#anyway does this moment make anyone else insane? just me?

[ruvviks]

thinking about yancey and his people pleaser attitude

[unnonexistence]

feeling mildly insane over stacker pentecost because is he ever not the fixed point? do we ever get a moment where he isn't being something for someone?

[defiant-firefly]

(I've had my chatty medicines so you get a post about this)

There is something distinctly and uniquely alienating and bizarre about hearing people say 'Easter Sunday is the most religious day of the year'. Like, when was this?? If it's so religious and so so so important, how come no one thought to tell me it was religious until like four or five years ago?

Yeah it's kinda funny but I'm also sat there every time like "what the fuck are you talking about". The assumption I was raised Christian and am Christian via culture is really funny though cause like. Bro I have no fucking clue what any of this stuff is about.

My parents never taught me the majority of this shit. Anyone else assumed I already knew about it. This Easter talk I've been hearing about a weird amount more than normal is all new to me and making me think of all this shit lmao

[lovebugism]

after skinny dipping at a lover’s lake alone, eddie is shocked to see someone else was there all along (reader) 🫶🏻

thank u for requesting anon! this prompt literally drove me insane! (in a good way)! — eddie falls in love with the weirdest stranger he's ever met in his life (wednesdayaddams!reader-esque, mentions of being naked, 18+ | 1.2k)

The edge of Lover’s Lake sits right outside Eddie’s trailer, partially visible through a thin treeline of bright orange oaks. He stumbles through it on graceless, lanky legs — high out of his mind, which is filled now with racing thoughts of boyish rage. 

He’s failing English (again), for one. For another, Corroded Coffin’s been bumped to Tuesday night shows instead of Friday nights (a death sentence if he ever saw one). And ever since then, Wayne’s been on his ass about working with him at the car shop (‘cause moonlight as a rockstar isn’t a real job, apparently.)

Eddie gets angrier the more he thinks about it — which is perpetually and without mercy. It makes his pale skin feel red hot, boiling to the touch, practically repelling every wisp of autumn breeze that threatens to cool him down. He wonders, briefly, if it could be the weed fucking with him. ‘Cause everything else has been today.

He stands on the grassy bank of the moonlit lake and strips off his clothes to find out. He stumbles trying to get his pants off, right after his chin gets stuck in the neck of his t-shirt. He doesn’t think to check if anyone’s around until he’s left only in his thin, navy plaid boxers.

“Free show?” a feminine, unfamiliar voice calls from the center of the pitch-black lake.

Eddie practically jumps out of his buzzing skin. His heart lurches into his throat as his palms hurry to cover his still-clothed crotch. “Shit!” he shouts, voice echoing over the empty clearing.

You don’t flinch at the volume of the voice. He can’t even tell if you’re blinking from here. You just remain in the middle of the rippling, silver water, only visible from the tops of your bare collarbones.

Eddie swallows hard, adam’s apple bobbing, and tries to catch his breath. “Sorry. I— I didn’t know anyone else was out here…”

“Don’t stop on my account,” you tell him, flirtatious words that sound strangely deadpan falling from your lips. “Lover’s Lake is big enough for the both of us.”

Eddie squints into the darkness, dark eyes flitting across the water. “You’re alone?” he concludes after a few moments. 

“Usually…” you hum, lifting a naked shoulder in a lazy shrug. “…Are you?”

“Usually.”

“Want some company?” you offer, still strikingly monotoned. The strange boy with the wild hair and pale legs stammers for a response. You tilt your chin to your chest and look cautiously at him through your lashes. “…Or should I go?”

“No!” Eddie blurts, then clears his throat with a red face. Quieter, he adds, “No, it’s not that. You don’t have to go.”

A smile quirks at the edges of your lips. So faint Eddie can hardly tell it’s there. But still, it sparkles in your eyes like the moonlight does. “Just act like I’m not here,” you lilt, disappearing back into the water before Eddie can blink.

He’s not so sure how possible that is, but he gets into the water with you, anyway.

The fall season has turned the lake into silk. It’s cool and soft against his burning skin as he slowly submerges himself within its void. Eddie’s wide, attentive eyes never leave the water as he searches for your body beneath it. He follows the faint, silver ripples until they disappear completely — until he starts to worry if you’ll ever come back up again — until he starts to convince himself you were never there at all.

There’s a loud and sudden splash before him. He blinks, and your face is inches away from his own. An almost uncomfortable proximity between two strangers. “Jesus!” Eddie blurts, flailing awkwardly in fear.

“Did I scare you?” you squint, like it wasn’t totally obvious.

The boy exhales a wavering breath. “Yeah… Yeah, a little bit.”

“Sorry. Won’t happen again,” you promise with a faint smirk that tells him otherwise, as you swim slightly back from the boy ahead of you. The dark waves rise and valley at your bare chest. Eddie’s boyish mind immediately wonders exactly how bare you are underneath them. 

“Actually, it might,” you continue. “But it’ll be an accident… Probably.” 

Eddie struggles to tell if you’re joking or not — if you’re playing games with him, or if you’re just too aloof to know what you’re doing to him.

“You’re a strange… strange person,” he tells you, a half-compliment and a half-something-else, as the words tumble from his lips before he can think about them. His chocolate eyes narrow into thin slits at you. “Did you know that?”

The question’s mostly rhetorical, but you nod rapidly in response anyway.

“It’s ‘cause I’m not a person,” you confess, eyes wide and glittering with sincerity. “I’m a mermaid trapped in human form.”

“Aren’t mermaids already half-human?”

A contented noise sounds in your throat. 

“Hm… Guess I’m already halfway there, then.”

Eddie forgets to respond, and the conversation lulls. It makes the rest of the world seem terribly loud. Wind whistles through trees. Frogs croak in the tall grass. Water sloshes softly around your bodies. He gets lost in the serenity surrounding him and drowns in the chaos in your eyes.

“You have a staring problem,” you blurt. “Did you know that?”

The boy blinks rapidly to clear the haze from his glazed-over eyes. “Sorry. Sorry, I’m just—” Eddie clears his throat and shakes his head, hair damp at the edges and sticking to his freckled shoulders. “I’m just trying to figure out if you’re real, or if I just… made you up in my head or something?”

Something about that seems to please you. 

A mischievous smirk pulls slowly at the edges of your mouth — into a smile brighter than Eddie thought you were capable of. You float towards him with little effort, like two distant planets now threatening to collide. He doesn’t realize how close you are until your breath fans warm across his jaw.

“How’s this for real?” you hum quietly, leaning in like you plan to kiss him.

Eddie’s stunned still. He forgets how to breathe as his heavy eyes fall to your lips. He moves closer to you on instinct, mouth gravitating to yours despite himself — like you’re some kinda siren controlling his mind with a song he’s too far gone to hear.

Through the mist in his vision, he watches your mouth curl into a cheeky half-smirk. You look on at him, at this puddle of a boy, like you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 

“You are a strange… strange boy, Eddie Munson,” you hum quietly.

Eddie shakes his head as he descends (face-plants, more like) back into reality. The water ripples faintly around you as you swim away from him. He stammers for words while you head back towards the bank. “Wait— How— How do you know my name?” the boy gapes.

Your body ascends from the silver lake, naked as the day you were born, and shining beneath the full moon. 

Water drips from your skin like diamonds as you crouch to grab your clothes, lying in a discarded pile beside the dock. The sight of your bare ass would make Eddie implode if he wasn’t already reeling.

“Sorry!” you call to him over your shoulder, with your all-black clothes balled at your chest. “Can’t hear you all the way over there!”

You never cease your stride back towards the pitch-black treeline. Eddie shouts at the back of you anyway, “How do you know my name?!”

He never gets an answer.

[rxzennia]

nocturnality

– tales of the voracity pathstrider

✎𓂃 irregular sleep patterns make for good nightmare consolation

aventurine wakes up in a cold sweat, throwing off the sheets as he sits up abruptly. 4am, his bedside clock reads, and he rubs his eyes. he can’t get the images of the thirty-four slaves he had killed out of his head; he watched the life drain from their eyes, and they were children like him. neither could he be rid of the feeling of blood on his hands, from those whom he stained himself with, and those who stained themselves upon him.

see, he isn't the type to seek anyone out in his moment of vulnerability

he doesn’t trust anyone to not take his fears and use them against him

but he thinks you might be safe

you did put up with him for 5 years and counting, after all 

although he still can't really tell if you like working for him

you haven't left yet! and you seem to care about him!

it means something to him, even if you're not outright showering him with warmth

he would've loved it if you were more affectionate, but he finds himself liking the way you’re only ever soft for him 

you’re a slab of ice to everyone else (even to him occasionally, if he doesn’t pester you enough to get you to open up)

anyways, he debates between texting, calling, or visiting you in person

your room is not too far away from his block – he might as well try his luck

(he has insanely good luck, so maybe you will be awake)

before that, he sends you a text just in case

it's not even a text, it's just a random sticker in his recents

your reply comes a few seconds later, and it's so characteristically you

one question mark. literally. just “?”

there he has it, you're still up and about. aventurine is used to your patterns by now, even if he can’t wrap his head around how you sleep so late and rise so early.

well, as long as you're well and doing your job properly, he's not going to question it

though he does wonder if you sleep at all

you’re his dutiful secretary during the day, sorting his documents, reminding him of his schedule and the like

you even follow him into meetings if he asks you to 

sometimes he has to be ready by 5am

and guess what? you're awake and all dressed up by then, knocking at his door at 5am sharp

but you don't go to bed until 3am?

he only knows that because he had once tried to talk to you about a project idea he had at that time and you didn't pick up the phone 

when you finally did pick up on his second call (in his defense, you usually weren’t asleep yet), you sounded groggy

and then you were like “mrrrrrh what is so important that you must wake me?”

he will never tell you how much he found your sleepy voice adorable

that was the earliest he's ever seen you sleep in all the days that he's known you

he really, really hopes you’ll renew your contract with him

you’re his absolute favorite out of all the secretaries he’s had

no one’s as soft with him as you are

no one’s ever tried to listen to him, or to understand him the way you do

out of everyone, you’re the only one who he feels some sort of genuine connection with

he’s seriously considering giving you a permanent position when your current contract ends

a familiar sequence of knocks sound at your door, and you know it's aventurine who's come to visit you. you've set up something like that with him because of the sheer frequency at which he bothers you outside of office hours, and you'd like to know which inconsiderate bastard it is who tries to visit your room past midnight.

affectionately, of course

it's not like he's causing you any inconvenience, so you don’t really care

you look at him, and wordlessly, you open your arms

you don’t need an explanation, or excuses, or an apology, or anything

his eyes are bloodshot, and you can see the cold sweat still on his forehead

he didn’t even bother tidying up before coming to see you

your heart aches, because it isn’t very often your boss comes to you in this state

he doesn’t even hesitate before he plops face first into your embrace

you’re lucky it’s the ungodly hours of no-one-is-awake, because you bringing your boss into your room is not a good look for you

especially when he’s holding onto you like you’re his secret lover or something

you don’t talk, and neither does he

you just hold him as he clings to you like you’re his lifeline

you lift him up easily; you're not about to stand in the doorway for the rest of the night 

he likes how you don’t ask questions, how you comfort him without expecting anything in return

you don’t even know what exactly it is that plagues him, but you’re so tender with him all the same

you settle down in bed with him, though he can tell that you were working before he interrupted you

your monitors are still on, and you have a dozen of papers laid out side-by-side along with a pen that is now abandoned

he feels a little bad, but also he’s overwhelmed by how easily you do these things

like… setting your work aside because he’s looking for comfort

but you’re not even doing it consciously? you’re doing it so naturally like you’re doing it out of habit

he doesn’t think you intended to tuck him into your bed when you picked him up

he doesn’t get it. he doesn’t get you.

you could’ve held him in your lap while you worked and he wouldn’t have complained

to give him your undivided attention like this

are you trying to make him lower his guard? 

he wants to draw the natural conclusion of your eventual betrayal once he lets you in, but he finds it so ridiculous that it’s impossible

you? who’s so gentle with him? who’s not even spoiling him consciously?

aventurine doesn’t feel safe with many people, if at all. the fact that he breathes so peacefully by your side is a surprise in and of itself. when your fingers brush against his hair, he shivers and holds onto your arm tighter. 

“don’t go,” he says, as sleep slowly takes him again, “stay.”

you chuckle, a sound that he loves to hear, as you offer him your entire right side

and your scarf

you don’t know if he’d like it, but you flick the end on your right over to him anyway

he does like it. he snuggles into the fabric without hesitation

he vaguely remembers the fact that your scarf is your weapon, but it’s the least important thing on his mind right now

it’s soft. it smells like you. it’s comfortable.

you’re still trying to work, settling for reading through documents on your tablet

he cuddles up to you, shifting in your warmth until he finds himself a nice position to settle into

you let him sleep by your side, even if you’re unlikely to rest yourself

it’s okay, you can work through the night just fine with your tablet

you’ll be right next to him when he wakes

you glance at aventurine, who’s finally relaxed and getting the rest he deserves. he’s snoring softly all the while holding your arm in a death grip, and you feel yourself overcome with a surge of protectiveness.

you’ll watch over him. when he’s feeling better, you’ll see if he wants to talk about it. and whatever happens next… well, you’ll cross that bridge when you get there. you still have contracts and agreements to review, and there’s only so much time before more work ends up on your plate.

that said, aventurine’s day starts in three hours; maybe you could shuffle a few things around and let him sleep in?

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Intercorrelated

Miguel O'Hara x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 29: Cream Pie

Summary: You've had a bad day.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry).

Warnings: reader has tattoos on their legs, kissing, teasing, p in v sex, cream pie, oral, fingering, swimming pool adjacent smut, reader works at Alchemax, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2244

You sighed, annoyance bubbling along your veins, threatening to boil over and overwhelm you. Tears pulsed at the back of your eyes, trying to fight their way to the surface. 

It just wasn’t fair. 

The experiment had failed. Fine. These things happened. But Stone giving you a fucking public dressing down and all but promising to destroy every scrap of research you’d gathered? Yeah. Not so fine. 

You pushed open the door to the swimming pool. It was on the upper levels, part of the built-in gym in the Alchemax building. It was always empty this late, everyone who stayed at this time was either working on their own experiments or had accidentally fallen asleep in the carpark. The pool was the perfect place for you to wallow just a little bit. 

The door swung shut behind you, enclosing you in the smell of chlorine, and you were just a few steps into the room when you spotted him. Miguel-fucking-O’Hara. Mister 6 foot-fucking-9 and ‘Oh, I would never have any experience blow up in my face.’ 

You sighed. 

It wasn’t Miguel’s fault that you’d had a shit day. But you’d quite like for him to piss off out of the pool so you could lay down on the seating at the edge of the room and contemplate your life choices so far. 

He was doing laps at a practically insane speed, gliding smoothly through the water. Another thing he was annoyingly good at. Prick. 

As he reached the wall of the deep end he turned, intending to do another lap, but paused when he noticed you standing on the side, just at the edge of the swallow end. 

You swallowed, skin prickling under his gaze. You didn’t want him to think you’d come in here just to gaup at him, but it wasn’t like you could just jump in and swim in your work clothes. Fuck.

You marched with purpose towards the middle of the pool and hastily pulled off your socks and shoes, leaving them fairly neatly on the side, before you rolled up your trousers and sat on the edge. You dipped your feet and calves into the water. Temperature wise it was surprisingly pleasant. 

You assumed that maybe O’Hara would have the common decency to ignore you, continue his lengths until he finished his workout. Something any normal person would have done. 

Anyone else certainly wouldn’t have slowly swam towards you, barely making ripples in the water with their smooth strokes. 

He stood up in the pool, not quite directly in front of you. He didn’t say anything at first, though you could see him watching you out of your perpetual vision. Slowly he ran a hand through his hair, pushing errand strands away from his eyes as droplets ran down his temples. 

There wasn’t much hope that he’d ignore you and your slightly red looking eyes now.

“You okay?” 

Why the fuck was he like this? All calm words, with that stupid low voice of his and big doe eyes. 

“Fine.” 

He hummed, not sounding like he believed you in the slightest. He sank back down into the water a little, lifting his legs up and spreading his arms out so that he could float in a sitting position. 

“Why are you sitting on the edge of the pool, in your work clothes?” He asked deadpan. 

“Why not?” You somehow managed not to grimace at your childish response. It wasn’t like O’Hara would understand anyway, he was oh, so, perfect. 

To your surprise, Miguel smirked slightly at your response. He watched you for a moment before pointing at your leg. “I like your tattoos.” He said matter of factly. 

“Yeah?” A brief smile flashed across your face and you angled your left leg out of the water for him to see it clearer. “You’ve seen them before.” 

“I know.” He nodded and looked closer. “They’re pretty..” 

“Thanks.” You tried to fight down the heat that spiked along your skin. You cleared your throat, “erm, do you have any?” Despite how many times he’d been inside of you, you’d never actually seen him as naked as he is now.

He shook his head. “Not a massive fan of needles.” His stupid little smile was infectious and you couldn’t help but mirror the expression. 

Miguel held your gaze for a moment too long, the action almost hypnotising. There was a slight upwards twitch to his lips for a second before he moved a fraction closer and stood. It was almost as if he wanted you to get a good few of the water running down his smooth skin and- no, you were just being silly now. 

He touched the outside of your calf with the tips of his fingers, a ghost-like touch that made you shiver involuntarily. Lightly he traced the outline of your tattoo, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly in concentration. “What do they mean to you?” He asks softly. 

“Erm,” your voice cracks a little as if you hadn’t spoken for a while and you swallow, gulping down air. “Lots of things…” 

He looks up at you from under his eyelashes, the tips of his fingers still gliding across your skin. 

“This one is… erm, well, sort of a memento mori, I guess.” 

He smirks, one eyebrow raised. “You guess?”

You pull a face at him for a second. “It is.” 

He smiles, going back to looking at the tattoo. “Morbid.”

You’re about to retort back when his fingers slide higher, slipping further up your calf. “What about this one?” He says softly again, his voice low and deep. 

“It’s…” you shiver again as he delicately strokes your skin, his touch maddeningly distracting. In all honesty, you should snap at him, push him away, get him to stop touching you. This was inappropriate, this was unprofessional. But it’s not like that has stopped you before.

“It’s?” He repeats, not looking up at you as he continues caressing higher, sliding up to your knee and over the top of your rolled up trousers to your thigh. 

Your breath catches in your throat, all possible thoughts and words dissolving from your mind in an instant.

Miguel smiles ever so slightly, still looking unwaveringly at your leg. But he can hear the little gasp of air escape your lungs. 

He lets the quiet hang for a moment before he speaks again, his voice even lower than before. “Why do you have so many?” 

“I… I like them… they make me happy.”

He hums again, but this is a satisfied sound. “They’re beautiful on you.” 

You swallow. “Thank you.” 

“You’re beautiful.” He smiles and you forget how to breathe. “And smart, Stone’s a fucking idiot.”

“You heard about that.” You mutter, ignoring the first part of his sentence. 

He nods and hums. “He’s fucking unprofessional. And a dick.” 

That makes you laugh and he smiles. “You ignored what I said.” 

You pause, frowning slightly and his grin widens.

“You’re beautiful.” He repeats, stressing the words. 

You swallow and shift a little, your mind working in overdrive. “Erm… thank you.” 

He chuckles kindly and you wince, putting your hands over your face and groaning.

“I mean…” 

“I know what you mean.” He repeats, he steps closer his hands on your knees and lightly presses as he moves between your legs. 

He softly strokes your cheek, leaning closer as his gaze flickers from your eyes to your lips. 

“You’re beautiful,” You mutter, mesmerised. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, a cheeky edge to his voice as he places a gentle kiss to your lips. 

For a second you freeze, practically forget how to react. But then you press closer, leaning against his wet skin, the water seeping into your work clothes. 

You feel him grin, but it’s not in a slimy self-confidence - it’s happiness. 

Before you really know what’s happening, Miguel has you on your back against the floor, tugging off your trousers and panties and putting them on the side. 

Part of you is sure that you should be at least vaguely protesting. What if someone else walked in? The other part of you is sure that if you’re going to get fired for the failed experiment, you might as well go down a legend as the researcher who fucked by the company pool. 

Miguel sucks your clit into his mouth as he pushes two of his large fingers inside of you, groaning as you arch your back and whine softly. 

“Hmm, god you taste nice.” He mutters, curling his fingers and swirling his tongue around your clit before he goes back to sucking. “Fuck, you’re so wet already.” 

He pulls his fingers out quickly, putting his hands on the side of the pool and lifting himself up and out of the water completely. 

He shuffles you back a little, so that he can kneel between your legs and helps you to pull off your top. The material is barely over your head before he has his thick cock in his hand, already lining up with your entrance. He pushes in gently, even though he knows you can take him now, still as gentle as he was when you first started this little game. 

He grunts in your ear as he bottoms out, sighing as your walls squeeze and pulse. “I didn’t expect to cross the pool off my list.” 

You snort, “You got a list of places you wanna fuck?” 

He grins at you. “Mentally.” 

You giggle, “Nah, you’ve got it written down, probably a spreadsheet somewhere.”

“Who told you about my spreadsheet?” He teases, leaning up a little so that he can rock into you slowly. 

You spread your legs a little wilder, raising your hips to match his rhythm. 

“Maybe I can,” he tries to keep his voice as calm and controlled as possible, but you can hear the strain in it. “Actually take you out somewhere first? We could eat then fuck? In a bed?” 

You bite your lip, trying to match his even tone. Another part of your game. Whoever broke and moaned first lost, and so far, you were on a winning streak. “What, is that on your list too?” 

“I’d like it to be.” He groans softly. 

“Oh, was that a moan?” You grin.

He shakes his head rapidly, “You must be hearing things.” 

“Fuck,” you swallow as he changes the angle, pressing the head of his cock repeatedly against your g spot while he rubs his pubic bone against your clit. 

“Was that a-”

“No.” You give him a look and he grins. 

“Let me make you dinner.” He breathes, the strain starting to show in his voice.

“So desperate to get me to your house?” You tease.

He gives you a soft look, his eyes dark. “You know I am.” 

You falter, that wasn’t what you were expecting. Every time in the past you both fucked, usually in his offices on suite, he’d been light-hearted. Kind, but teasing. This was just a way to blow off some steam, a fuck and see you later. Now he sounded more like… like…

“Come on,” he grins, and sinks wonderfully deep. “How about a wager?” 

You nod. 

“You moan first, I get to take you home and fuck your brains out in my bed?” 

You swallow down a cry. “What do I get if I win?” 

“What do you want?” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

You pause, lost his expression. “For you to take me home and fuck my brains out?” 

“Oh, very good.” He grins and quickly leans down to nip at your neck, his hips hypnotising as he rocks and rolls, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. 

You squeeze his shoulders, shivering and shuddering as he moves expertly, the pattern to make you fall apart practically embedded in his bones. 

He breathes deeply, pressing his lips close to your ear and then moans deeply at the exact moment he grinds down against your hips. You gasp. 

“Looks like you won again,” you can hear the glee colouring his voice, “Guess I’ll have to try to make you scream at home later.” 

You groan, “Miguel…”

“Oh fuck, that’s it,” he rocks faster, groaning at the wetness between your legs, how your pussy flutters around him and sucks him impossibly deeper. “Be good and come on my cock.” He hisses, his muscles tensing. “Before I fill you up completely and-”

Your back arches as you cry on, pleasure erupting along your nerves as he pushes you over the edge. Colour explodes behind your eyes, dances along your skin as you sink and float at the same time.

He thrusts twice, his moans rising as he follows you into bliss, coming hard and deep and, true to his word, filling you completely. 

He kisses you hungrily as he comes, his hips slowing as he sucks on your tongue and then nuzzles into your neck. 

You both breathe hard as the sweat on your skin cools. “You’re not worried about Stone are you?” He asks softly. 

You shrug, trying to act nonchalant, but it’s clear you are.

“Don’t be.” He kisses your pulse point. “He won’t talk to you like that again.” 

You wriggle a little so that you can look at him fully, Miguel smiles up at you. “How do you know that?” 

“I can be intimidating you know?” 

That makes you laugh kindly, “You’re too sweet for that.” 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I have my moments.” 

Thank you for reading!

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Why Her and Not Me?

Gojo Satoru x F!Reader (Angst)

I’m back with the angst everyone! I think I am planning on making this a multiple series…because I have a few ideas! Please let me know what you all think! I love hearing from you :) Anyways, onto the story!

Part II

I stared in the oven, watching the strawberry cake slowly come to a rise. I looked at the time and saw that there were only 10 minutes left before I could take it out, so I took this opportunity to start filling my mochi. I grabbed the rice dough and flattened it out, grabbing my freshly made whipped cream and Zunda.

I loaded up the dough with zunda, adding the whipped cream right after. Carefully, I folded the dough up into a cute little ball, setting it down on a plate next to me. One by one, I arranged them in a neat row on the plate, their green pastel colors and smooth surfaces creating an inviting display that begged to be sampled.

There were exactly 10 balls, all for a special someone.

Just as you finished, you heard the back door of your shop open up. You looked over to see Utahime. I smiled in her direction, greeting her.

”Hey Hime! What brings you here?” You asked, hearing the ding of your oven go off.

“I wanted to see if that idiot was over here bugging you.” She said, looking around for Toru. I smiled softly at the mention of his name, seeing her give me a look of disgust.

”Ugh, out of all the boys you could have fallen for, why did it have to be him? Can’t I persuade you to fall in love with someone else? Literally anyone else.” She said, looking at all the sweets I made. I turned the oven off, grabbing the cake and placing it on the counter to cool off.

“Oh come on, Hime. He’s not that bad. He’s actually very sweet once you get past his cocky facade." I defended, my voice softening as I thought about the moments of genuine kindness I had witnessed from him.

”Are you sure we’re talking about the same Gojo Satoru?” She asked, grabbing a cupcake from the plate.

”Cut him some slack, Hime. Hes got so much pressure on him, it only makes sense for him to act the way he does. I know I would’ve gone absolutely insane if I were in his position.” You said, snatching the cupcake from her hand as she was about to eat it.

”Hey! I wanted to eat that.” She whined, making you roll your eyes at her.

”these are for my customers.” You said, placing the cupcake back on the plate.

“Besides, I already made a plate for you next to the fridge.” You said with a smile, placing the cupcakes in a box for pickup. Hime looked over to the fridge to see a pile of various treats, making her eyes sparkle and mouth salivate.

”Y/n, you are literally the best person in the whole wide world!” She said, grabbing a strawberry muffin.

“I know.” You said, going back to check on your cake.

As Hime stuffed her face with the muffin, she looked over to see the kikufuku neatly displayed on a plate.

“Y/n, when are you going to ask him?” She said with her mouth stuffed. You looked over to her with a confused face.

”What are you talking about?”

Now it was her turn to roll her eyes.

”Oh come on, Y/n. When are you going to finally confess your feelings to Gojo??”

You looked back down at your cake, a frown making its way to your face.

”I…I don’t know, Hime.” You said.

”If you don’t do it soon, it could be too late. Y/n, I am only telling you this because I know how much you love Gojo…even though I find it hard to believe that a sweet girl such as yourself finds someone like him irresistible.” She said, walking up to you. She placed a hand on your shoulder, making you face her.

”What if…what if he doesn’t see me that way? What if I confess to him, only for him to reject me and ruin our friendship? I don’t want that…” You said, looking into her eyes.

She scoffed.

”If Gojo doesn’t see how lucky he is to have someone like you fall in love with him, he’s more of an idiot than I thought.” She said, trying to hype you up.

”You two are inseparable. I swear, anytime I see Gojo without you, its like his whole day is ruined. But the moment you show up, its as if he saw a miracle appear right before his eyes. You quite literally make his day better, Y/n.” She said sternly.

”You really think so?” You asked, starting to feel hopeful.

“Absolutely! There is no way anyone could deny that. Honestly, its kind of sickening how cute you two are together. It almost makes me jealous because you're my best friend.” She said, making you laugh.

”Hime, I never you took you as the jealous type~” You teased, making her smirk.

”Shut up. All I am saying is when you two do become a couple, you better still make time for me. I don’t care if Gojo gets mad, I will steal you away if you don’t hang out with me for a long time.” She said

”you’re starting to sound like Shoko, now. She told me the same thing not too long ago” You snorted.

”well she’s right. We had you first. Gojo was the last to have you, so by common knowledge, your besties get your time first before him.” She said, making you smile at her.

”Oh, Hime. If Toru and I do actually become a thing, I promise you I will never abandon you two. Honestly, if it weren't for you girls, I would have never gotten this close to Toru. After all, chicks before dicks.” You joked, copying what Shoko said the other day.

She chuckled, hearing the back door open once more.

”Sup bitches.” Shoko said, making you both shake your heads at her.

”Nice of you to show up, Shoko. Y/n is about to confess to Gojo of her undying love for him.” Hime teased,making you tense up.

”What?! When did I say that?!” You asked, whipping your head around towards the two of them.

”Fina-fucking-Lly. It’s been like five years and you two still haven’t gotten anywhere. I feel like I’m going insane just watching the two of you, especially with the sexual tension going on between you two.” Shoko said, making your face heat up.

”S-Shut up Shoko! You have no idea what you are talking about.”

”So how are you going to confess to him?” She asked, smirking at your face.

”Easy, she is going to go straight up to him with the kikufuku in her hands and look him I straight in the eyes. Then, she will hold onto him desperately and confess her love for him.” Hime said, teasing you a bit.

”Oh, Toru~ I love you so much I can’t think straight! I need you so bad in my life~” Shoko continued, mimicking your voice.

”Then come here baby and lets make love alllll night~” Hime said with a deepened voice, mimicking Toru.

”I do not sound like that, Shoko.” You said, making them both laugh.

“Plus…a part of me still has a bad feeling. I don’t know if he thinks of me that way.” You said, your grip on the counter tightening.

Shoko and Hime suddenly stopped and walked towards you.

”Hey, look at me.” Shoko said, forcing you to look in her direction.

”It’s going to be alright. I already told you last time, there is no way he thinks of you as just a friend. He literally talks about you all the time that even I get tired of hearing about you.” She said.

”Yeah, and the way his eyes light up even more just by the simple mention of your name? Its so obvious he likes you.” Hime followed.

”But…maybe that is just him being…well himself.” You said, trying to come up with excuses.

”Y/n, there is no doubt in my mind that he is head over heels for you just as you are for him.” Shoko responded.

Suddenly, you heard the bell ring from the main entrance of your bakery shop.

”Y/n! Come out here, I need to ask you something.” You heard a familiar voice yell. You felt your heart race at the sound of his warm voice. Your body tensed up even more as you felt your body basically freeze.

”What are you waiting for!?” Shoko asked. Hime grabbed the Mochi you made for Toru and placed them in your hands.

“Go out there and tell him! This is the perfect chance!” They both saiid, pushing you out to the front.

You tried to go back in, but they locked the door, forcing you to stay out there.

“Y/n?” You heard his voice once more, making you freeze again.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, one of his eyebrows rising.

You slowly turned around, finally coming face to face with the tall white haired man.

He looked down at you, his confused face slowly turning into one of happiness as he saw the kikufuku in your hands.

”Is that…what I think it is?” He asked, almost salivating at the sight of it. He loved your baking, no matter what it was. But when you made him his favorite snack, it was something different.

”Uh, yeah! I did. I figured you’d want some since it had been a while since the last time I made it.” You said, walking around the counter, making your way towards him.

You placed the dish in his hands, feeling his fingers brush against yours. You quickly pulled your hands back, almost dropping the dish. Thankfully, Toru had quick reactions and caught it before it fell.

”woah there, no need to be so nervous! You know I love your baking!” He said, instantly stuffing his mouth with one of the mochi balls.

”Mmmm. They are perfect! You even made them with the perfect amount of filling!” He said, making your heart flutter at his reaction.

”I remember you complaining about another shop putting too much in. I wanted to make sure it was just right for you.” You said sheepishly.

”You mean you actually listened to me?” He asked, chuckling at you.

”Of course. I do actually care about what you say, you know.” You replied, looking up at him.

”Oh I’m touched.” He teased, setting the plate down on a nearby table.

“So what was it that you wanted to ask me?” You asked

Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed after you asked. It was weird.

He looked down at you and fidgeted with his hands, making you look up at him with concern.

”Toru?”

“Y/n…do you know what it feels like to…love someone?” He asked, making you blink your eyes up at him.

”Well…I mean…yes…yes I do.” You said, making him look you in the eyes.

”Then maybe you can help me.” he said, making you look up at him confused.

”help you?”

He sat down at the table near him, you following suit.

”There is…this girl. And every time I am around her, I feel nervous. It’s like my hands get clammy and I feel my heart skip a beat just from the mention of her name.” He said.

After he said that, you started to feel your heart race again, heat rising to your face. Was he…was he talking about you?

”Just looking at her makes me feel all tingly inside…and I always long to be around her…” He finished.

”Is…is that what it feels like to…be in love? Feeling like you want to be around that person all the time? Feeling excited every day because you get to see them?” He asked, making you smile a bit. You nodded your head.

”Yes…it is. At least, to me it is. After all, that’s how I feel about y-“ You started, but quickly shut up, not ready to confess to him just yet.

“Hmmm.” He said, lost in thought.

”Toru? Are you okay?” You asked, feeling hopeful. He looked deep into your eyes and a small smile slowly formed.

”Yeah…I am. I…I never thought it possible, but I think I may have feelings for her.” He said, mumbling a bit.

”Oh?” You asked, hoping this was the part where he confessed everything to you.

”You remember Osaka? The girl who just moved here and joined us?” He began, making you come out of your senses. Osaka moved in from a small village hundreds of miles from here. It had been almost a year since then and it was needless to say that her and Toru hit it off really well…but you figured it was just him being nice to her…

”Yes…why?” You asked, not liking where this was going.

”Well…because I think…I think I might like her…” He said, a small smile making its way towards his face. However, while he was thinking of Osaka and feeling his heart beat faster, you felt yours shatter.

“You…like…Osaka?” You asked, tears starting to fill up in your eyes. He looked up at you, not noticing the water beginning to form in your eyes.

”I…I think so…no. I know so! I mean, just hearing her voice…it makes me crazy. I’ve never felt this way before. It feels…nice.” He said, getting lost in his mind.

”I see.” You said, swallowing hard. It hurt so bad. It felt as if you were swallowing nails and sharp razors down.

”I think I am gonna go and talk to her…see what she says.” He said, confidence filling up inside of him.

”T-talk to her about what?” You asked, your voice breaking a bit.

”Talk to her about how I feel, silly. I mean, I’m pretty sure she feels the same way. I don’t think anyone could love me as much as she does.” He said.

”I do…” You thought as he said those words. He quickly got up, pride and excitement filling up inside of him.

”I’m gonna go do it! I’m gonna go tell her everything. tell her how I feel for her! How much I long for her!” He said, quickly leaving.

“Thanks for the talk, Y/n! You really are a good friend!” He said, quickly leaving. You just sat there, staring at the plate of Kikufuku you made for him. Tears piled up in your eyes and you couldn’t hold it back anymore. You quickly got up and ran to the back, letting it all out. Shoko and Hime ran towards you and caught you in their arms as you fell towards them.

”Y/n! What happened?” Shoko asked with worry.

”I knew it…I was such an idiot for thinking he would ever love me.” You sobbed quietly.

”W-What?” Hime asked, confused.

”He…He doesn’’t…He doesn’t…fuck!” You whispered as you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate

“Breathe, Y/n. Hey look at me. Breathe.” Shoko said, breathing in and out with you, trying to get you under control.

After a few minutes of that, you were able to get yourself under control…however, you still felt awful. You felt like life just got sucked out of you. Shoko and Hime were by your side the entire time, hugging you as you calmed down.

”He…He said he fell in love…but with someone else.” You whispered, broken from the memory replaying in your head.

”Who?” Hime asked, baffled that Toru would pick someone else over you.

”Osaka…”

”Osaka?? You mean that new girl who just joined us?? There is no way-“

”It’s true, Shoko. You think I would make something like that up??” You asked, staring at her through your watery eyes.

”Y/n…I am so sorry.” Hime said, completely in disbelief.

”I didn’t think he would be that much of an idiot.” She said, hugging you tightly.

“I can’t believe it…he constantly talks about you during our missions. It doesn't make any sense.” Shoko said, hugging you as well.

”And he constantly flirted around with you, too!” Hime said.

You were completely heartbroken, feeling nothing but emptiness. However, Shoko and Hime were livid. Satoru Gojo had hurt their best friend…and what worse is he was totally leading her on!

“Come on.” Shoko said, pulling you up to your feet.

Hime went out to the front and closed the shop early.

”What are you doing?” You asked softly.

”We are all going out. We need to get your mind off of he who shall not be named.” Shoko said, turning everything off in the kitchen and bringing you your jacket.

”I don’t know Shoko. I’d rather just go home.” You said.

”That’s okay. We can go to my place and just hang out. We can have a girls night and watch movies, eat all sorts of food, all that fun stuff!” She suggested. However, you shook your head. You pushed yourself away from her, grabbing your keys.

”No Shoko…I…I just need to be alone…please.” You said, not wanting to argue. Shoko looked at you with worry. She didn’t want to leave you alone, not like this especially.

”Y/n, we-“

”Please, Shoko. I need you to understand…I…I need to be alone for right now.” You spoke, opening the back door and walking out.

Shoko tried to go after you, but she stopped in her footsteps. She knew you wanted to be alone, but she didn't want to leave you alone. But she also knew that you needed it to collect your own thoughts.

Hime came back and asked Shoko where you went. She explained everything and Hime understood.

”Let’s give her a couple of hours, then we will go to her place.” She suggested, making Shoko nod.

——

You drove towards you house, tears falling down your eyes as quiet sobs slipped from your mouth. You never imagined heartbreak could be this bad…you never imagined the day where you would get your heart absolutely crushed. It hurt so much to the point where you felt pains in your chest. It stung so bad, almost like someone was snipping each string in your heart.

thoughts of Toru and Osaka began to pop up in your head, along with questions.

What did she have that you didn’t? Was it her face? Her hair? Her personality? Her strength? Her charisma? What was it??

All of these questions rushed through your head, yet you could never come up with a proper answer…not unless you asked Toru himself…though that was the last thing you wanted to do. For the first time in your life, you found yourself wanting nothing to do with him. You didn’t want to hear his name, his voice, nor did you want to see him. It would just hurt too much.

You noticed the weather beginning to change. Clouds began to circle above you, getting ready to start dropping rain.

Damn it!

You tried to get your emotions under control, but no matter what you did, the tears wouldn’t stop. The heartache wouldn’t stop.

You knew you couldn’t do anything about it, thus rain began to fall…and hard.

———-

You finally made it back to your house. You quickly ran inside and ran to your bedroom. You flopped onto your bed and let it all go.

The rain outside just fell harder and faster, causing people to rush either to their cars or back to their homes.

Your puppy ran up to you and began to lick your face, noticing something was wrong.

You looked down at him, seeing him look up at you with a tilted head.

You patted your bed, inviting him to come cuddle with you.

He snuck his way under your arm, snuggling up to you. You began to hold onto him tightly. The warmth and softness of his fur felt good against your skin, causing you to slowly drift away to sleep.

though, while you felt yourself succumb to the sleepiness, one thing lingered in your mind as you closed your eyes.

”Why her…and not me…”

_____________________

Part II??

Taglist?

[zealofchronos]

i share ur struggle.. i ACHE for gepard or welt content so hopefully i could request for something like that? im js gonna throw a bunch of ideas and you can choose whichever

relationship hcs (what he’d be like, how does he show his love etc)

sleeping together (take this whichever way you want)

cooking together in the kitchen (im a whore for this stuff idk why😭)

bedroom hcs (kinks, fav positions, literally anything i need it so bad)

KISSING IN THE SNOW W GEPARD😞

anon i hope you know this ask gave me like 5000 braincells. like suddenly i am THINKING. it's so insane how one little ask full of random blurbs gave me so much life to write even just the smallest things.

literally welt and gepard are my two faves rn, i'm fr just waiting for jing yuan to come out. jing yuan my beloved <3<3

but anyway, as for this little ask, i think we'll ease into the hsr content with some fluff ( i am all due for it anyway, i have Not been writing and i also need the fluff because my god does life hit hard ) so sit tight >:)

love and cherishing you ♡ ;; various x gn!reader headcanons

content;- sfw , fluff , headcanons list , how some hsr boys show their love for you ♡♡ , overall just really fluffy because i need toothrotting stomach ache inducing head swirling sweet fluff sometimes... , nothing about getting together but just general hcs on what they'd be like in a relationship , reader is nooooot...? the trailblazer but could possibly be interpreted as such if you squint

characters inc:- welt yang , gepard landau ( includes post-belobog arc content, not extremely spoilery but take note that i chose after the jarillo-vi conclusion to open up more opportunities >:3 )

together with welt yang . . .

welt has lived life longer than perhaps anyone on the express, being from another world and used to living as the first ( second generation ) herrscher of reason, a herrscher that sided with humanity. he didn't expect to get sucked into another adventure, one where he'll meet many companions, see unbelievable sights or even... fall in love.

he's an old soul, yet his heart still has a grand passion for what he does. the fire within him burns, and perhaps, you stoke the flames. a motivation unlike any other to show you the wonders of the galaxy— of every world.

his love is not the most openly shown, an old man can be embarrassed sometimes. especially in the face of his family of the astral express. his affections for you are for you two only. his touches, his words, the little things that make sparks fly are all special and meant for your ears and eyes only. be it in the privacy of his room, or late nights when everyone else is fast asleep, he'll always find a way to make his love for you known when nobody else is looking.

time together with you is always time well spent. he enjoys it perhaps just a little more than going on adventures with everyone. you could be doing anything, and he wouldn't mind simply sitting in silence together with you. it's comforting, relaxing. it's moments like these where he gets to unwind with you. it's essentially a recharge— he doesn't even have to hold you ( but if you'd like that, he'd be more than happy to ).

he used to be an artist— an animation storyboard artist. his skills on paper would definitely outmatch the rest of the crew. he already likes to have his experiences captured in little drawings in his notebook. well, you happen to be one big, long lasting experience. one that he can't wait to see what more comes while experiencing it. you swear that you can catch him gazing at you every other day, and you always see his pencil moving across the papers in his book. inside are sketches of you in all your beauty, how he adores you, even complete with little notes about the things you like.

he wishes to show you the world, all there is to be seen across the entire galaxy. he will be there, to guide you, to accompany you. it's not that he doesn't trust the rest of the crew, but really, this is the closest thing to a date you've ever gotten. taking in the sights of new worlds, creating new memories together, and maybe getting tossed in a bit of trouble along the way. sure, it may be tiring or troublesome, but he wouldn't want to face it with anyone else.

those that come across him know him as welt yang, but this is the name he has inherited. he doesn't tell it often, perhaps, but at least you know him. the real him. he's not just welt to you, but also joachim. it is something he entrusted to you, who he is, who he once was, who he shall become— everything about him.

he adores you, and all your entirety. you are like a burning star in the galaxy above, one that burns with him.

together with gepard landau . . .

gepard, captain of the silvermane guards is a busy, busy man. between his duties as captain and his daily life, he does his best to find time for you. his lack of charm is exactly what makes him charming, some may say. he's no nonsense, stubborn, "famously uncompromising" ( as his sister claims ) with an unmatched loyalty. it sounds horrendous, but perhaps that's exactly why you love him.

you tell him he should prioritise his duty first and foremost, he is an important figure in belobog, after all. and he does, he stubbornly commits to it. even if he can see in your eyes that you're hesitantly letting him go again. it's in these rare moments that he gives you a small, warming smile and a gentle embrace— he tells you that he'll do his best, for the preservation of belobog, for its people— and most importantly, you.

bothering him on patrol isn't one of your favourite activites, there are definitely more enriching things out there, but you still do it from time to time. usually, it's when the nights are a little colder and you can't seem to sleep. it's the same old thing, each and every time. he tells you you should get home, but not after a quick walk together with him. you'd chat about the little things, and he'd even shyly try to hold your hand in such a moment. after that, he personally escorts you back to your residence, and never forgetting to leave without a kiss goodnight. it may be a simple kiss on the back of your hand, or you might get up for a quick kiss on the cheek. you don't know what you do to him.

gepard doesn't strike me as a type that knows a lot in this area. he was born and raised as a noble child, and then went straight into becoming a protector of the city he grew up in. he'd feel a little flustered at a few things, the ideas and thoughts that come to him while together with you. he's even more embarrassed as he goes to his sister for advice on how to deal with such emotions. he reads books, fiction of romance that he does best to turn into your reality. it's not perfect— he's still clueless on what's a really good date— but he's always trying harder just for you.

it's not often that he gets free time, but once he does, he's quick to seek you out... after his sister of course. for many good reasons, actually. other than the usual check in with his sister he loves so dearly, she is more helpful than most others despite her teasing. serval is a big source of support in his relationship with you, not to say you two can't handle it yourselves. he's just rather clueless about love as a whole sometimes, and she's there to give him a little nudge in the right direction. thanks to her, gepard brought you flowers once, and he does it every so often.

never underestimate the lengths he'd go for you. he may be constantly out there in the front lines trying to combat the antimatter legion and the fragmentum, and he may be busy with training the guards or some other silvermane business, but he would always keep you in mind. you're part of his motivation, and you've grown to be the biggest part of it. you could tell him it's nothing important, if you ask for something, like a favour or likewise, but because it's you, he'll put it right at the top of his priorities. you are his priority.

dates are difficult, especially when you're captain of the guards. walking around with him attracts more attention than any other thing, but it doesn't stop him from inviting you out. the luxuries of belobog would be easy for him to indulge in, as a landau and as captain, but truly, simply spending time with him is enough. your favourite dates are ones where you freely walk aimlessly in the day, perhaps after a bite to eat. fresh snowfall is light upon the city streets, unlike the eternal freeze. you find it hard to resist temptation, letting yourself be swept off your feet for a sweet kiss in the everlasting winter snow.

gepard landau has an immense lack of charm. he's stubborn, he's uncompromising, and maybe even a little dense or a little blunt. but the brighter side of these qualities always show around you. he'll find a way to see you, and he won't rest until he has. his lack of knowledge in this department has him cutely flustered from time to time, but also has him doing unknowingly romantic things. he loves you, and he wants you to know that.

[skydaemon]

does anyone want to hear the worst iwtv thought i've ever had? spoilers

so yknow how there's been a load of hints this season (and some last season) that claudia won't be killed by sunlight like she was in the book, but will die in a fire? i can't recall every instance right now, but in ep 4 there was her talk w santiago and daniel's question about the theatre, both of which could just be hinting at the fire in general, or could be suggesting that claudia dies in the theatre fire. there's loads more examples that someone else collated, but i can't find that right now. considering armand and louis are together in the present, it seems unlikely louis knows armand killed claudia, so if she died accidentally (or "accidentally") it would make sense for them to possibly have trauma bonded or just stayed together, rather than being torn apart the way they were in the book. again, could just be coincidence, or could be foreshadowing.

but i was watching ep 4 today in the scene where claudia confronts louis about armand and i found myself offhandedly thinking that the embers from louis' photographs were going everywhere, and they could start a fire.

then i stopped fucking DEAD.

because this episode sure focused a lot on the fact that louis is learning to control fire, huh? weird, since it's not a skill we see him use in present day. also showed he's not totally in control of it, and that he gets emotional and sets things on fire. so of course my brain jumped to the worst possible conclusion: what if louis set the theatre on fire and it killed claudia?

now, it's totally possible that, as in the book, louis just sets the theatre on fire in response to claudia's death. but before i could snuff out the terrible thought, another one followed: if he did, does he know?

because to me, there are four options. 1: he didn't kill her and he knows it. boring, basic, as per. 2: he killed her and he doesn't know. armand has mind-wipe powers that he's clearly used on louis, and it seems pretty in-character for him to hide this from louis. it would be absolutely devastating as a reveal and i KNOW jacob would kill me by acting it. 3: he killed her and he knows. this would be so INTERESTING!!! like retroactively making it canon that louis killed his daughter/sister/best friend and has been dealing with that for the last seventy-five years has INSANE implications and that would destroy me. 4, and possibly the most awful: he didn't kill her but armand made him think he did. this would explain the way louis in the present is significantly more under armand's thumb when daniel arrives compared to their 40s relationship, and why louis is so fucked in the head. it is so fucking juicy i want to rip into it with my teeth like a ripe mango.

anyway, very possible none of this will turn out to be right, but it was such an arresting thought in the moment that i felt pressed to share it.

[lalacliffthorne]

okay, so, I kinda hadn't planned on doing this; I hadn't even thought about it - whoops 🙈 there was literally just a before and after Azriel and Reader started dating in my head lol

but since so many of you asked and since it would be criminal not to - let's think about it ;)

the one where they stop being idiots 💞

okay, so I see a few ways of how this could go

let's look at two

as hinted in all the before-drabbles --

there have been moments

like

moments

like when either of you stares at the other for too long

or lingers in a hug

or the two of you are somehow always near each other

you get the gist

so we got all those lil moments

piling up, until technically, even an idiot should see that you really like Azriel

and that Azriel -

well, is down very, very bad

which, of course, means you have no clue

okay, so you kinda do

it's hard to ignore the tingling feeling in your belly

and that rising feeling in your chest whenever Azriel just looks at you

but you're very good at pushing that away

bc -

it's not that serious, right?

and even if you catch Azriel staring at you and he never looks away, just gets that twinkle in his eyes

and he always seems to linger a little too long when he's close, helping you with your jacket or brushing away a lash stuck on your cheek

and his gaze flickers down to what you swear is your lips -

there's really no way he actually likes you like that.

let alone feels his breath hitch every time you're close or gets that plummeting feeling in his chest when you as much as brush him

and even if there's some kind of attraction

there's no way that he has fallen for you just the same way you have quietly, creepingly and incredibly hard - fallen for him

...

yeah

since you are friends and living with a bunch of busy bodies

it doesn't take too long until at least one of them gets tired of watching the two of you be, frankly, idiots

maybe it's Rhys

over his not-so-subtle-hints and mischievous smirks, just turning towards you one evening in the kitchen

"alright, love - please tell me you're actually clueless and simply don't see that Az is down ridiculously bad for you?"

or maybe it's Mor

accidentally, literally blurting it out at brunch

something along the lines of "oh, yeah; of course he remembered, he remembers everything, plus he's completely in love with you, so -"

before growing still and becoming more wide-eyed than you have ever seen her

or maybe it's Cassian

after one drink too many, throwing an arm over your shoulder and raising his brows as he rumbles: "look, sweets, I love you. but if I have to watch Az stare longingly at you for another day, I'll lock the two of you in the pantry until you confess that you're completely in love with each other and make out. so, please, put the man out of his misery."

let's face it

it's probably all of them

bc they're just so over seeing Az pine after you and you pine after Az

and if you two would just talk about this -

anyway

you could've waved off one of them with a weak giggle and a "you're seeing things"

but three of your best friends -

who all know Azriel better than anyone else does -

two actually around both of you on a daily basis -

yeah, that's kinda hard to ignore

so suddenly, you start to notice everything

like everything

which makes your heart go into absolute overdrive whenever Azriel just looks at you

suddenly, you can't help but notice every little detail of him

and how he's acting around you

and how he's just insanely, annoyingly beautiful

and it does very strange things to your sanity

because suddenly, there's this tiny little voice in the back of your head that's whispering what if

and bc you can't be around Azriel without feeling heat wash into your cheeks and your breath becoming shaky and heart tumbling -

it's a bit of a mess.

and you really should say something

because it's getting increasingly, ridiculously difficult to keep yourself from leaning up and kissing him whenever he stares at you for too long, that half-crease in his cheek -

but you chicken out every time

and you kinda have a reason for that!

bc you love these boys

and what if something goes wrong and the others are wrong after all and you are wrong and he doesn't actually like you

bc then you would mess things up and you can't risk that and -

yeah

it really is a bit of a mess

well, until

that fateful almost-kiss

(pls don't kill me for the edging)

you're pretty sure it was an almost-kiss

like, 80 %

you turn it over enough in your head to be mostly sure Azriel wasn't just - about to wipe cake of your cheek or smth

just like you turn over the rest of the night you spent in your room with him

curled up on your bed, watching movies

ending with you falling asleep with your head on his chest

bc again

you're about 80 % sure you caught him staring at your lips at least twice

which means -

now

you are really screwed.

bc damn that thing messes with your head

I mean sure

the whole does he feel that tingling attraction too or am I seeing things-problem sorta went out of the window

but still

what if it was just a moment-thing?

or if maybe he doesn't like like you and it's all just physical attraction?

what if it isn't but it still doesn't work out bc at some point Azriel realises that you are actually not chill like he is and instead a lil ball of nerves and quirks??

what.

if.

you're basically quietly stewing in your own thoughts that are slowly getting out of control

and you just get more and more panicked, spinning in circles

until -

you lose it

it's probably a moment when the two of you are alone

maybe you're in the kitchen, responsible for making dinner for a change

and the silence is, at least for you, for once not calm like it always is with Azriel

instead, it feels like the air is buzzing and your heart does weird maneuvers and everytime you just get into close vicinity to Az, you feel like you're about to burst

and somewhere between chopping vegetables and putting cuttlery onto the table

you suddenly end up crowded against the counter

with Azriel towering over you, impossibly close

and he stills when he realises, in the middle of taking plates out of the cabinet, his eyes piercing yours

and your heart is racing because you can feel him

and because it feels like his gaze is pinning you to the spot

and because he's so close

and maybe Az sees something in the way you're staring up at him, wide-eyed and panicked

maybe he even feels the way your breath suddenly flutters

or how your heart is pounding painfully against your ribs

but Azriel slowly, carefully puts down the plate in his hand, placing it on the counter behind you

not once looking away

and then his lips curve a little and you're pretty sure the world lurches at the sight

it always feels like just looking at him causes a knife to twist under your ribs because he's just so damn beautiful

but right now, he looks fucking heavenly

the warm kitchen lights throwing shadows under his jaw, making his cheekbones look even sharper

that barely there crease in his cheek as his gaze slowly drag over your face

and he's tall and all broad shoulders and piercing eyes

and he looks at you the way he did before the almost-kiss

and suddenly

you just cannot keep it in any longer

"So, Mor said you're in love with me?"

The second you blurt out the words, you feel your eyes widen.

Well shit.

Azriel blinks, his lips parting; like maybe, for once, he has not forseen this turn of events.

You wouldn't blame him. You're currently wondering whether looking at him for too long has made your brain short-circuit.

"I mean -" You stare up at him, heat rising into your cheeks while your heart is pounding against your ribs. "I - okay, I didn't mean to say that, I, uhm, I just - thought about that thing that happened the other day; well, almost happened, and uh -" Your voice is actually shaking a bit now and sounds a little like you're about to faint, and that's not that far off, because shit -

"l mean, uhm -" Your throat finally gives up like it has decided to shut you up before you can make things worse.

And that's when you realise Azriel is still staring at you.

Only suddenly his iris looks like molten gold, and his gaze is a little feverish as it darts over your face, deep and heated and like he's trying to drink you in as his lips slowly curve upwards.

"Remind me to get her back for this."

His deep voice sends tingles down your spine, because you have never heard it this low and hoarse before, and it takes you a moment until the meaning of the mumbled words reaches you.

Your lips part, and suddenly, your heart feels like it's trying to escape your chest.

"Get her back for what?" Your whisper is so breathless, you almost swallow it.

There are creases in Azriel's cheek that make your knees feel like jello as he stares down at you, something feverish and heated in his eyes when he mumbles hoarsely: "For telling you before I could."

Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart does one huge jump. Then it stills.

"What?" Your voice sounds so breathy, you're not sure Azriel even heard it, at least until scarred fingers slip under your chin, a thumb softly brushing over your cheek as his eyes narrow a little, the crease in his cheek deepening.

"You think I was this close to kissing your just for shits and giggles?" Azriel would sound dry if there wasn't that slight edge to his hoarse voice, if his eyes weren't flickering over your face feverishly and carefully, almost anxiously. You think you can feel his breath hitch and stutter when your nose almost brushes his, and suddenly you realise he's gotten really close, close enough that you can feel his breath on your lips and his scent making your head swim.

"No?", you somehow manage to whisper, your voice almost breaking.

Azriel makes a noise at the back of his throat, deep and a little desperate; his nose nudges yours, and as a shiver runs up your spine and your breath stills in your throat, he mumbles "No." and dips his head to kiss you.

And you're pretty sure the world just stops.

Becomes so quiet you can hear your heart rising in a wild flutter, the way your breath shudders as you exhale in slow motion, and the quiet sound Azriel makes deep in his chest as his hands slide to the back of your neck.

And then he's kissing you. And his lips are warm and soft and pressing onto yours more feverishly with the second, and your hands rise to slide up his waist, hold onto him, and suddenly, you're not even close to being close enough.

Your legs are shaking when you move, push closer, until your chest is pressing into Azriel's, and he makes another soft noise before slipping his fingers into your hair; his body moving yours backwards until he's crowding you against the counter and you feel the cabinets press against your legs. Then Azriel deepens the kiss, his lips parting yours, and suddenly, you feel like starlight.

and with that

pretty much every question just vanishes.

erased by the way Azriel is kissing you, deep and feverish and desperate, like you're oxygen and he's been underwater for years

dinner's completely forgotten as you move through the kitchen, hips bumping against the counters and the table until you end up on the couch

Azriel's hands gripping your waist as you straddle him, your fingers buried in his hair as your bodies mold into each other and Az begins to figure out the 100 different ways to kiss you

and somewhere in the back of your brain

the part that isn't completely consumed by the way his chest is pressing into yours and scent is filling your lungs and body melts into yours

you wonder how a)

you ever made it without kissing him

without feeling his warm skin beneath your fingers and the taste of his lips and the way his hands slip under your shirt and press you closer

without hearing the tiny sounds he makes, deep and a little breathless as he's kissing you and you're kissing him back

and b)

how you're supposed to stop

bc now that you know what kissing Azriel feels like

you're really not sure how long you'll be able to go for without it.

(he does actually tell you the thing he's gonna give Mor shit for spilling for for the next decade

mumbled against your lips

and you're not sure how your heart doesn't give out with how far it leaps

but somehow, you manage to whisper those three words back

and Azriel makes a noise that causes your breath to tumble, bc it sounds like he doesn't quite believe it

and so you mumble it a few more times, until he kisses the words from your lips and you kiss them back onto his and neither of you can breathe)

of course there's the other option as well

the one where Azriel just can't help himself anymore

the one where you're sitting next to him in a quiet corner of the library or on the couch or in the passenger's seat of Rhys' car

and you're focused on something; your laptop, a book, your phone

and you have that slightly distant look on your face, your brows crunching

and even tho you're wearing a hoodie he's pretty sure belongs to Cassian, because it's massive on you, and your hair looks a lil wild

he feels like he's about to burst

because you're just too fucking beautiful

and he already missed his first shot bc of that fucking honking car

and it's getting hard to breathe and he really just can't take it anymore

and bc of that

he reaches over and slides his hand under your jaw, gently pulling it up and towards him

and for a moment, you're really confused, because does he want to show you something or -

and then he leans over

and suddenly

your head's empty

bc he's so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes and the shadows of a few freckles scattered over his nose and how long his lashes are and -

his scent washes over you, and your breath gets violently caught in your throat the same moment Azriel stills, barely an inch away

you can feel his breath on your skin and the warmth of him and how your heart is suddenly pounding against your ribs

and Azriel swears he will remember that moment until the day he dies

because you look like you've forgotten how to breathe

and you're staring at him in a way that makes every sense of doubt he had ever had about himself trickle away until there's nothing left but that harsh pulsing feeling in his chest

and he swears to himself he's gonna tell you he's hopelessly, utterly in love with you like a complete idiot

that he has been falling since the day you waltzed into the lives of him and his best friends

and how instead of crashing, the way you beam at him has given him wings

and a bunch of other stuff that won't even come close to describing how you make his heart beat out of his chest and breath hitch and whole being settle

but right now, he needs to kiss you

because he's been an absolute idiot for waiting this long

and he feels like if he waits just a second longer, he's gonna explode into a million pieces

and so

his heart pounding against his ribs and his breath getting stuck in his throat

he dips his head and kisses you

and then, just for a while, he forgets about anything and everything that's not you

@ailyr92 @azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secretlyhers @knmendiola @luvmoo @azriels-mate2 @bookishbroadwaybish @maybe-a-winchester @stayinglow-exploringworlds @harrystylesfan2686 @icey--stars @ssmay123

[theminecraftbee]

So, here's the thing:

Tango knows that Zedaph is this close to staging an intervention.

He lies against the wiring for Decked Out and stares at the ceiling. He should probably be more concerned about that. Early-season Tango would be concerned about that; a situation getting bad enough that Zedaph, of all people, is ready to stage an intervention is normally a sign it's gotten pretty dang bad. But he's close. He's so close. And it's not like he's worried, not anymore.

He'd been worried, once? Like, he'd been scared, at some point of what the Frozen Citadel was starting to do to him. But now that he's there--

If he's asked, Tango will say it's mutualism, and not elaborate, because if anyone stages enough of an intervention to stop Decked Out from finishing what it's started, he's probably going to scream. He's probably going to always wonder. Worst of all, he won't finish the game on time. So like, so what if it's eating him a little? Or a lot? Or basically completely, given that he's pretty sure the damage is irreversible at this point?

Anyway, it doesn't matter. Start of the season Tango probably would care more, but like, it's mutual. Decked Out gets to eat Tango. Use him as an appropriate game piece. Sometimes as a processor. To do repairs. Whatever. It's important for the whole process. And Tango gets a sick game. Which, for some, sounds like an absurd trade-off, but it's not just the game, okay?

It's not just--

If it were just "I need to let my accidentally very sentient and very large base eat me to finish the game", he might do it? But he wouldn't, like, be actively conspiring to hide the fact that he's starting to be physically incapable of breathing like, normal oxygen and stuff. He wouldn't be conspiring to hide just how literal the shop item allowing you to control the gamemaster is. He wouldn't be trying to hide how close he is to just--being another part of Decked Out. Not being a "Tango" as an individual, but being a part of the machine. Basically a really fancy redstone component.

If it were just "he's really proud and he'd be sad if it took longer", he wouldn't have hung a sheep on the outside of the building to make sure some part of Decked Out knows that Zedaph is its friend, once there isn't a Tango to remind it of that properly. He would have asked Zedaph to actually do that intervention he's planning.

He didn't. He acted like he had several more weeks than he probably did. But it's fine. Decked Out ate the fear, anyway, so he can't feel it, and whatever sense of desire to like, not be redstone component was probably eaten also, and. And.

He's not sure how to describe it in a way that doesn't make him sound insane, but--

It's so close. Decked Out is so close to eating him completely. And that should be terrifying, if that weren't the first thing that got dissolved away, if he hadn't been scared since forever. Maybe, somewhere, there's part of him that is scared. There's a lot of him that knows he should be.

But those moments, the ones he's having more and more, where he forgets he's Tango. Where he forgets he's anything but part of the machine. And he's part of something big, and great, and he has a specific use, and he's aware for all of it but not aware of being himself, and he can feel exactly how he's important to the great machine and he does his job and absolutely everything else fades away entirely and he is the Game Master and even that's not an individual identity it's part of a whole it's part of something beautiful it's part of something so, so alive while not being alive at all and, and then--and then he's not done being eaten yet. And the Tango comes in. The fear, the insecurity, the, the flaws.

And he'd just lie there, and he'd feel it. The almost-just-a-part. The sense of just--being, and not being anyone in particular, but being. The lack of self. He'd feel the voltage from the redstone wires and try to capture it again, and be unable to, not on his own.

Not while he's left as Tango, at least a little bit uneaten.

So. Uh. He told you he didn't know how to describe it without sounding insane. But he'll never forgive himself. Never forgive himself if he doesn't find out what happens when it's done. What it's like to just--be a part of Decked Out and nothing else. What it feels like to give in completely.

Therefore. Zedaph. Intervention. Pretend he's better than he is so Zedaph doesn't do that. It shouldn't be long now. The amount of time he's aware and Tango is--less. The amount of fear is--it's entirely gone now. The amount he thinks "gee beginning of season Tango would say this is a bad plan" is almost zero.

The game is almost ready to open.

If he can just hold out that long, then there won't be anything anyone could do.

They'll be too busy having fun with the game, anyway. With any luck, no one will notice.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 13

Ah it’s “coordinate with the carpet” day.

John could probably say “2+2=3” and Paul would be like “Oh you're sooo right, John.”

Literally the ADHD antics (jumping over a chair because it’s there and you can and it would be funner than going around) are so relatable.

Ringo putting Zac’s picture up? I don’t know much about him as a dad. Does anyone know? I mean I know part of the reason he and Mo left india was because they missed their kids, and in late 66 when John was making HIWTW and Paul was working on TFW and George was off learning filthy eastern ways, Ringo stayed home and ‘enjoyed the baby’. Was he a really good dad?

John: I really liked how that lead singer was singing so soft and nice. Paul: like this, John? Like this? John? John, look at me, do you like this?

Literally why are you even there, Yoko. Like, genuinely, not for the bands sake or anything, but for your own sake, go find somewhere else to be! Something, something, one of the few ways to find success as a woman was to attach yourself to a man and she was hustling with the best feminist tools available okay, okay. Ugh, I just don't know if I could stomach it.

I heard John say “Rickie and the Red Streaks” and I was like, ummm, did you mean “Suzie and the Red Stripes”? But apparently it’s a real band. They were in the same Cavern show as the Beatles when they came back from Hamburg but never made it big. And Paul was purposely referencing them with Linda's pretend band because, as he said, he would have been happy to just have been them instead of the Beatles. 

“John, can you take a little bit of bass off your guitar?” The faces. Paul told him to take some bass off a minute ago, didn't he? Or he just knows how much John hates to be told that. Anyway it's the silent communication for me.

Paul: *stops his little wordless moan-singing for two seconds*. John: Everybody had a wet drea–SING, Paul! Paul: Ooohh yeah! He’s sooo happy I’m melting. Paul McCartney wants one thing in this life, and it’s for John Lennon to tell him to sing.

“He would’ve been president, you know.” John, bless your naive, lovely heart. 

Paul: shrieking. John: moves the microphone the way a mom takes the sharpie out of her toddler’s hand. 

“If you can get ‘em off Mimi’s wall.” I have a hard time with Mimi. Sometimes she’s adorable. Sometimes she’s horrible. I really can’t get a read. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe John couldn’t either. 

This moment. My little ND baby. Someone just hit your g spot, didn’t they? But to be fair, it is incredibly impressive. Billy has never heard the song before, and he just jumps in with the perfect fill? I love Billy. So talented, such a cutie, so cool, so kind. And look at him. Having such a good time.

The silent communication again here. “Are you hearing this?” “Yeah, baby, I’m hearing this.” Then, John vocalizes the decision. How many Beatles decisions were made like this? Thinking specifically of Brian's account of their decision for him to manage, but probably this happened constantly. 

Yoko reading “The Beatles Complete History”. I love that she’s like, “Everything John tells me is ‘Paul this, Paul that, wah, wah, wah’. I need to get some cold hard facts.” 

Billy’s piano actually is insanely sexy though.

John: *complains about his rock and roll finger* Paul, turning up the scouse: Come on, son, now try your hardest. John continues, soft, needy' Lookie, look at him. *holding up his finger* Paul, genuine: Ah, I know. I just love the different ways they take care of each other. 

Poor George, dissociating himself into another dimension as John’s crooning about Paul’s eating habits. Look. At. How. He’s. Looking. At. Him. You’d think Paul was in that moment creating the heavens and the earth. Nope. Just rocking back and forth like a catatonic, probably getting crumbs all in his greasy beard.

But seriously HOW is everyone in this room watching these two men, taking in to account all of their behaviors, scream "All I want is you!" at each other and not forcing them immediately into either fucking or therapy or both?!

Ringo’s holey pocket, my beloved. 

The guy with the RP accent and the suit coming up to John like the bad guy in every American children’s movie. “I’ve spoken to Mr. Klein.” Dun, dun, dun.

[looseduke]

okay insane thought about names and the feelings i have about them as a transgender blended family kid. it requires a leap of logic where the fantasy high parent couples remain dating and get married or otherwise legally bind themselves together but follow me on this for a moment. also i don’t know or care if this follows canon im just deciding it does

gilear took sandra lynn’s last name

could not afford to change it after the divorce

gilear is just one of those ppl who really likes having the same last name as his life partners, doesn’t have to be his name, he just thinks it’s nice

(sandra lynn liked her name and though she has Many Issues and might have changed her name in an attempt at normalcy gilear’s name was definitely something outlandishly stupid and he suggested it first anyway so it worked out)

do u see where im going with this

gilear seacaster.

fabian is furious but this ain’t about him

something so funny about taking your (way funnier if they don’t even get married) girlfriend’s dead husband’s last name

he keeps faeth as a middle name bc it’s still a connection to fig that he values and wants to keep

anyway. jawbone hears about all of this. absolutely loves it. thinks it’s awesome

jawbone o’shaughnessy-faeth!

yes with the apostrophe and the hyphen. yes every time.

he likes the connection to gilear and fig as much as he does the one to sandra lynn <3

when consulted fig was SUPER enthusiastic about another dad. gilear was like sigh. that might as well happen. im already being dunked upon by my mean stepson. go ahead.

okay the grand finale. the reason i even made this fucking post

adaine kills her dad, gets adopted, and starts to wonder if she should change her name

adaine makes amends with her sister, and starts to wonder if she should keep it

jawbone lets her know right away that he’ll support her decision no matter what, but it takes a long time for her to decide

it takes watching gilear and fabian bicker over their shared last name, watching fig get sappy over gilear holding onto the name faeth, watching fig and jawbone get sappy over THEIR shared last name, watching sandra lynn hide a smile whenever it comes up, watching, watching, watching

watching her sister learn and grow and love her unconditionally

she makes her decision, and when her dad brings her home from the fantasy dmv, there’s a new name on her ID

adaine abernant-o’shaughnessy-faeth. yes all three names. yes with the apostrophe. yes with the hyphens. every time

it’s for her dad, yes, for the man who gave her a home, who helped her find her strength, who is always her safe space, but it’s for more then that too

it’s for her sister, who for better or worse is in all of her earliest memories. who never underestimated her. who’s trying, every day

it’s for her sister, who called her awesome on the first day of school. who’s always there for her. who wears her heart on her sleeve and teaches adaine it’s okay to be emotional. who’s her best friend

it’s for the man who took her in when he had next to nothing to offer, who shared his extra garlic knots and vending machine snacks, who hosted his daughters strange friends night after night without question or complaint

and it’s for the elven woman sitting across from her at the dinner table, who understands her greatest fear better then anyone else and has built a life for herself despite her mistakes. who protected her on their quest. who opened her house for about 6 teenagers to live there permanently and anywhere between 3 and 10 more to hang out as much as they want

adaine abernant-o’shaughnessy-faeth, the people’s oracle <3

[yuri-is-online]

When He Sees Me: Azul Ashengrotto

a/n: this is supposed to be part of a series about the boys who start out with a less than good opinion of Yuu falling in love with them anyway. Azul wasn't supposed to be first he was just the most cooperative. I will add a link to the rest when they become available, but it will take a while because this is really fucking long. Like 6,261 words long.

notes: SPOILERS FOR CH. 3 AND AZUL'S BACKSTORY. Azul is thirsty for Yuu, nothing explicit just mild mild spice. They/them pronouns used for Yuu, but there is a reference to things "girls find attractive" that isn't meant to be aimed at Yuu and discussion of the myth of Princess Kaguya. Morons in mutual denial/pining, references to the events of Azul's labwear and Ruggie's ceremonial robes vignette. Edit: other fics can be found on my masterlist here.

Azul has always been a dreamer, in both senses of the word.  When he wants, he wants with intensity that borders on insanity, it is only natural for those thoughts to invade his dreams.  When he was younger his subconscious would engage in a painful loop of equally impossible scenarios, sometimes positive but mostly extremely, horribly negative.  They read more like memories being played on a sickening repeat, harassments and insults that he can’t run or hide from because his dream won’t let him move at all.  Now that he’s older he seldom has those dreams, tucking the hurts away behind mountains of successful plans for the future.�� Tucked away but not dealt with, his overblot clearly proved that.  Azul is no stranger to having dreams, no, but lately he has been experiencing something new.  A dream that plays on repeat, never changing but with an underlying feel to it that makes him think if he just had a bit more imagination he could direct the flow.  It is a memory, sort of like those other, painful dreams though this one doesn’t hurt quite the same, less painful and more… pining.

He’s standing in front of the photos at the Atlantica Memorial Museum, eyes steady on the photographs.  “You have talent.”  the Ramshackle prefect says with such enviable confidence.  “You are amazing as it is, even without stealing anyone else’s powers.”  He looks at them, he searches desperately for the lie, for so long he misses the timing for his line but the dream keeps playing yours.  “You work so hard, determination is much harder to master than magic.”  

“You think that?” he asks, begs really because in this dream he gets to wrap himself up and live in this moment where someone sees him as his subconscious plays your words on loop.

“You have talent… You are amazing… You matter…” 

He rises from slumber, but doesn’t wake.

“Nyaaah who does Azul think he is!”  Grim whines and you sigh, for what feels like the eight hundredth time but is probably just the third.  “He can’t just scam us outta money like that!”  You give a noncommittal grunt and Grim takes his grumbling to under his breath where it belongs while you ruminate on the morning’s events on your way back to Ramshackle.  You had woken up to Azul knocking on your door with a photograph of Grim… fighting with Lucius?  You weren’t entirely clear on the details, Grim stole some food or something you couldn’t really care less, but Professor Trien certainly would, which was the point Azul had made with a smile on his face and an outstretched hand.  He needed a “small favor” he said, just follow him to Ignihyde and help him and Idia out with a project Idia was working on.  He tried spinning it to you as helping out Ortho, which hey you did care about, let it not be said that the prefect of Ramshackle did not care about sweet little Ortho Shroud.  You just… didn’t trust Azul as far as you could throw him, so when the part he asked Grim to retrieve was revealed to be worth a gajillion thaumarks you were not surprised and you did not care.  Grim, of course, freaked out and the two older students laughed at him.  Laughed at you both really, and sent you back to your dorm with a can of tuna for Grim’s trouble and a coupon to the Monstro Lounge for yours.

That you decided as you stared down at the little golden ticket, did piss you off.  You were tempted to light it on fire, but that stupid part of your brain that got excited when you heard laundry detergent was on sale at Sam’s wouldn’t let you.  Like you would offend and be permanently cursed by the gods of couponing if you did; so you tucked it away in your wallet and ran through the list of students you didn’t currently want to beat with a steel chair for someone who would actually use it.  “Hey prefect, you got a moment?” 

“Ruggie.”  You snap out of your thoughts to see an angel standing outside Ramshackle’s door.  He looks at you a little confused, but still peppy.

“That’s my name!  Now as I was sayin, you got a moment?  I’ve got an opportunity for you.”

~~~~

In a game of chess the player who moves first has an inherent advantage.  That advantage, however, is not absolute which is something Azul is cruelly reminded of when RUGGIE BUCCHI waltzes into his restaurant, whistling, with his carefully played opening in his hands.  “Hey, is this thing real?  Prefect said you gave it to them but that sounds fishy.  Why would Azul be giving out things for free?”  

“That’s confidential.”  he pushes up his glasses and Ruggie simply leans back on his heels, hands behind his head grinning like a well fed cat.  “What I am anxious to know is why you have it?  It was not meant for you.”

“What’s it to ya’?” he has enough sense to keep his annoying laugh to himself but it’s echoing in Azul’s ears anyway.  His gaze flickers to Floyd, weighing the pros and cons of involving the twins in this… admittedly private affair but that seems to be enough for Ruggie.  He drops the easy going act,  “No seriously what is it you’re trying to do, they seemed seriously pissed.”  

“Who says I’m trying to do anything?” Anger was… not the reaction he was expecting but the look on Ruggie’s face is making him feel especially like he should have.  Like there was something incredibly obvious he was missing here.  His sigh just punctuates that.

“Because you're Azul.”  He says flatly.  “Look it’s not my business and I don’t want it to be, are you gonna give me a free drink or not.”  Azul takes the coupon with his best customer service smile and tries to make another plan.

~~~~

“You are amazing.”  He gets to look at them this time, see their honest admiration.  He wants to reach for it, hold it up to the light and admire it from every possible angle.  His hand moves, agonizingly slow like he’s reaching through jelly, desperate for purchase as it lands on their cheek, running his thumb along the curve.  Azul is a merfolk, utterly unaware of what it feels like to drown.  But he surrenders himself to the tide as he guides them closer, closer, to him and the realization he never wants to let go.

Azul wakes up alone and upset, a good thirty minutes before his alarm which just adds to his frustrations.  He fumbles for his glasses and goes for the safe next to his bed, if he’s awake he can work, he should work it will take his mind off of… whatever this is.  It isn’t important, his bad dreams always fade away over time, he will conquer this, he has to.  A notification lights up his phone.  It’s from magicam, from Cater who he usually ignores but he opens it anyway.  The post is a dump of short videos of Heartslabyul students messing around in the maze, there was an unbirthday party yesterday complete with pastries and those weird games he never understands the appeal of no matter how many times Riddle explains.  There’s Trey posing like a middle aged man with his flamingo, Cater running around conducting mock interviews with the flowers, and a number of students making nonsensical toasts with admittedly nice looking china.  And in the final video, if he pauses it at exactly 7.23 seconds there’s the prefect.  They look clueless, disappointed even as they watch Grim demand he be allowed to play croquet, it’s cute but that’s not where his gaze goes.  Tiramisu.  It’s difficult, painful even to make, but they seem to be enjoying their slice.  It really would be an excellent item to add to the Monstro Lounge’s limited time menu for numerous reasons completely unrelated to… whatever this feeling was.  If he keeps the paused video up and next to his paperwork while he draws up his plans, no one needs to know.

~~~~

  You wake up with a sneeze a good two hours before your alarm and if you were actually awake you have no doubt the timing would fill you with righteous fury.  The moon still peaks through your window, soothing your hypothetical temper slightly as you meander out of your bed towards it.  Ramshackle has always been a good place to watch the stars, at least according to Tsunotarou.  You’ve always been more partial to the moon, there was something comforting about its constant presence.  No matter where you went in your old world, even if the constellations changed the moon would always stay the same.  If you focus on this one’s shape, if you ignore the snoring monster in your bed or the shape of the window you’re looking through, you can almost trick yourself into thinking that things are still the same.  That you will get back to sleep and see your loved ones when you wake up tomorrow.  A strange bile builds up in your throat and you turn away from the window towards your desk.  The photographs that decorate it are filled with things that should be impossible.  Leona standing on a flying broom somehow bored out of his mind, Jack and Deuce posing at a track practice, Ace trying to teach Grim a card trick, but if you were giving awards for the most out of place… There’s eight people in the photo, three humans, one monster, one beastman, and three merfolk, but only two sport tails.  Azul looks exactly the same as the day you met him, dressed in a neatly pressed dorm uniform with that stupid hat covering his beautiful, perfect hair.  You can’t decide what’s more unreal to you, the Leech twins' appearance or the location of the photograph, but well they sort of go hand in hand don’t they?  Your eyes settle on Azul.  He had refused to show his true form during the trip, if you didn’t know any better you would assume he was human like you but not like you.  There’s something undeniably magical about him, beautiful even.  He belongs there, in that photo under the sea, in this world.  The moon illuminates the photo with her gaze, cold, distant, completely out of your reach but oh so very beautiful.  

You take a deep, shuddering breath and try to throw away your thoughts.  

~~~~

“Hench-human!  Look at me look at me!”  There are many days you feel like Grim’s parent as opposed to his… dorm leader?  Classmate?  Fellow traveler?  Whatever you were actually supposed to be.  

“I’m looking Grim, I promise!”  You cheer him on, waving up at the monster who is happily flying above you on his little broom.  “You’re doing great!”  Coach Vargas had gone out of his way to find it for him so he could “train his muscles” with everyone else in flying class.  It was cute, soothed the wound of not being able to participate yourself just a bit.  The list of exercises Vargas handed you certainly didn’t.

“Slacking doesn’t build muscles!”  You knew it was stupid to want to participate in a class that’s literal purpose was to teach students to channel magic, but it still sucked to be expected to do yoga in the corner of a field while Ace, Deuce, and now Grim get to zoom around above.  At least you know Deuce isn’t making fun of you and will give you a ride if asked.  “Hey while you’re at it would you mind keeping an eye on Azul?  He’s supposed to be practicing over next to the bleachers.”  You blink, stupidly at Vargas. 

“I’m sorry?”  Vargas points towards what is usually your exile corner and see- a sight.  One you can immediately tell Azul would probably rather you never have ever seen.  Your beautiful merman, rival?  Acquaintance?  Object of affection?  Is pathetically hopping up and down with a stern look of determination on his face like he’s trying to negotiate with the broom rather than fly it.  Your heart beats uncomfortably close to the front of your chest.  Cold.  Out of reach.  And yet so blindingly pathetically beautiful you have to choke down bile as you make your way over to your little corner and begin clumsily stretching and keeping your gaze firmly on Grim out of habit.  You hear rather than see him notice you.

“Prefect!”  he splutters, chokes really and you have to physically bite your tongue to ground yourself enough to speak normally and completely lose it when you turn to face him.  Azul’s winded, the tentacle waves of his hair are shimmering in the late afternoon sun with what’s probably sweat, but he doesn’t smell bad at all.  His glasses are slanted and he’s clinging onto his broom so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

“Azul!  Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.”  It comes out as a squeak and you break eye contact immediately.  “I just-” you don’t want him to think you’re spying on him.  “I usually-” well that just sounds like an excuse.  “I can’t fly!”  The smile on your face has got to look stupid but when you look at Azul he doesn’t seem to mind.  If anything he relaxes in both posture and expression.

“I can see that.”  He smiles and his eyes shimmer for a brief second before reaching to push his glasses and his persona back into place.  “Does Coach Vargas always have you exercise during flying class?”

“Pretty much.”  You don’t feel like you should complain really, it would be a bit unfair on paper if you were the only one relaxing during a class filled with physical activity.  “Crewel convinced him to let me do yoga because I ‘need to relax more’ or something like that.”  

“Do you not find exercise relaxing?”  It’s a relatively simple question but this is Azul asking so it feels like the start of a survey that ends with you agreeing to sign away your immortal soul.  So naturally, 

“Not when everyone can watch.”  you answer as honestly as possible because according to the dark mirror you don’t have one anyway.  If Azul notices your skepticism it doesn’t stop him from plowing on ahead.

“I can understand that.” He lets out what you think is his best performative sigh, hand over his heart in a manner you are sure even Vil would compliment as well crafted showmanship.  “Really there’s no reason for this school to force us to participate in activities we simply aren’t meant for.”  You have to swallow a giggle at his use of “we,” that earlier display must not have been a one time thing.  Sure would be a shame if you asked Floyd about it, he definitely wouldn’t tell you embarrassing things about his best friend.  “Do you not find the lounge relaxing?”  He asks the question with the same tone as his previous monologue, but it catches you off guard.  You had expected this line of questioning to go in a different direction.  Maybe he wanted to know just how close you were to the staff and see if he could use you as an in, not a google review.

“It’s very relaxing.”  You aren’t just trying to flatter him, though you won’t object if he decides to puff up with pride from your praise.  “There really is- well I certainly haven’t ever seen another place like it,  I just have other places I should be spending my money.”

“You know I can help with that right.”  You must look extremely unamused because he deflates slightly but doesn’t falter.  “The National Track and Field Meet is coming up relatively soon, and I’ve been making some… changes to the menu.  It’s meant to appeal to a different clientele than we typically serve.  As a human from a completely different world your perspective on such a switch could prove invaluable.”  You stare at him, hard, trying to figure what angle he’s working and can’t really hit on one.  Well beyond the obvious; he thinks this will make him money.

“Are you sure you don’t just want me to wait tables during the event?”  Azul’s offered you work before, usually through Floyd dramatically arriving at Ramshackle unannounced to slack off in your guest room because “Azul will never find me here.  Not if I close my eyes and hide behind little shrimpy.”  But you weren’t too sure if that arrangement could apply to an event.

“I’ve already secured Ruggie’s assistance with that, but if you’re interested in a paid position Jade will certainly need some help in the kitchens, well assuming you’re better at washing dishes than Grim.”  You both have a bit of a laugh, though yours is significantly less mean spirited.  “I can give you more details about the menu tomorrow night, assuming you are free.”

“I suppose I could find some time.”  you give your best impression of Azul’s own shrug and hope he isn't too insulted.  “Any fine print I should be concerned about before I completely agree to this?”  He pauses, you are tempted to say because he didn’t expect to make it this far, but realistically he’s probably just trying to pick out what part of his plan is safe to tell you.

“The waitstaff will all be wearing their ceremonial robes as a special uniform for the event, but since you would just be washing dishes I would recommend-”

“I’m sorry, do you mean those things everyone was wearing at orientation?”  You don’t mean to interrupt him, really you’re just confused.  “The Octavinelle dorm uniform looks just fine.”

“I’m pleased you like them.”  He means it, you can tell by how he stands just a little bit taller, stopping your heart for what you tell yourself is the briefest of seconds.  “Our school's ceremonial robes are extremely popular with the local girls, so I am hoping they will draw more outside attention to the lounge.” 

“The ceremonial robes?  Seriously?”  Not that you could ever have been considered an authority on what types of menswear was objectively attractive but you were a person with preferences and the ceremonial robes looked a bit difficult to take off.  Not that you have thought extensively about them or anything else you’ve seen Azul wear.

“Do you not find them attractive prefect?”  The fact Azul’s asking you seriously, with a touch of distress doesn’t register until you’ve inelegantly vomited up your response.

“Not really.  I mean from what I remember from orientation you looked good in them but I can’t say I like them better than your dorm uniform.  You even make the stupid hat work.”  You physically bite down on your tongue to keep from saying anything else incriminating but the damage is already done.  The poor man looks like a boiled octopus, red from the tip of his ears to the point of his nose.  “Azul?”  He coughs into his hand.

“Well, disagreements about fashion aside, I take it we have a deal?”

“Sure.  Just send me a message on magicam when you need me and I’ll be there.”  

~~~~

The location flickers in his peripheral vision, his focus wholly consumed by them.  He’s never touched them like this, they’d never let him hold them like this but those thoughts fizzle in the face of your memory.  “You are amazing.”  He kisses them slowly as he gently cradles their face.  Closer, he wants them closer but tauntingly, agonizingly they pull away as the scene settles.  He’s on land, in the vip room of the lounge arms wrapped tightly around their waist while they’re sitting in his lap.  Closer they’re not close enough to him they can still move away, but they show no sign of leaving.  They just stare down at him, into him seeing him for who he is and not flinching at the sight.  Closer.  They lean back into his kiss and he pulls, surprisingly strong, into a tighter embrace.  Closer.  In dreams you don’t need to breathe, he’s free to move his hand behind their head and maneuver them down.  Closer.  He pins their hand next to their head, intertwining their fingers.  Closer.  “You look good, you look beautiful.”  He shudders into them, and-

Wakes up dry heaving into his pillows with a scream.  He’s panting, desperately trying to convince himself it’s out of disgust but he knows that’s not the case.  Azul’s known for a while now just how he feels about them, he finds it ugly.  Not them, sevens never them, he doubts he could ever truly find them as insignificant as he did before losing his contracts ever again.  He untangles himself from his sheets and reaches for his glasses and phone, searching for the picture they’d taken at the museum.  They look so happy, in awe even, and if he wants to lie to himself he can pretend that’s his doing and not the allure of the sea working its magic on yet another human.  But Azul is a merfolk, he may admire the sea witch but he knows the tale of the mermaid princess just as well.  The love between her and her prince was always portrayed as pure, innocent, devoid of things like thirst and greed.  That’s the sort of love he thinks they deserve, the kind that’s not burdened by insecurities or possessiveness.  Who would love someone who constantly lies?  

“You are amazing as it is, even without stealing anyone else’s powers. You work so hard, determination is much harder to master than magic.”

If he closes his eyes he can still see your face as you say it.  You meant every word, he knows you did.  Even now you don’t really treat him all that differently than you do your other friends, his efforts are appreciated and respected according to the work he puts into them just like he’s always wanted.  A wry smile works his way to his lips.  How poor and unfortunate he is.

~~~~

“When you need me” came sooner than you expected.  As soon as you made it back to Ramshackle you had two messages from Azul, one letting you know it was him and the other saying he had a space available for you to buss tables tomorrow if you were still available.

“I haven’t forgotten about my original request, once closing tasks are complete you can expect a truly unique reward.”  

He texts like he speaks, professionally.  If you didn’t know he was still a student you’d assume he was twice his actual age and already established in an office somewhere.  Part of that was true you supposed, he did own the Lounge and was probably texting from his office.

“(* ^ ω ^) I’ll make sure to be on time!”

“Hench-human.”  You look up from your phone to see Grim sitting on his favorite armchair, he sounds deathly serious and his face is bent into a look of disappointment he usually only reserves for Ace.  He’s even crossing his arms like a disappointed parent.  “We need to talk.”  

“Did you puke on the bed again?”

“No!”  He drops the act for a brief second before remembering he’s supposed to be “the one in charge�� or something like that.  “But if you keep gigglin’ like that I’m gonna!”

“Like what?” you attempt to mimic his energy by folding your hands across your chest.

“Like you got a crush on that stupid octopus.”

“Oh.”  Oh.  You hadn’t really thought much about that.  On purpose really.  “Well you don’t have to do that.”  You had thought many things about Azul, felt a lot of things too.  Frustration, no one got to treat your friends that badly and then laugh about it.  Disappointment, someone so talented shouldn’t be wasting his time bullying others to feel better about himself.  He should be secure in his own successes.  Pity, but then again how else could he be expected to feel with his childhood having been what it was?  Anger, that made his actions all the more inexcusable, you didn’t really regret putting him in his place even if the method was… less than ideal.  Awe, you were aware most of your friends were still stuck firmly in anger.  Sure, Ace and Deuce didn’t have much of a problem buying things from the Lounge or using their point cards, but there still was a bit of a sting to the whole arrangement.  Grim might not have been capable of much but he could hold a grudge.  Especially when someone hurt you, it was exceptionally sweet.  You however…

It started with his overblot form.  Floyd never should have told you that’s what he actually looked like, you swear you forgot how to breathe for a solid minute.  Azul was beautiful, ethereal, and awe inspiring.  You didn’t even mind that he was actively trying to choke you with his tentacles, you were that tempted to let him.  Once he came to and came back to his human form, you were forced to swallow those feelings.  Tuck them away in the hopes that Azul would go back to being that distant pretty face he had been since he ran down Grim at orientation.  You told yourself you were content being friends with Riddle and the Heartslabyul gang, you didn’t need the acceptance of other dorms.  

But he hadn’t.  The trip to the museum apparently made the twins decide you were a friend; Floyd would follow you around when he got bored and demand you play with him, and if Jade had your schedule memorized no he didn’t prefect him ambushing you with an invitation to check out his club was completely coincidental.  Azul remained distant, only ever really approaching when he needed something or to make an offer.  It hurt that small part of themselves they’d been beating away with a stick, it hurt even worse when he reached out harder when they ignored him.  This world’s already hurt you enough, you don’t need to be pining over an emotionally unavailable guy who viewed everything in the world through material value.

“Mmmmm.”  Grim’s staring at you, clearly unconvinced and trying to not come off as worried.

“Really Grim.  I promise, no kissing fish for me.”  your phone pings and you see another message, from Floyd this time, and swipe to unlock just as the front door of Ramshackle nearly cracks off its hinges to announce his arrival.

“Shriiiiiiimpy, I’m so bored and Azul’s makin me work.”  A loud obviously fake whine rings through the foyer and you sigh.

Looks like you will be seeing Azul a bit sooner than expected.

~~~~

The lounge is chaos by the time you sprint through the mirrors into Octavinelle.  You scan the lounge frantically for Jade and settle on his retreating form heading towards the back office.  It would be undignified to sprint towards him so you force yourself to speed walk through the waves of customers towards Floyd’s usual section.  Another first year, one that actually belongs in this dorm, is floundering around trying to figure out why he’s even alive and nearly jumps out of his skin when you tap him on the shoulder.  “Sorry I’m late, can you let Azul know I’m here?”  He abandons you faster than a sinking ship and you barely resist the urge to scream at him to show a little gratitude.  The Monstro Lounge is a “gentleman's establishment.”  It doesn’t employ howler monkeys, but it sure does serve them.  You snap your best customer service smile into place and glide over to one such cherished customer whose glare is threatening to freeze you to the floor.  “I’m sorry about the wait, how can I serve you today?”

Meanwhile, back at the office, Azul is attempting to convince himself that he isn’t mad.  Really, he’s just disappointed and really how could he be that when Floyd has been such a cherished friend for so long and-

“Oya, Azul, you’re starting to resemble a boiled octopus, are you sure this hasn’t complicated your plans at all?”  Jade is usually, key word being usually, just as inconvenienced by his brother’s mood swings as anyone else.  But this time, this time, Azul thinks while his left eye threatens to spasm out of its socket, he has a slight feeling that Jade might have encouraged this one.  He’s smiling way too wide.

“Nonsense, I always have back up-”  Jade doesn’t let him finish his thought.

“Ah but we can’t just go calling the prefect for this can we?  Not when things aren’t perfect yet.”

“Just what are you getting out of this?”  He really shouldn’t have to beg, Jade seems surprised he’s even trying.

“Maybe I’m just a bit better at reading things than you are.”  And before Azul can try strangling Jade for that comment one of his students bursts into the back room panting as if he’d just run a marathon. 

“Dorm leader!  The prefect came over to take Floyd’s section.  Said to let you know they were here.”  He doesn’t respond immediately, he can see his plans going up in dust around him while Jade laughs beside him.

“There you see, Azul?  No need to worry.”  And as if the night couldn’t get any worse that damn moray bows to whisper in his ear.  “They came for you after all.”  

It really is a good night for unagi.

~~~~

The walk back to Ramshackle is quiet.  If you just keep your eyes on the path in front of you, the only thing you can hear is the chirp of an occasional cricket.  The sigh of an owl.  And of course the light click of the footsteps beside you, if you were extra quiet, you could maybe even hear Azul breathing.  It’s soft, if you could bring yourself to look at him maybe you would see that he’s just as nervous about this as you are.  

Not that “this” is anything special really.  You’ve worked closing shifts at the lounge before, and someone always walks you back.  Usually it’s Grim, he never actually helps with the work but he’s more than happy to show up at the end and claim some share of the reward for shepherding you home.  But this time the little weasel had decided not to show and, for some reason, Azul had asked to accompany you.  “For my sanity if nothing else.”  You hadn’t been able to speak since hearing that for fear your heart would leap right out of your mouth, you aren’t even entirely certain how you managed to nod an approval.  Not that Azul’s been much better, he hasn’t made eye contact with you since you started the walk back.  Or spoken.  You’d almost think he’s annoyed, or angry, if not for how the closer you get to your dorm the slower his steps get.  Maybe he doesn’t want things to end so soon either…

“The moon is beautiful tonight.”  He breaks his silence with a sigh and you choke slightly, eyes darting towards him warily even though you know for a fact that phrase doesn’t hold the same meaning here.  

“Ramshackle always has a great view of the night sky.”  you look up at the moon to avoid Azul’s quizzical gaze.  “It looks almost exactly like the moon in my world.”

“You enjoy watching it then, I take it?”  You don’t answer immediately, the question swirling up a myriad of contracting emotions and answers.

“Sometimes.”  You settle on a thought, haphazard as it feels.  “It’s funny, the longer I look at it the more it makes me think about a story I used to really like.”  

“Used to?”  You don’t have to look at Azul to know he’s doing the thing he always does while probing for information.  Yet you do anyway, the little unnecessary push he gives to his glasses is too cute.

“It just feels a bit too close to home now.”  It feels silly to say that, but then again, this is Azul.  He could also technically be considered to be from another world, so maybe he’d understand.   “There’s this bamboo cutter who finds a baby in one of the bamboo stalks he cuts and raises her as his daughter.  There’s always something just a bit off about her, when there’s a full moon out she stares at it and cries a whole lot, like there’s something up there she misses.  She’s extremely beautiful though so everyone kind of brushes that off, and after finding her the bamboo cutter starts finding gold in every bamboo stalk he cuts.”

“That’s unrealistic.”  scoffs Azul.  “There has to be a catch.”  You can’t help but laugh, of course this is where he’d choose to interrupt.

“It’s a story, Azul.  And besides you literally live in a world where magic exists calm down.”  He snorts and you quickly start talking before he can begin his protests.  “Anyway he starts finding gold inside the bamboo and becomes wealthy enough to be considered important.  His daughter grows up to be an otherworldly beautiful woman and gets a bunch of attention from all over the country, people call her a princess.  She’s so popular the emperor himself comes to see her and they get to talking. The two of them find they have a lot in common, so when the emperor proposes he’s sure she’ll say yes.”  Azul’s smart, you’re pretty sure he’s figured out the plot twist already by the way he’s set his jaw, but he makes no attempt to stop you.  Almost like he’s hoping you will prove him wrong.  “But she doesn’t.  She says she can’t marry him because she isn’t from his country and can’t be his queen.  He’s heartbroken but the princess agrees to keep in touch so he thinks that maybe he could one day have a chance, but then the princess’s strange behavior’s start getting more erratic.  She starts spending every night outside looking at the moon, and when her father finally asks her why she tells him a secret.  That she is from the moon, and that soon she’s going to have to return.”  You look back at Azul, expecting his eyes to be on the moon only to find them centered pointedly on you.  It’s a heavy gaze, suffocating almost.  

“I can’t imagine the emperor was accepting of that.”  He’s trying to make a joke, at least you think.  The words fall sort of flat.

“When the princess tells him that, he tries to send soldiers to her house.  To prevent the moon from taking her back.  But it doesn’t work, when the time comes for her to return everyone in the house falls into a deep sleep while the princess is swept up by the moon people.”  You both stand in silence for a moment before you think to add.  “That’s not really why I started disliking it though.  There’s- when she goes back to the moon they wrap her up in this cloak that makes her forget everyone she met on earth.”    

“Do you think that’s what will happen to you?”  There’s an emotion in his voice you can’t quite place.  If you had to describe it you’d say he was teetering on the edge of desperation, over what you can’t quite tell.  “Do you want that to happen to you?”

“No!”  You surprise yourself with how forcefully you shout.  “I don’t think the lady from the moon did either.  Pretty much every version of the story I ever read really made it seem like she wanted to stay, but-”

“Why didn’t the emperor go himself?”  He’s getting closer to the edge, similar to how he sounded when his contracts got turned to dust but thankfully not yet that desperate.  “If he was in love, why didn’t he demand they stay?”  And that aura from flying class is back;  he’s talking but he isn’t saying what he means but this time you think-

The way he looks at you has changed.  Azul’s smiles have started reaching his eyes, you belatedly foolishly realize, and now his carefully concealed doubts have too.  “Maybe he was afraid.”  you don’t have to phrase it as a question, there’s no real question about what’s keeping you both silent here.  He flinches, trying desperately to steady himself.  You take a deep, shuddering breath as Azul squares his shoulders and steps closer to you.  “That they wanted to leave all along and he couldn’t bring himself to deny them.”  Closer.  “Maybe he thought somethings were more important than taking a risk on someone from another world.”  Closer.  Not quite yet as close as he could be but firmly within reach, but he doesn’t dare move any more.

“He’s a better man than me.”  It’s a warning, or at least it should register as one.  Make you reconsider the smile that escapes your lips and settles firmly into his poor unfortunate heart.  “I don’t think I could let such a rare person go if they shone so clearly against the night sky.”  You want to laugh.  Really you do but you’re too busy reveling in the newfound light in his eyes to do anything other than choke back a sob.  

“Then I guess you’re lucky I’m not from the moon.”  And finally, finally, finally you move to close the gap so you’re standing chest to chest under the light of the moon, warming the cold beat of his heart into something far less shallow.  Finally, finally he sees you, and knows he doesn’t have to look away.

*Jade encouraged Floyd to ditch so Azul wouldn't be in control of the conversation. Partially to mess with him and partially because I think someone as obsessed with perfection as Azul should be forced to realize love isn't something you can plan every aspect of and I think Jade would agree with me because I am the author and I say so.

**In the original translation I read everyone is blinded by a light. I changed this for correlation to chapter 7.

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

YES YES YES I GO CRAZY ABOUT IT

there was a piece of analysis in the notes of a gen fic i read a while back where it basically said that (30s!)ford was fine putting their relationship on pause until ford was ready to reconcile or needed something from stan. there was never any consideration that stan wouldn’t “want to make it up to him” or even a passing thought that stan would reject him despite presumably never mentioning stan to fiddleford or anyone in the town he lived in, and not talking about him at all with family

anyways that piece of analysis still keeps me up at night.

God its actually so insane to think about. I was mostly joking in my post, but its pretty crazy how Ford is very much aware of Stan's loyalty to him and we've seen how far he's willing to stretch it for his own benefit without anything in return. Ford is so clearly aware of the fact Stan would literally do anything for him.

I think much of it boils down to his own belief that Stan is willing to do whatever it takes keep him around. I mean, didn't Stan ruin his future prospects at his dream school specifically so they can keep adventuring together? Why would Stan deny Ford anything at that point if he's willing to cost the family literal millions for his "selfish gains"? (and again, Ford is under the impression Stan destroyed the machine on purpose and is essentially trying to baby trap him with the Stan O War lmao)

He internalizes this, like some vault in his brain that assures him he would always have his brother, even when he doesn't want him at that moment. Or at least, believes he doesn't but he does, and that is even something he's very obviously ashamed of or else he wouldnt hide the literal decades worth of memorabilia of Stan from Fiddleford or would be writing his real feelings in secret code.

But back to the point: Ford has no qualms using this to his own benefit and he does it multiple times. He does it when begging Stan to come to Gravity Falls, he does it when he expects Stan to just shut up and take the book away even without sitting him down and explaining why these journals are so important and dangerous in the first place. It's something he even utilizes right after getting out of the portal, by telling Stan to shut down his thirty year long and successful business and leave after the summer is over and Stan agrees.

But it's worth noting too that that's the last time you will ever catch Stan doing a total favor for Ford without something in return. Stan at that point is done doing things for Ford without the proper reciprication and its not like you can blame him. He has to be convinced by Mabel to save Ford again and he puts his foot down on getting that thanks he was owed over fixing the portal even though there was a literal apocalypse happening. Make no mistake though, because until then, Ford wasn't under any delusion that Stan wouldnt do anything he asks because Stan pretty much proved he would. This is also why Ford was pretty comfortable asking Stan to join the circle because other than "Who the hell would deny holding hands to save the world?" there's also a "How could Stan ever say no to me?" Having to swallow his pride for even half a second and actually reciprocate literally 1/100 of the things Stan was willing to do for him was how we got "Grammar, Stanley" lmao

and this is my own headcanon, but i suppose that other than essentially killing Stanley by erasing his mind, I think that's also a moment where the vault opens in Ford's head and he realizes he won't always have his brother like he believes he does. The same brother who travelled halfway across the country for a brother who he hadn't contacted for 10 years. The same brother who was willing to keep him fed and sheltered under a roof that legally technically is more Stan's than it is Ford's and rescind his one condition of staying away from the kids to give Dipper his blessing of hanging out with Ford. That same brother is going to forget all about that, forget his loyalty and unconditional love towards Ford and Ford realizes he loses the one person who was always willing to fight for him, more than anyone else in the world. Its really really good shit man

[ckret2]

Chapter 15 of Bill's a human prisoner and everybody's grumpy about it, featuring: NIGHTMARES NIGHTMARES NIGHTMARES NIGHTM

Remember these? We're getting 'em both in one chapter. Plus: FORD! Also: a little bit of human gore, a lot of bizarre alien gore.

This is a shorter chapter, but it's the first one with a direct glimpse into Bill's backstory and home dimension. I hope you enjoy! And are deeply horrified!

####

"You have to stop spouting this nonsense." A golden line slithered around him, weaving back and forth, her furious eye focused on him as she paced. "Nobody comes to your services for deranged muttering about points of light in darkness. They don't want to hear about things that are above-but-not-north of us! What does that mean, above-but-not-north?"

"It means what it says, Mom." Above him—above, but not north, in an endless void outside the plane of the world—countless stars twinkled in an unending dark. "That's where the third dimension is. And that's what it looks like! I don't know how else to explain it to someone who hasn't seen it!"

"Then why explain it at all? They don't want to hear it! It's a surprise you aren't already losing congregants. I know you can tell you're losing their interest."

He could tell. Sullenly, he said, "Maybe we just—just need smarter congregants. If they weren't too stupid to understand—"

"People are stupid, sweetie. That's why they follow you. You don't want the smart ones anyway, or they'd be smart enough to see through all the lies you make up about the third dimension—"

"I'm not making it up!"

"Every week you talk about impossible places that can't exist! Either you're lying or insane—which is it?"

How could he answer that? He looked up into space, as if the distant stars only he saw could help him.

"Oh, don't do that, I hate when your eye goes white like that. It might impress your worshipers but it doesn't work on your mother, young triangle." She paced around him faster, coiling tighter, surrounding him on all sides in gold, her eye peering straight into his. "I don't care whether you're a liar or a lunatic—you're still my golden child, and everyone else will see that too as long as you tell them what we say. Nobody wants to hear that the third dimension is a dark, empty void! Tell them it's full of color and life! Tell them it's filled with the spirits of departed shapes, or messengers, divine guides, muses—"

"But it isn't! I don't care what they want it to be, it's not true! I'm trying to make them understand!" He had to make them understand, he needed somebody to understand. He thought he'd go insane if he was the only one who could see how empty and awful space was.

"I've listened to your gibberish about points of light and up-not-north for months and I don't understand it, so how can anyone else—"

"You're not trying to understand!" Space and all its vast emptiness was oh, so close, so achingly close. Pressing against everyone's bodies, breathing over their organs, lighting up those tight-coiled fibers beneath everyone's skin, shining on the bloody bones and thin muscles. "Either you're not listening or you're stupid!" How couldn't anyone else see space?

"How dare you—!"

How could they be close enough to touch it and still deny what it was?

Why was he the only freak who could bend up into it?

Her sharp tail cracked like a whip behind his base. "I'll teach you to talk back to me like that!"

His mind was feverish with anger, pulsing and roiling behind his eye—and for a moment, he wasn't afraid of anything.

She could bend and flex and coil, she was the most flexible line he'd ever seen. The doctors thought he might have inherited his ability to bend up-not-north from her, some genetic predisposition to flexibility. If he could bend UP, so could she. He'd make her. He'd force her. He'd show her.

He jammed his corner into her side. She shrieked, uncoiling from around him to scrunch around her wound. "Watch your— What are you—"

"You'll see," he said, shoving her against the wall, shoving her into a corner. "You'll see if it's the last thing you do!" It was like cramming a long rope into a short box; each time he shoved, she bent and curved and bent again.

"Stop—stop, it HURTS—"

He could see it in his mind's eye: if he kept pushing and pushing eventually there'd be no more room in two dimensional space for her to fill, and then she'd be forced to bend UP, up into the third dimension, all that open free space. Then she'dsee the dark, she'd see the far points of light—

"STOP!" She howled in pain. He kept pushing. She was out of room.

She didn't bend up.

He shoved—and she splintered. Bone snapping, cartilage tearing, he could see inside her thin body as things broke and ruptured.

He didn't know what to do.

And for several long, long seconds—he couldn't remember what was happening. The world seemed to bend wrong, rippling up-but-not-north and down-but-not-south, and his head swam and his vision blurred, and he couldn't remember.

Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. He’d seen grotesque injuries and rotting bodies before—he’d been in hospitals and seen through the bandages, been in graveyards and seen into the coffins, unable not to see though the doors and walls and tombs. He’d seen the way the skin came off, the way it split into hairy filaments as it loosened from the body, bristly around injuries or sloughed off whole from the long dead. But he'd never seen dead skin curl like his mother's, loosely zig-zagging back and forth and wrapping into spirals like the centers of flowers. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. 

Irrationally, wildly, hysterically, watching his mother die, he wondered—when he died, when he was a corpse, when he rotted—when his body split open in half from his burst eye, as the labyrinth of his guts bloated and unwound and inverted themselves to spill in sick threads from his mouth, and his skin peeled free, layer by hairy layer, from his eyelid out—would his rotting golden skin curl like his mother's had?

He knew it would. He knew it would. He knew it would.

####

He woke to moonlight streaming through curls upon curls of golden skin dangling in his eye, choking him on rot.

He squeezed his eyes shut, batted the hair aside, and forced himself to breathe until the nausea subsided.

He hated how humans dreamt.

He decided he didn't want any more sleep tonight.

He dragged himself upright, shambled downstairs, and tried to ignore the coils of his internal organs spilling out of his head and dangling around his face.

He needed a drink.

####

Ford woke up standing over a bed and a body.

He couldn't identify the shape or size of the body under the sheets, due to how badly it was contorted and the way the dark pools of blood in the bedsheets distorted the shadows. All he could see was the head: a flash of a pale cheek turned away, and the unmistakeable Pines hair curls. The hair was matted with blood.

Ford's hands were coated in hot blood and cold blue flames. There was a nauseating metallic taste in his mouth and something thick and warm dripping down his chin.

He heard a quiet chuckle. He whipped around to face it—

And saw himself reflected in a triangular window, a gray shade. He was smiling so widely he could see moonlight glinting off his molars. His slitted eyes glowed a sickly yellow.

Ford woke up staring at the ceiling. He licked his lips; reassuringly dry. He held up his hands; clean.

He sighed.

Ford could roll over and go back to sleep. He'd gotten used to dreams like this decades ago; these days he hardly even had them. But he was already awake and irritated. He might as well pick up where he'd left his research at dinner time—do something that felt productive. He got up, fished a crumpled paper that said "Downstairs" out of his bedside stand and set it next to Stan's glasses, and crept out of the guest room to head for the vending machine.

Bill was in the kitchen.

Ford stopped in the next room, staring through the doorway. Bill was sitting in the dark, only his silhouette visible in the light through the window. He was hunched over the kitchen table, supported on his elbows, unmoving. Ford couldn't see Bill's reflection in the window. Not even his eyes.

Ford wondered what he dreamed about. Perhaps the thrill of possessing people.

He was half tempted to confront Bill—demand to know what he was up to—but, Ford told himself, there was nothing to confront Bill for. They'd given him permission to use the kitchen freely. Bill wasn't up to anything. It was well within his rights to sit silently at the table in the dark.

Ford just didn't like it.

He crept into the living room. Bill never noticed him.

####

Dipper divided the nightmares he'd been having since last summer into two categories: the Bill nightmares; and the Bipper nightmares—which were, in a way, also Bill nightmares.

The Bill nightmares were just his regular nightmares, except that Bill was also in them. For Dipper, regular nightmares were a mishmash of fears, insecurities, chaos, and random weirdness. It was natural that Bill, the most terrifying entity Dipper had ever met, occasionally guest starred in his dreams. The problem was that, since Bill actually could invade dreams and always brought chaos and random weirdness in his wake, it was that much harder for Dipper to realize he was dreaming rather than actually facing Bill—and, once he woke up, harder for him to reassure himself it really was only a dream.

(Mabel told him she had similar problems, and it wasn't even limited to nightmares. Sometimes, no matter how sweet or unthreatening her dream was—and sometimes because it was so sweet—their erratic scene-changing logic-breaking wish-making nature gave her the creeping sense that she was trapped back in Mabeland. Not often, she said. But occasionally, when Dipper couldn't sleep either, he could hear her wake herself repeating "—I wanna go back to reality—I want to go back—go back to the real world," and then meow herself back to sleep.)

On the other hand, the Bipper nightmares were like no dreams he'd ever had before.

They might start out as normal nightmares—dreaming of a near death experience, or a monster charging at him, or some humiliation too deep to endure further sleeping through—until he jolted awake. Or he'd think he'd jolted awake—in truth, he'd just woken up into another dream, so realistic he thought he was awake until he realized he was hovering over his bed, and the world looked hazy and false, and his body was still beneath the covers. Just like when Bill had ripped him free of his body.

The first time he'd had the Bipper nightmare, Dipper thought Bill had taken over him again, and that at any moment his body would open its eyes and laugh at him. When that didn't happen, he thought he'd died. He'd flown to Mabel's room, to his parents', to Waddles, to the neighbors' houses, trying desperately to get someone's attention—and when nothing worked, he returned to his still body in despair and waited there, sure that in a few hours his parents would come to get him for school and find him dead...

But then he'd woken up. For real, this time. And then he woke the rest of the house with his screaming.

He learned to cope with these nightmares, both the Bill ones and the Bipper ones. He talked about them with Mabel during the day or went to her for reassurance at night. Sometimes he called Ford, if he and Stan were in a time zone where they'd still be awake. (Ford said he'd had nightmares for years about Bill invading his dreams—and almost none of them had been real. He said that his visits from Bill were usually less chaotic than a normal dream. Bill liked his weirdness but he liked being the center of attention more; he liked to stage his dreams like a movie director, keeping a firm grip on the setting and the narrative flow, snapping from location to location and moment to moment with an artistry that natural dreams didn't have. The muddled mundanity of your average nightmare was beneath Bill.)

And Dipper learned to wait out his Bipper nightmares. Sometimes he wandered the hallways, but he found that engaging with the dream tended to prolong it; instead, if he stayed by his body and didn't do anything, eventually he'd drift back into deep sleep and wake back up. He started keeping a radio on at night—he could hear it in his sleep—and listening to the weird 3 a.m. broadcasts kept him entertained enough until he woke.

####

But since returning to Gravity Falls, Dipper had found a new way to deal with his nightmares:

Yelling at Bill about them.

Tonight, he was having his guilt-dream about his dad asking why he'd given up kickboxing; until the dream was interrupted by Bill emerging from the refrigerator to announce that Weirdmageddon was opening a second location in Piedmont and then throw a rabid skunk at Dipper's face. Dipper had woken up too angry to think straight, stomped to Bill's empty window seat, and then stomped downstairs.

He found Bill sitting in the kitchen in the dark, washing down a bag of cookies with a pack of hard cider and staring out at the night. Dipper stopped in the doorway. "You!"

Bill turned to give Dipper a bleary-eyed look. "Me?" 

"Stop messing with my dreams and stay out of my head!"

"Beg pardon?" Bill's eyelids were desynchronized as he slowly blinked. "I'm just..." He gestured vaguely around the kitchen with a mostly-empty cider can. "I am just—sitting here."

"You've been in my nightmares all year," Dipper said hotly, even as he was waking up enough to realize that Bill, down here in the kitchen, probably wasn't influencing his dreams. "So just—just..." This was stupid. "Cut it out, man."

"You've been dreaming about me? How sweet." Bill gave Dipper a mocking grin, propped his chin in his hand, propped his elbow on the table, actually missed putting his elbow on the table by at least six inches, and fell to the ground with a yelp.

Dipper stared tiredly at Bill cackling on the floor, and turned around and trudged upstairs.

Dipper found that, whenever he had nightmares about golden geometric apocalypses, it was reassuring to get an instant reminder that Bill had been nowhere near his head. Even if he thought Bill was laying on the "helpless human" act a little thick.

####

(I'm still recovering from Health Junk, so if you've got any comments, I'd deeply appreciate them now even more than I usually do. Thank you, y'all readers and commenters and friends are really keeping me going during this time of feeling like a pile of half-sentient gunk. 🙏✨)