls to be broken. Jack still needs him. 
There’s still time. 
There’s still time, until there isn’t.
---
Castiel feels it before he knows what’s happening. It’s a rift, a tear, something which ripples throughout the universe and comes to hit him in the chest. He staggers backward, hand clutching at his shirt. 
His first thought is that Heaven is under attack, but a second’s observation tells him that’s not the case. Everything is fine. The fabric of Heaven remains secure, the souls are unbothered. It’s only him that feels the blow. 
With a flutter of wings, Jack appears beside him. His face is a mask of distress, tears welling in his eyes. “Cas,” he cries, clenching his hands into fists at his side. “Cas, it’s--” 
“Dean,” Castiel says, finally understanding the bolt of pain which ripped through him. 
It was too soon. He doesn’t know how much time has passed on earth, but he knows it was too soon. 
It’s always too soon. 
“Cas, what do I... I can heal him. I can go and heal him now. I can save him. I can...” Jack trails off, his feet still pacing in desperate circles. “What do I do?” 
It’s a child’s question, and Castiel has no answer. 
“Free will,” is all he says. “Whatever you do...It’s your decision.” 
---
Castiel feels when Dean Winchester’s soul enters Heaven. He held that soul within his grace, he snatched it away from the filth and flames of Hell. He cradled that soul while he was reassembling Dean’s body, pulling atoms out of air to create skin, flesh, and bone. He would know that soul at the end of everything, and he knows it here, when it settles into the place which was created for him. 
It was as perfect as Castiel could make it; down to the Impala sitting in the Roadhouse’s parking lot. He created every inch of Dean’s Heaven in homage, in apology. 
It wasn’t fair. Dean deserved to live to a ripe old age. He deserved to enjoy the world for which he fought so hard. He should have grown old, should have found peace, should have discovered the foibles and pitfalls of normal, human existence. Dean worked too hard, for too long, and he deserved a kinder, softer fate. Instead, he’s here, and all Castiel can do for him is to craft his Heaven with painstaking care. 
He pauses on the boundaries of Dean’s Heaven. Every fiber of him yearns to go forward, to rejoice in Dean’s presence, to see that beloved face again. He wants it so badly he can almost taste it, leather and gasoline and whiskey mingling together until he’s back in the bunker, listening to the sounds of his family--
Castiel takes a step away from the border. First one, then another. After three steps, it becomes easier. 
Dean has his paradise, and Castiel won’t interfere. 
---
Heaven moves as it always does, timeless and changeless. There is no turn of the earth to mark the passage of time. Instead, it moves like the ocean, rolling waves which are always moving and yet the surface remains the same. Castiel travels through various Heavens, observing the newly liberated souls, and taking his peace from their newfound enjoyment. It eases something within him to see his former home restored, better than it ever was before. 
He’s inspecting a field of sunflowers when the sound of a car door closing surprises him. Immediately, his heart lurches in his chest, dipping down to somewhere around his knees before hurtling upwards to lodge in his throat. He swallows before he turns around. 
Dean Winchester is there. 
Castiel’s heart, always out of his control, performs a quick dance against the confines of his ribs. Dean looks...He looks whole and wonderful, vibrant and alive. The lines around his eyes look as though they’ve been carved through laughter instead of despair. His shoulders sit easier, no longer pressed down with the burden of the entire world. 
Castiel licks his lips. “Hello, Dean,” he finally says, when it becomes obvious that Dean has no intention of making the first move. 
Dean’s lips quirk up in a grin. “Cas,” he says, not moving from where he’s leaning up against the frame of the Impala. “You’re a hard guy to track down.” 
Layers upon layers of subtext are placed within the seemingly simple sentence. Castiel remembers Purgatory as well as anything else, the desperate year of keeping one step ahead of Leviathans while close enough to Dean to protect him if need be. 
“I’m sorry,” Castiel says faintly. “I wasn’t aware anyone was looking.” 
Dean’s face performs a series of interesting maneuvers, dropping and rising and twisting. It finally settles into an expression like stone as he pushes off the car and storms towards him. Castiel waits, caught up in breathless anticipation of the oncoming storm. 
“Look,” Dean growls, reaching out and snagging the lapel of his coat, almost like he wants to ensure that Castiel doesn’t escape. Castiel doesn’t even dream of it; there’s no other place he’d rather be than caught in Dean’s grip. “There was a lot of shit going on at the time, so I didn’t get to say it then, but there’s nothing happening now, so you are going to sit here and listen, all right?”
Castiel nods, but Dean doesn’t seem to notice. “I can’t believe you didn’t...” He runs the hand which isn’t still wrapped up in Castiel’s coat over his face. “You idiot,” he finally breathes. “A couple of dumbasses. You’ve had me, Cas. All along, you’ve had me.” 
Castiel looks up at Dean in sharp surprise. When he meets Dean’s eyes, there’s nothing but the infinite compassion which he fell in love with. “You... You’re this force of nature that came bursting into my life. All this time, you’ve always been there, always helping, and I took that for granted, I know I did. But, god, Cas, I should have told you every day how thankful I was to have you there with us. I should have let you know what a miracle you are. You never gave up on me, not once, not even when I deserved it.” 
Castiel’s breath hitches in his chest as Dean lets go of his coat. Slowly, with a shaking hand, he reaches up to cup Castiel’s cheek. “You never stopped believing. You never stopped trying. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” 
“Dean.” The name bursts out of Castiel’s chest in a harsh breath. Dean’s words are working their way underneath his skin, to the point where his body can’t contain them. 
“Cas.” Dean gently angles his face up so that there’s no escape when he says, “I love you.” 
“I’m sorry,” explodes from Castiel’s chest, the helplessness and grief he felt when he felt Dean’s soul leaving earth erupting in a single quick sob. “Dean, I’m so sorry, I should have been there, I should have done something, I never should have left you alone--” 
“Cas.” Dean’s fingers press into his cheek, not hard, but firmly enough to get his attention. “It sucks, all right? There was so much I wanted...” The corner of his mouth drops. “I was going to get you out, and you, me, and Sam were going to head to the beach. I was going to get you drinking out of a coconut, maybe a Hawaiian shirt. We were going to do Christmas, I was going to take you to a theme park and see if you puked on roller coasters. I wanted...” For a moment, grief so overwhelming that it can’t be touched crosses Dean’s face, but then, with effort, he pushes it away. “There’s so much that I wanted, but it’s done now. And besides, you’ve been busy.” Dean raises his eyebrows. The grin on his face invites Cas to smile as well. “Reforming Heaven?” 
“I wanted...There was so much I did wrong here. I thought if I could make it right, that maybe...” Castiel leans his cheek into Dean’s hand. “I wanted it to be perfect for you. You weren’t supposed to be here yet.” 
“I know. I know. And it’s not okay, but you’re here, all right? Mom’s here, Bobby’s here, Charlie, and Jess, and Kevin, and Ellen and Jo...They’re all here, and thanks to you, I’m going to see them. You did that, Cas.” 
“Jack did most of the work--” Castiel begins, but he’s cut off by the soft press of Dean’s lips against his. 
Sparks burst in his chest as Dean’s hand slides around to the back of his neck to cradle his head. His other arm slides around his waist, and suddenly, Castiel is held by Dean Winchester, by this miracle of a man. Dean’s kisses consume him, until he’s no longer Castiel. Instead, he’s heat, and friction, and more. 
“You and me,” Dean pants against his lips, pulling away just far enough to run his nose along Castiel’s. “We’ve got time now, Cas, we’ve got so much time. I’m going to take you apart, going to show you how much I love you, every single day. I’m going to show you everything.” 
Castiel is drowning in the outpouring of Dean’s devotion. He’s helpless in the riptides. All he can do to save himself is kiss Dean again, tasting salt on their lips from where their tears trace down to their lips. Castiel cries partly for Dean’s missed opportunities and the fact that life is so cruel. But he also cries from happiness. Dean is right. Here, they have all the time they could ever want. There’s time to explore every feeling and desire, time for them to become themselves, without the pressure of the world around them. 
They part. Somehow, Castiel’s hands have found their way onto Dean’s waist. One of his thumbs is braver than the rest of his whole body, as it sneaks underneath Dean’s shirt to touch bare skin. Dean grins at him. 
“Hey, Cas,” he asks, pressing his forehead to Castiel’s. “Do you want to take a drive?” 
Their fingers entwine as they walk towards the Impala. Castiel’s chest feels light, like Dean’s hand is the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground. “I’m still trying to figure out the roads here. It felt like I was driving around for forty years to try and find you.” 
They settle into the Impala, where they’ve been so many times before, but now Castiel can enjoy every squeak of the leather seats. He can revel in the imperfections of the car because of the perfection that’s next to him. Dean Winchester reaches across the seat and takes his hand, as easy as breathing. 
“I can’t wait to show Sam everything,” Dean says, as he guides the Impala back onto a road which Castiel is almost certain wasn’t there when he arrived. “I, uh...Hope it takes him a while to get here. But. Yeah, when he gets here, I can’t wait to show him everything.”
“We’ll see it all together,” Castiel finally says. It’s all he can say, his heart too busy dancing in his chest. 
They have all the time they want.
---
Time slips and passes and stops. In between his time with Dean, Jack, and the rest of the residents of Heaven, and performing maintenance throughout Heaven, Castiel watches the earth. He sees those left behind grow older. Claire and Kaia start a family, Claire finally having set aside the kernel of anger in her heart. Castiel watches Sam and Eileen’s family grow, smiling when Sam finally goes back to law school and gets his degree. He spends the rest of his career fighting for justice for children lost in the system, those who can’t fight for themselves. Saving people, hunting things, indeed. 
Several times, Castiel thinks about going to visit Sam, if only to assuage the grief he can still see the man carrying, but each time he stops. It hurts, but grief is a facet of life. This grief is natural. It comes honestly. It’s not manipulated by a sadistic higher being for a voyeristic pleasure. 
Eileen comes out to the Impala and brings Sam back into the house with gentle touches. Throughout the years, she’s learned how to navigate Sam’s moods, and knows how to bring him back. They lay in bed, foreheads pressed together, Eileen’s body curved into Sam’s. 
“I just,” Sam begins, twisting slightly so Eileen can read his lips, “I just miss him so much sometimes.” 
“I know,” Eileen answers. It’s all she needs to say. 
After a while, Sam gently wraps his fingers around Eileen’s wrist, partly for comfort, partly to grab her attention. “Dean’s baseball game is next weekend. Do we know yet if it’s going to conflict with Beth’s dance rehearsal?” 
“It shouldn’t,” Eileen answers, and with that, the normal routine of their life is reestablished. The grief is always present, but it’s part of the human condition. 
Castiel turns his eyes back to Heaven, where Dean waits for him. Despite it being Heaven, he insists on making repairs to Bobby’s house as well as the Roadhouse, even when Castiel reminds him, for the hundredth time, that if he truly wanted to, he could fix these imperfections with a thought. 
“Sometimes, you just have to do things the hard way,” he answers, through a mouthful of nails. 
Castiel rolls his eyes and goes to help him. 
---
The morning dawns, quiet and gentle. The dawn is silvery-gold as it stretches across the grass leading up to the cabin. In the distance, the birds start singing. Castiel can smell the fresh scents of spring, dew clinging to the grass, the clean, bright potential in the air. His toes stick out from underneath the comforter, but a quick flip of his foot flicks the corner of the blanket back into place. 
A warm, heavy arm winds over his waist. “Babe, it’s too early,” Dean mumbles into the nape of his neck. “Go back to sleep.” 
Castiel strokes over the back of Dean’s hand. The words are tempting, but something has woken him up, and now that it has, he wants to know what it is. He props himself up on his elbows, ignoring the chill of the air as it bites at his bare skin, and concentrates. After a second, he startles. 
“Dean,” he says. 
Though he doesn’t put urgency or fear into his voice, something about his tone makes Dean open his eyes, suddenly alert. Castiel looks at him, and Dean rolls over onto his side. After their time together, they’ve mastered the art of the wordless conversation, much to the chagrin of Charlie, Kevin, and anyone within ten miles of them, at least according to Jo. 
“It’s time?” Dean asks. He rolls closer to Castiel, stealing his warmth, as he trails his fingers over Castiel’s ribs. 
“Yes,” Castiel answers, taking Dean’s hand in his and pressing kisses to each of Dean’s fingertips. “Won’t be long now.” 
Dean’s fingers slide across his cheek before he curls his fingers around the bolt of Castiel’s jaw, pulling him down. Their lips meet in a chaste kiss which still manages to make fireworks explode in the pit of Castiel’s belly. He doesn’t think the thrill of kissing Dean will ever fade. Castiel doesn’t want it to. 
“I should get going,” Dean murmurs, rubbing against the bristles on Castiel’s cheek. “You want to come along?” 
Castiel relaxes back into the mattress, only reluctantly parting from Dean. “No, you go. I’ll be here when you get back.” 
“I know.” Dean slides out of bed, and Castiel takes a moment to appreciate the play of his muscles underneath fair skin. He lets out a small, disappointed noise when Dean slides into a pair of jeans and a jacket, causing Dean to roll his eyes at him over his shoulders. “Yeah, keep it in your pants. Definitely wearing clothes to this particular meeting.” 
“Shame,” Castiel murmurs, waggling his eyebrows. 
“Shameless,” Dean corrects, leaning over the mattress to kiss Castiel once more, short and sweet. “We’ll be back before too long.” Another kiss to Castiel’s forehead, and then Dean murmurs, “I love you,” into his hair. 
Castiel smiles. Much like kissing Dean, hearing those words will never grow old to him. He’ll revel in them, roll in the simple syllables, allow them to sink into him, with the simple truth that Jack tells him, that Charlie tells him, that Kelly tells him, that even Bobby and Ellen and Jo tell him. 
You are valued. You are loved. 
He smiles at Dean Winchester, this impossible, miracle of a man. “I love you too,” he replies. 
Dean out of the bedroom. The door to the cabin opens and closes. Castiel rolls over onto his back and stretches, staring up at the ceiling. 
There’s work to be done today. He’ll need to travel through Heaven, informing the various interested parties that Sam Winchester has arrived. There will be a party tonight at the Roadhouse, a celebration instead of mourning. Then he and Dean will get to show Sam their Heaven, will listen to Sam relate through his years. 
There is so much work to do. 
But they have time. They have all the time they need. 
---
“Life never ends when you are in it.”--Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters
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justcourttee · 3 years
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Adrien asks mari out and she says i would of been so happy in the past but now its too little to late. She's engaged to Damian but they haven't announced it yet
Bittersweet
It had been a while since Adrien had found himself in Gotham City. Too many years to count on his hand. Yet when he received an invite from Marinette he didn’t hesitate to hop on the next flight to attend her gala.
He had no idea that she had created a partnership with Wayne Enterprises, in fact, he had no idea they were interested in the fashion world at all. Then again, why should he be surprised? When Marinette put her mind to something, nothing would get in her way.
Ever since he had taken over his father’s company, Adrien hadn’t had much time to keep up with his old school friends but it hadn’t stopped them from trying to keep him in the loop. From what he could gather, Alya and Nino would also be attending, Rose and Juleka too. It would be nice to see them all again, especially Marinette.
Stepping out from the warmth of his hotel room and into the cool streets, Adrien couldn’t help but let his mind drift to thoughts of her.
It took Marinette moving to the States for him to realize how much he was in love with her. It was something he never wanted to admit seeing how much he adored Ladybug, but as she disappeared from his grasps, he was left to face his true feelings.
Glancing at his phone, Adrien confirmed that he was mere minutes away from the address she had listed. The gala was still a few days away, but Marinette asked if he had wanted to meet up for a late-night coffee, a Gotham specialty. Even her scarf that she had gifted him ages ago couldn’t hide the red on his cheeks as he imagined the perfect date with the girl of his dreams.
He paused, reaching the door of Deja Brew, his heart beating a million miles a minute. Somewhere in this late-night shop was his best friend. How would she react to seeing him again? Would she be as excited as he was? Would she feel the same way as she did?
Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door, his eyes glancing through the scattered exhausted customers until they landed on her. She still hadn’t noticed his presence, her nose buried into her sketchbook, her coffee still steaming beside her seemingly untouched.
She was early.
The thought almost drew a laugh as he approached the counter to place his order. Of course she would have finally picked up some time management skills by now. Marinette was 27 and slowly making a name for herself as the future of the fashion industry. That wasn’t something accomplished by constant tardiness.
He picked up his cup, placing a ten into the tip jar, the hostess’ raised eyebrows making him smile. He could already hear his father scolding him. After all, that wasn’t the way to becoming a billionaire. You only make money by holding onto it.
Honestly, Adrien didn’t understand why he had to be a billionaire. His father said it would raise the bar for their line, but it just wasn’t in Adrien’s heart to hoard all of the money unnecessarily. Maybe the Waynes offered Marinette the same advice. Maybe they had something they could relate to together.
“Excuse me ma’am, is this seat taken?”
His heart had finally slowed down but as her eyes slowly peeked up at him under her lashes, it immediately began somersaulting once more.
“Oh Gods, Adrien!” She was out of her seat before he even had the chance to set down his coffee, her arms flung around his neck. He hoped and prayed she couldn’t feel his chest threatening to explode. “You should have said something! I’ve gotten into the bad habit of zoning out in public places.”
Her smile was blinding as she unwound herself, slipping back into her seat, motioning for him to sit as well.
“How was the flight? Did you fly private or first class?”
Adrien gasped, his hand covering his chest as if she had shot him.
“I only flew business thank you very much.” Marinette’s look of mock disbelief earned a small chuckle.
“That must have been so hard for you. I really am sorry you went through so much trouble for my sake.”
“You know, I would go through so much more for you Marinette.”
Her smile faltered for a moment, so quick that if he hadn’t been staring so hard at her, he might have missed it. Did his statement make her uncomfortable? He had only meant it jokingly with the truth laced in, but he was sure his eyes gave him away. They always softened when it came to her.
Marinette cleared her voice, her true smile shining once more as if the falter never happened in the first place.
“You’ve missed so much, I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about from the beginning?” She nodded as she dove into her move to the States and how she began as an intern for the CEO, Tim Drake, years ago and slowly worked her way up to personal assistant.
She recounted how Tim found her sketchbook at work one day and showed it to his father. Together they agreed that she was their way into the fashion industry, an investment that could open the door to many more jobs for the Gotham citizens.
It took two years, but she finally had a full line that was presented at Bruce’s first fashion show.
“So many big names were there Adrien! I really thought I was gonna faint!”
His smile became softer and softer as she recounted meeting the rest of the Waynes and finally after six long years, she had made enough of a name for herself to be holding her own official Gala, the Wayne’s simply a sponsor.
“That’s amazing Marinette, you’re amazing.”
She beamed proudly, her smile pulling at his heart.
“I couldn’t have done it without them. They are genuine and kind people and they are pretty much family.” Something glistened in her eyes as she spoke of them. It could have been obvious to anyone, Marinette cared so deeply for these people.
It was Adrien’s turn to falter as an ugly thought passed.
She’s so comfortable here, she would never want to come back to Paris with me.
He was shocked with himself. This was no time for jealousy. His best friend, the love of his life, was excitedly telling him about a future she had built for herself and the only thing he could think was that it was an obstacle keeping her from him?
Adrien desperately wanted to smack his own forehead, but for Marinette’s sake he straightened out his smile instead.
“I’m so sorry. I’ve only been talking about myself! What’s new with you? How’s your dad’s business? Do you have anyone you’re seeing?”
His eyebrow raised at the last question. She asked the question he so desperately wanted to ask her. And she did it so casually, equating it to his work and social life. Did that mean she was also fishing for his response?
“Nothing much. Dad wants to move from a multi-million dollar business to a multi-billion dollar business so he’s been pretty aggressive about money lately. He didn’t even want me flying over here for the gala.”
Marinette snorted much to his amusement. She knew how his dad was and how petty he could be as well.
“And as for your last question,” he paused watching her face carefully. “No, I am not seeing anyone.”
He waited for the reaction, any reaction really. But none came. Instead, she simply nodded as if she expected as much. Maybe he had read into it too much. She really could’ve just been asking for the sake of catching up. Should he ask too? Was that what she was leading up to?
Adrien cleared his throat before taking a long draw from his cup. This was so nerve wracking. She looked so content, so grown. This was a Marinette who had grown leaps and bounds while he was still stuck in this high school romance that was quite possibly one-sided.
“Well, I hate to cut it short but it’s going to be a long day tomorrow and Damian will be here any moment to pick me up.”
She slid out of her seat so effortlessly, her sketch book snapping shut before it disappeared into a bag that he hadn’t even noticed. Her smile was just as warm as he remembered, but something was missing from the girl he loved.
“Your eyes.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Marinette’s smile faltered as she tentatively reached up to touch her eyelid, confusion etching it’s way into her face.
“Is there something near my eyes Adrien?”
“No, no, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-” Adrien bit his lip, trying to string his thoughts together before he sounded even more like an idiot. “You used to stare at me with such soft look. I’m sorry I never noticed, but once I did, it was all I could see. Yet now-”
He trailed off as her lips drew into an o, her hand moving slowly from her eye to her lips, trying to hide her shock.
“-now, I can still feel the love in them, love directed at me, but it’s not the same love is it?”
She looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the right words. He knew she was trying to explain that he was wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to lie. It was the only confirmation he needed.
He slid out of the booth, his hand grasping the scarf slipping from his neck.
“Marinette, I was so excited when you invited me out tonight. In fact, I thought of it as a date.” She tried to reach out, but Adrien took a step back, tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t blame you at all, please don’t think I’m saying all this to make you feel guilty. I just had to get it off my chest.”
Adrien blinked hard, trying to spill the tears clouding his vision. This was harder to say than he thought. Her eyes were so distracting, the sympathy oozing toward him in waves.
“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I know you’ve made your life here and I would never dream of taking that from you. Hell, if you asked me to, I would drop everything to be at your side in an instance. Is there any chance at all that after the gala ends, we could give this a shot? Just one real date. Not some deluded fantasy I created in my head, but something we both consent to.”
He flinched when her hand finally made contact with his upper arm.
“Adrien, I love you. I really do. But you were right when you said my eyes had changed. That soft look is meant for someone else now. He and I had tried to keep our relationship quiet, but tomorrow at the gala, I was going to announce my engagement to Damian.”
Adrien couldn’t help the small sob that left his mouth. He was painfully aware of the few scattered glances all directed toward him, but he couldn’t help it. He felt Marinette pulling his head down until it laid resting on her shoulder, her small arms wrapping around his figure. It was embarrassing how hard he cried, unable to hold back his sobs any longer.
“I’m so sorry Adrien, I had no idea your feelings had changed. You were always chasing after a dream when we were younger and when I left Paris, I had finally decided that there wasn’t a chance after all between us.”
He knew she meant her words as a comfort, a promise that at one point, she would have gladly accepted his offer. Why couldn’t he have seen it earlier? Why was he so blinded by a partner who never even revealed herself right to the end? He had someone who trusted and loved him with all of their being and he ignored their feelings for a what if.
Adrien slowly pulled himself from her grasp, his smile shaky. He took a moment to use the end of his scarf to dry his soaked face.
“I’m glad you told me that Marinette. I really am. And I hope you and Damian have a long and prosperous life together.”
Her eyes widened, her mouth forming the wait, but he was already out of the door, running. It was a cowards move, one he would mull over all night. But it was too painful to look into the eyes of one you love and only find pity reflecting in them.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
“So you came?”
Adrien turned, his smile bittersweet as he embraced Alya, his fist connecting with Nino’s outstretched hand.
“How could I not support her? She’s worked so hard to make this a reality. My feelings can take a backburner for one night.”Their eyes all trailed to the center of the room where she stood, her arm threaded through with the man he assumed to be Damian Wayne. “Besides, you can tell. She loves that man beside her more than anything in this world.”
The glint of the ring on her finger caused an aching in his heart. Despite it all, he really did wish the Wayne boy no ill will. If he was who Marinette chose to spend the rest of her life with, then Adrien trusted her decision.
“I’ve never seen her smile so bright. And to think, I used to believe her smile was at its maximum blindlingness.” Nino’s chuckle earned a small chuckle from Adrien as well.
There was no denying it.
Marinette was where she belonged. The only thing left was for him to support her in any way that he could. And that was exactly what he planned to do.
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andilovetowrite · 3 years
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Tough Love (Part 2)
Peter Parker x Enemy!Reader
Summary: Peter Parker and I have always had a tense relationship, but there was always a line that you wouldn’t pass. What happens when one day you do, and there are horrible repercussions? Will you and Peter make up, or will it be an endgame for you?
Warnings: A bit of angst, and fighting, but a lot of fluff in the end.
Here is the request it is based on!
Here is my Masterlist as well, in case you wanna check out my fanfics :)
Word Count: 1.7k
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“Are you really going to ignore me forever?”, you asked Peter, buckling up your seatbelt. It had been a week after your flight, and you two hadn’t said a word to each other. You had tried to apologize several times, but it was hard when Peter skipped school just to avoid you, and while training, he made sure to stay out of your radius.
So you didn’t really have a wide variety of ways to say sorry to him. There were no insults thrown at each other, no teasing and definitely no normal conversations. Even now, Peter just looked away, his jaw clenched shut at the question you asked. Sighing, you turned away, focusing on the floor rather than Nat’s questioning eyes. Everyone in the compound could see something had happened. Usually, your dad had to separate you two from biting each other’s heads off, with the rest of the team cheering either one on. But this week? It had been pitch silence at the compound.
You could pretend you didn’t care, but you did. A lot. When MJ had called you up after the fight, you had been a mess. And maybe, just maybe, it was because you wanted the conversation in the closet to go well. “Well” in a way that you finally told Peter you liked him, and hopefully, he reciprocated it. But the cards were definitely not in your favour, because the day ended with him storming out, and leaving a red-faced, teary-eyed mess behind.
“Okay team, here is how it’s going to go”, Tony said from the front of the jet, looking back at the 4 of us. “Nat and Steve, you two work on getting rid of all the guards inside the place, and I will patrol the outside. Once all the threats are taken out, Y/N and Peter can get in easily and retrieve the Hydra files. It should be easy enough-”
“No”, Peter muttered, looking up, his eyes dark. “I’ll stay with Steve. Nat can go with her”, he said, jerking his head towards you. You could feel your throat close up, as you took a deep breath, opting not to say anything. The entire jet went quiet, all the eyes on you. Not knowing what to say, you just nodded, not taking your eyes off the floor.
Instantly, Peter felt bad. He knew you were trying to make amends, but to what? Just so you could go back to fighting 24/7 every day? He didn’t want that, not in a billion years. So he just shut you down or ignored you anytime you spoke to him. It was better than getting his heart broken again anyway. But now looking at you, head down, biting your lip, he almost felt like reaching out to you, but the plane lurched forward, indicating you guys had landed.
“Alright team, let’s do this”, Tony said, looking hard at you. “And remember safety first. This isn’t a hard mission, so we can be in and out in 15 minutes”
At least that’s what he thought. When Steve and Peter went out to get rid of the soldiers, they were immediately outnumbered, by a lot. Calling in Nat, the four of them kept fighting, giving you a straight passageway to the secret room.
“Y/N, you alright sweetie?”, Tony asked, grunting as he got hit again. You said yes, ducking away from a guy’s view, pushing him out of a window with your powers.
“Yeah, no one is here”, you said, pushing your way into the room, the files just lying there on the table. “But it seems too easy-”, you began, but the minute you touched the paper, the room exploded.
Bright, hot heat clouded your vision as you were thrown back, your suit feeling like it was on fire. Trying to move away, the last thing you could remember was Peter’s voice in your ear, crying out as your eyes closed, giving in to the sticky darkness that swallowed you.
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“Y/Nnnnn”, you heard Tony’s voice call out to you, “c’mon, get up”. You could feel your eyes start to flicker open as a sharp pressure was applied to your head.
“Ugh”, you groaned, trying to dull the pounding ache in your head. Pushing your hands up, you couldn’t help but wince, a burning pinch travelling up your arm.
“Woah woah woah, relax little Stark”, Steve said, pushing you softly back down, “you have heavily burnt your hands. I would refrain from even lifting them up”
“Wha-”, you asked, looking at your dad. Tony sighed, telling Steve to go outside the room, as he came to stand next to you. You looked at him, still confused about what happened.
“Yo-you went to the main circuit and apparently, they anticipated it. Well...they anticipated Peter to be there instead of you. Some type of fiery air was released around you, which, based on Bruce’s experiment, showed that it would literally burn Peter from inside his suit.”, Tony stopped for a second, looking outside the door, “Um, since you weren’t wearing a suit, it didn’t have too much of a boiling effect, but it did cause some burns and severe blackouts-”
“How long was I out?”, you asked quietly, looking down at your arms, seeing the layers and layers of bandaging on them.
“About 2 days”, he said, looking at you closer. “Peter’s been out there the entire time, waiting for you to wake up” Tony chuckled, resting his hand on your shoulder. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told him to go home, but he just wouldn’t listen to me-”
“Where is he now?”, you asked, surprised he had stayed behind to see you. After your fight, you were so sure that the chances of making up(making out) with Peter were close to zero.
“He’s outsid-”
“Mr Stark, is she awake?”, a drowsy voice called out, as a disheveled Peter came inside the room, his eyes catching onto yours. “H-hey Y/N”, he mumbled, eyes wide as they scanned your body.
“So I’ll leave it to you then”, Tony said, backing away, but not before whispering something in Peter’s ear that made his entire face go pink. “I’ll be back in an hour, alright? Gotta go pick up Morgan from school” He waved you off, but you were too busy staring at Peter. Who, by the way, looked like a mess. His hair was sticking out in all places, his eyes were bloodshot, and clothes rumpled.
Yet, he still looked like your Peter. Hesitantly, he walked over, almost as if he was too scared to even come near you, but the moment he was close enough to hear you, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m so sorry”, you whispered. Peter’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.
“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who acted like a total dick!”, Peter exclaimed, and it was like a dam broke inside him, “y-you could’ve died Y/N! Why did I-”
“Peter, I’m fine, okay?”, you said, wanting badly to put your hand on his shoulder, but you couldn’t even do that. “And I’m sorry for what I said to you last week- i-it wasn’t right, and I didn’t even mean it-”
Suddenly, you were cut off, because Peter’s lips were on yours, kissing you as if his life depended on it. You froze for a second, but as he began to pull away, you surged forward, kissing him back.
You could’ve stayed that way forever, in the dim light of the hospital room, kissing your enemy(crush), but you both needed oxygen to live. Pulling back slightly, you kept your forehead on Peter’s, looking into his brown eyes, as his looked into yours.
“I-I needed to do that”, Peter whispered, and you understood. “With you almost dying, I couldn’t just-”
“I know”, you said back, smiling at him slightly.
“I’m in love with you Y/N”, Peter confessed, glancing briefly at you, but blushing down in embarrassment. Not responding for a couple seconds, he took it the wrong way, as he backed up, eyes starting to brim up with tears.
You were so shocked, you didn’t even realize that he was almost out of the room. Tyring to speak as loud as possible, you piped up, “If you leave now, you aren’t gonna be here to hear my declaration of love Pete”
Peter stopped, his hand on the doornob. “What?”
You smiled, staring at the familiar mop of curls. “Yeah, and if I start speaking as you go out, then Cap might think it’s for him, and that’s an awkward conversation waiting to happen”
“Wha- declaration of what?”, Peter asked, baffled.
Grinning at the dopey smile of his, you chuckled. “I like you too Peter. Hell, I love you”
Peter walked closer, “Wait, you aren’t just saying that out of pity right?”
You rolled your eyes, trying to sit up, “When have I ever done something out of pity Parker?”
“Never”, Peter replied, a smile taking over his features. He came and sat next to you, and as suddenly as he kissed you earlier, he did so again, this time whispering so close to your mouth, and so quietly, you weren’t sure if you even heard him. “We were literally at each other’s throats a week ago, and now-”
“We’re making out”, you said, smirking, “but do you want to change that? I’m sure I can find someone as equally crazy as you to make out with”
Peter shook his head, laughing. “Not at all...plus, as tough as it is loving you”, he said, giving you a chaste peck, “it’s well worth it”
“Mhm, tough love”, you agreed, smiling at your brown haired boy.
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Wow! Loved writing this, and even though it took a long time to update, I hope you enjoyed this, and I can't wait to write my next one :)
Ps. If you have the time, check out Season 2 of Never Have I Ever, on Netflix. It's awsome!
Taglist: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @a–1–1–3 @hayhays
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My name is 01001010 01001011 (Alien!Jungkook! x Human!Reader)
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Summary: “So you’re a human?” The alien that looked and acted like a human asked. The only difference between him and you was that he had two upside down triangles starting from his jaw going down under his shirt. Also, he was huge. “I’m talking 8 foot tall” huge.
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Warning: Daddy kink, Dirty talk, size kink, cunt slapping, Jungkook being rlly big, fingering, nipple sucking (?), Dom/sub themes, and Jungkook being a curious alien.
Genre: Fluff, Smut
Word Count: 6.3k
Pairing: Jungkook x Reader
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COVID-19 vs Human kind. Human kind was pretty much fucked. In front of your eyes, the world population went from a staggering 8 billion people to an exponentially low 1 million. Within two years. It was in October 2020, when scientist realized that instead of working on a vaccine, they needed to discover a place where those free from this deadly disease could live. Safely and peacefully.
Then, the people of Jubal, stepped in, and it was pure chaos. You still remember the day, 14thof December 2020. Everywhere; social media platforms, billboards, NASA’s speech, everything revolved around the message they sent us. They wanted to help us. Surprisingly, we knew nothing about them, but they knew everything about us. From our appearance to our food, cultures, languages, and what not. It low key creeped you out, not going to lie.
Nonetheless, we began building the transport link through their help and finally, one year later (pretty much the brink of our extinction), we were on our way to a new life.
Honestly, you had imagined them to look like- or well, to not look like how they looked. You’d expected Pokémons, or weird looking octopus, or even insects. But they looked just like you, expect they were way bigger in size.
After half a month or so, you had started to get used to the atmosphere. Almost similar to Earth, there were two sides to this planet, a much hotter plane, where the temperature never went below 104 Fahrenheit. You remember going there when you first arrived here, and oh god, you hated it. The temperature was too high for you; they didn’t know what ice cream was (how can they not know! You thought they knew everything, yet they’re unaware about one of the most popular desserts on Earth), you absolutely hated sweating and no amount of air conditioning could stop it, and the beach just looked out of place. The sand wasn’t the usual pale brown shade, instead it was just the color of the ocean itself – it adapted to the shade of the flowing water into a green-blue hue. Weird. Also, there was one sun in the morning, and three in the evening, gradually coming as the hours passed by.  
You had also noticed that all of them ate food at the same temperature. Nothing was cold like ice, or hot like a fresh pizza. The concept was new to them, and when you asked for the water to be cold at the first restaurant you went to – the waiter just looked lost. The poor soul, he was told to make the humans feel at home, so when he realized he couldn’t do what you asked to, you just felt really bad. Still, it was funny that a seven-foot tall man was scared of you being uncomfortable. It was cute, honestly.
Also, almost similar to Earth, the two places had different types of Jubals living there. The sunny side had more tan skinned people, with bright, blond hair and bright eyes. Whereas, the cold plane Jubals had fairer skin, darker hair and doe eyes. The one similarity being – they were huge as fuck. The average height was around seven foot for men, and around six foot for females. So, standing at a 5 foot 2 inches (almost three inches I swear!), you felt tiny (and intimidated sometimes, but you weren’t going to admit that.
After finalizing that you definitely didn’t want to live in the hotter part of the planet, you moved to Corellia, it was cold there but not in the way you expected it to be. In the morning, it was perfectly fine, the cold breeze was nothing short of comfortable, but as the evening came, it started to get cold to the point where you couldn’t bear to go outside after 6 PM. Sometimes, you think you might have underestimated the cold here at night, because the two beautiful moons brought such intense cold that you wouldn’t dare go out at night. They gifted you a cozy one bed apartment with a really good heating system, which you appreciated. Also, you had never been so glad that you brought the microwave from Earth, without it, you didn’t know what you would do.
Ever since you moved, you had pretty much been lonely, because of the lack of contact with humans. Most of them preferred to live in the hotter state, wanting to get tanned - and to fuck the surfer Jubal hotties. You still remember parting with your sister and her ranting about this Jubal she met who was so “dreamy” and “good at surfing”.
As usual, you were just trying to get used to the food here, thankfully, they had a smaller section of “human,” food that mostly consisted of cup noodles, vegetables, chicken and chocolates. Getting groceries was intimidating at first (honestly, it kind of still is), because everyone and everything was so large, and everyone just kept staring at you. You still haven’t interacted with a Jubal on your own, it’s not like you were scared – you were – but also you didn’t really know how to go up to one. Until now, the only two Jubals you’ve met were the grocery store cashier and the landlord. Sigh.
You were so happy when you saw the new addition of real, organic milk in the grocery aisle! Thank god you got a break from that horrid almond milk. It was just water pretending to be milk honestly, and whenever you poured it in your cereal, it felt like drowning them in water, yuck. But, as much as you could try, you just would not reach the goddamn shelf. Why did these Jubals have to be so tall! Why couldn’t they just make this aisle according to human size!
You heard someone shuffle behind, but paid no heed until you heard laughter burst and immediately looked back to see one of them laughing so hard, his body shook.
“You- you’re so tiny!” He barely managed to get that sentence out of him, since he couldn’t stop his outburst.  
Of course, you were offended.
“I’m actually not! You all are way too big!” You didn’t really know how to respond, because this was just so sudden.
“Hm, I don’t think so, you’re smaller than average earthlings. But it’s okay, because it’s adorable,” so, you were really surprised when you felt him behind you, reach up to the milk shelf and grab a container of it. Of course, being the dumb idiot you were, you suddenly turned around and had to face him again. You hadn’t noticed his physical features before, but now that you did. Holy shit.
He was tall (I know, it’s obvious by now), and had such, clear, fair skin. Two upside down triangles were on each side of his jaw and went down, disappearing under his coat. He looked at you with such doe, curious eyes, almost as if he was entertained by your mere presence.
“Here you go,” he handed you the container of milk – while still being really close (not that you minded it). Despite the irritatingly bright fluorescent store lighting, his hair shined, and looked so soft.
And after that, he just followed you around the store, and you honestly didn’t really know what to do.
“You know, I’ve been trying to find a human since a month now, but I’ve heard most of them moved to the Southern part. You should’ve done that too, because Corellia is too cold for you. You’re a little slow,”
And you’re a little piece of shit.
“But now I found you. You’re really adorable, the books didn’t tell me that. Ever since humankind moved here, I’ve been really studying Earth. Did you guys really had pink leaved trees? And forests? It must be so cool for so many trees to be in one place. I also really want to meet a lion,”
“You can’t just meet a lion,” you chuckled, he was weird, but somehow, it wasn’t awkward around him. He radiated this warm energy that you hadn’t seen in the Jubal people around you, and it was comforting, made you want to stay by his side – even if it meant answering his dumb questions.
“I can, you can’t. It would eat you, because you’re bite sized for it,” he continued to comment on your petite stature, and the worst part is that you couldn’t even defend yourself, especially when he kept towering over you.
“Hey! Stop making fun of me,” you tried to push him but the basket was too heavy for you, so you ended up just… awkwardly not being able to do it. Suddenly his – huge – hand swoops in and carries the heavy grocery basket as if it was nothing.
“You should’ve told me it was too heavy for you,” he sounded almost as if he was scolding you, and coo-ing at you at the same time. His eyebrows bunched up in frustration as he mumbled something along the lines of ‘how can I protect you if you won’t tell me what you need,’ but you couldn’t really make out what he said.
You were just pulled out of your thoughts when you heard him put something in your basket. Something that the Jubals ate, not humans.
Should I ask him to leave? No, that’s way too rude. Then, should I ask him why he’s following me?
“This is delicious, you should try it,” He spoke while continuing to look around the store, and put random items in your basket. There was a variation of their fruits (this one had a gradient of yellow and orange, with huge spikes coming out from the top), cans with God-knows-what inside (the one he put in your basket had cherry colored pentagons on it, and a juice bottle that contained neon green juice. You were not looking forward to drinking that.
“I don’t even know how to make all of this. What if I can’t eat it?” You were scared of most of these food items, you got sick easily, and didn’t know how to cope if you fell sick here. Without the medicines, you’d probably die.
“I’ll cook it for you if you want to,” He looked at you and smiled, “I know humans are fragile, so don’t worry, I made sure to get the ones which would be safe for you,” he said, while petting your hair, and smiling. You instantly fell in love with it, it wasn’t like the way he laughed at you earlier, but somehow, it was far more beautiful. His eyes crunched up into half-moons, cheeks being bunched up, he almost looked like the small bunny you had as a pet when you were younger. So. Cute.
“But I don’t even know your name, why would you do this for me?” You really were curious, why was a Jubal so interested in humans? So far, most of them have just maintained a distance from you.
“Because I want to keep you,” he looked at you, and the duality of his presence made you shiver. The small bunny smile morphed into a more serious face, his already dark brown eyes, turned into a slightly darker shade, giving you the chills.
“You can’t keep me,” you didn’t know how to fight this argument, you almost wanted to laugh and act as if you thought it was a joke, but you weren’t an idiot – and nor was he.
“I know, I can’t find the Earth word for it, I want to be with you, is what I mean,” he mumbled as he tried to find something in the cereal aisle.
The grocery trip was actually not as weird as you’d expect it to be. While you both didn’t know anything about each other, not even names (not that Jubals had actual names, they just talked through their minds?)
And as soon as you reached the cashier, before you could even take out your money, he nod, and paid the bill.
“Hey! I can pay for myself, you don’t have to do this!”  
Honestly, you didn’t really know what to say after he said, “I’m paying, now be a good baby and stand still,” where did he even learn to speak like that?
It was starting to get cold now, and after you exited the heated mall, it was visible that you shivered every time the cold brushed up against your figure. You should’ve worn the third sweater, sigh.
“So you’re really a human?” He said, as he carried your groceries and followed you, on your way to the apartment.
“Yeah, I’m Y/N,”
“How can you be a Y/N? You just said you were a human,” He asked, really confused. Were you pranking him? He learnt in (one of his many books about humans) that humans liked to prank each other for entertainment. He found the idea amusing, but right now he couldn’t decide whether you were pranking or joking.
He didn’t understand the difference between pranking and joking, either.
“I-  What? No, I mean I am a human, but my name is Y/N,” you were definitely amused at his seriousness, yet you couldn’t help but be intimidated by his tall figure. Also, you felt bad that he was holding all the groceries, so you decided to grab one of the bags from him.
“Y/N!” He stopped dead in his tracks after your fingers brushed against his, “I just remembered you can’t bear the cold after 6pm, so you have to wear many clothes to protect yourself. You’re already so cold,” he felt your hand, and his was so warm and felt right, intertwined in your hand. His hand was so huge, that it enveloped yours easily, and you could really notice the size difference now. 
He quickly transferred all the grocery bags into his left hand, and continued to give you his coat, and held your hand again, and it felt… nice. The fact that he smelled so good, helped too, you couldn’t exactly put your finger on it, but it was really comforting. 
You were quite used to the stares you got on the streets from other Jubals, and always thought that they would go away, but it’s been two weeks, yet they still continue to look at you up and down, so you finally asked him. You still didn’t know his name, and didn’t know whether you should ask him or not, was it insulting?
“Why does everyone keep staring at me?”
“Because you’re so cute,”
What. It was almost like you forgot how to breathe. How could he say that all of a sudden, out of the blue? Also, you actually could not breathe, because while he had long legs that lasted for days, you had much smaller legs and it was starting to get hard to keep up.
“Hey! Could you walk-” you took in a breath, wow, your stamina was really, uh, shitty, “could you walk a little slow?”
He looked back at you, and tilted his head almost as to ask ‘why?’, but understood quickly. Then, he flashed one of his cute smiles, again, the smile that did things to your heart that you hadn’t felt before.
“Do you want me to carry you?” He also had read previously that humans can get really tired, and sometimes not even have the strength to move on. Especially females, they were more fragile, and he could physically see that too, because you were just so small. The average height was supposed to be 5’4 or even 5’6 for human females around your age, but you seemed smaller than that. But you also didn’t seem to be a child because those under the age 18 were always with their parents right? He had almost started to doubt those textbooks he bought on humans.
“No, I can walk myself,” You tried to defend yourself, and started to mentally curse as to why you asked him to slow down.
You finally reached your apartment door. Honestly, you had thought that he would stop following you after you reached the apartment building… but he just continued to bring the groceries in.
Should you invite him in? Did you even clean your living space? You probably had your underwear lying all over the place, since now you lived alone and had no fear of someone else coming in your private space.
“Can I come in?”
Well, you didn’t want to say no to him, he’s been really nice so far, and you had to admit, picking up groceries was really hard to do, and you weren’t exactly physically active enough to carry all those bags that he easily carried in one hand.
He then walked himself to the door after putting the groceries in the kitchen. What really surprised you was how he looked back at you, not how he looked before. Before, he looked with warmth, and now. Now, he almost towered at you, reminding how much power he really has over you. He looked at your lips, and then back at your eyes and tilted his head.
“W-well, it was really nice to meet you,” you said trying to break the tension and to distract yourself from the obviously gorgeous man.
“I hope to see your cute face again soon,” he smiled one of his bunny smiles again, and kissed you on the cheek before disappearing under the stairs.
You curled yourself up in your blanket, and tried to sleep, but that Jubal kept intruding your thoughts. 
Would you get to see him again?
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The next time you saw the cute Jubal from the grocery store was next week Saturday. On Earth, entertainment was in the form of movies, arcades and concerts. Similarly, here too, people had a theatre – instead of a movie on a projector, it was shown in 3D form, almost like a live performance, expect there were holographic figures.
You looked around, and by now you had taken into account that Jubal people weren’t afraid to show off their skin – even though it was crazy cold here, their bigger bodies could compensate by giving them more body heat. Unfortunately, your smaller stature couldn’t provide you with the same amount of heat and you always had to bundle up in three or even four layers to keep yourself from freezing or catching a cold.
You were watching a really heated up scene, and it was getting kind of… uncomfortable. While others were simply watching casually, as if it was nothing out of the ordinary, you kept shuffling in your seat – so it was a pleasant surprise when you felt someone cover your eyes from behind you.
“Wha-” instinctively, you looked behind, and it was the same boy (or man?), from the grocery store.
“Hey,” again, you waved at him, almost as a form of habit, and he looked at you as if you did something quite weird. Without any questions, he tried to imitate you, but he was really stiff so you couldn’t help but let you a laugh.
“I know I didn’t introduce myself much better last time, but we don’t really have names. Still, I decided to get one for myself, because once I get a human, she should be able to call me something,”
Did he… did he mean that you were his human?
“Well, what did you settle for?”
“My name is 01001010 01001011. I thought it was really similar to the ones that humans have. Do you like it?” He asked with a proud grin, as his face lit up.
You tried to keep your laughter in, you really did but you when it did come out, you felt like wanting to die. His face crumpled up almost as if he was ashamed of his name as he increased the distance between the two of you.
Nice one, Y/N, you made the only person who cared enough for you sad.
“Hey, look, it’s a nice name, it’s just not very human-like,” you explained to him.
“It’s the binary code for a human name,”
Because of the constant conversation you both were immersed in, the Jubals beside you were starting to get annoyed – and while they didn’t say anything, probably because they didn’t want you to feel bad (you still did, for trying to ruin their experience for this live-movie thing), you decided to head out with him.
As you both walked in one of the main parks situated in the middle of Corellia state, he settled on a spot in the corner of the massive area.
“Would you like to give me a name?” he looked at your face with such intensity, that you couldn’t help but feel insecure and want to cover your face.
“Well, what did those binary numbers represent?” you really did want to help his get a name, after all, he was your first friend here.
“I want to be called JK, but my friends told me it was a ridiculous human name, because no one was named JK before. So I settled for its binary number. They approved of that,” his eyes shone of much when he talked about it, his long lashes were uprightly curved and you couldn’t help but swoon.
You fiddled with your sweater as you gave him suggestions, but none seemed to suit him.
“Jake? No,” you were starting to get frustrated at this, “Hm, maybe Jacob?” you shook your head again, unsatisfied.
He just simply continued to laugh at you being so serious, occasionally playing with hair and pressing a finger to your soft cheeks. When he commented on you being soft, you couldn’t help but blush (and when he compared you to one their red fruits, you couldn’t help but blush harder (you denied it, obviously)).
“Jungkook!” you remember reading that word in one of the books you had in high school literature.
“Jungkook? Do you like it, baby?” He played with your cheeks with happiness, he was happy that you were no longer frustrated or angry. Finally satisfied and happy. Of course, you blushed at the word of endearment, but didn’t tell him to not say it.
Oh. Well, after that, he just continued to ask you about humans, and more specifically about you. You were amused by most of his questions,
“What is sarcasm?”
“Why do you like pizza so much, when it’s detrimental for your health? You shouldn’t eat it, I’ll make good food for you,”
“How do you make stereotypes?”
“Why do people get cosmetic surgery?”
And each one of them seemed normal for a Jubal to ask until,
“Why do humans like cuddling?”  
At this point, you were quite tired, but still thought it would rude to ask him out, because he seemed really curious, every question coming right after you answer the last one.
“I guess, we just like to be touchy and close,” you said and you tried to suppress a yawn, but it just slipped.
“What was that? Was that a sigh? Or a yawn? Are you tired? That was so cute, do it again,”
“Just a little tired,” you said as you rested you head on his shoulder without realizing to do so. It was also getting really cold; the second moon had started to show up.
You both got up, and the walk back home was really pleasant. He kept cracking jokes and dancing on the pavement. You tried to imitate his dance, but your flow wasn’t as steady as his. How could someone dance so good like this, yet not be able to wave correctly? Your fingers intertwined again, and you leaned more into his body this time. You could barely reach his mid chest, that’s how tall he was. But somehow, you didn’t mind it because you both fit so perfectly – as if two parts of one puzzle.
As you reached the door of your apartment door again, you felt Deja-vu. He looked at your face, studying it carefully and looking back at your eyes, however instead of just looking at your lips this time, he leaned closer and looked back at you – almost as if asking for permission to kiss you. You nodded, and wow.
As his lips drew closer to yours, you could feel him cupping your face with both hands, one of them gradually descending to the back of your head as it found its place in your hair. They were incredibly soft, and almost overpowered you, because you didn’t expect this. As he slid his tongue and slowed himself, you found yourself wanting more, leaning towards him.
Before realizing that you needed to breathe, you started to choke, as he pulled himself back, and chuckled before saying, “Baby girl, take it slow, I’m all yours.”
“Want more,” is all you can say before leaning towards him, wanting to kiss him again. But unlucky for you, he just moved back before laughing again, and this time you pouted and slightly punched his chest.
“Now, you’re just being a brat, baby, you’ll get what I’ll give you, understand?” You could feel his breath fanning your face, and his eyes were no longer twinkling like they did, but instead were full of lust and an animalistic hunger.
‘’Jungkook, please,” you had never really been serious with boys in your high school, and so, this was the first time you had actually felt something down there. It was almost like someone – or Jungkook – lit a fire in your core, and you couldn’t help but just want more.
Fumbling hands opened the door to the apartment and you both tumbled in, messily but both of you didn’t care as you headed to your bedroom. On the way, he messily kissed your neck that made your knees buckle in a way that even walking was difficult.
He tossed you gently on your bed, that was way too big for the apartment, and ran his fingers through your hair, to you neck, and to your chest. He attacked your neck again, and started to form a pattern with his tongue as he pressed harder on some areas and trailed lighter on others.
You couldn’t help but let a whine escape your mouth when he left your neck unattended to take off your sweaters and cardigans till you were only in your undergarments and a see-through white dress.
“Fuck, baby girl, you’re so beautiful,” he said as he attacked your lips again, this time being harsher with his movements, as his tongue slipped in your mouth, doing wonders to his body.
“J-Jungkook, please,” you felt so much, so sudden, and even in this cold, the heat was too much for you – the heat inside you wanted to escape, but you didn’t know how to ask him.
“Yes, baby? Tell me what you want,” his amused voice made it obvious as to what you wanted, but still he continued to tease you, torment you, put you on the edge, “Tell daddy what you want,”
You took in a gasp as he unbuckled your bra strap from behind, free-ing your breasts, and the very next second, tore your fragile dress.
“Hm, tell me baby girl,” he asked you once again, as he took in one of you nipples in his mouth, his tongue encircling your bud, as one of his hands pinched the other one.
“Jungkook I-” you gasped as you felt a slap on your clit, it wasn’t that harsh because he was being careful, and you were still in your panties – but it just turned you on more.
“Baby, you have to call me Daddy, do you understand?” he said as his free wrist kept putting pressure on the top of you panties, making you want to rip them off, so you could finally feel him where you wanted to.
“Yes,” you said, and whined after he took off his mouth from your nipple to look at you, and after a second you understood what you had to say, “Yes Daddy, I understand,”
“Such a good girl for me, so pretty,” he said as he kissed your cheek, and you just couldn’t stop blushing. He was so harsh, yet so gentle at the same time – and it made your head spin.
“Now, be a good baby, and tell Daddy what you want him to do to you,” he said as he neared your ear, “does baby want daddy to wreck her pussy?”
You couldn’t help but shiver before speaking, “I want Daddy to make me feel good,”
His fingers slowly trailed your body, making you moan and buckle your body up towards him. You looked at him, his ears tinged red, and his eyes were darker than before, he almost looked like a fallen angel. He chuckled, looking at you seem so helpless, so fragile.
You were so soft, so ethereal, like an angel from the sky and he was there to taint you, to make you his.
He teased you by playing with the band of your underwear, he put two fingers in your mouth and you instantly slicked them with your saliva, making obscene noises that blended in with your moans. Then he trailed those two fingers right above your covered clit, and you couldn’t help but buckle up again, wanting those two fingers inside of you.
“Be patient, princess,” and it felt like an eternity as he circled his tongue in your belly button and it so, so, so slowly trailed down and down, and he finally took off your panties with his teeth.
“So wet, baby, you’re making a mess,” he commented as he rubbed you with one finger, and using the other one to encircle your hole. He pushed it a little inside, easily as your slick helped him, before looking back at you to see if you were comfortable, and when he got the green light, he continued to push it entirely in, “Such a good baby for me, think you can handle Daddy’s cock?”
You nodded in exasperation, his finger was long and hit all the right spots, but you needed more. He added another finger, while rubbing your clit with more pressure and making circle patterns with his tongue below your belly button. You were so near, so so near, you just needed that one push off the edge.
“Well, you’re going to have to work for Daddy’s cock, baby, think you can take this monster?” He took out his finger with a pop, as soon as he felt you clench down on his finger.
“Daddy, f-fuck me, please,” you moaned, missing his touch. He looked just as a mess as you were, panting and taking off his shirt. You continued to admire his body, he didn’t look buff like gym rats, but instead he had a lean, slightly muscular body.
He continued to tease you by biting his lip and taking off his boxers extremely slowly. You whimpered when his cock was free against his stomach, and it was bigger than any you’ve been before while watching porn. It was even bigger than the dildo your friend bought as a joke for your birthday present, and you had started to doubt if he would fit inside of you.
“Suck Daddy if you want to cum, princess,” he groaned as he pumped himself a couple of times before you put your mouth on his head.
Not having any experience before, you didn’t really know how to start, but you gave little kitten licks at his head, and then took it in your heated mouth. He didn’t taste how you had imagined, instead it was more like a salted caramel toffee you had, it was delicious and you wanted more. You continued to take more, and more of him and suddenly gagged because you couldn’t take anymore – only to realize you had only taken half his dick in your mouth.
“Can’t handle more? I guess you’re too small for Daddy’s big cock, huh?”
The thought of his not fucking you was almost terrifying at this point and you continued to let your throat loose and tale more of him, until you felt his cock twitch, which made you moan. Tears spilled out as he fucked your throat, fast and hard. 
“Such a good, pretty baby for daddy, taking my cock so good, princess,” he groaned before pushing in it a couple of times and taking it out.
“Such a naughty baby, making Daddy almost cum,” he kissed you again, tasting his own cum, before dipping down again, “you need to be punished, huh?”
“Daddy, please t-touch me,” you whined, grabbing his hand and putting it in between your thighs, and surprisingly he slapped your inner thigh.
“Being such a bratty baby now, I guess I do need to punish you, you don’t deserve Daddy’s fingers,” he said trailing again lightly all over body, but stopping as soon as he neared where you needed him the most, “touch yourself,”
You were dumbfounded, but when you saw his serious look, you shyly dipped your finger into your heat, and circled them around, but even after two fingers, it just wasn’t enough. You wanted more, you needed more.
“Daddy, please, I c-can’t, I need you,” you cried out while rubbing yourself between your legs, filled with your slick.
“Such a needy princess, always demanded Daddy,” he tsked before adding two fingers inside you, and as you gasped, “but Daddy adores you, so he’ll help his pretty little baby,”
You moaned, not holding back, as he pumped those fingers, and let his tongue work magic on your clit. He continuously pumped his fingers back and forth, while torturing your bud and the heat inside of you kept growing and before you realized it, “Jungkook, I’m going to cum!”
“Cum on my fingers, baby, go on,” his movements became more faster and you trembled under gaze, and unconsciously arched your back before letting yourself loose. It felt like heaven.
Even after this, you had been surprised to see that he didn’t stop and the stimulation was too much for you, as you tried to get away from him, but he held you in place, his wrist holding your pelvic in place.
Despite your whimpering and moans, he took his mouth to your perked up nipple again, and scissored his fingers, to prepare you for his cock. Then, he looked at you, cupped you face and kissed you again, this time more soft, as if you were a china doll, going to break at any given moment.
After letting his dick sit on your bud, he slowly let the head of his cock find your entrance and pushed it slightly. You let out a cry, he was too big for you, but he shushed you and pressed against your lips again before letting it enter little by little. You quickly grab his upper arm and clench it, the pain and pleasure were starting to combine again and you nodded, letting him know that it was okay to continue.
The raw emotion in his eyes was enough to let you go on, and when you were finally full, you looked down only to find you could only take half of him, he was just too big for you.
“Baby, fuck, you’re too tiny, can’t even take all of me,” he groaned before moving slowly, and then finally setting a pace that was safe, but unsatisfactory for you.
“J-Jungkook, f-fas-ter please,” you whined as he started becoming harsher, and his finger started abusing your bud again, and you couldn’t help but realize you were close again. This time, it felt more intense, more powerful.
He was so big, that you could feel him everywhere, it almost felt like he was ripping you apart, but the pleasure was almost overwhelming and the way his cock filled you up made you insatiable – you just wanted more, and more. You could feel your walls being pushed everything he buckled inside you, but he just did it so right.
“Baby, you’re so cute, gonna cum for Daddy?” he kissed your nipple and trailed up to your lips before diving a tongue into your moaning mouth. You nodded, and felt your second release come near.
“J-Jungkook, you feel so good,” you moaned as your walls clenched around his cock, and finally you gushed out, and trembled as you rode your orgasm. Simultaneously, he too, slammed his hips a couple times before cumming deep into you. As he took himself out, cum poured out of you, and he chuckled before taking it and spreading it over your face. Globs of cum covered your red cheeks and entered your mouth.
“You look so pretty with my cum on you face, keep it there until tomorrow morning,” he kissed your nose and coo-ed when you squirmed in embarrassment.
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You could feel tugging and pulling when you felt someone wake you up and instinctively, you said, “Just five more minutes.”
“But you said that the last time,” Jungkook looked at you, his breathe fanning your face.
Too close, too close, too close. You looked at other way and tried to close your eyes.
“You’re so cute, like a small puppy,” he coo-ed at you, making your stomach feel things you’ve never felt before.
“I- I’m not like a puppy!” You tried to fight back in your sleep, but couldn’t help the blush forming on your cheeks and ears.
You could feel the dried up cum on your face, and wanted to wash it off, but feeling too sore to move.
“Can’t move, princess? Was Daddy’s cock too much for you, last night?” he coo-ed at you, mumbling about how cute you were, and how he wanted to baby you and make you his.
“I’m too sore, Kookie,” you whined into the pillow and were taken by surprise when he lifted you and carried you to the tub.
“It’s okay, I’ll take care of my little human baby girl,” he said as he laid you in the lukewarm water and washed your body softly.
CLICK HERE FOR PART TWO
You were starting to feel more at home, even more than when you were at Earth.
A/N: That’s a wrap! Hope you like it. Go to master link for more!
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annewritesfic · 3 years
Note
how about kate trying to pretend they don’t have feelings for eva during cheer practice and chess teasing her about it. maybe at eva finally confessing to kate?
There were few things Kate hated more than cheer practice. As far as she was concerned, there were billions of better ways to spend every afternoon after school, like getting a tooth pulled at the dentist or going for a walk in the rain in socks.
But unfortunately for them, Chess (for some reason completely beyond Kate) actually enjoyed cheer, and she was both Kate’s best friend and her ride home from school, so four days a week, after school, Kate found themself in the gym, tuning out Riley’s endless chatter and daydreaming about going home.
Equally unfortunately for them, this year the Tigers had a new teammate, a transfer from West High with a cheer scholarship, an interest in climatology, and a pride pin on her backpack.
After their very first practice, on the drive home, Kate had made the mistake of commenting to Chess that Eva was kind of cute, and now Chess would not shut up about the crush she was so sure Kate had on Eva.
(She was a little bit right.)
(Just a little.)
(She didn’t need to know that, though.)
And it definitely didn’t help that Eva was actually super funny and really cool and that somehow, she’d been the first friend Kate had made since Chess in first grade. It didn’t help that the two of them had started texting regularly, had been doing math homework together, or that Kate had already lent Eva her copy of their favorite book, which she normally coveted and jealously guarded like a dragon with a very pathetic hoard of one slightly battered paperback copy of Last Night at the Telegraph Club.
All of these things had served two purposes: making Kate like Eva even more, and making Chess even more insufferable about it.
However, they had not served the purpose of making Kate enjoy cheer practice any more.
“Why the cheer team?” she asked as Chess moved textbooks and notebooks between her backpack and her locker. “You realize Giles Corey has a gymnastics team, right?”
“You realize I don’t want to join the school’s gymnastics team, right?” Chess asked, mimicking Kate’s tone. “Cheer is perfectly fine. And it’s more of a team sport than gymnastics is, I like that.”
“I don’t.”
“Kate, you didn’t have to join,” Chess reminded her. They’d had this conversation too many times to count, and by now it was more light-hearted than anything.
“Neither did you.” Kate closed Chess’s locker for her. “Maybe you should’ve joined the chess club.”
“That is literally the worst joke I’ve heard about my name yet.”
“Was not!” Kate protested as they started down the stairs.
“Was too.”
“It was not. And the chess club would be way more fun than the walking migraine that is Riley Williams.”
“You would hate chess. Have you ever even played?”
“Well…”
“And I don’t think I’ve ever actually seen you sit still longer than five minutes.”
“Hey! I can totally sit still!”
Chess raised a skeptical eyebrow as they reached the bottom of the stairs. Kate stuck her tongue out at her as she passed, and caught a glimpse of her (affectionate) eye roll.
“Look, I know you don’t hate cheer nearly as much as you say you do,” Chess told them as they walked down the hallway to the locker room. “It’s fun!”
“It is about as fun as drowning.”
“And I know you don’t hate the team that much,” Chess continued.
“Don’t,” Kate groaned.
“Especially not Eva,” she added with a mischievous wink that made Kate reevaluate their entire friendship of over a decade.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she told her.
“So you do hate Eva?”
Kate hesitated.
“You think she’s as annoying as everyone else on the squad?” Chess pressed, grinning. “D’you think she’s a walking migraine?”
“Okay, there’s literally nobody on Earth as annoying as Riley,” Kate pointed out. “I don’t even hate Annleigh as much as I hate Riley.”
“Fair, but you’re dodging the question.” Chess pulled open the locker room door. “D’you hate Eva?”
“Does who hate me?” asked a voice inside the locker room. Kate’s stomach flipped upside down, and she seriously considered abandoning Chess in the middle of the woods to fend for herself.
“Oh, Kate was just complaining about all the things she hates about cheer practice,” Chess explained easily.
“In character for you,” Eva said with a smile that made Kate’s brain pause for a moment. There was probably a little gray loading circle floating above their head. “Am I on that very extensive list?”
“Um…” Kate hesitated, then shook it off, trying to act normal. “No.” They shot Chess a glare. “Chess is on thin fucking ice at the moment, though.”
“Hey!”
Eva laughed, sitting on the bench to lace up her sneakers. “Chess, what did you do?”
Shit.
“Um. She’s just… on my nerves?” Kate said quickly, before Chess could answer. “Anyways, have you been reading the book I lent you?”
Eva’s eyes lit up. “I’m just about at the epilogue! It’s so good, I see why you love it.”
“Isn’t it?” Kate breathed a sigh of relief at managing to turn the conversation away from her crush on Eva, and thanked whatever god was out there that Chess let them talk about the book, rather than continuing to press - although Kate was seriously not a fan of the expression on her face.
Once Eva finished tying her shoes, she left the room for the gym with a smile and a “See you in a few minutes!” Kate smiled back at her, but the smile quickly switched to a frown as soon as the door was shut.
“Seriously?” she asked Chess. “Seriously?”
“What?”
“If you want me to get a girlfriend, you are not going to do that by telling a girl about how I hate everything about cheer, which is her hobby and which she actually likes doing, and asking me if I hate her in front of her.”
“Hey, I’m doing my best here. It’d be easier if you would admit the fact that you do, in fact, want her to be your girlfriend.”
“Admit it to you? Are you joking?”
Chess grinned at Kate, and they silently cursed the fact that Chess knew her more than well enough to know they weren’t really that mad at her. “Just trust me, I mostly know what I’m doing.”
“I’m starting to think you don’t actually want me to get a girlfriend, you just want to embarrass me,” Kate grumbled.
“I embarrass you because I love you.”
“Doesn’t feel like love.”
“It’s tough love.”
“Is all your love tough love?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re the worst.”
Chess laughed and reached to ruffle Kate’s hair. “C’mon, let’s get going. Faster we go, the sooner we’re done.”
“Or we could just not go,” Kate muttered, but she followed her through the door anyway, just like she always did.
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gds-fanfic-blog · 3 years
Text
(I wrote this at school, using This writing prompt)
3. The sun is so much brighter when viewed as you drift through space.
The Last Golden Gift [FNAFtale]
So many years have passed since we were freed from the underground by the human. I have seen the sun “for the first time” over…. I’ve…. Huh. I’ve lost count. There were timelines before this, the human has proceeded. Some, where they had freed us…. Others…..? Not so pleasant. I have witnessed dustspread and bloodshed like no other has, except for the human. This is the longest pacifist timeline I have seen… So far at least. There goes my pessimistic mindset again…. I wish I could trust Frisk more, but they have killed me so many times….
At least they let us have the sun for this long this time. But the price we paid for it was immense. There were so many murders… So many lives lost just so we could stay on the surface. So we could keep the golden glow worth so much more than what it was all taken for granted for. You don’t know how much something is worth till it’s taken from you… And you don’t know how much you’re willing to sacrifice in order to keep it once you finally get it back. ‘How much did you sacrifice for the sun?’ That’s a question that we animatronics and monsters get. We get it a lot. The humans that had hurt us… They have long since died. But we won in the end, we still remain despite their efforts, and we have peace. The price for it? Well, when we escaped, the population we had was over three hundred fifty billion people… In over a few years the number went down to only a little under seven million…. The number kept getting lower each day, the mass murders were so bad….
But that price….? Was it worth it? Well, I don’t want the dead to think their sacrifice has been taken for granted… When we had already lost it once. Thanks to them, I am a person once again. They died, and their murders were labeled as ‘property damage’ in court, while I, and many others get to live free. Free and unafraid. For the first time in millions of years, we get to have our golden light in peace. After The Era of Depression, The Era of Ecstasy, and now The Space era. We’ve lost so many people over the years… Humans don’t live that long… Only one-hundred years, and that’s if they’re lucky. While those of us that are left…. Are still here…. I’ve seen so many humans be born, live, then die… Many of my friends didn’t wish to see more of their friend’s families die… So I lost those friends as well…. I’m just glad that there’s now a new king in heaven… They now have a place beyond the stars.
It’s been over twenty-eight billion years. The sun remains still, but not for long. I have seen many a star die during this time. Each death, more spectacular than the last. The sun lasted much longer than we all had expected, but the time was welcomed. We all had evacuated earth a long time ago. Taking our homes we didn’t want destroyed, and the patches of earth we wanted to take to our new homes. I personally took a patch of earth from my favorite spot in the underground, the two graves that belong to my human family. My father that built me, and the body of my sister that was laid down to rest. I didn’t want to leave them behind… Many of my people did the same. Not wanting to lose the people we loved yet again. Others left the bodies. Their destruction being their final way of rest. My father and sister are both now, long since turned to dust. But it’s still nice to have graves to go to and mourn.
I look to the sun from the ship we are floating in. The sun shines for a few more moments through the windows. Giving us their final riches of beautiful gold. A goodbye gift in a way. The gods and goddesses of our beautiful star have grown tired, and weak. It’s time for them to rest. We are the first to watch the immortal grow old. In the final moments of the life of our small solar system, we all watch the sun one last time.
I feel a tug at my leg, and hear a small, beautiful voice. “Great Grandpa…? Is the sun really dying….?”
Down at my leg, my great granddaughter looks up at me, with tears forming in her eyes. Oil starts to well in my own, as I give my answer.
“Yes… The sun’s dying kiddo… Ra has grown tired…. Along with Sol, Helios, Arinna, Surya, Huitzilopochtli, Inti, Kinich Ahau, Lugh, Mithra, and so many others… They may be the gods of the sun… But the sun wasn’t supposed to last…. At least…. We’re getting a chance to say goodbye to it…. And to them… Right, Arpina?”
She thinks for a moment, as my grandson and her father, Nebula, picks her up. She looks at me, upset, but with a look of understanding. “I guess so… Still…. It’s gonna be hard to say goodbye…. Both to the sun, and our god friends….”
Nebula holds her close, trying to comfort her. He pets her gently, making my tiny great grandcub purr. She nuzzles his paw, wiping some of her tears in the process. My daughter, Stellaursa, clings to my husband, Fell. She may be built to her full size, and so is her son Nebula…. But, they are still cubs at heart… Or soul in our case. “Papas….? I’m gonna miss the sun…. I’m gonna miss the earth….. I already miss all of my friends….. Why must we all live through so much loss….?”
I gently nuzzle her. Wiping her tears with my face, trying to give her some comfort. “It’ll be ok…. Most of the gods aren’t dying…. Just going to sleep…. They’ll wake up again some day…. As for the ones that are dying… It’s time for them to rest…. It’d be selfish of us to want them to stay…. But also understandable….. This is just how it is…..”
‘This is just how it is….’ That’s something I used to say all the time…. When we would get beaten in the streets… When I would have to explain to humans passing by why I wouldn’t step in to save my own daughter from bullies, till the royal guard showed up…. When I had to explain to Satan himself why many of the damned kept asking him if they made it to heaven, because there was a greater hell on earth…. I hated saying that. But, heh, this is…. Just how it is….
I hear my brother, Springbonnie walking over with their family. He spoke loudly, but calmly. “HELLO BROTHER! NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN….. WAITING FOR THE FINAL MOMENTS OF THE SUN, FREDBEAR?”
His partner Funtime Foxy stands near him, wearing unusually casual clothes. Next to Spring, on the other side of him was his daughter, Funtinnie. With her, is her Wife Wendy Wolf, and their child Bexy. I smile at them, but I am unable to hide the pain in my face. “Yeah…. Just like everyone else….”
We all stand at the window, watching and waiting for the end. I start to hum a melody, to pass what seems to be an endless amount of time. My husband follows my tune, then my brother, his partner, my daughter, my niece, then their cubs as well. The humming is heard by other passengers of the ship we are on. The song spreads through the ship. We hum for hours, before we begin to sing. “Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy~
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry~
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely~
Sunshine almost always makes me high~
If I had a day that I could give you~
I'd give to you the day just like today~
If I had a song that I could sing for you~
I'd sing a song to make you feel this way~
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy~
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry~
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely~
Sunshine almost always makes me high~
If I had a tale that I could tell youI'd tell a tale sure to make you smile~
If I had a wish that I could wish for you~
I'd make a wish for sunshine for all the while~
Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy~
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry~
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely~
Sunshine almost all the time makes me high~”
We didn’t even notice how close the sun was before- BOOM!!! ….The sun shone it’s brightest, for the very last time. A supernova…. With tears streaming down our faces, we sang one last time. “........Sunshine almost always~”
The sun was the brightest it had ever been…. The sun was so much brighter now that we were drifting in space, as it gave it’s last show…. It’s very last golden gift… Then the sun was no more.
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fantastic-bby · 3 years
Text
Han Jisung's Crappy Guide: Surfing Into Hearts (Teaser)
Teaser details
Pairing: (F)Reader x Jisung
Word count: 1.7k
Genre: College AU | Surfer!Jisung
Summary: Jisung has a very questionable guide in trying to win hearts, one of the issues with it is that it only consists of really bad flirting and telling people he's a hot surfer. The other issue with it is that he's never actually put it into play because he's always waiting until he feels that special spark with someone...
Warnings: -
Publish date of full fic: 8th August
Overall word count: 22.4k
Full fic genre: Fluff | Romance | Slice of life | Strangers to Lovers | Surfer!Jisung | Surfer|Reader | College AU
Full fic warnings: Brief physical fighting | Mentions of getting high | Jisung has what I think is the equivalent of an obsessed fan
Masterlist | Full Fic | AO3 Link
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…Han Jisung: sought out by the entire campus, has a very questionable guide in stealing and breaking hearts. It honestly consists of being really bad at flirting and telling people he's a hot surfer. With the entire campus essentially wrapped around his pinky, Jisung could have anyone he wanted. The only problem is that he also has the only person on campus he refuses to sleep with again coming after him.
“Uh oh, Hyemi incoming.” Hyunjin mimics the whistle of a bomb falling from the sky before making a ‘pwoosh’ sound with his mouth just as the dreaded person approaches their table. Jisung can feel his entire being wanting to shrivel up into a ball and disappear just as she opens her mouth.
“Hey Jisung,” Hyemi greets with her ever so sickeningly sweet voice. She pushes her long brown hair over her shoulder, the other resting on her hip as she completely ignores the other two that are at the same table as Jisung. “It’s already Autumn.”
“Is it?” Minho gasps, fauxing surprise, “and here I thought it was still Spring. Thank you so much for reminding me, Hyemi.” If sarcasm had a physical form, it would be pouring out of his mouth and pooling on the white wooden table, but Hyemi completely ignores him.
“It means that the Autumn Night Fair is back. How about you and I go and check it out? Have something to eat, play some games, ride the ferris wheel,” she hums.
“Not interested,” Jisung says simply. “I’m already going with my friends and we’ve already invited Yeji and her friends to come along, so… that’s already a whole group.”
“Oh come on, you can make room for one more,” Hyemi persists.
Jisung lets out a small sigh as he stands up, adjusting the strap of his bag onto his shoulder with one hand and picking up the food tray with the other. “I’m not interested,” he repeats. “I’ve already told you, it’s not going to work out. Stop trying.” Jisung walks past her, leaving Minho and Hyunjin to pick up their stuff as well.
“Sorry, Hyemi,” Minho chuckles as the two leave the table to follow Jisung. Hyunjin and Minho catch up to him only after he’s pushed through the glass door of the cafeteria and is already making his way to the entrance of the Student Union building.
“HanJi, wait up!” Hyunjin calls, making Jisung stop to turn around. His face is straight and honestly, he looks bored. Jisung’s had his fill of having students fawn over him to the point where he doesn’t even care anymore—Hyemi is no exception. She’s been trying for three years and Jisung’s gotten so tired of her that he’s blocked all of her contacts to stop her from trying to message him.
“Christ, she really won’t take no for an answer huh?” Minho chuckles as they start walking together.
“I thought that sleeping with her and ghosting her would work because there really wasn’t any other way, but I guess even that doesn’t work,” Jisung sighs. As shitty as it sounds, Jisung only sleeps and ghosts people as a last resort. He's actually only done it once… with Hyemi. “I don’t understand why she still tries. It’s like everywhere I go, she’s there and she’s trying to crawl through the damn zipper of my pants.”
Hyunjin and Minho exchange a sympathetic look. They know just how hard he’s tried to get her off of him and they also know that it’s gotten to the point where Jisung doesn’t even care anymore. Every time she approaches him, he either ignores her or just walks away.
“When was the last time you even dated someone?” Hyunjin asks, looking at Jisung curiously.
“High school,” Minho answers for him and Jisung nods as clarification. “Ji hasn’t had a proper relationship since high school.”
“I haven’t had a connection with anyone yet,” Jisung says while shrugging. The funny thing about Jisung is that he’s totally willing to sleep with anyone, but he hasn’t actually found someone he’s properly had ‘The Connection’ with yet, and Jisung sticks by only getting into a proper, committed, and serious relationship only if he feels ‘The Connection’ with.
“He basically has commitment issues and no one’s been able to push through them. He didn't even like his ex that much, he just dated her because he wanted the 'experience'.” Jisung smacks Minho on the arm and it makes the older man laugh.
“I do not have commitment issues,” Jisung argues.
“Sure, okay,” Minho rolls his eyes. “So, that time you freaked out because your ex confessed that she actually liked you isn’t enough to prove that you’re not ready for a committed relationship?”
“Doesn’t mean I have issues!”
“Mhm, whatever you say, Hannie,” Minho chuckles. They both turn to Hyunjin when he becomes strangely quiet only to see him on his phone.
"Uhm, turn back around,” Hyunjin blurts out right before he turns around and runs straight back into the cafeteria, leaving Minho and Jisung watching in confusion. They follow the designer and when they’re inside of the cafeteria, there’s a crowd gathered around Yeji and Hyemi.
“You’re fucking crazy!” Yeji hisses as she pulls her wet white shirt away from her torso to stop it from sticking. “I didn’t even do anything to you!”
“What the fuck?!” Hyunjin exclaims as he grabs onto Hyemi’s hand that still has the plastic cup grasped.
“Oh my god,” Minho groans.
“I’ll handle it,” Jisung mutters as he hands his backpack to Minho before taking his jacket off. He pushes through the crowd until he reaches Yeji and lays the jacket over her shoulders, “come on.” They’re both certain that if looks could kill, Yeji would have daggers sticking out of her torso from Hyemi’s glare. Jisung decides against saying anything to Hyemi and, instead, guides Yeji towards the cafeteria doors with Minho and Hyunjin following.
“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks once they’ve pushed past the doors.
“I’m fine,” she huffs. “Good thing Lia texted you. I’m pretty sure she would’ve hit me for just being friends with you.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Jisung sighs while taking his bag back from Minho.
“Nothing to apologise for,” Yeji shakes her head with a reassuring look on her face, “it’s not your fault. You’ve already turned her down about… I don’t know, a billion times? She’s the one who chooses her actions, not you.”
“I still feel kinda guilty since, you know…”
“Ji, it’s nothing to worry about—I promise,” Yeji flashes him a small smile. “If anything, have you seen Ryujin angry? She isn’t the MMA vice president for nothing, you know.”
The sound of the cafeteria doors being pushed open followed by Lia’s, “wait up!” Makes the four of them stop and turn around to see Lia and Chaeryeong chasing after them.
“Gosh, I can’t believe she did that just because you’re friends with Jisung,” Chaeryeong huffs when they start walking once again.
“I’m not even dating you—it’s getting tiring,” Yeji mutters, hands wrapping the front of Jisung’s jacket around herself tighter. “I shouldn’t have worn white today, huh?”
“It’s okay, we’ll accompany you to your dorm,” Lia reassures her while linking her arm around Yeji’s elbow. “It’s not like we have any classes after this.”
“Mhm!” Chaeryeong hums as she links onto Yeji’s other elbow.
“Where is Ryujin anyway?” Hyunjin asks when he notices the lack of the group’s most prominent presence. Shin Ryujin, vice president of the MMA club is also one of the better known students on campus. She’s more known for just being outright chaotic as well as her habit of standing up for her friends.
"Committee meeting with Felix," Lia answers.
“Thanks for the jacket,” Yeji turns around once they’re out of the Student Union building. “I’ll pass it to Hyunjin later.”
“It’s fine,” Jisung smiles. “Just take care. If anything happens, text Hyunjin and we’ll send Felix to beat her up or something.”
“We’ll be fine,” she shakes her head with laughter before bidding the guys goodbye and leaving in the direction of her dorm building. Jisung feels a bitter feeling in his chest as he watches Yeji walk.
As much as his friends tell him that he’s not responsible for anything that Hyemi does to them, he can’t help but always feel guilty whenever something happens. It’s been this constant cycle where he goes from thinking of dating her for the sake of protecting his friends or just ignoring her until he graduates.
There’s a few things that actually stops Jisung from dating her. 1. She’s crazy. 2. He’s been turning her down since their first year. 3. She splashed water on Yeji for being friends with him. Jisung has a feeling that if he ever did date her, then he wouldn’t have been able to actually hang out with his friends anymore.
“Are you surfing today?” Hyunjin turns to Minho.
“Most likely,” he nods. “Jisung?”
“Hmm?”
“Surfing today?” Minho asks.
“Yeah, but I’m stopping by Felix’s place later. He has one of my sunglasses,” Jisung says.
“I need to check on Kkami, so I’ll see you guys at the beach,” Hyunjin waves at them before heading in the same direction that Yeji, Lia and Chaeryeong went—making Minho and Jisung wonder why he didn’t just follow them before since he and Yeji live in the same building. Everyone wonders how Hyunjin manages to house a dog in his on-campus dorm, but he’s always just said not to worry and that Kkami isn’t that loud.
Minho and Jisung bid their goodbyes before Minho walks in the opposite direction of Hyunjin to head to his dorm and Jisung heads to the campus gates. His house is only a few minutes walk from campus which bodes well for him since he doesn’t need to move away from his family. He keeps himself preoccupied with trying to detangle his white earphones while he walks, hands pulling and tugging at the white wire until he accidentally bumps into someone.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he apologises. Jisung’s slightly surprised when he’s faced with a student he’s never seen before.
“It’s fine, I think we were both a bit busy,” you chuckle as you lift your own tangled earphones.
“O-Oh yeah,” Jisung laughs awkwardly. Before he can even ask who you are, you’ve already started walking past him. He watches as you do. You’re definitely new.
The campus isn’t too big that you wouldn't know anyone outside of your circle, but it’s small enough that you can recognise all of the students at least by face or voice. However, Jisung’s never seen you before, nor has he ever heard your voice before; which leaves him wondering as he turns back around and continues his walk to the gates.
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aliwritesfic · 3 years
Text
The Night Shift Part 9 (F!Reader x Frankie Morales)
Summary: Your first night at Frankies, yearning mostly . . . no hanky panky! (yet 👀)
Warnings: Talk of abuse, talk of death of loved ones
W/C: 2.2k
Spotify
Part 1 Part 10
Frankie was buzzing with adrenaline as he drove you and Manny back to the restaurant. His hand hurt slightly, but he couldn’t stop think about how damn goodit felt to punch Kurt in the face, how when he heard the fear in your voice, everything turned red. How it took everything not to crush the vermin under his boot. But, he would unpack those feelings later, preferably over a case of beer with the boys. They, of all people, would understand.
You got out of the truck to say goodbye to Manny, and Frankie didn’t miss how you rubbed your lower back, how even from where he sat, he could see the ring of a bruise blossoming around your wrist.
“Sorry that took so long,” you said, climbing back into the truck. Frankie glanced at the clock on the dash – barely five minutes had passed. “Are you completely sure it’s okay I stay with you?”
“I want you to stay,” Frankie said. “Please, don’t get it in your head that you’re an inconvenience. I know you well enough by now to see that’s exactly where you’re heading.”
You laughed weakly. “I hate that you’re right,” you said, “I’m just not used to having extra help.” Frankie nodded, and waited for you to continue. “For a second in there, before you and Manny came in . . .I was terrified. I forgot I wasn’t alone and I – thank you, for what you did in there. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come in when you did.”
You slumped back in your seat and closed your eyes.
“I think this whole thing got rid of my hangover, though,” you joked.
“You’re young enough that you can bounce back quickly from hangovers,” Frankie said, taking the obvious hint for a change in the subject.
“Please, you’re barely older than me,” you said. “You’re like, what? Thirty?”
“Thirty-two,” Frankie corrected.
“Oh my apologies, you’re ancient,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Frankie grinned and shook his head. It amazed him how easily you could still make a joke, despite everything you had been through today alone.
It was almost sunset when he pulled up to his home. Golden light splayed across your features, making you glow. Stunning. The thought was in Frankie’s mind before he could stop it. You turned to smile at him.
“Nice gnomes,” you said gesturing to the dozens of gnomes of varying sizes that were scattered around Frankie’s front garden. He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced.
“Thanks. My Abuelo used to give me one every Christmas, right up until he died last year.”
“I’m sorry,” you said your voice sincere, “I know how hard that is.”
Frankie shrugged, not wanting to talk about how after his Abuelo died, he made himself sick with grief. Instead, he chose to share something happier. “He used to hide things in them, since they’re all hollow. Sometimes it would be candy, or money. Once he hid my first iPod in one.”
“Sounds like he was a cool dude,” you said and Frankie nodded.
“He was the coolest,” Frankie agreed.
You were quiet for a few moments, holding your arms across your chest. The toll of the day was written plainly on your face, weariness lending itself to the dark circles under your eyes, to the way your shoulders curled inwards. Without thinking about it, Frankie wrapped his arms around you. You leant into the hug, burying your face into his neck. He rubbed your back gently, careful to avoid the spot he knew you were still hurting. You stood like that for a while, warmth leeching into him, and when you finally pulled away, you were almost quick enough to hide your damp eyes.
“Wanna go in?” Frankie asked, already feeling colder without you. He wanted to tug you back, hold you to him and not let go. You nodded, still not looking directly at him.
Inside, the house was cool and dark. Frankie tugged his cap off and placed it on a hook by the door, running a hand through his curls to fluff them up. He was suddenly more self-conscious than he had ever been before. He very rarely brought women back here, and when he did, he never liked them as much as he liked you.
He tried to imagine what you were thinking – were you grossed out at his unwashed breakfast plate sitting in the sink? Was the number of photos of family and friends that hung up on the walls and sat framed on every surface excessive? He didn’t remember seeing any photos like that at your apartment. But then, he also hadn’t been looking.
“It’s uh, not much,” he said rubbing the back of his neck.
“It suits you,” you said. Was it a compliment? Frankie wasn’t sure, until you continued. “Like, at first, it seems a little understated, but the more I look the more I see how you it all is.” You wandered over to a shelf stuffed with books and records, most of them coming from his old room at his parents when they had cleaned out their home a few years back.
“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being nosy,” you said, tilting your head to read the spines. Most of the books were well loved classics – stuff that Frankie had read over and over until the covers became loose and pages began to fall out.
“Just don’t search the drawers in my bedroom, that’s where I keep all my vintage Playboys and a spare bag of mushrooms.”
You snorted with laughter and turned to face him properly. Your eyes were still puffy and red, but no longer teary. Frankie counted that as a victory. “You always struck me as more of an acid guy. Just like you’re striking me as a fan of Thai food?”
“Big fan, actually.”
“Excellent, I know this great place that delivers, I’ll pay.” When Frankie opens his mouth to protest, you hold a hand up silencing him. “Please, let me pay. I owe you big time for doing this, all of this, for me.”
Frankie eventually conceded, sensing that you were infinitely more stubborn than him. Thai food was ordered and delivered, the scent of the panang curry made Frankie’s mouth water. You sat across from him at the table, eyeing him. It took a few moment for Frankie to realise you had put one of his albums on – Erykah Badu, he quickly identified.
“Can I ask you something?” you said after swallowing a mouthful of pad Thai.
“Anything,” he said. Just don’t ask me how long I’ve wanted to fuck you.
“What’d you mean today, when you said it’s not my fault?”
Frankie wasn’t expecting that. “Well, all that stuff Kurt did – like trying to kill himself, that’s not your fault.” You shrugged, clearly unconvinced, so Frankie ploughed on. “It’s just a form of emotional manipulation. Do you remember Benny, the guy your friend went home with last night? His sister, Eve, kind of went through something similar. Her partner would threaten to hurt himself and her if she tried to leave. It wasn’t until she ended up in hospital that she told Benny and Will what was happening.”
You looked horrified. “Is she okay?”
Frankie made a wavering motion in the air with his hand. “Some – most days are better than others. She moved to Portland, met a really nice lady, they’re getting married in the summer.”
“Good for her,” you murmured.
“But like I said, it’s not your fault. None of it is. He’s the one to blame, if he tries anything. He’s in control of his actions, you aren’t.” Frankie’s voice was firm, and he refused to look away from you as he spoke. He needed, more than anything, for you to understand that.
The next few hours passed quietly, sitting next to each other on his worn couch, Netflix half forgotten while you drifted in and out of sleep. Eventually, when the sky turned from black to grey to pink, Frankie showed you the spare room and gave you some privacy, knowing you probably needed some time to yourself after the gruelling day. He knew that sometimes all a person needed was some time alone to process. He sat on the couch and pulled a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket.
Andi, the waitress, had given him her number, followed by three x’s and a winky face. Once, Frankie would have opened his messenger app and texted her, asking her out. But now. . . he found he wasn’t at all interested. He crumpled the paper and threw it in the trash.
~*~
How long is too long to spend in someone else’s shower? Five minutes? Ten? Until the hot water runs out? Vanilla and honey body wash? Oh, shit that smells delicious.
You kept your thoughts light, avoiding the darkness that brewed in the forefront of your mind. You felt like you were going through a billion crisis’s, so instead of focusing on any, you decided to focus on none.
You thought back to Frankie’s intense gaze as he spoke to you at dinner, how incredibly sexy it had been. You were shocked you could think something like that after the day you’d had, but the thoughts had entered unwelcome into your mind. You tucked them away for later, when you weren’t so close to him and wouldn’t feel burning shame if you looked at him.
Stepping out of the shower, you took a deep breath and decided to truly inspect the . . . damage that was done today. Your wrist was already bruising and ached slightly when you thought too much about it. You faced your back to the mirror and twisted, grimacing at the sight of the damage Kurt had caused. Your lower back, like your wrist, was bruised black and purple. You quickly wrapped a towel around yourself, hiding the damage.
Deep breath, Spud, you’re stronger than you think.
Your grandfathers voice echoed in your ears. It was what he would say to you whenever you were hurt – just fallen out of a tree and fractured your ankle, sliced your finger open cutting onions, sobbing because the boy you had convinced yourself was your soulmate at fifteen just dumped you the day after you lost your virginity to him, it was always your grandfathers voice saying those words. Your heart ached with missing him.
The room Frankie had showed you was more of a home gym with a bed shoved into the corner than anything else. There was still a scattering of things that were undeniably Frankie in the room: a pile of old boots with holes in the canvas, a greasy looking toolbox, a poster for the Brooklyn Nets with players that looked like they had wandered out of the 90s. You didn’t know much about basketball but decided to at least keep an eye on when the Nets lost so you could rag on Frankie about it.
You grabbed your bags, assessing what Manny had grabbed. God, he’s good, you thought, realising he had packed you everything you needed. You dressed and grabbed your phone, breathing a sigh of relief when it was free of messages from Kurt. You typed out a quick message to Manny.
You are truly the most amazing friend anyone can ask for <3 thanks for packing my stuff.
Then, after a few moments, you sent one to Sara.
I broke up with Kurt, should I be sadder about it?
It was 7 in the morning, but within a minute your phone was buzzing with a call from her.
“Tell me you’re not lying to me,” her voice was hushed. You could hear her moving, a door clicking shut.
“I’m not lying. It’s done.” You laid back on the bed and closed your eyes. “It was a fucking nightmare to do though.”
“Spill, what happened? Are you okay?” Sara’s voice was louder now. You gave her the rundown of everything that had happened, from the lunchtime confession to the actual breakup to how you were now sleeping in Frankie’s spare room.
“Wait – Frankie? Benny’s friend?”
“Are you still with Benny?” This was different: Sara had a policy of one night only – anything more and she claimed they’d fall in love with her.
“Of course, he has a massive dick. But back to you missy, you’re staying with Frankie?”
You sighed. “Yeah, just until I get the keys to my new place.”
“Are you gonna fuck him?” Sara sounded hopeful.
“Oh, my god! No!”
“Aw, c’mon, rebound sex is good for the soul.”
“Maybe with strangers in seedy bars who have half a chance of giving me the clap. Not with someone I-”
“-Have a huge thing for. Please, I saw it the moment you spotted him at fight night. You’re so hung up on this guy and Benny says-”
“This conversation is over, it’s my bedtime. I love you and you’re wrong.” You hung up quickly, cheeks burning with the lie. Did you want to have sex with Frankie? Desperately. At the most inappropriate of times, like when you heard the rumble of his voice through the window at work, like when you caught a glimpse of his beautiful, unique side profile, like when you were alone and allowed your thoughts to wander to what could be under his jeans.
You sighed, frustrated with yourself and rolled onto your side. If you were braver, more sure that his attraction matched yours, you would have gone to his room, crawled into bed beside him, let whatever was meant to be, be. But right now, you weren’t brave. You felt like you had used up all your courage quota for the year in a single day, which was a ridiculous sentiment.
So instead of going to Frankie’s room, like the pulsing in your underwear desperately wanted you to, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep.
Taglist: @hnt-escape @sharkbait77 @1800-fight-me @annathewitch @darnitdraco @frankiecatfish @punkerthanpascal @nakhudanyx @gracie7209 @quica-quica-quica @pintsizemama @phoenix-of-loki
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