#Usually “get affairs in order’ is what I’m used to hearing someone say when writing their wills …ㅇㅅㅇ

[theworld-accordingtocasey]

"It means a lot to me to have a home-cooked meal," you counter. "No matter what, I'm sure it will taste delicious." 

I’m thinking now have I’ve not eaten anything of substance (as in, not bug stew 😖) other than ramen noodles for a while now, except the morning I tried to jump Ty..

"Our arrangement is less than conventional," he says, clearing his throat. "In some ways we're lucky to have each other, in others . . . well. Like most partnerships outside the Dome's ours is driven by necessity. And . . ."

Yes??? 👀👂🏾

You glance up, catching the bob in his throat as he finishes swallowing whatever he was about to say. "Let's eat, shall we? Hopefully this is edible."

OH CMON DONT JUST LEAVE ME HANGING!! 😩

"Right," he says with a sigh. "But what about being loved?"

🥺 cue my waterworks …

"Why imagine something impossible," you say, finally meeting his gaze.

Poor me :c

"Whether you like it or not, your existence is a potential spark for change. Your genetics aren't an anomaly, I believe they were deliberately developed and implanted within the Imperial bloodline to change the outcome of designated rule."

( ͡☉ ͜ʖ ͡☉ )

"If you followed in the footsteps of your grandmother and produced the next generation of heirs, you would be doing so with the ability to introduce the Nostradomina strain as a baseline for any future offspring,” he explains. “Your mother understood that if the elders found this out, you would be summarily executed.” 

(ʘ ͟ʖ ʘ)

So… this is the secret in the summary I reckon •_•

"So that's what you really care about." You pull your hand back. "If you think I have anything to share that I haven't under torture than no, you are right. I do not think this pack is capable of being worthy of me." 

Whatever tears you've shed run dry, again. Best not to spend another moment being seduced into complacency by a man with a pretty voice and careful words.

No lie fr I fell for it too and forgot who tf the crackpot unhinged paranoiac conspiracy theorist I am! :( he duped both me’s…..

"I think we need each other for survival," you say. "I am grateful that we can align on mutual interests. But please don't mistake me for someone who believes you would ever put my needs over those of this pack's or Taeyong’s. As long as we understand that, we don't need to pretend.”

The cold shock of how easily I (me-me, not y/n-me) drank the Kool-Aid, even after sending an ask saying how I have a hard time believing they really care, is freezing lol

Like he didn’t even try to convince me that he wasn’t trying to finesse me! Wow…”I’m truly sorry” ARE YOU??? Snake-rabbit…

Graves in this conflict were euphemistic: when you died there was no one to write home for you or carry your dogtags back, you were just a number on a screen for some scum who paid enough for the Millitech commission and maybe gave you a meal if they shot enough promotional footage to pay for it.

Like a…last meal on death row? 😳

The stories that had come out of his Academy days painted him as unforgiving in hand-to-hand combat, enacting punishments on Alphas who tested him based on his smaller size.

GOOD FOR HIM! 🌹👏🏾

"Private, you can either apologize for attempting to hit a superior officer or be gang-planked well before we reach port."

GANGPLANKED?!!

BITCHHHHHHH 👏🏾👹

"I will throw you off this ship personally if I see your face or those of your compatriots, do you understand me?"

the solution to his problem had been there from the start. 

??????👀??????what problem?

". . . Including my own death."

WHAT!???

"Mercy?" Yuta says. "That suicide note is a writ of execution to be carried out by whoever sent her here."

Oh…😮‍💨fuck I thought it was his own note or something…phew— not that me having a suicide note is good either but I’d feel worse if it was Ty, he’s too wholesome…

Chile let me just go back and read that scene from the top now that I know I misinterpreted it lol 😅

🔄

*Ok. Now I see how my eyes somehow skipped the ___ in the name..see fellas, this is why it’s good to read slowly👻

"...𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠�� 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑."

Wait so I’m suicidal again?? is this the thing I mentioned at the end of my talk with Doyoung? Or it could also be me trying to get the head honchos off our asses so I can integrate into the pack and they won’t look for me? (Idk if this would stop em but it’d be worth a hypothetical try if that’s what is happening here…)

"Mercy?" Yuta says. "That suicide note is a writ of execution to be carried out by whoever sent her here.”

SHUT UP YUTA

-also yes dy is sooo right, like wtf would I give you any information that could compromise us when you’ve alr massively fucked up before declaring you’re leaving AND aren’t even the least bit sorry about what happened? Boy bye

Tap tap tap. Thunk thunk thunk. Tap tap tap.

Me, ever suspicious: is that L.O.L ? Are they mocking this chaotic mess???

Also me: I should look up Morse code before I say that bUT WHY ELSE WOULD THEY BE LAUGHING

Update: poor attempt at trying to figure out my bad interpretation i thought “s.o.s”? But then that’s not funny so there’s not a reason to laugh at that…am puzzled

a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 17: chivalry

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate’s clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [0: prologue] [1: escape, again] [2: lost and found] [3: returned] [4: bound] [5: home] [6: gift] [7: reunion] [8: security] [9: secret] [10: prisoner] [11: gambit] [12: haze] [13: shock] [14: feral] [15: release] [16: acceptance]

wc: 5k

chapter warnings:  none except mild xenophobia, racism (one use of an anti-japanese slur)

recommended listening: STREAM FACT CHECK BY 127 (in all seriousness, though, Misty is my favorite of the new b-sides and works well for this)

Doyoung's insistence that you move into his shared executive suite with Taeyong proves to be a challenge. For one, Taeyong’s nest horrifies you–a sentiment seemed to be shared by his mate.

"He spent most of his childhood in a bunker," Doyoung explains. "You don't have to stay in the foxhole." 

Taeyong had created the darkest, strangest abode possible: a closed space built into his half of the apartment that you have to almost crawl into. Deep inside it’s lit by a variety of warm lights set off by graffitied walls and a maximalist approach to bedding and adornments. You peer only for a few seconds into the abyss through the smaller entrance, sniffing at the faded musk scents before ducking back up and shaking your head. 

"It feels . . . Wrong to intrude," you state quietly. "Doesn't he need it right now?" 

Doyoung's sigh is palpable. "He’ll survive. Until you're ready he'll stay with the person who most closely matches your profile."

Of course, you think. Johnny. 

"I can be ready," you say. It's not a statement that extends to your heart, not after everything, but you'd been raised to duty. 

Doyoung drops your luggage to place his hands against your upper arms, touch featherlight to keep you from feeling caged. 

"Absolutely not. Not until Taeil clears you. Until then you are still in recovery. From here on you are not doing anything that isn't your heart's design and by your own will." 

You blink up at him, eyes blurring with tears. "I didn't know you were so nice." 

"Don't tell my enemies." He laughs softly, gaze a little sad. "It does seem you've been shown a woeful lack of hospitality, in addition to . . . everything else." 

You shake your head. "Let's not." 

"Right, you need to eat first. And then we'll talk about what comes next." 

You expect to be able to help him–almost want to serve him to see how he would respond–but Doyoung forbids you from the huge, open kitchen. He has a bit of an addled and untrained approach to his work that has you feeling a little lighter as you gently offer suggestions with suppressed laughter in your voice. 

"Taeyong usually does this," he says, unfazed by your amusement or the way you gently correct him before he can add sugar in place of salt.

"It means a lot to me to have a home-cooked meal," you counter. "No matter what, I'm sure it will taste delicious." 

You watch him grow a few inches, long back straightening as he preens under your attention. For a moment you are transported to a different life entirely–one in which you feel like the vagaries of your kind can be ignored. 

"Here," he says, pouring you something milky white into a bowl from a bottle. "Just something to dull the day."

"Rice wine?" You ask after taking a sniff. 

"We have a building resident who brews with a traditional process. It's not too heady, but take it slow."

"Thank you," you murmur, sipping. The taste is slightly chalky but sparkling with ferment, light and sweet on your tongue. "For everything."

Doyoung relaxes a little, as if already dancing on the same wavelength of your emotion.

"I wanted to spend time with you tonight, if you don't mind."

"I don't mind." You shake your head, drinking deeper.

Doyoung's dark eyes dart away, cheek pulled between his teeth as he thinks.

 "I will, of course, let you sleep here on your own–"

"Oh no. Please," you look up at him, frantically. "Please don't leave me alone." 

You quell your anxiety attack, rambling a bit. "Even just to sleep, I need someone. You smell . . . You smell very nice to me."

Doyoung's eyes grow wide, frozen in the act of capping the bottle. Remembering your first conversation at the dinner table has you second-guessing your words. 

"Not that way. I mean, I won't bite you, I promise. I just appreciate having you here."

He's just as startled by your response as you are to having it, diffusing the awkwardness by pouring you more makgeolli, a smile tugging at the corner of his prim mouth.

"You're very kind to worry," he says. "But I can manage myself. I'm honored by your trust and your willingness to keep me company."

You flush, face heating. "I'm not causing you any problems with Taeyong?"

Although your litany of failures was impressive, coming between a pairbond match was not something you could forgive yourself for. He smells deeply of your new mate, more fox than anyone here for the clinging of musk on his skin.

"Our arrangement is less than conventional," he says, clearing his throat. "In some ways we're lucky to have each other, in others . . . well. Like most partnerships outside the Dome's ours is driven by necessity. And . . ."

You glance up, catching the bob in his throat as he finishes swallowing whatever he was about to say. "Let's eat, shall we? Hopefully this is edible."

Thankfully, the tofu stew is perfect, otherwise the drink would easily go to your head. He keeps an eye on your indulgence but your cup is filled consistently. Doyoung sits beside you at the table rather than across, an arrangement that makes you feel safer eating without reservation, nose in your bowl.

The conversation melts away the tension and the occasional splinter of pain in your body, muscles easing with the wine and his company. He seems to have a boundless knowledge of court gossip, even details the years should have swept away, and you find yourself more you–more the person you remembered even if that had been its own kind of artifice. 

You avoid talking about anything personal until it can no longer wait, once he's finished with the dishes and brings your things to his beautifully clean and open bedroom. It's clear his aesthetic sensibilities are more aligned with your own–white and gray surfaces broken up only by the occasional houseplant or art piece.

Much more comfortingly, you are saturated in Alpha scent–a marine quality to it that shines through the wafting sweetness of his prey genome. 

"I have a favor to ask," you say, sitting on the edge of the oversized bed, holding yourself to keep the tremors fixed inside you. 

"Anything," he says, remaining at a distance. 

"I would like . . . " you begin, faltering. "If I'm chosen, I need your help. Integrating into this life. As this pack's omega."

The heaviness returns. You're tired, of course, satisfyingly full. But you feel better than you have in days. His response is a counterweight to that feeling. 

"Can I ask you something that may be too personal for you to answer?" Doyoung asks. 

Your heart sinks, recognizing the beginning of a difficult conversation. You had known there wasn't enough time to protest your inclusion–your acceptance of them did not mean they accepted you. No, that would be up for vote at the tribunal, if the pack even remained. 

"As it pleases you," you nod. 

Doyoung kneels down in front of you, the wide cant of his shoulders dipping as he takes your hand. Your heartbeat is racing, but not from fear. You fixate on the veins leading to the back of his wrists, and the tenderness of his thumb over your trembling fingers.

"I feel like I know everything about you, but we really haven't had time to talk without pretense," he says softly. "I want you to know that you're safe with me."

"I know," you say, not sure of it even as you speak it.

"Please be honest with yourself, if not for me," he says. 

Fear paces up and down your spine but you will your fox to relax, held still.

"___," he says. "If, in another world, another life, we'd been allowed to be the pack you chose instead of the one forced upon you. Do you believe we could have ever been worthy of you?" 

Worthy? Your ears flatten back, chin ducking autonomically in half-hearted submission. "I don't know what you mean."

"Imagine there wasn't a disparity between our numbers. You were free to choose any mate you desired. No designation even. Have you ever considered what you would look for in a potential partner? Or partners?"

You remember being a child, told you were something special. One worthy of being selected, and courted long before the ceremonies that preceded mating. Not a person or an equal, perhaps, but a prize to be treasured. 

The word worthy continues to prick at you, making you feel cold and more hollow.

"I hadn't considered it." You admit, peering up just far enough to take in his serious expression. "I think even if I had I would accept that whoever chose me would never know if it was . . ."

Just biology. Compulsion. Determined fate.

"What would be the point?" you say, airily. "It's not like any of us have a real choice in this world who we're drawn to."

Or what would tear you apart.

"Right," he says with a sigh. "But what about being loved?"

Love. 

That word breaks you in its own way, hearing it spoken aloud. It almost makes you sick. 

You'd never imagined being loved. Desired, yes–for what you represented or could offer. A conditional transaction, upheld through mutual courtesy if not mutual respect.

No, being loved–loving someone–is an ugly and messy thing, you think. 

"Why imagine something impossible," you say, finally meeting his gaze. His eyes are so dark you'd never noticed the lovely amber quality to them on the edges, the hare bleeding through.

"May I explain?" he asks.

You nod to indicate you're fine with whatever persuasion he's been mulling over, but inside you feel bolstered to defend your position. 

"Wouldn't you look for someone who treats you with loving-kindness? Someone who prioritizes your needs over their own?" he asks, tentatively.

You shake your head, lip trembling. "It sounds like a child's fantasy."

"It goes back to the ancient code of chivalry. Even Alphas are taught to protect those perceived as weaker–to give them aid without questioning it, to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

Of course, you think, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. He's a Romantic. Chivalric dury was something you'd been immersed in since your first education in the Academy, but you'd yet to see it in action outside of protecting kin and country. No Alpha was capable of true sacrifice, to you it's just a mask to better humanize the ugly truth of a dominating and self-serving nature. 

"You find this droll," he says, understanding your disinterest. "I admit it's just a code of honor that no one really believes in, anymore."

"No," you say, shaking off your prejudices. "I think it has value. But I would rather have honesty."

Doyoung is surprisingly quiet, waiting for you to continue. 

"If someone considers me less powerful or something to be helped," you shudder at your own choice of terminology, "I would rather them be honest with their intent than to deign to show me mercy."

"Easier to judge the motivations of those who would do you harm, right?" Doyoung's smile takes on a wry edge. "I was raised in the Palace, too, you know."

"Oh, I know," you say. "I think I was a few years behind yours on instruction but Master Park Jinyoung did a number on us both, didn't he?"

You don't call upon your teaching in ancient history but rather etiquette, no class before yours or after insusceptible to a lesson delivered by a handsome Alpha who looked each of his subjects in the eye when delivering instructions. He’d drilled a great deal into you, much of it related to proper behavior. But especially that of courtship.  

He squeezes your fingers, rolling his head to hide his embarrassment. 

"Pardon me for preaching to the choir, I think it's easy to lose my point when you . . . well, you smell very nice to me, too."

Honesty, again. You feel a tingling sense of delight, seeing him with his guard down. For some reason you’d assumed he wouldn’t be interested in you, but this is an admission of sorts–an invitation. It’s a shame he immediately reverts to logician. 

"But you're operating on a false assumption. The feeling is genuine. Whether it's biological or conditional is a metaphysical argument no one should entertain. What matters is here."

He brings your hand to his chest, but doesn't make you touch him, hands enclosing your own. 

"You don't have to accept a match you are forced into by a scarcity of options. You deserve to be loved."

You’re not sure whether to laugh, or cry. For how similar your worlds should be he appears to not even be on the same planet as you are. 

"So Alphas think about these kinds of things, too?"

"Human or animal makes no difference. We both die little-by-little, day-by-day, when we're forced into a life we haven't chosen for ourselves."

"I was making a choice when I left for Strictland," you say, voice wry.

"Yes," he exhales. You feel those walls coming back up, watching the gears turn behind those narrow features as he decides how to dispute you.  

"If it wasn't Nyctos retrieving you, it would have been another. You don't know the level of attrition the Syndicate would be willing to subject you, or anyone who protected you to, to insure you weren't in the hands of one of the Free packs."

Suspicion makes you wary; this is much too close to an understanding yet unspoken between you. Had they made the contract with you, knowing this?

“Including Nyctos?" you ask, hoping he reads the double meaning in your words.

“We may be exiles, but we’re not Free,” he says, letting it sink in before he continues. “The Syndicate has allowed us to exist because Taeyong has never openly disagreed with the ideology his father enforced, and died for.”

“He’s not like him,” you agree, shuddering. 

Such a horrible lineage, millions dying just for one man to prove he could be king over the ruins. Even if the Second Prince had died uncrowned, he'd been the major force behind the worst of the burgeoning efforts of the Syndicate, to make sure the war was won in their favor. 

“No. Not at all,” Doyoung agrees, affection transparent in his voice. “Much like you, we are held hostage to our family’s sins.”

“So even if I weren’t bonded to any of you, you think this is the safest place I could be?” you ask. “Didn’t they try to kill you, too?”

Doyoung sits up, waiting for your permission to sit down beside you. Your hand is still captured in his, but you nod, sinking into his warm presence, his thigh pressed to your own. 

“There’s something we wanted to talk to you about–there’s a lot really–but something I think you might not know, yet,” he begins, warily. “The reason why there was never any question that you’d enter the Imperial harem. Even with . . . your genetics.”

You swallow, mouth dry. 

“Please,” you urge him to continue.

"Whether you like it or not, your existence is a potential spark for change. Your genetics aren't an anomaly, I believe they were deliberately developed and implanted within the Imperial bloodline to change the outcome of designated rule."

The words are a shock to you, the room suddenly frigid as your mind races to understand the implications beneath the rush of panic. "What?"

"If you followed in the footsteps of your grandmother and produced the next generation of heirs, you would be doing so with the ability to introduce the Nostradomina strain as a baseline for any future offspring,” he explains. “Your mother understood that if the elders found this out, you would be summarily executed.” 

"If you go back, you die. No matter what happens, you run."

You nod rather than speak, afraid your voice will betray you.

“It seems that where many are trying to kill you or use you, there are also forces still protecting you."

"My brother?" Your voice is tiny, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

"More likely someone within the palace itself," Doyoung says. He holds, but only long enough to clock that you’re not refuting it. "Do you have any idea who that could be?"

You clench your jaw, remembering the feeling of being shocked over and over again through the last line of interrogation. It keeps you from breaking, so tired of hiding but emboldened to shut this down before you can reveal anything outside the bonds of complete security.

“No,” you say.

Doyoung recognizes your discomfort, if not your lie, stroking your hand. 

"It's not important, right now. I'm sorry to overwhelm you."

"So that's what you really care about." You pull your hand back. "If you think I have anything to share that I haven't under torture than no, you are right. I do not think this pack is capable of being worthy of me." 

Whatever tears you've shed run dry, again. Best not to spend another moment being seduced into complacency by a man with a pretty voice and careful words.

"I think we need each other for survival," you say. "I am grateful that we can align on mutual interests. But please don't mistake me for someone who believes you would ever put my needs over those of this pack's or Taeyong’s. As long as we understand that, we don't need to pretend.”

It takes him a long time to respond, standing silently by the bed as you crawl into it, tucking your tail around you. 

"I'm truly sorry, ___."

You clutch the pillow beneath your head, smelling the melange of the other two who've shared it, a distant third scent making your heart stone. You know you're on your own tonight–you won't beg him to stay beside you. His hesitation is only as good as his retreat, watching you from the doorway.

"I'm ready," you say. "For the tribunal . . . and everything else. Are my terms acceptable?”

You’d had to write it out, unable to make your demands heard if they were in any voice but the one written in your own hand, words preserved with intent and simplicity.

“As you wish,” he says. “I’ll make the preparations.”

Yuta Nakamoto [puma concolor α] - assistant inspector second rank, Neo Seoul Police Response, formerly warrant officer rank junwi, Neo Seoul Military Response

There was a time back in the 2110's when Suh Youngho was just a reserve in the NG Foreign Legion, on the same misfit detail he'd been assigned to. A skinny NUSA kid with a tendency to smile and talk more than anyone was used to. 

A tall poppy just waiting to get domed, they'd said. No one who'd been in this shitass war more than five days would have cracked a joke about it–not after watching the newly-formed Syndicate's tendency to put fresh bodies into beachfront graves. 

Graves in this conflict were euphemistic: when you died there was no one to write home for you or carry your dogtags back, you were just a number on a screen for some scum who paid enough for the Millitech commission and maybe gave you a meal if they shot enough promotional footage to pay for it.

No, the war was already over and the remnants of it had taken them both as far as they could before armistice. Yuta remembers leaving the mess hall as the screens flashed white and the surrender was played, pretending he hadn't seen or understood the message as he carried two rations back to shared quarters.

It would be the first and last blissful journey he made back without having a tray upended, without hearing the spitting invective of another upjumped commissioned officer.

Or so he thought.

"Hey, jjokbari." Lieutenant Choi calls from behind him, a laugh and a whistle accompanying the slur. "That for your Yankee boyfriend? He think he can sleep in today of all days?"

Yuta resists the urge to flip him off, nodding politely in their direction as if he hadn't heard a word. It's not enough–has never been enough–but he continues on with ears pricked towards the sound of movement, hoping they choose the day's flavor of nationalism in the anthem blaring down the hallway instead of tormenting the foreigners risking their lives for them.

"Not gonna celebrate with us, Na?" His second-in-command, Ji taunts. "Enough omega girls to fuck waiting back home?"

Yuta can count the doors back to safety on one hand. Maybe it's a mistake he keeps going.

Maybe. 

There's the pounding of footsteps–someone much heavier and less graceful than the commissioned officer. He waits until they try to swing–too wide, too flailing–to duck under it and move back. Whatever response Private Bootlicker was hoping for it's not the subtle step-away that leaves him lurching into the metal deck.

"Did he even touch him?" Another grunt asks, forever denied a response by the voice that speaks next. 

"Attention." 

Instinct has Yuta turning, saluting, tray balanced in his rest hand. 

"At ease, gentlemen." 

The man stepping into the corridor is dressed in bright red military regalia fitting only the finest, upjumped officer. At least with this one he can count on some of the medals being earned rather than on account of being Daddy General Lee II's favorite. 

Despite the contradictory image of a bioengineered ears and tail and a teenager’s lanky frame, Crown Prince and Captain Lee Taeyong is well-respected within the ranks and twice as deadly as any of the assholes on the carrier. The stories that had come out of his Academy days painted him as unforgiving in hand-to-hand combat, enacting punishments on Alphas who tested him based on his smaller size.

Something is different today; Yuta has never seen him without a full retinue, has barely seen him at all outside of mission briefs. But here he is below deck–accompanied by an Imperial attache in an officer’s field uniform.

"Lieutenant Choi, you're needed for requisition of materiel in Zone 3. Report to Chief Petty Officer Ahn immediately."

"Aye, aye, Captain." The gang recedes, laughter booming off the ceiling even this far away.

"Private, you can either apologize for attempting to hit a superior officer or be gang-planked well before we reach port." The Captain addresses the man currently skulking away, before he can leave sight.

Yuta watches his would-be bully grovel, unable to respond for fear he'll be reported back on to Choi and his like. Even with the war over there would always be the clancorps to rely on for another boot upon his neck.

"Private Kim," Taeyong's attendant says, coughing. 

"You're officially free to go back to–" the small man reads through a specific address and name. "Busan. Placed your name on the first transport flight out as crew."

"I will throw you off this ship personally if I see your face or those of your compatriots, do you understand me?"

Taeyong doesn't have to bare his teeth for the threat to be made and understood. Soon they're alone, again, just two breakfasts and the most Yuta has seen of command since joining as a warrant officer.

"Fuck." The Captain says, bending over to the floor. He's shivering all over, scent blockers doing little to hide the cloying cinnamon and musk roiling off of him. Yuta thinks he’s lucky the majority of the remaining crew are Beta recruits or young enough not to know the difference in scents, true designated like themselves having been run through within the first years of the war.

"You didn't see this." The other officer on deck says, bent over a touchpad. Yuta finally notices the universal red cross of a medic along with the hangeul name badge: Moon. "Which way is 119?”

"That's my bunk, sir." 

Both of them look up, the Captain’s squinting eyes opened wide.

"Nakamoto Yuta, is your roommate Suh Youngho?"

"Correct, sir."

"Take me to your quarters and you'll never have to call me sir again," the Crown Prince says, on the floor, tail batting to and fro. 

"Discreetly, please," Moon adds. 

Yuta hadn't given a second thought to the command, still wouldn't years later. If anything they'd saved him the sole duty of escorting Suh in his first rut, 100 leagues from the nearest proxy hotel. No one else had their back until then. A stroke of luck, or fate–it didn't matter.

He’d chosen Nyctos, and the others, for life. 

Now he's in another foreign prison under the guise of conscription, resident of cell block C in what should have been his own home, receiving updates in morse code from Jungwoo tapping impatiently on the other side of the wall. 

Taeyong is the first to visit, posture bent by almost a week in recovery from whatever you have put him through, sweating through his suit. He waits for the others before speaking his piece over the door comms. Yuta has seen his commander in this state many times since that first encounter, but he can’t help but find it funny–the solution to his problem had been there from the start. 

"I take responsibility for everything that happened," Taeyong announces, after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence and no sign of being joined by the others. 

Jungwoo's laugh can't be heard through the thick walls but Yuta echoes it, slumping into his cot. They’d made a bet that Taeyong would issue a formal apology on behalf of his mate, a fact that Yuta relied on enough he’d just won. He expects admonishment from Taeyong but instead the pack's omega reads something scrawled on ancient copy paper.

". . . Including my own death."

It's carbon-scored and dotted black with what looks like blood or water-staining, script tight and messy.

"I am a political refugee who sought asylum. I end my journey here. If this message reaches any of those who care for me, I am leaving as a final act of mercy. Please do not punish anyone involved, they did not know who or what I was when they took me in." 

Taeyong's voice chokes on that line in his reading. Yuta watches him sit cross-legged on the floor between cells, gripped by bodily torment or emotion–he cannot say.

"Signed Lee ____, last child of Lee Eunji."

The silence hangs over them through the static of the comm, until Yuta laughs again, much more darkly. 

"Mercy?" Yuta says. "That suicide note is a writ of execution to be carried out by whoever sent her here."

“She wrote this before we even brought her back,” Taeyong growls, low, standing up to stare him down. "She's not operating against us. Or at least she wasn't until you two began terrorizing her."

The gravity of that statement is wasted on him. 

“Pretty clear she was expecting someone to find it, then,” Yuta says. “Smart girl.”

The window slams with Taeyong’s fist, just a streak of red tail visible through the haze of dust. Yuta stands up to join him at the window, stretching against the day spent in solitary and yawning as if he’s more comfortable than stiff.

"Do you have any compassion?" Taeyong asks once he’s done, brows lowered as he looks at him through the barrier. "You took initiative to torture her without a directive or a lead. Left her unsupervised and unsearched. We could have had a dead omega on our hands."

An expensive mistake, Yuta thinks, but he knows better than to provoke the captain by saying it aloud. He shrugs.

"Johnny gave the order to investigate her," Yuta says, too defensively for his own comfort. "It's not my fault he didn't specify a methodology."

"Just how they do things in NSMP, right?" Taeyong asks, crumpling the paper in his anger. "Any means necessary, is it?"

He doesn't speak, denying him an emotional response.

"You haven't asked us what we found," Jungwoo says, his lilting voice distorted by the speaker. 

Taeyong's firm expression falters. Got him. As much as he enjoys seeing Taeyong’s attempts to interrogate them via emotional manipulation, it's better to use this opportunity to pluck out whatever card is hidden up the Vulpine’s sleeve. There’s been a woeful lack of transparency within the pack of late, compartmentalization of intelligence constantly invoked where the four in charge were concerned. 

If he’s going to be exiled over something as banal as a feral omega with a deathwish, it would be nice to understand why you’re considered more important than the pack itself. 

"You already know who’s behind this, don't you?" Yuta says.

He doesn’t mean the events, those were already reported. Taeyong knows exactly what he’s implied, his own slit-eyes breaking away to look at the floor. He’s quiet, smoothing the letter–which Yuta notes is much longer than what was read, text impossible to work out from this vantage. 

“It’s need to know,” Taeyong says, “until we have more information.”

Yuta smirks at him. “And why would that be? Someone worth protecting? Family perhaps?”

“The pack,” Taeyong snaps immediately. There’s an ancestral quality to his posture, head stooped and ears flattened, sharp little canines bared. Yuta registers the promised threat in that he finds it intriguing, but his cat ignores it entirely.

Thankfully Doyoung interrupts before the Captain can embarrass himself further with the jimseung-like lack of control, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

"We have a suspicion of who it might be after performing the decrypt. Yet another reminder that your little routine was completely unnecessary." Doyoung glances down at his agent with a bored expression. "You can't possibly think we'd share that information with you when you're threatening to leave."

Yuta nods in agreement, keeping his mouth shut.

"The tribunal will be held the day after tomorrow. I hope you reflect on your actions and get your affairs in order before then." 

He unlocks the doors to their cells, not waiting for them to join as he leads Taeyong away.

The strategist looks over his shoulder as he escorts the Captain out. “Oh, and if I were you, I’d avoid Suh tonight. No telling what he’ll do in his state.”

Yuta waits until they’re gone to tap a message back to Jungwoo, who he can’t help but notice hasn’t left his cell, either. Knowing the Canid he’s probably already locked the door again, from the inside. 

Tap tap tap. Thunk thunk thunk. Tap tap tap.

This time, he can hear the other Alpha laugh quietly at the joke.

[previous] [next] [check the masterlist before you proceed]

[rinnepegger]

Obey me bros as song lyrics

Because I heard the lyrics to one of Ricky Montgomery's songs and I felt like writing this (•‿•). I'll do the bros for now, probably the dateables tmr ^^. Enjoy this short blog post for today. Drink water and stay safe

TW/CW: none

★☆ Lucifer : Out like a light- Ricky Montgomery & The Honeysticks, Love&War- Yellow Claw, Yade Lauren

"If I betray our lonely nights spent out like a light,

With no kiss goodnight,

Would we ever fight when I'm away?"

"You told me from the start

Nothing could tear us apart

Now when I look I see a stranger

I come here but I can't stay"

★☆ Mammon : Love taste- Moe Shop, Shiki-TMNS, hrmnzr, Lovefool- The Cardigans, Comfort Crowd- Conan Gray

"I wanna see it, wanna feel your love

I wanna touch it, I'll never have enough"

"I want your everything, every single part of you

I want to taste your love, anything you want to do"

"Love me love me

Say that you love me

Fool me fool me

Go on and fool me

Love me love me

Pretend that you love me

Leave me leave me

Just say that you need me"

"This hurt that I'm holding's getting heavy

But I'ma keep a smile on my shoulders 'til I'm sweaty

Beggin' on my knees

Screamin', "Someone come and help me"

But by the time they're there

I've already hid the body"

★☆ Leviathan : Nothing's working out (なにやってもうまくいかない)- meiyo, Why Did it Have To Be Me? -From "Mamma Mia!"

"I hurt someone with stupid, dirty, filthy words.

I’ll ignore it, but if I take it seriously, I’ll feel hurt again."

"I won’t go back even if I hate it

Over time I realized I’d assimilated

I mean, there’s no going back"

" “I see!” I realize, feel hurt, slow down

Compromise just like that, frustration at full blast "

"Nights can be empty and nights can be cold

So you were looking for someone to hold

That's only natural

But why did it have to be me?"

"I was so lonesome, I was blue

I couldn't help it, it had to be you and I

Always thought you knew the reason why

I only wanted a little love affair

Now I can see you are beginning to care

But baby, believe me

It's better to forget me"

★☆ Satan : can I call you tonight?- Dayglow, When He Sees Me- From "Waitress"

"So can I call you tonight?

I'm trying to make up my mind

Just how I feel

Could you tell me what's real?

I hear your voice on the phone

Now I'm no longer alone"

"I stick with real things

Usually facts and figures

When information's in its place

I minimize the guessing game"

"Is what if when he sees me, what if he doesn't like it?

What if he runs the other way and I can't hide from it?"

"If when he knows me, he's only disappointed?

What if I give myself away, to only get it given back?

I couldn't live with that"

"What if when he sees me

I like him and he knows it?

What if he opens up a door

And I can't close it?"

"But still I can't help from hoping (in hope for love?)

To find someone to talk to

Who likes the way I am

Someone who when he sees me

Wants to again"

★☆ Asmodeus : Toy- Takayan , Amour Plastique- Videclub

"I want to run away from myself and this expression I conceal

In order for no one to realize how I feel

It’s like forcibly gripping thorns with my palm"

"If morning comes I’ll be with a stranger, and tonight I’m with another dull love

Goodnight, disposable toys"

" “I want to be loved” “I want to played with” , my two selves "

"I don’t mind if you’re a little dirty, I don’t care if you lack common sense

I only have myself to save"

"Eventually soon will be the day I laugh with the person I love holding hands"

"In my mind everything goes wild

I lose myself in your eyes

I drown myself in the wave

Of your loving gaze

I only want your soul

Going wild on my skin"

"And at night I cry tears that stream down my cheeks

I only think of you when the days ends, only when

My sad demons fall heavily on me into the endless abyss

Love me so that the roses wither

That our souls sink into deep tears"

★☆ Beelzebub : Honeypie- Jawny, Pluto Projector- Rex Orange County, Virtual Aerobics- The Wallows.

"Ooh, girl, don't you stop

Don't you stop 'til you get enough honey

Oh, honey, honeypie

Honey, honey, honeypie"

"The great protector

Is that what I'm supposed to be?

What if all this counts for nothing

Everything I thought I'd be?

What if by the time I realize

It's too far behind to see?"

"Stay forever, you know more than anyone, yeah, whoa

And it's you that knows my darkness

And you know my bedroom needs

You could blast me and my secrets

But there's probably just no need"

"I'm not too good, but I try my best

Work hard no matter what happens next

Wanna dress in what makes you like me"

"When we aren't together, fuck all of the weather

I'll get to your side like that

Side like that, side like, side like

I'll get to your side like that

Let's spend the night"

★☆ Belphegor : I Love You So- The Walters, I'm just your problem- From "Adventure Time"

"You're saying I'm the one, but it's your actions that speak louder

Giving me love when you are down and need another

I've gotta get away and let you go, I've gotta get over"

"I'm gonna pack my things and leave you behind

This feeling's old and I know that I've made up my mind

I hope you feel what I felt when you shattered my soul

'Cause you were cool and I'm a fool

So please let me go"

"I'm gonna bury you with my sound

I'm gonna, drink the red

From your pretty pink face"

"Sorry I don't treat you like you're perfect

Like all your little loyal subjects do

Sorry I'm not made of sugar

Am I not sweet enough for you?"

"Is that why you always avoid me?

I must be such an inconvenience to you

Well, I'm just your problem

I'm just your problem

It's like I'm not even a person, am I?

I'm just your problem, well"

---

[spxllcxstxr]

Date Night • The Marauders

(Gif not mine)

Request: Maybe like a poly!marauders x (she/her) reader where they just spend a day together :) like you can write smut If you’d like, but yea maybe they can go out to eat id like to see a dynamic in a poly relationship w them. Thank you!! Love your writing <3 — anon

Summary: Date nights are rare, but tonight, you go out for ice cream with your partners

Warnings: Food and eating!! The entire fic is about eating, so please stay safe! If you have a peanut allergy no you don’t. Also, if you’re lactose intolerant like me, uhhhh pretend there’s a potion for that I guess, kinda implied first Wizarding war, smallest hint of steaminess

Word Count: 1.6k

A.N: Remus=Ross, James=Chandler, Sirius=Joey, right? This took me like weeks to finish...but overall I kinda like it. Let me know what you think, and love you all ❤️

****

The four of you very rarely had free time.

Between missions and meetings, you and your partners almost never had time off, and even when you did, one of you would still be busy. One of you would still be undercover or stuck debriefing the latest mission with Mad-Eye for hours.

So it’s weird to find yourself situated on the couch, Sirius’ head resting on your lap and Remus on the other end, stuck with his feet. James shuffles around in the kitchen behind you, stuck with dish duty after almost setting your flat on fire.

Sirius snuggles deeper into your thigh, evidently still exhausted from the previous day’s mission he was tasked with.

The flat is mostly quiet, the only sounds coming from Remus turning the pages of his novel and the ceramic plates clashing together as they get put away. The sun slowly sets outside, basking your living room in glowing orange in light.

You run your fingers through the mess of dark curls splayed out on your lap, always lustrous and soft to the touch. He hums deeply in approval.

A sharp clap from behind jolts you out of your peaceful thoughts.

You crane your neck to watch as James throws on his denim jacket.

“I believe that we,” He starts, eyeing the three of you. “deserve a date night.”

Instantly, a smile grows across your face. The last time the four of you had a proper date night, it was 1979 and Queen had just released a new song, which meant that Sirius needed to celebrate with all of you at the pub getting absolutely pissed.

Since you all joined the Order, all your free time has been sucked down the drain.

So that’s why the mere suggestion of the normally elusive date night makes you feel all giddy inside. You would’ve gotten up from your comfortable position to throw your coat on if it wasn’t for Sirius practically securing you to the cushions.

“But James...” He groans.

“Oh c’mon, Pads, we haven’t been on a proper date since—“

“Last year.” Remus interjects, shutting his book before placing it onto the coffee table. “But then again, you were too drunk for it to actually be considered a date.”

“Don’t blame me, blame Freddie and his Merlin given voice.” Sirius muses, still laying on your thigh. His fingers dance around your kneecap.

Remus slowly eases himself off the couch, joining James by the front door.

“Fine.” You hear James shrug. “We’ll just leave you here to suffer while Remus, (Y/n), and I go out to Florean’s.”

This seems to grab his attention, because he perks up just enough for you to slide out of his grasp.

You end up at Remus’s side, clinging to his grey jumper as you excitedly pull on your shoes.

“Ice cream?” Sirius asks, pushing his hair behind his ears. “Without me?”

“It doesn’t have to be without you, Sirius.” You retort, sandwiched between James and Remus. “If you get your arse over here, we won’t have to leave you.”

“Alright, you’ve convinced me.” Sirius huffs, hands raised in mock surrender, dragging himself over to the front door.

He waves his wand, boots zipping out of the closet and slipping onto his feet, his dark leather jacket covering his white shirt on its own.

“What, are simple tasks too hard for you now?” Remus teases, lightly bumping his shoulder into Sirius’.

“We’ve got magic for a reason, Moons.” The shorter of the two rolls his eyes. “Might as well use it.”

Remus opens his mouth to retort but James swiftly interrupts their bickering.

“I swear to Godric Gryffindor himself, (Y/n) and I will leave both you gits here.”

There’s grumbling from the two of them, but it becomes garbled once James throws an arm around you and Apparates you to Diagon Alley.

Your brain feels like it’s spinning in your skull and your stomach tugs familiarly at your naval. Sure you’ve Apparated many many times before, but it’s simply not fun no matter what.

As per usual, Diagon Alley is loud. Children and drunkards laugh, spells and fireworks whizz passed your ears, people in heels trot across the cobblestone path.

It’s places like Diagon Alley that remind you why you love magic so much.

James’ arm is still heavy on your shoulders as you watch people in cloaks and tall hats rush by you.

There’s a startling crack behind you and you and James turn around to see your other partners. Sirius might have a few new purple bruises littered across his collar bones and Remus might have a smug look plastered across his face, but no one says anything. Remus throws the two of you a silent wink as Sirius hangs off of him.

“Gonna hold my hand, Moony?” James questions, his arm outstretched.

Remus eagerly takes it, fingers interlocking.

So the four of you are connected as you stroll down the street. Your face is buried into James’ denim jacket, the faint smell of grass stains and broom oil an already welcomed scent. In the middle, James and Remus have their shoulders rubbing together as they walk, James’ thumb most likely tracing figure eights between his knuckles like he always does. Lastly, it seems like Sirius had changed his position enough to stick a hand in Remus’ back pocket.

The sun continues to dip lower below the horizon, resulting in candles and lanterns being lit in every dark corner. Children are ushered inside homes and adults start to flock towards the pubs.

With the looming threat of dark and dangerous wizards, people aren’t taking their chances, safety in numbers and safety indoors being popular within the village.

Florean Fortescue's Ice-Cream Parlor is lit up in a rainbow of colors as always, and the sweet scent of ice cream drifts through the air. People sit in crowds outside the shop, enjoying their treats on the sidewalk or some even spread out on the street.

“So what’re you going for today, Jamie?” You ask as your little group enters the shop.

A little bell sounds from above you, barely heard over the boisterous laughter and rowdy conversations that surround you.

Unlike you, Sirius, and Remus, James doesn’t have a signature flavor. He had to have a different kind every visit. So while Remus had already ordered his strawberries and cream in a waffle cone and Sirius is eyeing his peanut butter ice cream, James is still perusing his options like a little kid.

Your own ice cream starts to melt a bit while you’re waiting.

James squints his eyes at the names, despite his glasses already resting on the bridge of his nose.

“You haven’t done toffee apple in a bit, Prongs.” Sirius points, his finger making contact with the cool glass barrier.

“You’re right.” James hums. “Thanks.” He presses a quick kiss to Sirius’ stubbled cheek before ordering his ice cream.

There’s a small open table across the way, lit up by a few lanterns, which the four of you claim.

There’s a very slight breeze that makes you cuddle up to Remus’ soft jumper.

Desperate to talk about something other than the current state of affairs, James gets caught up talking the Wimbourne Wasps and their new Beater, Ludovic Bagman.

You watch Sirius, tongue poking ever so slightly out of the corner of his mouth, try to sneak a scoop of James’ ice cream while he’s distracted.

Attempting to hide your amusement, you bring a hand up to cover your mouth, feigning interest in the Quidditch talk.

You watch the spoon make an indent and it’s halfway to Sirius’ mouth before—

“Oi!”

The silver spoon freezes abruptly, and grey eyes widen significantly.

“Is that why you suggested toffee apple? So you could nick some of my bloody ice cream?” James gasps dramatically, mouth agape in shock.

“Where’re your manners, James?” Sirius retorts, licking his spoon. “Sharing is caring.”

His hazel eyes narrow. “I don’t know, Black, that looked more like thievery to me.”

“Well let’s take it to our very own Wizengamot, then.” Sirius loudly gestures to you and Remus.

“Well I’m sure that for a wee bit of ice cream, (Y/n) and I, as key witnesses to the whole event, can clear the air.” Remus smirks, biting into his cone.

Sirius swiftly pushes the rest of his ice cream across the table, not even trying to be discrete about his offering. You and Remus start to dig in.

“Bribery!” James shouts, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. “This trial is a load of bullshit!”

“Sorry James, can’t hear you over how good this is.” Remus remarks with his mouth full.

You lick your spoon, watching the theatrics.

“That doesn’t even make sense!” James straightens his glasses and runs a hand through his hair in playful frustration.

“Aw, Jamie...you want some of mine?” You pout, offering some of your own frozen dessert.

“At least someone at this table loves me.” James grumbles, sticking a spoon into your bowl.

Sirius sticks his tongue out.

“Hey, I never said Sirius was cleared of all charges.” Remus raises a scarred brow.

“What?” Sirius snaps. “But I bribed you!”

You snicker at his balled up fists.

“So you admit to the bribery, you might as well admit to the thievery while you’re at it.” He finishes the bowl, licking the last of it from his spoon.

“Oh how the tables have turned.” James smugly points out.

Sirius childishly pouts, opting to pick at his black painted fingernails.

“We should have date nights more often.” James chuckles, clinking your spoons together.

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco @mullthingsoverinthehotwater

[canceltheact]

Cancel The Act: The Definitive Theory of Lunky, Lixian, and Actor Mark

Hello there theorists! This is the big one - the (hopefully) final draft of CancelTheAct. 

For those of you that have been following this tale of truth, perserverance, and chromatic aberration,you may find that a few section of this are exactly the same. It basically is the same theory, but with a few things tightened up (see post from two days ago) and some updated information. This is the big one we’re hoping on spreading, so be sure to reblog this one like you’ve done before. We really appreciate all the support you’ve given this assertion.

 And for those who are seeing this for the first time...welcome! This is a theory exploring what's been going on the past few months on Markiplier's channel, and the side story that connects the odd goings-on. If you support this theory, spread the word on Twitter and reblog, not just like, on Tumblr with the hashtags and this very site.

 Thank you for all the support, folks! Now...let's talk about the truth. We'll see you on the other side.

So, if you are a Markiplier fan on the interwebs, you have no doubt seen the newest Cloak ad that was in the Cooking Simulator video from about a month ago and noticed something...off. Something... suspicious. And if you follow Mark lore, you know that this was NOT ordinary Mark. This was Actor. The robe underneath the Cloak merchandise he was wearing, the spotlights and cracking of his body reminiscent of the Darkiplier ending from AHWM, and of course, what he says in a haughty tone of voice, seeming to be the opposite of his opening stair spiel in WKM: "It's not about you...it's about me." Heading over to instagram, we get more interesting stuff, with a description of the ad clearly reflecting the events of WKM from Actor's skewed and self-righteous perspective.

Was this just a ploy for marketing purposes, you ask? How could it be important to something? Well, Cloak's response to said post says it all: "oh". Meaning they had NO CLUE this was coming.

Even in that Cooking Simulator video, there were signs that this wasn't just pertaining to an ad. In the kitchen of the game, he comments "Modern is stupid; I’ve always said this; I want the classics," quite a different opinion from the man we knew that owned FIVE OVENS, but would seem quite on brand for someone who lived in a old-style manor - even the Youtube description seems a bit suspicious saying that "this time, I'm gonna show everyone what I'm all about." No doubt, Actor Mark has made quite a return, for seemingly NO REASON, right? Right? Well....not exactly. We’re here to tell you that Actor's been here for quite a longer time than you might expect.

For those who have been paying attention to Markiplier for the past couple months, you may have noticed some strange, yet fleeting events.

The stick figure monstrosity known as Lunky invading Mark’s channel for one day. The strange revelation that Markiplier isn’t real, yet 6 days later denied by the very man who confirmed it. The erratic behavior of the editor known as Lixian.

Such strange goings on, isn’t it? But I have reason to believe that these incidents are part of a greater step in the lore of Markiplier. That these very events are tied to each other, and something much bigger than the sum of their parts. Many people have had their thoughts on what this all means. It’s time we threw our hat full of overthinking and crazed observation into the ring. Hopefully, this theory will help uncover a bigger story. A story of control, reality… and CHROMATIC ABERRATION.

First of all, let’s answer the question: is Markiplier real? Answer: No, he’s not. Even with the “Markiplier isn’t Real” videos not being canon, it doesn’t mean that Markiplier is “real” after all. Because he is, and always has been in terms of CANON, Actor. (Now this doesn’t mean that every video Mark has done has been in character, just the ones that have correlation with the Lunky arc, Lunxian affair, and the Mark isn’t real stuff, as this relates to bigger story beats that are happening.) Think about it. After the events of WKM, Actor (who already was a Youtuber as seen as one of the points on the Detective’s theory board reads “What is a Let’s Play?” implying to Mark’s original ticket to Youtube) used Damien’s body as a replacement for his own and going on with his life, rising to even more Youtube fame. This makes him not who he seems, and definitely not real as the person his fans and editors in canon thought him to be. But what does this have to do with Lixian? With Lunky? What about those confessions? Well, for that, we have to start at the beginning.

Lixian and the Lunxian Affair

Though the MarkiplierIsntReal videos aren’t meant to be canon, as told to the member mixers by Mark himself, we have seen behavior from Lixian that is still similar to the entire week-long event - that Lixian has found something out about Mark. We can gauge this through not only the behavior of Mark, but of Lixian as well. Most notably, in 3 Scary Games #46, we see the description of the video of what reads like Mark’s pleas to us, calling Lixian “a monster” and that “the old methods aren't working anymore.” Actor is trying to control Lixian, and even sow the seeds of fear into his audience. Lixian, in that same video, pulls a knife on Mark and, in general, acts more antagonistic towards him. From 3 Scary Games #46, we can gather that Actor isn't happy about any information Lixian may have leaked or let loose at this point.

There are 2 big points that support this:

1. Lixian's animation sprite during the episode mainly shows up as a shadow, otherwise known as "Shadow Lixian". Lixian's animation sprite typically assumes this shadow form as a visual way to let the viewers know that he's sneaking around and doing something that Actor wouldn't approve of.

2. Actor develops the idea of a "controlled Lixian" (which is later to become known as "Lunxian") to where Actor can use his arcane powers to have Lixian do/say whatever he wishes.

But of course Actor can only come up with the idea of a perfect editor at the time, and has no real way to actually manipulate Lixian at this point. It's not until Lixian leaves for vacation that Actor puts a plan into motion.

In an attempt to try and get rid of Lixian, Actor created Lunky to try and make a replacement Lixian. This obviously didn't work, as Lunky is barely like Lixian and was seen for a time by Actor as a poor carbon copy. And as we can see in the Minecraft video where Lunky is introduced, Mark dislikes Lunky immensely, pushing him off to the side and not wanting to even edit him in. Mark doesn’t even say that he made Lunky - he just says that he’s here so that he’s not talking to himself.

Despite this separation, though, there are clues right off the bat here that Lunky and Mark are connected. Where, may you ask? Well, in the outro of this very video (Lixian Is gone, Lunky Is Here), there were some awfully interesting shrieking sounds. Almost sounded….backwards. And wouldn’t you know it, after we reversed the audio, we could hear a voice. And with a few more tweaks to the speed and to isolate all of the echoing sounds that were added to the audio (which is actually a tad important), we made out “Thanks for watching - don’t forget to like” before it dribbles off. (Hear audio here: https://canceltheact.tumblr.com/post/645011603474038784/backwards-lunky-audio-for-reference-in-todays Also, if there are any audio expert theorists out there who are more skilled than us that can get a better result, write us and tell us what you find!) However...this echoing that comes off the audio seems familiar. What other type of person has a voice that echoes? Oh right! ACTOR when using arcane powers!

This CONFIRMS, through the echos and that would be what Mark would say, that Lunky was created by Actor through the arcane power stuff and Lunky, at the moment, though trying to be a poor carbon copy of Lixian, is at most being a channel for Actor's things he would typically do on the channel, as that encapsulates the story dimension and his power as a whole. And not only does the presence of this backwards audio reveal more about this seemingly joke character, it also reveals that this is something that Mark has put time into and planned for this to be something bigger than a one-off.

But then Actor realized that he could use Lunky to do the next best thing - be an extension of his own power and subdue Lixian enough so that he would be kept quiet. So Actor bided his time with Lunky and ‘allowed’ Lixian to trap Lunky in a cage. 

This backfires on Actor though, as Lunky manages to harness some of that Actor power and attempts to complete his original intent...to destroy Lixian. Lunky goes on a rampage, overtaking both Lixian’s channel and Markiplier’s channel until Lixian kills him - Or so it seems.

Actor realizes what has happened and decides to do a combination of his two previous plans: have Lunky possess Lixian, making Lunxian (a name we have come up with for this phenomena), in order to keep Lixian completely under control. We see this through two things:

1. Lunky's rainbow glitch, or chromatic aberration, around him is transferred to Lixian AFTER Lunky gets killed - and we see Lixian acting VERY differently towards the editors, saying that he’s watching them, being present in several videos outside of 3 Scary Games and being generally creepier than usual when judging from the scope in general.

2. Lixian screams "I'm the Editor" after ‘defeating’ Lunky. Interesting, isn't it? Lixian has said a few times before that he doesn’t like being called editor. But Lunky, in control of Lixian now, has a different want. Lunky was meant to be the editor for Actor, hence why Lunky would want to be called editor.

#CancelTheAct Reasoning

But now, to let you know exactly WHY we're pushing "CancelTheAct". So, Actor has used the story dimension in order to keep those he has trapped in the manor in playing out his stories, such as Dark as the villain and Abe as the detective archetypes, right? I realized: the story dimension IS the channel. And what does the channel drive on? Fans. So, Actor derives his power from being able to be the hero, the lead of the stories, and his channel in canon gauges his influence and power right? Well... Lixian is trying to EXPOSE ACTOR from what he’s found and we see that as not just exposing... but “cancel” him in the eyes of the people who GIVE HIM POWER... his fans in canon. Thereby making Actor powerless. The fans in canon will see him as a fraud, not support him, and take away his strength of his ego. Jabbing a slight bit at the now-popular cancel culture, we are siding with that fight with a clever little hashtag that can be made alongside #MarkiplierIsntReal. Though MIR was never actually a canon intention by Mark, it’s still a hashtag that people are familiar with - and as it relates to the fact that Actor has been putting on a facade, we can use it in order to rally our cause.

Rainbow Chromatic Aberration Breakdown

Why would this rainbow aberration be cause for identification of something being off? Of Actor?

Well... back in the WMW breakdown video, Mark talks about this one point in the mini movie where there’s this aberration, when Wilford and Abe go from the detective’s office to back at the dance club. Paraphrasing here, he says that this is not Darkiplier and that he just wanted to replicate the effect of a VCR rewinding to establish to take things “from the top” with Wilf and Abe’s meeting. Remember the VCR thing though, that’ll be important later. (Time stamp: 2:07:50 https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rsi_L1b1RwE&lc=Ugwo26EalTI5QP15ooF4AaABAg) This thereby establishing Warfstache’s use of gelling and framing this weird reality by manipulating time and space. We see this AGAIN in AHWM, as when the box is used in the Bob/Wade endings and we go through time, we see the SAME COLORS OF ABERRATION. Warfstache does the same VCR type thing in the interview as well. Ok, so we’ve established that the rainbow aberration implies when one (besides Dark) manipulates their time and space.

Now, these colors look familiar... where have I seen them before OH RIGHT. LUNKY. Lunky has appeared with this aberration through that video with his song (you know the one) and in the 3 scary games videos. Since we’ve seen that Lunky is connected as an extension of and creation from Actor’s power, it makes sense that Lunky would have a similar chromatic aberration. We see this fabrication from time and space (Lunky) use this manipulation power, and then, as Lixian is possessed and subdued by Lunky to become Lunxian, this aberration is also adopted. (for image examples, see Lunxian picture in the first part of this theory)

However, we have seen some slight resistance throughout these Lunxian appearances, showing signs of Lixian trying to break free, as we see in the Forest video “Escaping the Sinkhole” where he says “You think you can replace me?” But instead of the typical rainbow aberration, the colors are inverted to a purple and bluish green.

An aberration we’ve seen a couple times before: in the “DEAD” post that Lixian posted on his Twitter when he was thought to be killed, and in the flashback sequences in Lixian’s Confession which, while doesn’t give us any information for the story, still gives us context for what colors show Lixian in control.

However, despite the control of Lunky over Lixian, the past few weeks has shown the emergence of Actor, despite how he tries to keep it under wraps.

Events Post First Lunxian Emergence - Post MarkiplierIsntReal

In the past few weeks, we have seen through the types of video uploads that Mark has put out, along with Lixian’s behavior, that despite Actor’s attempts to keep his identity under wraps, there have been increasing signs in the in-canon Actor channel and Mark’s real life channel stuff that tips us off otherwise.

First off, in the first week after Markiplier Isn’t Real, there were only compilations and old footage from streams, which wasn’t exactly too important, except for a few hints through the editing that Lixian gave us - first, the fact that a lot of the text and effects were surrounded in that Lunky/Actor rainbow aberration - implying that Lixian isn’t really acting of his own free will...not controlled, per say, but not allowed to talk about the secrets of Actor.

In this same compilation, we even get a hint that something is amiss from Lixian - in a moment from the end of 3 Scary Games #38 where Mark is wholesomely preeshing Lixian, suddenly, the moment glitches in a similar fashion to how it was done at the end of Lixian’s Confession - then cuts to the scene where Lixian “kills” Lunky. This type of unusual transition into such an event lets the audience know that this event is important and something to pay attention to.

Secondly, in the 3 scary games compilation, we have an interesting change in edit that Lixian made - instead of the normal jumpscare from 3 scary games #57 with Mark with no eyes, Lunky is plastered over Mark’s face, implying Actor and Lunky’s connection.

The interesting thing that has popped up from these videos isn’t just the type of game that has been done, but, specifically, the behavior of Lixian. And it mainly started with the editor collabs that Lixian has been doing with Marcus (aka Nerd Fiction) and Rachel, the two new editors for Markiplier’s channel- not only a tool to help them learn the ropes to the type of editing Lixian does, but also leaving room for an interesting plot device.

In the first simulator collab episode, “Cooking Simulator”, Lixian seemed to be able to be in control by Actor, doing his VCR chromatically aberrated bidding, but being a bit more acting of his own free will, being a bit more resentful of the job instead of compliant.

However, in the second simulator collab video, “Car Accident Simulator”, Lixian seems a LOT LESS compliant and even rebellious. Yet Mark seems to be ok with joshing Lixian’s chain around, even mockingly calling him editor. Even more interesting…the fact that Lixian says “I’ve got all your dirt!”, implying his knowledge and slight ability to share the truth.

So, why is this? Well we think that Mark still thinks Lixian can’t escape, but Lixian is simply biding his time to get free from Lunky and Actor’s grasp... still playing along with Actor’s game, but planning to get stronger and plan an attack.

Unfortunately, this state of the upper hand does not last long. In the Forest 3 Peens stream before this, we get another Lunky appearance, with Mark seeing. Combined with the rebellious behavior he sees Lixian have and Lunky now being separate from Lixian, Actor sees that Lixian is not under control again, and realizes he has to take further action.

Breaking the Facade

This leads us to the latest 3 Scary Games: #64 and #65. In these two, some of the last regular appearances of Lixian, we see jumpscares like usual, but these monsters are...different. The spider monster in #64 is much more detailed than any monster we’ve seen before, and in #65, the fake Mark stand-in speaks in a newer type of audio voice effect. And in both of these video outros, Lixian is shown defeating them both with an axe, fighting them off. (not showing images due to arachnophobia that spider is dang scary) This tips us off that these monsters are different than just the typical jumpscares we see in 3 Scary Games - Lixian is deliberately against these monsters. And in BOTH VIDEOS, Lixian is in the same position, asking where Mark is.

This is why we haven’t seen Lixian in videos since this - because he is trapped in an area either by Lunky or Actor, fighting off these monsters and unable to escape while Actor keeps up his facade.

However, despite this, through real life and in canon, Actor’s facade has been breaking to us little by little.

The Reddit banner changing from a Heist promo to a picture of Date Mark a week after MIR.

In the “Teardown” video, Mark is shown with some interesting edits when he goes to shoot a tree - seems normal, but with that font being Lunky’s font and his background being red, this definitely seems like Actor - even the things he says,” You wronged me and it’s only right for me to come to pay back what is due” - seems like he’s projecting anger from the people in his past onto this tree.

Then, even the day after the infamous Cloak promo, we see even MORE allusion through referencing Actor scenarios THREE TIMES in the “Stormwatch” video: once referring to WKM, once referring to the END music and filter from WKM, and a reference to the Warfstache Markiplier interview, which points to Actor from THIS CONVERSATION: “You heard it here first ladies and gentlemen Markiplier has admitted to NEVER KILLING ANYBODY.” “Well I never said that”.

Looking back at the cloak promo for the self love story line, Mark himself has said that the promo featuring him wearing Actor’s robe was a last-minute choice by him, as he was largely involved with the release of this line. Even so, there are certain details that simply can't be ignored. Enter: At Dead of Night Part 1. During the video, Mark just decides that he has to leave the room, glitches out of the room, and after an uncomfortable amount of silence, he jumpscares us after some spooky red light engulfs the room. In this period of time, there are TWO things that separate it from the normal type of jumpscare that would be found when Mark plays a scary game (despite it NOT being 3 scary games video)

1. We see a quick flash of what appears to be Shadow Lix...until we look at the eyes.

This aberration definitely shows signs of Lunky - looking like Lunxian has returned.

2. Mark returns...with the same Cloak shirt that Actor was wearing in the promo over his robe. Probably just promoting the brand, right? Well this video was five days after the promo was released, quite an arbitrary number for just doing an empty reference to the promo, especially since the day of its premiere, February 16, was around the day the Self Love Story line was dying down and not needed to be promoted. And all the while Mark plays, the Actor robe is on the dresser in the background - the first time we've seen it since the promo in the first place.

Even considering the fact that the promo was a last minute choice, WHY would Mark bring it back up again? WHY would he nudge us with the hints to connect the promo to something bigger - unless he WAS planning something a bit bigger.

Other strange occurrences have been happening in bits and pieces throughout other videos. A Lunxian appearance in the Barn Finders episode.

And curiously enough, a jumpscare in a Forest video from a previously used 3 Scary Games video - #62, to be exact, and the only one who has eyes that are similar to Lunky’s.

Combine that with the fact that despite Lixian editing a lot of this video, he doesn’t show up at ALL to being called editor - this is showing that Lixian isn’t in charge of editing the videos - Lunky is in control. And the monsters coming out of the closet is a clear sign of another one of Lunky’s monsters that might have bled through the area between where Lixian is trapped and where Mark is - the 3 Scary Games dimension, if you will.

The Next Plot Step

The next 3 Scary Games videos since this time have clearly been very, very telling of this banishment and kidnapping of Lixian. Let’s go over some of the most important details, namely from #66, #67, and #69.

In #66, we see the latest monster in the line of the three we’ve seen before, such as the spider and the fake Mark; the squid monster fake Mark. This monster says the same things as the last monster: “Your end is near. Your end is here”, with the same font we’ve come to know of Lunky and Lunxian. (first pic #65, second #66)

But this time…Lixian’s axe doesn’t work. Why? Well, as we can see, there’s some kind of…force field.

Of…dark red. HMM…. looks awfully familiar. Even though we’ve never seen it before. Like RED, ARCANE ENERGY. There’s no doubt about it. Lunky, and by proxy Actor, are making the monsters stronger. So Lixian can’t escape.

And as we see in #67...this has seemed to work. As towards the end of that episode…

Lixian is…not doing good. At all. As we see him in an area, a rock or something, coated in red. Lixian is in trouble. It seems the monsters have finally banished him to a place where he cannot fight back, where he cannot tell the truth he knows. The red lighting looks similar to the prison in where Lunky was kept, possibly entrapping him in a prison of his own making.

Interestingly enough, before this, we see Mark’s “monster” thing: his eyes, moving aLLLL around. And the aberration on him is a tad rainbow-y. Could this be an allusion to Lunky, whose power is all about his eyes?

But...the most INTERESTING video was of course, #69...where quite a few things were confirmed. Let’s tackle them in this breakdown linked here, shall we? https://canceltheact.tumblr.com/post/649094311147978752/3-scary-games-69-the-eldritch-resurgence 

We should have you caught up with all of our important findings for now. As you can see, Actor has been playing his games for quite some time. But he’s gotten bold - far too bold, to reveal himself to us like this. And this is where you, dear reader, come into play. It’s not too late to end this game Actor has us in. We, the viewers, give these alternative egos power, and if we refuse to play Actor’s games any further and cancel his acts, we can begin to weaken  and perhaps even eliminate Actor’s grip on the channel. We believe that the time is now. Spread this post if you support it - reblog it, hashtag it on Twitter or Tumblr, use the hashtags #CancelTheAct and #MarkiplierIsntReal. This may be our only avenue to have our voices heard, and to truly unearth what the Actor has been threading together all along.

Chromatic Aberration Appendix (Yay!)

Hey there folks! I’ve decided to do a companion writing on my theory, that explains exactly WHAT chromatic aberration is and why it’s important to the current Mark lore.

Chromatic aberration is the glitchy effect of various colors surrounding words, objects, or people. There are quite a few different types of this aberration, and as they are an important part of this theory, this section is to denote the different types of aberration and what they mean.

“Rainbow” Aberration - This aberration has been used multiple times as a representation for the manipulation of time and reality in order to control someone - we see this used in AHWM as we surge through time using the artifact, and as Warfstache brings us to our proper interview location in time/space. This effect has also been associated with the effects or rewinding of a VCR, as Mark says in his WMW breakdown video when discussing said effect when Warfstache takes Abe back to the disco club to “have a little fun”. And as we have seen in this part of the lore, Actor has used this type of power as well in order to control people’s reality. This aberration, therefore, denotes for those OUTSIDE Actor’s planned story - which is why Warfstache has it (since he has no role), why Lunky has it (because he was created as something to exist outside the story dimension and to fill a role that wasn’t a set role in Actor’s story in the first place) and was used initially, yet unsuccessfully by Actor to control Lixian (because he was working outside his story onto someone who didn’t necessarily have a role)

Heavy Presence of Red Aberration - this aberration, though more of an aura than anything else, indicates the control and presence of Actor, as seen in “Damien” - though this isn’t used too often, it is often used with Lunky’s rise of power, such as in “He escaped...” and at the end of various 3SGs.

Lixian’s Aberration - this combination of dark purple, teal, and greenish blue aberration is present in Lixian’s confession and is a marker of when Lixian is in control - as seen in Lixian’s confession and the “DEAD” picture post on his Twitter.

[randonowrong]

Lost Eyes | Schlatt x Reader

This is my entry for @sugarsoftie​‘s 600 follower special! Again, congrats for the 600 followers! “I can’t believe I used to love you” | Angst | Staring into his eyes, you know he is no longer the one you gave your heart to.

A melody filled the air as people filed into the walls of Manburg. You stood at the sides, welcoming those that came to attend the festival. You shake hands with them as they move to the main section of the festival. As the last of the guests enter, you turn and look over the place. You note the decorations strewn around, set up by Tubbo and Fundy. The colorful balloons and banners making the festival look welcoming and warm. Your eyes trailed to the many booths and stalls open, the vendors preparing their products. You see Niki preparing baked goods by her stall, the smell of freshly made bread wafting through the air. Your train of thought was interrupted when someone put their hand on your shoulder. You flinched in surprise, turning around to face them. 

You breathed a sigh of relief as it was only Tubbo. “Don’t startle me like that! I could have gotten a heart attack Tubs.” You exaggerate, letting out a chuckle. You hear Tubbo giggle too, but he stops as he tries to speak. “Sorry (Y/N), but uh, Schlatt wants to speak you before the festivities all properly start.”

“Ah, what does our dear president want now.” You sigh, nodding to Tubbo in acknowledgment and turning to leave for whatever business Schlatt may have with you.

You were an advisor and cabinet member of L’manburg, no Manburg when Schlatt came to power. Despite not being an original citizen and just a bystander and audience member in the election, Schlatt had decided you were worthy of being part of his cabinet, you think. When the original founder of the country was cast out of his creation, you had opted not to attack and join the ones who smelled blood and attacked, following the orders of the current president.

You took to your assigned task efficiently, you followed through with the decisions made in the cabinet meetings and gave out your thoughts and opinions on the matter. Though you did not fail to notice the glances the president threw at you. When you decided to confront Schlatt about his staring, he had bravely spoken of his interest for you. Stating that your sharp mind and intellect, along with the fact that you were on good terms with most of the people in the smp, were qualities he saw as admirable. You remember your flushed cheeks over the praise, the warm feeling in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach.

But the thing you would never forget would be the look he gave you while you two were alone in his office. His eyes full of desire and passion, for you.

You stop your thought when you arrive at the podium. Schlatt is speaking with his vice-president, Quackity, with a topic you couldn’t quite hear well at the distance you were at. You waited for a few minutes until Schlatt let out an exasperated sigh and walked down the stage, coming to face you. “Ey (Y/N), I’ve been waiting for you my favorite cabinet member” he cackles.

You put a small smile on your face at his words. “That’s nice of you to say, but if I am your favorite then why is Big Q the Vice-President?” you joke, letting out a giggle. “If I were a spectator, I’d point out how it seems you favor him over me.” You continue.

You hear him let out a deep bawl of laughter, which eggs you on to continue your giggling. “Darling, if I didn’t have him as my Vice-President, I wouldn’t be leading Manburg now, would I?” he jested, gesturing into the air.

You let out a chuckle at his statement. “Well, what did you want to speak with me about?” you ask, staring at the horned man in front of you. He begins to compose himself and pats his attire down to make sure he looks presentable. “You remember of my plans for this great country, right?” he asks.

You nod in response. “Schlatt, of course I do, I am actively assisting in the affairs of the state or have you forgotten?” you tease.

“Yeah yeah, well I got some news from a little birdie that someone on my cabinet has been colluding with Pogtopia.” He deadpanned, a steely look on his features. “And I know just how to deal with that little mole.”

“Well, you know how I invited Technoblade to this festival, well I was thinking…why not have him kill our traitor. It’s appropriate! The best warrior of the rebellion striking down their own informant!” he declared, a wicked grin on his face.

“Who…is this mole anyway? I have a sneaking suspicion it is Fundy; his dear old dad is the exiled leader. Or perhaps it’s Niki, she and Wilbur are close.” You put out, gripping your chin in thought.

“Tubbo, the one I made my right-hand man.”

Your face pales, of course that Tubbo would come to the rebels’ aid. Tommy is his best friend; he was willing to do anything for the boy. And with knowing of what Schlatt’s plans are for the kid, you feel dread settle in. How could he think of something so gruesome for the boy?

“You, you can’t possibly be serious Schlatt?!” you shout, mouth agape in shock as your mind races. “He…Tubbo is just a child! You can’t do that to him!” you declare, looking up to glare at the man in front of you.

“And you think that absolves him of his betrayal to Manburg, to me, to US!” he retorted, bringing a hand up in anger to rake through his dark locks. “I know you care about the kid but c’mon, he’s a traitor! You can’t hold any love for him.” He added, before turning to leave and walk up the stage.

“This conversation isn’t over. You can’t walk away!” You grab his arm to stop him, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from him. He turns back around and raises your hand above your head.

“I can, and I will. I’m the president of Manburg. I am it’s ruler, it’s law, and I can do whatever the hell I want!” he shouted in your face. Your eyes widen, this was the first time you and he had ever gotten into an argument. You usually could temper the situation before it escalated, with you reluctantly agreeing into whatever he wanted.

You stare into his dark orbs. These eyes that you once loved, when they playfully glared at you, closed when you let out a joke, and gave a loving gaze whenever you helped in his plans. These eyes now something you feared. A deep darkness threatening to swallow you whole, consume your very essence and force you to submit to its darkest desires. These eyes that no calm you but induce a fear of being the next hurdle to be removed.

You recoil in panic, letting out a soft sob and stare down at the ground. Tears pool in the corner of your eyes as Schlatt let’s go of your wrist. “This is an order, (Y/N), stay in the white house for the rest of the festival. We’ll have a talk after all of this, resist, and I’ll give you a first-row seat to Tubbo’s execution. Got it?” he threatened, turning to walk up the stage. Leaving you to lean your back against the foundation. You let the tears spill out, like a dam finally being opened, your feelings flowed out. Each of your tears holding a fragment of the many emotions you felt. Panic, fear, anger, guilt, pain, betrayal.

“I can’t believe I used to love you…” you mutter out, pulling your knees into your chest and continued sobbing. The noise of the festivities blocking out your wailing.

A/N: I do hope this isn’t a bit too late. I’ve just been not feeling well these past few days. Like...not up to eat, I’m always tired, and not many things get me happy anymore. I dunno, maybe it’s just that seasonal down periods. Anyways, I’m still in the process of writing the headcanon requests but desperately wanted to get this out. Hope you enjoy!

[unrestedjade]

Baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for and that get increasingly queer-navel-gazing and self indulgent because the horrible space goblins have consumed my brain:

- Mobile ears, because if hearing is so well developed and important to them they should be able to aim those big stupid radar dishes. Also because then they can emote with them and that's cute. THE AESTHETIC IS PARAMOUNT.

- Since they canonically sharpen their teeth with chew sticks and sharpeners, their teeth must grow continuously. So I submit: subcultures that let certain teeth grow out as a fashion/political statement. Ferengi punks and anarchists with 5" tusks. Ferengi with all their teeth filed flat (mom and dad HATE it).

- Corollary to the above, most of their teeth are crooked. At the least, they don't share our fetish for straight teeth. What if their teeth are deciduous, and there's no point in trying to force them into perfect alignment, since they'll just fall out and get replaced? So like, sharks but their teeth can also grow longer with no limit. WHAT HAST EVOLUTION WROUGHT ON FERENGINAR :V

- Parents nagging their kids to sharpen their teeth "or they'll grow up into your brain and you'll die :)"

- Personal space? Don't know her.

Okay I need a cut because there's too many now. WHOLE SOCIETY OF GAY HOMOPHOBIC UNCLES AND AUNTS GO I HAVE A PROBLEM

- I can't remember who on here put forth the idea of them having retractable claws but Yes. :3

- Pushing back against the worst canon episode a bit but: relative ear size being the only obvious sexually dimorphic trait, and even that having enough of a gray area that the only way to be 100% sure you're talking to a male or female Ferengi is if you do a blood test. Unless they're intersex! *shrug emoji*

- This is why they're so fanatical about gender conformity and their Victorian "separate spheres" attitude to men and women's roles. Capitalist patriarchy is fragile! And as artificial to Ferengi as it ever was to Humans! (self-indulgenceeeee about gender shiiiiit)

- You know how with domesticated rabbits, the rabbit getting groomed and paid attention to is the boss? Yeah. Go ahead and paint your bestie's nails, just don't be surprised if she cops a little bit of an attitude with you from then on.

- Their fight/flight/freeze/fawn instincts skew heavily toward the last three, and what a lot of other species read as annoying sucking up is the Ferengi in question feeling anxious and unsafe. Especially if they don't feel integrated into the group. Even being at the bottom of the pecking order is better than not being in the flock at all.

- If they DO opt for fight, it's ugly and typically their last resort. Bites or scratches will get infected without intervention-- microbes that their immune system can handle could cause big trouble for aliens. You might wanna check for full or partial teeth that break off and get lodged in the wound, too.

- Too many of these are tooth related but I don't care. :B More teeth stuff: you know what else has teeth that grow constantly? Puffer fish. Likewise, Ferengi can chew up mollusk shells as easy as potato chips, and they need the minerals for their teeth. (Imagine grandpa Sisko offering Nog a crayfish for the first time and watching as he just...pops the whole damn thing in his mouth and crunches away...)

- Their staple foods seem to be grubs and other arthropods, high in protein and fat. I've unilaterally decided their cuisine also involves a lot of edible fungi, ferns, plant shoots and seeds. Gotta get those vitamins. Overall flavor profile leaning toward umami, vegetal, and fresh herbs, and pretty mild (or "delicate" if you wanna be snooty about it, which a Ferengi probably would let's be real).

- Not much sugary food. I'm basing this solely on Quark's aversion to root beer as "cloying". Which could definitely just be his personal preference, but most of the people I hear hating on root beer cite the actual sassafras/sarsaparilla flavor (saying it tastes like medicine) not the sweetness. Nog might be the weirdo outlier for being able to enjoy it.

- Their home planet isn't bright and sunny, so their eyes are better at discerning shades of gray in low light conditions, with relatively weak color vision. Which could explain why they dress Like That.

- Conversely, human music has a reputation for stinking on ice because a lot of it is juuuuust lightly dissonant or out of tune because we can't pick up flaws that small. Ferengi can, and it drives them up the *wall*.

- Music? So many different kinds. Traditionally, maybe lots of percussion and winds, and water as a common component of many instruments to alter pitch or tone. Polyphony out the ass. Some of the modern stuff is an impenetrable wall of sound if you're not a species with a lot of brain real estate devoted to processing sounds. Pick out one melody to follow at a time.

- Yes, back to teeth again I'm sorry. It's a sickness. At some point in their history, pre-chewing food was just something you did for your baby or great grandma as a matter of necessity. Possibly your baby gets an important boost to their immune system and gut biome from your spit. At some point takes on a more formal intimacy aspect and gradually drifted from something all adults and older kids do to something only women do. Your husband and older kids have perfectly functional teeth, but you love them, right? =_= (Think old memes about husbands being useless in the kitchen if little wifey isn't there to cook, but even more ridiculous. Ishka was right about everything but especially this. Thank you for making your family chew their own food, Ishka. Not all heroes wear capes. Or anything!)

- How did they get started on the whole men: clothed vs women: unclothed nonsense? My equally stupid idea: men just get cold easier. Those huge ears dissipate a ton of body heat. Cue Ferengi cliches like "jeez, we could be standing on the surface of the sun and my husband would put on another layer." At some point, again, this got codified and pushed to ridiculous extremes in the name of controlling women and keeping everyone in their assigned box, to the point that women just have to shiver if they really are too cold and men have to pass out from heat stroke if the alternative is going shirtless, because That Would Be Inappropriate.

- Marriages default to five years, but they're also the only avenue for women to have their own household or any stability. Plus their religion places no emphasis on purity save for pure adherence to the free market and the RoA. So, curveball to the rest of their patriarchal bullshit: female virginity isn't a concern in the least. Bring it up and they'll rightly side-eye you.

- Family law is absolutely bonkers and lawyers that specialize in it make BANK. I feel like custody would default to the father usually but oh wait, the maternal grandfather has a legal stake in this, too, and your next father-in-law is asking HOW many kids are you dragging into my daughter's house, etc etc. Growing up with a full sibling is way rarer than growing up with half or stepsiblings, since it usually takes both men and women two or three tries to find someone they vibe with. (Not love, unless you're super cringe.)

- A misogynistic society is a homophobic society. Imo those flavors of shittiness just come in pairs. Homosexual behaviors are fine within certain parameters (aka "always have sex with the boss") but not on your own terms. To add spice, bisexuality is their most common mode (because I'm bi and these are my hcs for my fics I'm not writing, so there), but capitalism demands fresh grist for the mill so you better get het-married and pop out some kids you lowly peons. You have a choice so make the proper one. :)

- Corollary to the above, that doesn't keep all kinds of illicit "we're just friends with quid-pro-quo benefits for realsies" affairs of every stripe and every gender from going on everywhere. Many Ferengi have a lightbulb moment somewhere in early adulthood when they figure out their dad's business partner or the "auntie" who visited their mom every month had a little more going on.

- Plus there's way more gender non-conformity and varying degrees of trans-ing than the powers that be have a handle on. Pel isn't unique, even if most would have to somehow make it out into space to be able to thrive.

Damn a lot of these are just my personal bugbears plus THE GILDED AGE BUT WITH HAIRLESS SPACE RODENTS ain't they

- Women can't earn profit, okay. But lending or "lending" things to each other isn't commerce, riiiiiiight? To be assigned female is to master navigating a vast, dizzying barter/gift economy. Smart boys and men leverage this, too, and there are splinter sects that view this as the purest expression of the Great Material Continuum.

- Of course plenty of women make profit anyway, and just do their bast to dodge the FCA. The tough thing about insisting on using latinum as currency is that cash can be so hard to track, you know?

- Because of the RoA, guys are discouraged from doing favors or giving gifts without setting clear expectation of getting some return on investment. This can twist into an expression of friendship (and of course women do it too), and the ledger will keep cycling between debit and credit among friends for decades. A common mistake aliens make is to tell them recompense isn't needed without explaining why, or return their favor or present with something that zeroes out the debt. The Ferengi will assume you want to break off the friendship. (I cribbed this from dim memories of an African studies course I took in 2007 and whose textbook I know I still have but I can't frigging find it...)

- Flirting, they do a lot of it for a lot of reasons. Roddenberry made it clear that they're just straight up pretty horny, but there's no reason it can't pull double duty for building alliances with other people, smoothing over feuds or disagreements, or cementing friendships. Ferengi who are ace and/or sex-repulsed are possibly viewed similar to the way we'd view someone who's "not a hugger/not big on touching" and if they flirt just don't get offended if it doesn't go any further; aro Ferengi don't garner much comment aside from an occasional "wow how badass, never falling in love with anyone."

- where to even start on making sense of the Blessed Exchequer??? Like seriously, what is this literal prosperity gospel insanity, I need to force myself to re-read Rand and like, some Milton Friedman for this shit. Help.

- fuck I'm probably going to actually do that, RIP me...

[ibijau]

👋🏼 Hello. For writing prompt thing 39. If you haven’t gotten too many of these. NMJ being super dotting on a pretty small baby. Baby could be NHS & LXCs, or NHS & JCs, or NMJ & MYs, 🤷🏼‍♀️

❤️ your writing!

me: aw, that's sweet!

also me: anyway, let's make it angsty

warning for implied trans character, and implied pregnancy of a trans man /o/

Jin Guangyao enters the room to the sound of cooing and meaningless blabber, and freezes on the spot.

His oldest sworn brother, sitting at his desk with a pile of work he ought to be doing, is instead playing with a baby. A very young baby. A month at the very most, going by the size of it… though since Nie cultivators tend to be large, maybe their children are as well, in which case it could be a little younger.

“Is da-ge babysitting?” Jin Guangyao asks, turning to close the door quietly to avoid startling the child.

When he turns again to look at Nie Mingjue, there is no trace left of the earlier softness he displayed while cooing at that baby. Instead, as always when confronted with Jin Guangyao, Nie Mingjue looks somewhat constipated.

“What are you doing here?”

Jin Guangyao startles at the barking tone, which has more bite than usual, even by Nie Mingjue’s standards. It has been a long while since his former sect leader has appeared this angry. They don’t get along anymore, not the way they used to, but Jin Guangyao had foolishly thought they were on the path to… not reconciliation, that would be too much to ask, but a certain understanding at least. There have even been times when he’s thought that Nie Mingjue looked at him with something that might pass for affection, though that always vanishes when their eyes meet, so he might have imagined it.

“Er-ge asked me if I could check on you,” Jin Guangyao explains as he comes to kneel on the other side of the table. Nie Mingjue holds the child tighter against his chest, as if fearing Jin Guangyao might stab it perhaps. Surprisingly, it hurts to be treated with such suspicion, even though Jin Guangyao ought to be used to it by now. “You were absent from that last discussion conference in Lanling, and you have refused all his most recent Night Hunting invitations, so he worries.”

He pauses, and looks at the baby, hit by a sudden doubt he dares not express.

“If da-ge fears that Night Hunting with er-ge will force him to spend time with me, we can make arrangements,” Jin Guangyao offers, pushing down that very ridiculous idea he’s just had. Nie Mingjue would have said something if… at least he would have told Lan Xichen, and nobody keeps these things a secret after the birth, do they? “I am very busy anyway, so I rarely have time to spend with er-ge. You don’t have to avoid him on my behalf.”

“I didn’t avoid him because of you,” Nie Mingjue snaps, his voice rising just enough to startle the baby.

It makes an unhappy noise, like a kitten mewling. Instantly Nie Mingjue’s entire body tenses, before he forces himself to relax and starts rocking the baby in his arms with that gentleness of his which still surprises Jin Guangyao every time he gets to witness it. It makes something go soft in Jin Guangyao’s chest, so soft it almost hurts, especially when he’s always been weak to the sight of fathers caring for their children. His mother used to promise that his own father too would be like that with him, someday, something he foolishly believed for far too long, in spite of how pragmatic he tried to be about other things.

“Is it yours?” Jin Guangyao asks, already knowing the answer.

Nie Mingjue just grunts, dropping a kiss on the baby’s forehead as it starts to calm down.

“I’m surprised you didn’t marry the other parent,” Jin Guangyao says. “Or did you just not think of inviting anyone? I can understand not wanting to see me, but er-ge would be disappointed. Nie Huaisang too, actually. And I know hecan’t have been there, that boy doesn’t know how to keep a secret.”

“There was no wedding.”

Something about Nie Mingjue’s tone startles Jin Guangyao, or perhaps it is the way the other man glares at him, again with more anger than he’s shown in a long while. Jin Guangyao can’t imagine why. It was a legitimate question to ask, he thinks. But then, he realises that perhaps the child came to be in… less than ideal circumstances. Jin Guangyao knows, as few people do, that Nie Mingjue is not like most men, something that he’s been asked (ordered) to keep to himself.

Something cold drops onto Jin Guangyao’s heart, freezing him solid.

He knows, indeed, that Nie Mingjue is a man like few others. He knows it intimately, because his sworn brother once trusted him, before things went sour between them, and because even after their relationship took a turn for the worse, in the early days after the war, there were a few occasions when drink and pent up emotions led to… lapses in judgement. It hasn’t happened in about a year, but…

Well, less than a year, really. More like ten months, more or less, because last time was when Nie Mingjue invited both his sworn brothers for a Night Hunt upon his birthday. They definitely drank too much that time. It wasn’t the only thing they did too much of.

“You should have told me,” Jin Guangyao says, unable to keep the pain out of his voice at this new proof of Nie Mingjue’s disdain for him. “Or… not, it can’t be that,” he adds, regaining control of himself, and bowing politely before his sworn brother. “You wouldn’t have kept it if it were mine. I’m sorry for even suggesting it.”

“If I’d told you, you would have told your father,” Nie Mingjue retorts, taking Jin Guangyao’s breath away, because it means it really is… “And then that old fart would have tried to use it against me. My sect’s safety comes first. Besides, I figured you’d rather not be involved.”

Jin Guangyao wishes it were an unfair appraisal of his priorities, and can’t help but wince at how well Nie Mingjue understands him, at least when it comes to the worst sides of him.

Of course he would have told Jin Guangshan. Possibly, foolishly, out of a hope that his father might mellow a little at the perspective of his first grandson, supposing Nie Mingjue told him before the announcement that Jin Zixuan’s engagement was to be renewed. Maybe also, yes, because there could be political advantage to be gained from this, and if Jin Guangyao can’t have his father’s good opinion out of affection, he’ll try to have it through his usefulness.

Nie Mingjue knows him too well.

And still he bore his child, when there are so many ways to prevent that.

“Why did you keep it?”

“I needed an heir,” Nie Mingjue says, gently rocking the child again, just the way Jin Guangyao now itches to do.

His child. He’s a father, but only because he did the one thing he always promised himself he wouldn’t do, spilled his seed carelessly and never thought twice about the consequences, leaving the details for the other party to figure out.

Like all those men at the brothels his mother worked at.

Like his own father.

“I refuse to believe I’m the only man who could have given you a child,” Jin Guangyao scoffs, clenching his fists over his knees, desperately wanting to reach over the table and beg to hold their child. “You’ve made it more than clear what you think of me.”

“I don’t take just anyone to bed.”

Ah, so that’s it, Jin Guangyao thinks, feeling the cold and heat of rejection. Of course in Nie Mingjue’s position, taking lovers is a delicate affair. Jin Guangyao can’t be what he would still go for, if he truly had a choice, but since he knows already, it was easier to continue like that than look for someone truly worthy of fathering the future sect leader of Qinghe Nie.

“I see. I am sorry da-ge had to settle for this one. And I suppose… no, of course I can’t be involved in the child’s life.”

“You can if you want to,” Nie Mingjue retorts, a strangle glint in his eyes which makes him look almost hopeful.

Hopeful that Jin Guangyao will know his place, no doubt.

And he does, of course. Everyone in the cultivation world has made sure that Jin Guangyao knows precisely what he’s worth to them, with his mother a whore and his father slightly less respected for having recognised him. The stain of his own birth would just be passed down on that child, on Nie Mingjue.

It doesn’t matter what Jin Guangyao wants.

It has never mattered.

“I think it best if I keep my distance,” he lies with a polite smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t interfere with your child’s life, da-ge, and I swear to never act as if I have any right to be part of its life.”

Nie Mingjue’s expression turns dark upon hearing this, which is no surprise. Of course he thinks that Jin Guangyao’s word had little value. He might not even be wrong. But for this, at least, Jin Guangyao intends to keep the promise he’s making.

It’s fine, anyway.

With Nie Mingjue being his sworn brother, he might still catch glimpses of his child here and there if he’s lucky, and watch it grow free from the disgrace of being descended from a whore.

[costellos]

author’s note: I like to think that this takes place shortly after the gang realizes that they’re in love! I also wanted to take a more harem route on this (bc this blog is all about self indulgence, duh) so there are more mentions of the boys getting jealoooous ꉂ(´艸`●) anywho, I had a blast writing this and I hope you have a blast reading it!!

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang & how you know that they’re in love!

bruno bucciarati.

tries not to make it obvious that he’s assigning more missions with you. Bucciarati tries to sprinkle in assignments where you work alone when he can; those days, he’ll tag along in the car just to spend a little more time with you. this infuriates Fugo to no end.

(you can’t help but notice Fugo being unusually snarky at most everything Bucciarati says during the ride.)

he starts to ask for your opinion on how to handle new missions. part of it is because he genuinely values your take, part of it is to spend time alone with you. ↳ “ah... I see. you make a valid point there. I’m glad that I came to you first, you always have such valuable insight.”

Bucciarati had always requested an update after a mission’s completion, but recently, those conversations seem to go longer. he asks more details about the mission, if there was anything interesting about it. if you mention you got hurt, he’ll ensure you get the best care Italy has to offer.

like a true gentleman, he always makes time to walk you home at night. you live on the opposite side of time from him, and despite your protests, he insists that it’s fine. ↳ “please, [Name]. I’d rather do this than wake up tomorrow to find that something happened to you.”

sometimes old ladies will giggle if they see you and Bucciarati on walks together. if you ask what they think is so funny, they’ll comment that it’s so nice to see him finally making time for relationships.

he’s smooth about brushing them off, however. he calls you a good friend, but subtly hints that he’s interested in entering the dating world.

unofficial first date: he takes his time walking you home after a meeting. casually suggests that you should walk along Naples’s port. after all, it’s a warm summer night. why waste it? he would let you carry the conversation since he loves hearing your voice, and would only chime in as he sees fit. you note that throughout the entire night, Bucciarati has a smile on his lips.

leone abbacchio.

obviously not as rude as usual. he’ll still make snippy comments at you as he sees fit, but he also offers praise (a concept that you’re not quite used to yet). with enough time, those snippy comments turn into teasing. ↳ “jesus, [Name], you want three shots? was Mista really that unbearable to partner with this week?”

once that happens, he’ll direct his comments to the others. he’s ruthless when it comes to insulting the others’ attempts at wooing you (especially if it’s Giorno). Narancia will be the first to object, calling him out on trying to impress you too.

he’ll just shrug when this happens. it’s not his fault that their motives are so apparent.

anyway, Abbacchio has always been the type to put the mission before anything else. but during a particularly rough stand battle, you notice that he made the extra effort to guarantee your safety. though you do try to confront him, he brushes it off. ↳ “we wouldn’t have been able to advance without you. fight harder next time so I don’t have to save your ass again.”

you can’t help but notice the slight pink on his cheeks. caught red-handed, it seems.

if you’re going on a mission by yourself, Abbacchio will take the time to stop you and wish you good luck. brief and straightforward, nothing too fancy.

he’s willing to do things if you ask. before he’d tell you to ask someone else, but now... he might scoff or sigh or do nothing at all, but he’ll still accept.

surprisingly, he becomes the most comfortable to be around when things get quiet. Abbacchio is a firm believer that strong relationships don’t need to have mindless chatter. if you don’t have anything to say, he won’t push it, and that’s okay. no awkward silences will come from him.

unofficial first date: he invites you back to his place after a meeting. it’s raining and he doesn’t live far. he would make you any drink you fancy, but would be especially amused if you requested alcohol. it’s a casual affair; talk a little, watch some TV if that’s your thing. would let you stay the night if you wanted to! he wouldn’t make it weird, though. he’d just make his bed for you while he takes the couch.

giorno giovanna.

he starts talking to you more than anyone else in the gang. you took Giorno as the kind of person who won’t speak unless spoken to during moments of peace, so to have him casually start conversation with you feels... odd. but not uncomfortable.

he’s not fond of fighting for your attention amongst the gang. hence, he tries to make small yet meaningful impressions on you. he’ll order your usual at Libeccio if you’re running late (you didn’t even tell him what it was, he picked up after countless meetings) or leave you your favorite dessert at your doorstep on your days off (he remembered it from an off-hand comment).

on that note, Giorno starts leaving little things around for you, such as a single flower on your desk. small gifts that he knows would make you happy, even if for a moment. he himself gets happy thinking about your smile.

he would compliment you if he found it appropriate (usually for your fighting), but now he compliments you on everything. just in quieter ways. ↳ “you coordinated this plan flawlessly, [Name]. I truly wonder if there’s anything you can’t do.”

surprisingly, he also starts teasing you. nothing major, he just starts being more friendly toward you. his nonchalant exterior melts for something more familiar. ↳ “you must really like the rain. that’s the third time this week you’ve forgotten an umbrella. it’s alright, though, I brought one for the both of us.”

he’s honestly a pro at handling Abbacchio’s accusations. he plays it cool, saying that you’ve both gotten closer lately. he emphasizes the “closer” part, though. it might be considered sadistic on his part, but he enjoys watching his superior get annoyed.

(which, of course, irritates Abbacchio a lot.)

unofficial first date: he asks you to accompany him to his campus; apparently his school has rare frog species in the bio labs and he needs to observe it “for reference.” walks you through the biology department and shares what he knows about each species present. he loves amusing you with neat little fun facts, but he loves seeing your face light up at the cute little creatures more.

guido mista.

he’s the first to compliment you. about anything, really. how well your new shirt fits you, how your skin looks a little brighter today. all of it is genuine, and all of it is to see you smile just from something that he said. Giorno comments that he’s being overbearing.

(he retaliates by saying that there’s no harm in being nice to another teammate. Mista tries to be nonchalant about it, but he’s actually embarrassed that he’s that easy to read.)

he’ll follow you around everywhere. if you say that you’re going to run to the corner store before the meeting starts, he’ll tag along. if you mention you’re going to Chiaia this weekend to go shopping, he’ll casually mention that he’s going there too and that you should meet up.

the Pistols start paying more attention to you. they’ll dance around your shoulders, play on your hands — anything to get your attention. Mista gets flustered when this happens and barks at them to come back. ↳ “oi, what the hell do you think you’re doing?! leave them alone!”

this rarely works, though.

(Mista never even gets the chance to confess that he loves you. the Pistols do it before he can. because of that, he would likely be the first to confess to you.)

he’s a sucker for pop culture. if he hasn’t watched it, he’ll tune in to any movie or TV show that you like. he’s desperate to get closer to you so there really isn’t a downside to this, even if he doesn’t like it. he’d then talk about it to you, discussing plot elements and whatnot. ↳ “whaaaa? okay, okay, okay. back up. so he purposely killed himself to force his kids to come together?”

unofficial first date: the most traditional out of the gang. he asks if you want to join him to watch a movie starring your favorite actor / actress. would pay for your ticket too, obviously. he tries to play it cool, though! just going as two friends.... yeah...... friends...... he won’t pull any funny business but he’d love to discuss your thoughts on the movie afterwards.

narancia ghirga.

Narancia is the most obvious about his feelings for you outside of Mista.

for one thing, he starts saving a seat for you next to him at Libeccio. Narancia gets defensive if anyone tries to take it. Bucciarati has to intervene by asking him to stop and let you sit wherever you want preferably next to Bucciarati himself.

likewise, he sits really close to you. like, shoulders-almost-touching close. he’d back away if you ask, however.

he’s bad at taking criticisms from the others (he would be the worst if it wasn’t for Fugo). if he gets called out by Bucciarati, he’ll sink in his seat and pout. if anyone else does it, he’ll challenge them and call them hypocrites. it’s an uncomfortable situation.

when that does happen, he’ll scoff and say that you should leave with him. ↳ “ugh, I can’t stand this place. c’mon, let’s go somewhere else.”

he’ll invite himself to your missions if he can beat Mista to it. insists that you need backup and that Aerosmith can guarantee your safety. after all, his stand is meant for detecting threats.

if he does manage to tag along, you notice that Narancia starts showing off during missions. not only does he fight more aggressively, he also has Aerosmith do all sorts of flashy moves.

he looks up to you so much. he sees you as a role model of sorts, often thinking what you would do in certain scenarios. it helps him rationalize situations and keep his cool under pressure. ↳ “okay. relax. what would [Name] do...?”

unofficial first date: he asks if you’d like to see something cool after shopping for snacks post-meeting. from there, he leads you to the rooftop of a nearby residential building. it’s a struggle to get up there since you have to climb an array of pipes and balconies to reach it, but he helps you up. it’s quiet on the roof, and you can peacefully talk about life with nothing but a couple sodas and the stars above you. 

pannacotta fugo.

always volunteers to drive you to your missions. any more time with you is time well spent. Mista catches onto this quickly and will promptly tease him anytime Fugo offers a ride.

on that note, he gets really defensive if someone teases him about wanting to spend more time with you. hands down, he’s the worst at handling others calling him out. it might trigger an outburst regardless if they were joking or not.

oddly enough, however, he immediately relaxes if you so much as clasp his shoulder. part of it is that your touch is so gentle he can ease up. part of it is he’s embarrassed for losing control in front of you. he gets flustered afterwards. ↳ “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. let’s move on.”

he’s more patient with you than the others. he hates repeating himself, but you notice that he doesn’t seem to make an issue when it comes to you (much to Narancia’s chagrin).

if you’re going on a mission by yourself, Fugo makes the effort to stop you before you head out. he’d ask that you be careful and that if you need any help to let him know. however, he tries to cover that up and say that he knows you’re capable.

likewise, he’s a lot more doting on you now. he’s the first to check up on you following a mission. if you’re hurt, he wouldn’t hesitate to tend to you (not before chastising you). ↳ “tch. I told you to be more careful, and this is how you respond? you really are hopeless... but I’m glad that this cut isn’t anything major.”

he detests how the others act around you. how Mista and Narancia are always inviting themselves to your missions, how Bucciarati is quick to walk you back home, how cool Abbacchio is around you despite his own feelings... Fugo wishes he could be more forward with you, but he knows that’s just not who he is.

unofficial first date: he asks you to accompany him to the archives of a library. it’s for “research” he claims, to look up something relevant for the next mission. he would show you all the dumb records that the library contains. he loves sharing something so small with you! but he loves it even more when he can make you laugh. feeling something other than anger is an event he can only experience with you.

[asthmark]

❝ cute ❞ n.yt

synopsis → he stays quiet and you kick yourself for being so confident. you didn’t know if yuta was the playful flirting type but then again, you didn’t know much about him at all.

word count → 3.2k

a/n → on today’s episode of ‘it’s 2 a.m. and i’m writing a fic nobody asked for while the limitless album plays on a loop’ :)))))

you tapped your mechanical pencil against your desk, focusing on the rhythm you were making with it rather than the assignment your teacher had handed out. you directed your attention to ms. lee only to find that she was staring off into space, clutching her ‘world’s best teacher’ mug tightly, as usual. which worked for you. of course, her irresponsible behavior made you worry for the state of the educational system but realistically, you had no intentions of actually working and the longer she spent in her head, the longer you could avoid it. you hated to admit it but the time you spent in her fourth period class was usually wasted.

you shifted your gaze to the red haired boy sitting in front of you. nakamoto yuta. you never talked to yuta. sure, you wanted to hold a real conversation with him at least once because of all the rumors surrounding him and his mysterious nature but your interactions were always limited to asking for pencils and answers—which reminded you.

you tap his shoulder. he jolts and you figure he was taking one of his infamous in-class naps. he slowly turns to face you with his brown eyes that were the same color as the lukewarm coffee sitting in ms. lee’s mug. his eyelids are slightly droopy, only confirming the fact that he had been snoozing.

“is class over?" he asks, his voice slightly raspy.

“in a couple minutes, yeah. but here’s your pencil back,” you say, and you notice he smiles slightly when he takes it from you.

that was new. you figure that you could take advantage of him being in a good mood and keep the conversation alive. “i’m surprised you didn't snap at me for tapping it the entire class.”

his smile widens, shocking you even further. “are you kidding? i’m sure your pencil tapping is music to the ears in comparison to all my snoring.”

“oh, c’mon, it’s cute,” you respond.

he stays quiet and you kick yourself for being so confident. you didn’t know if yuta was the playful flirting type but then again, you didn’t know much about him at all.

the bell rings and you can’t seem to pack your things up fast enough. you can feel the boy’s gaze on you but you avoid making any eye contact. as you swing your backpack over your shoulder and speed walk to the door you realize that maybe you should’ve stuck to keeping your interactions with yuta limited.

when you drop your lunch tray on the table as you take a seat, joy and jinsoul put a pause on their conversation about the obvious affair between mr. son and mrs. jeon to greet you.

“hey girl,” jinsoul says, offering you a smile.

joy waves. “how was your fourth period? it’s history right?”

you nod. “it was pretty uneventful. until the end.”

your friends lean forward. “oh really?” asks joy.

“do you need to vent or something?” jinsoul adds.

you can’t fight back your smile. “what a polite way to ask for gossip. you two are getting better at it, you know.”

they laugh. “well, we try.” your best friends were known for knowing. they were sure to have the scoop in everything that went on around campus and they were quite proud of it.

“well,” you continue. “you guys know yuta right?”

jinsoul squeals at hearing his name. she apologizes once she takes notice of you and joy’s unamused stares. “my bad, i get excited whenever i hear a boy’s name.”

“wait, did you talk to him or something? like full conversation?” joy interjects, trying to get the details (as per usual).

“i’m sure we could’ve talked longer if i hadn’t flirted with him,” you mumble but jinsoul and joy hear you loud and clear. they immediately begin talking over each other. from what you catch jinsoul is proud of you for “making moves” while joy can’t seem to wrap her head around the fact that you actually spoke to the mysterious nakamoto yuta.

“guys, please. keep it down,” you plead. “i blew it, anyway.”

they become silent to ask, “how?” in perfect unison.

“well i said his snoring was cute and he just... didn’t respond after that,” you admit, cringing at the memory.

“you complimented his snoring?” joy asks.

“i was just trying to break the ice,” you sigh, burying your head in your hands waiting to be scolded by your friends for your lack of conversational skills.

“that’s not even that bad!” joy exclaims.

jinsoul nods. “i agree. it’s a little weird but... it’s unique! you probably stand out to him now. and that’s good.”

“but he didn’t even say anything after,” you whine.

“well how would you respond to someone telling you your snoring is cute?” joy interrupts, raising a brow.

it takes a moment for you to respond. “thank them, guess?”

“you gotta remember this is yuta we’re talking about. he isn’t the most expressive person ever,” jinsoul says.

joy agrees. “ever since that sicheng guy left to go back to china he’s kind of closed himself off. they were really close.”

you sigh. “he’s seemed so sad after that. i think he just needs a new friend. i want to be that for him. i mean, i would want someone to do the same for me if you guys suddenly left.”

jinsoul smiles at you, emphatically. “don’t worry, y/n. i have total confidence in you.”

“maybe if i hadn’t been so awkward i would too,” you say, dejectedly.

“well, judging by the way he keeps looking over here i’d say you're fine," joy comments, nonchalantly.

you freeze and stare at her dead in her eyes. “are you being serious right now? he’s looking over here?”

joy simply nods, poking at her salad.

you turn to jinsoul for confirmation. “jin? is she lying?”

jinsoul’s subtly eyes dart from you towards the back of the cafeteria and you see how they light up. “oh my gosh, no. she’s so right. wow, he’s really not hiding it at all.”

“so, your comment about his snoring really worked, huh?” joy teases. “i’m gonna have to start using that. ‘hey johnny, i love the way you snore. it’s so nasally and cute.’ how was that, y/n?”

you play along, chuckling and giving her a thumbs up.

later that day, all the talk of yuta has been forgotten and the three of you move on to focus on studying for the upcoming chemistry test. you find yourselves in your bedroom, taking diligent notes and reading report after report.

“i’m going to jump out the window,” joy announces, dropping her highlighter to massage her temples.

“is that your way of saying you want to stop studying?” you ask, your eyes never leaving your annotated text.

joy nods then dramatically collapses on your bed.

“a little break wouldn't hurt,” jinsoul agrees.

“you guys down for pizza?” you suggest.

“ooh yeah, that actually sounds so good right now,” joy comments from her spot on your bed.

“we had pizza last week!” jinsoul complains as she closes her notebook.

“it’s brain food, jin,” you say, giving her a serious look as you dial the pizza place’s number.

she rolls her eyes. “sure. just get me a slice of pepperoni.”

“i want cheese!” joy exclaims.

“got it,” you say, placing your phone on your ear. after two rings and a half they finally pick up.

“hello, may i take your order?”

“can i get a large pizza? one half pepperoni and the other half cheese.”

for some reason, the pair sitting on your bed has begun to giggle and you shoot them a glare, signaling for them to pipe down. but they don’t seem to care and their laughter only intensifies as jinsoul scribbles something onto a piece of paper.

“drinks?” the worker on the other line says.

“a, uh, two liter coke, please.”

“will that be all?”

suddenly, joy has begun waving frantically, stealing your attention away from the employee on the phone. she shakes her head vigorously and jinsoul mouths ‘no’ over and over.

assuming that’s what they want you say, you answer, “um... no?”

your friends smile, clearly happy with your response. then, jinsoul flips the notepad and reveals to you what has been written.

send your cutest delivery guy :)

you freeze, realizing that’s your next line. reluctantly, you say it. “actually, could you please... send your cutest delivery guy?”

jinsoul shoots you a big thumbs up and joy nods indicating she was satisfied.

the person over the line chuckles. “i’ll see what we can do. anything else?”

“nope, that’ll be all.”

once you’ve told her your address, all that’s left to do is wait. none of you bother trying to continue your study session because you’re too busy making up scenarios, the excitement of this ‘cute delivery guy’ getting to the three of you.

“so, if he’s insanely good looking... then what?” jinsoul asks, eyes filled with hope.

“then we get his number,” joy says, giving her a ‘duh’ look.

the blonde stares at her, incredulously. “there’s three of us, joy.”

“sharing is caring,” responds joy as you suggest, “ask him if he has any friends.”

you and joy laugh at your overlapped answers and how different they are.

“and what if he’s insanely old?” jinsoul continues.

you crack up at the question. joy shoves her shoulder, playfully.

“it could happen!” jinsoul defends. “have you guys never watched catfish?”

“i promise you, it’s not that serious,” you say, laughing. “he’s just delivering our pizza.”

“yeah and besides, you guys are totally not asking the important questions,” says joy. “what if he’s ugly?”

the three of you sit in silence, trying to contain your laughter before you speak up.

“well... then at least we got the pizza.”

when the doorbell rings, you all dash down your stairs so fast anyone else would think there was a fire in your room. you crowd against the door but jinsoul stands on the tips of her toes to see through the peephole.

her voice comes out breathless. “oh my god.”

“what is it?” you ask as you try to shove her out of the way.

being the tallest out of the three of you, joy is able to easily peek through the glass at the top of the door. you can only watch her jaw drop.

“no way!” she exclaims.

you whine. “guys, if you’re not gonna move at least tell me what the big deal is!”

your friends share a look that morphs into sly smiles and your confusion only grows. your doorbell rings again, the person standing behind it obviously growing impatient. joy swings the door open without hesitation and you suddenly understand their strange behavior.

there stands nakamoto yuta in all his glory.

he sports a red polo button up with the logo of the pizza place over his chest and a pair of khakis. the cap he wears is also apart of his uniform but he’s placed it on backwards, tufts of his ginger hair peeking out from underneath. he has failed to notice you since his eyes are so focused on reading the receipt in his right hand.  

“i’ve got a large pizza, half pepperoni and half cheese and a two liter coke. here in the notes it says you asked for the ‘cutest delivery guy’ but i was the only one on duty so... i hope you’re not too dissappoin—wait, y/n?” he has finally looked up and his shock cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

you smile, awkwardly. “hi yuta.”

he raises a brow. “you ordered this?”

you nod. “um, yeah. i didn’t know you worked at a pizza place.”

he shrugs, sheepishly. “i know it’s nothing glamorous but it’s something. i’m just trying to save up as much money as i can right now.”

“well, good for you,” you say, genuinely.

he stares up at you, his lips curving up into a small smile and you mirror the expression.

“okay.” joy drags out the word, dramatically. “jinsoul and i are gonna head out now. catch you guys later!”

“i think we can stay and have one slice of—ow! what’d you pinch me like that for?”

“we’re leaving,” joy says, through gritted teeth.

joy excuses herself and jinsoul unwillingly follows before they walk out your front door, not even bothering to grab their stuff from upstairs.

you clear your throat, resenting how painfully bad your friends were at acting. “so, uh, how much?”

“it’s on the house.”

you fold your arms, teasingly. “that seems too good to be true.”

yuta smiles and you realize it has not once left his face. “maybe it is.”

you lean against your doorframe. “what’s the catch?”

“i get to eat this pizza with you,” he responds.

his boldness stuns you into silence. nakamoto yuta wanted to spend time with you?

“you can definitely say no,” he adds, sensing your shock. “and i’m extremely sorry if i overstepped.”

you can’t seem to shake your head fast enough. “no, no, no! i would really like that.”

you swear you see a relieved smile appear on his face. “oh, good. i mean, your friends just left and i would hate for you to eat alone, you know?”

you can hardly contain your happiness at the fact that yuta was just as bad an actor as joy and jinsoul. “well, that’s an offer i just can’t refuse.” you step aside so he can enter your house.

“nice place,” he comments, looking around.

“thanks. um, you can just set that over there if you want.” you point towards your kitchen.

yuta obeys, placing the food on your dinner table. he takes a seat and you quickly grab plates and cups for the two of you. not even a minute later you’re both stuffing your faces with food.

“how can you work around stuff this good and not be craving it every second?” you ask him, wiping your face with a napkin.

“seeing how much grease they dump into this helps kill the craving,” he says, honestly. “besides, i don’t really like pizza that much.”

you opt to ignore the first part and motion to the half eaten slice on his plate. “looks like you like it.”  

he shakes his head. “trust me, the only thing i like here isn’t the pizza.”

you want to take his comment as a compliment but you didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. besides, you were starting to get used to his bluntness. “you know, we haven’t talked much but i can just tell you’re an open book.”

he smirks, not agreeing nor disagreeing. “well, most people don’t know a thing about me. i’m just the strange japanese guy. how do you see me?”

you tilt your head, staring at him deeply. “i see you as someone who knows his likes and dislikes. doesn’t seem like you’re one to hold back.”

“i could the same about you. not just anyone points out someone else’s snoring, much less calls it cute. that takes guts.” the smirk on his face grows at seeing you bury your head in your hands.

“oh god, i don’t know what i was thinking. if you could just erase that from your brain it would be greatly appreciated. i’d rather not seem like a dork to you.”

“well, i liked it. no one says that type of stuff to me especially since i’m kind of...” he trails off, brushing his bangs out of his face. “i’m kind of reserved.”

you nod. “i’ve noticed. to be honest, i’ve always wanted to get to know you for that exact reason. i’m glad you’re letting me.”

he looks up at you. “seriously?”

“yeah. everyone thinks you’re this big ‘mystery’,” you make air quotes, “but i’ve always just thought you were interesting. from what i’ve gathered, you’re a really good guy. everyone should give you a chance.”

it takes him a moment to respond. “wow, you think that? that’s... very nice.” he takes a sip of his coke but you sense he’s not finished speaking so you wait. “you know, it’s been a while since someone has given me a chance.”

you frown. “well it’s their loss.”

he chuckles. “you remind me of sicheng.”

you freeze. you knew this was a sensitive topic.

“i mean you’re both so different but... similar?” he shakes his head. “i dunno. maybe it’s how transparent you are. and you’ve got really big hearts too. it only shows with certain people but for some reason, you both show it with me. because you both see me for who i am.” 

“sicheng sounds wonderful,” you say but you secretly relish in the way he sings your praises.

“he is. i miss him. you know i think about moving to china a lot. or even back to japan. just anywhere away from here.”

you try your best to hide your disappointment. “what for? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“i don’t really know. i just want to feel a sense of belonging. i don’t have that here. that’s why i picked up this job, to save up for an escape in case it all gets to be too much for me.” he sighs. “it’s stupid to run from my problems, i know.”

“i don’t think it’s stupid. i mean, firstly you’re a foreigner coming to an entirely new country and school. then you meet someone and form a bond only for him to leave. you close yourself off a little but who can blame you? it’s tough. you’ve been through a lot.”

he smiles, proudly. “this is exactly what i mean. that’s something sicheng would have said. it would have probably been in chinese and way more aggressive but essentially the same thing.”

“really?” you run a hand through your hair. “wow, he must be insanely wise then.”

yuta laughs at your self praise. “did i forget to mention that you’re both extremely humble?”

you pensively tap your chin. “hm, might’ve left that one out.”

he nods. “must have.”

you fiddle with your fingers. “okay, this may be super random and i may be completely out of line but i, uh, hope you stay.” he only offers you a half smile so you continue. “i mean, it’s totally your decision but i feel like i’m finally getting to know you after so long and i really enjoy your company. i could introduce you to a couple of my friends and i could add you into our group chat. and we could sit together at lunch! we could even like partner up for projects and stuff and—“

“i would love that,” he interrupts. his voice comes out so soft it’s almost a whisper. it’s like he’s been waiting for this exact moment for his entire life, like you just took the words out of his mouth. “oh god, i’ve been wanting this.”

“really?” your voice comes out way louder than intended. “sorry, i’m excited.”

“and i’m the cute one,” he says, referencing your comment from earlier once again.

“when will you let that go—wait, what do you mean by that?”

he stands, grabbing both your plates and cups and making his way towards the sink. “catch up! you’re cute! actually, i think you beat sicheng in that aspect.”

you put a hand over your heart. “you don’t know how much of an honor that is.”

he chuckles, shaking his head. “i can’t believe i have such a huge soft spot for such a huge dork.”

“wait, am i the dork?!”

“oh my god, you have got to catch up!”

[floreleine]

I would love to hear more about the ScarletMay part of the story where Madeleine jumps between Florence and Scarlet! Doesn't have to be a full story, i know you're not doing longfics at the moment, but maybe just a few headcanons?

Ohh, I thought about doing the same thing and just writing down some backstory ideas as headcanons, but - once I started writing, this just happened! So, thanks very much for the prompt, anon, thx to you this turned into an entire Thing xD I'll probably post at least two more Floreleine and ScarletMay parts, possibly a Killercule epilogue, we'll see!

Prequel Fic Part 1

Part two starts exactly where part 1 left off, just with a POV change from Madeleine to Anna May!

1k, G, no warnings

"Scarlet?" Anna May asks in shock when she sees the woman in the library foyer.

She had heard loud voices and expected needing to break up a skirmish or help Madeleine and Florence shoot some people - and indeed, Madeleine has a gun aimed at the visitor, but instead of some rogue robber, this woman is no-one Anna May would ever want to kill.

Not even after she left her for a man who didn't even let her be together with Anna May at the same time, after she had already said that she wouldn't mind sharing.

And look where that had gotten her. All alone back in the library, probably having been left by the guy who hadn't wanted to share her...

As Anna May steps into the room and slowly walks up to the others, waving for Madeleine to put her weapon down (she does lower it, but not by much), Anna May is half of a mind to tell Scarlet 'I told you so'. But she looks like enough of a mess, and - bloody hell, she's carrying an infant in her arms.

"Anna," Scarlet says weakly when Anna May is standing next to Madeleine at the side of the desk. "I - sorry -" she sways the child in her arms a little when it starts to cry again. "I'm sorry for just showing up, but I've nowhere else to go - I'm not asking for you to take me back! I'd never expect, after what I've done..."

Next to her, Anna May rather feels than sees Florence and Madeleine share a look at that new bit of information. Anna May had never told them about Scarlet, at least not in so many words - they had noticed that she had been seeing someone, but only when the relationship had already been breaking apart again, and Anna May had called it 'nothing but a fling gone wrong', saying that this was only renewed proof that she wasn't a person made for the dating world, no matter that Florence and Madeleine had made it work, ruining her 'cant date in our line of work' excuse.

"But - can you let me stay? Just for a while, just until I've found my footing again - until I'm sure they aren't also after me and Samantha..."

Anna May freezes. She had expected that Scarlet's relationship had just turned sour, but -

"He's dead? The guy you've been seeing?"

Scarlet shivers a little. "Yes. Killed."

Anna May doesn't know whether to feel sorry for her or to be frustrated in the knowledge that if he'd still be alive, Scarlet would have probably never come to see her again, would have stayed together with her happy little family. She doesn't know what to say.

"This is Samamtha, then?" Madeleine asks in her stead, finally putting her gun back into its holster and stepping forward to get a look at the baby. "Oh, she's cute! It's been a while since I've been around any children, but aren't they usually... wrinklier when they're this little? This one looks like a fully formed human!"

"...that's only when they've just been born," Scarlet explains. "Samantha's over three months old."

Anna May can't even stop herself from doing the mental math, her mind too systematic, too used to analysing everything around her.

Four months - nine months over a year total -

"You were already..."

Scarlet winces, clearly following Anna May's train of thought. "Yes... You knew I was seeing him, it was supposed to just be casual sex... But Samantha happened, and... I wanted her to know her father. And he -"

Anna May is a little frightened when she sees tears in Scarlet's eyes. But right, her boyfriend - husband? - the father of her child has just died.

"he was a good man," Scarlet sniffs. "I really do love him. I would have stayed with the both of you if I had been able to, but he wasn't someone used to sharing, and - and with Samantha - that just made my decision for me, I'm so sorry -"

"No," Anna May interrupts her, surprised about herself, surprised how much she means her next words. "That actually makes it better. To know why you... Fuck. And yes, sure you can stay."

"You will have to get used to cursing less, if you are going to be around a child a lot now," Madeleine says, staring at said baby like it is a particularly interesting, rare and precious artefact. For her, who always liked children and never had the chance to be around them much, it probably is just that. At least they won't have to worry about looking for another babysitter...

Anna May flinches a little when she notices how far she has been planning ahead. Scarlet might not even stay that long - just to get her affairs in order - and would she even want her to stay?

Snap.

All three of them flinch a little, but it is just Florence who is closing the latches and locks on the library doors. "Figured if she's staying, we'll take today off to get her settled."

Madeleine nods and smiles brightly first at Florence, then at Scarlet and the baby.

Scarlet gives Florence an awkward half-smile as well before turning back to look at Anna May, waiting for her decision.

"Yes, sure," Anna May says, having to force herself to meet her eyes. "Like I said. You can stay."

~

Scarlet's answering smile is so soft, Anna May instantly knows that now that she has her back in her life, there is no way she will want her to leave again.

Part 3

Still taking prompts!

Might not be so quick in answering all of them anymore now as I've got other things going on as well, but I'd still enjoy you guys giving me some inspo!

Also lmk if anyone wants to be tagged when this updates! I won't tag my entire usual GM taglist for each little ficlet, espesh not follow up parts, so you'd have to let me know individually

[hornime]

hq as my discovery weekly | part one

warnings: this is completely sfw, combo of fluff and angst

characters included: kenma, akaashi, oikawa, suna, koganegawa, ushijima, bokuto, kuroo, hinata, kita, terushima, iwaizumi, osamu, kageyama, sakusa

a/n: this was a random idea i thought of but i think it’ll be really cute haha. maybe you guys’ll find some new songs in the process! totally encourage anyone to use this idea if they want cus this was super fun to write!

playing... one through fifteen / sixteen through thirty

↪ “cotton candy lemonade" by blu detiger: kenma kozume

i've been up too long, something's wrong / watch the rising sun / turning all my nights to days

i've been on my own, come find me now / i'm lonely to the bone / but I don't feel so low when you're around / let's run away from home

you'll bе my kaleidoscope, my color in this life / watching thе world fade away

kenma is not the most extroverted and he’s in his head a lot, so he’s someone that might not always see the ‘color’ in things that exist around him. but when it comes to you, well, you’re someone that makes him look up from his screen a little longer than usual.

↪ “love affair” by umi: akaashi keiji

don't overthink this is love / maybe it's just a crush

i hope what I feel is enough / maybe this is just lies

i wanna know how to feel, what to feel, what's right / i never know / 'cause when it gets real, I just run away / and hide from you

akaashi gets anxiety. he used to be certain about a lot of things—his intelligence, his skill, his happiness, but most important to him was his feelings for you. he’s overthinking again, he knows it, but he’s getting an uncontrollable itch that maybe this is all in his head; he doesn’t love you, he just think he does. but when you’re in his arms, breathing even and eyes fluttered shut, he remembers what you always told him: it doesn’t matter what he knows, it matters what he feels. and he feels like the luckiest man alive.

↪ “coke” by iii addicts, danice: oikawa tooru

come closer, i been eyeing you from way over / so it's time i come for some closure

had to let her know that you could lick this / shake it up, it's gonna probably gon' bust

why, tell me why / why am i not satisfied / every time i cross that line / i feel it, i feel it

oikawa feels like tantalus: a man constantly reaching for a goal just out of reach, straining his muscles and screaming his voice hoarse just for a glimpse of an unattainable destiny. he’s desperate to get ahead, and while he may be running at top speed at all times, the finish line doesn’t seem to be getting any closer. his worst fear is that, some time he’ll slow his pace and look back and realize he hasn’t gotten very far at all.

↪ “baby powder” by jenevieve: suna rintaro

i'll put up with you babe / there's somethings I won't take / baby don't feel me false / yeah that turns me off

you're making me so high now / you're everything I'd ever want / you're keeping me so dry now / you're everything I'd never want uh

plastic on the floor but it ain't for me / ima go up to the place that i'd rather be

suna is straightforward. he won’t deal with your bullshit, and he learns that you won’t deal with his either, which makes you so appealing. when he starts letting more and more of you in, he feels you slipping through his fingers. you wanted to be friends, so you treat him as one. he doesn’t remember when he started wanting more.

↪ “chandelier (instrumental version)” by paquin: koganegawa kanji

instrumental so no lyrics lol

koganegawa is bubbly. he’s a bouncer: he bounces between social circles, bounces colors behind his eyes, and bounces back after adversity. he’s an amiable guy, and it’s landed him plenty of friends and opportunities, but best of all, it’s landed him you.

↪ “l-over” by u.s. girls: ushijima wakatoshi

my lover has no heart / magic moving blood around that body / he's cool to the touch / i don't see him much / but when I do, he does nothing for me

can you imagine trying to get / some satisfaction out of a stone?

spare me any talk of your future life / i don't know what I'll do without you

ushijima is stubborn. he’s deadset on achieving his goals for the future, and if you can’t work with them, you better work around them. you’re tired of how he grounds you; you thought it was a blessing at first, having a guy that knew what he wanted and would always act as a constant in your life, but you’ve started to see that he’s not a lighthouse anymore, he’s an anchor. he’s an anchor that’s chaining you to the ocean floor and will drown you if you, even for a second, stop kicking your legs to stay afloat.

↪ “magic!” by リアムMAZE1981: bokuto koutarou

and when you smile at me that way / well you can warm the coldest day / it's magic

and all i have to do is think of you / to make the music start to play / then i dance down the street / and the people I meet stop and say hey hey

and when you want me you just clap your hands / and I'll be with you right away / then we'll float on a breeze / while the leaves in the trees softly say hey hey / magic ways, my friend / you love the girl with magic ways and it's true / i might as well give in

bokuto is bright. he tramps around the world with the light of the sun illuminating his face. there is nothing in the universe that could ever drag him down, especially not with you around. you’ve cast some kind of spell on him, he’s sure of it, because your very presence makes him certain that he’s immortal. he must be, because when he’s with you, he’s withstanding the heat of a thousand suns that erases the darkness in every shadow, corner, and crevice of his life. 

↪ “i hope that u think of me” by pity party (girls club): kuroo tetsuro

i hope that you dream of me baby / nightmares are what dreams are baby i-i-i / i think I'm fallin' out of love

you tell me that it's easy to be / you tell me that it's easy to be with me but you lie-i-i / why do you lie all the time?

kuroo is focused. he takes note of everything when he’s working on a task, down to dotting the ‘i’s and crossing the ‘t’s. he often finds himself with tunnel vision, unable to think of anything but the current responsibility at the top of his every-growing to-do list. somewhere along the way, he lost track of you—must’ve loosened his grip on your hand and your fingers fell through empty space. he’d look for you, back in the void, but he’s busy. he keeps moving, unaware that you’ve turned back, walking in the opposite direction as him to find the life before him that you barely remember.

↪ “the leanover” by life without buildings: hinata shoyo

kiss me, break my mind, close the door / black steel, break my mind, close the door

if i lose you in the street / i say, i say, i say, i say, i say, i say / wassup, wassup with you? / wassup with your friends?

hinata is unfazed. he knows that, when things go bad, there’ll always be something there to right them. so when your paths diverge—maybe your schedules don’t work out, your dates get canceled, your nights home become more and more sparse—he’s not worried. not one bit. because at the end of the night, he knows that you’ll always find your way back to one another, and you’ll always greet him with open arms. and he’ll always do the same.

↪ “ladyfingers - edit” by funding secured: kita shinsuke

instrumental so no lyrics lol

kita is polished. he works hard during the day to be with you at night, dancing in little circles in the small kitchen of your shared home. he looks at you with fondness and appreciation, thanking his stars a million times over for granting him with someone like you. he’s a tree, stable in the harshest of gales, but even trees like to sway with the wind sometimes.

↪ “black madonna” by cage the elephant: terushima yuuji

makes no difference here, so let's be real / black madonna, my black flower / nowhere left to run, nowhere left to hide / you're not havin' fun, i think that you should ride

climb so high, don't hear a sound / don't you forget what goes around, comes around / climb so high, tell me how to feel

call me when you're ready to be real / black madonna, my hallelujah

terushima is hedonistic. he’s never concerned himself with thoughts of the future, or of the past, or of anything, really. all he can think about is making each moment as willing to be lived as possible. you, on the other hand, are practical, too practical in his opinion, and he wants you to let loose, lighten up a little bit. maybe in the long run, it won’t be the best idea to let him take you by the hand and on a midnight adventure, but you haven’t thought that far ahead yet. guess he’s already rubbing off on you.

↪ “mother nature’s bitch” by okay kaya: iwaizumi hajime

everybody / please give a warm welcome to / to this current mood

here i am / easy to please / here i am / okay with it

here i am / desperate for attention / here i am / being mother nature's bitch

iwaizumi is hardworking. he does the best he can with everything he tries; sometimes that amounts to something and sometimes it doesn’t. most times it doesn’t fulfill his expectations, as high as they are. when you’re around, his borderline hatred for himself disappears. when you’re there to tell him how great he’s doing, the tension in his shoulders dissipates. 

↪ “smithereens” by rasharn powell, ab001: miya osamu

found my power / and my brethren / in a tussle with the world itself

see if I’m david, you’re goliath / there’s some power in defiance / put my heart in a slingshot / we been cycling away for days

searching for freedom always / likeness of an orgasm been had / empty with a peace that just don’t last / petite mort, then born again

osamu is pioneering. he opened a small business and eventually branched out, managing chains of his restaurant across the nation. it may not be a flashy job, but it’s a solid one, and a draining one. there are days of back-to-back shifts, afternoons overwhelming catering orders, and nights spent sleeping over on a cot near the kitchen. when he dreams, curled up with the smell of onigri still lingering in the air, he can only think of ‘what if’ he’d chosen another path, a path with a more obvious end, a more obvious definition of glory. but he still wakes up at dawn, conquering his own corner of the sky, knowing that his life, while it may be small, is not insignificant.

↪ “must be” by lou phelps: kageyama tobio

must be the henny on the ice / must be the diamonds that I buy / might be the shit that I write / whatever a n**** do and say, that's what I like

i'm on the cloud as i walk the front door / that's a boost, that's true, that's loo

yeah, um, i'mma need my space / 'cause you's a bum-bum, can't be standing next to me, uh / forgive me for my sins / don't tell me this is wrong if it feels right

kageyama is cocky. he’s good at what he does, amazing, actually, and he sure as hell knows it. he’s surrounded by people that make him better, people that he makes better, and he can’t think of a place he’d rather be. he’s on his way to carve his way into the moon and he’s not going to tolerate anyone that wants to keep him on earth.

↪ “jealous” by eyedress: sakusa kiyoomi

you could have anyone you want / why would you want to be with me? / you know, I'm nothing special

don't tell me about your problems / if you're not trying to solve them / don't ask me for my help

sakusa is independent. he’s not one to see himself as part of someone else’s orbit, opting to act like a random rock, floating in space with no origin and no destination. he’s worried that, if he gets too close to you, he’ll end up getting drawn in by your gravity and either crash land or burn up. neither seems appealing, and the idea of a safe encounter hasn’t even crossed his mind, so he’s going to keep moving on an endless trek towards the stars.

[lxveille]

another love song

mk x reader

word count: ~ 2080 warnings: references to alcohol a/n: university!au; another ‘trying to get back into the feel of writing’ fic so... idk ?? tbh it’s more of a fic treatment but here’s what i’m posting anyway

Minkyun has gotten inspiration for his songs from you before. This one is different.

You’re nearly always the first person to place money into Minkyun’s open guitar case when he’s busking. 

More often than not, he tries to return your money once he’s packed up for the afternoon - but you refuse, and tell him he earned it. Then he usually spends more on you than you gave by buying you bubble tea or coffee before the two of you trek back to campus.

You’re not sure what you’d do with your Saturday afternoons if not for him.

You’d met Minkyun in a literature class your first year of university. At first it had been easy to write him off as a high school class clown having some difficulty adjusting to university expectations. Except that sometimes, when your professor would really dig into the themes of a text, he’d have something to share that would stick with you. A thought - sometimes chaotically explained - that would rumble around in your brain for a week, even. Eventually, you decided a proper introduction was in order. A fatal mistake, if you’d hoped to keep up some aloof, studious front. He had a way of warming others up, it turned out. You discovered he was friends with a number of people with unfriendly faces who somehow transformed into lighthearted, open books in Minkyun’s presence.  

You feel a little lighter around him, too. 

And on the days you don’t, he invites you to unburden. 

It became a common tableau: you sprawled out, exasperated, on the beanbag chair in his dorm room, ranting about anything that bothered you while he lay on his bed, half-propped up against the wall and strumming occasional notes on his guitar. A last complaint and a final chord, and then Minkyun would be on his feet with an idea of what the two of you should do to shake it out of your system for once and for all. Those plans only sometimes included just enough beer that the both of you were giddy and ready to laugh at anything. 

If Minkyun had to name one good reason to get drunk with you, it was this: it was the only time you’d sing. The very first time you let yourself break into song in front of him had been at a bar. It had been difficult to make out your voice over the speakers, but Minkyun heard. Maybe more important, though, was the way you swayed your shoulders and rocked into each syllable. 

He would tease sometimes that you ought to join him when he busked. He might make more with you joining in. 

“Ah, but then you’d have to split it with me, too,” you’d reply. You assumed, at least, that he must be kidding. 

It was spring the first time Minkyun asked you to listen to something original he’d composed. There was something personal about it that had never occurred to you when listening to a song before. For all the times you had watched him play, it was like looking at him from a new angle. Just as his commentary used to linger on your mind, his songs began to do the same.

 And in the winter of your second year, he asked if it’d be okay to use some of your own rants as inspiration in songs. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Just - the way you talk about the guys you’re getting over, and stuff like that. It could make for good lyrics.” 

“You’re going to quote me?”

“Well,” he lingered on the syllable, then broke into a dimpled smile. “No. But I don’t wanna take inspiration without telling you!”

So it happened that when he performed songs of his own, you sometimes began to recognize bits of your own infatuations and fallings outs weaved into his lyrics. The way he framed it, it usually made it easier to get over whoever had been behind the heartbreak. 

Minkyun isn’t busking today. The drizzle is enough that it wouldn’t be worth it. All the same, he spent the better part of the morning sending you messages asking you to come over. 

When you finally cave, you put on a front of unhappiness at the door, shaking out your umbrella before passing it over to his extended hand.

“I brought some stuff for my class so I can try to get work done like I’d planned,” you told him. 

He pouted for dramatic flair. “So you’re really just gonna act like you’re at your room at mine?”

“That’s what we agreed to! I told you I wanna get this reading done so I can just be hungover tomorrow without having to worry about Monday’s lecture.” 

“Damn, and people try to frame university drinkers as irresponsible.” 

“What can I say? I’m flawless,” you comment dryly as you pass into his room. 

“So you’re still going out even if the rain keeps up?” Minkyun asks. He settles into his usual spot near the foot of his mattress. You rummage through your bag for a textbook and your printed copy of the syllabus before finding a spot somewhere closer to the pillow. 

“Mm,” you affirm, “I think I’m officially entirely over Seungcheol, so it’ll be good for me to go out.” 

“Ahhh.” There’s something guttural and mischievous in the way he makes the sound. It’d be fair to expect some ribbing comment on how transparent you could be with these things. No such remark comes. 

It’s some time later, when you’re nearly done with your assigned reading, that Minkyun announces that he finished a new song recently. 

“Like one of your own?” you ask. 

He nods, and adds how he’d been thinking of playing it out this weekend if it hadn’t been for the poor turn in weather. 

You exaggerate a gasp. “You were going to share a song with a crowd before sharing it just with me?” There’s no real offence. It’s only a pattern that you’d noticed. Sometimes he’d say it felt needed, if only because he based part of the lyrics’ premise on your own experiences instead of his own. 

“I know!” Minkyun laughs airly. “Mother nature said not to, I guess!” 

“Well, are you going to play it now then?” You should tell him to wait until you’ve finished this chapter. That way you won’t entirely lose track of things. But you’re not infallible; and if there’s one thing you’re horrible at resisting it’s the chance to hear Minkyun play. 

He hops up from the bed to fetch his guitar. And he plays. 

It’s a love song, which doesn’t come as a surprise. Minkyun told you from the beginning - or at least when he first asked if he could take inspiration from your own heart’s tribulations - that he liked to write about that feeling. The good, the bad, or at the very least what he imagined of it. 

This song doesn’t feel familiar. Usually you can tell when he’s written indirectly about your own affairs. So these endearing words, these syrupy lines of dedication, of patiently waiting for the other one to notice… They must be from his own experience. 

A corner of your heart goes sour at that thought, and retorts that it might be one of his other friends. Devoted and hoping it won’t go unnoticed would be right up Yuto’s alley, you tell yourself as your search for a likely suspect. You don’t let yourself think too much on why you don’t want it to be Minkyun’s own feelings. 

Except there’s something else that bothers you. The way he keeps his eyes on his strumming fingers, or closes them altogether. 

Normally Minkyun looks at you now and then, and smiles at your reactions to his music. Even with the unhappy songs. 

You squeeze the textbook in your lap. A corner digs into your palm. He’s somewhere in the second chorus and your mind is fogging over with an irritation. It’s not his fault. You’re not mad at him. 

You just wish you had realized you want to fall in love with Minkyun sooner.

The last chord hangs in the air before you can fully process this thought. He looks at you expectantly. 

“What do you think?” Minkyun asks. 

You force a smile. “It’s sweet.” 

He leaves space for you to elaborate. When you don’t, the corners of his lips drag down a bit. “Just sweet?” He repeats. “Is it lame?” 

“No! It’s just - it’s different from some of your other stuff. But it’s sweet. I like it. I think, um… I just was expecting it to be something based on my whole recent back and forth thing. Since you wanted to play it for me,” you try to cover for your lackluster response. 

Minkyun looks you over for a moment, then chuckles. “Not every song can be about your love life.” 

“I know! Of course! Geez, that’s not what I meant,” you rush to say, loudly, as if you needed to cover the sound of some kind of fracture in your heart. 

He leans forward to set his guitar carefully on the tiles, its neck leaning against the bed frame. “I guess that’s not totally accurate to say here though.” He shakes his head to get his hair out of his eyes as he looks your way again. 

“...What?”  

“Ah��� You’re pretty clueless, huh?” Minkyun sounds content with himself, and he’s barely holding back a grin. 

“I’ve never gone on like that about someone.” 

“Yeah, I know.”  

You eye him over a few times quickly, trying to reach a conclusion that feels safe. All you can theorize for sure is that he’s practiced this all, and somehow it’s going to plan. Maybe. “What are you on about?” you ask, tone turning suspicious. 

He laughs more fully now, then shifts his position to face you directly from the other end of his duvet. “You.” 

You glance around him like this could be some hidden camera prank. “What?”

“You,” Minkyun repeats, “It’s about you.” 

In the most foolish move of the day, you suddenly felt your throat dry out the same way it does before you cry. It must have been too much at once: to realize a desire and think it ripped away only to have it suddenly offered up so easily, so soon. 

“You’re not serious.” 

“Is it bad if I am?” he asks, leaning to the right a bit as he watches your reaction. You press your palm to your clavicle, trying to get your heart and your mind in sync. “Am serious, I mean.”  

All you can manage is a shake of your head. 

Minkyun grins bright and leans forward to put a hand over the one still at your side. “You really didn’t notice?” He pulls off incredulous and teasing in one go. If you weren’t so off kilter, you might want to scold him for it somehow. 

“What was I supposed to know?” You ask instead.

He shakes his head. For a fleeting instant, you worry he’s about to brush the whole thing aside. That worry is killed pretty quickly when he leans closer instead and delicately presses an experimental kiss against your lips. 

Minkyun is back to his side of the bed in the next moment, nearly like it hadn’t happened at all.  

Your hand lifts from your clavicle to allow your fingers to brush over your own lips, still tingly with the affection. Or maybe just from his lip balm rubbing off on you. 

He gives you a second more before asking, “Still okay?” 

“Um, yeah.” 

His smile returns. “Still going out to find someone new tonight?” 

“Oh my god.” You cover your face with your hands and accuse, “You’re the worst.”

“So… is that a yes, you are?” 

He knows it isn’t. 

He’s spent all this time getting to know you. Now he gets to be the one on the receiving end of that look in your eyes. 

“Would you stop that?” You muster up as much of a snip in your voice as you can. Your gaze gives away that you’re not really annoyed. It would be difficult to be, given the way your head is still spinning from his confession.    

“Stop what?” 

The smile on his face suggests he already knows. Nevertheless, you don’t give Minkyun the satisfaction of admitting he’s teasing you. “Just kiss me again,” you swerve to a demand. Frankly, it’s the main thing you’d been thinking since the first. You’ll figure out the rest of your feelings later. 

For now, Minkyun is hardly going to deny you that.

[krreader]

BTS scenario → them cheating with your best friend.

pairing: bts x reader fandom: bts warnings: cheating ; language  genre: angst word count: 1.8k+

a/n: so, I contemplated a long time on how I wanted to do this. part of me wanted to go all in and re-write the entire idea so that your best friend wouldn’t cheat, but then I ended up settling for different scenarios with each member that revolve around the topic of cheating with your best friend, because I know, technically these things COULD happen. So I hope you like what it ended up turning into love!!!

kim seokjin

How could she have been so fake? How could she have told you all those things in the past that you’d surely marry Seokjin and that it was obvious that you two were destined to be together and yet do this to you?

And how could he, the one you trusted the most, how could he betray you like this, take out your heart and stomp on it like it was nothing? Like you were nothing?

There were so many thoughts rushing through your brain the moment you set foot in his bedroom and saw what was going on that it was hard to pinpoint one exact emotion.

Anger, sadness, confusion, betrayal..

..it all swirled around in your head.

At least until Jin’s hands touched your arms.

And then all of a sudden it was gone and you snapped out of it, immediately pushing him away from you.

“(Y/N)..-“

But you didn’t say a word.

You just turned around, walked out of the apartment and out of his life. All calls from him and her were left unanswered, all voice messages were deleted and all text messages ended up never going through because you blocked them.

It’s hard, seeing something like this. But what was even harder were the years that followed.

The years of you never trusting anyone again because of what they’ve done to you.

min yoongi

Yoongi had been acting weird for a while now, but whenever you’d ask him about it, he’d just brush it off.

You thought maybe he had a lot to deal with at work, but usually he told you about that. Same goes for when he was having an argument with another member, he always came to you to talk about it.

It was as if he reverted back to his old self when you first started dating and he wasn’t sure just how much of himself and his thoughts, fears and wishes he could share with you. It took years for him to fully open up to you.. which is what made this even more frustrating.

“Okay, that’s it,” you said one night when he just silently got into bed and pulled the blanket over his body to go to sleep, “Whatever your problem is, tell me now. I’m tired of this, Yoongi.”

But he couldn’t tell you, he was way too ashamed of himself to even say it out loud to himself.

His phone rang and you really didn’t mean to check who it was or what it was about, but you were so angry when he decided that checking his phone in the middle of this argument was more important than you that you picked it up.

And well.. you ended up reading the message.

“You’re the biggest fucking asshole on this planet, Min Yoongi. I would have given you the chance to tell me that you were drunk, but that’s it. If you truly thought that I’d just throw away my best friend like she’s trash to fuck you, you’re dead wrong.”

Yoongi tried to explain it, but it was as if you couldn’t hear anything anymore. Your eyes kept reading the words over and over again, being so heartbroken over them, while at the same time being so thankful for your best friend that she’d not betray you, but stick with and up for you.

It was an emotional rollercoaster that you truly couldn’t deal with in that moment.

So you just left..

..and never came back again.

jung hoseok

“What the hell is going on here?!” you walked into the kitchen with Jimin behind you, his eyebrows as furrowed as yours.

This was supposed to be a fun “house party”, but what you saw right now didn’t look like fun at all.

Hoseok was holding his cheek and your best friend was breathing heavily.

“Yes, Hoseok? Why don’t you tell her what the hell is going on, huh?”

“(Y/N), it’s not..-“

“He tried to kiss me, that’s what’s going on!”

You started to laugh, thinking this might have been a joke, but Hoseok looked.. guilty. So guilty that you knew she was telling the truth.

“What?” your voice was small, barely audible and tears were already forming in your eyes at the mere thought that Hoseok was trying to cheat on you while you were only a few feet away.. with none other than your friend. Your best friend!

But she instantly put an arm around you, pointing at Hoseok and looking him dead in the eye, “You’re an asshole, Jung Hoseok. You don’t deserve her, you understand? Stay away from her and stay away from me!”

You left with her that night and only returned a week later to talk to him.

One final conversation, that’s what it ended up being, because he admitted to what he had nearly done.

And no matter who he was, no matter how much you loved him and how much that part of you wanted to forgive him, you wouldn’t be with someone that tried to kiss someone else.

You were better than that.

kim namjoon

“Sit,” Namjoon ordered, making you giggle, thinking that this might be something sexual. But his look was serious. So serious that that smile ended up vanishing from your face.

“Okay, now you’re scaring me.. what is it?”

“I didn’t know how I should tell, but it’s not fair of me to keep it a secret what I’m about to say,” he took a deep breath, then began, “Three months ago, (Y/B/F) sent me a nude out of the blue. I thought she might have been drunk or maybe had sent it to the wrong person, so I never replied to it and she didn’t say anything else either. After that, I was actually convinced that it had been a mistake. But two weeks ago I got another one and then an hour later another one. She said really sexual things that I’m not going to tell you because you don’t need to hear, but she’s been constantly sending me these things, despite me telling her to stop.”

Your jaw dropped more and more, then you started to snort, “Okay, ha ha. Very funny, good story. Is she here? Is this a prank? A video prank?”

“It’s not a prank and it’s not a joke, (Y/N),” Namjoon grabbed your hand and looked into your eyes, “I’m telling you this because this is not a best friend. I know she means the world to you, but this isn’t okay and you need to cut her as soon as possible. And if you don’t believe me..-“ Namjoon handed you the phone, “Then look for yourself.”

And then he left you to it, because he felt like whatever happened next, you would need a moment to breathe and think. If you truly decided to read the messages and would see the filthy stuff that your best had messaged him while probably simultaneously messaging you and pretending to be the friend that you were to her..

Namjoon just let out a sigh when he could hear you screaming at her on the phone five minutes later.

park jimin

Your best friend had always been the kind of girl to preach to you how wrong it was to take the man of your best friend (or the man of anyone, really).

But apparently, when your man was Park Jimin, there seemed to be an exception.

“You have five seconds to explain this to me, Jimin, or I swear to god I will leave this apartment and never come back.”

“Look at the messages! Read them!” Jimin yelled, tears already welling up in his eyes, “She always said these things, I never said anything like that back! I kept telling her that she shouldn’t say stuff like that because you’re her best friend and I’m with you, but she wouldn’t stop!”

A part of you wanted to believe him, but in your current state it just sounded like an excuse to you.

You still left that day, needing to gather your thoughts, but Jimin kept calling and showing up at your door to try and explain to you that this wasn’t what you thought it was.

Yes, he should have told you about what your ‘best friend’ was doing behind your back, but he was afraid.. afraid how it’d look.

However, it couldn’t have looked worse than it did now if he had just come clean.

Because now it looked like he had tried to hide it from you because he was a part of this.. affair.

kim taehyung

This was really unusual for Taehyung, there used to be days where he could barely go five hours without talking or seeing you.. but it’s been three weeks, almost four since he last called or showed up at your doorstep. True, the last months had been rocky in your relationship, stress and arguments clouded the happiness that you once cherished so much.. but even during bad times like this, he still at least.. called.

You still texted, but that was different..

So instead of waiting for him to make a move, you decided to simply surprise him at the dorms, with a bit of food and the biggest smile ever at the thought of finally seeing him again.

But it wasn’t at all how you imagined it.

“No,” was the first thing Namjoon said when he opened the door, then closed it behind him, “You don’t want to go inside there right now.”

“What?” you snorted, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that I’m not letting him do any more damage. This has already gone too far and you are not going to see what’s inside there.”

“You’re scaring me, Namjoon,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “Is he okay?”

Namjoon knew there was no easy way to tell you that Taehyung had an affair and it was even harder to tell you who dared to show up at the apartment today.

Every single Bangtan member lost their shit over how casual he was about it, they yelled at him, then threw out your best friend and told her that if she said only one thing to anybody, they’d make sure they’d sue her.. for.. something.

And Namjoon hated how you broke down in his arms, but he’d rather hold you like this than you break apart in front of him.

jeon jeongguk

“What are you doing?” you asked as you wrapped your arms around Jeongguk from behind and kissed his cheek.

“I’m playing with (Y/B/F).”

“Oh.. you two play a lot with each other these days.. I’m glad you get along so well.”

It was kind of sad how naive you were, but at the same time.. shouldn’t you be? Shouldn’t you completely trust your boyfriend anyways, but even more so with your best friend involved? Why should you worry when it were the two people you trusted the most?

It was only a few weeks later when Jeongguk went into the kitchen to make something to eat but didn’t close his laptop that you walked closer when a message came in. You did so with a smile when you saw her name, thinking that you could maybe joke around and pretend like you were Jeongguk or be like: “Nope, not Jeongguk, just your best friend in the world.”

But that never happened.

“I don’t know, Kookie..” came the first message that made you furrow your eyebrows. Since when did she call him Kookie? “I don’t feel comfortable meeting behind her back.. and I appreciate all the sweet things you’ve been telling me, but I feel like this is very wrong..”

And after that it was game over.

Because you scrolled up, and up, and up and read all the things he’s been telling her. How pretty she was, how talented and how smart she was and that he couldn’t wait for you to bring her over soon so he could see her..

“So.. I didn’t know which ramen you wanted, so I just..-“ but when he entered his bedroom fifteen minutes later, the room was empty, the closet open and most of your clothes gone.. it looked like you had left in a hurry.

Jeongguk immediately started to panic and the first place he looked was his computer and he knew you had seen it.

And you didn’t have to say it.. but he knew it was over..

[anna-pixie]

would you ever write for General Hux from Star Wars? if you decide to, could you write a fic based loosely on Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift? like them having a secret friends with benefits relationship that they don’t want anyone to know bc of Hux’s rank. and then they both secretly catch feelings, and they’re getting worse at pretending they don’t love each other in public and eventually they have to face their problems. but with a happy ending bc i cant deal with cliffhangers or angst 😂😂

i love this song so tysm for the request!!

request: general hux x reader based loosely on illicit affairs by taylor swift

pairings: general hux x reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex

***

“I’m just saying, Y/N, it’s always the quiet ones who are the best in the bedroom.” Reyna wiggles her green eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes, sneering at her jokingly as you finish your lunch.

“General Hux is not quiet… he screams at everyone. Also, why are we talking about his sex life? If anyone hears us we’ll be put on cleaning duty for a month.”

“You know what I mean, compared to Ren he’s quiet. Less temper tantrums. I don’t know, something about him makes me wonder what he’s hiding under those slacks…”

“Reyna!” You squeal, throwing a chunk of bread at her as you decide to get up and leave. This conversation is going nowhere good and you don’t want to risk Ren hearing you whilst he skulks around base.

You walk down the halls, determined to have a quick nap in your quarters before clocking in for your afternoon shift on starkiller. You’re shocked when your datapad beeps suddenly, a knowing smile spreading across your face when you see the name flash on your screen. You click on the message and read it quickly, deleting it immediately after, leaving no trace behind.

General A. Hux:

My quarters. Now. Troopers have been sent away for lunch. Don’t let a soul see you enter.

You wonder what Reyla would say if she knew about this. Actually, she’d probably just ask you if he really is a freak in bed like she thinks he is. And, oh boy, the answer is yes.

You keep your head down, eyes on the floor as you walk towards Hux’s quarters, taking the quiet corridors that you know are less traveled. Your eyes widen and you halt as you hear the distance sound of boots thumping against the floor. You hurry the rest of the way, only relaxing once you’re right outside of his quarters. You send him a message, letting him know you’re outside and the door opens instantly.

Now, you and Hux have an agreement. A sort of friends with benefits situation, if you will. You’re not really sure how it came about, you were both working late one night in the command centre and the air was thick with sexual tension. It was only when you leaned over Hux to grab something that you noticed how close your faces were. He initiated the kiss, unwilling at first to let it go any further due to his rank within the First Order. It was an awkward few days after that, to say the least, but it soon got to the point where he could no longer help himself and the two of you hooked up in a small room near the command centre.

You’re not one who believes in love at first sight, because when you first met Hux you thought he was a snarky ginger brat. It’s funny how things work out, because somehow you’ve ended up head over heels in love with him. It’s hard, because you know feelings can’t be involved, but how many times can you have sex with someone before you start catching feelings, honestly?

You know he doesn’t feel the same. You can tell by the way his lips are on yours the second the door opens, no greeting or anything. He grabs the sides of your face harshly, not giving you a chance to breath as he kisses you. His hands move to the back of your thighs and he lifts you off of your feet, you squeal as you wrap your legs around his waist. He discards your datapad somewhere in the room and walks you over to the bed. He may not look it in those fitted black uniforms, but he is strong.

Two hours later, when you’re getting dressed again, you realise that you’re seriously late for your shift.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You wince as you try to stand up, Hux smirking at you from where he lies in the bed, sheets barely covering his lower stomach, “Shut it, you. I’m so late.” You whine, hopping slightly to get into your tight pants.

Hux gazes at you quizzically for a moment before he hums, running a hand through his hair, “Don’t go. I’ll tell them I saw you throw up in the canteen.”

“Isn’t that a bit…”

“A bit what?”

“I dunno, suspicious?”

“I’m the General, baby, they won’t question me.” You bite your lip as the pet name slips out of his mouth, probably by accident. Your cheeks are flush and you take a chance by leaning in and giving him one more long kiss, resting your hand delicately on his bare chest.

You walk out of his quarters with a spring in your step, not noticing his longing gaze following you.

***

“You smell nice, new perfume?” Reyla asks.

“It’s my special one, I don’t wear it often.” You comment casually as you take a sip of your caf, not wanting to admit that you only wear it on the days that you know you’ll see the general.

“What’s the special occasion today, then?”

“Oh, um, I just felt like wearing it…” You trail off as your eyes catch Ren and Hux walking into the hall, unable to tear your gaze away from him. He seems to be able to sense your gaze on him, because his head turns in your direction and his dark eyes meet yours. You bite your lip as your gaze connects and you notice that his lip quirks up ever so slightly at the side. He masks it by coughing into his black glove, turning his gaze back in front of him as he strides across base.

You always did like a powerful man in uniform.

You pull your eyes away once he exits the room, your cheeks flushing when you notice Reyla’s suspicious glance towards you. Her eyes dart back and forth between you and Hux’s retreating form before widening astronomically.

“No … way …”

“What?” You try to act innocent as she leans across the table, grabbing your arm and shaking it a little.

“You and Hux?!” She whisper-shouts, and you shake your head rapidly.

“No… what? No!” You deny quickly.

“Don’t you dare lie to me, Y/N Y/L/N, I know you too damn well.” You sigh, Reyla’s accusatory tone making you feel guilty.

“Okay, fine. Yes, but you can’t say a word. Okay?”

“Oh, Maker! How did it even start?”

You and Reyla retreat to your room with refilled cups of caf and you start explaining the story to her. Her face lights up as you explain and she umm’s and ahh’s throughout the story.

“So yeah, that’s where we are now.”

“You really think he’s not in love with you?”

“Well, yeah. Of course he’s not.”

“Listen, I am not a smart person by any means, but I do know a lovestruck face when I see one. His face in the canteen was all I needed to see to know there was something going on with you two.”

“Really?” You smile, trying not to get your hopes up. She’s probably wrong, right?

***

“You need to stop looking at me in public.”

You frown, shifting from where you’re lying on Hux’s chest to look at him properly.

“What?”

“You almost cracked me today, when you looked at me in the canteen. Ren was suspicious.”

“You want me to stop looking at you?” Your voice is incredulous and you sit up, clutching the black sheets against your bare chest, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Watch the way to speak to me, I’m still your superior.”

“Not like this you aren’t,” You spit at him, throwing off the covers and beginning to pull your clothes on. He groans, rubbing his eyes in annoyance as he watches you fume, asking where you’re going, “I can’t do this anymore.”

He freezes, eyes narrowing as he takes in your serious expression, “What? Why?”

“It’s not fair. I can’t talk to you in public, I can’t be near you in public, I can’t even look at you in public - but you can just have your way with me whenever you want? No. I’m done, General.” Your voice is shaky as you take one last look at him, still under the covers with wide eyes as he watches you storm out.

***

You ruined yourself for him, he turned you into an idiotic fool.

You sigh as you tap your foot lightly, waiting to be excused from the command room. One of the officers called you in to help with some problems he was having with his data pad. You’ve been waiting for him to be happy with the results for a good twenty minutes, your mind only able to focus on the fact that Hux is standing a few feet away from you.

You glance towards him discreetly, blushing when you notice he is doing the same. You look away again as quick as he does, awkwardly twiddling your thumbs before you’re finally excused.

Walking down the empty corridors, you can finally breathe again. You curse yourself because the only thing you can think about is the way Hux kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. A small scream leaves your mouth as someone grabs you from behind, a black glove covering your eyes as you’re dragged into the small room that saw the start of yours and Hux’s relationship.

You calm down slightly when you turn to see that it is indeed only Hux. He locks the door and leans against it, looking at you as the atmosphere quickly turns awkward.

“Look… um…” You’re surprised as Hux starts stuttering over his words, he’s usually so put together, “I’m sorry.”

That is a first. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him apologise to anyone.

“Fo-”

“No. I need to get this out.” He interrupts, taking a deep breath, “In a position like my own, opening oneself up to emotions such as love is a foolish act. This job… it requires emotionless, robotic dedication. I was good at that, until I met you. I’ve been in love with you since the first moment I saw you, I don’t know how else to express that with anything else other than sex. I love you, Y/N.”

You can’t help the tears that trail down your face, you sniffle, smiling in his direction as he does the same to you. A real, genuine smile that looks slightly foreign on his face.

“Hux-”

“Armitage.” Your breath stills, you never thought he would tell you his first name. It’s a strange name but it fits him perfectly.

“Armitage, I love you too.” You approach him hesitantly, shocked when you realise his eyes are teary. You grin, kissing him lightly as his arms wind around your body in a tight embrace, “How is this going to work? We can’t exactly tell everyone.”

“That’s a problem for another day, my love.” He kisses you long and hard, making you forget about every single worry you have.

**

star wars tag list:

@chewymoustachio

[angst-fairygodmother]

Hi! I saw your post about you taking requests, and I would like to request prompt 4 en 15 from the grumpy affectionates prompts for light fingers if you want to 😊 in case you haven’t noticed, I really like them 😍

A/N: Sorry this took so long to get to. I got about 2/3 of the way through writing a version of it and then decided I hated it and started over. Hope you enjoy the new version! (Also I slightly changed the wording of 15 to feel more natural/fit better in the story.) Word Count: 1596 Content Warnings: alcohol reference, jealousy

It was one of the rare date nights where Diego actually wanted to go out, so despite being tired from a long week at work and content to just cuddle, you agreed. Pulling out all the stops, you’d gotten dolled up and let him guide you through the city. First, was dinner out at a nice restaurant, classier than you usually bothered with but well worth waiting in a queue for. Then he had suggested continuing the night with dancing, out at a place you knew of that combined ballroom and more typical club styles to create an eclectic, exciting and ever changing affair.

You knew Diego knew how to dance, and had seen him do so on several occasions, usually with you around the apartment, but tonight he was in rare form. There wasn’t a single song he didn’t want to move to, and no matter what the music suggested, he wanted to hold you close for all of it. 

You were no slouch, but he made it a challenge of endurance to keep up with him.

A soft, romantic tune hummed from the overhead speakers and gratefully you slowed to a gentle sway with him, your arms around his neck and his on your waist. Staring into his warm brown eyes that reflected back the club lights beautifully, you felt a sort of bliss settle over you. You had always thought you weren’t meant for “peace,” and had always told yourself that love like your parents had wasn’t meant to find you, because it was easier that way, safer to protect yourself from heartbreak. And yet, here you were, enjoying exactly that. This thing between you and Diego was real and solid and staying and you saw it all in the way he gazed down at you. 

Suddenly the song ended, transitioning into a rapidfire tango, and whatever moment of contemplation you were having was lost into the steps. 

“Diego,” you said, leaning up to call directly into his ear over the music when the song finally wound down. “I’m gonna take a break, just sit out for a sec, alright?”

He frowned, looking worried or like he was about to protest. But then he nodded, kissing you quickly and letting you go. You smiled at him as you wound your way to the sidelines and he watched from the dancefloor. 

Trying to catch your breath, you leaned against the bar, turning to look out at the crowd, sweeping over it to see how Diego handled your absence. Before you spotted him though, something cool tapped against your arm, and you whipped around to find the pretty bartender smiling at you with an outstretched glass of ice water. 

“Oh I didn’t order…” you started before she shook her head.

“No, but I saw you out there tearing up the place,” she smiled. “So I figured you could use a drink, and water’s the only thing I’m allowed to give on the house.”

You laughed, accepting the drink gratefully and taking a long swallow, the cool liquid instantly soothing you. 

“Your man there, he’s pretty...intense.”

“What?” you frowned, trying to pick up on her meaning. “Diego just doesn’t know how to do things in halves.” You shrugged, used to your husband’s quirks. 

“Does that include jealousy?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him jealous actually. Why?”

“Just checking if I should sleep with one eye open or if that glare’s all bark and no bite.” 

You followed her gaze, turning back around to spot Diego, leaning against a wall, arms crossed and watching intensely. You grimaced. Jealousy wasn’t his style, but overprotectiveness definitely was. Even at a distance, you could tell he didn’t trust the bartender and was bothered by your chatting with her. 

“I’ll talk to him and make sure he knows you were just being friendly.”

“Was I?” she raised an eyebrow and smirked at you, causing you to sputter and nearly choke on another sip of water.

Carefully regaining your composure you smiled. “Well I’m flattered, but…” 

“Don’t sweat it,” she grinned, waving aside your comment, “I don’t need an answer or reciprocation. It was just a bit of harmless fun with someone pretty to liven up the boring work night.”

“I should probably get back over there,” you said lamely, and she nodded. 

Emptying the rest of your glass, you offered her one last smile over your shoulder as you dodged through the club to Diego’s side. As soon as you were in range, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you so that your back was flush to his chest and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“I missed you,” he whispered against your skin, following his words with feather-light kisses.

You laughed, twisting out of his grasp to take his hands and tug him back toward the dance floor. “I was gone for less than five minutes.”

“I know,” he sighed, pulling you close again, hands falling to your hips. “But I always miss you. Especially when you look so pretty, no, gorgeous.” 

His head fell to your shoulder again, face pressing into you. 

“Why were you flirting with the bartender?” he asked suddenly.

“I was being friendly.” The pair of you spun around the dancefloor with the others, moving swiftly to the song. 

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, hair tickling your cheek. “That wasn’t just friendly.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No! Why would you assume I was? Because I don’t like my wife flirting with other people?”

“No, because you’re acting really strangely.”

“I’m not acting strangely.” 

He stepped back so that instead of dancing, you were squaring off. Several of the people around you noticed, stopping their own movements to stare at you. 

“What do you call this behavior then? Getting all cuddly and affectionate in public is not your style Diego, and neither is accusing me of flirting with someone else.”

“Well, I’ve been subtle at hinting that I want your attention all night and you haven’t noticed once! So what if I got a little pissed and more forward?”

“You’ve had my attention all night! I don’t understand!”

“Not all of it. You’ve been distracted and not really present.”

Your scowl deepened, crossing your arms across your chest. Maybe he was right that you were thinking a lot tonight, but he had no right to demand that you didn’t. And it wasn’t like you were thinking of someone else, or something else even. All your thoughts had been about Diego in some way or another. Who did he think he was, to yell at you like this?

“Now you’re annoyed with me,” he stated, voice a little softer. 

“Obviously.”

His expression softened and he stepped closer. They weren’t quite puppy-dog eyes he was giving you, but they were pretty close, and you could already feel your resolve cracking. But you were determined to be annoyed. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, one hand coming up to rest on your elbow, face fully a smolder now.

You felt yourself melting at his touch. The rest of the crowd had faded into faint background buzz.

“STOP BEING SO CUTE, IT’S NOT FAIR!” you blurted out. “I’m trying to still be mad at you.”

“But why?”

“Because you were being jealous and grouchy and I don’t appreciate it when you get that way.”

He nodded in understanding. “If you promise to stop being mad, I’ll make it up to you. Any way you want.”

You couldn’t help the smile that cracked your face at the offer, and the way his lower rumble was suggestive of what he meant. 

“Just shut up and dance with me,” you murmured, stepping fully back into his embrace. “No more jealousy or weirdness. And tell me if you feel like I’m ignoring you.”

“Okay, I will. I promise.”

“Good, then I’ll think about forgiving you.”

He laughed, twirling you in his arms. And just like that, all the tension, all the weirdness melted away as if it had never been. 

Well into the early morning the pair of you danced, stumbling home on aching feet just as the first birds began to chirp and stir around you.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” you said, leaning exhaustedly against him as you fumbled with the building’s finicky front door. 

“What are you sorry for?” he gently took the key from your hand and opened the door himself. “I was the one not communicating.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t have to shout at you in the middle of everyone like that.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. I know you didn’t mean anything by it. And you said I was cute.” He smirked teasingly at you before taking you by the hand and leading you up the narrow stair. 

You rolled your eyes, sticking your tongue out at his back and squeezing his hand gently.

“Of course that was your take away,” you muttered as he opened the apartment door next.

“Next time—” he started but you shook your head.

“I don’t want there to be a next time. I just want us to talk.”

“Okay. And I’ll try. I’m just...still not used to someone who wants to hear me say things.”

“I know.” You wrapped your arms around him in a tight embrace that he returned in seconds. “Are we good, though. For real? No jealousy, no bitterness about confronting you?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

You smiled, dropping onto the bed to tug off your shoes with a sigh of relief. 

“Good. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[attina-the-responsible]

The Triton House

This is part of a series that one day may be complete but also may never be complete. As most of you know I’m like a huge #spatial person in my writing, so all my character’s houses/apartments/living spaces are really well mapped out in my brain? And I thought it’d be fun for people to see. (And a good reference for those who may RP in those spaces at some point.) Also, shout out to the mersisters for letting me force my ideas on them, lmao.

@andrina-the-amazingsupergenius, @adella-the-idyllic, @arista-the-musical, @aquata-the-champ, @alana-the-brilliant

Overview:

The Triton House is a 7 bedroom, 4 bath house in the richest neighborhood in Swynlake. It was built originally in 1909. This chateau sits on a half acre property with an original brick façade and lattice along the front that is covered in sweet-scented wisteria. Even the outside boasts a cheery, warm environment which is only expounded upon by the interior.

*note: click to enlarge floorplans!

**note: pictures in the aesthetic are to give an overall #feel of the house, but don’t necessarily indicate the exact furniture/decorations/floorplan. the floorplan, on the otherhand is not quite to scale but i did the best i could.

1. Living Room

The front part of the Triton household is a spacious, open floor plan, with the kitchen to the immediate left and the seating area on the immediate right. Guests arrive on a dias and descend two steps in either direction, or forwards towards the back of the house and stairs. The living room is decorated in a clean, but homey way, with plenty of seating area, both for the comfort of the large family and the benefit of any guests they may have. There is a chest of blankets that get passed around on colder nights. A large telly can swivel on an axis if someone prefers one seat to another but is large enough and set in a place so as to be viewable from most living room seats. The colours are cream and blues, with other accent colours and many mismatched throw pillows, some with quirky sayings and others that were crocheted by some of the girls. 

2. Kitchen

The Triton kitchen is a large, boisterous room of the house. With a large amount of counter space and a six-top stove set into the island counter, it is ideal for cooking for a significant group of people. The oven sits next to the refrigerator and is state of the art. The cabinets are arranged in a neat, organized way, with each girl having a shelf for her own snacks and goodies. Everything is labeled and diligently upkept. The refrigerator is covered in photos of family/friends as well as cards, certificates of merits, medals, and other familial memorabilia. Once again, the kitchen is decorated in a homey fashion, with plenty of cliche sayings hanging on the walls (think: Live. Laugh. Love. style.) (see: the middle, top image.)

3. Dining Room

The dining room in the Triton household is rather cramped, but a much frequented place for the Tritons to gather. Dinners are frequent and even if missing one or two members, still crowded affairs, usually involving guests as well. There are extra chairs that can be squeezed in to make room if necessary and everyone is used to bumping elbows. Still, it is a lovely little room and has served the Tritons well in the almost thirty years they’ve lived there. 

4. Sun Room/Music Room

Down the hallway, making your way towards the back of the house, one comes across a door to the left. One of the most peaceful rooms in the house, the rambunctious, fast-paced nature of the Triton abode is usually left behind when entering this room. Originally a sunroom, it still boasts large floor-to-ceiling windows on two walls, facing northwest, in order to catch the afternoon sunlight. Here is where the Tritons store and practice their various instruments, of which only a few are listed here: a grand piano, a keyboard, a classical harp, a saxaphone, a drumset, and several guitars. The Tritons are an actively musical family, though the music room is not as busy as it was several years ago. Now, it is a peaceful place, still used often for practices, but also for contemplative journal-writing, reading, or other such pastimes, when one needs a moment alone.

5. Guest Bedroom/Office Space

Once the permanent home of the Triton’s nanny, Benjamin, the room was vacated several years ago. Located down the hall at the back of the house on the right, across from the music room, it is now a guest room/office that is used on occasion. Even though it is a guest room, it is still stocked with cozy decorations and family photos.

6. Washing Room

If you venture past the music room and guest room, you will turn right and see a door on the right hand side. Always overflowing with laundry, but somehow usually tidy, the washroom sees a lot of action from the Tritons’ various activities. This room also is decorated with typically cliche saying placards and other cozy, homey touches.

7. Guest Bathroom

“It is down the hall, to the right, to the right, and through the washroom!” is a common phrase during Triton parties, or when someone visits for the first time. Though it is tucked into the back of the house, the guest restroom sees frequent use, both from inhabitants whilst downstairs, as well as the copious guests that flow in and out of the Tritons’ doors. Decorated in an ocean/beach theme, because Athena thought she was very funny and now it is a bit of an inside joke that they won’t change.

8. Underwater Grotto

Instead of entering the washroom, if one looks straight on after turning right down the main hall, they will spot a door with a state-of-the-art lock on it. If asked, a Triton will reply with a laugh and--depending on who it is--you will get any number of responses as to what the room is used for, from a superhero lair to their father being paranoid about storage. The mysteries of what is in the Triton basement are revealed to only a select few. Behind the door is an indoor saltwater pool. Damp and dark, the pool is magically enhanced to be quite large and deep, perfect for mermaids. The floors and walls are made of stone, so the whole place looks more like a cave than a room. It has an inclining entrance to the pool and spreads the length and width, with a few places for sitting around the edges and dotted in the center in large rock croppings. The Tritons can often be found here with each other or the other mermaids/selkies in Swynlake. It is known as a haven for mercreatures of all kinds.

9. Upstairs Hallway

Back at the front of the house, if one does not enter the hallway, they have the option to ascend the plain staircase. (If one looks behind the staircase to the wall, one will see dozens of notches in the wall, labeled with dates, heights, and names of the Triton girls.) Along the wall leading upwards is a collage of family photos that cover the wall in the most typical fashion one can imagine. On the second floor, the stairs float in the middle of a large hallway. Directly in front of the top of the stairs is the master bedroom. Up slightly and to the left is the Adella and Arista’s room, up slightly and to the right is Aquata and Alana’s room. If one turns around, they will see Ariel’s room to their left and Attina and Andrina’s room to the right, as well as another set of stairs that leads upwards once more. 

10. Attina and Andrina’s Room

The two eldest Triton girls’ room has been vacant for several years, though is often still used by either or both girls when they are home for holidays or other such events. In their youth, the room was haphazardly decorated on one side--with mostly pink decor; on the other side was a more tidy version--mostly decorated in orange. It has two desks, one for each girl, as well as a spacious closet that was shared (and the site of many battles.) Now, it is mostly barebones but vestiges of Andrina and Attina’s childhood and adolescence remain. Often, Alana commandeers the room as her own, or second room, nowadays. 

11. Attina, Andrina, Adella, and Arista’s Restroom

The bathroom is shared between four sisters: Attina, Andrina, Adella, and Arista and was also a site of much contention. The counter was full of products and it was always a battle for getting ready in the morning, especially in the unfortunate years when all four girls were in secondary at the same time. Arista would always somehow manage to use someone else’s hairbrush and it was extremely obvious by the blonde hair left behind. The little racks and shelves are decorated with shells on the outside of them from when they used to go hunting the beach in Bournemouth for the prettiest shell. There’s jars full of them still somewhere in the house. It’s a lot less cluttered now that Arista and Adella mostly use it.

12. Adella and Arista’s Room

Adella’s side of the room is closest to the window. The head of her bed is pushed against the wall, and her nightstand table’s top drawer is where her hearing aids live while she sleeps. Her desk was never used for school work - she’d go elsewhere in the house for that - and instead houses her sewing machine. Her guitar is mounted on the wall when she isn’t using it, the guitar is decorated with political, ideological, and cute stickers. On the nightstand is a cute little touch to turn on lamp with seahorses on it. There are battery-pack powered strings of lights all over the room as decoration, hung neatly around any posters and other wall decor. The main light in the room is barely flicked on -its usually illuminated by the battery pack lights and the nightstand lamps, or natural light from the sun.

Arista’s side of the room is closest to the door because she doesn’t like thunderstorms and the changing weather always used to distract her when she was younger so her desk is next to her bed and turned to face away from the window. She has a rolling spinny chair that she’s frequently seen curled up in and writing on a notebook in her lap. Her desk is filled with sheet music and notebooks and binders full of all sorts of things that Tina helped her make so she could keep track of what music and manuals went with what instrument. She has cases of instruments and spare parts and shoe boxes under her bed from all the Christmases when she didn’t know what to tell people she wanted aside from shoes and cool instrument accessories. Typically Arista tries to keep all of the instruments in the music room because if she starts bringing them into their room, things get very cluttered very fast and it would stress Tina out and distract her from other things growing up so she just learned to keep most instruments in their designated room. (A keyboard or extra guitar still sometimes manages to find its way into their room every now and then though). Arista’s nightstands have several sets of earphones, headphones, earbuds, and a bowl of guitar picks on top of them so she can just grab one and go. On the nightstand is a pull chain lamp covered in shells. Much of Ris’ closet organization was Tina’s doing, it’s the only way the two girls managed to have closet space with her ever growing shoe collection and sentimental keepsakes stash (she doesn’t like throwing a lot of things away because they hold happy memories) in addition to their clothes. Her wall has both a dry erase board of “things she absolutely cannot forget about” for the week and a large cork board filled with all the showcases she’d played in, playbills from the productions she’d worked on, postcards of cities from tour, and photos of her sisters with her making the biggest smile imaginable.

13. Aquata and Alana’s Room

Alana and Aquata's room has light blue walls, a color chosen by Aquata before Ariel was born and neither knew that they'd share a room one day. Alana's side is closer to the window, since Aquata historically got up earlier and had to leave earlier. On Alana's end, there are boho tapestries,fairy lights, and strings of photos and scrapbook style bulletin boards. The bed has purple and turquoise sheets and is full of throw pillows. The desk opposite the bed used to have a pretty fancy video and computer setup (it's now with her in her flat) There's tons of candles and also just a lot of...stuff in general. Even though she doesn't live there anymore, it's not near clean. Clothes, makeup, half completed experiments litter the available surfaces. Aquata’s side is somewhat neater and sparser. She has a shelf full of swimming memorabilia (photos, trophies, medals, etc) above her bed and the rest of her sport memorabilia is on a smaller bookshelf at the foot of her bed. She also has a signed team photo framed at the head of her bed from her last meet at Pride U. Her bedspread is a steely blue color and over it she has a T-shirt quilt made out of old swim camp shirts that date back to primary school. Aquata doesn’t spend much time in her room, so it doesn’t look overly lived-in.

14. Aquata, Alana, and Ariel’s Restroom

It used to be a lot messier when Alana lived here, absolutely chaotic on her side with products and hair curlers and stuff that Aquata always had to yell at her to clean up. Sometimes the sink would be colored with whatever experiment Lana was working on. Ariel’s space is small considering the few beauty products she actually has. Shockingly, it's the most cleaned space she has designated to herself, but only because of her current lack of interest in makeup. Though a couple small pallets for events are stowed away in a drawer, they’ve hardly been put to good use. Really, it’s mostly just the essentials for her. Aquata’s space is mostly clean as well, with one trusty makeup set that she almost always uses (occasionally she’ll borrow something from Alana if it’s a special occasion). She does have an absolute mess of scrunchies, headbands, and hair ties in one of the drawers, and she usually leaves her Tiger Balm out on the counter. 

15. Ariel’s Room

With Ariel being the only Triton sister with her own room, she takes full advantage of the space. She’s able to spread her things about (or leave clothes lying around when she’s in a rush), and not argue or worry about someone else’s space or an imaginary divider in the room. The room is decorated in an array of posters from bands she adores to the newest anime she’s binging with Finn and just had to have the poster for. She’s also a big fan of hanging Christmas lights haphazardly around her room and using that as a source of light instead of the actual ceiling lights in her room. When home, she spends most of her time here, so the bed is rarely ever made. Instead, the blankets are in the shape she left them, normally nest like, where she spends hours on her computer from watching drumming videos to just browsing odd forums late into the night. Of course, her trusty shark plush since childhood, Billy, is present on her bed at all times, holding down the fort when she’s gone.

16. Master Bedroom and Bathroom

The master bedroom is the largest bedroom in the Triton household. It is decorated in warm, muted colors. Much has not changed in the years after Athena’s death. Even some of her clothes are still in the closet, which Triton never had the heart to remove. It is only a few items: her favorite sunhat, a dress he had bought her for her birthday she wore all the time, her favorite pair of trainers, well-worn, stuff such as that, that was not removed to the attic. 

17. Triton’s Study

A place of mostly mystery to the girls when young, Triton’s study is tucked away on the third floor, and is most often frequented by Triton on restless nights when he cannot sleep. Though, it is also used while he runs his business from home on occasion. The room is one of the more decadent of the house. The rest has a warm, inviting atmosphere, but the study is much more reserved. Decorated in deep blues and greens, it boasts lovely oak bookshelves, of which Triton is very fond. There is a large desk and even a deep brown leather couch, which Triton can often be found napping on before dinner.

18. Athena’s Studio

A room that has been untouched since the death of Athena, the studio was once a bright, lovely space where Athena spent much of her time that was not occupied by caring for her seven daughters or when she was not out volunteering in various charity positions. Athena was not as talented an artist as a musician, but she still enjoyed creating things. Athena’s studio was a charming crafting space, full of yarn, scrapbooking, canvases on easels, and other such projects. Some are still unfinished.

19. Guest Bedroom/Old Playroom

This room used to be where the girls had their playroom so that their parents could keep an eye on them while they were upstairs also. It has only been packed up and converted in the last ten years or so, after ARiel finally grew out of it mostly. Now, it’s just a nice guest space for when people are over.

20. Attic

The attic in the Triton household is less of a storage space and more of a tomb for Athena. After her death, all of her possessions were moved to this space, except for the jewelry, clothing, and knick-knacks which were distributed amongst her family and friends. There is also a large storage of photos from the girls’ childhood. While many litter the house, the extras and all of Athena’s scrapbooks were put away in the attic. The attic is seldom visited, except for when someone is searching for Christmas decorations, or the like.