#and just. consider what my life has turned into

[mairon-goth-minion]

so I took some liberties with the prompt whoops word count: 1542

I remember the day I first met Cain like it was yesterday. It was a coincidence, as his parents took him to a ball the instant he turned eighteen despite his being sick. The same ball I attended after I’d just finished my training. He was young, I was younger and I was foolish, but foolishness is a trait shared by most seventeen years old, I believe. Nevertheless, not knowing who he was, not knowing that his station was far above mine and that he was not the son of a knight as I was but the heir to a duchy, I approached him.

Despite his feeble demeanor, he… shone. Was it his golden locks, falling as a river down to his waist? Was it his emerald eyes, brighter than any jewel I’d ever seen? Both? I do not know.

So I went towards him. At first, he looked surprised to see someone reaching out. Did he not know just how beautiful he was? His first words to me were “‘Who are you?’” ‘Hector of Redenbrough, but you can call me Hector. Or Hec. Whichever you prefer.’ I grinned. ‘Hector…’ he said, his voice but a whisper. ‘I am Cain.’

At first, I had believed that the lack of last name came from an embarrassment on his behalf, and had believed him to be born in a rather low station. I could not have been more wrong.

‘Well, Cain, will you offer me this dance?’ I could have asked anyone else, but I didn’t want to. It was all about Cain, and it always has been ever since. His cheeks flushed, he took my hand. It was plainly obvious that he’d never danced before, but I gently led him. I did not care about the amount of times he stepped on my foot. He was too light for it to hurt. It was a happy moment.

The second time we met, he was twenty five, and still terribly sick. A gaunt, pale thing. His father had passed and he had become the Duke of Sulinard, as well as my superior. I think that he recognized me, when he looked at the legions of knights standing in front of him, kneeling. Why else would he have chosen me to be his bodyguard? Was it a coincidence?

I remember the surprise that I’d felt that day, both because of learning his identity as one of the most powerful men in the Kingdom and because I was selected amongst so many others.

“‘Congrats, Hec!’” were words I heard many times, and I remember getting drunk in a tavern with friends, celebrating my new position.

It was a year later that things began growing sour. Cain’s health was rapidly declining, as were my hopes.

See, Cain and I had become friends. I don’t think that he ever had anyone to talk to before I came along and took him to the dance floor, and I didn’t mind spending my days talking with the most intelligent and beautiful person I’d ever met. He fascinated me. He was gentle and frail, but held within him an infinite curiosity for the world, and I could have spent my entire life merely watching Cain talk of things he’d read in his books. So when he was too weak to leave his bed, I became desperate.

I knew that his illness had no cure, and what could I, a mere knight, do when his rich family had tried everything? Well, there are certain things that desperate men will do when all hope seems lost that not even the vilest of humans would even consider. I made a pact with a vampire.

Following rumors and whispers, and after months of research, I found Hara in a small shepherd’s village, where she fed off of sheep. She was starving, and I offered her my blood in exchange for Cain’s life.

Hara didn’t want to, at first, having promised herself never to kill, but I was a desperate fool, and I would have done anything for Cain. So she drank, and drank, and drank, for the first time in her life. I think that she would have drank all of my blood had I not stopped her. When I brought her to Sulinard, Cain was on his deathbed. I was nearly too late. Everyone had lost hope, and he laid on the cold sheets alone with no one by his side.

I took his icy hand, pressing it to my lips, tears staining my cheeks as Hara sank her teeth into his neck. Was I a monster for doing this to him? After all, I had condemned him to an eternity of thirst for my selfish desire to remain by his side.

When she was done, Hara turned to me, grief in her eyes. ‘You know what you made me do, don’t you?’ ‘I do.’ ‘He will never forgive you.’ ‘I do not care if he hates me for ever, as long as I can see him smile one last time.’ I was compelled to honesty. ‘I do not care whether or not he lives an existence of misery, if it means that I know that he breathes still.’ ‘You condemn him to a life of shadows.’ ‘I know.’ ‘He will be hated.’ ‘I know.’ ‘He will be alone.’ ‘I know.’ Hara shook her head, furious. ‘You are the true monster here.’ ‘I know.’ She left, and I never saw her again. Perhaps she still feeds on sheep in faraway villages.

When Cain woke up, I cried of joy. My master had opened his eyes. ‘Hector? Wh- Why am I alive?’ When I told him what had happened, I saw horror in his eyes. ‘You did what?’ His voice was sharper than my sword, and I nearly flinched. ‘You are an undying, My Lord.’ ‘No,’ he said, crestfallen, looking truly afraid. The fear was soon replaced by a glorious fury I’d never seen before in his eyes. ‘WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME?’ ‘I couldn’t lose you.’ Grief flooded in his eyes as I said those words. ‘So I will be the one to lose you?’ Clenching my teeth, I nodded. ‘No,’ he whispered once more as the room became suddenly dark. ‘You will remain by my side, Hector, and you may never leave it.’ Shadows twirled all around us, lashing at my skin, leaving red bleeding wounds, but I did not scream nor feel any pain, too lost was I in his eyes, darker than the void of a starless night. ‘Magnificent…’ I murmured as the shadows tore open my chest and entered my heart. It was more pain than I’d ever felt before, shooting through my body as poisoned needles in my veins, and I screamed and screamed and screamed, crying of pain. Yet through this I laughed. I was happy that it was Cain who was hurting me. What a sick and twisted monster I am.

When I opened my eyes, I was in his bed, blood covering the sheets, and he was standing next to me, his clothes and mouth tainted red. Whose blood was it? I would have said mine had my flesh not been completely void of scars or wounds. I soon learned that it was the other members of this household whom he had killed. His mother, his sister, his servants, all of them. I did not mourn any. All that mattered was that Cain was still standing.

The shadows apparently had left a black mark on me, on the back of my neck. As long as he lived, I would too, and I was to belong to him forever. I was the happiest man alive.

For centuries, I stood by his side, as his bodyguard, as his friend, as his companion. I killed any person daring to try and harm him, and I did whatever he asked of me.

I am different than I was. At first, I remained a proud knight despite my belonging to a vampire, only slaying in duels or war. But now? I am no better than an animal. When I fight, it is no longer as a knight. I am a dog, a vicious one, a dog that’s lived for centuries by his master’s side. When I fight, it’s with my teeth and nails, in alleyways where no one can see the bodies of those whom I mutilate.

Cain still resents me, I think. He sent me to war many times. I have seen horrors. I have seen trenches of blood. I have seen the loss of faith. I have seen what Men can do when they let go of morals. Cain resents me but still he loves me, sharing with me his bed and body.

“‘Who are you?’” His words from a distant past echo in my ears, sometimes. Today, my answer would be ‘I am yours’.

You are the knight bodyguard of a vampire, but as the centuries went by it became less and less noble. Now you're mostly just a glorified servant, and when you fight it is not an honourable duel, it's shanking someone in an alleyway.

[gpcwsl]

“Oh, you think you’re so funny, aren’t you?”

May i request lia walti x walti!reader where the reader is wally's mischievous and chaotic younger sister who left home quietly to surprise her sister in London and when lia is not home she hides until lia comes back from her training to surprise her big sister who almost had the fright of her life. And it is here where the arsenal team is introduced to lia's chaotic sister who cannot be more different than her.

Thank you

Lia Wälti x Sister!Reader

You think you’re so funny?

WC: 582

MasterList

Warnings: short, maybe?

My first sister fic! You can request sister fictions, them I can do.

Song: If we have eachother - Alec Benjamin

You step out of the taxi, grinning as you take in the quiet London neighborhood. The sun is shining, and there’s a slight chill in the air, but you’re too excited to care.

You adjust the straps of your backpack, bouncing on your heels as you stare at the house in front of you. Lia’s house. Your big sister’s house.

She has no idea you’re here.

You hadn’t told her you were coming, and in true you fashion, you had snuck out of home without a word, booked a flight, and now stood at her doorstep, ready to execute the perfect surprise.

Lia was calm, responsible, and organized. You, on the other hand? The walking definition of chaos.

You press your ear to the door—silence. She must still be at training. Even better. That gives you time to set up. Fishing the spare key from your pocket (Lia really should know better than to trust you with this), you let yourself in.

The house is neat—of course, it is—so you make yourself at home in the only way you know how: dramatically. Shoes kicked off, backpack tossed onto the couch, and then you get to work.

Hiding.

The goal? Give your big sister the fright of her life.

You consider the classic jump out and scream method but decide it’s too predictable. Instead, you crawl under the dining table, perfectly hidden by the chairs and the tablecloth. Now, you wait.

After what feels like forever (and a slight nap on the floor), you hear voices approaching. The front door opens, and laughter fills the house.

Wait. That’s more than one voice.

“Come in, come in,” Lia says, sounding relaxed. “I’ll make tea.”

You peek out ever so slightly. Lia, still in her Arsenal training gear, is pulling off her jacket, chatting with—oh, wow, half her teammates?

You recognize a few of them. Kim Little, Leah Williamson, Katie McCabe… okay, so this is about to be an even bigger audience than expected.

Perfect.

As they move further inside, you stay hidden, holding back your laughter. The moment Lia steps past the table, you strike.

With a sudden burst of movement, you grab her ankle.

Lia lets out a scream so loud it could wake the dead. She jumps at least two feet in the air, arms flailing, nearly knocking over Kim in the process.

The room falls into stunned silence.

Then, slowly, you crawl out from your hiding spot, grinning up at your sister.

“Surprise.”

Lia’s hand is over her chest, her eyes wide as she gasps for air. “WHAT THE—?! You—?! What are you doing here?!”

“Visiting!” You beam, standing up and stretching. “Missed me?”

Her teammates, who had been frozen in shock, suddenly burst into laughter.

“Jesus Christ, Wally, you okay?” Leah wheezes, gripping the back of a chair for support.

“That’s your sister?” Katie says, wiping a tear from her eye. “You two are nothing alike!”

Lia groans, rubbing her temples. “No kidding.” Then, turning to you, she narrows her eyes. “Oh, you think you’re so funny, aren’t you?”

You shrug, still grinning. “Well, yeah. And clearly, so do your friends.” You gesture at her teammates, who are still cracking up.

Lia lets out a deep sigh, but you see the small smile tugging at her lips. Despite almost suffering a heart attack, she pulls you into a tight hug, mumbling something about you being impossible.

And just like that, your surprise mission?

A complete success.

[f1shart]

thinking about buzz beating up the curious brothers again. like what do you mean

but buzz is older than them?? time to dissect this (and by that i mean overly complicate it!!)

Making Sense of Buzz Grunt Beating the Shit Out of the Curious Brothers (and Loki)

I went into this assuming that, considering how old Buzz is, him beating up the Curious brothers + Loki as a teenager was statistically impossible, especially considering their age in actual human years—but was I wrong? Is it actually possible that Buzz did fight them within the time he spent as a teenager?

First, some supporting information.

Age Conversions Based on Adult Lifestage

Buzz: Day 14 or 43 years old Pascal: Day 10 or 38 years old Loki: Day 9 or 36 years old Vidcund: Day 6 or 32 years old Lazlo: Day 1 or 25 years old

These aren't even my own age headcanons for them (except Buzz's which is surprisingly accurate), just calculations. If you want to know how I got them then feel free to ask 😇

Evidence Provided by Memories

As seen in the picture, Buzz fought everyone "as soon as he aged up." However, it's possible he just has no memories of early teenhood.

Pascal similarly gained the memory as soon as he aged up. This idea is more plausible with him because he was accepted into private high school after the fact. Sure, in gameplay, this can happen as late as the last day as a teenager, but I doubt this is what Maxis was trying to convey since they literally handpicked these memories. Meaning: Buzz beat him up in middle school…?

Loki's only teen memory is losing the fight.

According to the Sims Wiki, Vidcund has no memory of Buzz beating him up (how hard did he hit him?)

Similar to Loki and Pascal, Lazlo's first memory as a teenager is getting beat up by Buzz.

Is This Possible In Normal Gameplay?

Disregarding any other family memories that arose around the time (I do NOT want to try to decipher the entire Curious timeline), the fight memories are in fact possible with their Sim ages.

The teen lifespan in The Sims 2 is 15 days long. Buzz is 4 days older than Pascal, 5 days older than Loki, 8 days older than Vidcund, and 13 days older than Lazlo.

Ensuring that everyone still falls within the teen lifestage, I made a table of the earliest and latest possible ages everyone could have been when Buzz attacked:

Converting their teen days into human years, Buzz either beat them all up as an 18 year old OR slowly picked them off until age 17 which is right before he kissed Lyla. None of this, however, is possible based on the initial age calculations.

Buzz's Attacks Based On the Adult Age Conversions

Buzz is 5 years older than Pascal, 7 years older than Loki, 11 years older than Vidcund, and 18 years older than Lazlo. There are two ways we can interpret their memories: either the Curious brothers + Loki were teenagers when Buzz attacked, or Buzz was a teenager when he started attacking them.

On the basis that Buzz is still a teenager, and assuming each fight happened in close proximity to one another, he specifically had to have been 18 years old when each one happened. This makes Pascal a 13 year old, Loki an 11 year old, Vidcund a 7 year old, and Lazlo…a newborn. ☠️ Alternatively, Buzz may have started younger and continued fighting until 18, the only teen year he could have possibly encountered Lazlo in.

If that seems implausible, then maybe Buzz wasn't a teenager and instead beat the boys up as soon as they turned thirteen. This would make him 18 for Pascal, 20 for Loki, 24 for Vidcund, and 31 for Lazlo. (Side note: Tank and Ripp would have been born by then.)

Conclusion

Regardless of whether you base it on Buzz been a teen or the victims being teens, him beating up Lazlo looks pretty bad. And if you go by gameplay rules, everything flows surprisingly well. According to normal gameplay AND real-life age conversions, Buzz is a big meanie who beat up at least one kid as a legal adult, at least with the age conversion system I used…

Me personally, I think he was college-aged when he started bullying them. (Or maybe they attacked him? Plot twist.) Of course, what I discussed weren't the only possibilities, but they should give a good idea of how things actually went… and maybe they can inspire your own headcanons! ^_^

this is such a useless pseudo-essay LMFAOO

[elliewrites77]

Pride and Anger

this is probably the only angst i've written to be posted, like ever. and it came to because I was thinking about Ace and Luffy, and how sad (and unnecessary, ill die on this hill) his death was. so, like most sane people, i will continue to pretend Portgas D. Ace is alive and well, and my poor Luffy did not have to go through something so traumatic by himself. I hope it doesn't come off as too angsty or all angst. that's a fun word lol

He was alive. Portgas D. Ace was alive.

Critically injured and on the brink of death, sure. But alive.

He was really alive and in front of you.

And you were furious.

You were furious with him, with the marines, with Garp, with Roger, with everyone. And that was exactly why the members of the Heart Pirates stayed as far away from you as they could get. The only person you had spoken to with even a little bit or kindness had been Law, and that's just because he saved their lives. Both boys had been on their last breath when Law saved you all in Marineford, and you were grateful to him, truly, but you were far too enraged to worry about your manners with his crew. You snapped at anyone that suggested you leave them to rest, and when Luffy finally woke up, you snapped at them when they said you should go up with him, to the island of warrior women. You refused to leave Ace's side.

You felt bad, sure. You wanted to be with Luffy, to comfort him as much as you could. But every time you tried to move, your body froze. It was keeping you there, with Ace. You knew Luffy would understand, and at least he wasn't alone. You were thankful for Jimbei too.

You keep replaying the events over and over in your head. Especially the part where Ace almost turned back. He almost turned around to fight, to die for some words. Pride, that's what almost took your closest friend. Pride over a pirate who had already given his life for Ace. Pride that almost make him break his promise to you. His promise to come back.

You don't know what stopped him, really. Maybe it was Luffy, or maybe his brain caught up with his ego. Maybe it was so he didn't disappoint Whitebeard or his crew. Maybe it was you. You didn't know, and you might not ever know. Because he was alive, yes, but it wasn't impossible for that to change, according to Law. And the fact that you still have hope but know that it could be in vain, that also made you furious.

So you stayed. You sat there, staring at his form, the wraps covering his body making him look like a mummy. You stayed, listening to his faint and abnormal breathing. You stayed, praying to whatever higher being their was that he woke up. That he survived. Because you'll be damned before if you didn't get a chance to tell him how angry you were with him. He has almost left you, just like that. Sailing away is one thing, dying is another. He wasn't allowed to die. He had promised that he wouldn't.

You were angry that he had spent his whole life thinking he wasn't loved or able to be, when you had spent your whole life loving him. More than a friend, more than a partner in crime, more than two kids who had a lot in common (including shit dad's). You were angry with yourself for never telling him, too.

You finally moved when Law came into the room, telling you that you really needed to speak to Luffy, now. Something about his look told you he was right, and your body actually let you move.

Hugging the boy you considered family was a relief, and you were close to crying into his bandaged shoulder as he hugged back. You didn't want to let go, didn't know if you could hold it together if you did. But after a few minutes, you heard him utter words that reignited your rage.

You saw the fear an most of the Heart crew when you pulled away, fire in your eyes. You saw how each one of them stepped back as if you were a bomb ready to blow. You didn't care, simply looking from Rayleigh to Luffy and back. Luffy knew the look in your eyes, and returned it with a serious one. That alone is what made you pause.

"Why?" You whispered.

"Ace almost died, he still might. I...I couldn't protect him..couldn't protect you. I have to get stronger, for you, for Ace, for the crew. If I'm ever gonna survive the New World, I have to be...better."

You wanted to argue, wanted to make him stay. 2 years? You didn't want that. But you knew Luffy, knew his determination was strong, and his desire to protect his loved ones was even stronger. So you just hugged him again.

"I swear, Luffy, you better be safe. I don't know what that weirdo is gonna have you do, but please just, try not to get hurt." You said in his ear, feeling him nod as a response. You understood, really, but that wouldn't stop you from worrying.

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It had been a few weeks since you said goodbye to Luffy. You were staying with Law, not having anywhere to go for 2 years, and since Ace still needed to be cared for, it only made sense. But everyday he didn't wake up, your hope waned. Law noticed this, offering to teach you more medical stuff or training you to fight better just to give you something to do. Both things helped, for a few hours. But at the end of the day, you returned to that cold room, and returned to watching his motionless body, the only thing telling you he was alive being the slow rise and fall of his chest.

Your anger was still there, yes, but it has lessened over time. At this point, you only held onto it because it made the hurt of everything that happened a little more bearable. It helped to talk to him, even if he couldn't hear. You confessed your anger, your worry, your pain, and your love. Getting it out, even if you were practically talking to yourself, helped you cope.

Which was good, considering he didn't wake up for an entire year.

He was in a coma for a year. His outside wounds, the small ones, healed. But there was still a large scar on his chest that would always twin with Luffy's. But he was slowly, slowly getting better, according to Law. And that gave you more hope, despite how long you waited.

And as you prepared yourself for another year of no change, you were surprised when Bepo enthusiastically approached you as you were returning to the polar tang, after spending the day on an island to gather supplies. It took a moment for your brain to process the animals words, but as soon as they did, you dropped everything.

"He woke up!"

You rushed onboard the submarine, pushing past everyone to get to that familiar room. But you froze inside the doorway. All you could see was Law, standing over Ace and talking lightly. You could barely hear his voice as he replied. It was cracked, and slow, clear that he was gathering himself after not speaking or being awake for so long.

You remained frozen until Law, who somehow knew you were there, slowly moves out of the way, revealing Ace to you once more. You had gotten so used to his 'sleeping' state, that it shocked you even more when you met his eyes.

They were dazed and tired, which was perfectly understandable. But they lit up at the sight of you, something you immediately noticed. It made you tear up as you forced your body to move closer. Law silently left the room.

Neither you nor Ace broke the silence, or eye contact. It felt like a dream, to be staring into his eyes, his beautiful eyes, once again. A dream you had for a year straight. At that thought, you did break from his gaze, your eyes running down the rest of his body in assessment, as if he grew new wounds just from waking up.

"You gonna keep checking..me out..?" He spoke gruffly, a small smirk on his face. The tears fell from your eyes instantly, and you dropped to your knees beside his bed.

"You stupid, dumb, beautiful idiot. You left me sitting here alone, for an entire year. A year of not knowing if you'd ever wake up. And the first thing you say to me is that?" you spoke through sobs, a laugh making its way through as well. You laid your head on his arm, feeling him slowly lift his other one to pat your head as you cried onto him.

"m'sorry angel...I..don't remember everything yet but...ink-dude told me a bit.." he spoke slowly. you could tell the words were hard for his throat to let out.

"Law. He's that captain of this ship." You informed through another teary laugh, lifting your head from his arm and instead grabbing his hand in yours. "don't push yourself right now. It's honestly probably best if you..don't remember everything for a little. You still need rest."

He used his free hand to rub your cheek, wiping away some of the tears still slowly rolling down your face.

"too..pretty to..cry" you heard him mumble. His eyes looked sad. You could guess why.

"You're too pretty to die. Remember that next time." you joked slightly, smiling at him. You were happy, so so happy, that he was actually awake now. Right now, that outweighed everything else.

He chuckled, coughing right after. You gave him a glass of water, holding his head to help him drink. When he was done, he laid it back down and closed his eyes for a moment. You stroked his hair, admiring him. Sure, he had his eyes closed for a year, but this was different.

His eyes fluttered open, and he gave you a smile.

"I heard ya...you know.."

Your brows furrowed. You thought he couldn't hear.

"You heard me every time?"

"I don't...think so...all I remember is...you talking about stopping for...medical gloves...and saying you love me."

Your eyes widen, and you freeze once again. That had been that very morning, before you left to get supplies. You did tell him you love him every day though, feeling like you'd regret it if you didn't. But you were okay with doing that when you thought he couldn't hear. Now that he had, you were nervous.

"I uh..I didn't...um.." You stuttered. He chuckled lightly, gripping your hand again.

"It's okay, angel...I..I'm sorry, about..this..about everything...but I need...need you to know that...I love you too." He confessed, bringing your hand to his lips to kiss the back of it. Tears came to your eyes again, along with a smile, and you closed your eyes resting your forehead against his.

For the first time in over a year, you weren't angry or scared. You were at peace.

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masterlist

[theliliesofthevalleies]

The skeletons wordlessly point around the room as if the reasoning should be obvious. Obviously he had been put in the summoning circle.

Danny puts a hand over his mouth and closes his eyes in contemplation for a moment. He takes in a long deep breath and looks at the skeletons. “And.. no one thought to.. I don’t know.. alert me to the fact that there is a whole living person in the offerings room..?”

All the skeleton’s just shrug and go back to pampering the now stunned and speechless Robin who is staring up at Danny from where he’s seated on the floor. “You’re a lot younger than I thought you’d be. Honestly that’s a relief. I was worried I was being offered as a bride to the ghost king that was going to be like.. old and gross..”

“You were offered as what?! You’re fourteen?!” Danny stares at the teenager no older than himself and crouches down. “What do you mean as a bride for me? Why would they even assume I wanted a child bride…?”

Robin, now removing his mask because, fuck it why not if he’s stuck there might as well, shrugs as he looks back up at Danny now showing him that he is in fact Tim Drake. “Don’t know.. don’t really care. I would however like to get home. My.. adopted father and his other adopted adult child are probably looking for me and considering that the last time a Robin went missing he was murdered.. they are probably losing their minds..”

“Right right.. uh.. well.. I have to ask Clockwork about how to send you back.. because the Infinite Realms sort of identifies you as.. my property now.. and the fact that you are technically dead..” Danny looks like he’s ready to hurl from the thought but he straightens up.

Tim looks up at him with wide eyes and blinks a few times. “I’m dead..?” He pat his own chest and looked at himself all over.

“Only technically.. you were given as an offering.. the only way to send a living being to the Infinite Realms is to kill them.. or half kill them.” Danny thinks for a moment. “Honestly when we get you back. You may only have a half life.. you may be a Halfa now..” He shrugs and starts leaving the room. “Come on. I’m not going to force you to stay locked in here. Though.. m aybe put your mask back on. Some of the residents of the Infinite Realms still like to keep your identities a secret for themselves..”

Tim stands and places his mask back on his face trying ti ignore the reeling in his head from finding out he had apparently died. “So. You already knew who I was..?”

Danny with a dejected look and tears welling up in his eyes. “No.. I was one of the residents that enjoyed keeping your identity a secret. But it’s okay.. you just proved my theory so…”

Tim nods. “Right.. sorry about that..”

They make their way to Clockwork and find out it will take a while to send Tim back home. In the meantime Danny and Tim spend a lot of time together getting to know each other. Danny brings Tim a change of clothes when he comes back from school one day.

By the time they manage to navigate the stupid rules of the Infinite Realms two months later Tim is on the verge of his fifteenth birthday and has realized feelings are starting to bloom in his chest when he sees Danny. They agree to stay in contact and when Tim is dropped off on the day of his fifteenth birthday he leans over and kisses Danny’s cheek before running off to find Bruce and Dick who, as he predicted had in fact lost their minds.

It takes a lot of explaining to get them to calm down and understand that he A.) didn’t run away and get murdered. B.) didn’t die at all. Which Tim knows is a lie but he doesn’t want Bruce and Dick to freak out about him dying. And C.) is very much alive despite the blood loss of cult members trying to sacrifice him to what is essentially a god.

(Idk if op wanted this to turn into ship but I’ve been reading a lot of DannyxTim fics lately and that’s where my brain went. Lol.)

Bonus. When Jason comes back as Red Hood Tim can tell because Jason has a similar aura to Danny. Danny comes to visit and when he sees Jason he tells Tim that Jason has corrupted ectoplasm and he’s not sure how but his core is shattered. Danny and Tim set out to help Jason and they manage to clean his ectoplasm before Jason can bring his who reveal and revenge plan to fruition.

Once his ectoplasm is clean and Danny got his core into mostly one piece Jason all but loses interest in his big dramatic revenge plot so Tim brings him to the manor one day and Bruce freaks out.

Danny and Tim explain to Bruce what was up and that now that his ectoplasm is clean and his core is mostly whole now would be the best time to talk to Jason about all the things Jason is angry about.

(Side note I really like the idea that Danny helps Jason right after the first time he meets him and it freaks Jason out because, why the hell is the replacement and his boyfriend randomly finding him and why is the replacement’s boyfriend shoving his hands in his chest. It sort of freaks him out. But it helps the Pit rage so he honestly lets it happen.)

DPxDC Prompt #17

There is a room Danny's Keep he set up shortly after defeating Pariah Dark. It became necessary when the broader magical community realized Pariah had be defeated and therefore a new King took his throne. Danny found himself briefly bombarded with waves of attempted summonings.

Which, the summonings themselves, wouldn't have been so bad. Turns out people can't just drag the King of Ghosts to themselves on a whim. Danny has to actively accept a summoning to get pulled to it. And if he just decides "No," the pull and whispers go away. No problem there.

No, the problem is the offerings. And sacrifices. The things that people put in the circle as payment for even attempting to summon him. Like having to put a quarter in the payphone just to listen to it ring and ring and ring as the person on the other end of the call doesn't pick up. Since the summoning magic regarded these things as belonging to Danny even if he rejected the summons, they usually ended up just materializing in front of him if he didn't go to them.

Which, okay. It was funny that time he got to end a fight with Vlad very fast when a whole gold bar materialized and dropped on his head. And the food was nice sometimes when it was late and everywhere was closed and his parents had left samples in the fridge to contaminate everything into animation again. But the goat head dropping from the ceiling onto his desk during on of Lancer's English tests was not appreciated. Even if it did get the test rescheduled and the whole school shut down for a few days to investigate the "potentially satanic activity."

So, yeah, it was a bit of a problem. Fortunately, it was a problem with a relatively simple solution. Danny set up an inbox. With a bit of help from Tucker and Pandora, and a couple tips from Clockwork; all summoning offerings and sacrifices would now go straight to the dedicated room in the Keep.

And! As a special touch, the summoners would also get a chipper, automated voice saying, "The Ghost King you are trying to summon has more important things to do than answer you right now. Please leave a message in the circle with your name, date, location, contact information, and reason for summoning. The Ghost King will get back to you at his earliest convenience." Sam's stupid fancy girl gala voice had been perfect for that little message.

It was the perfect solution. Danny no longer had to deal with randomly materializing offerings putting his secret identity at risk. Pariah's skeletons, who had been antsy for something to do now that they were no longer bent under the thumb of a cruel tyrant, were instructed to take care of all the offerings; making sure everything was always cleaned up and put away. And all Danny had to do was stop by periodically to check in and "Officially respond" -ie, write a fuck off note- to the summoning messages (Clockwork's insistence).

A perfect solution. Up until Danny checked in one day to find the skellies pampering a whole ass boy. No. Not just any boy. Danny recognizes that costume.

"Why is Robin here?"

[undiagnosedcruelty]

“You Talk in Your Sleep”

Pairing: Bf!HanJisung x GenderNeutral!Reader

Summary: Jisung has always known you had weird habits, but nothing prepared him for the absolute nonsense you muttered in your sleep. Tonight, however, your sleepy confessions give him some unexpected entertainment.

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Genre: Fluff | Comedy | Slight Romance

Content warning: teasing, domestic, Jisung being a menace

Word Count: 781

A/N: I just knew that I needed to write something crack related to jisung🙏

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EVERYTHING WRITTEN IS PURELY FICTION───NOTHING DIRECTLY RELATES TO ANY REAL LIFE EVENTS.

Jisung never considered himself a light sleeper. If anything, he could pass out in the middle of an earthquake if he was tired enough.

But lately, you had been keeping him awake at night.

It wasn’t intentional, of course. It’s not like you were kicking him in your sleep (at least, not tonight), or stealing all the blankets (which, okay, was a recurring problem, but he’d long accepted his fate). No, the real issue?

You talked in your sleep.

The first time it happened, he thought he imagined it. He had been drifting off when you suddenly rolled over and muttered, “The ducks are planning something…” before nuzzling into his shoulder like you hadn’t just said the most suspicious thing ever.

Jisung, half-asleep, had blinked at the ceiling and whispered, “What.”

You didn’t respond, obviously, because you were asleep.

He had to physically hold himself back from shaking you awake and demanding an explanation.

After that, it became a pattern. Sometimes, it was just soft murmurs that he couldn’t quite catch, but other times, it was crystal clear nonsense.

“Why do giraffes have such judgmental eyes?”

“If I had a superpower, I’d want unlimited pancakes.”

“You ever think about how weird elbows are?”

Each time, Jisung desperately wanted to know what you were dreaming about. And each time, he resisted the urge to wake you—though it was really difficult.

But tonight? Tonight was different.

Tonight, he was casually scrolling through his phone in bed when he heard you shift beside him. He barely glanced up, used to your restless movements.

Then, clear as day, you sighed in your sleep and whispered:

“Han Jisung is so hot.”

Jisung’s phone slipped out of his hand and smacked him right in the face.

He froze. Blinked. Processed.

Did you just—?

He whipped his head toward you, but you were completely knocked out, breathing softly, oblivious to the earth-shattering revelation you had just bestowed upon him.

A slow, mischievous grin spread across his lips.

“Oh?” he whispered, voice dripping with amusement. “Is that so?”

He turned onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow. His gaze flickered to his phone, a brilliant idea forming.

Carefully—stealthily—he reached for it and opened the voice recorder. He hit record, holding it close to you.

“Go on, my love,” he murmured dramatically, fighting back laughter. “Tell me more about this incredibly handsome and talented Han Jisung.”

For a moment, you were silent. Jisung pouted. Maybe it was a one-time thing—maybe he wouldn’t get any more gold.

Then, in the softest voice, you mumbled:

“…ugh, I love him so much.”

Jisung’s soul left his body.

His heart combusted into a thousand tiny, happy pieces. His brain? Malfunctioning. His entire existence? Changed forever.

“Oh my god.” His voice came out in a hushed wheeze. “Did I win in life? Is this my reward for all my suffering?”

He grinned down at you like an idiot, barely able to contain himself. His heart felt so full, like it might actually burst.

But then—

“…but he’s kind of a loser.”

Jisung gasped, physically clutched his chest, and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling in pure betrayal.

“What the—EXCUSE ME?!” he whisper-shouted, shaking your shoulder lightly. “Wake up right now and explain yourself!”

You groaned in response, shifting slightly but not fully waking.

Jisung huffed dramatically. “No, no, no, you don’t get to just roast me in your sleep after confessing your love. That’s illegal.”

You cracked one eye open, squinting at him blearily. “Huh?”

Jisung wasted no time, shoving his phone in front of your face. “I have receipts.”

You blinked at the screen, still half-asleep. “What?”

“I caught you red-handed,” he said, waving the phone. “You called me hot, admitted you love me, and then immediately disrespected me.”

You frowned. “I… what?”

“I recorded it.” He tapped the screen. “So don’t even try to deny it.”

Your brain, still booting up, took a solid five seconds to process the situation. Then, realization dawned on your face, and your entire body tensed.

“…Oh my god.”

Jisung cackled. “Oh, now you’re awake.”

You groaned, flopping back onto your pillow and covering your face with your hands. “I hate myself.”

“Well, I love you,” Jisung said cheerfully, flopping down beside you and wrapping his arms around you. “Even if you slander me in your sleep.”

You peeked out at him through your fingers. “…Can I bribe you to delete that recording?”

He gasped dramatically. “Bribe? Do you think my love is for sale?”

“Yes.”

“…Okay, yeah, fair,” he admitted. “But! This is too valuable. I have to keep it.”

You groaned again, rolling onto your side to bury your face in his chest. “I regret everything.”

Jisung just laughed, holding you closer. “Nah, don’t regret it. You just confirmed what I already knew—deep down, you’re absolutely smitten with me.”

You sighed. “You’re still a loser, though.”

Jisung kissed the top of your head, grinning. “Yeah, but I’m your loser.”

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[aloysiavirgata]

prompt:

byers: why dont you tell scully you love her?

mulder: i cant, she'll think im only saying it because were having a baby.

They’re eating wings at Kislings in Baltimore. Langley won’t touch blue cheese, something about spores and a fungal internet, so Mulder had to order ranch as well. Like a fucking pussy.

Frohike crunches hard on a log of celery. “You talk to her yet?”

Mulder scowls. “I observed that she would look like a bowler hat if turned sideways. She declined to be amused.”

Frohike groans. “Jesus. Did you really?”

Mulder scowls with increased vigor. “Dear Abby never covered this particular situation, my apologies. Should I approach the lady in white tie or a morning suit?”

Byers pokes at a pile of discarded chicken bones. “Have you tried being honest with her?”

For a man who has spent most of his adult life in pursuit of the truth, Mulder looks deeply disgusted.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Even Langley is contemptuous at this. He rises, disappearing into a darkly recessed corner that houses Ms. Pac-Man.

“You’re an idiot,” Frohike observes into the mound of chili fries. “UPenn, Oxford. The dumbest motherfucker I know. I’ll marry her tomorrow; when do the courts open? Mulder, with all due respect and forgetting the rest of it? HAVE YOU SEEN HER?”

“Shut up,” Mulder says, weary.

Byers, ever gentle, squeezes his friend’s shoulder. “Why don’t you just tell Scully you love her? She knows, or she wouldn’t have asked. And you know, or you wouldn’t have agreed.”

Frohike snorts around a mouthful of fries. “He’s hopeless, that’s why.”

Mulder glares into the middle distance. “I can’t. She’ll think I’m only saying it because we're having a baby.”

Byers, with his deep, wise eyes. Byers, with his own human credential. “I know,” he says, soft. “I know why you feel safer to say that. But Christ, Mulder. You two aren’t teenagers. It’s not a Cracker Jack engagement ring and a quickie wedding. You could have something here.”

Mulder looks back at his friend. At his friends. Behind Langley’s absence is his love for Scully; for Mulder. Frohike’s gnomish tenderness, Byers’s deep, endless honor.

Mulder imagines himself at 17 - a pregnant Catholic girl, a debt of honor. Imagines how his parents would throw money and secrecy at it all without ever once considering the people involved.

He throws a hundred on the table.

He pulls out his phone.

[jisungiesvzz]

Hii I absolutely loves ur fanfic!! Would u mind doing a jeongin version on unexpected?

I'm sorry this took so long to write! I’ve been having heavy workloads from school and I've also had writers block ugh. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :).

Crossing Lines

Idol!Jeongin x fem!reader

Warnings: kissing lessons, making out, neck kissing

Word Count: 2.7k

Author's Note: please let me know if I missed warnings, otherwise enjoy :)

Versions: Hyunjin // Han // Jeongin

—

The afternoon sun streams through Jeongin's apartment windows, casting golden hues across the living room. You sit cross-legged on the floor, a small velvet pouch between your fingers as you rummage through its contents.

"I still can't believe I forgot my jewelry," you sigh, carefully examining a silver chain with a small fox pendant. "You sure you don't mind me borrowing yours?"

Jeongin smiles from his position on the couch, phone in hand as he scrolls through his social media feed, hoping to run across a good hang out spot near you. "What's mine is yours, y/n. Three years of friendship earns you jewelry-borrowing privileges."

Giving him a soft smile, you hold up one of his earrings to the light, a simple silver hoop that catches the sunbeam and sparkles.

"It's scary how well you know me," you laugh, sorting through more pieces. "Like, you knew I'd forget something tonight."

"That's why I always keep extra stuff around for you," he replies, setting his phone down. "I am fully prepared for Hurricane Y/N."

You playfully throw a small cushion at him, which he catches effortlessly. You can't imagine your life without these little moments—the casual hang outs in his apartment, the inside jokes, the way he always seems to understand exactly what you need.

"Hey, remember that truth or dare game at Chan's party last week?" Jeongin suddenly asks, a tint of curiosity in his voice.

You groan, instantly knowing where this was heading. "Please, not this again."

"I'm just saying," he continues, sitting up straighter, "I was surprised when you said you've never been kissed. I mean, you're twenty-two!"

You feel your cheeks warm, lowering your voice to a near mumble. "So? Some people are late bloomers..."

"It's not a bad thing," Jeongin says quickly. "I just... I don't know, I just assumed you had."

You shrug, suddenly finding the jewelry in your hands incredibly fascinating. "I guess I've just never found the right person... or the right moment."

A weighted silence settles between you, unusual in its intensity. You can feel Jeongin's eyes on you, but you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"I could teach you."

The words hang in the air, simple yet earth-shattering. Your head snaps up, certain you've misheard.

"Teach me what?"

Jeongin's expression is unreadable, a mix of nervousness and something else you can't quite place. "How to kiss. If you want."

You feel like the air has been sucked from the room. This is Jeongin—your best friend, the person who holds your hair back when you're sick and who can make you laugh until your sides hurt.

"That would be weird, wouldn't it?" you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shrugs, attempting nonchalance though you can see the tips of his ears turning pink. "Only if we make it weird. It's just a skill, like teaching someone to drive or cook."

"A skill," you repeat skeptically.

"Yeah," he says, sliding down from the couch to sit across from you on the floor. "And then when you meet someone you actually want to kiss, you'll be ready."

You bite your lip, considering the possibility. The idea sends butterflies swarming through your stomach, but there's also a strange sense of... curiosity.

"Nothing would change between us?" you ask cautiously.

Jeongin shakes his head firmly. "Nothing. We're best friends first, always. This would just be me helping you out."

You take a deep breath. "Okay."

"Okay?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

"Yes. Teach me." You confirm, your heart pounding through your chest.

Jeongin moves closer, his movements careful and deliberate. "So first, it helps if you face each other," he explains, his voice lower than usual.

You readjust your position, suddenly hyperaware of every inch of space between you and him. The jewelry laying forgotten on the floor beside you.

"Usually there's eye contact," he continues, and you force yourself to meet his gaze. His eyes—those familiar eyes you've looked into a thousand times—now seem different, deeper somehow.

You tried convincing yourself that it’s just kissing lessons but something about kissing him feels more intimate than it should.

"Then what?" you whisper.

"Then, one person usually leans in. Sometimes both." His hand comes up to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, and you feel your breath catch. "Sometimes there's touching. Like this."

His fingers trace a feather-light path along your jawline, coming to rest at the nape of your neck. The sensation sends shivers down your spine.

"And then?" Your voice is barely audible now.

Instead of answering, Jeongin leans forward, closing the distance between you. His lips press against yours, gentle and questioning. Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, your hand tentatively reaching up to rest on his shoulder.

The kiss is soft, a brief moment of connection that ends almost as quickly as it began. Jeongin pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours.

"That's the basics," he says, his voice rough around the edges. "A simple first kiss."

You nod, unable to form words. Your lips tingle where his had been, and you find yourself wanting more—a realization that both thrills and terrifies you.

He's your best friend. Right…?

As if reading your thoughts, Jeongin speaks again. "Then there are... deeper kisses."

"S-show me..." you whisper, surprising yourself with your boldness.

This time when he leans in, there's an urgency that wasn't there before. His lips capture yours more confidently, one hand cradling your face while the other slides around your waist, drawing you closer. You respond instinctively, your fingers tangling in his hair, gently tugging at the strands.

What started as a lesson quickly transformed into something neither of you anticipated. The kiss deepened and you feel yourself being gently guided backward until you're lying on the floor, Jeongin hovering above you, your lips never parting.

When you finally break apart, both breathing heavily, you stare up at him in wonder. His hair is disheveled where your fingers have been, his eyes dark and intense.

"Innie…" you breathe, not knowing what else to say.

Without a word, he dives right back in, capturing your lips with a newfound hunger. There's no hesitation now, his movements filled with a hunger you’ve never seen before — his body pressing down against yours making you gasp into his mouth. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, any thoughts of keeping distance between you long forgotten.

"There's more I can teach you," he murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with want. Before you can respond, his mouth begins to trail along your jawline, leaving a path of fire in its wake.

"Different types of kisses," he explains between soft pecks along your skin, "are for different sensations."

Your breath hitches as his lips reach the sensitive spot just below your ear. Instinctively, your head tilts to give him better access, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"Like here," he whispers, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. Then his lips press against your neck, gentle at first, then with increasing pressure. The sensation is entirely new to you, electric pulses shooting through your body with each kiss.

"Innie," you gasp, overwhelmed by the feeling.

His hand slides up to cradle the other side of your neck, a small smile forming on his lips at the nick name as his thumb gently strokes your cheek, his kisses become more intense. You feel the gentle graze of his teeth, followed by the soothing warmth of his tongue against your pulse point, a soft moan falling from your lips as he repeated the action.

"Some people," he murmurs against your skin, "are more sensitive here than on their lips." As if to demonstrate, he places an open-mouthed kiss at the space where your neck meets your shoulder, causing you to arch involuntarily against him.

You're lost in sensation, any remaining thoughts about this being just a lesson completely gone. Your hands roam across his back, pulling him closer as he continues his thorough exploration of your neck.

When he finally returns to your lips, the kiss is different—deeper, more confident, as though he's staking a claim. You respond with equal fervor, the taste of him now familiar yet intoxicating.

As Jeongin pulls back slightly to look into your eyes, a small smile plays at his lips. "So," he says softly, "how was your first lesson?"

"I- I don't know what to say," you softly gasped, still recovering your breath.

Placing a soft peck on your lips, he sits up off the ground, gently taking your hand in his. "Come on. Let's go finish our original plans for the day."

Heart beating through your chest, you let him guide you off the ground and through the front door — the heated moment hanging in the air. A small part of you wishing it hadn't ended.

—

The next evening, you were in Stray Kids' dorm, squeezed comfortably between Jeongin and Hyunjin on the large sectional sofa. Chan had insisted on a movie night—something about needing to unwind after their intense practice schedule—and naturally, as Jeongin's best friend, you were included in the invitation.

What the others don't know is how everything changed between you and Jeongin just twenty-four hours ago.

The memory of his lips on yours, on your neck, makes your cheeks flush even now. You've spent most of today exchanging knowing glances, the anticipation of seeing him again had your stomach in knots all day.

"Everyone good with the movie choice?" Chan asks, remote in hand as he navigates through Netflix.

You barely register what film he selected—some action thriller the group has been wanting to watch. All you can focus on is Jeongin's proximity; the subtle scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from his body next to yours.

"Y/N, want some?" Felix offers you the bowl of popcorn from across the coffee table.

"Thanks," you murmur, reaching for it. As you settle back with the bowl, Jeongin shifts closer, his thigh now pressed firmly against yours.

The lights dim as Chan starts the movie. Under the cover of darkness, Jeongin's hand finds yours, his fingers intertwining with yours between your bodies where no one else can see. Such a simple touch shouldn't send your heart racing, but after last night, everything is different.

Twenty minutes into the film, you're not following the plot at all. How could you, when Jeongin's thumb is tracing lazy circles on the back of your hand? When his breath occasionally tickles your ear as he leans over to whisper some joke about the movie?

By the thirty-minute mark, his hand had moved to your knee, resting there casually as though it belongs. The weight of it burns through the fabric of your jeans.

Halfway through the movie, during a particularly intense action sequence that has everyone's attention fixed on the screen, Jeongin's hand begins to move. Slowly, torturously, his fingers trace upward along your thigh, just far enough to make your breath hitch, gently squeezing the flesh.

You shoot him a warning glance, but the innocent smile he gives you in return is betrayed by the mischievous glint in his eyes. He knows exactly what he's doing.

His hand retreats momentarily when Changbin gets up to refill drinks, but as soon as everyone is settled again, it returns—this time sliding to your inner thigh, his touch feather-light but unmistakably close to where you could feel yourself growing needy. Your body responds immediately, heat pooling low in your abdomen, his hand now venturing into territory that makes your pulse quicken and your thoughts get jumbled up.

When his fingers inch higher, gently squeezing your thigh, you nearly jump. It's too much—the darkened room, his members just feet away, completely oblivious, and Jeongin's touch threatening to unravel you entirely.

"Bathroom," you whisper, standing abruptly. Jisung pauses the movie, looking up at you questioningly.

"Just need a quick bathroom break," you explain, forcing a casual smile. "Don't wait up, I've seen this part."

You slip away from the living room, heart hammering against your ribs as you make your way down the hallway. The cool bathroom tiles are a relief under your feet as you close the door behind you, leaning against it and exhaling slowly.

"Get it together," you mutter to yourself, turning to face the mirror — your reflection showing flushed cheeks and bright eyes.

Splashing cold water on your face, you hear a soft knock at the door.

"Y/N?" Jeongin's voice is low, just audible enough for you to hear. "You okay?"

Taking a deep breath, you open the door just enough to see him standing there, concern etched across his features—though the darkness of his eyes tells another story.

"I'm fine," you whisper. "We should get back before they—"

Before you can finish, Jeongin has slipped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The bathroom suddenly feeling much smaller with him in it, the air between you charged with tension.

"What are you doing?" you ask, voice sounding small.

"I couldn't help myself," he admits, closing the distance between you. "Sitting next to you, not being able to really touch you... it's driving me crazy."

"Your members are right outside," you remind him, even as your body betrays you by leaning toward his.

"They're absorbed in the movie," he counters, his hands finding your waist. "Besides, I told them you weren't feeling well and I was checking on you."

"And they believed that?"

A small smile plays at his lips. "Felix gave me a knowing look, but the others are clueless."

Your protest dies in your throat as Jeongin presses you gently against the wall, his body flush against yours. Any restraints from before evaporated into thin air as his lips capture yours in a kiss that's hungry and desperate.

Your hands immediately find their way into his hair, pulling him closer as his tongue meets yours. This isn't the careful instructional kiss from yesterday—this is raw need, months of pent-up desire finally breaking free.

"I've been thinking about this all day," he murmurs against your lips, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt to touch and squeeze the bare skin at your waist. "About you."

Your response is lost as his mouth moves to your neck, finding the sensitive spots he discovered yesterday. The sensation pulls a soft moan from you, which Jeongin quickly silences with another kiss.

"Quiet," he whispers, a teasing glint in his eye. "Unless you want everyone to hear."

The thought of being caught should terrify you, but instead, it only heightens everything—the racing of your pulse, the heat of his touch, the urgency of your kisses.

His hand slides back to your thigh, higher than he dared in the living room, his fingers tracing patterns that make your breath catch. When he presses his hips against yours, you can feel exactly how much he wants you.

"Innie," you gasp as his lips find a particularly sensitive spot below your ear.

“Fuck, y/n.” he grumbles against your neck, softly nipping and licking at the skin there, eliciting more moans from you.

“Innie, ngh, you’re gonna l-leave marks,” you whined, your defiance falling short as you arched into him.

“We should stop,” he mumbles between open mouthed kisses.

You both knew you should, but neither of you make an effort to move.

A sudden knock on the door makes you both freeze.

"Y/N? Jeongin?" It's Chan's voice. "Everything okay in there? Movie's almost over."

Removing himself from your neck, Jeongin clears his throat. "We're fine, hyung. Y/N just felt a little dizzy. We'll be out in a minute."

"Okay," Chan replies, though you can hear the question in his tone. "We're thinking of ordering food after."

Footsteps retreat down the hallway, and you both release the breath you've been holding.

Jeongin's forehead drops to yours, a small laugh escaping him. "That was close."

"Yeah," you let out breathy laugh. "We should get back."

He nods, stepping back reluctantly, but not before pressing one more lingering kiss to your lips. "This isn't over yet," he promises, his voice low with intention.

As you straighten your clothes and Jeongin attempts to fix his hair, you catch his eye in the mirror. The boy who was just your best friend yesterday now looks at you with an intensity that makes your knees weak.

"Ready?" he asks, hand on the doorknob.

You nod, knowing that while you're about to return to a room full of his members and pretend nothing has changed, everything has. The line you crossed yesterday isn't just crossed—it's been erased entirely, replaced by something new and thrilling and completely uncharted.

As Jeongin opens the door, his hand finds yours for just a moment, giving it a squeeze before letting go. It's a promise of what's to come, once you're alone again.

And suddenly, you can't wait for this movie night to end.

[fish-o-cola]

Oh woah, I've never had someone tag me in one of these before! Thanks, absolutely I will indulge you 😊

7) Usually some of that herbal fruit 'tea' that doesn't contain any of the actual tea plant. I've tried several times to force myself to like real tea (everyone who likes it seems to enjoy it so much and I want to get in on that joy) but actually it just makes me kinda nauseous 🤷‍♀️. So no tea for me.

8) I think my favourite line in that whole piece is: "My knee?" Jonas says, looking down with sudden interest at entirely the wrong leg. "What's wrong with my knee?". First because it's like the 3rd time he's asked that question, which is good for comedic value and also drives home that he is not absorbing any of what's going on, and second because he looks at the wrong leg, the image of which I find inordinatly hilarious.

14) I love getting new comments, because then I get to go reply and engage with someone who liked my work. I actually have all the ao3 email notifications turned off, so logging in to see "inbox (1)" absolutely makes my day, especially if I wasn't expecting it.

26) I have never managed to write a successful outline in my life, which is astounding considering that irl I'm one of those people who has an organised list for absolutely everything and plans every trip down to the minute. I just have to leap in with half an idea and 3 lines of dialogue to see what happens.

And now, back at you! How about 5, 17, and 23?

Fanfic/Author Ask Game

Write a scene from [insert fic] in another character’s POV

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Share your favorite kiss scene from [insert fic]. If there's no kiss scene, share your favorite moment of intimacy (romantic or platonic)

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A character you enjoy making suffer.

A character you want to protect.

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Wild Card: Ask me something else!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Miss Raven!! Idk if u have done this already but I've just seen the Masquerade event (I'm sorta a new player and it seemed interesting) and I would really like to hear ur opinion and analysis on Rollo!!

Welcome to the Twst rabbit hole, new player~!

asfkafdivfeetog8qetapafs YOU'VE AWOKEN THE BEAST NOW... I WILL NEVER SHUT UP aBoUT GLORIOSU MASQUERADE AND ROLLO mY BELOVED... 🤡

So first of all, I think it's important to bring up that when this event was first announced in JP, there was outcry from English speaking Twst fans. Numerous fans, primarily concentrated in the west, claimed it was problematic for Twst to "twinkify" Frollo, a villain that is not fantastical at all, but is sinisterly close to real life bigots that use religion to justify said bigotry. People fear mongered and made claims that Twst would try to sanitize Rollo or would present him in a way that was offensive to the crimes his Disney inspiration committed. And, might I add, all of this was before ANY of the event story was released--this was just upon the announcement. (If you want to read more about the controversy, I explained it in detail + shared my own thoughts about it in this post.) Today, you'll rarely find such claims floating around because the event story came out and spoke for itself. Glorious Masquerade is widely regarded as the BEST written event Twisted Wonderland has ever put out, even including 5 years' worth of content out on the JP server. No other event story has topped it in quality--and that's a sentiment that I personally agree with. I honestly don't know if Twst ever will top GloMasq. That's how strong the writing is.

As for my opinion on Rollo! I consider him one of my favorite characters due to his complex character writing and internal conflict (and honestly, I gotta appreciate his grind as a hater). To repeat what I've said in an older post: [I love how unpleasant and dedicated to his goals he is.] He stands out from the crowd thanks to his very blatant disdain for Malleus and acts in some of the most unhinged, overdramatic ways I can fathom (LIKE THAT STUPID TRAP DOOR PART… OR WHEN HE TRIED TO GO “SIKE” ON MALLEUS AND STRIKE HIM WHEN HIS GUARD IS DOWN). It’s the perfect balance of serious villain while also being so serious he almost comes off as desperate and pathetic. I also relate to his neurotic behavior. and conservative manner of dress. I talk more at length about my thoughts on Rollo here, though even that post doesn't fully encapsulate all I could discuss about him. I could go on and on about the dark implications of his unique magic, or how Rollo and Idia are mirrors of each other and sobering reminder of what can happen to someone that turns their grief into fuel to blame the world for his sorrow, or how the consequences Rollo faced at the end of the event were so fitting for his particular character, or the validation I feel that someone finally calls out Malleus for his potential to be a monster. IN FACT, I HAVE. And I have also gushed about his SSR here!! There's just so much interesting stuff to explore with him and his fucked up psyche.

[hellvst]

OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 4.7k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; quinn is playing + canucks won yesterday against la? we are soo back! i kinda forgot to give simon a face claim...oops! but, i did have an idea or picture him to look similar to kevin fiala or roman josi, i just can't find a face claim for him. it's up to your imagination as well! happy reading <3

CHAPTER TWO

SYDNEY

My alarm went off multiple times within the past fifteen minutes, and kept hitting the snooze button each time it did. So much for wanting to wake up early this morning.

I fluttered my eyes open, adjusting to the natural light through the window.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the dull ache in my right leg. It wasn’t a sharp pain–more like a persistent stiffness, reminding me that no matter how much progress I made, and lots of physiotherapy sessions, I wouldn’t always feel one hundred percent.

There was no point in dwelling on it. I had a busy day ahead, and self-pity wasn’t on the agenda. Not today.

I ungracefully got out of bed–did some stretches, single-leg squats, and hopped on one foot.

Nothing some movement wouldn’t fix.

The discomfort usually disappeared once I got my body moving. Truly odd, but if it got me through the day, I was not going to complain.

I moved through my morning routine with muscle memory. A quick shower, skin care, matching black compression set, an oversized hoodie thrown on without much thought, and tied my hair into a ponytail.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, the coffee machine was already doing its magic. As I waited, I flipped the TV on in the living room out of habit as I did every morning. 

The post-game analysis was still running from last night’s Canucks-Oilers’ game. I wasn’t surprised that this was the first thing that popped up on the screen, considering it’s been a while since my hometown, Vancouver, had made a playoff appearance. It was a huge deal for the city.

I caught a whiff of the last few minutes after getting home late from the studio–just in time to witness the whole debacle unfold. 

My brother, Simon, and his teammate.

The miscommunication. The puck hitting the post. The loss.

A blown play that cost them a ticket to conference finals. 

Now, every analyst, reporter, or fan was commenting and dissecting it.

“This was a complete breakdown,” one of the reporters began. “Simon Gray and Quinn Hughes were on totally different pages the entire game. You can’t have your best forward and your top defensemen out of sync in the most important moments–”

I turned the TV off and took a sip of my coffee, already knowing how that played out. My stomach was tightening at the sight of Simon after the buzzer went off.

Before the game, I sent him a short and simple ‘good luck!’, and haven’t heard from him since. Fair enough, given the outcome of the game.

Simon was going to be miserable for days, maybe weeks, more likely the entire summer. My brother was going to be impossible to deal with after that. And if history has taught itself, he was going to blame others for his mistakes. He always did.

I looked at the time, almost choking on my coffee, “Shit.”

I was running late for my first private session of the day, and Phoebe–one of my regular clients–was going to get there before me. Again.

If someone had asked me years ago what I saw myself doing, being a Pilates instructor wouldn’t even make the list. But life has a way of throwing you in places you’d never expect.

It started after the incident, I don’t talk about it much–there was nothing left to say. It happened. It definitely changed things. And for a very long time, I felt lost in my own body, like going through motions without purpose.

Doctors and my physiotherapist gave me exercises, stretches, and a never-ending list of things to “try”. Nothing clicked. Nothing felt right.

Until, I stepped into my first Pilates class. I remembered feeling a bit skeptical at first, convinced it was another trendy workout–the one all the girls tried out. It was the first time in a long time I felt connected to myself again. 

I kept going. I got better. And then I got really good. Good enough that one day, the owner of the studio I’d been training at, pulled me aside and asked if I ever thought about teaching. 

I laughed at the time, but the idea lingered that it stuck. And here I was: an instructor at Lumé Wellness–the top studio branch in Vancouver–fully booked for the summer, doing what I love.

The studio wasn’t that far from my apartment, twenty minutes tops without traffic which most days I was thankful for.

By the time I made it to the studio, sure enough, Phoebe was already inside one of the private rooms, stretching on the mat.

She raised an eyebrow at me as I put my bag down. “Would it kill you to be on time for once?” Phoebe teased, pulling her dark curls into a bun.

I rolled my eyes and started stretching beside her. “It’s five minutes.”

She shrugged and wiggled her brows, “Five minutes that I spent wondering if you were late because a guy kept you up last night.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned with a smile. “Don’t start this again, Phoebe.”

All she did was grin, absolutely delighted at the sight of my suffering. Phoebe was in her late forties, a social butterfly with too much energy for the morning slot, and too much curiosity for her own good. 

Plus the fact she was newly single and thriving in the chaos of her impending divorce, loved to poke at my non-existing dating life. She was a sucker for drama, and if my love life–or lack thereof–could provide her entertainment, she’d without a doubt take it.

“Oh come on, humor me, Syd. There has to be someone,” she said, settling onto the reformer. “You’re giving off the ‘I’m seeing someone new’ glow.”

I scoffed at her. “That ‘glow’ you’re referring to is just the new overhead lighting.”

She snorted then sighed dramatically as I adjusted her stance, “You know, you should really make time for some fun.”

“I have fun.” I argued.

“Pilates and binge-watching The Office at home doesn’t count.”

She got me there.

We continued on with our session. Usually with Phoebe, time flies so fast when all she did was rant about her life–pestering me about mine–but she eventually let it go once we began the harder exercises.

I barely got a moment to breathe before moving on to my bigger group session. To my luck, this group was breeze to get through as they followed my exercises on the reformer with ease. Not to mention, the music blasting through the speakers in the studio allowed them to get into that rhythm which was helpful as well.

Just when the last song ended, the group of ladies’ chests heaved, the room was filled with breaths of exhaustion, and a few went straight for their water bottles.

“Alright, ladies! Great work today! Hope to see you in our next class.”

They all left one by one, saying ‘bye’ on their way out, until I was the only one left.

Two or three classes to teach in the mornings usually had me working around lunch.

And by then, I was starving. 

My routine was pretty much the same, there was not a lot to do with an hour break. But, most days consisted of grabbing a quick meal at the nearest bistro or cafe with my closest friend. As I was about to pick up my things off the floor, my phone in my pocket buzzed.

Speak of the devil herself.

“Hey, Diane,” I answered, tucking my phone in between my ear and shoulder as I packed.

“Are we still on for lunch? I’m already at the café.”

I heard the faint lively sounds of the city of Vancouver in the background. “Yeah, I’m about to leave the studio and make my way–”

“Sydney?”

Right as I was trying to make a beeline to the doors, I turned to see Grace–the owner of the studio–peeking out her office door. My stomach dropped.

“One sec, Di.” I lowered my phone, ending the call. “Everything alright, Grace?”

“Can you step into my office for a minute?”

Fuck. This cannot be good. 

I followed her inside. It was a rare sight to see any of the studio employees in Grace’s office, she usually came to talk to me after my classes, never the other way around.

She never gave off vibes that ever intimidated me. I have never seen her upset with anyone, unless they truly pushed her buttons. The word ‘nervous’ wasn’t enough to express how I was feeling right then and there.

“Have a seat,” she gestured to the empty chair across from her. I gave her a smile, but beneath that was a wave of anxiety washing over me.

I tried to figure out what I might have done wrong. Did someone complain? Did I mix up the schedules or bookings? Did Phoebe finally rat me out for showing up late most of the time? The idea of me getting fired was not on my list of things today.

Grace sat behind her desk, clasping her hands together. “I have some news for you.”

Oh God. This is it. I was getting fired.

“I know your lunch break just started, so I’ll just get straight to it.” Grace had always been forward when she spoke. “There’s an opportunity with the Vancouver Canucks. Their management reached out about a summer cross-training program. They wanted us to coordinate it.”

I blinked at her, “And…?”

“And I told them you’d do it.”

As if my eyes couldn’t get any wider than it was. I stared at her in complete and utter disbelief, waiting for some sort of punchline. “You’re joking.”

Grace smiled, “Nope.”

I would have never imagined she’d say those words. This might be worse than getting fired.

There had been a few occasions when I had worked with soccer clubs, and a few college football players for cross-training. But, I had never done a session with the professional leagues such as the NHL. This was way different.

“Grace, I’m flattered but–” I thought about my words carefully, “I have a full schedule this summer and–”

“I am aware of your busy schedule,” she said, waving a hand. “I already adjusted your schedule accordingly to accommodate for this.”

Of course she did..

I opened my mouth, then closed it. This conversation was already headed towards the direction I dreaded. “There are other instructors here that I think are more qualified–who have worked in this studio for much longer that are more deserving for this job.”

Grace raised a brow at me, “Do you think I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you were more than qualified?”

Shit. I had that coming. I basically dug that hole myself. 

I stayed silent for my own good, Grace knew she was right and she sighed. 

“They want you,” she said simply.

“What? Why?”

I answered a bit too quickly, unknowingly raising my voice an octave or two. I shift in my chair, clearing my throat having just panicked in front of my boss.

“Well, given that you have a good background on hockey, I thought you were perfect for the position. Not to mention that their head coach, Rick Tocchet, had also referred to you. And if it helps, it’s not the entire team you will train with. Just two of their players.” Her lips twitched as she leaned in her seat. “One of them being your brother.”

My stomach twisted. I should have seen this from a mile away. Why didn’t I make that connection instantly right when she said ‘Vancouver Canucks’?

After all, my older brother Simon was one of the top forwards for the team.

Although, he may be my family and I would do anything for him–I wouldn’t train him or anyone on his team for that matter. Hockey was Simon’s thing, and I had my own so we stayed out of each other’s lane. And we like to keep it that way.

Plus, I wasn’t all that into men that played hockey. They weren’t my go-to type. But, I would be lying to myself if I didn't think there were some head-turners, but nothing too crazy of the sort. I have never dated a hockey guy.

I blinked, tapping out of my short trance. My brain was processing the fact that I was going to spend all summer with my brother and his teammate. 

Which led me to another question for Grace. 

“So, if I’m training my brother–” I said, dragging out the last word. “–who is the other?”

She took a moment before she replied, “Quinn Hughes.”

That brought me to a full stop. What?

My eyes were nothing but bloodshot, “Quinn Hughes?” There was absolutely no hiding my distraught expression, even if I tried my hardest to contain it. “That’s asking for the impossible, Grace. It would take a miracle for those two to work together.”

Shocked doesn’t even begin to cover what I was feeling.

Simon hated Quinn Hughes. I have spent the last few years listening to him ranting about how Quinn came in a year after he was drafted and ‘ruined’ everything–climbing the ranks, breaking franchise records as a defensemen, and taking the spotlight. 

I never truly understood the obsession. Simon had never acted this way growing up, especially towards another teammate. Now, he’s spent years resenting Quinn, blaming him for everything that has gone wrong in his career. I have asked multiple times specifically why he hated him so much, all I got was some half-assed answer.

And I’ve never met the guy, but from what I’ve seen, he seems alright.

“Your job is to make sure they don’t kill each other,” Grace continued. “I told Rick Tocchet you’d do it. And of course, you will be paid. More importantly, the Canucks’ are willing to invest in our studio. We’re growing and this would help fund more studios to expand, Sydney.”

Wow. It would be a great deal for Lumé Wellness now that I think about it. After adding the brand new Pilates reformers and more intensive sessions, our class attendances shot through the roof. The space in our studio was limited and we were growing in numbers as waitlists were piling up. 

What kind of Pilates instructor would I be if I didn’t want that for the studio?

I exhaled a sigh, “What about the media? They will be a problem–”

“We will handle it,” Grace cut me off. “After what happened last night, there’s no doubt that the press will track two of their star players’ moves throughout the summer. That’s why Rick, the Canuck’s team, and I will ensure that we will keep the training sessions on the down-low to prevent the media from talking.” 

That reassured me to an extent, but I was still skeptical. This was a bad idea.

It was easy to figure out why this arrangement was set in the first place. Those two, especially my brother, needed to stop acting like children and start acting like grown adults. Play like real professional hockey players. 

After the loss last night, it was only a matter of time when their team did something about it. I was surprised that it took them long enough. A few years ago, I wondered why they hadn't forced them to be stranded on an island together. Maybe surviving off an island together surely would have allowed them to work together at least.

The look in Grace’s eyes were telling me that there was no way out of this. Even if I came up with more excuses or tried to find a replacement, her (and apparently Rick Tocchet) mind was already made up.

I leaned back in my chair, my head was spinning in constant circles. “Is there any way for me to get out of this?”

“No.”

Damn. A complete shut down.

“Of course not,” I mumbled.

She gave me a knowing look, “Everything will be fine, that I can assure you, Sydney. Sessions will begin in two weeks.”

And just like that, my fate was sealed. Great.

I nodded my head as Grace dismissed me out of her office, gave her a small wave. I stepped out of the studio, took a deep breath trying to process what just happened in the last few minutes. I still couldn’t believe it.

My phone went off. Four missed calls and numerous text messages from Diane.

I called her back, and the second she picked up, she was already yelling. “Where the hell are you?”

A dull throb in my temple ached. “I got held up, I’ll be there in ten.”

“What happened?”

I sighed and began walking down the sidewalk. “You’re never going to believe me if I told you.”

The café was already packed by the time I got there, the low hum of conversation blending with the clinking of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine.

I spotted Diane almost immediately, she sat by the window, with a half-eaten bagel and small bits of crumbs on the table. She glanced up just as I approached her and instantly raised a brow.

“You’re late,” she said, pointing at me with her bagel in hand. “Again.”

“Sorry, I got held up.” I told her as I dropped into the chair across from her.

She playfully scoffed and held up her now empty cup, “Enough that I already finished one latte.” She smirked before setting it down. “Alright, spill. What was so important that you hung up on me and left me hanging here?”

“Grace.”

Diane’s eyes widened at that. She knew how rare it was for me–or anyone in the studio– to get caught up in Grace’s hair to get sent to her office. There were only good things I have told Diane about my boss over the years. Like the time she gave all the studio employees a gift certificate to the infamous spa in the north side of the city. It was generous of her, but it was quite expensive.

I took a deep breath before explaining to my friend of my new summer plans. Having to say it all out loud made me realize how real this was. It was going to happen and I wasn’t just dreaming in that office.

“Wait. I’m sorry, what?” Diane nearly choked on her coffee.

“Yep,” I popped the ‘p’, and nodded at her. “You heard me.”

For a split second, there was silence. 

Her face lit up accompanied with a squeal. Oh no. Here we go.

Diane’s expression was something between shock and excitement, “Syd, are you serious? That’s freaking nuts!” Unaware of her volume, she earned the glances of other customers in the café. We were both quick to give them apologetic nods. She leaned closer across the table, her voice quieter this time, “That’s huge, Syd!”

I scoffed, “I wouldn’t call it that.”

Diane grinned, “Are you kidding? You get to train professional athletes. NHL players. Do you know how many people would kill for that opportunity?”

She was right. It’s not everyday that you get to work with athletes in the big leagues. Anyone in the studio could have easily taken this job and taken the news a lot more lightly and professionally than I did. But no, oddly enough I didn’t have any other choice or say in the decision.

I shook my head at her, slumping into my seat. “It’s not that simple.”

Diane tilted her head as if I grew another pair of eyes, “What’s not simple about that? You get to train with your brother and I don’t think that’s all too difficult, right? Shouldn’t it be easier since he is your brother?”

As much as I loved my brother, we liked keeping our lives separate from each other. He had his career, and I had mine. Not saying that I wasn’t proud of him or embarrassed that my brother was one of the hockey stars in the league. I was very proud that he achieved his dreams, why wouldn’t I be? I just liked supporting him from the sidelines. 

“Me and Simon are close but–” I paused, tracing the rim of my coffee cup with my finger. “We don’t mix our careers or get involved in each other’s business. Now, I’m being thrown right into it and it just…complicates things.”

Diane watched me carefully, “Is that really a bad thing?”

I hesitated before answering her. “I’ve never really been a part of his hockey world, this was totally unexpected. Hell, I don’t even know if he knows about it. He hasn’t texted me since yesterday before the game.” 

“Okay, so you’re only training your brother. Big deal. It’s not like you’re training with the whole team.” She waved a hand, acting like that was the only issue I was dealing with.

I shot her a look, I accidentally left out a big piece of information while explaining to her.

“And Quinn Hughes,” I added flatly.

Diane’s jaw dropped to the floor, “Wait–Quinn Hughes? As in, the captain of the team and the best defensemen in the league ‘Quinn Hughes’?”

As far as hockey goes for Diane, she had no interest in the sport, unless there was eye-candy on the team. When it came down to the NHL, the only names she was familiar with were the ‘good-looking’ guys, my brother, and Quinn Hughes. 

I nodded, then took a quick sip of my coffee, “Apparently, my job is to make sure they don’t kill each other during the summer.”

“Wow. That’s definitely…something.”

“Exactly.” I crossed my arms. “I barely know Quinn. But, Simon? He’s been going off about the guy for years. And now I’m supposed to train them. Together? That’s a shitshow waiting to happen.”

Diane shrugged her shoulders, looking at me thoughtfully. “Or maybe it’s an opportunity.”

My brow raised at that, “To do what? Watch my brother have a meltdown? Yeah, no thanks.” 

“But–”

I groaned, “Diane.”

She was teasing, and she never fails to get away with it. “I’m just saying, maybe this isn’t the worst thing. You’ll be challenged. You’ll make new connections. And–” She paused. “Who knows, this might just be the most interesting thing going for you right now since the accident–nevermind, sorry.”

Ouch. That stung.

But, Diane was right. As much as I’d like to think that my life was perfect and everything was going the right places, deep down, I knew it wasn’t. Ever since I got hurt and went through months of recovering, the course of direction my life was heading towards took a hard turn.

Now, I have ended up here. But, I wasn’t not grateful as things could have been worse, very worse. Over the years, I had to learn how to go with the flow and accept it.

I knew she didn’t mean to say that with bad intentions. Diane always wanted what was best for me, and I was glad that she felt that way since I would do the same with her. She was my longest friend for as long as I could remember.

She gave me an apologetic smile, “If anything, maybe your brother can introduce you to his teammates or–”

I playfully shook my head, then stood up with my empty cup in my hands. “I’m getting more coffee.”

She laughed, “Fine. But, I am not done talking about this.”

I gave her a look over my shoulder before heading over to the front counter. The café was even busier now, and I had to squeeze past a few people waiting for their orders. I handed my cup to the barista, tapping my fingers against the counter as I waited.

Diane’s words lingered in my head. Maybe this was a big opportunity, Maybe I was overreacting. But there was still that anxious feeling in my stomach, my subconscious telling me that I was not ready for this.

The barista handed me the the refilled cup, and I turned back towards our table–

Only to be met with a sudden, solid force.

The next thing I knew, the warmth of hot coffee spilled down the front of my hoodie. I sucked in a sharp breath as the heat seared against my skin right through the fabric. “Fuck!”

The impact rattled me, as I staggered back, barely managing to keep hold of the cup and maintaining my balance. I looked down at the damage, dark brown stains spread across the pale gray fabric.

I clenched my jaw. Just perfect. 

“Shit, I–”

I glanced up, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my fucking mind and–

I froze. No, it can’t be.

Quinn fucking Hughes.

Stood right in front of me, low and behold, looked just as surprised as I did.

Up close, he was taller than I expected–maybe I was just short– lean but solid, his broad shoulders filling out his fitted black hoodie effortlessly. His dark hair was slightly tousled under his hat; damp at the ends like he’d just finished practice or a workout, and completely blended with the crowd of people as if he wasn’t one of the biggest NHL players in the league.

I blinked, my brain lagging for a second. I’ve seen him on TV, many times before, in clips that Simon had angrily sent me after a few bad games, but seeing him up close was different. Very different.

He had his own unique attractiveness, I won’t lie. He had the light scruffy stubble around his jaw–sharp jawline, and piercing greenish blue eyes that made him look intense, but there was a softness in the way that he blinked at me, momentarily thrown off.

What was he doing here of all places?

He didn’t seem to realize that I wasn’t saying anything and ran a hand through his hair, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I, uh–” He hesitated, looking vaguely horrified at the sight of my hoodie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t paying attention.”

I exhaled through my nose, forcing myself to calm down despite the feeling of coffee soaking into my hoodie. “Yeah, no kidding.”

 He pulled a handful of napkins from the counter and offered them to me, “Here.”

“Thanks.” I took them from his grasp and attempted to clean the stain, knowing it wouldn’t do much but tried anyway. 

“I can buy you another one,” Quinn offered, nodding towards the counter. “Or, at least a new hoodie?

I shook my head, frustrated that the napkins were making my hoodie worse. “I don’t need anything from an NHL player, alright–”

Oh shit. My eyes widened as soon as the words slipped from my mouth. 

That caught him off guard, and so had I.

Quinn’s expression lit up and brows furrowed instantly at that, curiosity flashing in his eyes. “So, you know who I am?”

“Yes, I do.” I said in a tone indicating that it wasn’t a good thing. 

He studied me for a moment. Probably thinking that I was a hockey fan or whatnot.

“Can I at least get your name or number?” He paused, scrambling to rephrase what his intentions were behind that question. “To replace your hoodie or pay for dry cleaning, anything to fix what I caused.”

He sounded pretty genuine and his intentions were nothing but pure, hopefully.

I gave him a look, “I’m not making you buy me a hoodie. I can take care of this–” I looked down at the mess. “–myself. So, I think I’ll respectfully pass up on that offer of yours.”

As I was about to turn my back on him, his fingers found the material of my sleeve, and swiftly pulled me back. “Hey look, I’d feel really bad if I left here without making it up to you.”

“Oh, really?” 

He only nodded, which amused me.

“I think I can survive without your help, but thanks.”

Quinn’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but thought the better of it before I turned around.

I felt his eyes linger on me as soon as I made my way back to Diane. She watched the whole thing and she looked like she was about to lose her damn mind once I sat down.

I glanced over my shoulder back to where Quinn stood. I was so lost in that interaction that I hadn’t noticed two other of his Canuck buddies were standing behind him. I watched them laughing–most likely teasing him–about what they witnessed. Great, that was just great.

“What the actual fuck just happened, Syd?” 

I wish I knew.

all rights reserved © 2025 hellvst. please do not copy, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[scarletttries]

Sanji NSFW Alphabet (One Piece)

Pairing: Sanji (One Piece) x Reader

Rating: Fluffy Smut

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone that voted on what my next post should be, that was very fun and cute and I'll definitely have to do voting more often! Anyway, Sanji was the top comment and these alphabets were the top vote, so please enjoy and keep an eye out for the other options coming soon 💕

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

After the euphoric highs of being with you, Sanji needs a moment to come back to earth before he can say a single thing. He'll collapse beside you, clinging to your body and pulling you close as his eyes fix to the ceiling, needing to look away from you for a breath just so he can pull himself together and not get lost in your beauty all over again.

After a moment of still, in which he can feel his whole heart healing and a lifetime of fears washing away, he'll turn to you, and suddenly he'll be creating the most loving outpour you can imagine. He's prasing every inch of you, he's trying to verbalise the enormity of his appreciation for being this close to you, he's asking for notes so he can be a better lover for the next time if you should ever deign to honour him with your company again. He gets so out of breath in his endless praise and excitement that you might just have to kiss him to shut him up, but be careful you don't get him going all over again.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sanji refuses to fight with his arms, so that his hands remain the remarkable tools that they are. Where once his favourite thing about them was their proficiency in the kitchen, now nothing brings him greater pride than using them to show you his adoration. He loves nothing more than interlacing his fingers through yours, whether you're out on the streets of some new island, or tangled up in sheets and crying out his name. He loves to see the effect even the lightest touches can have on you, and when he feels you twitch around his fingers when they're buried inside you, he knows he can die a happy man.

There's no part of you that Sanji doesn't think is the definition of perfection. You are by far the most beautiful being he's met in his life, and any time he lays a hand on you he feels like he has received a blessing from the heavens. That being said he does find his heart hammering especially hard in his chest whenever you have your legs exposed around the ship, and when you sit on the kitchen counter to keep him company you'll notice how quickly he gets distracted when he knows he could have his fingertips grazing over your thighs as he steps between them to capture your lips. Don't be surprised if he places a firm hand over your leg whenever you sit together, even though the anticipation of that simple touch is almost enough to knock the chef unconscious.

C= Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Hopeless romantic Sanji would definitely worry about getting his cum on you, feeling like you are so far above him in every way that it would be wrong for someone as lowly as him to leave himself on or in you. It would be obvious how shy he felt about it about the first time you let him get that far, but with a little gentle encouragement he'd quickly lose hold of himself and end up spilling across your chest before he can think twice. Run your finger through his release and bring it to your lips and the connoisseur of all things delicious will almost spontaneously combust, not sure he's ever felt better about being your chef.

D = Dirty Secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Sometimes when your clothes are still drying from laundry day, or they just aren't fitting right, you'll borrow one of Sanji's shirts to wander around the ship in. Unfortunately Sanji cannot control the effect that the sight of you in his clothes has on him, and immediately he'll be straining against his trousers, losing focus and begging you to consider putting something else on 'because you must be cold.' At first you're worried that he doesn't want you in his clothes, until he hurries you back into the cabin you share, awkwardly shuffling behind you until he can finally undo his belt, worried he might faint for the sheer rush of blood leaving his brain. Suddenly he's in adoration mode begging you to let him wear the shirt that has blessed your skin and promising to decorate you in a thousand kisses instead. If you sleep in one of his shirts, I guarantee he'll wear it all the next day just so your smell lingers in his senses all day long.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Sanji has been a lover for as long as he can remember, but you might be the first person he has ever actually pursued a relationship with, physical or otherwise. He would have a lot of enthusiasm and a keenness to learn exactly how to make you feel as special as you make him feel every day, but he wouldn't have the chance to put anything into practice before you came along. On the plus side the chef already knows how to handle things delicately, and how to devour a meal, so he's already most of the way there.

F = Favourite Position (this goes without saying)

Sanji needs to see your face to get the most of your time together, the intensity of connecting with you this way being such an important part of sex for him. A classic for a reason, he'd love being in missionary with you, able to see your every reaction to his touch and grab your thighs to keep you close, leaning back on his knees or pulling your legs onto his shoulders to feel even more of you. Get on top of him, riding him Cowgirl style, and this man will completely short-circuit, not even able to string together a compliment as he fights to remain conscious, not wanting to miss a second of the incredible view of you bouncing on top of him, but worried he might pass away if he gets any more lightheaded.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Sanji is definitely more of the intense romantic type. He might be a shameless flirt, but he doesn't take the act of having sex with someone lightly. He might let out the occasional euphoric giggle, and he'll plaster on a beaming smile if you laugh at one of his long winded compliments, but overall he's there for serious business, rather than goofing around.

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they?)

Sanji likes to keep his appearance neat and tidy as a chef so he'd be very on top of any grooming and hygiene.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sanji is 100% head over heels in love with you, so you know he's going to be relishing every second of intimate connection you spent together. He takes the romantic side of sex very seriously; he wants every occasion that you're together to be as special as you make him feel, and wants you to be entirely focused on him for the duration. He'll adore taking the time to set the mood with a homemade dinner, candles, and ensuring a rare moment of calm in your complex lives.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

It's no secret Sanji is a bit of a lover boy, so it's no surprise that before you were his partner, he'd pass most of his nights enjoying his own company and thinking of you. The way you looked that day, the times you'd spoken to him, the noise you made when you took the first bite of a dessert he'd whipped up just for you - it's all a bit much for his romantic heart to bare, his teeth biting his tongue as he worked his length over for fear of crying out your name in earshot of the crew. Once the two of you are an item though, he prefers to avoid his solo time, and instead save every ounce of his stamina and lust for the times he finally gets you all to himself. Nothing his imagination has ever conjured is anywhere near as sweet as the reality of being in bed with you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Let's start with the most obvious one - definitely a food play kind of guy. He's whipping cream and melting chocolate and begging to decorate your body like the sumptuous dessert that you are, just so he can taste every inch of you over and over again.

There's also definitely a praise kink at play with Sanji, who will fall all over himself to impress you when you're telling him he's doing a good job, that he feels incredible, that he looks so sexy buried between your thighs. He'll definitely shower you with praise as well, every notable feature he describes only adding to his seemingly endless adoration for you.

This man would let you do absolutely anything to him anyway, but offer to blindfold him with his own tie and have your way with him, and he will practically spontaneously combust. And if you prefer the be one tied down, Sanji will drop to his knees and thank whatever deity gifted him with such a perfect partner. I promise he will realllly take his time with you, devouring you for hours and exploring every curve of your body like the work of art you are, until you have to beg him to let you rest.

L = Location (favourite places to do it)

Obviously the idyllic romance of your shared cabin upon the ship, curled up in bed together, is how Sanji enjoys your romantic encounters the most. But that doesn't mean sometimes he doesn't get carried away with you perched on the kitchen counter, the briefest kiss descending into unbridled passion with his hands frantically clawing your thighs apart so he can finally be inside of you.

When you're not out at sea, Sanji loves to find romantic spots to lead you to - a secluded island hot spring, a warm isolated beach, a beautiful wildflower meadow. He'll bring a picnic and blanket, but rest assured, you're the only thing he's interested in eating.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

It's nearly impossible to find something you do that doesn't get Sanji going. Seeing you be good at your role on the crew, seeing you defend yourself or think quickly against an enemy, seeing you just going about the ship minding your own business. Obviously any time you smile at Sanji, or ask him the slightest question, this boy is ready to tear off his well-fitting shirt and offer himself to you for whatever would bring you joy. And when you sit on his lap, or keep him company in the kitchen, or eat something he's prepared and let out a satisfied hum - well that's when he becomes desperate to climb on top of you, manhood aching to make you feel as incredible as he feels around you.

N = No (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Sanji is a very jealous partner, thanks to an undercurrent of insecurity and rejection that has plagued his life, so anything to do with sharing you is off the cards.

He also couldn't think of anything worse than doing something that would hurt you, handling you like a priceless artifact in the best way, and rarely using his full strength in bed if he can keep control.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think we all know Sanji would live and die for the chance to taste you. To feel you twitch against his tongue. To see your head tip back as the throes of ecstasy overtake you while he's working between your thighs. It's his heaven, his earth, and his everything in between. From the first time he gets to taste you, it's all he wants to do, often forgetting his own throbbing pleasure in favour of seeing if he can make you cum just one more time, living for the way you whimper out his name as he brings you to the edge again. You are the finest taste this world has to offer, and he will never take for granted that only his tongue gets to explore it.

A gentleman to his core, Sanji would be almost dismissive of your desire to go down on him. You'd have to catch him too far gone in his passionate euphoria to have any thoughts at all, but when your tongue first makes contact with his sensitive tip it's like his whole body melts into the world's happiest puddle. He'd make the absolute most pathetic noises, fighting to keep his eyes on you as they roll back into his skull with bliss. And seeing his release dripping from your lips as you lick them, that might just be enough to kill the poor chef, who is somehow already in heaven.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Sanji definitely prefers to savour every second with you, taking things slowly and gently, building the sensation by worshipping your body before gradually getting to the main event. Just like in the kitchen, he doesn't like to be rushed, and he knows you achieve the best results with a delicate touch.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sanji's not the type to try and squeeze in a quickie, given he wants to make the most out of every opportunity to explore your body. That being said, if you can't keep your hands off him and are the one to make a move, he'll happily give you everything you want, exactly how you want it.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

You are by far the most precious and important part of Sanji's life, so it's safe to say he's not going to be keen to do anything risky with you. He knows the fear of losing you in battle, he constantly frets that you'll find a reason to leave him, realising how far above him you are, and so his mission in life is your joy and safety. He'll experiment in the bedroom with new positions and any kinks you might want to explore, but honestly as long as you're happy, Sanji is the most content individual on all the seas.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

We've seen Sanji in battle and know he's a master of strength and endurance, but given how quickly he crumbles to his knees at the mere brush of your hand, I'm not sure that would apply in the bedroom. The gorgeous blonde would be fighting for his life from the moment he slipped into your warm, soft, wet core. Over time he'd get a little better at containing himself, but thankfully even when he's done for, it barely takes him a minute to recover and be ready for another round, and usually by then he'll have spent the better part of the day going down on you before he ends up inside you, so you really don't need to worry about your satisfaction.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

If toys exist in the one piece universe, then you can bet Sanji not only has them, but would take an endless amount of pleasure in using them on you. Maybe with your hands bound above your head with his tie, or just as a little extra stimulation to make sure you're having the best possible experience with him. And if there's a little shop selling toys on an island where you stop, Sanji will practically faint walking around it with you and looking for something new.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sanji is so much fun to tease, because he has absolutely no poker face about how desperate he is for you. No amount of pride will stop him from begging you to finally use him if you've been working him up all day, and if you decide to grind your hips over his lap at a leisurely pace, Sanji will be in tears begging for you to bless him with the sweet gift of release.

On the other hand, Sanji doesn't consider himself a tease, thinking he was put on this earth just to tend to your every whim. However, when he starts showering you with kisses and praise as he insists on focusing on your pleasure, he is inadvertently the best tease. He knows exactly how to make your pleasure as perfect as possible, so if you ask him to speed up or to finally fuck you, he's going to insist that you trust him because knows how to give you the release you deserve, and he won't comprimise on your pleasure. Unfortunately he's always right, so you're never going to get him to stop.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sanji isn't going to be letting out loud echoing moans, his lips are too busy running a mile a minute with compliments for every inch of your body, inside and out. Sometimes he trips over his words or they come out in a desperate whimper when you just feel too good for him to keep in control of himself. And when you tease him, or even just give him a subtle smile to let him know what you want to do when you get him alone, well then the poor guy turns into a whining mess, practically frozen with his brain malfunctioning, unable to make any sound except the tiniest 'please'.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for this character)

Sanji is 100% a crier in the bedroom. He gets so swept up in the romance of it all, the depth of his feelings for you, the kindness and love that you show him, how he's never felt anything so lovely (physically or emotionally) and it would all just be too much. From the moment he's slowly plunging inside you, to him lying awestruck beside you in the afterglow, there's tears welling up in his eyes and falling across his cheeks in beautiful lines. It might be a little confusing the first time, but as you look into his expression of sheer devotion, running your thumb across his cheek as he croaks out how much he loves you for the thousandth time today, you'll come to appreciate his emotional exterior and openness with you.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Sanji has a more slight build despite being very muscular, so he's probably more on the average size, and his practiced chef's hands really add to the sensation.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

If you looked up Yearning in the dictionary, you'd find a picture of Sanji. From the day your paths crossed, he'd think of little else but your lips, your body, your voice. Everything you do is the height of beauty, and he can't help but be very affected by your every move. Every smile you throw his way tugs on his heartstrings and send warmth fluttering all the way down his torso.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Sanji would definitely be awake for a while afterwards, recounting your every perfect expression and noise, fishing for praise on his performance, and generally pouring his mended heart out to you. The afterglow of it all is just as beautiful and meaningful to Sanji as any other part of your intimacy, and he'd cherish getting to run his fingers through your hair and hold you close as you gradually drifted off. You might occasionally feel a teardrop land on your cheek as Sanji wishes he could somehow capture these perfect moments in time and keep them with him everywhere he goes, sweet echoes of his voice whispering 'thank you' and 'i love you' inevitably finding their way into your dreams, as he lives out his.

[nyoomfruits]

“what do you mean husband?!” For Carcar???

“It’s not him.” Carlos is standing in front of the couch he told Oscar to sit down on, right across from Alex, who’s staring at him dubiously.

“Okay?” Alex says. “And how do you know it’s not him?”

“Don’t you think I know my own husband?” Carlos asks, agitated.

There’s that word again. He’s been using it a lot since Oscar woke up in Medical with a raging headache and a truly impressive bruise on the left side of his chest. He’s been letting it happen, he’s been letting everything happen, because he’s been too tired to protest, but he’s had enough. He needs to put his foot down and have Carlos checked out by the medical team because clearly he’s gone insane.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and both men swivel to him like they’d forgotten he was here, which. Rude. “What do you mean husband?”

“See?” Carlos says, gesturing to Oscar like this proves all the points. “I’m telling you! Also I tried to hold his hand when he woke up and he pulled it away and stared at me like I had gone crazy.”

“Right, but have we considered you have gone crazy?” Oscar asks. “Because I am not married to you.”

“Yes, you are.”

And the thing is, if Carlos had said that, Oscar would’ve argued with him until the cows came home. But it’s Alex, in a soft, worried voice, who is now looking at Oscar like he’s  gone insane.

“It’s not your Oscar,” Alex says.

“I have been telling you this!” Carlos exclaims, pointing at Oscar. Oscar wonders how they would react if he just started fucking biting Carlos’s finger every time he fucking pointed it at him. “It is not him. It is not the man I married.”

“Thank god,” Oscar mutters darkly under his breath. This seems to take the wind out of Carlos’s sails a little, and he deflates. “No offense mate,” Oscar adds, even though he isn’t sure why. He means all offense, really. “I’m sure your Oscar is lovely.”

“He is, actually,” Carlos says, “He’s a lot like you.” Before Oscar can open his mouth, Carlos adds, “Aside from the obvious reasons. He was like that too, at first. All bite.”

“Right,” Oscar says, but this unsettles him more than the whole husband thing has. He’s been thinking of this alternate Oscar as an entirely different beast. A guy who lived his life differently, who ended up naïve enough to fall for Carlos’s stupid charms. But this. This sounds like it could happen to him.

He shakes his head at the thought. Never. He won’t let it.

(He travels back to his own universe two months later. The first thing he does when he comes back is find his Carlos and kiss him straight on the mouth.

What can he say. Turns out things do happen to him.)

[edamameimei]

Perhaps, Even This —chapter 14

A year ago, you were known as your friend group’s “sunshine.” You were able to light up a whole room with your energy and everyone could rely on you for your quick wit and easy humor. You lived life simply one day at a time. However, seemingly out of nowhere, that all changes. Now a Junior in university, you find it extremely difficult to do all the things you used to do. Especially being the Resident Assistant for the Geffen Dorms. New residents begin to move in and one them is a girl you could only describe as “radiant." Her name is Megan Skiendiel, and at first, you don’t welcome the positivity but as you two continue to meet and hang out, you find yourself becoming the person you used to be. Will you be able to be that person you were a year ago? Or will everything just stay the same?

14. sounds good

half written (wc: 1029)

When the clock finally strikes 12 AM, you sigh in relief. You can finally clock out and go to bed. You begin to feel bad for the next person who has to take over your shift, knowing it can only get crazier from this point on considering it is still the peak of Halloween night. You pick your stuff up, not even bothering to wait for the next person to come and take over. You’re tired and it is no longer your problem. 

That is, until you hear that obnoxious beep, meaning a resident has just scanned into the building. 

You let out an aggravated huff, turning around to hopefully not see a drunk resident on your clock. What you’re met with is much worse, however. Standing in front of you is Megan, with her heels in her hands and her makeup slightly runny. The sight makes your eyes soften, especially when you begin to notice that the younger girl seems to be in a bit of distress. You tilt your head, concern written on your face. “Are you okay?” Megan smiles but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. For the first time since knowing her, she doesn’t seem as excited as she usually is. Her hyperactive energy seems depleted and she just isn’t herself. 

You walk towards her, a frown evident on your lips. You grab her heels and place a hand on her shoulder. In other cases, you would turn the other way. Being a Resident Assistant for a college dorm is not for the weak. There are days where you often ignore the clinking sounds in resident’s bags when they pop out then pop right back into the dorm hall. You try to ignore the glazed over look in their eyes when you’re required to do your one-on-one checks ins with your residents. It’s just too much paperwork and you are only one person in charge of 20 other college kids. You really rather not put more on your plate. 

But this was Megan. And you hate to admit it but the ginger girl really did sneak her way into your life. 

That’s how you find yourself walking her to her dorm that is only one floor away. You tell yourself you’re only doing it because your own room is only a few doors away and you just want to make sure she can’t get into more trouble. But Jen would say otherwise. So, you’re grateful that the girl isn’t around to give you shit for this. 

The walk is silent for the most part. You find it strange that Megan isn’t talking your ear off and for some reason, you want to end the silence. It was driving you crazy. But, when you two finally get back to her dorm, she finally speaks. Her voice is quiet and for some reason it kills you. “Parties aren’t really my thing… I’m starting to notice.” You look at her, letting a chuckle escape your lips. “Really? I thought you’d love em’.” Megan shrugs, running a hand through her hair. “Me too… But I guess…” She trails off, biting her lip. After a moment, she just shakes her head, looking down to dig in her purse for her keys to her room. You furrow your brows at her sudden silence and place a hand on her shoulder. “Megan?” She doesn’t look up though. When she finally finds her keys, she quickly unlocks the door and looks up to give you another small smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n…” She makes a move to walk inside but before you can stop yourself, you grab her wrist gently. She looks at you again, her lip trembling slightly. 

The sight of her being so vulnerable overwhelms you. You pull her into a tight hug, holding her tighter against you when you feel her body shake slightly. She was crying. She buries her head into the crook of your neck and holds onto the collar of your Geffen Dorms polo shirt. Her voice cracks as she speaks through her tears. “Maybe I’m just too much sometimes…” You bite your lip at her words because you know exactly how that feels. And you hate thinking about Megan knowing that feeling.

Sure, she’s quite clingy. And can in fact get on your nerves most days. But every single time, Megan manages to put a smile on your face. Seeing her walk through the entrance of the dorms makes something inside of you light up. When she smiles at you, basically skipping towards you, it causes pieces of the facade you’ve created to fall. You’re still not sure if that’s a good thing but right now, you can’t bring yourself to care. 

You have to see Megan smile once before you go to bed. It’s a must. 

You pull away slightly from the girl, one of your arms around her waist and the other reaching up to place a hand on her shoulder. You tell her quietly, “I think… You’re enough.” She lights up at your words and pulls you back closer, hugging you so tightly that you feel a bit lightheaded by her presence. The feeling scares you shitless. After a few moments, you pull away completely, your cheeks flush and your thoughts going 100 mph. You look away, rubbing the back of your neck as you chuckle nervously. You hear Megan giggle and you know you’ve successfully completed your mission for the night. You murmur softly, “well… I’ll let you go to bed…” You look back at her to see the ginger girl smiling brightly and you can’t help but feel relieved. She nods, placing a hand on the handle of her dorm and before she goes inside, she looks at you one last time. “Tell your friend Soobin thank you for me by the way… He walked me home!” You give her a thumbs up and she nods, smiling one last time. She goes into her room and once the door clicks, you let out a loud sigh. 

You tiredly make your way towards your own room. Before unlocking the door, you take your phone out and go to your messages.

a/n: sad megan but reader makes it all better <333 lmk what you guys think! also u haven't seen it already, i posted a sophia x reader fic yesterday if you're interested :)

requests are open

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[ragnarockz]

Ok but what happens when Rio asks to learn more about Nicky to feel closer to the both of them? How does our favorite detective react?

🥺

Agnes is super defensive over him and her memories of him; the little amount of time they had together

They're sitting at the kitchen table, their coffees gone cold between them as Vidal tries to break through the crack that is Nicky

Agnes does the whole 'if I can be jovial about this it'll hurt less' approach and that all lasts for about a sentence or two before her face darkens and she's sucked back into that excruciating long day at the hospital

"He got very, very sick, Vidal...it all happened so fast..."

Agnes slumps in her chair and holds her forehead, elbow to the table as if still trying to figure out how to save her son

Vidal can only sit there and embrace Agnes' pain

Her own thoughts rush in, thoughts of how she' heard whispering since coming to Westview of how Agnes' son died. How she mistreated him. How she was too young and how it was because she was a runaway with no family and no job and access to drugs. How it was because she didn't have a good man in her life. It makes Vidal want to vomit

She never tells Agnes this; she's pretty sure she's heard all these rumors herself. How many times did she lay awake at night and maybe even start to believe them? How many times did she tack them on to the ever growing list of faults?

"Did you do this all alone, Baby?"

"No, I had Alice with me."

And that crack suddenly starts to get chipped away and Vidal and breathe a little easier as Agnes starts to let her in

"You and Alice...you must have been close? Trusted each other a whole lot."

"Yeah, we were...I did. We...she took me under her wing after I left my mothers and she took care of me while I took care of Nicky."

"And you two?"

"What about us, Vidal? That's ancient history..."

"I'm not jealous! I just want...to know you. I want to know you from then. What got you to here?"

And Agnes has to stop and think because can she tell Vidal? Does she want to tell her? What difference does it make now since neither Alice nor Nicky are in her life anymore

"I was just a baby myself trying to navigate motherhood and my sexuality...I felt alone, alienated, and then Alice just... accepted me."

"You two..."

"Five years. Until...Nicky died and she went away to school, and I stayed in Eastview."

"That's a long time to be with someone at that age..."

And Agnes bites the inside of her cheek, tears pricking the corner of her eyes. Her hands are shaking, leg bouncing under the table. She can't look at Vidal, not yet

"...I had a ring picked out; kept it in my pocket for months...waiting for the right time..."

And the silence expands throughout the house. A different time and place; Agnes feels like she's suffocating

"You...never went after her?"

And Vidal's words suck Agnes back to the present, their eyes finally meeting

"I couldn't. Didn't feel right. She had so much going for her...I didn't want to tie her down to me."

And it's Vidal's turn to choke back her tears because at the end of it, that is all just so Agnes it's painful. The fear of having someone stay; asking them to stay. The fear of shared sorrow over joy. The fear of being seen. Te veo

"You should reach back out to her...I see the cards from her you bring in and hide...she still cares."

"It's pity."

"It's love, Agnes. Please. She still cares about you; she still considers you her friend."

Agnes stares down Vidal, studying the calm expression on her face. She blows out a deep exhale

"I wouldn't know where to start...does she want me back in her life like that? Does she care? Does she just send me cards because she feels just as guilty as I still do?"

Vidal bites her lip then, digging into her pocket before she takes out her own business card with a number scribbled in pen on the back of it

Agnes reaches forward timidly as if the paper is going to burst into flames; a secret she's is not allowed to know

[swimming-karyss]

Sabo: loneliness, connection and affection

Trying to organise my thoughts on this matter hehe

I just thought that Sabo's relationship with loneliness and connection are very interesting, and not much people talk about how terribly lonely his childhood days were(even compared to Ace&Luffy).

Ace has been alienated from people from the beginning. Raised in the middle of the jungle, by bandits who never showed much affection, and who repeated the same hurtful words as others did. The state of loneliness is the norm for him. He has never known any other life. Naturally, he'd be protective of what little he has(Sabo) and reluctant to open up and accept new connections(Luffy).

As for Luffy, he has been left alone. Shanks left him after a year staying at Windmill village. Garp constantly took him out of his regular life only to leave him alone in the jungle. And he as well took him away from the village and Makino, after he ate his devil fruit. And while he didn't have [present] parents, he had been cared for. Luffy knows the difference between loneliness and companionship. Which is why he chased Ace's recognition so much.

Sabo's situation is more similar to Luffy's.

But do you ever think that Sabo loved his parents? That he wanted them to love him too? He wouldn't have drawn them if he didn't. He wouldn't be so disheartened at their dismissal if he hated them from the start. But his parents made their love conditional. Sabo had to earn their love and his happiness, while they ignored his pain and attempts to connect. 

And as you know this kind of relationship could leave a lasting impact on how one navigates their future relationships! But on that later😊

Now, Sabo ran away and that opened a whole other can of worms. He's a child, that for five years didn't have anyone to rely on. Of course, Ace was with him, but after he left for the day, Sabo was left completely alone. I mean, at least Ace had Dadan and occasionally Makino and Garp, they shared meals together, he could turn to them in case something happened and they provided him with company and a roof above his head. Sabo lived on the Gray Terminal by himself, in a place where people considered him either a troublemaker to avoid, or a pest to get rid of (those like pirates and bandits). So through Ace and Luffy Sabo gains not only brothers but also other connections and people who care about him! And he welcomes both Dadan and Makino with a bright smile :) Now that I think about it, just like Ace told him about Luffy, he also must've told Sabo about them too🥹

And while all this is nice, his previous problems didn't go away magically. 

(… But his issues aren't stated or shown as explicitly as Ace and Luffy's, so they are easier to dismiss.)

Even though Sabo trusted Ace with his life, he still kept his origins a secret from him, whether it was because he felt them insignificant compared to Ace's or because he feared abandonment in case Ace would be disappointed. And he was more than willing to keep his secret until the very end - Luffy&Ace literally had to beat(strangle) the truth out of him. Sabo also put distance between them in another way too: Ace thought the two of them would sail together, Sabo didn't.

That is honestly also a point to how controlling his parents were. Sabo wanted freedom so much that he didn't mind the loneliness that came with it. Well, he got what he wanted ;) 

Now it would be easy to say that his amnesia also erased his trauma. But it didn't! Sabo still felt hid parents' influence. (And unlike the other weird amnesia case (the sea sure likes to take people's memories huh) - Big Mom - he didn't revert to his younger self, he only lost access to his memories, his feelings and 'character development' remained). If anything it only led to Sabo not being able to identify the cause of his issues → not being able to treat them properly. Now, the RA seem like decent guys, they very well could be the needed support system for Sabo, but again, it's an army with a whole lot of other issues to deal with. So either way his trauma most likely was allowed to fester for a while as we see its consequences show in his adulthood. 

Even though Sabo seems to be doing well as an adult, there's still some signs of emotional distance. He has never reciprocated a hug, even though he doesn't have a problem with physical touch in general, he didn't even think about approaching Luffy in Dressrosa at first and was very tense when actually talking to him. And it's honestly fascinating just how stiff his body language was in Dressrosa (maybe I'll talk about it in general some other time) - be it shock or anger he keeps his arms to his body, unlike Koala or Hack, who choose violence.

He also showed barely any reaction during Vegapunk's speech despite the panelling focusing on him specifically. I'd say he mostly keeps his negative emotions in check, bc in Robin's little flashback he was quite expressive! The main counterpoint is 'special Luff' where he is very open about his anger, but he has a really decent reason for it: his feelings being made fun of. And as you'll see later it's a very sensitive topic for him →

To begin with, he avoids talking about things that have emotionally impacted him in any way.

1.This one might be a stretch, but he begins to talk about his encounter with Fujitora, only not to say anything in the end, idk what's wrong with him; 2. After a very emotional fight with Burgess Sabo dismisses any worries without even mentioning the fight; 3. He refuses to talk with Hack about Luffy, even though we know that he loves to yap about him to Dragon. And that is right after he didn't want to wake Luffy up to even say goodbye! He also changes the topic quickly so Karasu wouldn't be able to further question him.

Even though these scenes are played as gags, he really seems to have trouble with emotional intimacy and opening up about his feelings. And that makes him seem inattentive and irresponsible, thus affecting his relationships with others even more… 

And speaking of which, he is accustomed with either suppressing his feelings or at least just keeping them in check. He hides his worries from his colleagues, appearing as cheerful as always. And during his meeting with Dragon and Iva he brushes aside his guilt and grief for king Kobra (but, I mean it's a work meeting, they need to be professional) and never once he acknowledges his injuries.

And if he's willing to disregard such a thing as grief, how do you think he really feels about his new title, which was gained by the blood of a man he failed to save?

And frankly, right now we don't know much about Sabo! We know about his childhood, and the way he presents himself now(and that is some material to work with), but the 12 years in the Revolutionary Army are a mystery, and again it's an army, I bet he's seen many things, especially considering how high his position is!

tldr: like Luffy, Sabo has a special relationship with loneliness and abandonment. But unlike Luffy, who especially in pre-ts hated separation, Sabo pushes people away. And what makes it even harder for others to connect with him, is that he tends to hide his feelings and problems.

(like a cat)

but again, I might be reading something wrong, my bad