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lilac-5ky · 2 years

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To Bake A Cake (Takasugi x Birthday Fem!Reader)

A/N: Last month was my birthday and I decided to write myself a birthday fic including my beloved, but due to certain annoying family situations, it took me ages to finish ;-; But it's finally done, and voila, I decided to post it even though my birthday was over 2 weeks ago lmao.

Plot: After a run-in with Sakamoto, Takasugi realizes it's your birthday, and decides to grant you a wish. Who could have thought such wish involved whisking and baking?

guest starring tatsuma and mutsu because i realized ive pretty much never included them in anything.

Warning: Comedic fluff with lots of smut :p

(here's a ss gif because im too much a chicken to dive in the final arc just yet ;-; but he looks fine af and ;-;)

“Takasugi?”

If there is one thing Takasugi Shinsuke has learned during his rather unpleasant sojourn in life, it’s that the sound of his name seldom accompanies a blessing. Everywhere he went, disaster followed, and this place was no exception.

Be it at Edo Mart or a terminal millions of miles away from Earth, a world renowned terrorist should never even dream of setting foot inside a tobacco store with such abandon. Still that was exactly what he did, and now, he was left with no other choice, but to face the consequences of his poor decision making.

With the smoke still in hand, Takasugi hurried out of the store. A head-on confrontation in the middle of the crowd wouldn’t do, and so he kept on walking, until the voice of his pursuer faded into existence. Had he misheard? Could it be that he’d grown paranoid enough to be chased by illusions?

Bewildered, he packed the tobacco inside his yukata, when a disturbingly familiar cackle reached his ears.

“Damn, I can’t believe it was actually you.” The silhouette of a man dressed in a red duster and a pair of dark circular shades said. “If I didn’t know any better, I would have assumed you avoided me.”

This was far worse than a rogue bounty hunter, space fighter or Naraku assassin catching whiff of him. Something he dreaded more than all three combined.

“What if I was?” Takasugi taunted.

“That’s not how you greet an old friend, Takasugi. Especially when we haven’t spoken in years!” Sakamoto pouted, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “My letters haven’t reached the Kihentai?”

“They haven’t.” He replied in a stern tone, ignoring his friend’s comment.

In reality, Takasugi had gotten his hands on every single letter Sakamoto sent his way, though he never answered back any of them. That’s not to say he never tried to, more like he was incapable of doing so. What would he write? What was there for him to say when there was nothing piecing the two together?

Idle small talk was never his thing. He couldn’t just go back to the time when the four of them chattered about everything and nothing in particular all at once. The bonds of the past belonged in the depths of his mind, along with the memories they shared. No matter how much he yearned to traverse that limit, the only road for him was the one lying ahead. He had no time for distractions.

“That’s a shame.” Sakamoto said, buying into it. “Have you met with the others then? I hear Zura is in the same field you are.”

“Same field, entirely different agenda.” He scoffed. “Let’s just say Zura’s more like a prickle pointing at my side rather than an ally.”

“I find that hard to believe. Wasn’t he the one to always clean after your mess?”

“We’re old enough to be cleaning after our own messes. Times change, Tatsuma. I’m sure you know that best.” He sighed, taking a few steps further away from the crowd, and hopefully, away from this discussion.

“People don’t. When I look at you, I only see the same idiot who put his life on the line for a lost war. Same goes for the others.”

By the looks of it, getting rid or him wouldn’t be this easy. Even when Takasugi walked away, Sakamoto kept trailing after him, until the two made it past the quiet corner of a souvenir shop. As if anyone would want a memento to remember this god-forsaken land by. Other than a safe heaven for criminals and merchants to conduct their business in discretion, this planet offered next to nothing. The lack of sustainable tourism was enough proof for that.

At the back of the store, lied a handful of vacant chairs, one of which Sakamoto sat on and another of which Takasugi rejected. He had no particular intention to get all cozy by his side, not when the cold metallic wall felt far more welcoming.

“Was this supposed to come off as an insult or a compliment?” Takasugi sneered.

“Just an old friend’s insight.” Sakamoto chuckled, stretching his limbs. “I take it you haven’t been talking with Kintoki either.”

“I haven’t.” He admitted, the last time the two of them conversed -or, rather squabbled- still vivid in his brain.

“In that case, why don’t we plan a reuni- ”

“I’m busy.” He cut him off.

“But I never said when-”

“I’ll be busy.”

The last thing he needed was a get-together with these three idiots. Running into one of them was bad enough on its own, be it the lesser evil. Even if part of him wanted to gather around a campfire, tossing stories and insults as if nothing ever soured between them, there was no way he’d never admit it. Not to himself, and certainly, not to him.

“I should get going.” Takasugi said, looking to end this little misfortune, when Sakamoto jumped before him.

“Wait! I didn’t tell you why I was here in the first place.” Sakamoto exclaimed, revealing a rather large box from behind his back, one that Takasugi had failed to notice in prior.

“I don’t remember asking.” He smirked in an attempt to hide his curiosity.

“I was gonna have this delivered at your ship, but since you are here, you should take it.” He said, urging him to grab the parcel. “It’s for Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Takasugi asked, visibly intrigued. He was aware the two of you shared the same beginnings in life, but he would’ve never guessed you’d kept contact after the war.

“Takasugi, don’t tell me you don’t remember your own girlfriend’s birthday.” Sakamoto said in a semi-accusatory tone.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He objected, the latter part of the sentence having yet to register.

He’d rather take his other eye out than let others define your relationships as that of a boyfriend and a girlfriend, but at the same time, Takasugi was unsure of what to actually introduce you as. The woman he slept with seemed too shallow, the woman he loved too grandiose. Perhaps the term partner was the closest at doing you justice. Still, titles meant nothing when he knew precisely what you were, and that was his.

His and only his.

“Is she not? Wow, then I suppose it’s not too late for me to shoot my shot.” Sakamoto declared with a grin.

“Not unless you want to get shot first.”

At his threat, Sakamoto couldn’t help but burst into laughter, nearly dropping the box to the ground. Which he would have done, had it not been for Takasugi successfully catching it midair. It was even heavier than it looked, he noted as he balanced it against his hip.

“I was just kidding! Well, not entirely, but I don’t suppose you plan on sharing, right?”

His silence was the only answer he could spare. A merchant should know better than to go after things that were never up for sale in the first place.

“Besides, I’m happy things worked out between you two. Y/N was a real knockout back home. I never worried about her hitting it off with someone, but you finding someone who can put up with your grumpiness long term? That’s amazing!” He went on, following his words with another of his distinct cackles.

Takasugi could feel himself getting increasingly irked with every word Sakamoto spewed, even when deep down he could see his point. It was true that he wasn’t the world’s easiest person and that you’d endured hell by choosing to stay around a guy like him. Maybe to others it looked as if you were the one who needed him, considering how you always clung onto him, but in reality, it was the other way around. You were the only one who could make these dark clouds disperse, the only one he truly needed.

“Remember how just about half the girls were in love with you, yet the second you looked their way they ran away? Or how you made that girl cry right after she confessed? Poor thing, she even made you a card! Or-or, how every time we went down to Yoshiwara, no girl managed to spend an entire night with you without-”

Just when he was about to mellow down a bit, Sakamoto started speaking again, his laughter constantly breaking his own sentences in half.

“Will you keep listing more unpleasant incidents?” Takasugi asked through gritted teeth, finding it impossible to maintain his composure.

“No, of course not! I was just pointing out how you seem to have found your one true match. Really puts the whole ‘there’s someone out there for everyone’ thing into perspective.” Sakamoto grinned earnestly.

“Then you are lucky more than half the population tends to your standards.” He mumbled, as he lowered his gaze towards the box.

Why did he not know it was your birthday today? No matter how busy he was, he couldn’t have possibly forgotten, unless he never knew about it in the first place.

Come think of it, you first met amidst the war. A merchant’s daughter with great prospects and an even greater future awaiting her, choosing to fund a war she wasn’t part of, and it was all because of him. Because ever since you met, you kept trying to earn his attention through whatever means necessary.

He remembered how persistent you were, suggesting he owed you so much as a mere talk when you’d burnt all this money on his cause. At first, he saw no reason for you to get too friendly with one another. All you were was a friend of a friend, and so, he’d brushed your advances, blatantly stating that no amount of yen was enough to buy him. However, you weren’t disheartened. You kept asking him to name his price over and over again, until he finally caved in and took you on a crappy date by the shore.

Truthfully, he sucked at dating, back then and right now. The right words never came easily, and getting involved with someone during such a crucial point of his life was a hassle. But even when he’d chosen to maintain his silence, idly tossing rocks into the sea, you’d chosen to grab a stone of your own, and join him without a single complaint. You’d stayed by his side until the awkward silence became comfortable, until the moon gave way to the sun, until your nights were filled with hasty kisses and unbottled chuckles.

And then the war came to an end. All survivors either returned home, or found a new place to call that, but he wasn’t among those. Perhaps he never survived that war, perhaps he never left the battlefield. He kept on dragging the horrors of the past with him, but worse, he kept dragging you along.

You were the person he valued more than his life, that was for certain. Every smile, every kiss, every night, even your own future, you’d given that all without asking for anything in return. But why was it that you’d kept something so trivial a secret? Why was it that he had no actual recollection of you ever celebrating a damn occasion by his side? Why was it that he felt as if the times you’d cried outnumbered the ones you’d smiled?

“But, Takasugi, you should know better than to disappoint her.” Sakamoto interrupted his thoughts. “Between you and me, women really do care about birthdays and anniversaries more than we do. You should also get her a little something while you still have time. Usually something shiny or pretty cuts it, but if push comes to shove, then you could always push or shove something else into her-”

Before Takasugi had the chance to truly grasp his friend’s explicit hints, a punch came raining down on him, sending his glasses flying and his head to meet the floor.

“I thought I heard a dog barking.” The voice of a woman spoke in a harsh tone, her presence revealed behind the man’s fallen body.

Long brown hair concealed by a straw hat. Fair complexion and cunning eyes. He’d only seen this woman once before, though such formidable persona was unforgettable.

“Mu-Mutsu?” Sakamoto squeaked.

“Didn’t you promise to stay put, Sakamoto? Do I really need to tie a leash around your neck?” She asked, rubbing the point of her shoe against his throat.

“Wh—what are you talking about? We were only catching up!” Sakamoto cried, attempting to lift her leg with both hands.

“Seems like your second-in-command is far more perceptive than you are, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smirked. “Too bad she’s wasting her potential. Although it’s not too late to reconsider.”

“I’m afraid I see no profit in terrorism.” Mutsu scorned, kicking Sakamoto’s palms off her while he rolled to the side in relief. “Besides, who knows what will become of this idiot, should he stay unsupervised long enough?”

“Fair enough. Although you should take care of yourself. Idiocy is highly contagious.” He said, lightly stepping over a writhing Sakamoto.

“After all these years, I’d like to think I’ve grown immune.” She replied, following his lead.

“There are no bigger idiots than the ones who claim they aren’t. Mix it up with someone like them once, and it’s already too late to go back.”

“Experience speaking?”

“Something like that.”

“Gu-guys, can you not have this discussion on top of me?” Sakamoto begged, trying his best to retract his hands.

With a light chuckle, Takasugi obliged to his friend’s wishes, turning his back on the two of them. “Well then. I’ll be taking my leave now.”

“Oi, Takasugi, don’t forget about what I said! Make sure to-Ouch!”

Once he’d distanced himself from the scene, Takasugi stopped a final time to look over his shoulder. Mutsu kept making use of Sakamoto’s hair as if it were a mop, sweeping just about every piece of dirt, until his pleas disappeared along with the two of them behind the crowds.

“It really was good seeing you, Tatsuma.” Takasugi smiled, his steps heavier than before as he marched in the opposite direction.

“I thought you said you’d buy some smoke before we take off, not harvest an entire field yourself.”

At the sound of the door opening, you set your book down. You’d lost count of how many pages you’d flipped up until Takasugi decided to make it back to his room. For all you knew, hours, or even days had gone by. There was no real telling in the vastness of space. Everything moved at its own pace.

Still, what he did was unforgivable. Subjecting you to the dullness of going through the same book over and over again, while he was out there, most likely caught up in some incredibly fun story you’d missed on.

“If only.” Takasugi stated in a dry tone, closing the door behind him. “Instead, I was made into a messenger by an old friend of yours.”

“An old friend of mine?” You repeated, propping your jaw against your elbows.

There were little to no candidates for him to meet up in space. With the majority of your friends being either at odds with him or straight up unable to afford such a trip, the obvious answer would be Sakamoto. Not because he didn’t belong in either category, but because on a day like this, he was the only with a reason to seek you out.

Your suspicions were confirmed the moment Takasugi presented you with a rather hefty looking box, one that he set onto the floor before making his way towards the window. This definitely was the work of your childhood friend, you concluded, though you couldn’t resist playing dumb with your guesses.

“Hmm… could it be Gintoki?”

A thin cloud of smoke spiraled from his direction, the silence serving as response.

“Zura then?”

More smoke.

“Nobume?” You insisted.

“Just how many old friends do you have?” He stated, rather than asked.

“Then… Shige Shige?”

“Since when you’ve gotten friendly with the Shogun?”

“Since you’ve been taking hours to shop for tobacco.” You taunted, finding enjoyment in your little back and forth.

“Charming.” He smirked, at last turning around. “Tatsuma asked me to bring this to you.”

“Then I guess I have no right to nag you any longer. I wonder what it is!” You gleefully exclaimed in a singing voice, while your hands fumbled with the tape.

Ever since the two of you were mere brats back in Tosa, you’d come up with this weird tradition of finding the wackiest birthday gifts for one another. From vagina scented candles for your eleventh birthday, to a calendar full of inappropriate seasonal pictures of Tamo-san for his twelfth, each year the competition grew more severe than before, with nothing but the sky serving as the limit.

Your anticipation grew bigger over each tape that came off, and you could tell you weren’t the only one. A keen orb of green kept following your every movement while its owner timed each step of his with another puff of smoke. To be fair, he was doing a great job concealing his interest, and if it weren’t for his pipe nearly dropping off his lips at the sight of your gift, then you wouldn’t have known.

Admittedly, it took more time for you to realize what the item in hand was, than for Takasugi to recover from his rapid coughing. The two circular objects at the base, the pink colored mushroomy tip, the vein-like lines engraved all around… Judging by its size alone, it resembled more that of a greatsword than of a sex toy. It was ridiculously big, both in length and girth.

“Is that…?” Takasugi asked, not daring to finish his question.

Picking the dildo up, you failed close your palms around its head. This was definitely not meant for humans, or, at least, not one of your physique.

“I lost.” You admitted, realizing there was no way to ever surpass him now. “I actually lost.”

“There is a note.” He pointed back inside the box.

“Oh? You are right. Let’s see,” you paused to unfold the paper, “ ‘Dear Y/N, I hope this letter finds you in good health, and I wish you a very happy birth-Autumn, from the bottom of my heart.” You quickly glanced up at Takasugi, though he didn’t say a word.

That was a close one!

“That’s quite courteous of him!” You awkwardly chuckled.

“Anyways, ‘In the past month we managed to expand our business in Rakuyo, and this is one of our first prototypes. With the majority of Yato warriors scattered around the galaxy, their women tend to wallow in loneliness and frustration. We hope that with time, they can learn to open their hearts, along with their legs to us.’ Typical Tatsuma.” You chuckled, while Takasugi scoffed.

“Hmm, according to him, its name is ‘Master Sword 69’ and-oh, the tip is detachable and, if you insert batteries, it also works as a foot massager! That’s thoughtful.”

“Is that all?” He sighed.

You unfolded the rest of the letter, finding a postscript right at the end.

“‘P.S. I sincerely hope Takasugi is not as big of a bore in bed as he used to be.’ Oh, Tatsuma.” You giggled, unable to contain yourself. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

“Idiots never change.” Takasugi mumbled as he returned to the window.

“But Shinsuke, what’s that thing he said about you being a boring lover? Is there anything I should know?” You asked, not bothering to suppress your amusement.

“Nothing in particular.”

“Oh come on, I bet there is a great story behind this.” You insisted, only to be treated with more silence.

You didn’t need to take a look at his face to know he was sulking. With his eye narrowing to a slit, and the pouty expression of his lips, you’d grown plenty familiar with that side of his. What others saw as menacing, you only saw as absolutely adorable, to the point of you refusing to spend another minute apart.

You really had missed him.

“It’s fine. No need to tell me.” You mumbled as you pressed your head against the nape of his neck.

He was insistent on facing the opposite direction, but you didn’t mind. As long as he gave you the freedom to wrap your arms around his torso, to take in on his wonderfully intoxicating scent, to pepper every inch of bare skin you could find in kisses, then it was all fine by you.

“You plan on using that?” He eventually asked, huffing some of the smoke your way.

“Not if I can help it. I’d still choose to use you over anyone and anything else.” You cooed, planting your lips near the shell of his ear. “Only you can make me feel this way.”

“And what would that way be?” He asked in a gentler tone.

“Just, you know.” You left a peck upon his cheek. “The best kind of way.”

Although he didn’t mean for you to see it, a tiny smile broke through his grave expression as he caved in to your touch. That was Takasugi for you. No matter the sharpness of his eye, and the shrewdness of his words, the way his free hand cupped over your own revealed all you needed to know. From the moment you first took hold of each other, to this moment here, he remained as enamored with you as he was back then.

The two of you stayed like that for quite a while, until Takasugi drew his kiseru away from his lips to store it inside his clothes.

“What do you want?” He asked, circling his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hmm?” You tilted your head.

“Is there anything you want for your birthday?”

“You knew?” You yelped, letting go of him at once.

“You take me for an idiot?” Takasugi inquired as he turned around.

“….No.” You sighed. Switching out ‘birthday’ for autumn had really done it.

It wasn’t as if you actively tried to keep your birthday a secret, but with the war and him turning to terrorism, there was never really an appropriate moment to mention it. You couldn’t simply show up one day with cake and balloons and surprise your own self, and being the one to casually announce it didn’t feel quite right either. In the end, you pushed this occasion to the back of your brain, the sole reminder of which became Sakamoto’s annual presents.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked with genuine concern.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just that,” you lowered your head “I didn’t want to weigh you down with another responsibility. I know how exhausting everything is for you, I see it every single day when you collapse in bed without saying a word. I don’t want to be the one to add more to that, nor do I wish to pressure you into buying me a gift or pulling a surprise on me. Just getting to spend my every day with you is enough for me.”

“Y/N.” His voice commanded. “Our lives so far have been filled with more sorrows than I care to count. My eye has seen more horrors than I wish to remember. Do you really think that your birthday would add to either?”

“N-no…” You admitted, shying away from his gaze.

“Then I find no reason for you to be keeping that from me. We’ve each carried the other’s sorrows long enough. Let us carry a joy for once.”

He was right. If only you’d just mentioned it to him before, then you wouldn’t have to embarrass yourself like this in front of him. It was only right that he knew, especially when you’d never missed the chance to surprise him on his own birthday.

“So tell me. Is there anything you want?” Takasugi asked again.

“Are you serious about the ‘anything’ part?” You smiled in mischief, quickly snapping out of your own dejection.

Arching an eyebrow, Takasugi took a step closer until you stood eye to eye. You couldn’t tell whether he was trying to read your mind or intimidate you into giving up on your idea, but either way, you both knew it was too late for him to go back on his offer.

“You’ll really do anything I ask?”

He was most likely regretting ever suggesting that, though he didn’t show it. Instead, he merely nodded, perhaps his curiosity winning him over a second time.

“…Sure.”

This was all the confirmation you needed. “Then, follow me!”

“What kind of wish fulfilling involves a kitchen?” Takasugi asked the second you set foot in the ship’s kitchen.

Out of all the shenanigans you’d gotten him mixed up in, out of every bad idea he’d suffered through, this one would come to top them all. But it was your birthday, and he’d been so generous as to present you with an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that you weren’t too keen on brushing off. Even if he protested, even if he tried to claw his way out, you’d make sure that by the time the two of you left the room, it’d be with your objective in hand; a cake.

“Shinsuke, what is the first thing you think about when you hear the word ‘birthday’?”

“Death.” He bluntly stated. “It’s a reminder that your time is running out.”

“Weren’t you the one who spoke against sharing nothing but sorrows?” You argued in disbelief. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grim, but that was beyond your expectations. “Let’s just skip to the point. A birthday without cake is no birthday at all.”

His expression had turned completely vacant, to the point of you being able to hear imaginary crickets chirping in the background.

“My wish is for you to bake me a cake!”

Even more chirping.

Had he not heard you? You weren’t too sure about that, though once he turned to the door, you realized he’d not only been listening to your every word, but was already planning his escape.

“You said you’d-ugh, do anything! You can’t-ugh, leave!” You exclaimed as you threw yourself to the door, blocking the exit with your body.

Just like he had no intention of honoring his word, you had no intention of letting him go either. A direct confrontation would result in your defeat, but when you managed to get hold of the door’s key, there was little he could do. It was game over. At least for now.

“You know, this won’t be enough to stop me.” Takasugi sneered, watching as you stuffed the key inside your kimono. “There are many ways for me to get that key back.”

“I’d like to see you try. The only way outside these holy grounds is through my satisfaction.”

At your declaration, he couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow.

“Now, let’s get to work!” You said as you paced further inside the room, a groaning Takasugi following closely.

Truth is, you’d only been in the kitchen a handful times before. The Kiheitai already possessed designated personnel to handle everyone’s meals, and unless either of you wanted to snack on something specific, -namely, Takasugi on his beloved beverage- there was no need to spend any time in here, meaning, you had no idea where to find anything.

Starting with the fridge seemed like a reasonable idea, you thought to yourself as you tied your hair into a high ponytail. Eggs, butter and, thankfully, heavy cream. You laid everything on top of the counter before making your way around the drawers, checking the final ingredients off your list. So far, so good.

The real struggle came with finding the appropriate utensils. Bowls and cutlery were easy enough to locate. You even got yourself a light-pink apron in the process, yet no matter how hard you looked, the mixer was nowhere to be found.

“Where is the mixer?” You asked once you’d checked just about every cabinet.

“How am I supposed to know? What kind of faction do you think I’m running?” He snapped, refusing to help in the slightest.

Disappointed, you were about to call it quits when you remembered seeing a whisk somewhere in there, which wasn’t quite the same, but if a certain glaring samurai were to assist, nothing was impossible.

“There’s a whisk!” You announced, presenting it to him.

More cricket sounds. He looked at it as if he’d never seen another.

“You really haven’t cooked anything in your life, have you?”

“I have.” He lied.

“What was it?” You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Onigiri.”

“That doesn’t make you any less of a culinary virgin, Shinsuke. I bet Zura was the one to handle the majority of the work while all you did was boss him around.” You accused, waving the whisk at his face.

“Not a lie.” He smirked.

“It’s a wonder people follow you when you refuse to get your hands dirty.” You mumbled. “But fear not! Today, your cherry gets popped. As long as we are in here, you are no Kiheitai leader, but a rookie whose wish is my com-no, my wish is your command” You corrected. “Understood?”

Although evidently irritated, Takasugi ended up agreeing to your suggestion, going so far as to accept the whisk from your hands.

“Perhaps you could call me senpai while you’re at it-”

“Not a chance, birthday girl.” He interrupted.

“Fine, fine. Let’s start with the base.”

One by one, you tossed the ingredients in the bowl, while he mixed them together with just about zero enthusiasm. He was such a handful!

“You know, it will take forever if you do it like that.” You commented, slipping behind his back and then claiming his hand with yours. “Let me show you.”

Propping your chin on top of his shoulder, you started to vigorously shake his hand back and forth around the bowl, making sure that everything got mixed thoroughly.

“If you don’t do it this way, the ingredients won’t mesh well together and there will be lumps of flour.” You explained, unaware of how rather than paying attention to your words, Takasugi kept staring down your lips.

As he got the hang of it, his hand began moving on its own. “That’s it! Keep it up, and-”

Before you could finish your sentence, you took notice in how close the two of you were. With your bodies pressed together and his lips curling into a lazy smile, you forgot all about what it was that you wanted to say.

“Y-you can handle things from here.” You stuttered, pulling yourself away. “I’ll go bring the pan.”

Even after all these years, it was so easy for him to get under your skin. One look of his, and your mind was already filling up with intrusive thoughts that involved him using his hands on something else. He’d always been skilled with his fingers, be it at fighting, cooking, or…

Get your shit together, you scolded yourself, repeatedly patting your palms flat against your burning cheeks.

“What’s taking you so long?” His voice queried from the other side of the room.

“Coming!”

Once the pan was in the oven and the timer set, the time for the the filling came. Neither your supplies nor your skills allowed much room for creativity and so, you decided to keep things simple. Some heavy cream and sugar would do just fine, but even for that, his help was needed.

“Can you do this for me?” You brought a clean bowl forth.

“Is that a question, or a command?” Takasugi asked.

“A little bit of both.” You smiled as he took the bowl from your hands. “Do it harder than before. You’ll know it’s ready when peaks start to form.”

It was nice to see him take things more seriously. For someone who was fixed on destroying the world, to be baking cakes certainly was out of character, but at the same time, the image felt somewhat natural to you.

Back when the outcome of the war had yet to be defined, and the two of you had the freedom to dream, you’d pictured such a life countless of times. Instead of sneaking around between stranded beaches and hollow willow trees, you’d be greeting each other under the same roof. He’d nag about the different ways Gintoki -or another of his subordinates- got on his nerves that day, while you’d be setting the table, welcoming his every complaint with a warm smile.

Then after you’d finish dining, you’d move onto the couch under the pretense of watching some crappy show none of you cared about, just he could snake his arm around your shoulders. And at the first yawn, you’d lay side by side on the same bed where you’d be free to cradle his face in your hands and fawn over how beautiful your reflection appeared in his emerald green eyes. You’d whisper ‘I love you’s’ to each other with no fear for tomorrow, knowing that this life would not be taken away from you.

The Takasugi in front of you resembled that of your dreams a lot, except this one kept hissing in frustration at his sleeves. No matter how many times he rolled them out of the way, they insisted to fall inside the bowl, cutting his movements short. With a smile, you placed your hand on top of his. This version of him was perfect enough already.

“Need some help?” You teased, lifting one of his sleeves out of the way.

“I’m fine.” He didn’t sound convincing in the slightest.

You chuckled at his refusal. He was always like that, as if it would kill for him to receive the aid of anyone. If he could bring this world down by himself, then you had no doubt, he’d choose to do that without speaking to another soul. Be it his burdens or his sleeves, unless you forcefully lifted them for him, then he’d insist on doing things the hard way.

With some his frustration evaporating, Takasugi managed to bring the cream to its appropriate state; not too fluffy and not too thick either. You let go off his sleeves and he let go of the whisk, turning the bowl around so to inspect it properly.

“Looks good.” He deducted.

You nodded in agreement. “Let’s see…”

Dipping the tip of a spoon in, you took a taste of your creation. He really had a knack for this. It tasted wonderful!

“Mmm, it’s sweet.” You exclaimed, licking it clean. “Want some?”

For a moment, you saw him contemplate his answer before reaching out. You took it as an invitation, and so you dipped the spoon back in, though you never had the chance to deliver it. Instead, your hand was caught mid-air by his, with your unsuspecting lips falling victim to his own. You gasped, nearly letting go off the spoon as you closed your eyes, finding a taste far more wonderful than any cream you’d ever tasted.

“Indeed.” He breathed. “Very sweet.”

With his fingers pressing at your wrist, Takasugi pulled you closer, until you landed in his arms, and until the thought of holding onto that stupid spoon vanished behind a loud clang. He pressed a kiss upon your lips and then you pressed another, your tongues tugging and swirling in imperfect sync, as you both felt the heat rise in between your bodies. You wanted more, and he was more than willing to take from you.

It was only when you felt his palms dropping to your bum that you realized what he was trying to do. That bastard was way too damn good at this.

“Seducing me won’t work.” You whispered and he chuckled, not at your words, but at how you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from him.

“It won’t?” He taunted, fully aware of the answer. Whatever it was that he was doing, you had no power to resist.

Without breaking apart from your mouth, Takasugi carried you all the way towards the closest unoccupied flat surface he could find. A cold sensation trickled down your spine as you made contact with the hard metal. Not in a million years would you ever think that you’d be doing this with him, yet there you were, spreading your legs wide open for him to nest in between.

His arm remained hooked around your waist when all of a sudden you felt him stop. You opened your eyes along with your lips, sheepishly staring at him with nothing but desire, of which he took advantage. His thumb trailed the outline of your jawline before swiping over your bottom lip. Without thinking twice, you puckered up your lips against it, pressing a peck so gentle as his smile. God, he was so beautiful in that moment, words he stole right out your mouth.

Letting go of you completely, Takasugi lowered himself until his knees met with the floor and the tips of his fingers with your thighs. You glanced down at him, watching as he balanced your knees upon his shoulders, his own gaze solely fixated at your entrance.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You asked, your voice coming out like a croak.

“You wanted to order me around, did you not?” His breath tickled as he moved his head closer. “Look where my hands are now, Y/N.” He demanded, squeezing at your skin. “And my lips.” He went on, leaving each thigh with a kiss. “And my tongue.”

A sharp inhale got caught up in your throat as you felt his wet tongue lap over your clothed slit, the feeling only amplified by the way his eye bore into yours.

“Go ahead and order.” He mumbled, running his tongue along your lips, lest you weren’t convinced already. “How should I use them?”

You had a hard time distinguishing between dream and reality right now. While he always made sure you got to have as much fun as he did, he’d never been this accommodating before, and in a semi-public space, least of all places. You barely believed in your eyes, but then again, the dripping sensation between your legs told no lies. This was all very much reality, and you wouldn’t let it go to waste.

“D-do that again,” you stammered. “I like it when you tease me.”

A faint chuckle followed your bashful confession, it feeding directly into his pride.

In less than a heartbeat, Takasugi complied with your demand. With his fingers squeezing lower, his mouth pressing firmer, and his tongue languidly moving across every inch of your folds, he left no spot untouched. You tried to look down, though your apron stood in the way of getting a clear view. All you saw was a head of purple peak underneath, and that certainly was not enough.

“I wanna see.”

Hands slid around your waist, his eye being the first to undress your body. One by one, the knots of your kimono and apron came undone, bringing both fabrics to simply drape over your bare figure, a sight not even he could resist.

Rather than going back down, his fingers snuck past your garment and onto your breast, trailing your hardened peak all the way to the soft curve of your skin. You smiled. After all, you loved that kind of attention from him.

Once he’d had enough, he returned to his knees, both of you having gained sufficiently better view of each other. You placed your feet atop his shoulders, prodding him to get back into business. A single finger hooked around the elastic of your underwear, with him seeking confirmation in your features. Perhaps you could get used to this compliant side of his.

“Take them off.” You instructed without hesitation, wiggling your hips to accommodate him.

The moment he rid of that final restraint, Takasugi plunged forward, his impatience showing every step of the way. If it were any other occasion, he’d have about zero qualm to push you down and take you however he pleased, but for now, you could tell he was doing his absolute best to remain tame for the sake of honoring his word.

Tentatively, he rolled his tongue outside his mouth and onto your entrance, his fingers spreading your lips for him to pepper the area with short kitten licks. You sighed, little by little feeling your clit swelling up under his touch. This was nowhere near what you’d imagined when you first walked ins that kitchen, but now, it was everything you craved.

“Give me your hand.” You asked, extending your own in his direction.

His hand found yours midway as he directed his attention to your fingers. You weren’t too sure whether he’d catch your drift or not, but it was worth a try. With your index, you traced the inside of his palm in a straight line, pressing firmly at the end of it before repeating the same gesture from the top. Not too gentle, but not too rough either. Just how you wanted to be touched.

In the same manner your finger brushed his skin, his flattened tongue came to glide over your slit only to stop short at your clit, following the same route all over again. For a second time, you sighed, your arousal gradually building with each stroke. The familiarity between you allowed no room for mistakes; he knew exactly what you needed.

“You taste better than any damn cake in this world.” Takasugi commented for the first time in a while, closing his lips over your clit.

“D-don’t insult our cake!” You felt him smirk at your objection, his teeth barely grazing over your sensitive spot, be it enough to make you moan.

“Want me to go a bit harder?” He asked, lazily swirling over your clit.

“I suppose you can.” You answered, hiding your embarrassment behind a pout. Years later and his effect on you had not worn off.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Takasugi began to follow a pattern of his own, the kind to set all your pretty sounds free. With his one hand rubbing at your thigh, he made sure you got to watch your clit disappear into his mouth, each kiss of his leaving it wetter than the previous one.

“F-fuck…”

You could feel every bump of his tongue massage your cluster of nerves, the warmth of his mouth making it feel as if he was attempting to rekindle a fire in you, one that had all but been extinguished. He wanted you to burn, just so he could burn with you. Just so you could feel every single emotion his tongue failed to describe engraved upon your body.

In no time, he had you moaning nothing but the sound of his name, occasionally no more than the sharp consonants of his initials coming out. It felt so good. Too good. He kept flicking and curling, while you kept tossing and turning, your hips squirming away while your fingers gripped closer, at his fingers, at his hair, anywhere you could find, anywhere you could anchor in.

Muffled sounds mixed in with your cries, as Takasugi kept gushing over you, his saliva and your fluids streaming down your throbbing holes. But the lewd sound of your squelching under his tongue, came only second to the far more obscene expression of his face. He looked so messed up, with his disheveled hair and bandages dropping over his forehead. So messed up that part of you couldn’t help but want to mess him up even further.

You weren’t even thinking straight anymore. Your judgment was completely clouded by primal instincts and sheer pleasure. All you knew was that you wanted him, that you’d spent every breathing moment of your life wanting and yearning for him, even when he’d always been by your side. You wanted to never let go, you wanted to become one with him. Now, and forever.

Your grip on his hair relaxed enough for you to push a loose strip of bandage that blocked his vision behind his ear. He hummed in response, his gratitude pouring in the way his hand held yours ever so lovingly. You tried your best to keep your gaze fixed on his, though the second he slid in one of his fingers, you had no choice but to fall back, your hips solely jerking forward.

You cursed again and again, until no word that made sense came out of your mouth, until the room began to spin, the bright kitchen lights and the buzzing of a bell filled in the void of your eyes. Briefly, you felt him pull out of you, his lips insisting on placing a series of tender kisses along your opening and thighs as if he were the one thanking you.

“Y/N.” The hoarse sound of your name fell on deaf ears. You were too preoccupied with your own bliss to answer him.

“Aren’t you going to get that?” He went on.

“Get… that?” Unwillingly you opened your eyes, completely clueless over what he was talking about.

The ringing had all but ceased inside your head, when you realized it had nothing to do with your orgasm. The cake!

In an instant, you flew to the other side of the kitchen, one hand attempting to piece your outfit together, while the other fumbled around the oven’s buttons. Were you a minute late, the cake would’ve gotten burnt to a crisp, and your entire struggle would’ve been over nothing.

“Couldn’t you handle it?” You protested, throwing a punch in the air as he approached you.

“Hmm? I don’t recall receiving such command.” He smirked, capturing each of your fists in his own before they got the chance to land.

“You!” You grunted and he grinned, finding your annoyed expression infinitely amusing, though perhaps, the funniest thing about this scene was the way a half-naked woman retaliated against him in the middle of a kitchen floor.

Maybe if you saw things from that perspective, you’d also be laughing, but for now, all you were was severely distracted and unsure of how to proceed. Your mind kept telling you to get things in order and finish with your cake’s assembly, while another less prim and proper part of you, kept urging you to jump his bones on the spot. Curse you, Takasugi Shinsuke and your stupidly stupid smile.

“Shall we wrap things up, or will you insist on attacking me?” He asked, his chin still glistening with your juices.

“…Get yourself cleaned up first.” You pulled your hands off him in defeat. There was no point of keeping this up.

After the two of you went back to appearing somewhat presentable, you explained how the cake needed some time to cool down, and how in the meantime, you could prepare additional toppings, such as those strawberries you’d previously located in the refrigerator.

Surprisingly enough, he seemed eager enough to assist without you having to ask. Where knives were involved, he found himself right in his element.

In no time, Takasugi made quick work of the strawberries, slicing them into smaller pieces, while all there was left for you to do was gawk at his broad shoulders. He seemed so focused, that even when you paraded back and forth, even when you forced a dry cough here and there, he paid no mind. Just what were you doing?

“What are you doing?” He read through your mind.

No answer could justify your actions. It was because of you that he’d found himself in this situation, but it was because of him that the insistent sensation between your legs wouldn’t go away. If your thoughts were that easy for him to read, then he’d know firsthand of how you felt right now.

His fingers had no reason to be busied with cutlery and fruit. They belonged around your hips, holding you down, lest you arch your back too high.

Be it against the counter, the table, the floor, or even the sink, you longed to see that familiar glint in his eye, the one he only showed when sheathed deep within your heat. You wanted the only sound in the room to be that of his husky breathing evolving to a singular growl right before he spilled in your guts.

If he could really read your mind, he’d know of all that. He’d know of how much you wanted him and how maddening that was. Screw Yato women, what were you supposed to do about your own frustration?

“You know, we’ll probably be in here a while longer.” You suggested, moving up behind him.

“And?” Amusement dripped of his voice as you rest your chin upon his shoulder.

“And we could have some more fun to ourselves.” Your arms looped around his exposed chest. “We’ve never done it in here before.”

Despite him continuously driving the knife down the cutting board, his pace had slowed down. He could act disinterested all he wanted, but his actions suggested otherwise.

“And?”

“And,” you lowered your hands round his nether area, elated to feel his hardened cock poking at your fingertips. “I can tell I’m not the only one excited by the prospect.”

“And?” He hummed, having let go of the knife.

“And I’m sick of playing games.” Your lips tugged at his earlobe, while you kept on palming him.

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to play house?”

“I was,” you admitted, “but now, I want you.”

“You grow more shameless with each year.” He accused, flaunting the kind of smirk you wanted to bite right off his lips.

“Can you blame me?”

“I guess not.”

One step was all it took for you to be pressed against the counter, the soft sensation of his mouth overriding the sharp edges of the drawers. It felt uncomfortable and rushed, but you couldn’t care less. The way his tongue wet over your bottom lip was enough to soothe the pain, enough to quell the thirst you had for him.

It’d always been like this. Every time Takasugi kissed you, you were brought back to that moonless summer night by the coastline, the place where you’d first gotten taste of each other. It felt as desperate as the sea’s foam clinging to the shore, and as certain as the promise of the incoming tide, liberating and drowning you all at once.

Deft fingers came digging at your waist, barely undoing each garment for him to ravish what was rightfully his. You helped him remove the kimono, though when it came to the apron, he didn’t allow for you to take it off. He loved the sight of you in it, but more importantly, he loved the fantasy of normality that came along, the manifestation of what your lives could have been.

Enveloped in his warm embrace, you took the opportunity to run your fingers over his skin, trailing them down his chest, his abdomen, and eventually, his crotch. He’d been in such hurry to leave that he’d neglected to wear an underwear. It was a wonder he’d never gotten arrested for public indecency, you mentally chuckled, wrapping your fingers around his shaft and then slowly pumping him.

A hand caressed your own, before moving onto your chest, drawing a tit outside the apron’s coverage. His hot breath replaced his fingers as he dipped forward, sucking your nipple right into his mouth. The sensation made your grip tighten, inducing a soft sigh to fall against your skin. He glanced at you, the green in his eye hazy while he moved higher to leave his mark, making sure that today would be more than just a memory to reminisce.

You dragged him closer, driving his cock to your slicked entrance. Playing around was nice, but definitely not as nice as being filled, a sentiment he seemed to share.

Takasugi placed his hands below your thighs, giving you little time to react when he lifted you up. You gasped, quickly knitting your fingers behind his neck to support yourself, while he held you close, shoving your hips together.

“Where to?” He rasped in between heavy breathing.

“Right here.” The second you gave your answer, you pressed your lips against his, unwilling to stray from his touch any longer.

With great care, he sat you atop the counter, his palms prompting your legs to dangle over the edge for him to position himself. You backed away ever so slightly, keen on watching his thumb continuously swipe over the head and your clit up until he allowed your lips to swallow him. You bit a moan back and he smiled, slowly pushing deeper, replacing your neediness with ecstatic pleasure.

“This is much better than Master Sword 69.” You jested, forcing him to shush you with his mouth, lest he let himself laugh at such a horrid joke.

You felt his tongue roll around yours in sync with his hips, the firm sensation of his pubic bone pressuring your clit whenever he slammed his cock inside. You moaned, nibbling at his lips while he grunted, digging his fingers at your hips to push you further against his thrusts. You loved it when he handled you like that, though you both knew he wouldn’t last much at this pace.

Eventually he slowed down, resorting to merely sheathing himself within your folds. He was already throbbing, his seed begging to spill inside your womb. You rocked your hips a tiny bit and he pulled away halfway before sinking back in, unable to truly part from you. Panted breaths mixed in with soft chuckles, the two of you finding great amusement in how naturally your bodies were drawn together, palpitating with desire.

“I can’t believe I’m yours.” You breathed, ghosting your lips over his. “Even after all these years, I can’t believe I was fortunate enough to have met you.”

“Hopefully you got your money’s worth.” He smirked.

“You make it sound as if you are a prostitute.”

Takasugi rolled his eye, returning his attention to your lower half. Even when he was balls deep inside, you couldn’t help but poke fun at him. Getting on his nerves never got old.

Faster than before, his hips snapped against yours, as if he was trying to fuck you into becoming less of a vixen. You paid no mind to that, fully enjoying the way his cock rammed in your sweet spot, until all of a sudden, sharp pain had you yelping. He stopped, a look of concern spreading to his features while you rubbed at the back of your skull. He’d gone so hard that you’d banged your head against the cabinet.

“So clumsy.” He mumbled, guising his mistake as yours.

You were about to complain when he started moving again, only this time, rather than feeling the cold metal boring into your head, you only felt the softness of his palm shielding you from harm.

“Shut up.” He hushed before you had the chance to say a single word.

Not that you really could, either. With how hard he pounded you, the only sounds you could make were whimpers, little by little being driven over the edge.

Stars still flickered past your shut eyelids as you used your last bit of energy to embrace him, propping your chin upon your arm. His hands searched for support against the counter while he began to fall out of rhythm, his thrusts leading to him cumming deep within your walls.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He was still throbbing as he said those three little words, words you never knew how much you longed to hear.

All these birthdays had gone by without a single gift or wish, but even if you could receive any gift, even if you could make any wish, you’d still choose him, you’d still wish for only him. In the end, all those forgotten gifts and wishes amounted to nothing. What was most important to you was right there in your arms. The most precious thing in life, your partner, your lover, your…family.

“Can you keep being my gift?” You asked, nuzzling in his shoulder. “Next year, and the year after that, can I keep asking for you?”

Takasugi spared no answer. Not because he didn’t want to, but because part of him knew there was always a possibility that the very first birthday you’d spent together might as well be the last he’d ever get to celebrate with you. And so he said nothing, choosing to splay his hands over your lower back in a tender motion.

“I don’t want anything other than you. There’s no one else I’d rather share such moments with, so can you please keep on being my present?” You insisted, demanding for a lie he was not too keen on giving.

A sigh heaved up his chest as he slowly moved away from you. “Quit being this mushy.” He mumbled, turning around.

Part of his cum poured down your thighs as you propped yourself against the counter.

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. Maybe you shouldn’t make him commit to a promise he’d be unable to honor, but then again you had a hard time holding back when you loved him this much. The mere idea of spending a birthday on your own gave you goosebumps. It had to be with him. No matter what, he had to be there.

Takasugi returned a minute later with a couple of paper towels in hand. He took in your sour expression, realizing you probably took this short time to reflect upon the future, one you weren’t guaranteed to share.

“You’re such a mess.” He sank to his knees, gently cleaning after the mess he made between your legs.

“As long as I can help it, I promise.”

Following the rather eventful time you spent inside the kitchen, you’d made sure not to leave any traces of your little adventure behind, while he’d made sure to remind you of how easy it’d been for him to claim the key. You didn’t even notice he’d taken it from you until it was time to head out. That sly piece of…

But, you couldn’t complain. Not about his mocking, and not about his refusal to help clean either. The cake turned to be a great success, both in taste and appearance, and you could now finally reap your rewards in the comfort of his bedroom. Bit by bit the platter emptied with only about half the dessert remaining. You hadn’t eaten a single thing all day long, and the unscheduled ‘work-out’ had taken its toll on your poor legs.

Once the two of you finished eating, Takasugi brought forth his shamisen to tune it, while you fished out a piece of paper and a pen to write Sakamoto a letter. There was so much you wanted to tell him. About your trips, the Kiheitai, and of course, about Takasugi.

Outside your letters, Sakamoto never got to hear a word about or from his old friend. You’d seen Takasugi scribble some words, but they never reached his ears. All were torn into confetti.

You knew how much he missed the past. How deep his longing to meet with his friends again ran within his heart and how hard it was for him to express his innermost feelings. You knew all that, and although there was nothing you could do in order to help bridge the gap, letting Sakamoto know of his friend’s well-being wouldn’t harm. Behind his back, or not.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked without lifting head from his instrument.

“Nothing in particular. Just disproving some false claims.” You hid a dry cough behind your fist as you begun to read. “Dear Tatsuma, all’s well here, thanks for asking. I hope your business keeps expanding and you don’t get thrown out in space by Mutsu again. Your gift brought me great joy, but don’t assume I’ll let you win that easily. P.S. Don’t underestimate Shinsuke. He is an incredible lover and really great at-”

Before you could finish reading the supposed letter, Takasugi grabbed it from within your grasp, only to scoff at the lack of ink.

“You are incorrigible” He returned the paper to the table while you chuckled, earning yourself another of his infamous glares.

Rather than picking up the pen, you opted for the spoon, digging back in the remaining piece you’d left in your plate. “It’s true though. You really are an incredible lover and great at cooking.” You swallowed. “You know, it’s not too late to change career, Shinsuke.”

He shrugged, tightening and then striking one of the strings. “I’ll consider leaving the world with just a stove.”

“So what did you think of today? What was it like to make something from scratch?”

“Harder than watching Zura make onigiri.”

You laughed and he smiled just a little bit, the sound of his playing as mellow as his features.

“You’d rather just sit back and watch?”

He nodded, first setting his tuner and then his shamisen to the side. An invitation for you to scoot closer, one that you gracefully accepted by laying your head against his shoulder. For someone who lifted such a heavy burden, he surely felt lightweight as a pillow.

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind seeing you in an apron more often.” Takasugi said, picking up his own plate. He was never big on sweets, but he’d at the very least eaten half of what you’d served.

“Makes you resemble a proper housewife.” He smirked after shoving a bite.

“Calling me a housewife when you haven’t even put a ring on my finger.”

Your joke failed to land any chuckles apart from your own. If anything, it had the opposite effect on him, with his expression instantly turning sour.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that-”

“Except you did.” He sighed, dropping the plate along with the spoon back on the table, while you sat up to look at him.

“Y/N, I’ve halfed-assed many things in life, us included. Years later, and I still don’t know how to do this properly. But what I do know is that when we share a bed together, when we share what little’s left of our souls with one another, when we share a life, then that makes us as good as married, does it not?”

At the sound of his words, you felt your cheeks radiating with heat. How could he speak in such nonchalant way? He’d never called you so much as a girlfriend or a partner, and now went around addressing you as a wife? His wife?

“What? Scared to be called a terrorist’s wife?” Takasugi taunted.

“Terrorist? What terrorist?” You brought a hand onto your forehead, pretending to look around. “I see nothing but a samurai, and that would make me into a samurai’s wife.”

Your answer seemed to satisfy him enough to crack a smile, one that you eagerly returned.

“An idiot, a terrorist, and a samurai. I’ve been called all three in just one day.” He absently trailed over your fingers with his own.

“Only an idiotic samurai could ever turn to terrorism. To me, Shinsuke, you are the same boy I met back then. The one who’s unafraid to raise his sword in the name of a lost cause.”

You meant to assure him, but he only ended up snickering in amusement.

“I really haven’t changed, have I?”

“Not at all.” You expressed with a nod of your head. “But If I may say so myself, you’ve gotten a tad grumpier. It’s as if your grumpiness increases with each passing year.”

His amusement turned to irritation in a moment’s notice, though that did not dishearten you from making further comments. It was always amusing to see how far his tolerance would reach, but when he finally boiled over, your sounds turned muffled.

“Shut up and eat the damn cake already.” Takasugi huffed, having shoved a spoonful of cake in between your parted lips.

Once he felt you swallowing, he pulled his hand away, only for your mouth to follow it, seeking to be fed again. He glared and you insisted, drawing out a long ‘A’ sound until he caved in.

“Such a lousy wife.”

The next morning found you alone in bed, with Takasugi having seemingly disappeared from your side. This was hardly unlike him. Come morning light, he always had this tendency of running off with Bansai, handling the kind of issues you failed to wrap your head around. Can’t be helped.

Your eyes shut once more, refusing to open up just yet. It was so early and there was nothing for you to do, other than to spend another dull day in space. Or at least, that’s what you thought until you stretched your hand onto the pillow beside you, your fingers meeting with the cold roundness of a foreign object; a ring of gold.

“Such a lousy husband.” You exclaimed with a smile brighter than the sun itself.

#takasugi x reader #takasugi shinsuke x reader #takasugi shinsuke oneshot #takasugi shinsuke fanfiction #takasugi #takasugi smut #gintama #gintama smut #gintama fanfiction #gintama oneshot #ginama imagine #takasugi imagine #takasugi reader #takasugi gintama #takasugi shinsuke

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seokmingiggles · 4 years

Text

on cerulean tides.

Anon requested on 201219: "Would you do an idol!Kim Namjoon one shot where the reader (non-idol) is best friends with the Maknaes and believes there's no way Namjoon would ever like her so she begins to avoid him whenever she hangs out with the Maknaes at the dorms/studio/dance practice to try to get over him and Joon picks up on it and thinks he did something wrong/is sad since he thinks he stands no chance with her until the Maknaes force them to realize they return each other's feelings? Thank you in advance!"

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader

Genre: angst to fluff, idol!au, non-idol!reader, happy ending.

3.04k words

Warnings: heavy feelings of inferiority and insecurity, self-doubt, an incredibly brief mention of alcohol consumption, a dragged out metaphor about the sea.

With the ocean of uncertainty plaguing you, you've been avoiding the boy your heart yearns for, not knowing just how much your distance has been impacting him too. Alternatively, Namjoon is your beacon to guide you through the stormy feelings of self-doubt that you've been struggling with lately.

A/N: Thank you for your request! I probably made this much angstier than you intended, but I promise a fluffy ending awaits you. I hope it's okay! (I promise it’s not some pirate!au with a title like this lmao)

This one is dedicated to anyone who feels doubtful of themself. I wish that one day you will be able to see what an astonishing and beautiful being you are. All of us have insecurities about ourselves—big or small—but letting those criticisms consume you is unhealthy and prevents you from living your life to the fullest. Please reach out to talk to someone you trust if these feelings become overwhelming. Things will get better. Please take care of yourself!

•• You and Jimin laughed as you ran down the hallway, each of you with a bag of food in your arms. You could hear Taehyung and Jungkook scampering behind you, the former being noisy as he chased after you, Jungkook only had slightly more grace as he moved.

Being close with the maknae line of BTS had its perks. You could visit them in the studio if they called for you, you could have movie nights at their dorm on their off days, and above all, you could goof around to lift your spirits. You had boundaries; you knew when to leave them be during the busier periods of their schedules and how you couldn't post anything about them online. You didn't mind, though. Your friendship was more than enough.

You were a high school classmate of Jungkook's a few years back, although the two of you never spoke much during those first couple of years. It was only after his group's debut where the boy found himself in need of a tutor, and the school recommended a few to him. Yours was the only name on the list that Jungkook recognized, so it was an easy decision for him to make. Once you and your classmate graduated high school, Jungkook was no longer in need of a tutor, but he wanted to maintain your friendship as he didn't have many others he was close to in your graduating class. Slowly but surely, you also became friends with Taehyung and Jimin when visiting Jungkook over the years. Now, the four of you were practically inseparable. While the boys wouldn't tell you to your face, they all admired you because you never once treated them differently despite their status as idols, especially as their public popularity increased over time.

Jimin reached the vacant studio room before you, holding the door open to let you inside before shouting back at his friends, "You two better hurry up or else (Y/N)-ah and I will eat all the food!"

"Oh, I believe it!" Taehyung cupped his mouth as he yelled back, being pulled by the younger boy at his wrist.

Soon enough, Jungkook and Taehyung made it to the room before Jimin could lock them out. This whole ordeal began when Taehyung needed to use the bathroom after you all had entered the BigHit building. Jungkook went with him, leaving you and Jimin with the lunch he'd ordered.

"All that running from you guys worked up my appetite," you declared as you removed the assortment of containers from one of the bags.

"Well, all that chasing worked up mine," Taehyung countered, teasingly sneering at you and Jimin, the latter already breaking apart his disposable chopsticks.

The four of you began to devour your meal. The three boys were in the middle of a busy working day and invited you to join them for their lunch break. It wasn't an uncommon request; you'd see the trio at least once a week, sometimes more if their schedules cooperated.

Some playful banter with full mouths and filling tummies later, you were sitting back in your chair as you watched Jungkook finish the last of the japchae when someone knocked on the studio door.

After Jungkook managed a "Come in," with his cheeks full of noodles, it was Namjoon's head that poked through the doorway.

"I just want to remind you three that you'll be needed for our meeting in fifteen minutes," the group leader said, eyeing the now-emptied remnants of the lunch you enjoyed. "Hi, (Y/N)."

"Hi, Namjoon." You matched his monotonous tone, maintaining difficult eye contact as he shut the door behind him.

"Okay, whatever is going on between you two needs to stop," Jimin sighed out, visibly frustrated. "You used to get along so well with hyung, and now it's so awkward seeing you interact."

Taehyung sat up straighter, "I agree. You two have so much in common. It's sad to see you so distant now."

Jimin and Taehyung were right. You and Namjoon had to do a lot of scheduling together back when you were Jungkook's tutor, so he was the first one you'd gotten to know in the band, other than your former classmate. The two of you shared a similar mindset: you were both compassionate, responsible, and—arguably above all else—incredibly bad at sharing your feelings.

You wished you could determine the exact moment you began to develop feelings for Namjoon. Maybe it was something about his warm smile; maybe it was his cheery laugh. Or perhaps the way he so intently listened to what the others had to say and would consider ideas other than his own. You not once ever doubted his ability as a leader. You've known the boys since their debut, and even back then, you found Namjoon fit for his role; he's only become better at his job in the passing years.

Yet, something about him made you doubt your ability to be his equal. Part of you knew it was silly to begin avoiding Namjoon in the first place, but the other part of you couldn't bear to suffocate with those annoying butterflies swarming every time your gaze met his. Even from across a room, Namjoon had a powerful effect on you. Part of you wanted his impact on you to stop; part of you missed his closeness.

"Jungkook, you're being awfully quiet," Jimin exchanged a look with Taehyung, "Do you know something that we don't?"

Your head snapped up in Jungkook's direction, silently begging for the boy to deny their assumption.

The youngest hummed and grabbed a water bottle, twisting the cap off and taking a sip. He swished the water around in his mouth.

"Don't make me squish your cheeks to spit out that water, Jeon."

Jungkook swallowed. He glanced at you for confirmation, although instead, took in your tired appearance. He brought it upon himself to make your exhaustion stop.

"(Y/N)-ie likes Namjoon."

You sighed at hearing those words aloud. You couldn't even be mad at your friend; the only way he found out about your feelings was over some drinks one night where you were rambling about how pretty you thought Namjoon looked earlier that day. In hindsight, maybe it wasn't a good idea to tell your crush's bandmate that you liked him.

Jimin shifted in his seat, "Okay, and...? Don't tell me you thought we didn't already know, (Y/N)-ie."

"Yeah, it was obvious when you'd become flustered around hyung!" Taehyung added, "But after you began avoiding him I figured something had changed."

You fiddled with the cap of your water bottle. "Does he know?"

"Namjoon? No, there's no way. He's about as clueless as you are when it comes to crushes." Jimin pondered then continued, "Maybe we could talk to him about it-"

"Absolutely not."

"But why not (Y/N)? It's painful for us to watch the two of you interact lately; it must be worse for you guys."

"I don't want him to know."

"That's not a good reason-"

"It's good enough for me. Now please, can we just forget about it? Don't you guys have a meeting to get to?" You felt bad for shutting down their request. After all, they were only trying to help you.

The boys began to stand, collecting the bags and containers scattered on the floor. They were visibly defeated, but they respected your plead.

Jimin stood by you before turning to the door, "Okay, if that's what you wish, we won't tell him. I do think you should, though, (Y/N). Maybe the results will be in your favour."

•

You felt numb as you were on the bus heading back to your apartment. You tried to escape from your thoughts about the boy you were so fond of, yet your mind defeatedly wandered its way back to him no matter how hard you tried. It pained you to see Namjoon's behaviour shift with yours as you began to avoid him throughout the past month. You didn't realize how severe it had become until your friends pointed it out to you. You thought the distance you created would help alleviate the pounding sensation in your chest and clammy palms associated with Namjoon's presence. You never thought that one day you'd prefer your racing heart to the emptiness you feel now.

He's too good for me, you kept convincing yourself until it was all that you believed.

He couldn't love someone like me.

You have struggled with self-compassion throughout your life thus far. Feelings of gratitude coming in inconsistent waves like the unpredictable ocean tides. You were stormier lately—lost in the sea of doubt and floundering to find stability on shore again.

Namjoon used to be your lifeboat. He taught you that appreciating oneself is necessary to become genuinely happy. He even wrote lyrics about the phenomenon. He made it sound so simple, so achievable. Yet, the theory is typically easier than the practice. Wind and rain continued to pelt down at you, thrashing the waves beneath your surface and making it difficult to breathe.

You wanted to change your mentality; you wanted to be more confident. But constantly comparing yourself to others is equivalent to drowning in the murky ocean, the depths sucking you further and further below until not a trace of sunlight remains.

You made it back to your apartment safely in one piece. You were mentally exhausted and drained at all of your overthinking. You felt the need to cry out of frustration.

"Remember to breathe when you're feeling like this. Come on, just slow, deep breaths."

Namjoon's voice resounded in your head from a few months back when you overheard him calming Taehyung down in a neighbouring room.

You missed hearing his voice.

It was an unmistakable desire. You missed the way he'd look at you with utmost attention and care when you'd speak with him. You missed the way he'd give his thoughtful advice. You missed his smile, his laughter; you missed him. You longed to be back in Namjoon's presence. He always knew what to do or say to help calm the storm. He was a lighthouse beckoning you back safely to shore.

You were getting tired of avoiding him.

But you were also getting tired.

Padding your way to your bed, you slipped into comfy loungewear and got beneath your covers. You momentarily stared up at the ceiling before closing your eyes.

"Come on, just slow, deep breaths."

•

Your ringing phone was what awoke you. It could have been minutes or hours later; you weren't sure. You reluctantly pushed yourself out of your blanketed fortress and made your way to the kitchen counter where you left the device. It was still light outside, but you could see the sun beginning to approach the horizon line.

"Hello?" You said, cursing in your head for the way your groggy voice sounded.

"Hi, (Y/N). It's been a while. Could we talk?"

You froze, being doused by the icy sea.

"Um..." you hesitated. You were caught off guard in a place that was supposed to be your retreat, by a person who was supposed to be your oasis.

"Deep breaths."

"Yeah, I-I guess we could talk."

"Great. Would it be okay if I came to you? I'm almost done here in the studio, maybe another thirty minutes before I can head out."

You were nodding your head before you verbalized your agreement.

"Okay. I'll see you soon, (Y/N)."

"See you, Namjoon."

You hung up first and set your phone back onto the kitchen counter, your elbows following shortly after so you could place your face in your hands.

You knew this was coming; Namjoon was a responsible young adult. There was no way he could have missed your change in behaviour around him as much as you wished for otherwise.

•

Thirty minutes went by faster than you wished. The sharp knock on your door startled you as you were washing some dishes in the kitchen. Cleaning when stressed wasn't an unusual habit of yours.

You hesitated, grabbing a tea towel to dry your hands before treading carefully to the door.

"Deep breaths."

You removed the chain and carefully opened the door. You knew Namjoon was waiting for you on the other side, yet your breath still hitched as your eyes wandered upwards to meet his.

"Come in," you forced from your lips and stepped to the side to let your guest past.

Namjoon thanked you as he slipped his shoes off and made his way to your sofa, declining your offer of a drink.

You joined him shortly after, keeping him more than an arms-length away.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?"

"Deep breaths."

"Did Jimin mention anything to you?" You could tell your voice sounded weak, but you had other pressing concerns.

"Nothing elaborate. All I was told by him and Taehyung was that I should try talking to you. They didn't say why, but I think we both know."

You searched his face for any signs of dishonesty but found none. "Nothing's wrong-"

"Please," he pushed, "I'd like to think I know you well enough over the years. Something is wrong. I should have come here sooner. You know you can trust me." He even bared a small smile after his words.

It only made your heart plummet further into the depths: a watery grave with your name written on it.

"You're just..." you sighed out, already feeling tears prickling at your eyes. "You're really... just... good. I hope you know how good of a person you are, Namjoon. I don't know how else to explain it. You're a good person. No, that's an understatement. You're... it sometimes doesn't feel like you're real, you know? You're just so giving and considerate and so aware of others' wellbeing." You failed to hold back your emotions; a tear slid down your cheek. "You're good."

And proving your point, Namjoon slid closer to you on the couch so he could take your hand in his.

"Sometimes I feel so insignificant," you continued, "like I'm nobody special or that I'm not doing anything important or worthwhile; that I'm not enough. It's like I'm stuck on the bottom of the ocean. I'm not drowning, but I'm able to see the world passing by above me."

Namjoon said nothing for a moment and just absorbed your thoughts as he mindlessly brushed his thumb across the back of your hand. "There are times in everyone's' life where we all feel that way. You can only tread water for so long before you exhaust yourself and begin to sink. I've felt that way, too—stuck, insignificant. If I'm being blunt, part of my desire to change my mindset was because of you, (Y/N). When I first met you as Jungkook's tutor, you seemed so knowledgable, responsible; you had a good head on your shoulders. You were good. Part of you reminded me of myself, yet part of me also felt intimidated by you." Namjoon stopped momentarily to smile at your astonished face as you mouthed 'intimidated?'. "Yes, intimidated. I've admired you since day one. Then slowly, I realized that those feelings became more than just a simple admiration. But I held back saying anything because I didn't feel worthy of you. I let my own self-doubt get in the way."

"I'm the one not worthy of you, 'Joon."

"Please, love, nothing about that is true," the boy's voice became so tender as he brought his free hand to the side of your face. "One day, I'll show you just how incredible you are to me," he swiped his thumb to collect a stray tear, "but right now, I think you're more in need of a tissue and a hug."

A small, breathy laugh fell from your lips as you accepted the tissue Namjoon retrieved for you. After effectively wiping away your salty tears, you gladly situated yourself in his outstretched arms, being held in a tight embrace. The two of you remained like that until your breathing gradually calmed down, then you moved so you were lying against him with your back to his chest. His nose lightly nuzzled the top of your head.

"All of us have a bit of the ocean inside of us," Namjoon continued, delicately grazing his thumb around the curved corner of your eye, "it means you have the power to control the waves to some extent. The sea can be unpredictable, but so is life. It takes practice to learn to control your waves. I know you may not believe in yourself now, but please, (Y/N), believe me when I tell you that you're enough. You're more than enough."

•

Namjoon stayed with you for the rest of the evening to make sure your spirits were lifted even the slightest bit. The distance that grew between you was from a mutual error; you came to understand your similar sides to the story as you continued to talk. The whole ordeal made you realize that you're not alone in your insecurities. Even someone you suspected to be flawless had doubts of their own.

You were situated back in your bed after Namjoon had left minutes ago. He wished you a good night and pleasant dreams, topping off his adieu with a quick peck to your cheek. You relished in the feeling of your butterflies returning, no longer letting them suffocate you, instead, embracing them in their colourful magnificence.

You recalled what Namjoon said earlier to you:

"You know, what you said about the ocean, it can be beautiful too. Yes, it's scary when you're alone and trapped at the bottom beneath the waves in the dark, but the thing about the sea is that it's continuously moving and shifting. Like our lives, tides come in highs and lows and can change from day-to-day, hour-to-hour. It's unfair to assume we can always remain floating on the surface; when that happens, you can't go anywhere yourself. You need to be partially submerged to move and make choices.

Why don't we traverse this sea together? We can help guide each other until we've found our shore again."

Namjoon was your lighthouse; you were the moon guiding his tides.

••

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yandere-sins · 4 years

Note

The denki ghost anon inspired me to do this khgjgjc so one time i was running for cross country and i tried doing the "pretend you're being chased" so I thought "ok I'll pretend a yan Bakugou is chasing me" so i did that and in short, shit got real, i cried. Any way you would wish to interpret this into something? If not i understand lmao

I sure would like to interpret this!! You and ghost anon are really interesting requesters!!! Big brain requesters even! I love this, but please don’t imagine him chasing after you the next time you go for a run xD Thanks for requesting!

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Panting, you cut the corner, pressing yourself against the cold, brick wall of the building casting a shadow over you. You were out, you made it. But what now. Think, you thought. Think about what to do next. Find a place to hide, wait for him to pass, find someone to help you while he lost your track.

It wasn’t a spectacular plan, but at least in your head, it made sense. As you heard the menacing footsteps approaching, you turned your back to where you had come from, racing down the dark alleyway as fast as you could. You tried to keep your mind focused as your thoughts drifted off to a cinematic of you being chased by your murderer in the horror movie you thought you were starring at. The momentum was too great as you reached the end of the alleyway, your hands outstretched as you caught yourself on the wall, scraping your cheek but quickly looking left and right to see where to go.

On your left, the streetlight at the end of the sideway invited you to come, and you didn’t think twice as you ran towards it, hoping to finally reach a more crowded area, but you were out of luck, another empty street spreading out on both sides. Making decision was hard, but the chuckle behind you didn’t give you a moment to freeze now.

So you decided to go street upwards, turning right. In a maze, keeping your right hand along the wall was going to get you out, right? So maybe, this would be your lucky charm here too. You felt the exhaustion all over your body, the air thinning as you kept up a speedy pace. When would you finally meet someone? Someone who’d help and defend you from your attacker. It couldn’t be that you were the only person out here on the streets, there had to be someone else. It wasn’t even that late, right?

“[Name],” did it call out from behind you. He was just as tired as you were, that’s how he sounded.

You shouldn’t have, but you spared a glance behind, seeing his blonde spikes of hair in your field of view. He was coming, and he was faster than you. You hurried, urged by his approach. The open street didn’t give you a place to hide and no time to rest. It was where he could see you, and you could see him. Prey and hunter, and you didn’t have the favorable spot in this.

“[Name], hey,” you heard even louder this time, and you flinched to the side, ramming your shoulder into a wall from shock. He wasn’t there yet, but he was close, so unbelievably close. With Bakugou’s better physic, his endless training, the simple reason that he was allowed to go out and move as he wished, he was in better condition than you in every aspect. Never should you have thought you could outrun the monster he was, you could be happy he hadn’t used his explosion yet. Otherwise, he would have caught you already for sure.

But you had no time to think about why he hadn’t used them yet. If you gave up now, and slowed down, it would have been all in vain. All the energy put into running away from him, on escaping his clutches would have been for nothing. You’d never get another chance like this, that much was certain. Freedom was so close you could taste it if only you could find some other soul in the darkness of the night. “H-Help!” you pushed out past the lack of air in your lungs. You had to voice your distress if no one was going to come on their own, even if it didn’t come out as loud as you wished it would.

But someone had to hear it, right? All those houses, they couldn’t be unoccupied, and someone would see him chasing you when they listened to your cries! Desperately, you tried to convince yourself that help would come if only you tried enough, your screams becoming frantic as you tried it again, and again-

The sudden shake on your shoulder made your voice cut off in your throat immediately, your heart sinking to rock bottom as your eyes widened. You wanted to swing around, hit him as hard as you could, but you lost your steady footing from the tug, falling before you could dodge him.

He caught you in mid-air, his arm snaking around your waist, fingers digging roughly into your side. “Gotcha,” he smirked, and you stared into his face, stunned. Bakugou was the most self-centered asshole you ever knew, he would grin wildly whenever he got praised or got to hunt down a villain. But you had never seen this look of absolute victory on his face, shadows falling over everything except his wide grin and open eyes that were fixated on your fearful expression reflected in them.

You could feel how he took control of your body as you plummeted to the ground, your ears ringing as your head hit the asphalt. With him on top, you were rendered immobilized while Bakugou licked his lips as if you were an especially delicious meal he was about to devour. The last thing you remembered before blacking out was him laughing in your face, taunting you for loosing to him, before you heard him say your name loudly, everything fading to more darkness.

“For fucks sake! [Name], wake the fuck up!”

Groggily, you felt yourself be slammed into the mattress again as he shook you awake, eyes opening very slowly while the light from the bedlamp blinded you. “W-What...” you muttered, expecting nothing less but an angry answer from him.

“What ‘What’?! You are the one screaming bloody murder here in your sleep, crying for help, and no matter what you do, you wouldn’t react to me calling your name! So what’s going on, you tell me!”

Katsuki was hovering over you, seemingly having tried to wake you with everything he could. Behind the anger in his gaze, you could see worry, and also exhaustion, and turning your head, you saw it was only half past four in the morning, still early.

“I... I had a bad dream...” you muttered, wondering how you could have made such a ruckus. You barely remembered what happened, but the sweat on your forehead and heavy breathing conveyed the feelings of fear and urgency you must have felt as you had dreamed.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered as he finally got off you, angrily turning off the lamp. “Sorry--” you started, hoping to apologize for causing him such inconveniences. After all, he was so busy with his hero work and needed this sleep desperately, which you were ruining for him. “Safe it. You better dreamed of me; otherwise, you know what’s coming.”

“E-Even if it was a bad dream?” you stuttered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at his side, even though his back was turned to you, posing no threat to you at the moment. You knew telling him you didn’t remember wouldn’t suffice. It was Katsuki’s dream to be your number one after all.

“Of fucking course, you should only dream of me, no matter what.”

Maybe, you thought. Maybe it was a dream about him.

It wasn’t always easy, being his partner. He could be awfully moody, despite you knowing he loved you. But days - or nights, respectively - like this made you feel terrible about your relationship, and you wished you could flee from it somehow.

But that wasn’t going to happen. Katsuki wouldn’t just let you go, he’d fight for your ‘relationship’ after all. And how else would you do it, run away, and hope to not have him chase you anymore at some point? As if you could do that, he’d be caught up with you in no time.

So you simply turned around, leaving this question for another day, and instead wondered why you had such a headache all of a sudden. Bringing your hand up to your head, you felt the pain intensify as you touched it, warm wet transferring onto your fingers.

“Sleep,” he demanded before you could even make out what you had just gotten on your hand, not knowing it was blood dripping from a fresh injury.

Next you knew, you struggled for air, as your pillow got pulled out from under your head and pushed into your face. He didn’t need you to be aware of what had occurred that night, it being a bad dream being sufficient as an explanation. And now that he knew you were alive after he knocked you out, it was time for you to really sleep for a change and forget about your pitiful try to escape forever.

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sunsetcurbed · 4 years

Text

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie Words: 6,587 Rating: T Chapter Warnings: none Chapter: 10/11 read on AO3

Chapter Summary: “Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

(*)

Alex is not going to be Prince.

He’s not sure why he said he was going to be in the first place because clearly it’s an absolutely ludicrous idea. Alex is barely a functioning human, he can’t be a prince!

He’s pacing his room, keeping his eyes averted from the charcoal grey suit that’s laid out on his bed. He’d just taken it out of its garment bag and it has been taunting him, as if saying this is your future, you don’t belong. And he doesn’t belong, does he? The suit is like nothing he’s ever worn, not even for the dinner a few weeks ago, and if he chooses to become prince this suit would just be the first of many, and—it’s too good for him. He’s not good enough for it. He’s not good enough to be Prince.

He looks at the clock. His driver is supposed to be here to get him in six minutes, but Alex hasn’t even started to get dressed. His family has already left for the Ball, and he’s got no idea what to do.

He might not be having these thoughts if it weren’t for his surprise visitor a few minutes ago, but then again, he might have ended up here no matter what. But, really, how else was he supposed to react after Caleb Covington shows up at his door and completely runs his spirit into the ground? His decision was already standing on pretty shaky legs this morning once he’d woken up, the high from last night gone. By the time he’d taken his anxiety medications, eaten breakfast, showered, and helped his family get ready he was already starting to doubt himself. He was planning a back up speech in his mind. And then—

“Alexander,” Caleb said from the front of his porch, leaning against one of the beams. Alex’s family had just left minutes before, so he was left to face Caleb alone. “How nice to see you.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “it must be, considering you drove out of your way to come find me. What are you doing here?”

“Such insolence. I’m just here to congratulate you on your big night. Not everyone gets to speak at the Beasigan consulate. You’ll be up there addressing hundreds of people from all around the world; quite the feat for a sixteen year old with almost no formal training.” There was a glint in Caleb’s eye, as if he had known about Alex’s anxiety, knew that Alex’s stomach was flipping as soon as ‘hundreds of people’ left Caleb’s lips. “I just wanted to stop by and ask—“

Alex shook his head. “No,” he said, willing his stomach to settle. “No—okay, I know what you’ve been doing. Chasing down Willie, stalking him to get a read on me. It’s not going to work. You can’t make me do anything.” Caleb stares him down. Alex feels himself bending, as if he’d just disrespected a superior, but he doesn’t crack, doesn’t break.

“Stalking? Please. I just wanted to get to know William,” Caleb said. “He seemed to love skating the streets of Hollywood so much it wasn’t hard to find him. I just thought, as Speaker of the House of Crane, I should be working to get to know our possible future Prince Consort. After all, he’d be around the palace a lot. What with his… duties. Counseling you and charities. He seems the just the type for that, your William.”

Alex didn’t think too much on that in the moment, just crossed his arms and sighed. “My driver is going to be here in thirty minutes. I’ve got to finish getting ready.”

“I won’t keep you. But. The Beasigan people are strong and united,” Caleb hummed, looking down at his nails, studying them as if he’d been looking for any flaws that he might have to file or buff out before the ball that night. “They can be a bit… skeptical… of outsiders. So don’t let that get to you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Really? As I recall, you’re the one who wanted to prevent outsiders from having a place in our country, not the people. And you were stopped. I’ve been nothing but welcomed by everyone I’ve met.”

“And you’ve met how many people?” he asked with a flat voice. “Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Do they speak for our sixty thousand? They’re diplomats, they’re programmed to be polite, being diplomatic is quite literally in their name.” He shoved off the column and walked towards Alex. “But! I’m not here to try to intimidate you, no. I’m here to wish you all the best! Whatever you decide. Truly, Alexander. I just implore you to think.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing since my grandmother showed up in my life?” Alex shot back.

Caleb huffed a laugh. “That’s right.” He turns to leave, and then pauses. “Funny thing about ruling a country—no one really knows what it’s like until they’ve been in that position. Even I don’t know what it’s like. I have experience in Parliament—and you have experience in… Well.” He tilted his head to the side and offered Alex a smile. “But you know what it’s like living a normal life. Your band, your friends, your boyfriend, all without the stress of…” He put his fingers together. “But I suppose you’re right. You have been thinking about it since Queen Louisa entered your life. And I’m sure you’ve considered all the angles, all the benefits and especially the repercussions. You must have had plenty of time to do that, I imagine. After all, you’ve had a month and a half—why, that’s practically a lifetime to consider this. It’s not like you’ve only been given a week or two to make this decision.”

Alex tightened his arms around his chest. “Mr. Covington—“

“Caleb, please.”

“Caleb, I really must be getting ready. I will see you at the ball, all right?”

Caleb nodded. “Of course. You must excuse me, sometimes I forget myself.”

“It’s no worry,” Alex said, even though he could have been rude because no one but himself and Caleb were around. Manners were so deeply ingrained in him by that point that it just… happened.

“Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

Willie, wonderful Willie, calls within two minutes.

“Hello?” Alex answers.

“What happened?” Willie asks.

Alex sucks in a breath that gets caught in his throat. It turns into a sob. “Why did I think I could do this? I’m not—I’m not cut out for this. I wasn’t born to be a prince. I don’t know why I said I would be in the first place, that—that’s so stupid, Willie, do you realize how stupid that is?”

“No,” Willie says, and then, away from the speaker, thanks someone. Alex hears a car door slam and an engine start. “No, I don’t Alex, because I think it’s a great idea.”

“Where’s the great idea?”

Willie hums. “Hidden behind a wall of anxiety.”

“Oh, cute,” Alex scoffs. “Anxiety saves lives, you know. There are times when your body is telling you something is wrong because it is.”

“Anxiety also keeps lives from being lived. Your body isn’t telling you this is wrong, your body is telling you this is dangerous. And you believe it. You didn’t believe it last night when you weren’t anxious, Alex, and that tells me that you want to do this.”

“I want to do this?” Alex scoffs. “Willie, you don’t even know what you want to do with your life and you’ve got it so much more figured out than I do. And here I am deciding to sign my life away at sixteen to a country that I’ve never been to. A country that could choose to reject me at first sight. A country that I knew nothing about a month and a half ago.”

“A country that you love,” Willie reminds him.

“How can I love it when I’ve only known it for a month?”

“Because you’ve met its queen, and you love her heart and her hopes for the future. Because you’ve met its Prime Minister and you love his ideas and his plans for the future. Because you’ve seen its people and you love them—for all that they stand for and all that they are, and because they are good people and they deserve a good leader, and that’s what you will be.”

Alex doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. He does love Beasiga, but it feels impossible that he does even with all the reasons that Willie just explained. He’s never even been there. Los Angeles is all Alex has known and Beasiga is 1.5% of Los Angeles’ population and Los Angeles is nearly three and half times the size of Beasiga. And Alex likes Los Angeles because it’s easy to disappear and everyone is so busy they don’t have time to notice you. Alex has only experienced Beasiga through stories and media, but he knows it’s not like Los Angeles over there. People say hi when they pass you on the street, they help you if you’re struggling to carry something too heavy, and they don’t let you fade into the background. He—he likes that, but it also terrifies him.

The silence stretches on over the phone, occasionally interrupted by Willie’s turn signal or the honking of another car, but after a few minutes, Willie breaks it. “You’re wrong, you know. I do know what I want to do with my life.”

… That’s a new development. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Be Prince Consort to Beasiga’s King,” he says without missing a beat. Alex’s heart skips a beat. “Spend my days helping you help make Beasiga, and the world, a better place. Continue to help move Beasiga forward.”

“Willie…” Alex sighs. He’s torn on being ecstatic and worried at hearing that. “You’re just being—“

“Don’t say I’m just being impulsive,” Willie cuts him off, “because I have been thinking about this since the night you first told me you were a prince. I’ve known I loved you for a long time, Alex, and I’ve been thinking about what this would mean for me since the beginning. I’ve done my research, I’ve thought it through, I’ve sat on it. I’m not just jumping at it first chance.”

Caleb’s words come back to him. He seems just the type for that, your William. No. No he doesn’t. Willie is an active mind, an active body, an active soul. He’s not meant to sit still next to Alex. “Don’t you think you deserve more than that? That if you choose that, you’ll wake up one day and regret it?”

“No,” Willie says, voice confident. “I was never going to make a career out of skateboarding or dance, and it’s not like I can’t still do those in Beasiga. If I’m doing a psych degree in college I’ll maybe look at being a therapist? And who knows, maybe part of helping move Beasiga forward is allowing me to have my own career path separate from my consort duties.”

“What if that doesn’t work? If you’re stuck being a consort without your own career?”

“Being a therapist is just an idea right now,” Willie reminds him. Alex can hear the casual tone of his voice, and it tells Alex that it really is just an idea, that it isn’t something Willie has his heart set on. Still, Alex wants that for him. “I have no idea if I actually want to pursue it or not. But if I do and it ends up not working out, then I’ll still have skateboarding. I’ll still have dance. I’ll still have the ability to make an impact in the world, make differences in peoples days and lives, work with charities, leave my mark. It’s not like I’ll be sitting bored every day. Consorts may have less to do but they don’t have nothing to do. And I can make up my own things to do. Move Beasiga forward. And… I’ll still have you.”

“… And you’re willing to do that for me?”

“I mean, it’s not just for you, it’d be for me, and even in part for Beasiga too, but… yeah.” It’s so simple for Willie to admit that. To say that he’d move to another country, adapt to a different culture, and learn the ins and outs of the country so he could properly advise Alex on how to properly rule that country. Willie’s always made comments—‘I told you, I’d do anything for you’—but Alex had never realized how literal he was being. But, well. If Alex is being honest, he’ll do almost anything for Willie, too. He knows there are things that both he and Willie would draw the line at, but neither he nor Willie would ever dream of asking the other of those things. Like Willie asking Alex to quit the band or Alex asking Willie to give up skateboarding. But Willie moving to Beasiga and serving as Prince Consort along side Alex? Is apparently something Willie will readily do. “If it’ll make you feel better, after you accept your place as Prince we can start talking to Louisa about changing the consort’s duties, so when the time comes, if I want to pursue a career, I’ll have that choice.”

“That… would actually make me feel better,” Alex admits.

“Then tomorrow, after your speech today accepting your place as Prince, we’ll discuss it with Louisa and see what she thinks. Good?”

“Good,” Alex says. Then—“hey. Wait. I still don’t—I still can’t—who said I was going to accept being prince?”

“All right, hit me,” Willie says, and then Alex does—words spilling out of him so quickly that he loses track of what he’s saying. Willie doesn’t though. He listens to Alex patiently and talks him through all of his fears, all of his anxieties. He reminds him of the reasons that, just yesterday, he decided he wanted to be Beasiga’s Prince. Willie listens as Alex questions those exact reasons, and then answers them himself without any input from Willie until it’s entirely a one-sided conversation and Willie is just along for the ride. When Alex comes to the conclusion he still wants to be Prince, Willie asks him how he feels about that, and listens to Alex stammer through half-finished sentences that don’t make sense. And when Alex calms down again, Willie is there to ask Alex if he’s okay, ask him how he can help, ask him if there’s anything he needs.

“No,” Alex shakes his head. “No, I… I’m okay. I think I really, actually am.”

“Okay,” Willie says, accepting his word easily. “All right, I’m turning on your street, come let me inside.”

“You—you’re here?”

“Where else did you think I was going?” Willie demands sounding slightly offended. “Of course I am. I’m gonna get rid of your driver and then we’ll drive to the Ball together, all right? Come unlock the door and start getting ready. I’ll be in in a minute. Where’s your room?”

“Take the stairs, go down the hall and it’s the one on the right.”

“All right. See you in a few.”

Alex does as he’s told and by the time he’s in his dress pants and slipping his button up over his arms, Willie steps into his room. Alex watches as Willie turns and shuts the door even though they’re home alone, and then walks over to him. He takes his place in front of Alex who is straightening his shirt on his shoulders and starting to button it up. They stare at each other, silent. Willie nods, murmurs, “you’re okay.”

Alex buttons up the last button of his shirt and tucks it into his pants. “Yeah,” he says. He reaches to his bed for his vest and slides it over his shoulders. He starts to button it up but Willie’s hands knock his away and take over. Alex watches him with careful eyes. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“You didn’t freak me out,” he says. He does up one, two, three buttons then smooths his hand down from Alex’s chest to his stomach. “I’m just… I’m kind of pissed at myself that I didn’t think of this. I should have expected this. I know you. It took you so long to decide; you didn’t have enough time to be sure of your decision. I should have known you were going to doubt yourself. You just… you were so sure of yourself last night. I didn’t think—”

“Hey,” Alex frowns, dipping his head down to look in Willie’s eyes. He doesn’t want to tell him about Caleb, not right now, not before the ball. He’ll tell him tomorrow, but right now, he needs Willie, and Willie would be livid if he learned about Caleb. “It’s not like this is on you. Even if you had thought if it, there isn’t anything you could have done—“

“I could have been here,” Willie argues, gripping the suit vest and pulling Alex closer. “I wouldn’t have had to talk you through it from my car. You wouldn’t have had to be alone.”

Alex sighs and reaches a hand up to Willie’s jaw so he can bring Willie’s face up to his. He presses their lips together and feels Willie melt against his front. Alex pulls away and lets Willie fall into him. “You were there when I needed you and that’s all that I needed. I mean, you’re going off to college next year anyway; I’m going to need to learn to survive without you at some point. I can’t depend on you for everything, and I really can’t depend on you to predict when something is going to go wrong and wait for you to fix it for me.”

“But if I can—“

“Willie,” Alex says, and then kisses him again. “You’re the reason I’m in this suit right now ready to go tell a whole ass group of people that I’ve decided I’m going to rule a whole other ass group of people in a few years. You’ve done absolutely everything you can.” Then he pulls away from Willie’s hold, eyes widening. “Shit. Shit. My speech.” He looks at the clock on his bedside table. 5:13 “I’m supposed to be giving a speech in seventeen minutes, fuck!”

“I texted Julie when I got here. She’s finding someone so she can tell Louisa what’s going on,” Willie tells him in a calm voice. “She might have already, okay? Get your jacket and tie on, get your shoes on, and I’ll go call her for an update.”

“Okay,” Alex breathes, and does exactly as Willie says.

When he emerges from his room three minutes later, Willie is standing by his front door with his hands in his pockets. He looks up, takes a hand from his pocket, and holds up a thumb and pinky at Alex telling him right away to relax. “We’re good, dude. Speech is at 6:30 now. It’s still a drive though, and we’ve gotta take Melrose to avoid 10 so we don’t hit rush hour on the highway, but it’s still gonna be shitty so we’ve gotta go now.”

What should be a twenty-minute drive ends up taking nearly an hour, so they spend the time devising a plan to talk to his grandmother about Willie’s hypothetical consort duties the next day. Willie starts telling Alex that they can wait, but Alex tells him no. If Willie is committing to Alex to this degree, then Alex wants to make sure that there won’t be any doors shut in Willie’s future. If Willie wants to be a therapist, he’s going to be a fucking therapist. Alex is sure his grandma will help them make it happen. She’s asked Willie what his plans for college are; yet she’s also made implications that he would be the one standing by Alex’s side if Alex were to be King. Why would she do that if she thought Willie would just be a piece at Alex’s side?

When they get to the consulate, Willie pulls them around back and down a driveway that Alex has never taken note of before. When Willie notices his confusion he says, “the press and guests are all… mingling in the halls.”

Alex snorts. “Did you just say mingling?”

“Yeah,” Willie grins. “It’s what Alden said on the phone. Now it’s all I can think of.”

They enter through the caterer’s entrance into a hall that Alex has never been down and Alden is there waiting for them. He greets them both and then leads the way through the hall, down another, and then another, until Alex can see his grandmother, John, and a few other people waiting at the end of the hall they turn into. He feels relief wash through him and, when his grandmother turns to look at him, he can see that same relief run through her as well.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes out when they reach them. She steps forward and collects Alex into a hug, and then Willie, too. “Thank you, Willie, for sending Julie to inform me of what was going on.”

“No problem,” he shrugs. “I’m just glad it all worked out.”

“What on earth happened?” she demands, looking to Alex.

“Uh, minor crisis. Just… clearing my head, you know.” Next to him, Willie snorts.

“Clearing your head?” she asks.

“Uh… yes?”

She rolls her eyes and tosses her hands up in exasperation. “Well I hope your head clearing worked, because we go on in five minutes. Did you make a decision?”

His eyes flick to Willie. “Yeah. I did.”

“… do I get to know this decision?”

“You know? I waited sixteen years to find out I was a prince. You can wait five more minutes to find out whether I’m staying a prince.”

“Harsh,” Willie murmurs, but reaches forward to hook his pinky with Alex’s.

His grandmother looks down at their hands. She looks back up at Alex and shakes her head with a frown, but the effect is ruined a moment later when she breaks into laughter. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that one.”

They fall into casual conversation after that, his grandmother talking about Tasha and how she’d been asking about Willie today and admitted that he had beautiful hair that she wanted to mess around with. Alex laughs at that and Willie does too, but he notices his boyfriend’s face is several shades darker that it had been moments ago. John talks about how they had to remove two reporters for getting in a physical altercation, and seems gleeful while discussing it. Alden is all too interested in listening to the story, and is crestfallen when, in the middle of it, someone comes to retrieve them for the speech. They’re led down the hallway and as they go, the murmurings of voices grow. Alex can feel himself grow more and more tense realizing that he’s going to be under their gazes soon. Willie uses his pinky to drag Alex’s hand up, and then twists their hands in midair until their fingers are twined together.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispers.

His voice catches the attention of Alex’s grandmother who turns around and sees the look on Alex’s face. She relaxes her shoulders and reaches out, tapping her hands gently to his cheeks. “My dear, you will do wonderfully. I will be right up there with you, all right?” He nods. “Good. Now, I must go introduce you. You have a few minutes to prepare.” She turns to Willie. “Remind him how spectacular he is, will you?”

“On it.”

And then she’s gone.

“Hey,” Willie says, and Alex looks at him with wide eyes. “Hey. You with me?” He nods. “Good. Okay, so—you’re anxious right now because you’re about to give a speech and you think they’re going to be judging you for your speech, right? But those people out there are just out there to hear you step into your role as Prince. Alex, this is a good thing. Those people out there will be excited. They’re here to listen to you speak, not to judge you.”

“What if my speech sucks so bad they can’t help but judge me?” Alex asks.

“It won’t.”

“But what if.”

“Then fuck it—you had a bad speech. Everyone has bad performances. You’ve messed beats up during performances with the band and you don’t let those get to you, you brush them off and are ready to play the next gig. You remember when I was in tenth grade and kicked my shoe off into the audience during a performance and then kept slipping on the stage on my sock? It happened, it couldn’t be helped, we moved on. I moved on. If—and that’s a big if—you suck today, you’ll move on too, I promise, okay? I promise. And I’ll help you move on.” Willie leans up on his toes and kisses Alex. “You can do this, Alex. You know you can do this.”

Alex looks down at Willie and sees sincere, brown eyes staring up at him. He drags Willie in for a hug and just… just holds him. Willie returns the hug and pushes his face into Alex’s shoulder and they simply exist together surrounded by each other in a little bubble. He uses Willie’s breathing, working to match his own to it so he doesn’t start to get worked up again. Willie’s fingers are curled into his upper back and the pressure is just enough to ground him, just enough to keep him here and not somewhere far away in his mind where it really is just the two of them.

The bubble is popped a few minutes later when Alden returns to escort Alex to the makeshift stage. He’s reluctant as he pulls away from Willie, and Willie and Alden both know it, but the important thing is that he manages it. He nods at Alden and they start towards the stage, Willie at his side, right up until they reach the entrance to the hall. “I love you,” he whispers, and then stops in his tracks, leaving Alex to twirl around in surprise. He laughs, shooing Alex towards the stage. “Go.” Alex turns, casts a look back at Willie, and then walks forward.

As Alex steps out from the back hall and feels the weight of a room full of eyes fall on him, a fire roars to life in his gut, flaring up through his throat and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Spots dance in his vision during his walk to his grandmother, but he takes a moment to think about his breathing, takes a moment to draw in a deep, full breath, filling his lungs with air, and the spots recede little by little. When he reaches his grandmother, they’re all but gone. She smiles at him and extends an arm out, sweeping her hand out to motion to the crowd, and Alex looks out. The fire burns hotter and he looks back to his grandmother. “You have the floor,” she says, and then retreats back several feet away. He wants to reach out, bring her back, cling on to her for support, but he can’t. He steps up behind the podium and looks back to the hallway he’d just come from and meets Willie’s eyes. Willie smiles at him and gives him and encouraging nod. Alex turns back to the crowd, where every eye is focused on him. He thinks: everyone is looking at him because he’s here to speak, not to judge him. He swallows, glances back at Willie once more, and quells the flame to the best of his ability.

“Hi, uh, I’m Alex. You… probably… all know that since my grandma just introduced me. Sorry. I—uh, kinda wish I had my drums, heh,” Alex laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m, uh, no good with being in the spotlight, or, uh, attention in general, um, not unless I’m behind my drums. Or… uh… it’s really more me being with my band…” He looks out at the crowd and is pleasantly surprised when he finds Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s eyes right in the front, and Flynn standing next to them. They’re all wearing radiant smiles and directing them towards Alex, and the flame recedes further down his throat on its own, and he feels himself relax back into his shoes. “Which, thankfully for me, they’re the best band ever and they’re here with me today, so, uh, no fainting or vomiting for me today. Oh—I didn’t need to add that, did I? O… kay. Uh. Anyways. Uh, I’m sure most of you know me, or at least of me, if you’re here. I’m Queen Louisa’s grandson, and Prince Frederick’s son. If you didn’t know this, yeah, neither did I a month and a half ago. Heh. I was shocked too. But, yeah, I’ve gotten used to it. Hopefully you will too.

“Uh, so. Beasiga is celebrating its three hundred and sixth formation day today. For one of the first times, the reigning monarch is not in the country to celebrate with the citizens. Instead, she is here, in the Beasiga consulate in Los Angeles, California, United States of America, with all of us. And she is here because of me.” He looks over to where his grandmother is standing off to the side, her hands folded over her midriff and her shoulders set tall and proud. The fire subsides further. She smiles at him, a motion for him to continue. “Um, my grandmother came at the end of October to meet me and begin teaching me the ins and outs of Beasiga and what it meant to be a prince and what it would later mean to be a king. She dedicated her time here to me not for me, but for Beasiga. Uh, and she did it in hopes that I would become the person she envisioned me to be, in hopes that I would step up, accept my claim to the throne, and rule Beasiga justly and fairly, exactly as she has been teaching me to do.

“What she didn’t expect to come across when she got here was a sixteen year old kid with anxiety who immediately ran away from the idea of being a prince. And I do mean that literally. I, uh. I ran out of the consulate after she told me I would be Prince and had to have my friend come pick me up.” The crowd laughs, some with humor, some unsure, and Alex smiles. Alex turns to look back at the hallway where Willie is still tucked away. He smiles at him and Willie smiles back. It’s only embers left in his gut, now. “Hm. Anyway. Yeah, so, uh, she didn’t expect that, but it’s what she got, and she helped turn that kid with anxiety into the kid who… still very much has anxiety, but can stand up here speaking with all of you. Yes, it’s still terrifying, but it’s not debilitating anymore. And she also gave me a choice. To use everything she gave me to rule Beasiga, or to use it in some other facet of life.” He draws in a deep breath. “I chose to use it elsewhere. I was never cut out to be a prince. I never in a million years dreamed that I could.

“But—could. Could is a word that is used to indicate possibility. Thanks for the vocab help, Google. So… Would it even be possible for me to rule Beasiga? I don’t know. I didn’t know. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t know if it was possible, or if I was able. Able. Be able to. The question became can I? I doubted myself, and I started asking myself that question a lot more often. And then I started asking other people. Their answers varied. Most were encouraging which wasn’t helpful because it’s not like someone’s going to tell you that you’re going to suck at ruling a country, right? Yeah, no. I surround myself with kind people, but sometimes, kind people don’t tell you what you need to hear. But then—there’s one person. I asked him, I went, ‘do you think I can?’ And he said, ‘man, I don’t know. I just care about whether or not you’re willing.’” Alex says, pausing for a long moment. “So, it became a matter of whether I was willing, which was a much, much easier question to answer. Because, well, yeah. I am willing.

“I’m willing to study Beasigan history, politics, government, culture, and anything and everything else there is to know about Beasiga to know the country as best I can. I’m willing to grow myself as a person and conquer fears that once held me hostage to know myself as best I can. I’m willing to put aside my fears and confront uncertainty to find a place for myself in this world. But I’m also willing to dedicate myself to Beasiga through the good times and the bad. I’m also willing to work at finding ways of moving Beasiga forward, at leading Beasiga into even better times than it is already in, which of course will be a challenge, as my grandmother is quite the Queen. And most importantly, I’m also willing to choose the people of Beasiga over myself.

“I prematurely chose to use the skills my grandma gave me in a different walk of life. But today and every day moving forward I will choose to use them for the country and people of Beasiga.” There’s a whoop out in the crowd that Alex can identify as Reggie’s and he can’t stop himself from grinning at his friend. However, the cheer from Reggie starts the rest of the crowd, and now the rest of them are cheering and clapping as well. Alex watches, waiting for them to quiet down. When they do, he looks over to his grandmother and smiles. It’s easier than he could have ever imagined to say, “Moving forward, I will be Alexander Charles Taylor Mercer, Prince of Beasiga.”

Once more, cheers rise from the crowd in front of him. His grandmother walks up beside him and he steps out from behind the podium to meet her. She surprises him when she pulls him in to a hug in front of all these people, but he returns it without any hesitance.

When she pulls away, there’s a man waiting beside them, a royal purple and white mantle held in his arms. His grandmother takes it from the man and turns to Alex. He leans down so she can drape it over his shoulders. It weighs heavy on his shoulders and while he’s leaning down next to her he mutters, “do I have to wear this thing often?”

“Just for the next few minutes. Then you won’t see it again until your coronation.”

“Oh, thank god.”

His grandmother laughs and he stands back up, standing beside her with his shoulders tall and proud. The audience is still cheering—he can pick out Luke, Reggie, Julie, and Flynn’s voices in particular—and there are cameras flashing as news reporters get photographs for their articles. There’s a loud whooping from off to the side, separate from the crowd, and Alex looks over to see Willie cupping his hands around his mouth, cheering. He laughs, beaming at his boyfriend who returns the expression right back, and Alex feels on top of the world.

Dinner is served in the ballroom after that, which sends a wave of guilt through Alex as he knows the kitchens plan meals down to the minute, and his delay must have thrown them off horribly. Even so, the food is wonderful and Alex gets to sit with Willie, his band, and Flynn—or, sorry, his “honored guests.” His grandmother is sat at the table next to him with John, Alden, another commercial attaché, and Jeffry and Daniel. She sends him looks every few minutes, especially when Luke or Reggie get too loud, but they’re never bad, merely amused.

After dinner he’s passed from reporter to reporter while the tables and chairs are cleared out of the ballroom and the floor is swept. Alex imagines that it’s going to take forever, but to his surprise it only takes about fifteen minutes between all the staff working. So he only gets to talk to about five reporters, each for about three minutes, and then he’s being taken back to the hall so he can enter with his grandmother separately.

The music playing is an even tempo, one that Alex has become accustomed to dancing to over the past month and a half. When he and his grandmother enter together, right away his eyes begin searching for Willie. He can’t find him even by the time they reach the center of the room, so he releases her hand and leaves her to go off dancing with whoever has approached her and begins walking circles. He has a flash of anxiety that Willie might have left—maybe Willie didn’t want to be seen with Alex as a couple in front of so many cameras? Or even he knew Alex’s dad was here, maybe he didn’t want to upset the man? Or maybe he realized—

The crowd parts to the left of Alex and Willie steps out. Alex’s heart flutters in his chest and he feels the smile take over his face, sees Willie match it.

They approach each other slowly, not hesitantly, just taking their time to look at each other, which Alex feels like he hasn’t done yet. Willie is in a maroon suit with grey accents and a white under shirt. It’s not fitted to him—not the way that Alex’s is, the way Alex’s almost hugs him. Willie’s is a bit big, a bit baggy, but still fits him well enough that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t staring. His hair is down, falling over his shoulders and coming to rest right above where his ribs begin, and Alex reaches out to grab a piece of the end of his hair, twirling it on his finger. “You look good,” he says.

“Just noticing?”

“Do you forget I was having my crisis earlier?”

Willie grins. “Right, the minor one.”

“Very minor, it all turned out okay in the end.”

“Good to hear.”

Alex drops the strand of hair he’s holding and steps back, bowing deliberately. Willie smiles and copies him. They straighten up and step into each other’s arms, relaxing into their holds.

“They’re taking pictures of us,” Willie murmurs and Alex can hear the clicking of the cameras too. “Everyone is going to know by tomorrow.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want anyone to feel like I was hiding this from them,” he says. “And I certainly don’t want to hide you.” He presses his lips against Willie’s forehead and sighs. He tips his head forward so his nose is pressed against Willie’s hairline. “Just think,” he whispers, and his voice is barely audible to even the two of them over the music. “Tomorrow plenty of people all over the world are going to see these pictures and realize how fucking in love with you I am.”

Willie pulls away from Alex and stares up at him with bright eyes full of… full of so much. Full of trust, full of care, full of respect, full of warmth, full of acceptance, full of want. “I’m gone on you,” Willie says, reaching up and dragging Alex’s head down for a kiss. Alex goes, and they keep it chaste and appropriate for the venue, but. It was needed.

When they pull apart, Alex pulls Willie closer to him again and Willie buries his face in Alex’s shoulder as they abandon all pretenses of the traditional ballroom dance and decide to simply sway together. Alex holds Willie and looks up, looking around the room to find nearly every eye on them. The eyes of his friends, his family, the press, diplomatic leaders from around the world, and his new country’s government leaders are all on him and Willie. They just saw them kiss. He laughs and thinks, with a sense of déjà vu, yeah, he’d stare at whoever was kissing Willie too.

No fire burns in his gut, no panic wells in his veins.

#willex #willex fic #willex fanfic #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #ysmfinb #my writing

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ender-chimera · 3 years

Text

adventure is out there

Chapter 1 - I Wanna Be The Very Best

Word Count: 797 words A/N: alrighty looks like i’m actually writing fic again, who would’ve thought lmao. this is my first dream smp fic so if people are a bit ooc i apologize, hopefully i’ll get a better grasp on the characters as i keep writing. but yeah!! to give a quick summary this is a pokemon au fic mostly centering around tommy! if you like what you read please give this post a reblog and maybe a comment if you’re feeling extra generous and i’ll try to update this fic as much as my motivation allows! have a nice day <3

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This is by far the most poggers idea Tommy Innit has ever had.

Now don’t get him wrong, every one of his ideas are very pog, no matter what Wilbur says, but this one in particular is simply his finest work. You see, from the moment he discovered the existence of the Pokemon League Challenge he just knew he would be the next one to take up the mantle as League Champion. It was practically destiny! But in order to do that, as everyone knows, you need to collect every Gym’s badge, defeat each member of the Elite 4 one after the other, and finally, defeat whoever the current Champion is.

It was almost too easy, really, in Tommy’s humble opinion.

But becoming Champion is just his end goal. No, the truly awe-inspiring idea that mastermind and veritable genius Tommy Innit had come up with was that he wasn’t going to wait even a minute longer to start his journey, which means he would become the youngest Champion in history of ever, and then he would finally get some recognition of hi-

“Are you sure you’re allowed to do this? I mean, I got permission from my dad so long as I check in every week or so, but did your family really say they’re okay with you leaving?”

Tommy put a pause on his epic internal speech, sighing. “Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo. Big Men such as myself don’t need to ask permission for these sorts of things.”

Oh yeah, and he was going to do it with Tubbo.

...What? It wasn’t like he was just gonna leave his best friend behind, who do you take him for? And what would Tubbo even do without Tommy there? He was really doing him a favor because Tubbo would probably implode or some shit if Tommy didn’t let him tag along on his soon-to-be historic journey. At least, he wouldn’t be surprised if he imploded, with Tubbo being the clingiest person in the world and everything.

But even all that clinginess didn’t keep Tubbo from frowning and fixing Tommy with one of his signature Disapproving Looks™ in response.

“...Tommy,” he said. “I get that you wanna do this without their help, but this is kind of a big deal. Like, everyone I’ve ever known, from here in town and from far away, always describes going on journeys as legitimately life-changing. They’re this ‘huge milestone’ and ‘super valuable experience’, and all that. Surely your family would want to know you’re going on one now? Not to mention the fact that they’d think you’ve literally disappeared if you didn’t tell them anything at all, like I’m almost certain you did.”

“Wow. That is so very rude and cringe of you, Tubbo,” Tommy said. “I can’t believe you’d think so little of me. I’ll have you know I know exactly how big of a deal this is, and I did tell everyone I’m on my way to becoming the Biggest Man ever.”

(As long as leaving a note on his bedroom door counts as telling everyone what he’s about to do, which, by the way, it definitely does.)

Tubbo’s eyes narrowed. His Disapproving Look™ didn’t waver in the slightest for the next few moments, which Tommy definitely didn’t wilt under at all, but eventually he sighed and turned his attention back to sorting through his bag of supplies for the fourth time this morning. “Alright then. I’ll take your word for it. But if somewhere down the line I find out that there’s a region-wide search looking for you or something equally as ridiculous, I’m not to blame for your bad decision making.”

Tommy scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Please. I’ve never made a bad decision in all my life. I’m offended you’d ever suggest such a thing.”

Tubbo stopped his sorting and turned to raise an eyebrow at him. Tommy hated that eyebrow. It moving like that always meant Tubbo was either about to give him a lecture or, even worse, slander his good name.

“So that one time when you and your Zigzagoon got stuck on my roof after trying to prove that with your powers combined you could climb literally anything.. wasn’t a bad idea?” he asked with a grin.

Slander, then. Unbelievable.

“TUBBO UNDERSCORE how DARE you bring up The Incident™, I’ve never felt more betrayed in my entire life, I- I cannot believe you right now, we are no longer friends-

Tubbo burst out laughing as Tommy lunged forward to tackle him, missing just barely as Tubbo ducked away and started running, leaving Tommy to almost faceplant in the dirt before catching himself and giving chase. “GET BACK HERE YOU BITCH!!”

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.

This was still the best idea Tommy’s ever had. He could feel it.

#dream smp #dream smp au #dream smp au fic #mcyt #mcyt au #mcyt au fic #pokemon au #dream smp pokemon au #adventure is out there #my writing

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ssfghfrrggf · 4 years

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talk to me more about your tag saying something is up w Casey more than just Brett. bc I’ve got Casey as 100% having ptsd and probably depression/anxiety symptoms for like his entire life and I would love for his reaction to the whole sylvie situation not be him just being dumb but maybe having some sort of trauma/depression episode. And I honestly think that would be more in character of him than just fully not having the emotional intelligence to “fight” for sylvie. We’ve seen him outline what he wants in a relationship several times both to Gabby and Hallie and those relationships had their issues but I don’t think you can point to either of them and say Matt had it easy, that he didn’t have to chase or make a move. And to the note of trauma and relationships I think there’s plenty to unpack about dawsey that maybe borders the realm of more than just toxic but even if you don’t go there I think it’s pretty easy to see Matt’s reaction to sylvie bringing up gabby so suddenly as much more than having residual feelings. —literally don’t even bother reading that it just felt to get out lmao

Im kidding 😂 i got time and i have yet to write a Casey essay, so this is long over due, and i'll probably go off on some unrelated tangents.

First and foremost i'll explain what i meant by "there's more up with Matt than just whats going on with Brett." For the most part I can't really put my finger on it. I said this to my wife earlier: it's like the writers are dropping bread crumbs that something's wrong and I'm picking up on them dropping the crumbs but i can't find or place the actual crumbs? And i think that him having depression/anxiety/ptsd isn't really a stretch to say. He definitely has a very down feeling to him and he just seems off to me. He seems like he's feeling old and tired? When he was talking to Gallo at the end of last night's episode he just seemed heavy? Like the way he was talking and acting just made me feel heavy. I think maybe the job is starting to weigh on him more, and i think what Gallo did reminded him of or brought those feelings to the surface. He's lost three firefighters under his command, four if you count Jimmy. Losing any firefighter is detrimental hit, but when they're under your command and you're responsible for them it's that much worse. I think those losses (Andy, What's her name (that one girl candidate who's name i cant remember to save my life), Jimmy (in a way), and Otis) are really weighing on him and Gallo doing what he did made it worse because he's scared Gallo is going to get added to the list. That may be the root of the off feeling i got from him, but it seems like there's more. Idk. It's really hard to explain.

I think what Matt is doing with Brett i think both makes sense for him as a character and i think him giving her space isn't him being emotionally stunted or even being an idiot. I think it's respectful and the right thing to do. Sometimes when people say they need space THEY NEED SPACE and NOT for the person they want space from to keep pressuring them into being together!!! Like yes Matt needs to tell her how he feels, but i don't think he needs to do it right now. They both need to get their ducks in a row before they can be together and be together successfully. And think him not chasing down what he wants and not disregarding the needs and wants that Brett expressed to him actually shows a good bit of emotional maturity and I will die on that hill! The way he's handling himself over it probably isn't the best or healthiest, but the over all decision not to put pressure on Brett and quote not from you "go get his woman" is right.

I honestly find it refreshing. So many times in shows we get the guy who has been turned down being all like "oh, she doesn't know what she wants. But i know what she wants (it's me) so i'm gonna go get her!" So it's nice that we have him respecting what she wants and not trying to push that what he wants is also what's best for her. I'm beating this dead horse to death and i'm sorry but you gave me the perfect opportunity to word vomit all my pent up Matt feelings

On to the next point about this being very in tune with Matt's character. For a long time Matt has thrown himself into things and really shot for what he wanted and it hasn't really worked out for him. Hallie for example: they broke up because she didn't want kids. They got back together then Matt pushed for kids again and they broke up again. Then they got back together and he probably would've ended up pushing for kids again if she hadn't gotten killed. Now the same thing didn't happen with Gabby. And honestly i'm not really gonna go into that one because i don't feel like dealing with a bunch of angry Dawsey shippers, but i'll say this much: that relationship also ended with a lot of heart break for Matt. Like the guy has just had a really stinkin shitty time with serious relationships, and i honestly think it has him just a little bit traumatized. AND CAN WE REALLY BLAME HIM??? It is literally human nature like deep primal instinct to avoid things that hurt us. The stove is hot. You touch the hot stove. The hot stove burns you. You go YIKES! that hurt! Im not gonna touch the hot stove again! I think a similar thing has kind of happened with Matt. He's been hurt by all of his major relationships, and hurt pretty dang bad at that. For him serious relationships have become like a hot stove, and his answer to Brett's question about Gabby was him metaphorically avoiding touching the hot stove. He did a bit of self sabotage because he didn't want to get hurt again and you know fucking what? That's fucking understandable! And okay! Like fucking me too buddy!

Now ironically and honestly sadly he still ended up hurting himself in the process of trying to avoid opening himself up to potential hurt. We know he wants love and family, and it's what he deserves but he's had such a shitty time trying to get that, that i think its going to take a lot of time for him to open himself back up to trying. He also knows that if he were to start something with Sylvie it wouldn't be a fling. They have such a deep personal friendship that there's no way it could be. And he doesn't want it to be either and he doesn't want to be hurt again. So he's taking his time- he was buying himself time with that line about Gabby.

Looping back to the "Matt did the right thing in giving Sylvie space" dead horse. I think Matt has an understanding with Sylvie and what she's been through. She's also had a pretty crappy run with relationships. She's been engaged twice and hurt ample times. I think he gets that so he doesn't want to move in too soon and hurt her. I think her planting that kiss on him when he went to check on her took him by surprise then he got caught up in it. Then she asked him about Gabby and it got real and he panicked.

That was kind of all over the place and im sorry! But i had to let that all out! I also hope it made sense and hope it answered your question at least a little! I feel like i got kind of off topic there 😅

#chicago fire #matt casey #the 'what's eating matthew casey' discussion

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cyn-00 · 4 years

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Moreid one shot, 12 - "can't lose you"

Season 11, episode 18 "A beautiful disaster". This is straight up how I would've preferred the episode to go

I have to say some things! 1) This one was litterally the last good and easy idea I had, it's gonna be a while before I can find some more Moreid inspiration since now I'm at season 12...(and you know what that means *crying in the club*) 2) I kinda didn't wanna spoil anything until you actually READ it (like I want there to be "plot twists" and stuff), though if you have a good memory you've already spoiled it for yourself lmao

y'all I edited this at least 3 times over the past months and it still...kinda...sucks. Please keep your expectations meek *curls into a ball*

Read it on AO3

-------------

Derek furiously stormed out of Hotch's office, slamming the door behind him.

"Morgan!" he heard Aaron's voice calling his name from inside, mad that he had interrupted their argument in such a rude and disrespectful way.

It was the first of 3 days of Derek's suspension. However, that morning he'd been called in by Hotch to be given yet another bad news. Probably the worst news Morgan had ever received from him.

Since Strauss had passed away, the BAU had felt like they were somewhat off the hook, disciplinary measure-wise - but nobody had the guts to admit it out loud. On that specific occasion, though, Morgan had fucked up big time - there's just no other way to say it.

A few days before that, they were working on a case in Chicago's south side - Derek's hometown - where a "vigilante" had murdered 5 people among prostitutes, homeless and drug addicts, some of them barely 18 years old, by choking them. Clearly, that case really got under Derek's skin, so when the team had finally located the unsub, he snapped.

JJ and him had arrived first: it was dark and sketchy, hence she wanted to wait for the others, but Derek had vanished into the alleys before they'd even got a chance to actually SEE the guy.

Morgan had supposedly chased the unsub for a while, guided by just his dark shadow, until he lost him altogether. The unsub surprised him from behind a dumpster, making him accidentally drop his gun; so, obviously, the dynamic had quickly transitioned into a fist fight. Derek had got lucky enough that the rest of the team had found them and stopped the unsub before he could choke him with his forearm, against a brickwall.

So yeah: he had really screwed up big time. And even being the most comprehensive and tolerant chief that Mateo Cruz was, he couldn't close an eye on that one. So he suspended him for 3 days - basically, from the next case coming up.

But the suspension was nothing, NOTHING compared to what Hotch had just told him.

Derek was halfway to his own office, but heard the door of Hotch's office open again far behind him.

"Morgan!" Aaron's voice got louder as he reached him and grabbed his arm to stop him. Derek turned around.

"I-I'm sorry, Hotch- look. I'm not mad at you, I get it, this wasn't your fault." he sighed in resignation, shaking his head, seeing that Aaron's raging features had quieted down - probably because he immediately understood where Derek was going with that. He stayed silent for a while, wearing a lost expression.

"I just don't know how to tell him." he finally confessed, lowering his voice and directing his gaze toward Reid from afar, who was entering the bullpen through the glass doors along with JJ, right in that moment - which meant that luckily he'd heard none of that argument, at least. Not that that was of much comfort anyway, considering the news he was gonna receive in a few minutes.

"I know." Hotch said apologetically, patting a hand on Morgan's shoulder before heading back to his office. Seeing the growing anxiousness in him, and how much there was on his plate already, he decided to let him deal with that, figuring that scolding him for his previous behavior was only gonna add to it all.

JJ was chatting with Reid about something while walking past the sliding doors. Rather than talking with him, though, she was talking to him: he wasn't really listening that much, let alone participating.

Since the day Derek had made that mess, things hadn't been very good between him and Spencer - to use an euphemism. And everyone had noticed it. They had a big fight right after what happened; a second fight as soon as Derek had told him about the suspension, and - icing on the cake - they hadn't spent a single night together since then, staying at their own places: one might think it wasn't too bad, since after all only a week had passed, but considering that they ALWAYS went home together, it was...bad.

Being kind of everyone's counselor, Penelope almost always knew each and every side to the same story - not that the others wanted to, but she had such a persuasive way of making one spill whatever they had to spill. For said reason, she'd felt sure enough that she could reassure both Spencer and Derek that the situation of tension between them, that feeling of being lost and not knowing what to do, was just temporary.

Hence, Spencer came up with an idea to try and patch things up, an idea that had been wandering in his head for a while now, but he'd always wanted to wait for the "right" time. He figured that was the right time.

He raised his eyes from the floor and saw Hotch and Morgan, each heading back to their own offices. But Morgan got suspended, he thought, so the only reason why he would've had to be there was that Hotch had specifically asked him to. And there was no way on Earth that could be a good sign.

"...Spence?" JJ tried to catch his attention, seeing that he had stopped walking all of a sudden and was now looking up with a confused frown on his face. Receiving no answer, she shifted her eyes too, to see what could be so interesting that got him staring that intensely.

"Uhm- what is Derek doing here?" she asked, finally acknowledging the distraction.

"I don't know. I'm gonna go figure out though." he replied without shifting his eyes from Derek's office door, closing behind him.

"If...if you don't mind, I mean." he added politely once he'd regained awareness of his surroundings, now giving her puppy eyes.

"Come on now." she said rolling her eyes, wondering why he even doubted that she would let him go. "Go ahead! Do what you have to do." she nodded, affectionately patting her hand on Reid's shoulder.

Derek was in his office with the lights off, hunched over the desk to lean on his arms and, obviously, his back was facing the door.

"Hey, uhm...can I get in?" he heard Spencer's muffled voice from outside, knocking on the door.

Derek suddenly opened his eyes, feeling his breathing get heavier by the second; a sensation of unbearable coldness flowing inside his veins and freezing his blood.

Receiving no answer, Spencer chose not to get in yet, afraid to bother him.

"Der- I- I have to tell you something... Are you alright?" he kept talking to him through the door. His voice was so gentle, Morgan was dying inside at the idea of having to tear him apart with the things he had to tell him.

Derek kept ignoring him, so Spencer figured he'd just come in. He closed the door behind him and put his satchel on the floor, switching the light on.

"...What was that thing with Hotch about?" he asked nervously, fiddling with his hands.

Derek didn't move.

Spencer took a few, slow steps toward him, till he could finally see his face. He seemed... concerned, to say the least: his jaw clenched tight as if trying to contain the urge of throwing up, his eyes were open but glued to the floor; his whole body looked petrified, while on the other hand, his brain seemed to be working overload: it was almost as if he were keeping something from him - which he was, unbeknownst to Spencer so far.

"... Derek?" Spencer called him softly with an expression of deep worry, gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

Derek flinched at Spencer's touch, like his skin was so hypersensitive that even so much as a stroke of fingers through the cotton fabric of his henley was enough to bring him back to reality and finally face him, straightening up.

A part of Spencer was faintly relieved that he'd managed to awaken him, but the most part was utterly freaked out by his demeanor, bringing him to instantly take his hand off of him.

"Can I tell you something first?" Derek managed to finally speak up, his voice deep and slightly wavering, only adding to the discomfort possessing the man beside him.

Spencer nodded worriedly.

Derek sighed heavily, trying to find the right words to tell him what he had to tell him; his forehead was already glimmering with cold sweat. Problem was, there were no right words to announce something like that: he was expecting Spencer's reaction to be nothing short of sheer distraught regardless.

"Spencer, I- I'm leaving." he ultimately stated, getting to the point without mincing his words.

Derek had to leave. That was the terrible news Hotch had given him about 15 minutes before.

He had made sure Morgan understood that neither him or Cruz had had a say in that decision. He'd also made sure to remind him - but that, Morgan knew already - that the Board had been considering to transfer him for months, due to a series of reasons, and that mistake was just yet another excuse added to their list. Moreover, Hotch said that the Board had cared enough to specify that among those reasons, Derek being a risk to the stability of the Unit wasn't one of those. In reality, he was convinced at least as much as Morgan was, that that one had been the ONLY effective reason leading to his transfer: proof of such thesis was in the fact that, during all those months, the Board hadn't been sly enough to avoid hinting here and there that Derek had been, quote unquote, "more of a damage to the Unit than a valuable resource" for some time now.

The second those words left his mouth, Derek saw a painful scowl crinkle the space in between his boyfriend's eyebrows. The man was looking sternly into his eyes without blinking, although his visibly trembling breath was betraying that apparent composure.

"W-what do you mean?" Spencer asked after a few seconds of silence, during which he had tried to wrap his mind around that idea, even though he understood what that meant perfectly.

"Hotch said..." Derek paused, shifting his eyes to face the floor, unable to bear with the look Spencer was giving him any longer. "...he said that the Board have been thinking about transferring me to another unit since October. But that last...that last slip, gave them the final excuse."

"Transfer w-where ??"

"DC headquarters." Derek answered, aware that the fact that Washington DC was just an hour car ride from Quantico didn't make any difference. For that matter, it could've been 12 hours: how near or far wasn't the problem.

"Wasn't the suspension enough?" Spencer questioned further, incredulous.

Morgan merely shook his head.

"And you couldn't just say no??" the other added - quite naively on his part - raising is voice, which was getting a bit squeaky as it always did when he was mad.

Derek sighed, frowning. "No, kid, look-"

"Just- don't call me names right now, I wanna know WHY you didn't refuse ?? After all it's nothing but a damn job offer, no one can force you to quit if you don't want to!" Spencer interrupted him before he could even explain, as his sadness was morphing into pure anger.

"It's not a job offer, Spencer. It's- I don't know, it's like when years ago JJ left: Strauss forced her to." Derek explained as crystal-clear as he could, trying not to sound too annoyed by how straight up dumb Spencer was acting in that moment.

Reid stayed silent for a while, gaping and squinting his eyes at him, like he was trying to figure out something that Derek didn't want to confess.

"Is it because you want ? You want to leave?" he asked more calmly. That question only proved that he hadn't even physically heard what Derek had just told him.

"What the hell- are you even LISTENING to me?? Do you realize that what you're implying makes no sense? I don't want to leave, it's either this or being fired altogether, do you understand? I have NO say in this, I have no choice what so ever." he paused, letting out a quivering sigh.

"Fuck, Spencer." Derek concluded like that, with his arms spread open and an expression full of all the rage that he had tried to keep buried inside so far, because he knew he should've had to be prepared for such a reaction. It would be a lie to say that he hadn't tried, though.

Hearing someone scream at him like that always scared Spencer a little, he had to admit. But when Derek screamed at him, it was not only that: it was also painful, because it meant that he was the one hurt and scared in the first place. And, to Spencer, there was nothing scarier than the person who had always protected him and stayed strong for him turning into a scared person.

His eyes filled with tears of frustration, but he was determined to keep looking firmly into Derek's while spitting out to his face what he'd been holding inside since the beginning.

"You did have a choice, though." Reid started, gulping immediately after to try and steady his voice. "You said it yourself that you've known for months the Board were keeping an eye on you- and I KNOW they specifically have a problem with you for no apparent reason - there's no denying that. But exactly because of that, you should've been more careful. You chose to play rebel, untamed, indipendent like you always do when someone wrongs you, and I get that, I- I admire you for that to be quite honest, most of the times, but not this time. Because you know that your voice counts as much as zero to the Board, Derek- you have no power over them, none of us do- not even CRUZ or HOTCH for God's sake! And once again you chose to jeopardize your position, instead of stepping down and getting over your ego." he stopped for a second to quickly wipe off a tear that managed to escape his eye.

"And you knew this would affect me, too." he sniffled. "You KNEW that."

All those things Spencer said - partially right - left Derek speechless and with his heart shattered into a million pieces. Did it even make sense to apologize? To say a corny "I'm sorry"? What would that get him - or either of them?

So he just stood there, jerking his tingling eyes away from him because he couldn't keep up with that stare any longer.

Spencer's phone buzzed. He took it out of his pants pocket and read Garcia's text.

"New case! Briefing in 5 mins ;)" it said. If only she knew what Derek had just told him, he thought for a second.

"We-uhm...I have a case." Spencer said, his voice hoarse.

Derek clenched his jaw and ran a palm over his face, as the knot in his throat tightened tenfold: a case meant that they were gonna see each other again in 3 or 4 days at best. He hated the idea that they were splitting up like that, mad at one another.

Spencer had already picked up his bag and was about to open the door, when the other spoke up.

"W-wait, you said you had to tell me something...?"

Spencer sighed and took his hand off the doorknob, turning around. He hadn't forgotten about it - you can't put "Spencer Reid" and "forget" in the same phrase. He was hoping Derek had, though.

He stepped closer, searching for something in his jacket pocket. Without saying anything, he picked out a key and handed it to him.

Derek took it, looking into Spencer's eyes.

"Is- is this the key to your place?" he asked with his mouth hanging open, hesitant to wrap his mind around what Reid was implying with that gesture.

"I was planning on asking you...to move in with me." he shrugged, unable to keep the angry-and-outraged-tone thing going on because of the look he was giving him. "I thought it would bring us together but, look- I don't even know, at this point. I'm gonna let you choose what you wanna do with it." he concluded, resuming that unfazed attitude from earlier.

Derek wanted to wrap him tight in his arms and cry on his shoulder. He wanted to undo what he'd done and go back to how things were before. He wanted to run his fingers through his silky curls and tell him that he was sorry, sorry for letting the impulse of the moment overpower his rationality, and for not having thought of him when doing so; sorry for not having paid attention; sorry for having snapped at him a few minutes before; sorry for ruining everything: he wanted to say that corny "I'm sorry" despite having just decided against it. He wanted to crumble on the floor and hug his knees like a child, whispering a million "I love you"s while Spencer caressed his head, telling him that it was ok, that he had forgiven him. But it wasn't ok. Not anymore.

Morgan dismissed all those options, deciding instead to simply place a hand on his tear-dampened cheek; a hand that was shaking at the only concept of being rejected in a few seconds.

"Spencer...please." he murmured, unable to get a hold of the trembling of his bottom lip and the gradual blurring of his vision; symptoms of a raw cry he'd been keeping at bay for too long.

Spencer shook his head and slowly took Derek's wrist, pulling his hand away. He turned around and opened the door at last.

He froze in spot when Hotch appeared right in front of him, about to knock.

"I was right about to call you, we're all in the conference room already." he said to him with a slightly concerned look, seeing the upset expression on his face.

"I'm here now." Reid replied with an unsettling coldness, getting out of the room by quickly slipping through the gap between him and the door jamb.

Hotch stood there for a second, without actually entering the office, staring at Morgan with a look that said everything there was to say, needless to pronounce a syllable.

He sighed and walked away, heading back to the conference room.

- 7 days later, 12:30 am ca.

The team were on the jet, 30 minutes from Quantico, after a case in Phoenix, Arizona - long case, long flight. During which, Reid made sure that he was sitting alone.

He knew that Morgan had tried to call him, several times, and even left a message, but he just couldn't let himself get distracted while working on such a hard case.

Now that said case was over, though, there were no more valid excuses to keep ignoring him: he picked out the phone from his pocket and sighed, preparing himself for whatever Derek said in that voice message.

"Hey, look- I know you're ignoring me on purpose, and I get it, alright? But, just- call me back, please ?" there was a long pause, followed by a deep sigh. "I miss you, kid. Bye."

Spencer's heart broke in half. He didn't know what to do: he felt like he'd been too harsh on him but, at the same time, Derek had really messed up, and he wanted him to realize that he couldn't just bury the hatchet like nothing happened.

Another thing that was bothering Spencer was that he couldn't even tell the others. He was the only one that knew about Derek leaving, besides of course Derek himself and Hotch. For the past week he'd really had a hard time trying not to break and just blurt out everything, each time JJ had asked him what was troubling him so much and if he had made up with Derek; or, way worse, each time Garcia had called, admitting to him that she'd tried to reach out to them both, hoping at least one would spit it out. But, as much as he was still holding a hell of a grudge on him, Spencer could've never brought himself to be disrespectful to the point of telling everyone. Morgan had to do it, on his own terms, once they got back.

Spencer's flood of thoughts was interrupted by Hotch, approaching him - to be fair, he was quite surprised that he had decided to talk to him just then, 30 minutes from landing. He literally had hours of flight to do it.

"Can I sit here for a second?" he asked politely. Spencer nodded.

Aaron sat down, leaning closer to him with his hands crossed on the tray table.

"I don't want what I'm going to say to sound like a lecture, partly because it's not really my business and partly because you surely have already figured it out on your own." Hotch said straight up but quietly, aware of how Reid didn't like the others knowing about his personal stuff.

Spencer frowned, without saying anything yet, allowing him to continue with his speech to have actual proof that he was about to say what he guessed he was about to say.

"I need you to understand that the Board would've transferred Morgan anyway sooner or later, regardless of this specific mistake. They've been thinking that he isn't suit to stay in our Unit for a while now." he continued, looking straight into Reid's eyes to catch his reaction. It kinda was what Spencer had guessed he was gonna say.

"I-I know that. Point is, he should've been more careful anyway. Maybe at some point they would've given up...I-I don't know." Spencer answered ingenuously, toying with the buckle of his satchel resting on his lap.

"Yes, he should've been more careful. But no, they wouldn't have given up." the other man replied, getting to the point like he always did.

"All I'm saying is, try not to make things harder for him..." he paused. "...and for yourself." Hotch concluded, confident that he'd understand what he meant.

Spencer finally raised his chin, following the other man with his big eyes as he stood up and went back to sit where he was sitting before.

- an hour and a half later (2 am ca.)

Spencer walked up the stairs of the building - more accurately: dragged himself up the stairs - and got to the front door of his apartment. As he searched for the keys in his pockets, it came to his mind that he probably had to text Derek back, at that point. Even though it was 2 am, which meant he probably wouldn't have replied until morning, he felt like it was only fair to at least let him know that they were back in Quantico.

He opened the door, turning on the lampshade over the dresser, and dropped his jacket on a chair along with his heavy bag. He breathed out a slightly nervous sigh while staring pensively at the phone in his hand.

"Back home...sorry, long case. I'll call you in the morning ?" he pressed 'send' without thinking about it too much. Again: it was 2 am, he was too damn exhausted to stress over a text.

As soon as he put his phone back in his pants pocket, he heard a buzz, like another phone notification buzz, somewhere in the room. Spencer widened his eyes open like he suddenly had some sort of intuition.

He quickly picked his phone back out of the pocket and browsed through his contacts to make a call.

Spencer heard the unknown phone once again buzzing through the silence of the room, so he kept the call going to try and locate where the faint noise was coming from. Following it, he slowly made his way around the couch, which faced the window - not the front door.

He hung up the call and brought a hand to his mouth as a silly smile appeared on his face: Derek was lying down on the couch, sleeping. Of course he wasn't able to see him before.

He was wearing one of Spencer's huge, grandpa-like sweaters, which Spencer really only used when he was too lazy to do the whole button-down + tie + cardigan + jacket thing - almost never. He didn't wanna wake him up, aware that it was very late; on the other hand though, seeing him like that made him want to hug him so bad, and feel his warm touch, and the subtle smell of his skin, and hear his deep voice that made his insides flutter.

Spencer quietly sat on his heels on the carpet, and stared at him with heart eyes for a while.

He couldn't resist the urge, and decided that it wouldn't hurt anyone if he carefully reached his hand out to stroke the man's chin with his thumb, light as a butterfly.

Derek suddenly woke up, gasping.

"Spencer-" he softly called out his name; a faint hoarseness in his voice. "You scared me" he added with the widest smile.

"I- I'm sorry, I couldn't just let you sleep." the other replied, smiling shyly before running his tongue in between his lips.

"I tried to stay awake waiting for you..."

"Yeah, I figured" Spencer giggled.

They stared into each other's eyes for a while; Spencer's thumb inching a little upwards to brush on Derek's bottom lip - both of them pretended he'd done that unconsciously.

Suddenly, he averted eyes and took his hand off of him. His smile faded away, as if the fight they had a few days before had popped back to the forefront of his mind, coming from some place until then hidden.

Spencer gulped and tucked his hair behind his ears; one of many nervous tics of his. There were still a couple things he needed to get off his chest.

"Listen, uhm...I don't want you to beat yourself up too much over this like you're the only one to blame for it- I mean, I'm not talking about the Board, I know you're already aware that they've always had some...you know, doubts, about you, wha-what I mean is that I made some mistakes, too" Spencer finally said. He got back to looking at him and sighed. "I said some really stupid- and mean, things."

Derek stared at him with sad eyes, slightly shaking his head. "Kid-"

"Wait, I owe you an explanation, please." Spencer interrupted him immediately, with pleading eyes.

Morgan nodded, not without a moment of hesitation, though.

"When I said that thing about you having an inflated ego and-and I, basically I implied that you are selfish...that's so not true, because what you did that night was the opposite of selfish, and all these things that you do sometimes, putting yourself at risk...that's irresponsible, but not selfish." he paused, as if rethinking what he'd just rushedly said.

"You're NOT selfish. That's literally one of the most untrue, dumb things I could've said. But- but I was scared! You know? And that's what I do when I really care, I-I can't help it really, I ramble and say stupid thi-"

"Spencer." Derek stopped him right there, placing his warm hand on his jaw.

"I know. All of this, I know. But what it's done it's done, keeping on feeling bad about it and wondering if things could've gone differently it's just not gonna do us any good." he swallowed. "If-if anything, it's just gonna break us apart. And I can't think about that. We're gonna figure it out, you know..." he lowered his voice to almost a whisper, too afraid of the weight of what he was about to say.

He started running his fingers through Spencer's soft hair, a gesture that neither could quite explain how it worked like magic to calm down both of them - ok, NOT true. Of course Reid could explain why physical contact was notoriously soothing. What he couldn't explain, was why for him that applied only to Morgan's touch.

"I just can't lose you over this." Derek said at last, once the magic had worked.

Spencer's heart melted like when you hold a chocolate too long in your hand. Like Derek had held his heart too long in his warm hand.

"You're not gonna lose me. Not now, not ever." he hurried to reply, right a second before leaning closer, cupping his boyfriend's face and pressing their lips together.

Derek wrapped his arms securely around him, without bothering to sit up; the hand already entangled in his hair slid a few inches downward to massage the back of his soft neck. He let Spencer's tongue tenderly slip into his mouth, squeezing him tighter to get deeper but keeping it slow and intense. He wanted to take his time to savour his sweetness, that velvet-like way only that man's tongue had to melt into his mouth during the most lazy, chaste and gentle kisses as well as the messiest, hottest, most needy ones. He hadn't felt one of Spencer's kisses for so long that he just wished it could last for hours.

The other's sugar mouth started to slow down until that gum-mushing kiss was over altogether.

Much to Derek's relief, Spencer only parted his lips from his for a few seconds, in order to steady his breathing, and started sprinkling quick pecks on his mouth right after; one leading to another like cherries.

Derek couldn't bring himself to stop him.

"I...missed you...so fucking m'ch" he kissed back, "you and...your stupid kisses" another one, " 'nd I...love you."

After maybe 10 of those suffocating pecks - not enough, if he had to be honest - Derek pulled back slightly.

"Come here." he ordered, patting his hand on the cushion beneath him and shifting closer to the backrest of the couch to make space for the skinny man.

Spencer nodded immediately and stood up to quickly kick his shoes off and untie his tie. He laid down onto his side next to Derek, facing him to keep staring into his eyes.

They stayed like that for some minutes, relishing in the quiet. Spencer was so tired he inadvertently closed his eyes, at some point, still with a hand resting on Derek's temple.

"Can't believe you didn't notice this sweater is yours." Derek mocked, keeping his voice down to a whisper but well aware that the other was still awake.

Spencer giggled and shrugged briefly, without even bothering to open his eyes.

"I did, actually. It just looks better on you."

Derek snorted. "Doubt it, pretty boy."

They drifted to sleep a few moments later, into the comforting warmth of each other's bodies.

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padalickingood · 6 years

Note

Can we please have more Loch backstory? I'm v intrigued and would appreciate a readmore dump

umm yessss absolutely Lmao. There’s actually….kind of a lot to unpack with his backstory, so I’m not even really sure where to begin with it? Hence why I prefer answering specific asks people have XD, but I could TRY and do a quick abbreviated readmore of his backstory, KEYWORD TRY

I’m definitely going to leave out a lot of the meat of his story and kind of go over the basics so if there’s anything that you would like me to elaborate on please let me know!!

not sure if I should do bullet points or little paragraph info dumps so uh we’ll just see what happens here

Firstly there’s a lot of stuff that needs to be prefaced to kind of understand the basics (like specifically surrounding the politics of the city and what not) that I honestly feel like i’ve repeated enough to make a decent amount of sense??? but if you need a refresher it’s all here . otherwise i’m just gonna start saying stuff and hope it’s easy to follow!!

---------

SO I guess I should start off by saying where he kind of sits right now in his story and kind of go backwards from there. Currently he is an exile of his home city of Elfenbein, effectively chased out of the city and left to die. Before that though he was the oldest son of one of the four most historic noble houses of the city of Elfenbein. He belonged to the house of rangers, with his father as the head and his step mother and 3 half siblings at his side. Loch was very much the bastard son of the family in most senses of the word. There were little to no expectations put on him aside from just being a good hunter and having a presentable presence in public. but he was also Ley’thas’ illegitimate son.

Before he married Dofrea he had a fling with a woman named Ranna. Their little fling wasn’t that long lived and eventually Ranna was forced out of the city after it being discovered what she was (psst...a werewolf). Of course she didn’t go without leaving a gift, the young infant Loch, with Ley’thas to care for.

Loch grew up in the noble life style of a Vallentin family member although he never really felt quite noble. His relationship with his father and step mother were strained at best in his youth and only grew worse as he grew up and his lycanthropy started to truly develop. The harshest years of his life were from his mid teen to young adult years where he endured a suffocating hold his parents had on him in their attempts to keep his secret hidden and ‘help’ rid him of the curse. In the end their attempts at ridding him of the affliction left him with nothing but deep emotional scars that he carries with him to this day.

Still he maintained his hearty attitude and looked to move forward. In his youth after his wolfy side started to really take root, Loch quickly formed an obsession to finding his birth mother Ranna, wanting to build a true connection with her in order to better understand himself. Through his desperate attempts at finding her he ends up getting involved in some less than kosher magics that eventually lead him to her. Their initial meeting was awkward and strained and the two didn’t exactly connect as quickly as he would have liked. Ranna’s attempts to distance herself from him was only met with determination from Loch to learn more about her. She reluctantly agrees to help him but so far they’ve only met less than a handful of times.

Aside from his rocky relationship with his family (which doesn’t even include his half-siblings yet) He was still very much an important member of the Ventis. As an actual family member he was able to climb up the ranks fairly easily and is renowned among other Vallentin recruits for being one of the best hunters…even though he would always split from the group. Regardless he did his job efficiently and without issue for the most part, and he actually prided himself on his ability to protect his city.

Loch has always been a protective person, but in his job description of killing monsters there is obviously a level of conflict within him. He would always do whatever he could to help people, but in that same vein he never indiscriminately killed monsters. His philosophy was to help those that needed it. The idea of simply killing something because it encroached on your space (which was essentially what The Ventis does) was never something that sat right with him. Even though he participated in Ventis hunts, he made a habit to make sure the creature they were after was either humanely lead to a place where it wouldn’t be any trouble or be taken care of if it truly only sought to harm others.

He doesn’t really think of himself as altruistic per-se but just someone whose there to help. Deep down hunting is in his blood and it’s a part of him that’s never really going to go away. One of Loch’s many faults is his addictive nature, specifically around fighting creatures and hunting and also his need to reconnect with his birth mother. All of those things tie into a major part of his person and drive him as a character (and ultimately could get him into a lot of trouble)

When he still lived in Elfenbein he had a few people he grew to knew as close friends. For the most part he wasn’t exactly the best at making friends, either being shunned as the illegitimate son of a Ventis family, not exactly having the best personality for making friends or just simply being ignored (which he kind of preferred). He had no issues with being unseen, it actually helped him get away with a lot more than his siblings at times and maintained his secret pretty well. Particularly after one bad memory with someone he was close to from his past he never really tried to make more friends.

of course sometimes people just enter your life and you don’t get to decide just how much of an impact they’ll have on you. At some point in his life (a few years before he leaves) he makes a habit of going to the lower tier of the city and frequents a tavern in his attempts to get the true pulse of the people and live a mostly average existence. The tavern owner, a young energetic and intense woman by the name of Laurel, ends up becoming one of his closest friends in the city. Loch quickly becomes a regular to the tavern and actually befriends laurel’s other siblings who work there as well. A particular sibling by the name of Rosen actually ends up being a bit of a kindred spirit to Loch as the two learn to understand just how much in common they have.

Unfortunately as life is want to do, the good times don’t last. A few years after he meets and grows close to Laurel and her siblings and he starts to actually get comfortable things start to fall apart. Eventually his father and step-mother discover his (what they deem) incredibly risky and careless behavior and Loch is left to face the consequences and endure the punishment laid out by them. Then not long after that (a few months) there is an attempt on his life. Unknown assailants armed with silvered weapons ambush him while his guard is down and Loch manages to barely escape with his life.

He barely manages to survive with the help of a stranger who finds him near death on the side of the road. After he recovers he makes the decision to leave Elfenbein behind, but more importantly leave the people he’s grown close to behind. And that’s when he start his search for ,honestly, a place to call home. and it starts with finding his mother.

———

welp! that’s scarily the spark notes version of his whole backstory. I hope you enjoyed! I didn’t really get into detail his relationship with his siblings and the nitty gritty of his parents cuz there is just…so much to unpack there. Also there’s the case of Alden and his close friend Rosen and Laurel who have had a huge impact on his life, but those are all honestly their own posts. So if you have questions about them i’ll be happy to share!

#'wants more backstory' just tells you about his whole life #woops #there's actually..... a lot that I left out #so i can still honestly elaborate on all of this #but i will spare you the optic migrane for now lol #anonymous #response #Anonymous

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mestos · 6 years

Photo

BnS act 9 was perhaps the worst thing ncsoft did to jyansei/cricket and OOF im still feeling it. as if cricket hasn’t cried enough in the whole story (when master hong dies, when hajoon dies, when they see master hong in a flashback, when the old pupils bid them farewell, when ayona dies) this was too much oh my god!!! this was sthe worst

spoiler ramble undercut

alright ill try talk abt the act in chronological order so starting off, 1) why chundoon’s voice so deep lmao. in kr it was such a soft boy’s voice then in NA its like hansen from fgo where they gave him a 40 year old chainsmoker’s voice SLKGJSDKGH

the other thing i liked tho from the start is the whole premonition thing where it ends with cricket’s death

me, internally: why is it ALWAYS zaiwei

but anyway i loved how this led up to going into the backstreets of the hao bazaar and beating up some punks, leading up to this golden exchange with yunma fei. i laughed SO HARD

empress: you were illegally street fighting in hao bazaar? cricket: (sweats) .....sorry empress: that’s cool i did too at one point

YUNMA FEI IS HONESTLY SO COOL. best empress (sorry ms cyg)

anyway the whole exchange with yunma fei was pretty nice, because she lets you read a letter. cricket’s hesitation was so cute! i can imagine them being rlly flustered, and yunma fei just shaking their head like “dude you saved the continent like twice? why wouldn’t you have authority” sgksjdgh

so the letter is basically dowager tayhu (her name was ak in kr? idk) passively aggressively asking for HM Hero to show up and yunma fei and cricket both almost agree to decline the invitation...till nuya shows up with news about ryu. then cricket does a complete 180 and is like “sorry. i have to go” which is kinda....omg....i get that u love your kids but its due to these impulsive decisions that lead to disaster!!! its why your efforts are erased in the end!! just decide to decline for once sweetie!!

even yunma fei tries her best to convince you, but you and her both know that there’s no stopping you once you made your mind to go somewhere. but yunma fei’s concern was nice enough, i love the friendship and bond you share with her-- she cares about you a lot, and so do you. other than the fact she is an empress, cricket is gentle with her too

anyway so you go to dasari palace, after a bit of a scuffle with an old captain who worked in the stratus empire, which led to a very pretty map as i posted briefly before. when u arrive at the banquet...everything is super suspicious lmao!! even from just stepping in you can feel that this was so set up to go against you. bns story rule of thumb: someone invites you to someplace, they’ll be after ur life.

one thing tho is i love how cricket is so caring of their students,, when jinsoyun was feeling sick, they offered to be by her side the entire time and hold her hand..but of course, soyun can’t take the room and runs off. cricket chases after her but is stopped by the guards, and i find their frustration rlly cute sdjkgh

then you meet the dowager and ryu! ryu, no memories ryu. who wasn’t hanging with ken after all LMFAO anyway he asks to spar with you and cricket is forced to act like this is the first time theyve met and u can feel the pain in their responses

so sparring with ryu was easy enough. afterwards general hondu wrecks the party, then cricket decides to go rest. but of course, not before seeing their lovely darling daughter soyun! they decide to check up on them and their concern for their wellbeing was sweet (a lot more doting in kr but i digress lmao)

afterwards, in typical blade and soul fashion, the minute u go into your resting room shit hits the fan and assassins, stratus soldiers, fiends all go after you and your pupils. after a frustrating (i’m a flame gunslinger! i don’t have any mobbing skills for crying outloud!) escort mission you meet choi jina, who i BARELY remembered but you meet her briefly at the start of act 2 and she helps you with the wraithbloom mess

she’s also pretty much jung hado genderbent but we won’t talk about that

with the help of choi jina cricket and fam go into a hidden chamber...a place they’ll be in for a while give or take LMAO. after some discussion, cricket decides “my amnesiac kid can’t be left in this shithole so i have to go back to him” (although in kr, cricket refuses but is eventually persuaded by bunyang) and choi jina and cricket go through....a fucking stealth mission, because after the murder of the minister (which was NOT cricket’s fault--they were just doing their job of eliminating demons) they become a wanted man!

now, it wouldn’t be so bad if i had a functional laptop but i don’t so, that shit took me an entire hour and a half. i gave up at some point and just walked on the ground rather than roof to roof, because that is the WORST stealth mission in the entire game!! why!!! holy crap!!! i could rant over and over about the stealth mission but ill save that for twitter...

anyway after stealth mission, you knock out ryu, choi jina carries him, and back in the hidden chamber you go. ryu suddenly ~remembers~ all the fun times and tells you dowager tahyu’s planning a war! cricket, not finding it suspicious at all that ‘suddenly son remembers me? wow!’ is like ‘ok ok my boy, take me away, i gotta warn, yunma fei’ then they act like prisoner and shit and it was hilarious with lyn walking sprite cause you can’t walk in front of him HGJKG

ryu catches a spy - one of yunma fei’s - and after cricket writes their letter, they give it to senha and go. then there’s another escort mission! when you’re back with the fam, its a team effort to go to the great dragon pulse. and hell, i wouldve just made ryu do all the fighting cause my computer really hated that whole mission and i barely got through HA

anyway, shortly before the escort mission, bunyang and cricket have a small argument--bunyang is always so worried about their master, and cricket can’t do anything about it; it’s their job to do all these things, they can’t refuse because of the bigger picture. cricket promises to come back safely and they can be a family again, and in general the whole argument is really heartbreaking because HA. guess what happens after the escort mission

before i get to that, yunma fei actually arrives - alone, so no jung hado with her - shortly before shit hits the fan. she plops through the dragon pulse and it leads to some horrifying revelations. she said that cricket’s letter told her to come alone because they are sick and need help, and cricket says they never asked for that? and then its a mess because now yunma fei, talus empress, is alone and it’s all in the dowager’s plan.

quickly running back to their students with the empress... but they were too late.

ryu betrayed them. and bunyang...

pays the price.

as if to make matters worse, cricket really was ill, they had been poisoned shortly before and

collapses.

they wake up in prison - goddamn! this is the third time i’ve woken up in jail! as if im not constantly falsely accused of crimes already! and witness an empress-to-empress showdown. yunma fei is really best empress. she sassed dowager tayhu hard LMAO

choi jina arrives and lets you and yunma fei out but cricket’s mind is in shambles because holy fuck!!!! my son just died!!! and unfortunately they cant find the time to mourn because 1) they’re in jail and they are breaking out like fugitives. the next segment is cricket and co. break outta jail to find the rest of their kids.

when cricket does find them its so OUCH because their kids are obviously traumatized - especially bunah!!!!!!!! the flesh and blood sister of bunyang who just fucking DIED and really ... it was just too much,

yunma fei tries her best consoling you but obviously cricket can’t think properly. but they don’t have time to be crying, because there’s too much on the line, so they swallow their feelings and keep moving.

i’ll continue on a second post...

#neesan texto #neesan shit art #neesans mindless text #bns #spoiler #bns spoilers #act 9 spoilers #OOF.#blade and mesos

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bartsugsy · 7 years

Note

sorry but can't help but dislike some Robert lines referring to baby as changing everything like I thought Aaron did? and saying he didn't care until baby like which bs what about Aaron and Liv like smh, and saying holding baby was best feeling ever like what about meeting/marrying the love of your life referring the product of the biggest mistake as all things thought Aaron was to Robert hurts tbh might sound harsh but can't help it like I hate this sl

i actually think they’d benefit from having more parallels between the baby and aaron personally, bc…

OK I HAVE HALF-FORMED META ON THIS AND I’M HUNGOVER AND SLEEPY SO I CAN’T REALLY MAKE MY BRAIN WORK WELL ENOUGH TO EXPRESS IT TODAY BUT I’LL JUST DUMP MY THOUGHTS HERE ON U

yes, the baby is a product of rob’s biggest regret (WHICH, INSANITY THAT HIS BIGGEST REGRET ISN’T THE DAY HE ACCIDENTALLY KILLED HIS SISTER IN LAW BUT HERE WE ARE), but it’s also his son and he has developed this instant love and attachment to the little squidge

aaron is obviously the love of robert’s life

and between aaron and baby squidge, we see the two people now who essentially mean the most to robert in the world (according to robert)

that’s not a bad thing, love isn’t a finite source lmao

and it’s his son - aaron would fuckin be so disappointed in robert if robert didn’t love squidge enough. god, i feel like rob being a shitty dad would be the biggest thing that would actually drive aaron away, in all complete honesty. so, to aaron, although the baby is a representation of their problems, i don’t think aaron could support a rob who ran away or didn’t try to be a dad

but look, i’ve said this a million times over, but if the baby didn’t exist they still would have fallen apart at some point - ROB LITERALLY SAID IN THE SCRAPYARD SCENE ON FRIDAY THAT HE BLAMED THE WHITES FOR HIM LOSING AARON BUT THAT HE KNOWS NOW THAT HE HAS NO ONE TO BLAME BUT HIMSELF - THIS WAS SOMETHING ROB DID

AND ROB AND REBECCA HAVING SEX WOULDN’T HAVE BEEN AS HURTFUL TO AARON AS IT WAS, HAD ROB NOT SPENT MONTHS PLAYING REBECCA IN AN ATTEMPT TO GET MORE MONEY AND POWER

AARON AND ROB ALMOST BROKE UP IN JANUARY AND SHOULD HAVE DONE THEN AND THERE - YOU DON’T ALMOST BREAK UP THE DAY BEFORE YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO ELOPE, GET MARRIED TWO MONTHS LATER OUT OF FEAR ABOUT PRISON AND THEN GO INTO YOUR MARRIAGE EXPECTING TO NOT HAVE SOME SERIOUS ISSUES

THEY NEVER RESOLVED THE JANUARY FIGHT, NOT ONCE

THEY WOULD HAVE BROKEN UP EITHER WAY

THIS BABY IS A PRODUCT OF IT, BUT IT’S NOT THE CAUSE AND IT’S NOT WHAT NEEDS TO CHANGE FOR THEM TO WORK

THE BABY COULD BE REVEALED TO NOT BE ROB’S TOMORROW AND MOVE OUT OF TOWN AND AARON COULD GET BACK WITH ROBERT AND THEY WOULD STILL HAVE PROBLEMS

BECAUSE THEIR PROBLEMS EXISTED LONG BEFORE THE BABY DID

and ok anyway, back to my point - rob loves this baby and more than that, knows that if he is in squidge’s life, he’ll have a direct influence over the way squidge turns out, as a human being. and rob truly believes that he destroys everything he touches.

so now here he is, trying to be in the baby’s life because aaron refused to let him run away

horrified that his own dad is right and that he’ll mess up the baby’s life too

but also determined to be a better person for the sake of lil squidge, because he needs to be, because he doesn’t want squishy to grow up to be as miserable and as messed up as he is, or to ever hold his own child and only feel ashamed

SO OK, THAT’S ROB’S CURRENT RELATIONSHIP WITH BABY SQUISHY COVERED

ROBERT LOVES AARON MORE THAN FUCKING LIFE ITSELF, WE KNOW IT, ROB KNOWS IT, AARON KNOWS IT - i don’t need to go over this, rob loves aaron

but rob as he is now is no good for aaron - rob can barely keep his own life together, rob still kissed rebecca bc he saw an easy way to make some money, rob lashes out and causes hurt to people he loves, rob makes awful, awful decisions at every turn

but the thing is, there was a time where, more often than not, rob was so so so good for aaron. during the abuse sl, rob was genuinely vital to aaron, one of the biggest and most important pillars of support aaron had. rob is the reason aaron found liv. rob stopped chas from fucking things up. rob took aaron to hospital, made him feel safe enough to talk, put aaron’s well being as his highest priority and never asked for anything in return and aaron, at that time, needed that.

and this, coincidentally, happened directly after robert was shot. robert’s shooting was ultimately the start of rob’s redemption - and if you look at rob’s actions between finding out aaron didn’t shoot him and the start of the abuse storyline, you see rob in a place where he, more than anything, wants to be back with aaron. but he’s plotting - he tries to buy the pub, he helps aaron with doug, he’s still sort of… he’s got the best of intentions, but he’s definitely still a lil scheme machine

but anyway, rob is (mostly, not always), hyper focused on aaron’s well-being during the abuse sl and then it’s all over and they get together properly and things are good and naturally, rob doesn’t have to be quite as I HAVEN’T SEEN AARON TODAY IS HE OK HOW IS HE DOES HE NEED SOMEONE TO SIT NEXT TO HIM QUIETLY BC I VOLUNTEER AS TRIBUTE, yk? aaron is doing better and they have liv to deal with and that’s fine, they’re trying to find their footing as a couple and things return to normal, sort of

and they argue constantly

and there’s rarely a moment where rob’s not doing something that aaron is inevitably going to yell at him for

rob leaves larry to die, tries to murder chrissie with a tree, vows revenge on the whites for andy and then, once andy’s name is cleared, keeps going because he’s found an opportunity to line his pockets some more and rob loves money

my point, in describing all of this (which obvs u already know) is that here we have present day rob, with a new little human who he suddenly feels an incredible amount of love for, and rob is vowing to change, to be better and suddenly he’s allowing himself to be ashamed of his actions, knows he needs to stop tormenting the whites - hell, larry offers him shares and rob’s instant reaction is “oh fuck”. the rob of two weeks ago would have done the most evil smirk in the world and then tried to up the share percentage somehow tbh.

and u have rob, pledging to squidge, that he’s gonna be a better man - something that rob spent so long trying to do with aaron during the abuse sl

and i think making the comparison between who rob was then and who rob is now with sebastian is important because these are the two people rob loves most in the world - aaron and squidgy - and rob’s idea of love at this level is sort of insane

if rob loves you, he’d do anything for you

anything except actually, really, genuinely change the way he needs to, because he doesn’t understand how to yet

so rob pledging to aaron that he would be better was from the best place within rob, and he meant it and he tried and on some level he did succeed, but it wasn’t enough and it wasn’t permanent enough

and the words he’s saying to sebastian are the same - they’re not enough, he doesn’t know how to change when so often his instincts are still bound to chasing money and power and making horrible impulsive decisions

ALL THIS TO SAY

I THINK THERE’S SO MUCH VALUE IN COMPARING THE WAY ROB LOVES BOTH AARON AND SQUIDGY AND THAT LINE ABOUT HOW SQUISH CHANGED EVERYTHING WAS SO GOOD BECAUSE

WELL, ROB SAID IT TO AARON RIGHT BEFORE HE ACCIDENTALLY PROPOSED

AND THEN ROB SLOWLY DESTROYED THEIR RELATIONSHIP

AND NOW YOU HAVE ROB SAYING IT TO SEB

KNOWING THAT IN TWO MONTHS, ROBERT IS GETTING HIS REDEMPTION STORY

NOT NOW

IN TWO MONTHS

SO IT’S JUST…

IT’S NOT THAT ROB LIED TO AARON ABOUT HIS FEELINGS, IT’S NOT THAT HE HASN’T MEANT EVERY ROMANTIC OR CRAZY EPIC LOVE-RELATED THING HE’S EVER SAID TO AARON, BECAUSE WE KNOW HE HAS AND WE KNOW THAT ROB LOVES AARON, THAT AARON IS THE LOVE OF ROB’S LIFE AND THAT HE DID, IN MANY WAYS, PROVIDE THE BEST IMPETUS FOR ROB TO CHANGE

BUT ROB HAS TIED HIS CHANGES TO AARON AND NOW TO SQUIDGE

AND THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS

BC WHEN HE LOST AARON, HE THREW THOSE CHANGES HE MADE AWAY TOO

AND NOW… IF HE LOOSES SQUISHY TOO? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO HIM

IF ROB IS GONNA CHANGE, IT NEEDS TO BE FOR HIMSELF

IT NEEDS TO BE

ROB AND AARON ARE NEVER GONNA WORK OTHERWISE AND ROB IS NEVER GONNA BE ABLE TO BE THE DAD HE WANTS TO BE, IF HE EVEN ENDS UP GETTING THAT CHANCE

so yeah… more aaron/baby squidgle parallels would be awesome tbh

last thing but (and i’ve said this before too) i love that the three people rob spoke to about his feelings were aaron, squishy and jack - the three absolutely most influential men(/boys) in his life. there’s a reason why rob’s relationship with jack is being so heavily drawn into this - just as there’s a reason why the birth of squishy brought aaron back into rob’s orbit. these are three people who rob has wanted to change for, for good reasons or bad.

idk, i just really like it as a storytelling piece. but that’s just me.

#meta #long post #here i go again....#but honestly i love this #ALL THE AARON SQUIDGEBASTIAN PARALLELS #rob x aaron #rob x seb #spoilers #answering anons

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y-o-u-n-g-4-e-v-e-r-blog · 7 years

Text

to the girl (i haven’t met)

(again, i tried. written in one go, so it’s probably bad lmao. don’t know if i’ll continue this or not. ((wenyeol))

or, alternatively, ceo!chanyeol falls in love with the girl from miles away.

chanyeol dies that morning. quiet and peaceful and beautifully—like he should be. he doesn’t think about the soft coffee spills decorating his suit like a tainted possibility to a life (he could’ve possibly had). or maybe the rumble of the ground as the clouds start to mourn. a happiness, probably. (for both of them) somewhere in the distance, a dead body is found. slaughtered and tortured and painted in care. she’s pretty. young and old and nothing at all—and no one will ever remember her name. (sad, really) wendy but this world—no, this world, has their forests run green and their rivers stop deep. this world—is ugly and transparent when the people are opaque. each strike internally marking their eternal deaths. in this world—there are no five friends or shitty atmosphere embrittled in coziness and niceness and home. in this world—everybody gives their heart out for a little bit of death. but the sky shines deeply with two moons instead of one. and when the night envelopes the other—that is when the universe changes. this is when chanyeol lives. “what’s someone like you doing out here?” he asks, the first time he sees her. (and they fall in love—easy. their meeting a catalyst (to the destruction that’ll come). it’s close to midnight. chanyeol takes his leave as the last person of the building; embedded in isolation. when he sees her—standing there, delicately poised on the fountain centered in their city. “watching the stars.” she replies (easy). “there are no stars.” he points to the blanketed sky above. the emptiness. the vastness—the— (possibilities). “i know.” she grins. and oh, oh, when he realizes her little joke; the little play on words. “i’m son seungwan.” she gets up, expecting him to follow. “and you?” “park chanyeol.” he chuckles. realizes how tall he is over her short stature. “what’re you even doing, flirting with strangers?” she grins. “not strangers; i just decided to gaze up at the night—you should try it some time. always helps me when i’m sad. or stressed. or nervous—“ she takes solace in the above instead: to calm her racing heart. “you were just in my line of view.” she’s sweet. of the bakery kind, smells of cinnamon and chocolate and sugar-coated lies. chanyeol decides to believe her—let’s himself follow around (just this once). “i come here often. maybe you’ll see me—maybe you won’t.” and she takes her leave as she came in—fast and slow and all at once. the next week for chanyeol breezes in without him noticing so. stress comes heavy and coffee hits in heavy demand. there are papers scattered like little planets in the flat plane of his desk, and chanyeol’s fingers tire at the sight of them. but—but (the sky glistens in something a little more than hope. blends in risks and optimism and it makes chanyeol believe—that everything will be alright, and maybe—maybe he feels better; looking at the sky when he’s stressed and nervous and “sad.” you should try it (sometime). sometime. they only existed in sometimes anyways. sometimes wendy came about and sometimes she disappeared. sometimes chanyeol was in love with the feeling (lovely, vigorous feeling. grabbed at his hands and never let go) and sometimes he was in love with the girl. “you came around for me.” she entices him with forever. a (possibility). “i knew you would come. i was just waiting all along.” “i know.” it’s friday. and chanyeol is tired and exhausted but it all turns to restless waste meeting seungwan again. “we should stop meeting like this.” “like what?” she grins. “in the middle of the night—sporadically. i never know when you’re coming and you never know when i stay. and maybe—maybe i want to know you.” “you’re park chanyeol. everybody wants to know you.” “yeah, but nobody knows me. they just want to know me because i’ll push out one day and do them some big favor. it would be nice, to be with you.” he confesses. she’s silent again for a minute. before beginning again, “meet me at midnight, chanyeol. you’ll know when to go.” and damn, damn, because chanyeol has never seen her more beautiful. “so this is where you work?” they’ve arrived at a bakery squeezed in between some shitty motel and an old dance club. “yeah. it’s always been me, seulgi, irene, yeri and joy. we’ve run the bakery now for…five years? i manage the cooking while they manage the rest.” she explains. “they would love to meet you. besides the fact that i couldn’t stop talking about you the whole week, so try not to get too overwhelmed.” she pushes the door to another universe—another world. where the windows bellows sunny skies above and the lights emblazon fire. the four girls turn their attention to him, when one—he presumed joy (“she’s the height of a giant compared to us. kind of embarrassing but very charismatic.”)—walks her way toward him. “ah, this is chanyeol, then?” joy asks. “wendy, i never knew you had a thing for older men.” “wendy?” chanyeol chuckles at seungwan, to which she says, “shut up, it’s my nickname. and chanyeol’s about..?” she leans her head to him. “twenty-five.” “i’m twenty-three. not much of an age difference.” “damn, how’d you even snatch up someone like him?” yeri teases. “she didn’t brainwash you, did she?” before seungwan comes and chases her around. “the name’s chanyeol then, right?” irene piques up out of nowhere. (“she’s always been beautiful—irene, i mean. picture perfect, she practically put us on the map. but she doesn’t even know how truly pretty she is; i think that’s the most beautiful thing about her.” wendy said to him, once. “i think you’re the most beautiful.” “stop it. you know you can’t tell me false lies, chanyeol.” (but he was never telling lies) immediately he sees where seungwan had come from, but he still thought nothing compared. “yeah. and you’re irene?” “unnie’s so famous now, even big fancy men know her! one day, she’s going to leave us all behind and pursue a life of better dreams.” yeri cries out. she doesn’t get herself saved from irene’s smack. “seulgi should be coming in any minute now, but i think she’s late.” the name sounds familiar, but he doesn’t prod any further. “probably with jongin, again.” oh. (“i’ve fallen in love, chanyeol.” kai had told him. one night, when he was parting ways with his company—back when chanyeol hadn’t been completely deserted (back when it was just the three of them) “she’s beautiful. and fearless. but won’t take any of my shit if she can. i—i know i love her, chanyeol.” he admitted. “what’s her name?” he had asked. the girl with no fear and all the hunger left inside her. “seulgi.” and chanyeol knew it was a lost cause then—when he had jongin get immersed in himself; in seulgi’s world.) their lives tie them in weird ways, chanyeol thinks. “ah, seulgi.” “you know her?” “yeah, she’s friends with an..old friend of mine’s.” “jongin, huh? ‘friends’ is just putting it mildly.” joy laughs. the dry you reserve for bitter regret. “she hardly comes here, anymore.” “it’s love, though, isn’t it?” chanyeol argues. “she’s just the victim.” “yeah, just the victim. then we’re just the casualties.” yeri responds sarcastically. and in a small bakery edged between a shitty motel and an old dance club reserved for another period of time older than the cage it holds—a bond is made. (a possibility is held). “oh..sehun, you say?” “an old acquaintance. i have to keep up appearances to get on his good side. the company needs it, anyways.” chanyeol tells wendy. their schedule has become routine; every midnight he waits for a girl to come. a bashful mess of what-he-want’s. “where is he now?” “i asked him to come here. to invite him to the bakery—it wasn’t my choice, but he insisted on going to some shrouded nightclub if i went with his decisions.” oh sehun, seungwan learns, is trouble disguised in a man. a young boy not knowing what to do—where to go—or who he is. oh sehun is a troubled child masked into the roles of a man; and seungwan can’t help feeling bad for him. “where’s the bakery again?” he taps his foot impatiently. “about a block away from here; it’s a short walk.” she replies. “better be.” he grunts. moves in the front of the two of them. leads his way through a crowd—to a destination he barely knows. “i see you’ve come with company.” “well, all the more the better then.” joy rushes for sweets in the back. and that’s when chanyeol sees it—sehun gawking at irene. mouth closed and eyes open. his attention is caught in her hands—and whether she knows it or not she can mold him into any character. “chocolate or red velvet?” “red velvet’s the best one.” wendy comments. “t-then red v-velvet.” and it irene smirks (the kind you reserve for when you’re in love). chanyeol isn’t so surprised when sehun comes variously throughout the week. he shuffles in and out their building with a pile of sweets; chanyeol fears he’ll get a cavity. but, he’s more surprised, when he encounters the coffee shop— there’s no wendy. no possibilities. just a ghost—a former shell of what it used to be. that night, there was nobody to hold. and chanyeol ventured off to the bakery again. “where did she go?” “don’t know. rather not say.” the girls are quiet this time. serious it seems, as their demeanor darkens and their tone starts gaining substance (a story—the kind of motivation that leads them to bravery). “what do you mean?” he asks. “before she left—she made us promise: you can’t possibly know.” they look for him as a cry for help; and chanyeol knows he won’t get an answer out of them—anytime soon. the next weeks pass by unnoticed. chanyeol moves in vague motion—systematic programming. when life moves on; he stays. young and rotted from the inside out. but sometimes. when he’s sad or nervous or scared. sometimes. it’s the sky that calms him. the over-wash of seungwan in the clouds as she sways the skies in stellar movement. “i’ll find you, seungwan.” he promises. (he’d bring the sky down for her if he wanted) it was sad, really. he bumps into her like an accident—but perhaps it was meant to be this way. “so sorry! i didn’t see which way i was going, and i totally ruined your papers! here, let me pick them up for you.” she bends down as he searches for seungwan: all his sleepless nights gone to waste. the woman skims over one of them. “son…seungwan. woah.” she blinks. (or maybe not). “hmm?” “nothing, just, a name i recognize. she’s missing?” “yeah, i’m trying to look for her. did you know her?” “i was one of her closest friends…or used to be. before i—“ she stops mid sentence. there’s an obvious amount of guilt on her face. an obvious amount of want. “i’m kang seulgi. ask me whatever you like.” she’s seen smoking a cigarette when chanyeol spots her again. figure leaning on the shadow of a lamppost. serenity stuck on her palettes of cool green sweatshirts and sleek black leggings. “i guess we have to start now.” she places herself on the benches now, and invites him to sit. “what did you want to ask?” “son seungwan..do you know anything that would motivate her to run away?” “seungwan, she was a kind friend. a good person. i’d say i could never imagine why anyone would want to try to get her, but it would be her own naivety that would reign in her downfall.” she exhales the gentle smoke. “how did you know her?” “fell in love.” he says to her—he’s known know. (maybe he’s always known). “we were going to be happy, her and i.” “ah.” seulgi says. “then you must know of her past.” “never mentioned it.” her perplexed look is the only answer. “there’s something you’re not telling me.” he says. “nothing i haven’t told you already.” seulgi states. “no—her past. you never told me; you guys never told me. what’s her past? and why can’t i know it?” “i’m sorry, if she really knew you she would never want you to know.” she whispers. “why can’t you tell me?” he can feel tears well up in his eyes. before the anger takes over. the impact of a punch hitting the wall full force. and it is when seulgi is afraid the most that she speaks the truth. “seungwan. she had a jagged relationship with her brother.” seulgi breathes. unsteadily. “was a creep. always taking pictures of her while she was sleeping—when she wasn’t looking. disgusting to even think about. but she had still loved him nonetheless, because it was what siblings were supposed to do. when we finally told him to let her go, he freaked. said that he’d be the last thing she’d see before—before she died.” “why did you keep this from me?” he presses. no anger—but twinged disappointment instead. “it was better you didn’t know at all. seungwan hates people seeing her as weak. she said she could handle herself, maybe—maybe we took it all for granted.” she glances down. overwhelmed with what she could’ve done. “i’ll find you seungwan.” he promises. (and means it).

#red velvet #exo #park chanyeol #son seungwan #wendy #fanfic #kpop #this is #actual trash #i tried #jongin #sehun #yeri #seulgi #joy #irene #ficlet #wenyeol

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yakumtsaki · 7 years

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Welcome, dear readers, to the much anticipated Union Season 1 finale, featuring the diverse cast of well-developed characters we’ve all come to love, such as cheating whore #1, cheating whore #2, and my personal favorite, cheating whore #3. Also starring purple Hannibal Lecter, Melody Tinker’s sunglasses, and Leon Trotsky. Last update saw the erotic tension between resident porn-king Gunther and his brother’s intended, Regina George Brittany Upsnott finally boil over, leading to this harrowing image:

GOOD TIMES. Let’s pick up right where we left off..

.. namely precious Gunther immediately jumping into bed with Melody not two minutes after his close encounter of the Brit kind. Guns has been suspiciously loyal and un-gross ever since we moved out of the dorms, but apparently his goal for senior year is to out-worst everyone else in the house. What a comeback!

Meanwhile Brit is depressingly bowling her frustrations away under the unforgiving desert sky. Whaddup Brit, you must be dealing with some pretty complicated emotions right now.

-What?? No way, I’m totally, totally fine!

I mean sure, why wouldn’t you be, it’s not like you’ve fucked literally everything up. After spending half of college dealing with fucking HaremGate all I wanted was an uneventful senior year I could speed through, but that would be too easy now, WOULDN’T IT.

-The pins are you well-laid out plans for the future!

UGH Brit seriously, this isn’t happening. As in we’re gonna pretend it literally never happened, you’re gonna marry Daniel, Gunther is gonna marry Mel, everyone will live happily ever after and that’s the last I’m gonna hear of this bullshit.

BRIT THE FUCK DID I JUST SAY

-I’m just heartfarting, GAWD

Yea you’re also about to fucking serenade him in front of Mel, have you legit lost your mind??? Is this how the rest of this year will go, me chasing you around cancelling your dumbass actions?

-Probably! lolol!

-Aww Brit, if there was an award for best couple, we would definitely win it <3

-Oh please, Gunther and I have you totally beat!

-Yea right Mel, bet you §10 me and Brit are gonna move in together before you and Gunther do!

-…So how you liking that pizza, Gunther?

-…Oh it’s good, Brit, thanks for asking.

Meanwhile it looks like my restless Jojo/Wyatt reconciliation efforts have finally borne fruit! Good job, Wyatt!

-It’s no job, I’m just following mon coeur!

Nice, follow it all the way to redemption!

YASSSS. I can’t stress enough how many times Wyatt had to apologize to get us to this point, I’m talking half their awake time for 3 days. God. The whole thing has been an extremely repetitive nightmare but finally we can put it to rest. Much like we put Frances! BURN IN HELL

Finally, the universe has responded to my desperate pleas. I will even forgive the creepy ass llama because for once the cheering is completely appropriate. Reunited and it feels so good! Especially for me because if I had to press the apologize button one more time istg.

Well.. The universe giveth and the universe taketh away. Literally can’t leave these dicks unsupervised for more than a minute before they start slutting it up. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU TWO

-Oh oh oh oh oh OH, caught in a bad romance <3

STOP SINGING INTO EACH OTHER’S MOUTHS. It’s time for drastic measures. Gunther is obviously unfamiliar with the concept of decency but maybe there’s still hope for Brittany..

..especially after Daniel gives her a high-class romantic evening! Looking great, Dan. Please stop picking your teeth.

-I’m so uncomfortable, my hair hasn’t seen the light of day since I was a toddler! I’m putting my cap back on.

DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. Also suppress your gag reflex + every instinct in your body because it’s time-

-to hit Londoste! OOH LA LA

-Brit, I feel like we’re.. ridiculously overdressed.

-No such thing, darling!

-I’ll be having the filet mignon and a glass of the Veronaville ‘64, thank you.

-And I’ll be having chicken nuggets and a detailed report of the working conditions in this bourgie hellhole.

-DANIEL YOU PROMISED

-Let’s raise a glass to us and our magical evening together-

-Yes, and this delicious food, stained with the tears of the working farmhand-

-Daniel, please.

-My beloved ice queen, even though the diamond engagement ring “tradition” is another completely made up, SHAMELESS CAPITALIST SCAM, I just couldn’t bear the thought of wounding your gigantic, aggressively materialistic ego.. Marry me, my darling, be my Nadezhda!

-OH baby of course I’ll marry you! Everything before this moment doesn’t count, right?

-I mean.. sure?

-Great!

Yes, what a wonderful, subtle night.

-Oh Brit, you make me the happiest worker alive, which of course is a completely paradoxical state under capitalism!

AWW MEANT TO BE <3 Finally we can put that gross, freckled chapter behind us.

THAT’S RIGHT YOU BETTER RUN

-WOOO congrats for not cheating for an entire day, Gunther!

Our greek house is currently at a pathetic level 3 and it’s not hard to see why. As if the graves of Jojo’s former flames weren’t enough to put people off, imagine walking by and seeing this.

This shit is still going on and has reached the hate-boner point where these two have permanent wants to see each other’s ghost. So much for nice points!

Also going on: this bizzare, inexplicable feud that appeared literally out of nowhere.

-SHUT UP WYATT MAGIC ISN’T REAL

-IT SO IS MAGIQUE IS ALL AROUND US

Finals are upon us! Only one semester of this fuckery left. There are of course two kinds of people, the kind pictured above..

..and my peeps.

Gunther, who hasn’t done anything college related since we were back in the dorms and Blue Meatballs et al were writing his papers, somehow still has a 4.0 gpa. Wow Gunther, what’s your secret??

-It’s no secret, I banged the half-alien professor.

Oh right lmao. You’re looking pretty down boo, what’s wrong?

-Man idk, I’m struggling with what might be like.. legit feelings for Brit.

WHAT. WELL PUT THEM BACK WHERE THEY CAME FROM GUNTHER AND DRINK YOUR SORROWS AWAY LIKE AN ADULT. GOD

YOU TOO BRITTANY. ISTFG YOU ASSHOLES ARE NOT FUCKING THIS UP ANY FURTHER.

CAUSE HERE’S WHAT HAPPENED TO THE LAST PERSON WHO WENT OFF SCRIPT. Looking good, Fran!

…………………………poor Brittany obviously suffered a stroke at some unspecified point in time. As if she didn’t have enough problems.

SO. CLOSE. We just have to get through this one semester without the entire charade imploding, is that too much to ask????

APPARENTLY YES. GODDAMMIT GUNTHER

-The heart wants what it wants.

What DOES it want tho, Selena, cause last time I checked you were in love with Mel you GIANT ASS

-Yea, hell if I know! Huhu!

IF I HEAR YOU PEOPLE HUHU ONE MORE TIME

In equally distressing news Mickey Dosser was passing by and I invited him in just to see if he would go straight for the bubbles, which he of course did..

..a move so irresistible that Wyatt had to stop and swoon over him literally in the middle of his millionth Jojo apology. I’ve honestly never had a sim court death as persistently as Wyatt, dude straight up WANTS TO DIE.

-HOW DARE YOU WALTZ IN HERE AND TRY TO SEDUCE MY BOYFRIEND RIGHT BEFORE MY VERY EYES YOU VILE DISGUSTING SLOB

-Wut

-GET. OUT. BEFORE I STUFF YOU AND PUT YOU ON MY PORCH FOR HALLOWEEN

-Wyatt.. I sensed it was you.

-Of course, Jojό <3 I got your message, why did you send a raven, I’m just upstairs-

-SILENCE. I invited you here, to my favorite place on this entire wretched planet, the center around which revolves my very existence..

-..to ask you a very important question that I want you to CAREFULLY consider, taking into account that you’re standing next to the graves of the last people to betray me..

-Wyatt Monif, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you. Almost from the earliest moments of our acquaintance, I have come to feel for you a passionate admiration and regard, which despite all my struggles and your whoring around, has overcome every rational objection, and I beg you most fervently to relieve my suffering and consent to be my husband. Also to please ignore my brother woohooing in the hot tub behind us and ruining the moment.

-MON DIEU JOJÓ, OUI, OUI A THOUSAND TIMES OUI!! <3

-Wyatt.

-Oui? <3

-Please don’t make me murder you, ok? Promise?

-Never, Jojό!

AW, what a beautiful engagement you guys, I’m tearing up.

AND FINALLY, IT’S OVER. Gunther seriously graduated summa cum laude, how in the fucking world I legit dk but whatever!

The last supper.. The Union bros have all graduated and I’m gonna speed-play the rest through their last year. Also Daniel and Melody are bffs now, I didn’t even know they were talking but nice.

Time to go back where we came from! Ah, all grown up. It seems like yesterday they were toddlers surviving on cat food.

Brit is the youngest of the bunch and has the whole house to herself after Mel and Wyatt graduate, a situation she takes advantage of by ALMOST CHEATING WITH THE FUCKING LLAMA. BRIT ISTG

Finally, it’s time for Brit to leave our gross, incestuous cocoon. We’re gonna need a placeholder for the next generation tho, so as much as it pains me to say..

..it’s Frances time. Bitch literally scares Brit as she’s trying to resurrect him, way to make me doubt my merciful decision Fran!

Ugh great. Welcome back, Frances. I really did prefer you dead.

Yea, can’t make any promises there. I don’t know what kind of wave of kindness overcame me, but I felt bad for Fran being all alone so…

-I’M BACK BITCHES

Can’t believe we wasted 20k on these assholes but whatever. Time to grow up, Brit!

Oh yea, looking good! Taking the ‘on Wednesdays we wear pink’ rule to extreme lengths.

And we’re out of here, leaving the place in the capable hands of Fran and Ti-Ning, who immediately reconnect for a hot tub celebration of life.

So normally you’d think that would be the end of it and we’d get to the heir vote, right? RIGHT?

WRONG. Please bear with me through this incredible bullshit. So I’m taking the heir vote portraits, specifically Jojo’s, and everyone else is hanging around on the edges of this empty photoshoot lot, when suddenly the fight cloud appears. At first I think it’s Wyatt/Daniel aka business as usual but then I make the horrifying discovery that it’s.. DANIEL/BRIT.

As expected, the MINUTE I looked away, Gunther/Brit went for it in plain sight, leading to the eruption of a massive shitshow. I’m like ok w/e we’re basically in pre-heir vote limbo so it doesn’t count, I’ll just quit without saving. But THEN I take a look at Daniel’s panel.. AND SEE THIS:

I’ve literally no idea WTF HAPPENED, HOW IT HAPPENED, WHY, WHO MADE THE FIRST MOVE but the fact is that right after catching Gunther/Brit cheating, Melody and Daniel somehow got together even though they have never given any indication of being into each other and have one sole pathetic bolt. My best guess is 4-nice-points Melody went for it as a revenge but seriously WHAT THE FUCK

GOOD TIMES. At this point I’m obviously even more like ‘I’M GONNA QUIT WITHOUT SAVING’ so I’m just taking these pics for shits and giggles, but THEN I look at Gunther’s panel… and see probably the most disturbing want I’ve ever come across:

OK THEN. Reminder that Gunther’s secondary is PLEASURE so there’s literally no explanation for this shit except for legit. true love. As much planning as I did for these couples I’m like who am I to refuse A ROMANCE SIM’S engagement want???? I mean I also planned for Jojo to marry Frances and we all saw how that went. So I decide to save the game, even though it’s kinda unorthodox since it didn’t happen during actual gameplay but w/e, you just can’t ignore shit like that!!

So I revisit the lot the next day and am faced with a shitshow of cosmic proportions. The whole thing is like a bizzaro parallel universe, I mean you have Brit and Dan legit looking like they crossed over from the set of NLL..

..Gunther and Mel heartfarting over each other while also wanting to beat each other up..

..this torrid affair out in the open..

..AND WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IS. I changed their turn-ons and now they have 3 bolts cause it felt like they really got the short end of the stick but I still can’t get over this bullshit happening in the first place. At least Jojo and Wyatt are having a good time! I guess at this point there’s only one thing left to do..

..simultaneous break ups! The couple that dumps their fiances together stays together.

Moving on to simultaneous crying/sighs of relief. If it seems like I’m halfassing this by not writing any dialogue it’s because I am, but I legit can’t, the whole situation is just too absurd to dramatize.

And now to complete the wife-swap..

Incredible. Now, hold on to your seats, everyone.. because the red ring memory..

IS NOT GUNTHER’S. WHAT IN THE NAME OF HELL. BRIT GOT A RED RING FROM HER ROMANCE SECONDARY BUT SOMEHOW GUNTHER DIDN’T??? Honestly I’m hardly a romantic but. TRUE LOVE. Or a glitch. Let’s go with true love.

And there you have it. The end of generation 1, which will live in the annals of history as the one where literally no one ended up with the person I had in mind for them and I might as well haven’t been there for all the control I had over these assholes.

NOW. TIME TO VOTE.

WHO WILL IT BE????

Head over to my lj for a handy guide to voting + the link to the poll. Thank you all for reading! <3

#ts2 #union legacy

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