#and i could see others asking for help from dream with things that were not intentionally taking advantage but still had that effect

[awkward-walking-potato]

I do hope you’re still doing Wolverine requests!

if so, mayhaps I request a Logan x mutant!gn!reader where the reader is much older than Logan (and has more experience of history than he does), and Logan likes to ask questions (asking if they’re comfortable with it at first since he doesn’t want to bring up some unpleasant memories) about things that happened before he was even alive? I’d like that, but if not then that’s alright!

Echoes of Time

The fire crackled softly, casting a warm glow over the cabin’s cozy interior. Logan leaned back in his chair, a glass of whiskey resting on his knee, his eyes flicking between the flames and you, sitting across from him. The quiet moments between missions, when it was just the two of you, always seemed to settle something deep in his chest.

You sat comfortably, your gaze distant but serene, as though you were caught somewhere between the present and the distant past. And Logan knew that, in some ways, you were. After all, you had been alive for far longer than him. Decades, maybe even centuries — your experiences far surpassed his, both in length and in breadth.

It was something that had always fascinated him. Even with his extensive, albeit fragmented, memories of the past century, Logan felt like a child when it came to the sheer scope of your experience. Yet, despite your age and wisdom, you had always been patient with him, never treating him as though he were lacking in some way.

Tonight, though, something stirred in Logan’s mind. He took a slow sip of his whiskey, glancing at you once more before speaking up, his voice soft, almost tentative.

"Can I ask you something, darlin'?"

You blinked, your gaze snapping back to the present as you looked at him. "Of course, Logan. What’s on your mind?"

He hesitated for a moment, not wanting to tread on sensitive ground, but his curiosity was strong. "I was just wonderin'... if you're comfortable with it, could you tell me about… y’know, things from before? Stuff that happened long before I was around."

Your expression softened, and you could see the careful way he chose his words. Logan had always been considerate about your past, understanding that someone with your history might have painful memories. But at the same time, he couldn’t help his fascination with the things you had seen, the world you had lived through before he was even born.

"I don't want to bring up anything unpleasant," he added quickly, his gruff voice tinged with concern. "But if you're alright with it, I just... I like hearin’ your stories. Helps me understand things better. Understand you better."

You smiled, a warmth spreading in your chest at his sincerity. "You don’t have to worry, Logan. I don’t mind talking about the past. Some parts of it were hard, sure, but others… others were beautiful."

Logan nodded, setting his glass down on the table beside him as he leaned forward, his full attention on you. "What was it like, back then? The world, before all this madness with wars, and mutants, and everything?"

You paused, gathering your thoughts as you sifted through centuries of memories. "It wasn’t always easy. The world was harsher in some ways, and simpler in others. People were the same, though — always struggling, always dreaming. I saw empires rise and fall, entire civilizations come and go."

Logan’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. "Did you ever get caught up in all that? The wars and the politics?"

You chuckled softly. "It was hard not to, sometimes. But I tried to keep my distance when I could. I learned early on that being a part of human conflicts rarely ended well for someone like me."

Logan grunted in understanding, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, I get that."

There was a pause, the firelight flickering across the room as Logan studied you, the weight of your words sinking in. He was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Did you ever meet anyone… famous? You know, like historical figures?"

You smiled at the question, your mind drifting back to encounters long past. "A few. Some of them weren’t as impressive as the history books make them out to be. But there were a handful who were truly remarkable — people who made you believe in change, even when it seemed impossible."

Logan nodded thoughtfully, processing everything you said. His hand absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck as he continued. "I imagine you saw a lot of good people come and go. That must’ve been tough."

You exhaled softly, the sadness of those memories weighing on your chest. "It was. Losing people is never easy, no matter how much time passes. But I try to hold onto the good memories, the ones that make it all worth it."

Logan’s eyes softened as he watched you, sensing the deep emotions you carried. He reached out, taking your hand in his, the roughness of his touch gentle, grounding. "You’re a tough one, you know that?"

You smiled, giving his hand a squeeze. "I’ve had to be."

Logan studied your face for a moment, his thumb brushing gently over your knuckles. "Must’ve been lonely, though. Goin’ through all that on your own."

"It was," you admitted softly. "But it’s different now."

Logan’s gaze held yours, a silent understanding passing between you. He knew what you meant — that in this moment, with him, you weren’t alone. And the weight of the past, while still present, didn’t feel quite as heavy anymore.

He let out a slow breath, leaning closer. "I’m glad you’re here with me now. I’ve seen a lot, too, but not like you. It’s... comforting, y’know? Knowing I’m not the only one with a messed-up past."

You chuckled lightly, appreciating the way he could make even the darkest subjects feel lighter. "We’ve both got our scars, Logan."

He smirked at that, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Yeah, but I like yours better."

You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, but your heart warmed at the affection behind it. Despite all his rough edges, Logan had a way of making you feel seen, valued, even with all your history.

Logan shifted in his chair, his voice turning more serious again. "You think about the future much? Or does the past keep you too busy?"

You thought for a moment before answering. "I used to dwell on the past more, but lately… I’ve been thinking about the future. There’s still so much to see, so much to experience. And it’s easier to look ahead when you have someone to share it with."

Logan’s lips quirked into a soft smile, his thumb still tracing patterns on your hand. "Glad I could be that someone."

The fire crackled quietly between you, the warmth of it wrapping around the two of you as you sat in comfortable silence. Logan, despite his hardened exterior and often gruff demeanor, had a deep respect for you — for the life you had lived, and the strength it took to carry all those memories with you.

He broke the silence one last time, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the question had only just dawned on him. "Do you ever regret it? Livin’ that long, seeing everything?"

You looked at him, his question hanging in the air for a moment. Then, with a soft smile, you shook your head. "Not anymore. Not since I met you."

Logan’s smile widened slightly, his eyes softening in a way they rarely did. He leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his rough hands cradling the sides of your face. "Good," he whispered. "’Cause I ain’t lettin’ you go."

And in that moment, as you leaned into his touch, the weight of centuries seemed a little lighter. The past would always be there, but with Logan by your side, the future seemed brighter than it had in a long time.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Lie Matter.

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!reader

Series masterlist | ONE | TWO | THREE |

Summary: All Spencer wanted was to have you back, but when it happens, it's the opposite of what he and you thought it would be.

Words: 3,6k.

TW: mentions of crime, trauma, death and pain (normal warnings in the series). so much spoilers for s6 and s7. the events narrated occur after emily's "death". so MUCH angst. read the dates carefully, especially the years, because there are some backward time frames that can confuse you if you don't pay attention!. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Okay, if I apologized for the first part, I have to get down on my knees for this one, because it is even more bitter (sorry Emily and Spencer, too).

I ask you to put yourselves in everyone's shoes and refrain from hateful comments. The process of writing this was emotionally challenging for me because I recognize that everyone has a valid point of view.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

December 5th, 2010

Your brow furrowed as you opened a new tab on your computer and watched it freeze for a few seconds. You were not very knowledgeable about technology and thought that perhaps a technical analyst could be of assistance. You were somewhat surprised when you suddenly felt a pair of warm arms around you from behind the sofa.

On the bright side, it wasn't all bad. At least not if you had him on your side.

“Hey.” You said, smiling slightly as you felt Spencer rest his head on your shoulder. “I thought you were reading.”

“Yeah, but you looked really focused and I wanted to know what you were doing.” He replied, carefully sitting down next to you on the couch, not wanting to invade your space. You looked at him with some amusement. “I'm just curious.”

He gazed at your computer screen, his heart aching a little as he noticed you were browsing a travel site, exploring different destinations and planning your budget. Had you decided to leave? He wondered why you hadn't told him sooner. Were you planning to leave him?

“Are you planning to leave?” He finally asked, after a few seconds of trying to decide whether to pursue the matter further. “Did something happen?”

The question he really wanted to ask, and feared to ask, was: Did I do something?

But no, Spencer wasn't going to self-destruct or assume things this time. He trusted you and he trusted that you would tell him if something was wrong because that was the kind of relationship the two of you had built.

“It's my mother's gift to me.” You replied quickly, as if to avoid the subject. “For my birthday.” You added as you noticed he looked confused.

“A trip?”

“Yes, when I was younger, I wanted to see the whole world and my mother promised that someday I would.” You began to explain, trying to avoid his gaze at first so as not to show too much vulnerability. Suddenly he took your hand in support. “Since I was fourteen, she's given me a trip every time...she doesn't know that I don't even have that dream anymore.”

“What is your dream now?” He asked with a genuine curiosity that made you feel small under his gaze.

You paused for a moment and smiled at him. “Is it too cheesy if I say it's you?”

“It's sweet.” Spencer couldn't help but blush a little and let out a laugh and then get a little more serious. “What's your dream?”

It was a new question, so you weren't quite sure how to answer. It was unusual because no one had ever asked you that before, or at least not with such a genuine interest in your answer.

“Other than you? I think just peace of mind. Maybe a family, a dog, and a nice house. The usual.” You rambled a bit, unsure. “To be honest, I've had the same dreams as my sister all my life. I've always copied them, even the FBI idea. But we already know that didn't work out so well for me.” You faked a laugh and pointed to your leg.

You expected him to laugh, the last thing you wanted was a look of pity or a deepening of your childhood problems. But you knew him well enough to know that he wasn't the kind of person to let things go, he literally couldn't forget them.

“Don't feel sorry for me, please.” You said as you noticed how his caresses on your arm were getting softer and softer.

“It's not that. I just don't like it when you treat yourself badly.” He explained calmly. “You were good at the FBI anyway. You're good at everything.”

You let out a bitter little laugh. “I was only 'good' because my sister taught me how to fight. And without being able to do that, I'm no good.” You pointed with a smile on your face, not wanting to worry him. “But it's okay, you have the brains.”

“And you're smart, funny, pretty, and-” He started listing your attributes at a surprising pace, which made you stop him with a kiss.

He is deeply moved when he experiences the sensation of your lips on his. Your kisses always leave him feeling profoundly cherished. They are characterized by a gentle, soft, warm, and tender quality that makes him feel like he is the most precious thing in the world to you. It is enough to send an intoxicating wave of emotions through him, filling every inch of his body with warmth.

“Thank you.” You gave him a smile when your lips parted.

“I had a lot more to say.” He said, still a little flushed. He then tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, as if he wanted to see you better. “I could go on for days.”

You just smiled at him like you were head over heels, feeling like you could say 'I love you' right then and there.

But you didn't. Unfortunately, you were too afraid to do it that time.

March 29th, 2011

“Aren't you planning to eat?” Your sister asked you for the third time, taking a big sip of her coffee and looking at the croissant you still had untouched on your plate.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and tried to cross your arms, but the wounds in your stomach still caused discomfort and you had to stifle a groan with a poor excuse. “I'm not hungry.”

Emily didn't say anything at first, just watched you, made you feel like just another criminal she was carefully profiling.

The two of you had been enjoying breakfast together at the table for several minutes without engaging in conversation. The dining room was peaceful, with only the sound of the clock on the wall to gently remind you that time was passing, whether you wanted it to or not.

And you really hoped the time would pass quickly so you could go home soon. But not fast enough for the people you loved to put you in the memory box that never opens.

“Can we have a normal conversation?” She asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

“I'm listening.” You finally make eye contact and stop looking out the window at the Eiffel Tower to look at her.

Then she gave that stern mother look, and you knew you were in trouble. “You have to eat. If you want, we can order something else.”

You didn't say anything, just looked at her tired face and sighed a little, feeling a twinge of guilt for not accepting her attempts to make the atmosphere more pleasant. You didn't know how to tell her that your frustration and pain went far beyond the physical, that it was something you felt in your heart and that no special food or doctor could fix. Everything was already taking its toll on you.

“I know this is tough, but please don't make it worse. I'm here for you.” She put her hand over yours and gave you a little squeeze, trying to show support. “We're in this together. You have me to lean on.”

You couldn't help but frown. Now she seemed so open with you, it was surprising to think of all the secrets she had kept from you before. There was literally a part of her life you didn't know about. She hid from you for years that she was on a covert mission, that she was babysitting someone else's child from afar, and that a terrorist was one of the ghosts that kept her on the defensive from everyone, including you. And none of that was the worst of it, because that place was occupied, because she didn't even seem to care how that affected you.

You had always been too much for everyone but Emily. She had always known how to carry your weight as if it were no obligation.

At least, that's the way it used to be.

“I know you miss Spencer. I do, too. But I promise you, he's fine.” She interrupted you when she noticed that your voice trailed off and your eyes glazed over, as if you were about to burst into tears just hearing his name. “He's safe.”

Mentioning him so suddenly was like walking through a minefield and hoping a bomb wouldn't go off.

“He thinks we're dead.” You said, feeling a chill run down your spine.

“And we both know why that is.”

“Yeah, but if...” You tried to start talking, but she quickly cut you off.

“Please don't start.” She abruptly put the cup she was holding in one hand down on the table and turned the other away from you. “We've been through this many times.”

Tick.

“But it's not fair.” You got up from your seat suddenly, feeling a couple of tears running down your cheeks and worry welling up in Emily. “It's going to be a month of this already.”

“We're not going back now. It's still dangerous for everyone.” She stood up behind you, trying to talk some sense into you. “We'll come back when it's time.”

Tock.

“And when will it be time? How much longer? You told me it would be a short time and now...” Your daily round of questions since you two had arrived there had begun once again.

“Please stop acting like a little girl.” Emily spoke up before she could think through her words.

Boom.

Oh, that was something your mother would say, not your sister. She would never judge you for being afraid and sentimental.

“Am I a little girl for wanting to know when we will have our lives back?” You asked after a few seconds to process her words. “I'm sorry, I don't have your mental strength to take it. I don't have a JJ to talk to and play online games with every time I drown in here. I don't have anyone but you, and I feel like you don't even trust me.”

The words had come out of your mouth without much thought, and you realized that they might have caused some distress when you saw her expression.

“I trust you, you're my little sister.” She came up to you slowly, trying to show you that what you said wasn't true. “I've known you since you were born. There's no one I trust and care about more.”

“And where was that confidence when you needed help?” The question came out of you automatically before you went to your room.

As soon as you laid your face on the pillow, you thought about how much you needed the people who were away at that moment, especially the one who was your voice of reason. You felt a certain longing for their presence.

September 21st, 2011

Spencer was frozen in place because you weren't there.

There was no trace of your presence in the room, and his heart threatened to burst with pain. His eyes were tired of desperately searching for you, and his mouth was tired of holding back questions about your whereabouts because the answer frightened him.

“I'm really sorry, but I've wanted to tell everyone the truth for a long time.” Emily said after several unexpected hugs and reunions. It was only then that her gaze fell on him. “Reid.”

“She is...?” His voice was cut off before he could finish his sentence. The mere possibility that his mind had been playing tricks on him all this time tore him apart.

“Alive.”

In that moment, all other concerns in his life receded into the background, including the intense discomfort in his hand. His world had once again come crashing down, and the pain he was experiencing seemed to lose its meaning in the midst of it all.

His heart seemed to start beating again after seven months of complete inactivity just by hearing that word. The few tears he had left moistened his eyes, momentarily blurring his vision and preventing him from seeing how everyone around him looked at him. Just one word kept going through his mind.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

You have been alive all this time.

“Where is she?” He asked instantly, anxious. He took another quick look around the room, but you weren't there. “Why isn't she here?”

Just from the apologetic look Emily gave him before she spoke, he knew something was wrong. “I haven't heard from her in almost two months.”

The sentence lingered in the air for a few seconds before it was processed. It was difficult to imagine that you would stay away from your sister for so long. That didn't seem like you.

“Why?” Penelope was so intrigued that she couldn't help but ask the question before anyone else in the room had a chance to. “Is she okay?”

The woman was clearly uneasy under the intense scrutiny of her colleagues, who kept glancing at her as if she were a ghost. “We had a disagreement, and she left. All I know is that she's here somewhere in the city trying to protect all of you.”

As it turned out, Spencer wasn't crazy. He really did see you on the street. It really was you all this time.

“I know this is a bad time, but I was hoping you could help me find her because I really don't know...” Emily tried to speak again, her voice cracking.

At that moment, JJ gently put a hand on her shoulder and approached the group, having spent several minutes in contemplative silence. “We've located her.” She noted respectfully, giving Reid a look that conveyed guilt and regret for what was happening. “And she is here.”

All eyes were riveted to the door of the room at that moment, waiting for you to be there to resolve some doubts and heal other pains. The hearts seemed to explode with the expectation of a new confrontation, of you being part of the miracle.

Because it was a miracle that you and Emily were alive, right?

“Hello.” Your voice echoed in the room and made everything fade away.

The mere sound of your voice, after months of hearing it only through old videos and voice memos, had Spencer leaning on the table with one hand and the other on his heart, trying to keep it from falling out of his chest.

God, you were there. Really there.

It was you again. Unmistakably you.

April 10th, 2011

“Hello?”

The telephone, which had been in your possession, suddenly became detached from your grasp and hung precariously close to the ground. You were overcome with a sudden rush of emotion, your body trembled, your breathing ceased, and your eyes brimmed with tears as you heard your boyfriend's voice.

“Hello? Who is this?” You listened as Spencer repeated when you had the strength to pick up the phone again and put it to your ear. “Hello?”

It's me, I love you, I'm sorry.

That's all you had to tell him, because it was the truth, even though he might not like it and it might ruin his day to find out about your charade. He had a right to know. Especially since he was the best thing in your life and you were the worst thing, causing him so much pain. You shouldn't have to be a psychic to know that he was suffering.

All those candid conversations you had with him about the challenges of losing loved ones were truly impactful. In a way, you were now one of the people he'd lost.

“What are you doing? Who are you talking to?” Emily's voice startled you, so you quickly hung up the phone, trying not to look suspicious. But she knew you too well to deceive her. “Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did.”

You didn't say a word, and that was enough.

“Please.”

“I was just thinking about what if. I didn't do anything, I didn't call anyone.” You raised your hands in innocence and walked away from the phone calmly because you knew you had already hung up. “I'm not a fool.”

That's nonsense. You were a fool for love and always have been.

Perhaps you loved too much, or perhaps you didn't love at all and just enjoyed the feeling of being loved. Your negative thoughts were causing you to doubt the reality of your experiences with Spencer. He seemed too good to be true, and you sought reassurance in his voice to confirm that you weren't losing touch with reality. The idea of trying to explain this to your sister made you feel self-conscious and a bit foolish.

“Okay.” She said in a calm tone, even though he didn't believe a word of it. She took you by the arm gently and spoke again. “I've found a store you'll like.”

You simply nodded and followed her because you felt it was important to avoid making it all about you.

September 21st, 2011

The person you had been waiting months to see had left the room upon seeing you, as if you were some kind of plague threatening to kill him. You felt a sense of loss, as if your heart had died in that instant, while you received the deep embrace of your older sister and the occasional dismayed look from the people who used to know you.

“You should go talk to him.” Emily said, her voice conveying concern and empathy, which caught you off guard. Her hand was still on your lower back, and it felt comforting.

You were at a loss for words, so you simply nodded and left the room to find him.

It was quite remarkable how you were able to locate his troubled figure so quickly after stepping out into the hallway. It seemed as if your intuition had guided you directly to where he was. You felt a pang of guilt as you noticed Spencer standing in front of the large wall with pictures of those killed in action, looking specifically at the lower portion where your picture was next to Emily's. It seemed somewhat incongruous that you were there, given that you no longer officially worked for the FBI and your death hadn't been in the field. However, you assumed someone had pulled strings to put you next to your sister.

“Spencer.” His name came out of your mouth slowly and painfully after you had avoided saying it for seven months. Your arms wrapped around him before you had a chance to think about what you were doing. You just wanted to feel him close and be reassured that he was real. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

He remained silent and still, seemingly unaware of your presence, as you clung to his body like a life preserver in the midst of a storm.

God, you needed him so much.

Just when you thought maybe he hadn't heard you because he hadn't even flinched at your voice, he turned away from you and spoke. “I've been looking at these pictures every day for seven months now, every time I pass by or get a chance to come by. I'm trying to convince myself that you were dead, really dead, and that I'm not freaking out already.” His tone was as cold and sharp as a knife edge. “And now you're here.”

As soon as you became aware of the absence of its presence, you felt a bit disoriented. You took a few seconds to regain your composure before you looked at your picture with a hint of disappointment and considered removing it from the wall, but you realized it was firmly attached and it might not be the most constructive approach. Removing it wouldn't address the underlying issue.

“I'm sorry, it wasn't my...just try to understand me.” You could only stammer at that moment, unable to excuse yourself.

“I can't do it. I understand Emily's motives a little better. She wanted to protect you, us, and herself. But you...” He paused, as if the words weighed so heavily that he needed to take a breath before saying them. “You knew when I was afraid of going really crazy, and yet you let me think I was losing my mind.”

His words had a profound impact, evoking a growing sense of emotional distress. You felt a deep sense of regret for causing pain to someone who had done nothing to deserve it.

“I know I hurt you, but I didn't mean to. I swear.” You spoke to him with a trembling voice, trying to control your need to walk up to him and take his hand in the same loving way as before. “I know you suffered, I did too, and I thought of you every day I was gone.”

He let out a short, frustrated sound and paced the room a few times before meeting your eyes again. You didn't need to take into account what the FBI had taught you about human behavior, because he went way beyond that and none of it was likely to help you now. You had gotten to know Spencer very well and had never seen him as upset as he was now. No manual could help you know what to do.

“I bet you thought about me and felt bad, right? But you know what the difference between us is?” His tone was harsh, but his gaze seemed so fragile it hurt you. “You woke up every day to an empty bed, and I woke up next to a grave. It could never be the same.”

Your lips were sealed because you knew he was absolutely right and nothing you could say would change that.

“Please, Spencer, wait.” You followed him down the hallway before he could leave and saw him stop to look at you doubtfully. You never before imagined that the one who used to watch you with such expectation and love was going to watch you as if you were a phony. “I love you.”

He frowned and lifted his shoulders. “It's too late for that.”

It is possible that it was.

Tag List ♥︎ : @rosieinvienna @florencespirit @jiuseoks @rinsie @guiltyyassin

If you'd like to be included in the tag list, please leave a comment here or in one of the other parts of the series, and I'll add you. It's the same if you want to be removed, just let me know.

[crowandmousewritingco]

Late Nights

Pairing: Marcus Pike x gn!reader

Words: 673

Rating: G (mentions of anxiety spirals)

Summary: Your brain keeps you up and a certain FBI agent keeps you company.

Author: Mod Mouse

Notes: I wrote this after having a particularly bad anxiety night so I hope this helps others when the brain juice is no good. Also unrelated but I'm surprised I've never written for this Marcus before considering my love of art so I have a feeling I will write for him more!

Late nights weren’t a new thing for the two of you. One a curator for the Smithosian’s American Art museum and the other an FBI agent dealing in art forgeries. There was always a case that needed extra work done after office hours. It was typical for the both of you to see the wee hours of the morning fueled by the strongest coffee. 

But today wasn’t one of those times. This time it was your own damn head keeping you up to the wee hours of the morning. At least with the reports you could control when you could fall asleep. But your brain was a fickle creature. Uncontrollable anxiety spiral was the choice for tonight. You had to distract your brain. 

The tv slowly played in your living room. A past favorite show playing as background noise to keep your mind from spiraling anymore. The warm cup of chamomile you held in your hands is your only hope for any semblance of medicine tonight. Absent-mindedly you watched the character repeat the same scenes that at this point you have memorized. 

The female protagonist goes on a date with a guy from her office. He says all the right things and she thinks to herself “I can’t be falling for him.” But the more they talk the more they both realize the same conclusion. Cheesy but you love it. 

You were so sucked into the comfort show that you didn’t realize your husband had walked into the living room. “Honey what’s got you up this late?” You turn to see Marcus standing at the edge of the hallway, flannel robe wrapped around himself. A Christmas present from your first Christmas as a couple all those years ago. 

“You know. Sometimes your brain mixes the wrong kind of cocktail,” You shrugged tiredly. 

Marcus frowned softly. He knew you too well not to notice the use of humor to deflect the situation. “Hun,” He said softly as he sat next to you on the couch. 

Your body unconsciously leaned into his side, like you’ve done for the whole time you’d been together. “Can’t fool you huh?” You chuckled with a sniffle as tears pricked your eyes. 

“Do you want to talk about it? Or you don’t have to. I’m more than willing to stay up with you,” Marcus offered gently, kissing your head. 

You took a minute to gather the scattered remnants of anxious thoughts before you replied. “Just do you ever have those moments where your brain decides to sow some throw away thought but then you hyperfixated on it which makes you spiral. Something like that,” You answer, sighing. 

“Can’t say I’ve ever had exactly that sort of thing happen, but I can imagine that it’s scary.” Marcus gently rubbed your side with his hand. 

“Ya it’s not fun,” You answer cuddling closer into his side. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Marcus asked. “Want me to break out those cookies you bought?” 

You giggled loving Marcus’ need for sweet popping through. “No, I think this tea and you will be enough for me tonight.” 

He smiled and leaned down to kiss your head. “Then that’s what I shall do for you.” Marcus held you close as you two watched your favorite show. The noise and the comfort of your husband is enough to finally allow you to close your eyes and sleep. 

Eventually Marcus noticed your breathing evening out. Carefully he turned off the TV, and set the half-full mug on the coffee table to deal with in the morning. Gently as to not wake you, he scooped you in his arms and carried you back to your shared bed. He laid you down on your side before sliding into the covers on his side. When the blankets covered your both, he leaned over and gently kissed your head. 

“Sweet dreams my little sunflower. I’ll protect you from those awful thoughts.” And with another forehead kiss, he pulled you close as the two of you fell back into a gentle sleep.

All Works Taglist

@for-a-longlongtime @romanarose

Pedro Character Taglist

@littlemisspascal @burntheedges

@carusolikey @thebeldroramscal

@morallyinept @lady-bess

@pedrostories @rivnedell

@pascalsanctuary @readingiskeepingmegoing

Thanks to the lovely @saradika-graphics for the dividers!

[tiyoin]

Tiyoin, I'm starting to yapping again. So I've been thinking about expanding more on the contest in the twst singer au. Like the outfits, posable songs, duets(?), posable challenge in the contest(?), the magic ✨,etc. Side note posable doesn't seem like a real word

For the outfits Vil would have mostly have control over them. Like he'll ask reader about fabrics she likes or give them a few designs to pick from but that's about it. 🌀 would probably wear simple just elegant outfits. Looking good enough to belong there w/o sticking out.

The fits definitely have a purple/blue base/ she has wears accessories that shows others that 🌀 kinds belongs to Vil/ Rook cuz rook is always here and never ever leaves(I think I have a problem). I like to picture the purple getting darker as reader progresses though out the contest as a way to show development in reader/overall.

Next, part of the outfits are the magic masks. With the masks you would only see the contestants' mouth, chin/jaw area. And the magic just makes it hard for people to figure out who is singing. Obviously with different themes/vibes the outfits and masks change with them.

Now onto the duets. In the voice they have the contestants do duets with each other right? So I was thinking there would be smth similar. Maybe with the judges, someone they picked w/o the mask(Rook) or, with a different judge(Neige?) so there's not like any cheating/favoritism ya know?

Like Rook &🌀 singing everything has changed. There's a line that says green eyes and freckles. Idk if rook canonically has freckles but it's a cute though and maybe they're hard to see 🙈 so he's like "🌀 has been staring at me*kicking feet while giggling*"

I'm going to start yapping about what I've been most excited for. The ✨magic✨. I was thinking that they could be fairies like Tinkerbell orrrr they're just little balls of light that fit in your hand. Like they all have little personalities, emotions, families everything.

Overall just mini friends for 🌀. They have different teams for all the contestants but, none of them ever treat them well or acted like they're just tools and, bcuz of that they never do more than the minimum for the contestants.

I think reader is the type to be nice/polite to everyone till there's a reason not to. A treat people how you want to be treated way and, bcuz of that they really help 🌀 in and out if the contest.

I personally like they being little balls more. It seems sweeter/more comforting/ genuine for them and reader that way. Picture them playing in the woods with reader just having fun 💞💞

But If you like them more Tinkerbell like it can be like a seasonal job for them. Imagine how cute it would be if 🌀 sings a love song and 2 of them start dancing together💘(too young by Sabrina Carpenter?)

For the challenges I was thing maybe a writing on. Like theyre given a word/place/object and have to make a song around it and Vil can only help reader a little bit. Maybe that have a acoustic round were the fairies can't help at all. Or they sing a different language.

Honestly I think the hardest part of this is finding the songs. I can so see 🌀 writing most of their songs based off their dreams/stories they read. Tbh I've been listening to So long London the whole time typing this and, can see 🌀 winning a challenge with it. Cuz the other would write/do really poppy songs and reader comes out with the opposite vibe.

Vil & Rook would be there when reader writes it/perform it for the first time and, they're blown away. Like yea they knew wrote her own songs but they never thought it would be that good.

I'm sorry I know I said songs and it turned out only being one. I just don't know what happy songs to give to reader. 😕 Reader just give "I hate feeling this way but i find comfort in the way I feeling" ya know?

ANYWAYS I hope you get a good night's sleep and I love today's chapter. I honestly thought u were writing about me for a moment that's how badly I was relating to 🌀. Sorry if there any mistake it's another 3-4am ask.

MELLLLLL MELLLLLLLLLLLL

VIL AND ROOK WOULD ABSOLUTELY SUBTLY STAKE A CLAIM ON READER VIA CLOTHES. the clothes they wear are 100% pomefiore inspired threads that they designed and crafted themselves. maybe crewel catches wind of this and it becomes a WHOLE fashion operation that mc does NOT want to be apart of (maybe she does, but doesn't feel like she's worthy enough for any of these nice things/ to be pampered over like this)

if the octotrio somehow finds out about this, I can imagine azul or one of the twins making a comment (if mc wears a lilac color that day) that mc looks 'beautiful in octanvinelle's colors and that it suits her more than those saturated colors she's normally wrapped in..' only for vil to take lilac completely out of her wardrobe OR keep it to a minimal 😭

imagining that the masks that get sent to the participants are normally blank, white mascarade masks, but because they're magic they alter with the theme. and so when new one comes out the mask changes to that theme and the participants can make their outfits around the masks.

WITH THE DUETS I CAN IMAGINE NEIGE SIGNING UP FOR THE CONTEST AND THEM GETTING PAIRED UP, ONLY FOR VIL TO RECOGNIZE HIM AND GET PISSED TF OFF😭

"I heard that aggitating, grading voice-"

'maybe I shouldn't of signed up to be a judge....' well thinks with anger as he watches the two of you practice via mirror. im imaging the duets are something like the duets in 'the voice' where you both sing against each other but also with each other.

but also, for some fun, and for a harder round, maybe you have to pick someone in your life (maybe that fits a theme or category?) to sing with you?

and im so glad savannaclaw rook's card came out because our weird king has freckles!! wohoo!!

rook picking a song that kind of describes mc through the lyrics and every time he gets to a line like that he makes -prolonged eye contact- with mc and it kinda messes them up because WHY ARE YOU STARING AT HER LIKE THAT- SIR- SIR???

MEL YOURE A FUCKING GENIUS

I NEBVER EVEN THOUGHT ABOUT FAIRIES

THEY COULD BE THE WORKERS WHO ARE TASKED BY THE COMPETITION TO HELP THE CONTESTANTS STAY WITHIN THE RULES AND TO MAKE SURE EVERYTHING GOES SMOOTHLY

I was thinking the exact same thing tbh, the fairies are treated horribly by the fame hungry contestants who only see them as 'measly employees' or even 'personal servants' to them via the show. but mc would be a little frightened by their gruff attitude but over time, as mc starts treating the fairies with upmost respect and kindness... they start telling their friends and the other fairies. and yeah, they start to favor mc and subtly and I mean SUBTLY sabotage the other contestants

ofc if beige was a contestant he'd treat hem nice too, but the fairies are kinda annoyed by him being TOO kind. because fairies are sassy, VERY sassy .

maybe to everyone else they're balls of light but to the contestants they're fairies? or maybe they only let you see their true form if they like you or trust you enough!

mc singing a love song and a bunch of 'fire flies' start dancing and twirling around them, only for it to be later released that it was the fairies. MAYBE A FAIRY WAS SCOUTING FOR NEW PARTICIPANTS AND THEY COME ACROSS MC AHHHH (at the end of the song when one is on mc's hand it bites her 😭 later that's her assigned fairy)

maybe after losing horribly one round mc is sad and singing a sad song, but the fairies come around and start playing and singing along until it becomes a happy song and they're all dancing. maybe... the fairy that at fist didn't like mc accidentally leaves the camera rolling and the whole of twisted wonderland actually SEES the fairies dancing and singing and playing with mc.

and there's a secret vote that no one in the history of the show has ever gotten. its called 'the fairies favor,' and its only bestowed to those who got eliminated but the fairies disagree with it and veto the vote. but the viewers have to agree with it?

the challenged are gonna be so weird ngl. like one is a theater challenge and another is writing your own song too. the show likes to make it hard- I mean entertaining so the viewers dont get bored. so you TRULY have to be a jack of all trades for this.

I haven't listened to that but I'll def give it a whirl 😼 I like to think that reader is really expressive through song and can come out with bangers. like I think that she def wins a challenge with 'wildflower, by billie eillish' after something bad happens. or maybe 'Andromeda, by weyes blood'

but the songs that mc uses to express her experiences and emotions make rook and vil develop a soft spot for her, and because they're really the only ones who know about all this, she slowly becomes a member (unofficially) of pomefiore (yes! evil scheming DOES work >:) )

[that-trans-autistic-guy]

The Dream of Being in DBD as a Trans Character

as an actor who adores DBD and yearns to bring trans characters to life, this is the story i made for a character that i thought could be brought into the show via an episode focus. so, enjoy:

The plot begins with a client walking in. A ghost boy, no older than eighteen, comes in and asks for their assistance. His friend, who we’ll call Roy, had moved to the UK before the ghost, we’ll call Gilbert, passed away. The two were extremely close and Gil was Roy’s only real friend. Gil’s request is that the agency finds Roy and helps him deliver a last message to his friend. It takes some discussion, but the agency agrees.

We see a teen walking through a high school, head down, headphones on and clearly on the outside (think Edwin’s scene of walking against all the other students). Some jock in a varsity jacket slaps the books out of his hands. One particular book gets kicked down the hallway or something, and the whole hallway watches him go after it. His locker has all sorts of insults scribbled onto it, multiple of which are feminine in nature. Roy just sighs as he exchanges some of his supplies.

We watch him go through classes, just glimpses of classmates glaring, throwing papers at him, etc. He doesn’t respond to it beyond a few resigned expressions and sighs. A bell rings and the hallways are flooded by people going to lunch. Enter Crystal Palace, flanked by Edwin and Charles. She asks if he has a moment to talk and he says something like, “Look, I’m just trying to go eat without getting fucked up. So if you and your ghost boyfriends could just leave me alone, that’d be great.” He walks off, leaving Crystal and the boys extremely confused.

They didn’t think he would be able to see them. Gil had said he’d never said anything about seeing ghosts.

Crystal and the boys talk to the other students about Roy, posing as new/exchange students who’d noticed something about him. None of the students are particularly nice, saying he’s weird and abnormal. They also add in statements saying things like he’s “a girl playing pretend” and other statements like that. It confuses the boys, especially Edwin, but it seems to click for Crystal.

She finds Roy after school, hiding in the art/band room while the hoard of students goes outside to leave. His headphones are still on and he’s on his phone, but his head whips up the second the psychic enters so he’s clearly on high alert. Crystal sits across from him and asks why he could see ghosts.

Roy explains that when he came out, his parents stopped caring. They didn’t provide anything to him and refused to call him by his name. When he was seventeen, his appendix burst. He’d complained for days that his stomach was unbearable and his parents ignored it. It burst at school and he nearly died from their negligence.

His uncle asked for custody and they gave it over without protest. Once he had it, his uncle, who we’ll call Josh, immediately worked on helping him transition. Josh got him to doctors who gave him HRT and helped him legally change his name. When Josh was told he would move to England for his high paying job barely two months later, he got Roy top surgery before they left. He enrolled in school, which had just as much bullying as his last. 

Crystal tells him that his friend, Gilbert, had contacted them to find him and help deliver a message. Roy’s shocked and asked if he could see Gil. The three agree, saying they could arrange something for that night. They make conversation until Roy deems it safe enough for him to leave.

The two friends reunite that night. It’s tearful and emotional. We learn, through conversation or flashbacks, that Gilbert had died shortly after Roy moved away in a car accident. Roy had flown out to be at his best friend’s funeral and had been inconsolable. Gil’s family had let him sit with them, basically his own family. The boys hold each other like they might fade away, resting their foreheads together.

They talk. Gil reassures him that he was okay, that he was glad Roy was still going. He’s sad that Roy hasn’t made any new friends and the boy says he’s scared of letting in the wrong people. He says that maybe he can start with the detectives and Roy agrees that maybe he can. They talk a little more, the two stating that they love each other and similar statements, and Gil’s ready to move on. The blue light appears and he smiles sadly, giving his friend one last hug. He tells Roy to look after himself, asks the agency to look after him, too. Roy is holding in a sob but tells Gilbert to go on and that he’ll see him later, yeah? Gilbert nods and goes with Death, the light disappearing. As it does, we see the ghost boys holding hands, reminded of their own deep friendship and unable to imagine parting.

Roy swipes at his tears as the agency approaches. They all offer their condolences, even a hug maybe, and he accepts. He asks if what they do is helping people move on and they say that it is. He nods and says that he’d like to help them sometimes, to which they all agree. The four of them hang out for a while, letting Roy tell the stories of Gilbert he’d been aching to tell.

I like to think Roy would make a few other appearances, in a similar way to Monty. Edwin would ask him questions about his identity and queer stuff, notebook in hand. Charles and him would mess around, maybe playing jokes on the others. He and Crystal would commiserate over neglectful parents, maybe helping her as she tries to rebuild her life. When Niko comes back, they’d share shows and books they each like. 

Maybe the bullying gets bad and one of the ghost boys goes with him to school, casually tripping the bullies or being silly around them while the bully is oblivious. Roy slowly makes a friend or two at school, and overall comes out of his shell bit by bit.

again, this is just a wild dream i have. the character envelops the themes of love and grief that the show is based on, as well as self acceptance. naturally, i'd love to see any kind of trans character on the show since we are an extremely underrepresented group and the love put into the show would make it excellent. so, naturally, Save Dead Boy Detectives.

[ffroppydisk]

This morning brought this:

Which then led to:

Kevin and loving Jean, a drabble.

mentions of blood, Riko, homophobia

He couldn't indulge, that was something Kevin had known for as long as he had been in the nest.

He knew better.

It didn't matter how badly he wanted to indulge, he couldn't. He shouldn't.

Will you teach me when he's not looking?

It was an urge from inside. He knew it was wrong, but how could he not? Jean was so Jean, with all it entailed, and Kevin was too weak to resist it entirely.

It was a dangerous game, the one he was playing. He knew. He knew that and it haunted his every thought, his every night, his every breath. It was selfish, also. The guilt kept creeping in in the worst possible moments — at night, when he could faintly hear Jean's squirms from the other room with Riko; during breakfast, when he could see each of Jean's bruises, even those that were supposed to be hidden, because he knew where to look for them; during practice, when Jean would limp his way through the field to get to his spot.

Gay's a sin.

So he knew it would be easier to remain heterosexual.

And when he doubted it, he could just see the way Riko reacted to each whisper, to each rumour, to each speculation about it. It was easier. It was mandatory, for him. It was important, apparently. He had suffered all his life to get where he was, he could not throw it out for an impulse.

Plus, if word ever came out, the worst share would be Jean's. He could not allow it, not when Jean would have deserved better than that.

I'm glad you're here, Jean had whispered once, underneath his breath. Riko was sleeping, just one bed over, and it was a dangerous game. It was. He still replied, I'd never want to be anywhere else, but he knew he shouldn't have. Not when he could see how Jean looked at him.

Not when that was all he ever wanted. To indulge in the touch, to indulge in the feeling, to tell Jean that he loved him like that as well.

Not when Riko had teased him about it once, telling him that he could have arranged something for him if he wanted to have some fun with him. (He said no, he didn't want to. Sometimes he still wondered if that was the right answer for Riko).

Not when Kevin kept dreaming of him, of an intimacy he craved deep in his bones, but knew he could never have.

Not when it was so dangerous for Jean as well.

He never said anything again about it, Jean picking up on that rather quickly. It hurt, but it was for the best.

When Thea came around, it became a curse in disguise. He had had Riko's blessing to act on it once (he didn't need to know it had happened more than once), and Jean decided to help.

He didn't love Thea per se, nor did Thea love him. It was just a distraction for both of them, each from their own thing. Thea never asked, and Kevin was so glad about that he thought it only fair to never ask anything as well.

They shred notes, every now and then. Jean would be the messanger, for some reason. More than once, Kevin would forget who the love note was supposed to be for when he gave them to him to pass them on. More than once, Kevin selfishly hoped for Jean to read it, call him out on about his game, tell him anything about it that wasn't "Thea said..." or "From Thea", call him out on his bluff.. He never did, but Kevin never stopped hoping. When he wrote "I hope to see you tonight", when he wrote "You were amazing today", when he wrote "This place without you would be unbearable", when he would write "for my backliner" at the top of each note. It was dumb, and it made his heart ache. However, he couldn't help it, so he let it be. If Thea knew, she never said anything.

I need to leave. Four simple words that held thousands of thoughts, of fears, of doubts.

Jean looked at him as if he had grown a couple extra heads. Riko had left barely a minute before, the blood was still pouring from Kevin's hand.

Jean nodded only once, then. If so, be it.

And Kevin indulged once more, come with me. His heart was already breaking, so it would have cost him close to nothing to give Jean the knife to twist in it.

My place is Evermore.

Kevin didn't look at him on the way to the car, too scared to chicken out.

He never regretted leaving the Nest.

He'd forever regret leaving Jean.

He'd learn to live with that.

[dragon-tamer-1]

Aftermare Week 2024

Day2(6): Destroy(ed)/(Re)Building

Geno was hanging upside-down from the Tree of Feelings, just above where Nightmare was. Nightmare was reading a book he got from the library. Nightmare's thoughts wandered, he couldn't help but think on how the last year went. The villagers, particularly the ones who were very hostile to him, were starting to actually give him a chance. He can't help but to believe that Geno arriving here was the cause of it, though it took a while for this to happen. They still bullied and hurt him after Geno showed up, but Geno had started protecting him. Something that Dream never-... No, it wasn't Dream's fault. Dream didn't know it was happening, or at least didn't know the extent of it. He wished he said something before, now, as things were getting better with both Geno and Dream advocating for the villagers to stop abusing him(he wasn't sure if that's what he'd call it, but Geno insisted that's what they were doing to him). He's incredibly grateful for Geno, even if he went and told Dream after the last time the bad villagers attacked him when he didn't want him to. He couldn't deny that it felt better to have his brother know about it now, though, not after the results that came afterwards.

The villagers no longer unofficially banned him from entering the village with or without his brother(they never said he wasn't allowed but the way they treated him pretty much implied it), some of them were still wary of him, but they were starting to warm up to him it seems. Some of them even apologized for not helping him sooner, they were some of the ones who weren't mean to him, though they never helped much before, if they knew at all. He certainly didn't want to dwell on how many people might not have known what was happening to him, or who knew what was happening and didn't care.

Overall, it's only been good ever since Geno arrived, they even started dating a month ago. Geno still misses his brother, but he's been happy here.

Noticing the position of the sun as being roughly noon, Nightmare was about to ask if Geno wanted to grab a bite to eat for lunch. But before he did, there seemed to be a sudden flash of light. And as soon as the light faded and he could see again, there was what he could only describe as a tear in the air beside Geno. He immediately dropped the book as he jumped up, and Geno, still partially blinded, falls off the branch trying to right himself. Just as Nightmare was about to catch him, the tear started to drag Geno in. He grabs Geno's scarf in one hand and tries to reach for his hand or something to try to keep him from going through the tear. Neither of them know what's on the other side, and they don't want to find out.

Unfortunately, it was not enough. Geno was pulled through, but not before his scarf was pulled from his neck, leaving Nightmare with only his scarf. Nightmare and Geno had one last look at each other, tears in their eyes as they realized this was the last time they'd see each other and horror at what was happening, then the tear in space closed.

Nightmare clutched the scarf as he broke down, and soon after rain clouds have gathered. Dream returned after it started pouring and as soon as he saw how distraught his brother was he ran to him. He nearly slipped on the grass, but caught himself. He noticed Geno was nowhere in sight but his priority is his brother right now.

"Brother, what's wrong? Are you ok? Are you hurt? Where's Geno, I don't see him? Wait, is that his-"

"He- he's gone, he's gone and I-I couldn't- I couldn't *hic* save him. He- I-..."

"Brother, Night, please, slow down. You have to breath, okay? What happened? Geno's gone?"

He took a few deep breaths, and tried to explain what happened, having to pause between sobs. Dream started crying along with him as what happened sank in. Geno, his brother's partner, his friend, the one who ultimately helped both of them in different ways, was gone. He protected his brother when he was unable to, even when he wanted to so bad, but didn't want to pressure his brother when he didn't want to talk to him about what was happening with the villagers. He helped him set firmer boundaries with the villagers, not letting them overwork him like they were, and in the end he and Nightmare were feeling closer than before now that they weren't keeping things from each other. All they could do in this moment was mourn Geno, as they hugged each other in the pouring rain.

~meanwhile~

Geno landed on the other side of the tear very disoriented. Upon trying to stand he noticed that everything was dark, an almost unfamiliar type of dark. He also noticed the familiar glitching over his right eye socket. Then a small presence ran up to him on his blind side and almost knocked him over.

"Agh! What the- Frisk!?"

"You were gone for so long, where were you!?"

"I-"

"Wait, you're crying, are you okay? What happened?"

"Woa-"

"You're not hurt, are you? Where's your scarf?"

"Stop!! What do you care, anyway!?"

"... I'm sorry. I was just... I'll go."

Frisk left to the only patch of grass in the Save Screen, though they were still worried about him. He was gone for so long, and they had no idea what happened to him. They wanted so bad to comfort him right now, as much as they knew that they probably weren't who he wanted near him. They did a lot to him, so they knew he wouldn't trust them. But he's clearly going through something right now.

Some time later, Geno had gotten up, but still felt defeated. So he was back in the Save Screen, huh? Was this what he deserves? Is this the karma he deserves for not protecting Papyrus that first Genocide route? Doomed to be stuck here with the kid who started it all? To do nothing but watch as Chara continues to Reset and do whatever they want? Is he really not allowed to be happy? Even once?

He shakes these thoughts out of his head for now, he can have another mental/emotional breakdown later. He looks over to Frisk, and regrets what he said earlier. As much as he wants to stay mad at them, his year with Nightmare and his brother Dream has given him a lot of time to process and think over what he's been through, and also think about Frisk and their ability to Reset. He can't help but think how the power could have made it too easy to want to do things again and again. He doesn't think he can forgive them yet, but he can certainly be a bit kinder to them.

He walks over to them and moves to sit beside them.

"Hey, I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. You didn't deserve that."

Frisk, surprised, just stared at him for a moment. "What?"

"You didn't deserve to be yelled at for worrying about me. I shouldn't have said that. I was, am still dealing with another loss I just had. To answer your earlier questions, I had been transported to some other world very different than ours. One that seemed to have humans and monsters getting along, well, for the most part. And there were two brothers I met there, they were called Dream and Nightmare. They helped to take care of me, even when I was... stubborn. The reason for me crying was because I had been forcibly taken from there when I had been there for a year and had grown pretty close with the two, especially one of the brothers, Nightmare. I helped them as well, Nightmare was being abused by the villagers there because of a stupid assumption or rumor that they thought was fact. Put a stop to that nonsense, and also got the two brothers to start telling each other these things."

Frisk let him talk about all that happened, and couldn't help but feel both happy and sad for Geno. It seemed like he was able to be happy where he ended up, but the fact he had been dragged back here..., it was so unfair.

Eventually, they both started talking about how they could maybe fix their situation without actually destroying the timeline like Geno was initially planning to do. His time with Dream and Nightmare had given him time to think about what he would've even accomplished by doing so, and how unfair it was to everyone else that he decided their fate for them. So he had decided that he would figure something else out if he was able to come back on his own. Except that was when he was kinda wanting to go back to Papyrus more than hanging out with the brothers.

"Okay, so what can we do about Chara? I think we both can agree they can't be allowed to keep killing everyone."

"Yeah, what about still bringing them here? But I don't know what we could do after that."

"That's a start, at least. Let's see what Sans is up to."

As he says this, he opens up a window to where Sans is, after a moment to remember how he did it in the first place. The window shows Sans in the Judgement Hall, and observing for a while longer reveals that Chara is back to killing the entire Underground. 'Seriously? How many times has this gone on since he was gone? Don't they get bored of doing this over and over?'

There's nothing left to do but wait, Geno remembers that it's easiest to get Sans here while he's unconscious or a Reset happens. And soon enough, Sans gets hit, dies, and then the Reset happens. Geno snaps his fingers, and Sans is in the Save Screen.

Sans was confused, where was he? As he turns around, he remembers where this is. It's been a long time since he was here, and he was starting to worry about Geno with how long it's been without him summoning him into the Save Screen. And, wait, where is his scarf? And last he remembers, he wasn't fond of Frisk, yet he seems to be rather chill with them.

"Heya, been a long time, huh?"

"Yeah, it has been a while, sorry for disapperin' on ya, there was apparently an unplanned vacation I was sent on."

"What? I thought you couldn't leave this place?"

"I thought so too, but whatever it was that transported me there also made it so I was fine. I don't really know how that worked. But then after I had been comfortable there, I was transported back here, and for all I know, I'm still not able to leave here without dying. But, enough about that for now. I wanted to talk to you about how we can stop Chara."

Sans let out a disappointed sigh, "if this is about destroying our timeline, it's still a no."

"Oh, no, no it's not that, actually. Though I guess it can still be a backup if we really can't solve this a different way-"

Frisk decided to speak up, "We're not destroying our timeline, Geno."

"So then, what was this new plan?"

"There isn't much of a fully thought out plan, but first step is to bring Chara here. But we don't know what step two would be because I don't know how we can stop them completely."

"Ah, so we're just brainstorming things, then?"

"Pretty much."

"Hm, well, what if..."

~Timeskip to after the events of Aftertale happen and Geno is on the Surface with everyone(I'm lazy and have to progress to the rest of the story without this basically retelling all of the climax of Aftertale. Just pretend that the end of Aftertale had this kind of background with Geno not attacking Sans after getting Chara and Papyrus into the Save Screen. Also I'm just leaving this in here cause why not XD)~

Geno looked out at the sunset atop Papyrus' shoulders. He can't say that he regrets anything he's done, aside from making things harder on Sans. It's all worth it to see Papyrus again, and knowing that there won't be anymore Resets is very reassuring to him. And this view, as much as he's seen it before, is probably one of the most beautiful sights he's seen of the Surface. It's no view from that hill of the large flower field in the moonlight in the other world he spent a year in, though.

... He misses Nightmare and Dream. He can't help but wonder what they'd think of this. Surely they miss him, too.

"WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT, NEW BROTHER? YOU LOOK A LITTLE SAD."

"Oh, it's nothing. I just miss a couple of people is all. You remember the story I told you about the two brothers in the other world I was in?"

"OH, YES. I MAY NOT KNOW WHO THEY ARE, BUT I KNOW THEY ARE VERY IMPORTANT TO YOU. I'M SURE YOU'LL SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN SOMEDAY, I JUST KNOW IT!"

"Heh, I'm not sure about that, but I sure hope so."

"NYEHEH!"

As time went by, Geno grew accustomed to life on the Surface alongside his two brothers, Sans and Papyrus. But even as he was happy to finally be by Papyrus' side, he couldn't deny that he missed Nightmare terribly, sometimes to the point he refused to leave his room. He was starting to wonder how he could visit that world. To go back there. The urge to see Nightmare and Dream again only grew as time went on.

So, after a year and a half on the Surface, he starts testing out the limits of his Determination. After all, Determination had kept him from dying and also got him into the Save Screen, so why wouldn't it be able to transport him to a different world? He had to try it or he would never know. So he's in the basement experimenting with Determination, and he mixes an unstable sample of Determination with a stable sample. It has the unfortunate reaction of destabilizing completely and explodes in a blast of piercing white light.

When he next gains consciousness, the only thing he sees is white, blindingly white nothing. He immediately squeezes his eyes shut, trying to adjust his eyelights to his new and unfamiliar surroundings. "Where am I? How...?" Squinting his eyes open a bit, he slowly realizes he isn't having aftereffects from the blast earlier, but that this is indeed a white void. Completely different than the Save Screen, and yet somehow just as lonely.

"Hello? Is anyone out there!?" He listened as his voice echoed in the space, how big was it? The echoes kept bouncing between invisible walls and only faded about a minute later, was it a minute? It must have been, surely. He tests the "floor," and finds that he's definitely on something solid. And starts wandering in what he thinks is a straight line, hoping to find some kind of, well, anything really.

~Timeskip, Geno is now Error, and doesn't remember anything prior to becoming Error~

It's been four years since Geno had disappeared, and while he still misses him, things are alright. Nightmare and his brother, Dream, now had a proper house near their Tree. Some of the villagers even helped build it with them. It has three bedrooms, one for Dream, one for Nightmare, and a guest bedroom. Though both of them knew the real reason they insisted it had three bedrooms, it was for Geno should he by some miracle come back to them. They knew that, by now, it was less and less likely to happen. Dream had been trying to be positive about the possibility, but even he had doubts, and Nightmare knew that. Nightmare was inconsolable for nearly a month after Geno's disappearance. He also started avoiding the villagers again for a while, too, anxious that they would start going back to how they treated him before Geno was there.

Thankfully, the villagers understood that he was going through a very hard time, and gave him space. Some had also gifted him little treats and notes to try to help comfort him, most were given through Dream though, but there were a few occasions that someone was able to give their gift to him in person. It took a while for Nightmare to get used to the idea that the villagers wouldn't hurt him and put his anxieties to rest on that. He's always seen wearing Geno's scarf, too, it brings him some comfort.

Today was a nice day, the sun was out and it was warm, but not unbearably so. Dream was out entertaining the village children while he was taking a walk and hearing out a villager's issues and trying to help them to solve/deal with them. It was going well before a portal opened up a few feet behind them. Nightmare turned to it and froze. It was like the tear that took Geno away.

Turning back to the villager, he said, "I think we're going to have to talk later, I have to deal with this." The villager nodded and ran off.

The portal was blocky and didn't hold a solid shape, shifting and also had a strange sound coming from it. As he was studying this portal's strangeness, someone came through it! It closed behind them, and the strange sound faded, but didn'tstop. It seemed to also come from the stranger. Looking at the new stranger, they looked so odd, even for a monster. Their bones were black, oh- wait, their fingers were yellow and red, and so was what he could see of their spine. And the legs are also red it seems- Wait, stop staring, it's rude. And they were wearing a red sweater with a midnight blue jacket and black shorts and... black slippers? Actually, no, that's not the weirdest thing someone can wear, and even then, it's not really a problem. The weirdest thing was that their entire figure looked like they were... not fully together?? Their figure had square chunks of them jumping in and out of their body, and the word 'Error' was randomly placed along their body.

He was going to ask them their name and what they wanted when he noticed that they were looking frantically around them, visibly distressed and on the verge of a panic attack. He saw the signs, and having had panic attacks before, knows how to deal with it. He was just going to have to hope that what helped him out of those panic attacks would help this person.

"Hey, it's okay, here, breathe in, two, three, four, hold it in for five seconds, and breathe out for six. Ready?"

He helped the stranger through the panic attack, and thankfully they're now calm. Both of them are now sitting in the grass, Nightmare had guided the other down so that if they were to pass out they wouldn't fall from standing up. They were currently looking at the grass like they had never seen grass before, so that concerned him a bit. The sound seems quieter.

He cleared his throat before speaking, "Uh, hey, how are you doing? Feeling any better?"

They looked up at him, "Y-Yeah, I'm feelin-ng better now, tha-thank you-u. You look v-very ni-ice. Very colorfu-ful."

Nightmare, caught off guard, felt his face heat up. "U-uh, thanks? You're pretty colorful yourself."

"You look kinda-a familiar for some re-reason, but you're the f-first person I've me-met. So I don't kn-ow why I would recogn-nize you."

"I do? That does sound odd, huh? Ah! I had forgotten about introductions. I'm Nightmare, what's your name?"

"Oh, I'm, uhh-uh..." He squinted his eyes in thought as he tried to remember his name. "... Error, that'ssss it. Yeah, my na-name is Err-ror."

"It's nice to meet you, Error. Where did you come from? You were pretty freaked out when you got here."

"I'm n-not too sure? I don't know w-what the place is-s-s, but there's ju-ust, nothing in there? Hold-d-d on I think I can open a port-tal back there? I'm pretty new t-to this though..."

Error concentrates before waving a hand through the air in front of them, and the strange noise that's been there gets stronger again. The portal opens, and Nightmare can only see white. He can't see anything else in there, and looking for a while is starting to hurt his eyelights.

"Is that really what it looks like? It's just white. How long have you been in there?"

"Yeah, it's pre-retty barren, b-but it's kinda al-l I know? I thi-ink? I don't rememb-er anything else bef-fore I woke up there. And I-I don't know how long-ng I've been there, it just felt li-i-ike a very long time? Or was it a short tim-me? I'm not sure..." He closed the portal again.

"Would you like to stay here? We have a spare guest room you can stay in. My brother wouldn't mind you staying as you get used to this place if you do stick around. It's better than white nothing, right?"

"Hmm-mm, I guess I cou-ld. There's s-s-so many colors her-ere, it's... nice, I thin-nk."

Nightmare thought that last statement was a bit odd, but then again, the guy was in an empty white void, for lack of better terms, for however long he was in there. Colors would be a bit of an adjustment to someone who was devoid of most colors.

"Alright, let me guide you there, then. I'm going to have to tell Dream about this. I think you'll like him."

"Really?"

"Yeah, he's good at making friends. I'm getting the hang of it, but still like to not be around too many people at once. It's this way."

Nightmare waved him over, leading him back to his and Dream's home. On the way back Nightmare couldn't help but think about how Geno first appeared. It's rather odd how two different people managed to arrive in this place from somewhere completely foreign to him. It couldn't be related, right? No, it's just a coincidence.

Soon enough, they arrived. 'Oh, looks like Dream returned from the village early. Better for us, I can tell him everything now than wait until he gets home later.' Nightmare waved at Dream, who waved back.

Dream had fun with the villagers' children, but had decided to head back for the day. Once getting back, he realized his brother hadn't returned yet, so he went to get some food ready. He was still learning to cook from Saphire, the village's tavern cook, so it was going to be sandwiches for today. She was nice, and had offered to teach both of the brothers as a way to help them have their own means of providing food for themselves. It was so that neither Dream nor Nightmare had to rely on the villagers' generosity to avoid any possible future issues that came from any of the villagers taking advantage of them.

After making a couple sandwiches, he went outside to wait for Nightmare. He decided to busy himself with tending the flowers in their front garden. A few minutes later, he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye, and knew instantly it was Nightmare. Looking over to the forest, he saw Nightmare with a new person. He waved back at Nightmare after he waved, but was intrigued by the new person following him.

As they approached, Dream noticed more details about the new guy, including his strange appearance. He seemed rather relaxed before he saw him, but now seemed nervous. He also kept looking around at everything, almost like seeing the world for the first time.

"Hi, brother! Who might this be? Make a new friend?"

"Hi, Dream, this is Error. Error, this is my brother, Dream. He just appeared out of a portal a little while ago. He came from some kind of white void? And I offered for him to stay here instead of wherever that place was. I don't know much about the place, but I can't help but feel like that isn't a good place to live long-term. It's okay if he stays, right?"

Dream blinked in surprise, that was not what he expected, but quickly agreed. "Of course he can stay! Oh, I made some sandwiches, I should make a few more, I hope you like them!" And he ran into the house to make a few more sandwiches, leaving Nightmare and Error outside.

"Is he a-always that energeti-tic?"

"Most times, yeah. Is it too much for you? I can let him know to calm down a bit. He's just excited to meet someone new, is all."

"N-No, I think it's alri-right. Reminds me of-f...." Error pauses, trying to think of what Dream reminded him of.

"... You alright?" Nightmare asked, concerned.

"Hm? Oh, yea-ah, just thought that y-your brother reminded m-e-e of someone, but I don't r-remem-mber who. It's fine, though. Wh-What are these 'sandw-wiches' that he was talking abou-out?"

"Oh, it's a kind of food that consists of different ingredients that is put between two slices of bread, or sandwiched."

"Oh, that's kin-n-nd of cool. I'll try-y them, then."

Nightmare and Error entered the house, and while Dream was making more sandwiches, Nightmare showed their new guest the spare bedroom and pointed out his and Dream's rooms and let him know that if he needs anything at night, he's welcome to let either of them know. Nightmare just hoped that if Geno does show up again somehow, by whatever miracle, he wouldn't mind him giving Error the room he hoped would be Geno's.

He fidgeted with Geno's scarf later, after they had all eaten their fill of sandwiches. Though he will admit Error's method of eating was... unexpected(why did he have five tongues??). But it was a nice early dinner. It had surprised him just how late it was when he brought Error back, though, it didn't seem like it took that long. And there's still the question of what that strange sound that seems to be ever-present around Error. Something he'll have to ask another time.

So this is it! It is done! Ok, there are a couple of ideas I played around with in this. First, Dream and Nightmare have a very slight effect on the weather, if Nightmare and/or Dream are very distraught, it will be cloudy and possibly start raining. If either or both of them are very happy, it will be more sunny, but not hot. The other idea is that the Multiverse is not on a universal timer. A lot of AUs go at different speeds, and it's kinda rare to find any two AUs that are both the same speed and are at the same time of day as each other. And the Anti-Void is already known to be outside of any of that and fluctuates in time.

@bluepallilworld @shinechermont

The only thing I couldn't decide at first was if Error was already able to leave the Anti-Void before coming to Dreamtale, or if it's the first time he's left the Anti-Void. Ultimately, I decided to go the route of him first leaving the Anti-Void into Dreamtale. He will go back every now and then and explore the Multiverse from here, but he will always come back here. He won't realize that the reason is that he subconsciously knows this place was a home to him before he became Error, but that will happen in time.

Also this would have been posted on day 2 if I finished everything on time, but it's now in a kinda limbo where it's both on time but also late XD

[alastor-simp]

Alastor x Reader - Sleeping On His Lap

Here is my attempt at a Alastor x reader fanfiction. Took me awhile to kinda get into his character so please don't be mad if Alastor seems a bit off. Enjoy!

Sigh, it was another eventful day at the Happy Hotel, or Hazbin Hotel as it was now called as a certain deer demon decided to change the name. You had spent all day doing certain tasks around the hotel such as helping Charlie create posters for the hotel, clean the rooms with Nifty, break up the brawl between Vaggie and Angel Dust as he had pissed her off one too many times and organize the bar for Husk as he was passed out drunk. You could have refused to do these things, but you enjoyed helping people, so it made it all worth it.

You had started working at the hotel after you had saw Charlie singing on the 666 news about the hotel and redeeming demons, only for her idea to be made a laughing stock upon everyone who watched the broadcast. You actually had mixed feelings about the whole redeeming thing, seeing as you weren't sure if someone like you could be sent to heaven, despite not being a very big criminal during your time when you were alive, but apparently doing a little shoplifting is enough to send you a one way ticket to hell. Charlie's words did inspire you a little bit, so even if you felt that you couldn't be redeemed, others probably had a better chance, so you decided to head to the hotel and ask for a job after the broadcast was cut off from the brawl with Charlie and Katie Killjoy. You were hired in a split second and immediately pulled into a bear hug by Charlie, and then introduced you to the others.

Back to the present, you began to feel extremely exhausted from moving around everywhere, so you headed over to one of the rooms with the long couches so you could take a rest. Heading into one of the rooms, you peeped around and saw that no one was there, which made it better as you really needed some peace and quiet. Heaving a deep sigh, you sat down on the couch, turning and falling back, as you laid your body down, with your head facing the front of the couch. "What a long day", thinking to yourself as your eyes slowly began to close and you were lulled into a deep sleep.

**2 Hours Later**

As you were sleeping, you felt the sensation of someone petting your head, the soothing feeling had awoken you a bit, but you quickly fell back asleep at the warm touch. You could feel that you were holding something in your dreams, and you assumed it was one of the pillows on the couch, so you brought it closer to your face and nuzzled it. "Mm, smells nice ", as the scent from the pillow was making you more relaxed, as it reminded you of a being in the middle of a deep forest. After sleeping for 30 more minutes, you slowly began to open your eyes, and try to make out what was in front of you. Expecting to see a pillow, you saw red stripes in front of you, "Huh?" As you were still trying to make out what was in front of you, a loud voice interrupted your thoughts: "Ah, awake now are we?", said a static voice above you. Eyes opening wide, you looked up from your position and saw Alastor staring down at you with his trademark smile. Slowly, you began to piece together that you were laying on his lap, and nuzzled into his chest as you were sleeping. "AHHHH", jumping up from your position, you rolled off his lap, and your body fell to the ground as you stared at Alastor in shock, as he continued to look at you with his glowing eyes, amused at your reaction. "Um, h-how long was I sleeping on your lap?", you softly asked, as your face was red, but your eyes were showing fear, as you remembered that Alastor did not like to be touch, and you happened to hug him in your sleep. "HAHA, For quite a while, darling. It was a very busy day, I assume?", Alastor said as he placed his arm on the armrest of the couch, and his hand against his cheek, smiling even wider.

Nodding your head, you slowly got up from your position, and started apologizing to Alastor, eyes aiming towards the ground and fingers twiddling together. Alastor raised an eyebrow and wondered why you were apologizing, to which you answered that you had hugged him in your sleep, and that he made it very aware that he did not enjoy physical contact from someone unless he initiated it, feeling extremely bad if you made him uncomfortable. Listening to you, Alastor's smile relaxed to a small grin as he looked at you with gentle eyes. He did admit that he was not use to being touch by others, and was quite surprised from the sleep hug, but he didn't detest it as much coming from you, which boggled his mind completely. It must be due to your kind and innocent nature that made him react different around you, as he was used to more of the common riff raff being terrified of him or trying to battle in a turf war, but how you were with him, made his black heart melt.

Feeling that Alastor was upset as he didn't respond to your apology, you quickly excused yourself and began to head over to the door to leave. A loud SNAP was heard and before you knew it, you had been teleported back on to the couch, this time being seated on Alastors lap. "A-Al, what are you doing?!", your face began to become as red as his hair, while your eyes stared at Alastor in shock. Smiling at you, Alastor moved his hand to your chin and tilted your face up: "There is no need to apologize, darling. If I had been upset about you hugging me, you possibly w̩͉͍̱̍̂̉̊o̫̼̐̎̋͜u͚͌l̳̓d̠͉̗͋̔͞'̼̳̣̼͊̏̾̾t͜͝ ͕̱͐͠ḇ̅e̙͗ ͍͓͔̱͍͛̔͌͘͞a̝̜̘̎́͒ḽ͒í̱̙̈́v̧̌e̠͠ ̢̹̜́́̈̀ͅr̲͇̳̅̽͌i̩͈̒̅ĝ̲̦̎ẖ̛̳̲͙̀͌̽͘ͅt͉̅ ͖̞͍̞́̋͛͛ň͚̫̦́͂̿͟o̱͌w̡̕" he said, as his eyes flashed for a second into radio dials. "However! I am not opposed to be touched by you. So no need to apologize, my dear.", Alastor said as he continued to smile at you widely, but his glowing eyes were looking at you softly, letting you know that he was not angry with you. Feeling shy, you turned your head away from Alastor, muttering a soft okay, as your heart was beating rapidly. "Smile my dear!" Alastor said as he moved his hand from your chin to your cheek, to have you look at him again. Baring through the embarrassing situation, you gave Al a small smile, which pleased him. "You always over do it, darling. While Charlie and I appreciate your efforts at helping the hotel, it does no good to work yourself to the point of fatigue. If you are ever feeling exhausted and need a break, don't be hesitant to come find me, as my radio tower is open to you. Understand, my dear?" said Alastor, as he leaned closer towards you, making you flustered again.

Nodding your head was enough to let Alastor knew you understood as he chuckled, while sliding you off his lap, and as he stood up from the couch. "Now then, we should probably head back to the lobby before the others get worried about our lack of presence.", He said, as he straighten his coat out, while turning towards you, extending his hand out for you to take it. "Yeah we should", as you grabbed his hand, and made your way with him back to the lobby. You were still trying to process what just happened between you and Alastor, but you feel like you both have become much closer then before, and you didn't mind it one bit.

[roanofarcc]

WORTH YOUR WHILE

pairing. Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary. as the local weather woman, you shared an interesting rivalry with your hometown storm-chaser. while you always reported on the dangerous weather from a safe distance, tyler barreled into it head-first. but things change the night of the county fair when you find yourself in the middle of a storm rather than in the safely of a newsroom. 

warnings. dramatic fluff, hurt/comfort, description of tornados, a curse word or two, description of injury, slightly inaccurate meteorological info.

word count. 2.9k || masterlist

a/n. hopping on the glen powell bandwagon bc he and daisy absolutely killed it in twisters!! feel free to send me requests for tyler, kate, and javi!

“If you keep looking at him like that your face will get stuck in a scowl, which is really bad for television,” your friend said, leaning into your side. With a roll of your eyes, you managed to pull your attention away from the self-titled ‘tornado wrangler’ who had stirred up a fuss in the line for funnel cakes. People buzzed all around him as he signed shirts and took photos, never dropping his smile that you often dreamed about smacking right off of his face. 

You had grown up alongside Tyler Owens, never as friends but as friends of friends. After you both split off for school to study meteorology, you returned to your hometown for very different reasons. Tyler started in the business of storm chasing, live streaming his adventures to people all across the internet who sensationalized the dangerous weather, and you scored a job as your hometown’s Weather Woman. Your job was to warn people about the threat of tornados while his was to drive head-on into them. 

That was where you two drew your lines in the sand when it came to each other. He thought you were scared of taking risks while you thought his thrill-seeking was stupid and would eventually get him or one of his team members hurt. Those opinions on each other's job led to you two butting heads every time you encountered one another. His mere presence was enough to annoy you, especially at your favorite event of the summer, the fair. 

“Look who it is,” Tyler’s voice sounded near you and your friend nudged your arm in the direction of it. You looked away from her just as he approached you, tipping his hat and flashing his teeth in a smile. “Didn’t know they still let you out of the newsroom these days.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, as the air of arrogance surrounding him nearly choked you out. “Don’t you have a tornado to chase?” you asked, wanting to end the conversation before it fully started. Unfortunately, he never seemed put off by your jabs, but he was assumed by them. 

“I took the night off,” he replied. “I wanted to see if there was anything worth my while here tonight.” 

You raised your brows. “Oh really?” He nodded, smiling brightly at you. “Find anything yet?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’d be easier if she answered my phone calls.” 

Tyler disliked you a whole lot less than you disliked him. After you graduated and he started storm chasing, he tried at every given opportunity to get you to join his team. Even years later he still tried to, no matter how many times you told him the risk he was putting himself and his team in every time they barreled into a storm cell. He was relentless but you were happy where you were at. You wanted to help people when it came to severe weather, not make the storm look enticing for internet audiences. 

“I already told you, I’m not interested.” Storm chasing was a dangerous game that you had no intention of playing. Being from the Midwest, you had lived through your share of tornados. Chasing them was not in apart of your career path.

His smile faded slightly before he seemed to snap back to himself. “All I’m saying is, we could use a mind like yours out in the field.” The compliment was nice, you could admit that to yourself, but it wouldn’t win you over. He knew that too. “But suit yourself.” And with that he walked off, meeting up with the rest of his team that joined him at the fair that night. 

Your friend whistled lowly. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. 

“Do what?” 

“Say no to a man like that.” You rolled your eyes once more as the line you were in moved. As she stepped forward to order, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder in the direction Tyler had walked off in. You saw him happily chatting with his team before glancing back at you for just a moment before you returned your gaze forward.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of colorful lights, sticky heat, and enough fried food to make your stomach ache in the best possible way. Your friend left after a couple hours of roaming the prize barns and laughing at the kids screaming their heads off on the carnival rides, but you stuck around for a little longer, relishing in the sweet nostalgia the fair brought you. 

Before you had taken a couple of well-deserved days of work, you and your team had predicted a storm front moving. Later that night was supposed to bring rainfall and a thunderstorm or two popping up around the county and neighboring areas. You thought you’d have plenty of time to roam the fair for a little longer until it hit, but you noticed the shift in the weather almost immediately. The sudden uptick in wind pricked the back of your neck as the distant rumble of thunder echoed above the fair chaos. 

It was difficult to predict everything, that you had learned early on in your career. It also was hard to predict how quickly weather could change from bad to deadly. One moment you’re gazing up through the lights into the night sky, trying to gauge the incoming storm, and the next, the sirens are blaring across the fairgrounds. 

The crowd of people running in every direction made the walkways hazardous. You were knocked into and jostled around as you tried to run toward the restrooms that doubled as storm shelters. They were clear at the opposite end of the walkway, but they were your closest option. You dodged and weaved through the swarms of people, trying to stay on your feet. 

You only made it halfway to the shelter when you were stopped by the awful cries of a little girl who sat under the counter of one of the carnival games. She hugged her knees to her chest and called out for her mom, but no one who rushed by stopped. You didn’t think twice before you sidestepped the fleeing crowd and crouched down in front of the little girl. The wind picked up significantly, blowing the cheap prizes right out of the booths and sending everything flying around and knocking into people. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you raised your voice above the howl of wind and frantic people. 

“My mom!” she cried harder. “I lost her. I don’t know where she is!” 

You glanced back up at the sky. The lightning strikes illuminated the massive, dark mass moving in quickly. “Come with me, and I’ll help you find her, okay?” 

The noise all around grew louder, frightening the little girl, along with yourself, but as you outstretched your hand, she took it, and you quickly pulled her to her feet before you both took off running. The speakers urged everyone to seek shelter immediately, but you watched as people raced in the opposite direction of the shelters, probably bee-lining to cars in an awful call. They’d never out race it. 

“Charlotte!” Someone screamed and the little girl whipped her head around before she tugged hard on your hand. From behind you, the little girl’s mother appeared, immediately scooping up her daughter in her arms. “Oh my, God. Thank you!” she said, looking at you with teary eyes. 

“We have to take cover,” you told her, gently pushing her forward. “The shelter’s just up that way.” She thanked you again before she took off with her daughter in her arms. You wanted to follow, it was stupid not to when the wind gusts became more powerful, rattling everything dangerously and making it hard to think. But there were more people unsure of where to go and what to do. Groups of kids who had been dropped off for the evening stumbling frantically out of the rides and still dizzy. You stepped from the path and tried to direct people as best you could, shouting in tune with the speaker and the sirens for them to hurry into the shelter. 

It wasn’t until larger objects were plucked from the ground and tossed into the air like paper did you abandoned your aiding. The tornado screeched to life, ripping apart pieces of the show barns and rides with ease. You tried to close the distance between yourself and the shelter once more, but it wasn’t people in need that stopped you, it was a sheet of metal pried from the side of one of the food trucks. You tried to dodge the hurling objects, but the sheet came at you hard and fast. 

It sliced your shin, sending a wave of pain up through the rest of your leg. You stumbled, determined to stay upright, but the wind was too strong for your limping figure, and you toppled against the concrete, slamming your knees against the ground before you rolled over into the lousy shelter of a game’s tent somehow still standing. 

Panic started to set in as the storm raged around you, loud and monstrous. You covered your wound with your hands, unsure of where the blaring of the tornado ended and the fast-paced beat of your heart started, drumming in your ears and beating against your skull. You knew you couldn’t stay there, but leaving was just as dangerous as every attraction of the fair swirled around in the air. The cut from your leg painted your hands red and throbbed; it would only slow you down if you tried to run, creating even more of a risk. 

You didn’t know what to do. All of your life, the storms you had faced you’d always been lucky enough to find shelter in plenty of time, from the cellar in your backyard to your high school’s basement created just for such an occasion. 

Through the freight train sounding winds and your thundering heart, you heard a couple of voices that had to be close. Tearing your eyes away from the cut on your leg, you watched as another group of people sprinted down the walkway as someone yelled behind them to run. 

In all of your life, you’d never been so relieved to see Tyler Owens’s face standing just a few feet away; he hadn’t spotted you, and for a terrifying moment you thought he’d be unable to hear you yell out above the screaming storm. But somehow, he did. His head snapped in your direction, rain-coated and windblown, looking both out of sorts and in his element. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled as he ran over to you, dodging flying debris that grew larger by the minute. The second he crouched down in front of you, his eyes flickered onto your legs, and the blood seeping out between your fingers as you tried to keep pressure on the wound. 

“I thought I’d just hang out here,” you said, your sarcasm watered down by the fear clear in your teary eyes.

His brows furrowed, deep in thought for a moment as he looked between you and the distance there was still to cross to the only close shelter. Without saying a word, he peeled off his wet flannel, leaving himself in a shirt that was already nearly soaked through as the sideways rain beat down against the both of you. “I’m gonna tie this around your leg and then we’re gonna run, okay?” 

You shook your head frantically. The ache in your legs was intense and you had already lost a good amount of blood, not enough to make you woozy but you were well on your way. It felt like your heart had crawled up your throat, making it hard to breathe as panic soaked you to the bone along with the rain. Everything around you seemed to be ripped from the ground, even the anchored tent you were under was seconds away from being picked up. 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a hold of your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “It’ll be alright. You gotta trust me, though.” The sincerity shined in his eyes, bright as the rest of the power around you flickered wickedly. With a nod of your head, you dropped your hands from your leg and let him tie the flannel around your cut. As he pulled it tight, you cried out in pain. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating until it was knotted. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and helped you up, looping an arm around your waist as you slung an arm around his shoulders. 

“Ready?” You didn’t get a chance to respond as the tent you were under was plucked from the ground, anchors and all, and flung backward into the tornado as it tore through the front entrance of the fairgrounds. Tyler took off, giving you no choice but to follow. 

You two stayed low, trying desperately to avoid the flying objects. With each step your leg burned, but Tyler’s hold on you was strong, not giving any room for you to lag behind or slip away. It felt like hours of running, but it was no more than a minute or two before you reached the shelter. The only major injury between the two of you was your leg, otherwise, you both collected a series of little cuts and bruises from your journey. 

Stumbling into the restroom, you were met with a hoard of scared fairgoers. You two managed to find a spot to slot yourself in with everyone else. He helped you lower yourself to the floor back in the corner just as the tornado was fully on top of you. You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your head. Tyler sat flushed against your side; you felt his hands rest over the top of yours as the building rattled violently. Squeezing your eyes shut, you refused to see the damage until the howl of wind subsided and people started to stir. 

Once it was over, everyone stumbled out of the shelter, getting jumbled together as police and ambulances rushed to the scene. Amongst people pushing and shoving to find their loved ones and get the hell home, you and Tyler were separated and before you could look for him, an EMT caught sight of your bloodied leg and ushered you to one of the ambulances. 

You sat on the back after the EMT stitched up your leg, looking over the torn-apart fairgrounds. Debris was littered everywhere, food trucks and carts overturned and some demolished, and rides were dislocated and strewn about in pieces. 

You clutched the bloodied flannel to your chest, shivering in the loss of adrenaline and temperature drop, and watched the sea of people until a familiar face popped into view, looking a little frantic as he stumbled through the crowd looking like he was in search of something. His eyes finally settled on you before he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached you. 

“Hi,” you greeted, smiling tiredly. 

“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. “I looked away for a second and you were gone and-” You continued to smile, and he stopped himself. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Nothing,” you replied quietly before clearing your throat. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you. And I’m sorry for ruining your flannel.” You gestured to the ruined piece of clothing resting in your lap. 

Tyler was quiet for a moment, looking at the large bandage around your shin. “Don’t mention it,” he said, brushing off your thanks like he hadn’t just pretty much saved your life. “What were you doing out there anyway?” 

You sighed, feeling a creep of embarrassment up your spine. You should’ve known better but at the moment you just wanted to help people and had little regard for your own safety, until your leg was sliced open, that was. “There were people still out there, trying to figure out where to go. I was trying to help.” 

“That was stupid,” he said. “But brave. Stupidly brave, maybe.” 

“Funny. I think I’ve said the same thing about you a time for two.” 

His signature smirk slowly fell onto his lips. “Not to my face.”

“Oh, no. Never.” 

Tyler laughed, gently patting your knee, lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand back at his side. Someone called out your name, and you spotted your friend running back through the crowd. She had called you as soon as you had made it to the ambulance and told you she’d come back to take you home. 

“You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you around.” As he turned around to walk away, you called out to him. 

“Tyler, wait.” He paused. “You should try calling me again. Maybe I’ll answer this time.” Breaking out in a grin, he tipped his hat in another goodbye, leaving you with a new feeling stirring inside your chest. 

Bonus! 

Hours later, after you had cleaned yourself up, you were tucked into bed, reading by the lamp light knowing sleep was probably far off after the events of the night. You didn’t expect your phone to ring that late into the night, and when you glanced at it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the caller ID, but that time it was something besides annoyance that you felt. 

You answered, discarding your book on your nightstand. “You don’t waste any time do you,” you teased. 

“What I can say,” Tyler said on the other line. “I know when I find something worth my while.” 

[little-diable]

Lightning - Tyler Owens (smut)

I mean, we all knew this would happen. I haven’t seen the movie yet, but I am DESPERATE for him. And as somebody who actually has something to do with studying tornadoes, I had to write this. I am obsessed with this fic, but I doubt this will get much attention, so please actually reblog it if you enjoyed reading it! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tyler and the reader are chasing tornadoes together, but when they have to step back and find shelter, things quickly change between them.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, handjob, kinda enemies to lovers, teasing and all that fun stuff

Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (3k words)

Wind was blowing in her face, letting her strands dance in the air while her eyes flickered between her laptop screen and the dark sky. She was surrounded by her team, trying to ignore their shouts as they decided which direction to head in. (Y/n) was torn between too many options, not liking the way this afternoon was playing out. 

It was do or die, miss or hit one of the biggest tornadoes they had come across in a while. And yet the second cell that was currently forming gave off a somewhat more promising chance of catching enough data this time around. 

“Which way will it be, lightning?” Her breath hitched in her chest as he mumbled the words, front pressed against her back. The hairs on her arms began to rise, fully focused on his closeness, allowing her to pick up on the scent of his familiar cologne, on the way his breath fanned over the back of her neck as if he was about to kiss that very spot.

“Am I dreaming? Is Tyler Owens asking for my opinion?” She slowly turned towards the handsome man. Her eyes instantly found his piercing ones, getting lost in their intense gaze while he shot her one of his signature smirks. Fuck, if he weren’t such an asshole most of the time, she would easily give in to the pull she felt, allowing him to tug her towards his bed without having to fear about the aftermath. But if there was one thing (y/n) was sure of, it was that Tyler Owens was all about playing games, toying with a woman until he eventually grew bored. He was a personification of a thunderstorm, fast moving and never ready to settle.

“Don’t let it get to your head, pretty.” She clicked her tongue with a displeased expression tugging on her features. There was no time left to study him, to curse whoever had created him for making him look this handsome. They had to stay focused, at least until she got the data she needed for her project. 

“Alright, we’re heading east.” (Y/n) closed her laptop before reaching for her bag–the bag that was snatched from her grasp before she could protest. Tyler had slung it over his shoulder while tilting his head towards his truck, silently asking her to ride with him. 

On any other occasion she would have cursed him, would have told him to fuck off. But today, while being heavily understaffed, she needed any help she could get. And knowing that Tyler drove like the devil himself, she knew she had the best chance of arriving just in time with him by her side. 

His smirk grew wider the second she gave in, begrudgingly following Tyler while her eyes found the confused ones of her teammates. She only rolled her eyes at them, raising her shoulders and dropping them again as if she was wordlessly telling them that she was just as confused as they were, not seeing through Tyler’s game just yet. 

Silence filled the truck, only a few commands left (y/n) whenever they needed to make a turn, chasing down the roads to catch up with the growing cell. All while the others followed behind them, too slow to catch up with Tyler’s truck. Her heart was pounding in her chest, riled up by the anticipation of chasing another storm – no matter how many times she had done this before, (y/n) would never get used to the thrill, the moments leading up to seeing yet another beautiful though terrifying tornado. 

“You alright, pretty?” She’d never get used to the way Tyler called her, dripping with that drawl she loved more than she’d ever admit. (Y/n) didn’t look at him, fully focused on her laptop to monitor the path their tornado took. No word left her pressed together lips, trying to drown out the feeling of his concerned eyes flickering towards her every few seconds. 

“(Y/n)?” The use of her name ripped (y/n) out of her trance, letting her wide pupils find his. She only nodded at Tyler, knowing she couldn’t waste any time on the crush she could never speak of, preferring to take her secret to the grave rather than feeding his ego–only to end up with a broken heart in the process. 

“Guys, can you hear me?” She held the radio close, speaking to the others while refocusing on the map. All they could hear was rustling, unable to pick up on the reply that was spoken on the other end. Curses clawed through (y/n), she tried to reach their teams again, while swallowing the sinking feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. No longer could she see them in the rearview mirror, telling her that they hadn’t made it down the narrow path Tyler had taken.

The road ahead was muddy, forcing the truck to slither along while Tyler tried to avoid holes and ditches. With one hand clutching the door, (y/n) tried to hold still, not daring to bump into Tyler whose angry cusses filled the truck. Both had their eyes focused ahead, knowing that this had been the wrong choice, the wrong tornado to chase. They were heading straight towards their death if they kept going that way, knowing that without their team by their side, they wouldn’t be able to collect enough data anyway. 

“I hate being the one to say it, but we gotta find shelter, lightning.” Tyler’s annoyed groans left her nodding, giving him the green light to take a sharp left to turn towards the town close by. With the slimmest chance to find proper shelter, Tyler kept speeding along, seemingly having a spot in mind. (Y/n) was angry, at herself, at the road conditions, knowing that this situation should have played out much differently. And all she could do was trust the man she had always tried to hate.

“Come, follow me.” The truck was forced to a sudden halt. (Y/n) followed Tyler outside, holding onto her things while he reached for her free hand to pull her along. He guided her towards what appeared to be a barn, a building she paid no attention to as she studied the tornado, getting lost in its beauty for a second. “They built an underground shelter here a few years back, if we’re lucky nobody else had the time to find it.”

Tyler pushed her into the unlocked barn, letting the doors slide close again before he led her down some stairs. She didn’t dare speak, torn between too many emotions. All (y/n) could do was let go of a sigh while being ushered into the empty, dark shelter. It took her a while to adjust to the darkness, letting her hands move along the metallic wall until she found what appeared to be a light switch. She gave it a try, though without any luck, letting herself drop to the ground while Tyler stayed glued to his spot. 

If both hadn’t been too deep in thought, they would have realised that this was the first time they were sheltering together, completely alone without any nosy eyes watching them or listening to their talks. 

“We should have gone west, I’m sorry.” Her whispers filled the small shelter, luring Tyler closer who plopped down next to her. He fumbled with his phone to turn on the fleshlight, letting it rest on the ground to alight their surroundings. A few boxes were placed against the wall, filled with water and some snacks they hopefully wouldn’t have to use, praying that they’d get out of here fast enough to chase their luck once again. 

“There’s always time for another try, pretty.” Tyler reached for her hand to squeeze it before he could stop himself, forcing her eyes to focus on the spot where she now felt a buzzing sensation. She let her head roll towards Tyler, studying the white hat he took off with his free hand, placing it down on the ground, only to comb through his hair. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you without that thing on.” (Y/n)’s whispers left him chuckling, a sound that momentarily managed to drown out the roar of the tornado. The howling was an almost comforting sound to them, after years of chasing them, well aware of every little detail. 

“Well, you’re one of the few who gets the honour, appreciate it.” She rolled her eyes at him before ripping her gaze off of him. Heat flushed through her at his teasing, a heat that only grew more biting as she realised that they were still holding hands. Her tongue moved along her dry lips, trying to find the right words to break their silence, silently hoping that she could cherish every single second of their time together. As much as she had once sworn to hate him while burying her crush deep inside of herself, she had lost all strength to fight against it, at least for now.

“Why have we never done this before?” Tyler seemed to feel the same longing, drawing her focus back towards him with his question. His eyes had an even more piercing touch to them now, having an invisible tight grasp on her soul she didn’t want to escape from. 

“Because you’re an asshole most of the time and I can’t stand being around you for long.” (Y/n)’s sharp reply left him laughing, a loud sound that had an addicting effect on her, leaving her chuckling while shaking her head at the man. 

“You wound me, lightning. Here I was hoping you’d finally let me take you out on a date, once this day’s over.” No longer did she laugh, the sound was stuck in her throat all too suddenly.

Did he truly mean it? Was he planning on asking her out? Or was Tyler playing yet another game with her? 

“Don’t fuck with me, Owens.” His hand darted out to grasp her chin, forcing her to keep her focus on him before she could even try to turn away from him. For just a second, she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her slightly parted lips. Once again her heart was back to racing, no longer focused on the howling wind, the sounds of things crashing outside, but fully and solemnly focused on Tyler. 

“Are you scared of this thing between us?” Once again, his question managed to rob her of the air filling her lungs, not expecting him to be this direct with her. A part of (y/n) begged her to cuss him out, to make fun of the question, to escape the avalanche that was about to roll upon them, but the bigger - more desperate - part of her, managed to gain the upper hand, leading her straight towards danger.

“Well, even though you enjoy riding your fears, I prefer to face ‘em. I’m not scared, not of this, whatever this is. But I’m fucking terrified of you toying with me and dropping me the second I’m no longer interesting enough.” He let go of her, only to pull her into his lap, making her straddle his stretched out legs. They held eye contact, wordlessly daring one another to move first, to give in to the pull that was as strong as an F5 they’d happily chase on any other day. 

“I’d be fucking stupid to mess it up with you.” She felt his breath on her lips, ghosting over her soft skin like he was giving her one last chance to pull away. A chance she wouldn’t take, letting it pass while finding his lips for a soft kiss that escalated within seconds. With his hand pressed to the back of her head and his other placed on her waist, Tyler held her to him while deepening the kiss.

Their tongues fought for victory, knowing that neither of them would back down from a fight against the other, urged on by their need to gain the upper hand. Soft groans and moans left them while their bodies searched one another’s closeness, knowing that this was something they wouldn’t tell others about, preferring to keep this as their secret. 

Her hands roamed his clothed chest, feeling his muscles beneath her wandering fingers while finding her way to his belt. She toyed with the buckle for a moment while her lips were still glued to his, knowing they’d have to part any moment now to inhale some much needed breaths of air. 

“You sure you want to do this in here, lightning?” His chuckles left her grinning, while holding onto the question she had wanted to ask for a while now. 

“Why lightning?” A kiss was shared between them, much softer than the one before. Her hand was still toying with his belt, slowly undoing the buckle to wordlessly tell him she wanted this much as he did, even though they knew that it was stupid and selfish of them to hide out here while their teams were undoubtedly worrying about them. 

“Well, the first time I saw you, you struck me like lightning, brightening my darkest day.” The explanation was cheesy, and yet it still drew heat up her neck. She could only swallow, smile at him and refocus on her hands. Tyler let her move, freeing his hardening cock while his impatient hands tugged on the buttons of her blouse, letting it pop open to expose her bra-clad chest. 

“Fuck, you’re a dream.” Her eyes flickered up to his while she spat into her palm, using her saliva to lube him up. Tyler couldn’t stop his moans from clawing through him, fully focused on the way he perfectly fit into her hand, pressed against the soft skin he wanted to feel against every inch of his body. His head rolled back against the wall, eyes closed and lips parted – offering a sight that made her walls clench around nothing, proud for being the one to make him feel like that. 

Her hand added more speed to its movements, squeezing him with just enough pressure to draw another raspy moan from Tyler. He allowed himself to relish in her touch for another moment before he gently though urgently grasped her wrist to stop her from moving. 

“Will you ride me, lightning?” His accent grew thicker with every syllable, leaving her shuddering while only a soft chuckle managed to leave her. She rose to her feet to shuffle out of her jeans, keeping her eyes focused on Tyler who marvelled at her as if she was the strongest tornado he had ever been fortunate enough to see, fully mesmerised by everything about her. She kept her panties on while finding her way back to his lap, knowing that they needed to hit the road soon, not giving them a chance to do this properly. 

“Wait, here.” He reached for his back pocket to pull a condom out of his wallet, letting her rip it open to roll it down his aching cock. Both their hearts were beating in sync, knowing that they were finally about to do something they had been desperate for ever since running into one another for the first time. No matter how much anger and hatred had once grown between them, it was now turning them from opponents to lovers–or whatever it was both were trying to adjust to. 

Tyler held onto her as she sank down on him, letting her forehead fall against his shoulder for a second. No words were spoken while they had to adjust, overwhelmed by the new sensation and the whirlwind of emotions buzzing through them like a storm hitting them both. With her hands holding onto him, clinging to the fabric of the shirt he wore, she began to move, fucking herself on his twitching cock with such a passion, Tyler feared he may never want to get out of this shelter again. 

“Tyler,” his name left her, a breathy whisper he almost missed, too far gone to focus on anything but their closeness. He palmed her ass, letting his fingertips dig into her skin to leave marks that would remind her of this very moment for days to come. His hips met hers, jerking upwards to make his cock disappear inside of her even deeper, drawing desperate moans from them which dripped with a need for more. 

“Attagirl, look at you, fucking yourself on my cock like you were born for this.” She moaned at his words, knowing that her thighs would start aching soon enough, begging for a new position to give herself the needed push to fall over the edge. “What? You’re already getting tired? I should have fucked you in my truck, make you scream my name while the world’s ending around us.” 

He pushed her off of him without a warning, leaving her dazed and confused for a second while watching him rise to his feet. With a hand stretched out for (y/n) to take, he pulled her up towards him–only to pick her up and press her against the wall. His cock was pushed back into her, stretching her walls while he fucked her with a fast pace that made both of them see stars. 

(Y/n) clawed at his neck, needing to hold onto him while he fucked her closer and closer to the edge. A cocky grin widened on his lips as he felt her walls tightening their grip on his cock. She was close, would let go soon with his name burning on the tip of her tongue, a perfect reminder that she was his from today on, glued to the man who she had once sworn to hate. 

“Scream my name, lightning, show them what a real thunderstorm sounds like.” If he weren’t buried deep inside of her, she would have rolled her eyes at him. But (y/n) was too far gone to care about his cheesy teasing, solemnly focused on her arising high and the name rolling off her tongue like a prayer.

And then she came, pushed into an orgasm so strong, (y/n) feared she’d never experience something like this again. It buzzed through every part of her body, stealing her breath as if she was drowning, forcing her heart to skip beats as if she was chased by someone or rather something. Tyler kept fucking her against the wall, urged on by her moans, the sounds he’d never forget again. 

Pants kept leaving him while chasing his own high, letting his skin meet hers with every ferocious thrust. And with one last “Fuck” Tyler came, relieving himself into the condom as his smirk returned to his lips. Both were heavily breathing, clinging to the other while coming down from their highs.

“I don’t know if I can walk back to the truck.” Carefully, he placed (y/n) back down on her feet, shaking his head at her with a soft smile thrown her way. Tyler pressed another kiss to her slightly swollen lips before both redressed, knowing that they had to get out of here and back to their team as fast as possible. 

“You know I’ll gladly carry you, lightning. I always will, if you let me.”

[astreids]

the day you and megumi broke up was the worst day of gojo satoru's life.

now, not only did he have to deal with a moody teenager at home, he also had to deal with you at school.

"what do you mean you both broke up?"

"it means we're no longer together."

"but — but WHY?"

"reasons," megumi deadpanned, not taking his eyes away from the tv in front of him. gojo watched him for a minute and when it became clear that the kid wasn't gonna cry and ask him for help so that he could win you back, he knew exactly what he had to do.

a few blocks away, you had just finished tearing up over a sad song which reminded you of your current predicament when your phone pinged with a new notification.

you reached over to dig your phone up from the pile of pillows thrown on your bed and almost threw it out of the window when the name 'sea urchin🥊💍' stared back up at you.

you snapped back from your trance when it pinged again — and again and again and again until you couldn't take it anymore and opened the messages, your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

sea urchin🥊💍

do u care bout me be honest

i am giving you 5 secs pls pls pls

take me back 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

if this doesn't work lemme try this

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

c'mon u have to take me back now it's only being NICE

i am going to sleep now last chance

come onnnnnnnnnn

hello this is his dad do u care about megumi

on the other side, gojo was furiously trying his best to make it seem like it was megumi who was texting you and so far, he was absolutely convinced that he was getting the hang of it. it was only when the phone buzzed with a new notification that his dream of mastering espionage was shattered.

girlfriend

megumi's vocab includes yes, no, fuck off, what the fuck and itadori NO

he will strangle u if u use emojis

nice try tho sensei

tell that mf to talk to me if he wants to

or wtv

is he ok

not that i care

make sure he sleeps early tonight bc he got that training thing tomorrow morning

again i do not care

also delete these messages

(thank u)

gojo looked up grinning from megumi's phone, his eyes locking on his kid. megumi was fast asleep on the couch, his head leaning back against the back of it. even from some distance, gojo could see the tiredness etched on his face and something else that made him so restless. and despite not seeing you, he could bet his entire fortune that you were the same way and it made is heart hurt, seeing the two kids he loved like his own hurt so horribly like this.

looking at the messages you sent and your obvious care of him, he was sure that you'd both be okay.

gojo was there to make sure of it. and if one of the reasons for doing it was because he didn't wanna deal with antsy and moody teenagers for god knows how long, well, that was no one's business but his own.

[chuluoyi]

✎ rivals... in love?

- gojo satoru x reader

gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?

genre: high school!gojo being a menace but pls spare him he just can't take losing, you see... crack, totally jealous!gojo, justice for geto, enemies to lovers, fluff

note: people have been asking for this so this is up next! i'm writing this while listening to bigbang's bang bang bang and fantastic baby so if gojo is a bit unhinged... you know why

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

No way. There is just no way.

Satoru felt his eyes itch and twitch uncomfortably. Despite the opaque black tint of his sunglasses, he could still distinctly see you happily giggling.

“Geto-san, that’s so funny!”

With Suguru. His ride or die. Your massive crush.

Your crisp laughter rang in his ears, scorching his ego and igniting it in flames—that was precisely the reaction he had hoped to receive from you too!

"Aren't they just cute?" Yaga was suddenly beside him with a wistful smile, looking at you and his other student a few feet away. "What do the television say again... a perfect match? In this case, a perfect match made in jujutsu school, then."

And responding to your bubbly self, creating the very picture of perfect match made in jujutsu school indeed, Suguru was every bit as enthusiastic. “Nah, wait until you see this—”

"Perfect match my ass," Satoru grumbled outwardly, rolling his eyes, but he immediately dashed away before his teacher could bonk him in the head for cussing.

It was harmless conversation, or jokes, or whatever. Because Suguru couldn't possibly reciprocate your feelings. His type is women of gravure magazines—Satoru had deemed it as such.

…Right?

At this point, he wasn't in enough denial to say that he didn't like you, because he had made it so clear that he was, in fact, obsessed. He wasn’t shying away from the things he did, which included annoying you constantly, asking you out after school, helping you in missions, and sending you few pick up lines here and there.

And he thought he was certain he could whisk you off your feet. After all, who else could measure up to him and win?

Heh, no one.

(or basically that's just him ignoring the intrusive little voice in his mind that whispered, “Suguru!”)

“So what's with the nice act, huh?” Satoru blew his bangs in a huff as he questioned his best friend with a twinge of dissatisfaction. “Do you like her or something?”

Suguru quirked his eyebrow at him. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb. I have noticed how you two have been joined at the hip lately,” and with deliberate intention to spite his best friend, he made the sourest face as he mockingly recited, “Wait till you see this~”

Instantly realizing what he meant, Suguru burst into a loud snicker. “Come on, Satoru, really? Surely you aren't that petty. We were just chatting—”

“Not that. I know. What I'm asking now is that do you like her or not?”

It wasn't a rare sight to see Satoru with a pout and a frown, and usually he'd humor him. But this time, even Suguru could see that there was something different in the way he asked this. And should he say something that irked him then—

“Heh, so what if I am?”

That's the wrong answer.

Satoru halted abruptly, whipping his head around in sheer shock. "What the heck?"

“She’s a nice junior, kind, easy on the eyes,” Suguru shrugged, flashing him a dauntless smile. “Only a fool would let the chance pass up. Satoru, if you keep dawdling, one of these days, I just might—”

“Wha—hey!? That’s totally foul—!”

“Nah, they do say all is fair in love and war now, isn’t it?”

By a mind-boggling twist of events, apparently his best friend was also a guy after his dream girl. Satoru was irked, challenged, and he would never admit it, but a tiny part of him recoiled because Suguru clearly had an early start and a boost—you favored him first.

This was unexpected, and now he was conjuring up various scenarios of what he should do. He must act fast or else...

Little did he know that Suguru was thoroughly relishing his restlessness.

Everyone around you said that your relationship with Gojo Satoru... is intriguing to say the least. And especially ever since that one botched mission you two went, you also felt there was a shift in your dynamics.

And if by intriguing they mean him constantly blocking your way and invading your space, then yes, it definitely is.

"Okay, okay, but wait, just hear me out!"

You halted your steps and faced him with an annoyed frown. You really had no time for this. You were about to be sent on a mission. "Gojo, really, can't you just—"

"Okay, I know he's dashing, or whatever," he huffed, the last word he said with a hint of disdain. "But hear me out, and I'm sure you'll reconsider."

"Who are you talki—"

"Who else!? Suguru, of course!"

You couldn't possibly arch your eyebrow even higher, and before you could say anything, he somehow took it as his cue to keep going.

“First, he eats curses. Cursed spirits! He eats them like rice balls! Can you imagine just how foul the taste is?”

"Gojo, I don't have the time—"

"Then! Going from that, just imagine kissing him," he stressed, eyeing you intensely as your own eyes felt like popping out by the sheer suggestion. "What if you taste the cursed spirits rice ball?"

"You're unbeliev—"

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"He's your best friend!" you finally interjected, obviously and utterly in shock by his unhinged rambling. "How could you say all of that?"

"No, you're getting me wrong." Satoru's clicked his tongue. "I'm just listing facts why it's better for you not to end up with him."

You barked a dry laugh. "And? Better with you, you mean? That's awfully biased."

"Why yes of course! Self-promo is never bad," he blatantly retorted. "Let me just tell you aallll you need to know about me!"

He audibly cracked his knuckles and puffed out his chest. "You know already, I'm strong. I can protect you well. My cursed technique doesn't involve eating curses, so you don't have to worry about tasting the said curses on my lips."

How could he blurt all of this with that perpetually playful expression? A chuckle escaped you unwittingly and that only spurred him to go on.

"And I'm handsome!" he boldly claimed, pointing at his face with pride. "And obviously I don't need to say this, but I'm filthy rich—"

At that, you burst into hearty laughter, unable to hold it in any longer.

Satoru's eyes sparkled, lit as if someone had just made his day. "All in all, you know what I mean. Everything with me, all of it is going to be fantastic!"

Even you couldn't deny that all of this exchange had been so amusing. Hilariously so. "You're down bad, huh?" you tried to taunt, although it seemed like a burst of snicker. Yet, you were caught off-guard when he said:

"For you?" his little smirk made your insides suddenly all jumbled up. "Yes."

Huh? What is this? Your bravado faltered a bit as your heart did a somersault inside.

It wasn't supposed to thump this hard. You weren't supposed to feel this overwhelming urge to squeal too. And your face wasn't supposed to grow this hot...

Seeing that, Satoru celebrated his little win, a wicked smile on his glistening lips—that somehow looked rather attractive to you now. "How? Thinking twice now, are we?"

But he couldn't believe that after all this, you would still cunningly retort with, "Ha! You wish, Gojo Satoru."

His stunned face was so comical that you chuckled once again. You wanted to rebuff him more, but before you could, Haibara's voice called you from a distance. "Heeey! Let's go! Or we're gonna be late!"

"I suppose that's my cue," you lightly shrugged, and before you left him in a dust, you could've sworn you saw a flicker of brewing tantrum behind those glasses, which brought a smirk on your face. "See ya, try harder, and I might look at your way."

Satoru was at his wit's end as he saw you sauntering away. What more that he could do so that you could be his? To keep your eyes on him and him only?

And yet, little did he know, in that beginning of summer in 2006, even before you realized it yourself, you had already did.

Epilogue

In another corner of the school, eagerly spying on you were...

"Wait! Can you even kiss him? What if his cursed spirits suddenly pop out of him? Are you willing to kiss his little friends—"

"Did he just..." Suguru gaped, utterly in disbelief at what his own best friend said of him. "Did he just say that?"

Shoko let out a satisfied guffaw. "Oh, he definitely did."

"I can't believe he's tarnishing my name over a girl."

"Well, you know very well he could do way worse than that just to get what he wants," she threw him a thin smile, while exhaling a puff of smoke. "And hey, you lose. You gotta pay me."

Suguru turned to her in surprise. "Huh? Oh—oh, darn it. Shoko, can't you be less stingy?"

"Well, whose bright idea was it to pull that stunt on him and bet on whether Gojo would approach her in less than a day?"

-> continue to extended cut !

[fastandcarlos]

Hickey : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: with all eyes on him, lando can't help but wonder what everyone is captured by. but when he finds out the problem, it's much bigger than he ever could've imagined

The room seemed to fall silent as soon as Lando walked in, with several glances moving in his direction. His heart began to race as he heard sniggers come from around the room, it was something that he wasn’t used to, usually greeted with wide smiles and shakes of the hand. 

It was almost as if he’d walked into a dream, it was unlike anything that Lando had experienced before. He nervously walked to the side of the room as the drivers waited to be called out for the parade, seeking comfort from Oscar and a few of his other close friends who were stood in the corner of the room. 

“What’s going on?” Lando queried as he stood between Oscar and Carlos, his eyes drawn to the expressions on their faces and how they tried their best to not smile across at him. 

“Did you have a nice evening?” Carlos innocently asked him. 

Lando nodded in confusion as a scoff came from George who was just beside Carlos. Lando’s brows knitted together as his anxiety built, hating the feeling as if he was missing out on something amongst them all.  

“Y/N’s here this weekend, isn’t she?” Oscar asked. Lando nodded, knowing that Oscar already knew the answer. “We can tell you guys haven’t seen each other for a while.” 

It didn’t take long before a couple of the other drivers joined their group, not wanting to miss out. There were a few exchanged glances amongst them all, but Lando just couldn’t piece together what they were all trying to say to each other as their eyes silently spoke.  

“Did you happen to have a look in the mirror before you left your hotel room this morning? Or did Y/N say anything to you?” Alex asked, shaking his head across at Lando. 

“She was still asleep, and I was running late.” 

No one could quite believe how oblivious Lando was as he shrugged. It had grabbed everyone’s attention as soon as he entered the room, and had probably delighted the cameras as soon as Lando entered the paddock that morning.  

“Can someone just tell me what I’m missing please?” Lando asked of them all. 

Whilst some of them continued their laughter, Charles pulled his phone out of his back pocket and opened up his camera. Lando immediately panicked when he saw what Charles was doing, brushing over his face. Little did he know though, it wasn’t something that could just be brushed off. 

“Just so you know, I said to the others that we should tell you,” Charles defended before he went to turn his phone around, at least trying to offer Lando one supportive friend. 

“Tell me what? Just tell me what’s the matter.” 

A sigh came from Charles as he turned his phone around. Lando studied himself carefully in it, but couldn’t spot anything, nothing that usually wasn’t out of the ordinary.  

“Can you really not see the issue?” Oscar asked, struggling to hold back his laughter. 

As Lando shook his head, Carlos walked over to him and pulled down the side of his hoodie. Watching on as the material moved, Lando’s eyes soon went wide. 

“Now can you see what the problem is?” Carlos sighed at him, tapping his finger just below him. “Now do you see why you’re the centre of attention this morning?” 

His heart began to race as he moved closer towards the phone, noticing just how dark the mark on his neck was. His eyes shut, knowing that there was nothing that he could do about it, dreading to think what had already happened before he even noticed too. 

“I’ve got a hickey,” Lando muttered underneath his breath. 

No one quite knew where to look as Lando looked around in panic. It was beyond anything that Lando could’ve ever imagined, almost like the things that nightmares are made of, especially when you get as much attention as he does. 

“What am I supposed to do?” He nervously asked, but no one seemed to have the answer, it was a situation that none of the drivers had ever found themselves in before. 

There was one driver though who had a bit of an idea. “What about if you paint yourself purple for the race today, that way it’ll blend in and no one will ever know?” 

“Daniel, sometimes I really just want to knock you out.” 

Whilst Lando looked unimpressed, Daniel’s suggestion earnt a chorus of laughs from many of the other drivers. Whilst some couldn’t hold back their giggles, luckily for Lando, he had a couple who could sympathise. 

“There’s got to be some merch somewhere that’ll hide your neck,” Alex suggested, throwing his arm over Lando’s shoulders. “If that fails, just pretend you’ve got a nasty stomach bug and ask to go home.” 

“I’m just going to have to own it now, I bet there’s headlines everywhere, aren’t there?” Lando asked, the silence around the room telling him everything that he needed to know. 

Of all of the boys, George cleared his throat. “I promise that the headlines aren’t as terrible as you probably think they are Lando.” 

Lando nodded, it still didn’t make him feel any better. Especially for you. You were just a few minutes from arriving at the paddock and he knew exactly what sort of questions would be sent your way upon your arrival. 

Like the media, a few of the boys couldn’t help but think about Y/N too. “Have you got matching marks or something?” Daniel quizzed, unable to stop himself messing with Lando, just like Lando had done with him many times. “Are you just letting everyone know you’re together this weekend.” 

“You can tease me all you want, but none of you are to say anything to Y/N,” Lando quickly warned them all, “she’s going to be embarrassed enough about this as it is when she gets here.” 

“I never had Y/N down for this type of person.” 

“Daniel!” Lando groaned, elbowing him in the side. “I’m being serious, if anyone says anything to Y/N then I can guarantee you right now that I know all of your weaknesses and I will happily expose you all for them.” 

It was funny watching Lando be serious, but when it came to you, they all knew just how much he meant it. He would back you all the way and defend you no matter what had happened. 

“At least we all know you and Y/N are happy together,” Carlos grinned as he tried to lighten the mood again. “Let’s worry more about covering this mess up for now seeing as we’ve got a race to get to soon.” 

“You’re all enjoying this too much,” Lando scolded, displeased by the smirks on many of his closest friends around him. “Some of you really need to get yourselves girlfriends.” 

As Lando went to walk off with Carlos, Charles quickly stopped him. Before Lando could protest, Charles used his phone to take a photo of Lando and keep it as a memory. 

“Just for the future,” he innocently smiled as Lando hit against his arm. “I think this is an important day that we might all want to remember one day.” 

“I’ve never hated a group of people more in my life,” Lando sighed as Charles slotted his phone away. “At least there’s one person who wants to help me out.” 

“I’ve got no sympathy,” Oscar shrugged, seemingly the spokesperson of the group. “You should’ve known what you were doing back at your hotel last night.” 

Lando’s eyes rolled at Oscar’s scolding, “do you think if I knew this was going to happen I would have let Y/N do this to me?” He quizzed, pointing at the mark. 

“Knowing you, yes,” Oscar couldn’t help but laugh, “anything to get a little bit of attention, we all know what you’re like with your relationship.” 

“I honestly hate you all.” 

“But at least we all know Y/N loves you though!” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[sunderwight]

PIDW but it's a game.

You play as Luo Binghe, the lowliest disciple of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect's Qing Jing Peak. The first part of the game proceeds more or less like a semi-normal fantasy dating sim -- Luo Binghe is bullied and downtrodden, but can seek help and opportunities to build relationships with various female characters, like Ning Yingying and Liu Mingyan. The game's interface implies a truly staggering number of potential romance candidates to unlock, however, so it makes sense that the first part in your disciple years doesn't get you very far in any of the routes.

But then for the second part, things start to shift. You get an option that seems to amount to asking whether you want to make things better for Luo Binghe or not. When you click the obvious choice, that you do, your previously cold and ruthless shizun seems to go through an inexplicable change of heart. You get a weird kind of fanservice-y scene featuring him during the Skinner Demon Mission. Then he features extremely heavily in the Demon Invasion Mission, only to turn up as your companion in the Dream Demon Mission.

After that, it seems like you've gotten onto his route, somehow? Why does the scummy male teacher even have a route in a game like this, though? You try to check for player guides but you can't seem to find any. You try reloading older saves and making other selections, but no matter what you choose, you end up finishing the Dream Demon Mission by moving into Shen Qingqiu's house, and the routes for Liu Mingyan and Ning Yingying and the briefly-encountered Sha Hualing are all greyed out.

But maybe that just means they're inaccessible for advancement for now, or something. And a lot of games have plot points that are on rails, and you can see where Luo Binghe actually getting a place to live would be one of those things. The format of the game changes as well, going from a relatively loose sequence of scenes and interactions to a daily management style, where you have tasks to complete (make shizun breakfast, go to morning lessons, cultivate, do chores, etc) and only a set number of hours in which to complete them. You have affection points, but any time you try to spend them on anyone other than Shen Qingqiu you get an error message. There are dialogue options for flirting with other characters, but they're always greyed out and impossible to select.

Still, you can unlock scenes. A lot of them are just long slow shots of Shen Qingqiu doing things, like reading, or lecturing, or eating. You get missions, and sometimes you meet female characters who seem to unlock new possible romance paths, even though they're still constantly greyed out. Maybe this part of the game's just especially on rails? Waiting for the actual harem-building segment? You kind of like a lot of aspects of it anyway, though. Luo Binghe is an especially compelling character, not at all like the usual sort of non-entity placeholder main guys in games like this. He definitely has personality.

But then you get to the third part. The Abyss. Shen Qingqiu pushes Luo Binghe in, and suddenly you're wondering if you've somehow reached a bad end. You were saving up some of those affection points for later, maybe you should have spent them all on him? Was there something you did wrong to make this happen? You're not even sure why he's thrown poor Binghe away, he was cold and cryptic about it, and now you're wondering if all the time you spent distracted by other things was time you should have spent farming a better relationship with him. You can't help but wonder where you went astray, because Luo Binghe will not stop wondering about it, and wondering about it in ways that make you feel oddly like he is accusing you, the player, of making the wrong choices... but in a way that could still plausibly be aimed at himself, as a character. You feel bad. You kind of want to restart, but you also can't bring yourself to abandon Luo Binghe. You have to see this through, to help him make it to the other side.

Regardless, the Endless Abyss seems like it must be an inevitable plot development. A lot of the game shifts to account for it. There's even an option to essentially select this "thought" from Luo Binghe's internal diatribe, that this is inevitable, and it seems to turn off the litany of recriminations for a while, although sometimes it also results in Luo Binghe... glaring at the screen?

At you?

Anyway the daily management system goes out of the window, and instead there's an energy bar now. Encounters with monsters or the occasional demon woman will lower the energy bar, how much depends on what you choose and how the encounters proceed. Sometimes there are romantic/sexy responses for interacting with the demon women you meet, and they aren't greyed out, but if you try and select them the cursor will jump to another option. You think there might be something wrong with your mouse? Sometimes you get Luo Binghe glaring at the screen scenes afterwards. When Binghe's energy bar hits zero, you're offered two choices -- "sleep" or "think of shizun". Sometimes even if you pick "sleep" the cursor will still jump to "think of shizun", and you'll be treated to another one of those slow lingering scenes of Shen Qingqiu. Except they are becoming increasingly strange, obviously warped by the exhaustion and trauma of the situation, so that aspects are eerie or even disturbing. For example, sometimes Shen Qingqiu seems to be missing limbs, or eyes. Sometimes there's blood on his hands. Sometimes the food he's eating is rotted, or the bamboo house background looks like the Qing Jing Peak wood shed. That kind of thing. You don't mind the idea of harm coming to the man. He deserves it, really, for pushing Luo Binghe into the Abyss. But the few times you try and select options along those lines, the UI glitches again.

Also the "think of shizun" option only restores a quarter of the energy bar, whereas resting restores all of it. But if you try to go for too long without doing it, it will lock you into choosing it successively for a long time.

In addition to the energy bar, there's a calendar. It's not all that sophisticated or even consistent, and it's clearly meant to reflect the fact that Luo Binghe has troubles accurately judging the passage of time in the Abyss. However, the longer you spend in the Abyss, the more violent and unhinged things start to become, and the more the UI starts glitching to reveal disturbing messages, and the more often Luo Binghe "glaring" scenes happen. So you decide to do your best to get Binghe out of here as quickly as possible. This part of the game must be broken, but hopefully if you can make to the next segment, it will work properly again.

Eventually you get to the Xin Mo Mission, which is the last part of the Abyss section, and Luo Binghe escapes.

But the weirdness continues. Worsens, even. You still get missions to like, take over the demon realms and infiltrate Huan Hua Palace, all cool stuff, and you still meet girls who seem to unlock possibly romance paths. But most of the time everything is greyed out. There will be 5 dialogue options but maybe only 1 or 2 of them will be selectable. Parts of the menu are inaccessible. You don't have an energy bar anymore, you have a Xin Mo corruption bar, and it just keeps steadily rising. Sometimes you're presented the option of propositioning a character to "mitigate corruption", but if you try and click it the game glitches or the cursor freaks out and it fails. Sometimes the game crashes outright, and when you reload your last save, it starts with Luo Binghe glaring at you through the screen. You still get the "rest" and "think of shizun" options at times, but neither one helps the corruption bar.

Then. Jinlan City. You reunite with Shen Qingqiu. There seem to be a lot of options for acting vengefully towards him, but they're all greyed out, except for a few which let you chase him down or manhandle him a bit. The whole segment is frustrating, full of weird fanservice-y moments but also mired in how little Shen Qingqiu will say, how often he insists on evading or running away, and how Luo Binghe doesn't seem to have the right prompts to actually get him to explain himself. At times it seems like the "think of shizun" mechanic is bleeding over into the real interactions with the character, so that you can't tell what's really going on vs what are the manifestation of Luo Binghe's trauma or even hallucinations. The Xin Mo bar has maxed out. You have to catch Shen Qinqiu. Catch Shen Qingqiu. Catch Shen Qingqiu--

Then suddenly the bar is at 0, and you're watching Shen Qingqiu's lifeless body fall towards the ground, his energy expended in the effort to push back the corruption. Like, all of his energy.

You catch Shen Qingqiu. Or at least, you stop his corpse from hitting the dirt.

Now the game art is crisp and clean again. All the weird UI artifacts and blocked-off menus are either gone altogether or else working properly. The sound, which had been very gradually deteriorating with low-pitched ringing and muffled portions, is normal. You can hear characters gasping and distantly shouting, and birds chirping somewhere, the ragged cadence of Luo Binghe's breaths, while the camera focuses on Shen Qingqiu's body.

Huh, you think. That's a sort of dramatic resolution to that plot arc, and it raised more questions about Shen Qingqiu than it answered, really. But at least it's over with now? Does this mean Luo Binghe can finally start to recover, or advance other plots?

Then everything blacks out. You get booted to the main menu, or something that looks like it, except the only option you can select now is the New Game+ one.

When you click it, it seems like you've started the whole game over again. Except that there is a Xin Mo corruption bar, greyed out, already waiting for in a corner of the screen. And instead of starting out with a view of Qing Jing Peak, you start out with the young Luo Binghe looking directly towards you. Like he's staring through the screen. It's the basic starting point character, except he already has his demon mark on his forehead, and his expression is way more cold and calculating than anything the junior protagonist would have worn.

"Don't get in my way," he warns.

Then the game proceeds like a visual novel with extremely limited choices. The old selections and the menu for various romance routes don't even appear, the menus have all changed again, this time oriented entirely around hiding Luo Binghe's demonic cultivation (while building it) and managing daily choices and Shen Qingqiu's relationship status. A romance game with only one romance route, and it's the treacherous crusty old teacher? Wtf? But otherwise it seems almost normal, except for the special faint-lettered red options that sometimes appear in weird places on the screen, suggesting things like preventing the Skinner demon from catching you unawares, or saving Shen Qingqiu from Without a Cure poisoning, or keeping out of the Endless Abyss.

Those options seem like they should create different outcomes, and you click them whenever they show up, but they consistently fail. As if there's some other force in the game pushing things back onto the rails no matter what you do...

Anyway, eventually you get through the main plot again, and Shen Qingqiu dies once more. This time the game keeps going from that point, however, with quests to try and find ways to resurrect him. You're starting to wonder why you're still playing -- after all, you signed up for a harem game, not this tragic gay love story? You're not even gay! It's just that Luo Binghe is such a compelling character. You decide it's time to take a break, though, so you get up, do some stretches, go to the bathroom, etc.

It feels like someone's watching you.

You've definitely been playing that game for too long. Sometimes you think you catch sight of Luo Binghe's face out of the corner of your eye, in the bathroom mirror or on the black surface of your phone's screen, just before you turn it on. But when you look twice or turn your phone off again, nothing's there. You call your little sister, to apologize for dropping off the face of the earth for a bit, and you joke about getting too invested in this weird game that might be broken? She hasn't heard of it, but she sounds a little worried as she suggests maybe coming over and taking you out to lunch, or something.

You decline -- she's got a lot on her plate, and she mentioned already having plans earlier -- but then you promise to get some fresh air anyway. But when you go to head out, somehow you find yourself turning away at the last minute. You try again, and yet it's like you just keep getting distracted before you can open the door. After a few tries you give up, swallowing down your growing unease. You take off your shoes and coat. When it comes to it, you really do want to find out what happens to Luo Binghe next.

The game is running.

You don't remember turning it back on...?

The screen is focused on the familiar image of Shen Qingqiu's preserved corpse. You can see Luo Binghe's hand in the frame as well, transferring qi in yet another familiar sequence, the one that seems to run at the end of every in-game day. There's some text.

Is it you? the red letters ask, scrawling and flickering, as if someone is attempting to write directly onto the screen. Are you the one behind all this? Thwarting me at every turn?

Yes/No options appear in the game's usual font and position. You try to click "no", even though you're unsure and feel like you must have missed a scene somehow. But the interface warps and when you hit "no" it changes to Stay Silent.

I can't figure out. Are you here to help me, or get in my way?

Help/Harm. You click "help" but again it changes to "stay silent" afterwards.

What do you want from me?

This time there's no option to select at first. Then, as if being shoved onto the screen by some alternative function, a text box opens up. Like the kind that some games have for implementing cheats or selecting character names. This particular game has never shown such a function before, Luo Binghe's name was locked in and you don't even know if it has cheats. The cursor blinks, and somehow it feels as if you have only one chance, and if you don't take it now, it will be gone forever.

You type in "help" and barely manage to hit enter before the interface blinks out. No list of prompts or possible options appear.

Shizun? the red text scrawls, shakily.

Then the whole game crashes.

You wait, but it doesn't start up again. You try to run it again, but you can't find it on your system, somehow. Really weird. Even if it had crashed, it shouldn't have gotten deleted? But you still can't find it. You start to feel genuinely alarmed. Not only can you not find the game on your system, but when you try and search for it absolutely nothing comes up. You try and go to the online shop page for it, but you can't remember where you actually got it from in the first place, now that you're thinking about it.

What bullshit is this?

What, was the game actually some kind of virus? It couldn't have been. Also who would make a virus like that? You get up and pace, trying to make sense of it.

It's gotta be some kind of mistake. Maybe you've just missed too much sleep, you're not thinking right. You'll take a break and when you come back you'll realize that you were just looking in all the wrong places, somehow.

You head over to the fridge to grab something to eat.

You can't remember the last time you went shopping, but the food in there is probably still fine. Right?

[sweetmodel]

How I became a master shifter (+ why methods aren't working for you)

Hello! I’ve been seeing a lot of disinformation lately, and I’ve noticed that some people might need help, so I wanted to chime in. I can shift whenever I want, and I see a LOT of limiting beliefs—but I understand because I was once on the other side.

Disclaimer: This is all based on my personal experience with how I became a master shifter. You’ll want to read everything—it’s important.

I first shifted around March 2022. I would always use methods. I would affirm, tell myself I was detached from this reality, and so on. During my very first shift, I literally affirmed all night long (if this sounds familiar, it’s because I used to have another blog here, lol). You know, really complicated stuff. Then... things changed. I couldn’t shift anymore. I kept using the same methods, but they didn’t work!

That’s when I started questioning everything about shifting and consciousness. Why was it that I could be in another reality where things like magic exist, but then suddenly I couldn’t shift anymore? Why were the methods, like lucid dreaming or the void, seemingly more powerful than the act of switching realities itself? Why, when I shifted from my Desired Reality to my Current Reality, all I needed to do think of my CR to shift back—but it didn’t work the other way around?

None of it made sense! And I’m sure many others have asked themselves these same questions.

I came up with two theories:

This reality has something unique compared to the infinite other realities. To shift from here, you need something extra, like a method.

There’s something else at play, something unrelated to the realities themselves.

I dismissed the first option. There’s nothing inherently special about this reality. So why do we use methods here but not in our DRs?

Then, I thought back to how I used to shift... detaching from my body, affirming until I shifted. It all aligned with my subconscious beliefs. The method didn’t work because that’s how shifting works, but because it made sense to my subconscious. Of course I would shift if I did these things—because that’s what I believed shifting required.

Well... kind of. As I said, it made sense because it aligned with my beliefs. So when the method failed, I wasn’t letting myself shift.

Did you catch that? I didn’t let myself shift. Of course, it wasn’t the method. At what point do you actually shift? Is it when you affirm? Do you really think the universe is just waiting for you to say the right thing enough times before it switches you to your DR?

No. It’s you.

So, you have two choices:

Find a method that truly aligns with your beliefs, or

Change your subconscious beliefs.

Changing your beliefs might seem hard, but I’m going to explain why it’s not as difficult as it feels.

All your life, you’ve had certain beliefs, but those beliefs came from somewhere. You weren’t born thinking you need methods to shift—it’s something that developed over time. Which means it’s not set in stone. It can be changed.

I realized that every reality holds the same weight. There’s NOTHING you can do in this one—no intrusive thoughts or negative emotions—that can stop you. Why? Because those thoughts and emotions are products of this reality. Shifting is simply changing what you’re aware of. That’s literally it. Anything outside of that can’t stop you.

Yes, we’ve all seen those posts saying things like, "Oh, you’re not focused enough" or "You spend too much time on X, Y, Z" or even "You don’t go outside enough" (I legit read this on here—y'all are wildin’). Are you in your DR thinking "Oh, I thought about failing to shift, it means I won't :("? Of course you aren't! But nothing can stop you from shifting. Nothing can stop you from being aware that you are a master shifter.

So, how do you become aware of that?

I started affirming throughout the day. I would tell myself these things:

I’m pure consciousness. I create my reality, and everything around me is just what I choose to perceive.

I’m a master shifter. I don’t need methods. All I need to do is choose to shift, think of my DR, and it happens.

Nothing in the 3D can stop me from shifting, because I’m in the 4D and pure consciousness.

I told myself these things constantly, and I truly understood what I was affirming. What being pure consciousness and being a master shifter actually meant. I stopped using methods. I stopped acting like this reality was special compared to the ones I wanted to be in. And then... it happened.

I shifted. During the day. I simply thought of my DR, told myself, I want to shift, and there I was—in my DR. It happened because, as I said, my subconscious beliefs changed and then manifested in my reality. The same way they did when I believed I needed methods.

Naturally, I stopped using methods. I stopped trying to shift. I no longer thought, Okay, tonight I’m going to shift, and I'm going to use X method. Because that’s not how you think or act when you’re a master shifter. I let go—why would I bother using a method before sleeping when I could just stand up, think about my DR, and be there? Why would I bother doing a method before falling asleep when I knew I'm a master shifter?

I allowed myself to shift. It was me! When people ask, What method did you use? What did you do to shift?—do you really, truly believe it’s the method that makes you shift? Of course you do, because you live in a reality that seems logical, and you apply that logic to shifting. But shifting isn’t logical! It just happens! I have no idea why—it’s literally just magic to me—but that’s how it works.

So, you need to understand: You make it happen. That’s a good thing, right? It means you don’t need methods, and you don’t need to keep searching for “the key.”

Anyway, I hope this helps someone. (Also yes, before you tell me, I know this is basically Law Of Assumption. But I wanted to explain it in more of shifting terms)

(Also if someone wants to post this to another social you have my permission- especially reddit since I was active in that community but I deleted my acc lol)

Edit: Hey guys there are some additional notes in the comments that might be useful!

[foldingfittedsheets]

At this point in our relationship my betrothed is well versed in my compulsive need to help animals. It wasn’t part of their upbringing but it was a huge part of mine. So now whether it’s lost dogs or injured birds they know that for me it’s not a matter of convenience, it’s just the only possible option.

My most notable rescue took place during one of the least opportune times. We were watching a friends boxer puppy, Bella. The dog was dumber than a box of rocks and I took deep offense that at six months old she still didn’t know her own name. My betrothed and I were working with her on that as well as leash manners, so we walked her frequently.

On our way home from a walk I looked across the street and saw a cat. My betrothed didn’t need to ask, it was simply a given that faced with a cat I’d go say hello, so they waited with Bella as I crossed the road.

As I approached the cat several things caught my attention. The first was that he wasn’t wearing a collar. The second was that his coat was greasy and disheveled- this was not a cat that was thriving if he didn’t have energy to groom. The third thing was that he was way too skinny, with bones jutting out from his shabby coat.

The fourth thing I noticed was that this cat was a purebred Bengal.

Now, I understand that it’s suspect to identify cats as bengals. Many people see tabbies and call them bengals. But as a teenager I became obsessed with these cats and went on a hyper obsessive deep dive. I spent hours reading about them, looking at pictures, and dreaming about Bengal cats.

The cat in front of me had unmistakable rosettes, the narrow frame, piercing eyes, and from a very rough estimation probably cost thousands of dollars. There was no world in which he should be wandering my neighborhood with no collar and his ribs jutting out.

Which all led me to one conclusion. He was lost.

The second I realized that it was over. It wasn’t a matter of thinking the situation through it was a simple conclusion: he was lost so I would help him by any means necessary.

This sweet cat showed he was friendly and trotted right over to greet me. I pet him and tentatively went for a lift. He did not care for that. Suddenly we were tussling, and it was instantly clear to me that he was going to stay lost if I couldn’t restrain him, so we pitted all our wiles against each other and at one point I had him agonizingly by just a toe but I refused to let go and finally I had him in my arms, one hand scruffing him and the other supporting his weight.

That’s when I noticed a couple things. There was blood dripping down my elbow. Across the street Bella was going crazy barking and pulling toward me and the cat. And my betrothed was giving me an agonized look.

Without a word they started power walking Bella back to our house. I followed at a slower pace, keeping my grip on this poor lost cat.

It was a warm summer afternoon and several neighbors were out chatting. They saw the circus parade of my betrothed dragging a yelping puppy and me following holding a screaming cat.

Oh yeah. So I forgot to mention. Bengals are not normal cats. They’re bred back with a wild cat and their vocalizations are on a completely different level. The cat in my arms wasn’t meowing or yowling. Instead he was making one long continuous eldritch wailing, oscillating in rage and distress.

My neighbors saw this, me, stonefaced carrying a cat who was casting evil spells with his voice, blood dripping down my arm, while a puppy frantically fought my betrothed to reach us, and they laughed.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more offended that no one offered any assistance, but it was fine. I knew I could count on my betrothed. I slowed my steps slightly again when I saw my betrothed round our corner. I knew they would kennel the puppy and bring a cat crate for me.

Sure enough, I rounded the corner and they had our door open, crate at the ready. I popped the Bengal into the carrier and we shut him into the bathroom.

Then I looked at my shaking, bloody hand. He’s scraped his back claws up me and it wasn’t deep but I was bleeding heavily. Then I looked at my betrothed and started to cry.

They held me while I had a panic attack and helped me thoroughly peroxide my cuts.

“That was so brave, weren’t you scared to grab him?” they asked me.

Truly, no. I think to be brave or scared you need to actually conceptualize what you’re doing and I hadn’t. I saw a cat that needed help, and then there wasn’t options, I just acted.

They asked what my plan was and I didn’t have one. Where would we put him, in a home with three other cats and a puppy? I don’t know. I just grabbed him.

We ended up calling a friend who’s special interest is dog rescue. She brought her chip reader and a huge dog crate we could keep him in overnight with a disposable little box, food, and water.

He’d been summoning demons behind the bathroom door the whole time, making sounds previously confined to various netherworlds but she bravely uncaged him to read if he had a chip. No, to my surprise. It also turned out he was a love machine despite the ghastly sounds.

We loved on him and gave him small portions of food every fifteen minutes so he didn’t eat himself sick.

The next day we brought him to the local pet rescue, after I called ahead to warn them I was bringing in a Bengal. The lady had a very blasé attitude about this claim, clearly used to people claiming every lost tabby was a rare cat breed.

When she pulled him out of the crate she exclaimed, “Oh my god, it is a Bengal!”

“That’s what I promised. One whole ass Bengal.”

We said our goodbyes to the sweet man, and the posted him on the website as a found pet. He was picked up by his family two days later. I’ll never know how he escaped but I’m certain his family was so grateful to have him returned.