#anyway enjoy the blue and orange chaos!

[frankenbuggee]

I’m feeling nostalgic for my Sylvith ship (Xanith x Sylvain). Spoiler, Sylvain feels like home to her.

They were my fixation for like two years and got so popular I got burned out 💀

But anyway I still love them maybe I’ll post more.

[selencgraphy]

— 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄

PAIRING: loki laufeyson x f!asgardian!reader

TAGS: bestfriend!loki, idiots in love, loki using magic, canon divergent, fluff, some cursing

A/N: oh man i wrote this sooooo long ago too. it's an old one that i deleted bc i was revamping my acc but i went back to reread it and realized i just had to bring it back! happy reading <3

WORD COUNT: ~1.3k

masterlist || request box <3

"Loki?"

He hummed in response. "If you could go anywhere in the Nine Realms," you started, "where would you go and who would you take with you?"

After a long day, the two of you had settled in the grass behind the palace, taking the time to relax, enjoy each other's company, and stare up into the sky. He turned to face you with a small grin already painted across his face. "What are you smiling about?"

"You already know my answer. Well, half of it anyway."

"Oh come on, don't be like that! Just tell me."

He took a second to think about it. Another grin grew on his face. He leaned in as if he was going to whisper it to you and said, "Why don't I just show you?"

With that, he shot up and put out his hand. As soon as you took it, he pulled you close to him. "The Bifrost is quite far for a walk, why don't I just..."

As he spoke, suddenly the two of you already seemed to have made it to the entrance of the Bifrost. "There."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to you doing that."

As time had passed over the years, Loki had become better at controlling the magic that Frigga had shared with him. One of the things he learned was how to conjure fireworks which he always used to make your day. Teleportation was his latest feat and he took advantage of it. When you both entered, you were greeted by the gatekeeper, Heimdall. "Your royal highness. My liege."

"Let me guess, you saw us coming?"

He hummed in response. "What can I do for the two of you today?"

Loki turned to you and gave you a quick smile before he approached the gatekeeper, whispering something into his ear. Heimdall quickly nodded and inserted Hofund to open the Bifrost. As you moved towards the entrance of the portal, Loki turned to you, grabbing your hand. "Hold onto me, love. I don't want you to fall out by accident now, do I?"

Before you knew it, the two of you were gliding up through the Bifrost, the colors glistening all around you. A look of astonishment growing on your face which made Loki's heart swell in his chest. Suddenly, you were on solid ground again, burn marks from the Bifrost scorched into the ground beneath you. "Loki," you started, taking in the new environment. "Where are we?"

"Midgard," he replied, a small smile on his face. You were speechless. You never imagined Midgard to be this… beautiful. When you learned about the Nine Realms, Midgard had been described as a place unappealing to visit and that the Midgardians were rude creatures that don't know how to do anything but create chaos. You always joked that it was the perfect place for Loki with him being the God of Mischief and all. But this? Wherever Loki had taken you seemed to be the complete opposite.

Unlike Asgard, the seemingly end of their world wasn't just space, it was water and in the distance was a beautiful skyline of orange and blue. As you took in the sight before you, Loki couldn't help but admire how amazed you looked. He had taken a trip here once before with his brother, Thor, so he was less taken aback but seeing the look on your face made this visit feel more meaningful—not that it wasn't already. Breaking the silence, Loki leaned in and whispered, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Loki, this is-"

As you turned to face him, he offered his hand, asking for you to take it once more. "Come on," he insisted, "There is so much more that I want you to see."

The second your hand met his he quickly turned around and set off in a sprint, dragging you right behind him. Over the sounds of the crashing waves, you yelled, "Loki! Where are you taking me now?"

"Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do but what does that have to-"

Before you could finish you found yourself in another environment once again. "Fuck, Loki!"

All he did was laugh back at your shock at the teleportation. He continued to run with your hands still interlocked but as you took in more of the sights of the new area you realized it resembled the area behind the palace just immensely larger. A field of grass with flowers everywhere, only a massive tree in sight. Both yours and Loki's hair flowing in the wind as you sprinted through the field.

Once you came to a stop, the both of you took a second to catch your breaths. Taking a seat next to the tree, you took a similar position like how you were laying back on the field in Asgard, Loki quickly following suit. Suddenly, he turned and took you into his arms and began to violently tickle you. "Loki, stop! No," you squealed.

Coming to a stop with the tickling, he continued to hold you in his arms. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"Just for being my friend for so long and allowing me to bring you here. I thought you would have left me when you found out that I was, well, not Asgardian."

"Of course, Loki. You think I'd pass up the opportunity to be friends with a prince of Asgard?"

He sat up, jokingly displaying a shocked expression on his face. "Is that the only reason you're friends with me?"

You quipped, "Why else would I be?"

As he took his place back onto the ground next to you, you went on to say, "I'm glad we're friends too, Loki. I can't imagine being best friends with anyone else."

"Not even my brother?"

"Not even your brother," you ensured.

Staying in silence for a second, he quickly broke it and said, "I know we just got here but there is one more place that I want you to see."

Taking your hand once again, you expected him to teleport immediately but he quickly added, "Close your eyes."

"Hmm and why should I?"

"Just trust me."

Reluctantly, you shut your eyes and you felt the two of you teleport. Immediately new sounds and smells filled your senses. With your eyes still closed, he helped you up and guided you to his desired location. "Just a little bit further and... there. You can open your eyes now."

Once your eyes opened, you were met with buildings and lights underneath you. "Wh- Where are we?"

"This is something the Midgardians call the Eiffel Tower. It's this triangular shaped structure similar to the palace but much less attractive."

"Oh, please," you laughed as you lightly shoved his shoulder. You leaned over the railing, further taking in its beauty, Loki taking his place next to you.

"You asked if I could go anywhere where I'd go and with whom," he started without breaking his gaze downwards to the buildings. When you turned to look at him he continued, "I don't care where I end up as long as it’s with you."

"You sap!"

"Hey," he retorted. "I'm being serious."

"I know," you whispered, blush creeping into your cheeks at the sentiment.

You took a second to take in the sight before the two of you before Loki spoke again. "How about you?"

"Hm?"

"Where would you go and with whom?"

Meeting his gaze, you leaned in, closing the space between you. "Anywhere as long it's with you," a smile growing on your face as you basically repeated his answer back to him.

"Oh, who's the sap now!"

The two of you laughed it off and continued to look onto the city in front of you. "Hey, the sights here on Midgard are fascinating but just you wait until you taste their food."

Your eyebrows raised in intrigue. “Really?”

He nodded and offered his hand once more, already glowing in green with magic. "Can't we just walk down?" you whined.

A mischievous grin grew on the god's face. "Now where's the fun in that?"

[puckpocketed]

who is #43?

Hello !! First off thank u for visiting. If you clicked read more by accident rip sorry it’s a lot of text. ENJOY!!! <3

1. This was the photo reference I used. I really did mean it when i said he photographs well!! I really like how scrungly he looks at times lol. v paintable

2. here’s a timelapse for your viewing pleasure in video + gif form <3

3. Process breakdown below. I am not formally trained, so don’t take any of this as professional advice!! The way i paint has been compared to channeling some evil contract with a demon also. So um . Im saying that i dont remotely think that this is efficient or correct, its just whats comfortable for me <3

3a) the dreaded lining phase. I have 2 modes of operation when it comes to painting - either i go full-dick with fancy inking/sketching + cel shading (rare, unrefined, haven’t figured out a nice workflow yet) OR i do a very very basic chicken scratch set of lines like so:

It’s less about being realistic here and more about laying down some guide lines for the chaos ahead. If i thought i could get away with it, I would start every rendered painting i do with laying down colours — but unfortchh ive tried that before and it usually ends in really weird proportions. Even with the lines i still need to make adjustments. This is something no people except me would notice but look at the above sketch; the eyes are too big and slightly too far apart, the forehead is too small and thus the hair is also not quite big enough… I have a bad habit of drawing eyes too big on faces, they’re my favourite facial feature to draw.. i barely resisted giving him big cow eyelashes (I love big cow eyelashes… all of my OC’s and most of my more stylised fan art of characters get big cow eyelashes… god…. Big cow eyelashes SAVE ME……….)

Anyway. Structure of the face + hand somewhat established. <3

3b) Underpainting!! Okay stay with me here . Ever since i figured out i dont have to paint in 03925893853 different layers, I’ve joyfully painted on 1 layer as much as possible. I dont have the brain power all the time to be managing layers so I simply dont work with that many layers. For this painting, the skin in its entirety was painted on one layer, the hair on another layer, and the effects on the last layer. There was a placeholder background off-white/grey colour for a while there, and I duplicated the line layer — one for figuring out where to lay colours, and one hidden for later so i could check back to see how accurate to the sketch/proportions were to the actual painting. 6 layers, 2 of which i painted the bulk of the piece on, 1 more at the end.

3c) here’s where I started carving out features. I think about objects in terms of volumes and light rather than lines. i love painting and sculpting because of this!! Here you see where I’ve begun to define his features — his eyelids, his bags, his nostrils. Just refining what was there before. The suggestion of facial hair before i gave it up and left it for later (his face is so naked the WHOLE time)

3d) nose bridge highlight, suggesting his eyebrows, a cheek highlight. A touch more coral red and muted yellow pull away from the grey/blue underpainting. Strategically leaving some of it peeking through.

3e) i truly start messing with the fidelity of his features here. Red lipstick <3 and some violet/blue for shadows on the right side of his face.

3f) the part where it starts looking like q.hughes to me (though, my friend said i got his vibe pretty early on which is such a compliment.. waaaaa…..) I love this part of every painting i do. I know it’s definitely not the Correct order since other parts of the entire painting are simply Not Rendered or Done, but whos gonna stop me?? :3

I love love loveeee painting faces. Adding the little shinies to his eyes + lips + upper lip + nose … you don’t know how much of a difference it makes until you do it. Also i snatched his eyebrows

3g) i really pushed the red/coral/ochre/orange here. Note the yellow highlights on his cheekbones, the forehead, and the thin thin line of pink right between where his bottom lip ends and his chin shadow starts <- very important . To ME!!!!!!! Also highlighting his waterline and adding his lashes was so so fun <3

3h) FACIAL HAIR!!! And I started rendering his hand. Some micro adjustments made to his face for proportion check.

3i) i start painting his hair in earnest and realise his forehead is too small so i make the adjustment. I really love how it falls into his eyes in this photo. <3

3j) i make some final adjustments to his eyes — a bit smaller, closer together. And i refine the outline of his jaw, push the stylisation of it just a little.

3k) Finishing details; his flyaway hairs, his moles, a bit of texture on his face, shadows cast by his hair, his little forehead cut <3

3l) i adjusted his hand here, added more texture to his skin, refined his hair a tiny bit more, and made the decision not to fuck around painting his jersey because i wanted the focus to be his face <3

3m) Canucks blue and green. Captain at 23. His form bleeds into the background. He is the franchise.

theee most fun ive had painting anything. and i finally feel... warmed up? if that makes sense. art for me is like. if i dont do it in a while it feels like nothing goes right when i come back to it. i hate that feeling, and the most difficult hurdle to clear is letting myself feel that until i get back into my Zone. after all this time i feel like im BACK !!!!!!!

i loved painting this fella. hes SO Shaped. <3

Apologies i simply do Not have the energy to write the alt text for all of these so i hope the little blurbs are okay aslkjasdklj. i gotta post and go to bed . if u made it this far, thank you for reading!!

[selfindulgentpixies]

Blood upon the snow: chapter 1

Vampire!Gojo x gn!reader

You read that right folks, it's finally here. Or part of it is anyway. I decided to split my vampire Gojo fic into several parts just because feed back really helps me stay inspired and I'm not sure how long this potential beast of a fic will take me to finish otherwise in all honesty. I've put a lot of work into this fic so far. probably one of the most refined things i've written.

CW: canon typical violence, blood drinking (you know vampire stuff),GN!Afab!reader, reader isn't a blank slate but I still hope you will enjoy putting yourself in their shoes, reader is a hunter(the normal kind), Sukuna is here and he's his own warning. Potential for vampire politics in a future parts if i'm feeling crazy, past satosugu (what you thought i'd be able to leave suguru out of this?)

4.2k

It had been years since it happened but you’d never forget it. The winter had been a particularly harsh one and you’d heard the adults talking about bandit attacks being on the rise due to scarcity. Your mother had soothed you and told you nothing would happen though. That you'd get safely from one city to the next. She’d been wrong. 

A merchant caravan was far too tempting a target with all the potential goods on board. From the food to all the valuables carried within. You’d been asleep when it happened, curled up safely in your mother’s lap the both of you wrapped in warm furs and being gently rocked by the movements of the carriage. You were meant to make it to the next major settlement by noon the next day. But right now the moon hung high in the sky, bright enough to to be seen through the thin cloud cover. The world outside was all shimmering shades of blue and white under the winter moon’s silver gaze. 

The silence of the snow muffled night is cut sharply by a scream followed by a loud crack of splintering wood echoing through the air, likely from the back of the caravan. You wake groggily in your mother’s arms, dazed and confused as she sets you down on the seat so she can look out one of the carriage’s windows toward the front where your father was at the reins. A wet thump, followed by a scream from your mother. More screams, seemingly from all around, cries from adults scrambling to issue orders. Then your carriage veers, the horses startled by the chaos.

 You’re knocked from your seat, tiny body tumbling across the carriage when something suddenly rams into its side, sending it over and off the path. The world goes dark, you’re not sure for how long. When you come to the caravan isn’t immediately in sight though the screams seem to echo all around you. When you finally catch sight of an orange glow in the distance your eyes are able to focus on something much closer as well. A dark shape lying in the snow, red slowly spreading around it. No. Not it. Her. Your mother. There’s several figures in the distance backlit by the distant chaos approaching but you can’t tear your wide eyes from your mother. You begin to crawl toward her when her eyes suddenly fixate on you. “Run.” You freeze. With more strength she speaks again. “Run.” The figures in the distance grow closer. “I said RUN.” 

You stumble up to your feet then. A step backward. 

“RUN”

And you do. Turning on your heel to stumble through the forest. You hear shouting then but you don’t listen to it. Can’t listen to it because you need to listen to your mother. Her face in that moment seared into your mind. Cold air burns through your throat and lungs as you push yourself to run. To where you had no idea. You didn’t know these woods. You’re quick though, like a little rabbit, running with fur boot clad feet you barely sink into the snow at all while your pursuers stumble and sink through the deep drifts of snow. Too heavy to be supported by the shimmering shell that is the snow’s top layer.

You keep running long after you stop hearing their crashing footsteps and shouts. You keep running until you can’t. You collapse, coughing, lungs burning from the effort and cold. You curl into a ball right there beneath the canopy of pines. You’re not sure how long you lie there, but eventually somehow silent and without sinking into the snow at all a pair of boots appear in your line of sight. You weakly turn your face to look up, your lashes and cheeks decorated with jewels made of frozen tears

A person.. Are they really a person, they seem too beautiful to be a person, it’s as if the moon took human form and came to earth. They kneel down in front of you, expression solemn as they reach out to brush away some of the frozen tears before cupping your tiny face in their large hands. Their hands are nearly as cold as the snow you’re laying upon. All you’re really focused on now though are their bright blue eyes, not just bright but glowing. You attempt to speak but no sound comes out of your raw throat. 

“Shhh… Don’t try to speak.” The voice is deep yet melodic, you think it might be soothing if you weren’t so numb. The deepness of the voice at least makes you think they’re a man of some kind even if not a human one. He picks you up and bundles you into his coat. You gaze up at him as he carries you, where to, you have no idea but you can’t seem to care in your current state, so instead you gaze up at him. His eyelashes like the snowflakes that fall around you as they dust over his cheeks with each blink. 

You’re apparently not the best listener  because you weakly croak out a question. “Are you an angel? Did I die..?”

He pauses mid stride and glances down at you, crystalline eyes wide. Then he laughs, the action jostling you against his chest. “Now that’s a new one.” He adjusts his hold on you and continues. “You don’t need to worry about what I am and no you didn’t die.” His solemn expression has been replaced with a soft one. Lips gently curving at least for a moment and gaze soft before he looks ahead. “No more talking from you, you need your rest.” 

You don’t need to be told again as your eyelids feel heavy. The exhaustion from before settling over you like a blanket, wrapped in this strange man’s coat and being gently rocked by his steps you drift off. 

__

You stare up at the ceiling of your small room, blinking away sleep. It’s been years since that night and yet you still dream of it. You roll from your cot, immediately stuffing your feet into a pair of slippers. It was beginning to get cold out, the chill always bringing with it the dreams. Not that it was winter yet. Instead of a world dusted in white the world outside was a fiery palette of reds, oranges and yellows. 

You wander your way to the small kitchen where your grandmother sits with a cup of tea clutched between her weathered fingers. “You slept in.” It’s simply an observation not an accusation. “That’s not like you. Normally you’re up before the sun, not well after it.” 

You reach for the pot of tea and pour yourself a cup, happy to cradle the warmth in your hands. You hum. “And yet you didn’t come to wake me.” 

Your grandmother hums in turn then, it was a response you picked up from her after all. “Of course not. You need to get more rest or you’ll burn yourself out. You’ve spent nearly everyday in the woods either hunting or gathering other supplies.” 

“I need to make sure we’re both taken care of. It’s predicted to be a harsh winter. This fall has already been particularly cold.” You blow on your tea and sit across from your grandmother. 

“We already have more than enough smoked and dried meats to get through the winter.”

“And the extra can go around to others in the village who need it in that case. If not that I can take it to trade in the larger towns for other supplies we might need. You know, like your medicine. OW!” You yelp as she gives your leg a thwack under the table with her cane.

“Watch your tone,” She replies, both hands returning to her cup to raise it to her lips for another sip. “And stop worrying so much about me. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself still.” 

You grumble and rub at your leg. “Stubborn old bat…” you mumble beneath your breath. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing~” You sip at your tea as she narrows her eyes at you. 

Before she’s able to say anything more there’s a knock at the door, drawing both of your attention. “Expecting someone today?” You ask her as you begin to get up and go to the door. 

“Not at all.”

 Not that it was abnormal for people to stop by for any number of reasons in a village like this. What wasn’t normal was when you looked through the peephole and saw one of the lead elders had stopped by your home unannounced. You open the door quickly and step to the side so your grandmother can see who it is. 

“Now to what do I owe the visit, Gakuganji? The elders council isn’t meant to gather until the end of the week.” Your grandmother was technically on the council though she was the current youngest member to be welcomed on. Meanwhile she’s said before that she remembers Gakuganji being old already while she was young.  Honestly you can’t imagine this fossil ever being young anyway.  

“There’s an urgent matter that I need to discuss with you.” He says to your grandmother while his eyes flick pointedly toward you. 

You raise your hands in mock defeat. “Alright alright I’ll make myself scarce. Just give me a minute to get properly changed, old man.” This earns you a glare from Gakuganji and a snort from your grandmother as you head back to your room. Soon enough you’re dressed and heading out the door, grabbing your bow and quiver as you go. Your hunting knife already secured to a belt at your waist. Admittedly you’re curious about what could be so urgent that it would bring Gakuganji here, especially when as your grandmother had said there was to be a regularly scheduled meeting of the elders from the various villages at the end of the week. 

You stretch and breathe in the crisp air. Glancing toward the sky you realize just how late you actually had slept in and feel a bit mortified. Your grandmother had really let you sleep in well past noon. You grumble and go to bundle up one of your kills from the previous day onto the back of your horse to bring to the city to sell. You really did need to go and get more medicine for your grandmother anyway. 

__ 

It’s grown dark once you’re on your way home. The days grow shorter and shorter giving way to long nights. You didn’t mind it much. There was a certain peace that came with it, though while on the roads  you didn’t allow yourself a false sense of security. It’s why even when you weren’t hunting you always had your knife and bow. It’s a habit that’s saved your life on more than one occasion, both from creatures of the night and simple brigands who think you’d make an easy target. 

Something is wrong tonight. You feel it in the air. Everything is too quiet and when the forest is quiet it often means something dangerous is around. You pet your horse’s neck, aiming to soothe it. That’s when not far ahead you see a figure on the road. You slide your bow off your shoulder, your free hand poised to grab for an arrow if you need it as you steer your horse with your thighs. Not that it needed guidance on the path home which you’ve taken hundreds of times.

“So even rabbits can bare their teeth, hmm?” The figure speaks without looking at you. His voice is deep and dripping with amusement. “Put that arrow away before you get hurt, human. I have no business with you”

A shiver goes through you at the words. Human. Your horse stops and refuses to go forward. Your horse that’s encountered all sorts of beasts and kept its nerve. When you don’t say anything the man looks over at you, his eyes are crimson and his face is adorned with tattoos. You know who he is even without having ever seen him in person. You press your lips into a firm line. Sukuna the vampire lord from a distant land. His territory brushed precariously with the Vampire lord who called your own lands home. Two vampires who were closer to gods than anything walking this earth truly ought to be. Crystalline blue eyes and a snowy night flash through your mind’s eye.

You at least know better than to question his presence out loud. But still you don’t avert your gaze and his eyes narrow.  Suddenly he is much much closer, making your horse rear back in panic, knocking you off before it lets out a sound of fear and runs off into the woods, leaving you on your back on the dirt road. 

“Perhaps your beast is smarter than you are.” 

You let out a hiss of pain before opening your eyes and looking up.  He’s standing above you, crimson eyes gazing down at you unimpressed. Fear pricks across your skin and keeps your mouth shut. After what feels like an eternity he snorts and suddenly you feel as if you can move again. You scramble to your feet and look away. Years of experience have told you not to take your eyes off a predator and give them an opening lest they rip out your throat but your instincts say to stop meeting his eyes and get away. You think your instincts have the better of it this time.

“Now you show sense,” His tone is incredulous. Now that you’re looking away from his face he begins to walk past you. He pauses when he’s right beside you. “You should be grateful I’m in a good mood tonight.” And like that he’s gone.  

The encounter leaves you shaken and without a ride. You curse and shakily gather up anything that fell off your horse with you before heading home. Hopefully your horse would find their way back home just fine and wouldn’t get picked off. You’d worry about them being stolen if they liked anyone but you.

You debate the whole way home if you should tell your grandmother that you encountered Sukuna. Would she even believe you? And if she does, what can she do with the information? Bring it up to the other elders at the end of the week? Or maybe Gakuganji is still at the house… Your whole face sours like you just drank bad milk. That old man wouldn’t believe you. There’s no way.

You’re incredibly surprised then when you crest the hill to the village and see chaos. People rushing around everywhere, loading carriages and preparing livestock to move. You break into a run toward your home. This had to do with the elder’s visit, there’s no way it wasn’t related. When you burst through the front door and into the kitchen you’re surprised to find your grandmother much like you had this afternoon when you’d gotten up. Though this time she’s smoking instead of drinking tea. Blue grey smoke curls into the air from the intricately carved pipe.

“Grandma, what’s going on? Why is everyone panicking and why’re you just sitting here?” 

A deep inhale and the end of the pipe shines bright with embers casting the old woman’s face in orange light before she sighs out a plume of smoke and sets the pipe down against her little wooden ashtray. “I told the villagers they need to evacuate.” 

Your brows furrow together and dread begins to tighten your chest. “But why? What did the old fossil say, and don’t try and say it’s unrelated.” 

She snorts. “Don’t let him hear you call him that…” she ignores your mumbled ‘you call him that all the time’ and sighs deeply. “You’re aware that we fall within a vampire lord’s domain correct?” 

You’re a bit taken aback but you nod. “Lord Gojo oversees this territory and the vampires within it.” Not that he exercised any direct power over the human population. Not in a ruling sense anyway. 

Your grandmother nods. “The people of his territory are lucky. He’s benevolent as far as vampire lords are considered. He limits the hunting of vampires within his territory and protects us from outside threats.” She pauses, seeming to think for a moment. “He even saved you and brought you home to me without asking for anything in return.” 

You’d started to brew tea as she spoke, needing to direct your attention somewhere to control the dread, but now after lowering the kettle over the flames in the hearth you look at her. Really look at your grandmother, frail and forlorn but with a slightest hint of a smile on her face.

“Imagine my shock when he showed up at my door with you bundled up tight. By the time he brought you home I’d heard tell of what happened to the caravan, I’d assumed you’d been lost. But there he was with you, rosy cheeked and cared for. You’d been missing until you were able to tell him who your family were… “

You sit across from her, wondering where she was going with bringing up this story. “I don’t really remember much other than when he found me to be honest..” 

“I’m surprised you remember that much.. Truly though I’d expected him to ask for something in return. Perhaps even ask for you once you were of age.”

You choke on nothing at her words and your cheeks flush with heat. “Grandma! That isn’t funny.” Your voice is indignant.

“It’s not meant to be,” she says seriously then sighs. “My point is we’re lucky. He mostly leaves us all be despite his eccentric whims. That isn’t something many who live within a vampire lord’s territory can say. Afterall when I was growing up I fled from the territory of one who was far more malevolent.” 

Lord Sukuna. Your encounter on the road flashes through your mind. Things are slowly clicking into place in your mind. 

“Lord Gojo has been challenged to a battle by Lord Sukuna.” She folds her hands on the table in front of her, the weight of her words creating a pit beneath you that threatens to swallow you whole. You'd heard the stories of how those who lived within his domain lived or died based on his pleasure of displeasure. 

“On the road tonight-” you begin but your grandmother cuts you off.

“This is why the village is evacuating. We’re too close to where the battle is to take place. Though some are going to go further than others. If Lord Sukuna wins, who's to say how quickly all our lives will be thrown into chaos. If he’ll decide to try and take over or if this is simply a game to test his power.” 

You chew your lip. “Okay if that’s the case why aren’t you preparing to leave as well?” 

She makes an incredulous sound. “Please, you know how my health is. I’m staying here, I won’t be run off from my home by him again. I told the villagers to evacuate so they can make their own choice. Mine is to stay here.” 

You stare in disbelief. Maybe you shouldn’t be shocked considering this small village basically sprung up around your grandmother after she settled here. But still to just stay and wait for whatever happens… 

The kettle begins to whistle and you push away from the table to get it. To prepare you both steaming cups of tea. 

“My question then, oh grandchild of mine, is what will you do?” 

Your hands tremble slightly as you pour each of you a cup. “How long do we have, do you know?”

“Two nights from now on the harvest moon.” 

“Thats-” 

“Incredibly short notice? I imagine Sukuna is forcing lord Gojo’s hand for it to be so sudden. Fight him on that night willingly or he’ll simply begin wreaking havoc in his domain regardless and force him into a confrontation that way.”

“And i really can’t convince you to leave…?” 

“No. I decided years ago that I would live out my life here in this village. If it’s to end in a blaze of glory during a battle of titans? Then so be it.” 

You tightly clutch at the tea cup in your hands. There’s an unspoken ‘you won’t take that away from me will you?’ that hangs in the air between the two of you. And you won’t. Despite how much it pains you, you won’t take that away from the woman who’s given you so much over the years. 

—

In the end you’d left. You stayed longer than most, until the autumn sun was high in the sky, uncaring of the destruction that was sure to be wrought that night. Hadn’t the sun realized that a day like this was meant for storms and gloom? But you’d stayed until your grandmother urged you out the door. You’d wanted to drag her with you but if her final wish truly was to live and die in this village you couldn’t take that away. 

You didn’t go far. Only as far as you had to, something in you deciding that you’d bear witness even if from a distance. The powers at play were hard to comprehend. Two beings who appear to be but mere men but with power so immense that you think your grandmother’s description of titans failed to convey it fully. You imagined this is what it was for gods to clash. 

The night is old when all seems to have settled and you make your way toward the battlefield. Your intention was merely to see what was left of your home and if your grandmother perhaps still lived. You don’t make it that far though under the harvest moon’s orange red glow. Instead halfway through a scorched field you find him. Pale form covered in ash and blood, once brilliant blue eyes staring dully at the night sky above. 

Your breath stutters in your chest. Part of you wishes you could say you hesitate but you don’t. You move to the vampire lord’s side, gently going to your knees by his head. There’s no reaction, not at first anyway. But then dull eyes slowly move toward you. Even still you knew he was dying. If nothing was done he was going to die just like you would have in the snow all those years ago if he hadn't found you.

You draw your hunting knife from your belt, the worn handle carved from the antler of your first kill making it feel like an extension of yourself. You stare at it and its glinting blade, kept meticulously sharp and clean by you, before glancing back down at the man who’d saved you. You weren’t sure if this would even work but you felt you needed to try. Cold steel cuts into the back of your wrist cleanly. You let out a hiss between your teeth at the feeling, and then watch mesmerized by the blood welling to the surface. 

With the knife tucked away you slip one hand beneath his head and then lower your bleeding wrist to his lips. At first he doesn’t react. Instead your life simply flows passively past his lips. “Please… I never got to thank you,” Your plea is quiet. 

You feel it then, his lips moving against your skin. His lashes flutter before his eyes seem to gain a hazy sort of focus, different from the dullness of moments prior. You press your wrist more firmly to his mouth and you feel his tongue laving over the cut in your wrist. The action surprising you both as something unfamiliar in itself but also in how it soothes the stinging wound. Then like a steel trap being triggered his hands fly up and grab your arm securely before his mouth fully latches onto your wrist, fangs cleanly piercing your flesh as if you were nothing more than a ripe summer peach. You cry out, both from the sudden sting of pain and the abruptness of his action. You don’t try to yank away, instead curling forward, the hand that was once supporting his head going to the ground to curl into the soil. You pant, your face directly above his with your eyes closed tight. The pain is fading as quickly as it started, numbness taking its place similar to when he’d licked the cut you’d made. Your eyes flutter back open and for the first time the eyes you remember from that winter night meet your own. Crystalline as they hold your gaze even as it grows hazy. 

You wonder then if you were trading your life for his. If he would drink you dry with every pull of your blood past his lips. You don’t think you’d mind that since your time had been borrowed from him anyway. You sway even on your knees and begin to fall forward. It’s only distantly that you note him releasing your wrist before everything swims out of focus. __

Ba-thump

“Gojo! You’re alive! We thought- .. who is that?” 

Ba-thump

“I don’t have time to explain. Get Shoko-”

Ba-thump

Ba-thump

And there you have it folks! And i used dividers for the for the first time. Nothin too fancy but I felt this deserved it. I would love to hear if you guys enjoyed this and what your favorite part/s were. This fic is sorta my baby. It's somthing I'll work on when the mood strikes because I want to do it right and put a lot of love into it. I'm really trying for those gothic romance vibes. Also sorry Gojo wasn't in this chapter a ton but I really needed to set the scene and tone of this story.

tag list!: @icy-spicy @margumis @fah-keet @missmugiwara @pastelle-rabbit @mysugu @fushigurro @nanamikentoseyebags @whispers-of-lilith @princess-okkotsu @strawberrystepmom @chifuyuskoneko @katsulock @kinjuutsu @kweenkatsuki-main @biscuitsngravie @pupkashi @chuuyasboots @porridgesblog @kailali @4sat0ruu

divider credit: @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[childofthewolvess]

for the ask meme you reblogged: what things do you associate with loki (that may or may not be upg)? I'm talking things like food, animals, drinks (both soft drinks and alcohol), movies/books, fictional characters, even like silly things you might see in thrift stores.

Oh absolutely I can do this! Loki loves random things, in my experience, so I have... quite a few random things I associate with Loki. Let me know if any of you also associate any of these with him! A lot of these are super personal but stand anyway.

Forest fires—nature's balanced form of chaos)

Redwood and sequoia trees—cones are serotinous, meaning they only open when fire reaches them

Southeast Alaska/temperate rainforests & fjords—they're very geographically similar to Iceland/Norway and I feel Loki's chaos in the sharp winds and chaotic seas

Orcas—similar to how the wolves are viewed, they have a negative representation when they're integral with their chaos to the cycle of balance in ecosystems. I actually have a bunch of orcas on Loki's altar! He showed me orcas when I lived in Alaska.

Glow sticks—literally don't have a reason for this one.

Wolves—this one is not a UPG because of Fenrir, but I personally associate wolves with Loki because they for a very long time were viewed as the "bad guys" and monsters, when in reality, they were the balance to the ecosystem that was needed. Awfully reminiscent to Loki in his myths.

Solar eclipses—also not necessarily a UPG, but the sheer chaotic energy and power from solar eclipses reminds me of Loki's energy

My roommate's cat—lol, she is an AGENT of chaos. As someone who grew up with cats, never had a more chaotic cat in my life. She also raids fridges. And stares at Loki's altar every day. My roommate says she's a witch.

Writing and storytelling—Loki Does It For The Story, and a lot of times speaks to me through my world and creative writing.

Fireball shots—it's the cinnamon I think, but Loki gets fireball shots every few days (lol.)

Green, orange, black, and blue—Loki's colors, this one jsut makes sense to me and I can't really describe why.

Nature—nature is inherently chaotic but maintains a cycle, and this is Loki's energy to me. He is also part Jotun, associated with nature, and to me, he is present everywhere in the wild and unpredictable forces of nature.

Sweet tea—don't know why but Loki enjoys sweet tea

I'm Just Ken (Barbie Movie)—this is the funniest one yet, but Loki literally showed me the entire dance sequence to I'm Just Ken in my sleep (I had watched the Barbie movie once), and would not stop bothering me until I got him the Barbie movie vinyl and played it for him.

Performance in storytelling—this could be theatre, but really just performing and putting on a show while telling a story. This is the same deity who tied his balls to a goat and saved all the assess of the Norse pantheon because he got Skaði to laugh, so this one checks out.

I have so many more but there you go for a start. Working with Loki is just sheer chaos, if you couldn't already tell.

[mykneeshurt]

Beg - Soap x AFAB reader

Soap fucks up on a mission and needs to beg for forgiveness

Warnings - 18+, explicit smut, dom/sub ish, p in v, submissive soap, power imbalance, roughish sex, just porn tbh

I have horrific ovulation pain and can’t sleep, so re-worked one of my old fics for Soap. I love this gif so much. He’s so fuckin cute. Anyway enjoy

‘What the fuck was that Soap?!’ You screamed as you slammed the door to your office. ‘You directly disobeyed an order Sergeant.’ Pinching the bridge of your nose you tried to steady your breathing. ‘He was gonna kill the you! And what you’re ok with that?!’

‘They weren’t gonna do shit, and you fuckin know it. You just wanted to be a fuckin saviour.’ You threw your hands up through sheer frustration.

Soap approached your desk, his combat boots echoed on the polished wooden floor. ‘What you want me to say? I ain’t gonna apologise for puttin’ that piece of shit down.’ You glared at him from behind your desk. ‘I’m not asking you to apologise John. I’m fucking furious with you. Do you even realise how much you’ve cost us with that stunt?!’ You were physically shaking, inside and out.

You didn’t want to be mad at him, in the long run he probably did you a favour by killing him. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, or if there was anything Soap could do right now to make it up to you.

You stood up from your chair and trudged to your office bar. ‘Want one?’ You said bluntly to him. He chewed his cheek, jaw tense, he was holding back. ‘Yeah.’ His gravelly voice cut through the tense atmosphere. You poured two Malt Whiskeys on the rocks and took a sip before handing Soap his. He swirled the liquor around before taking swig, his eyes locked with yours.

He’s a prick, but he’s gorgeous. Fuck. The butterflies raged in your stomach.

’That wasn’t my first time having a gun to my head John.’ you said calmly. You eyed your drink watching the dim orange glow of the lights bounce off the ice. ‘You kinda get used to it being in this line of work. You of all people should know that.’ you said bluntly. He grunted nodding his head. ‘What is it?’ You asked, perching yourself on the edge of your desk.

Soap thumbed the rim on his glass, his jaw working overtime. He didn’t like how well you could read him. You were a calm to his chaos, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He felt safe with you, after the multitude of missions you’d been on through the years, there was unwritten trust between the two of you. His innocent blue eyes flitted around the room before resting on your face. He licked his bottom lip and shook his head to side, a small grin swept across his lips.

‘Seein’ you like that? With a gun to your head. Reminded me of that hostage we lost in Moscow.’ You were stunned. You’d never seen Soap so vulnerable. ‘Needed to save you’ cause I couldn’t save her’ he continued. You peered at him over your crystal glass. His face appeared genuine, genuine concern for you and your life.

You sighed, ‘As … sweet as that is you had no right. We’re a team, and I’m your superior, you disobeyed me.’ He hung his head still thumbing the rim of his drink. ‘I know.’ he said softly. Seeing him like this shouldn’t have turned you on as much as it did. But seeing the way he berated himself for letting himself care about you, seeing him become so vulnerable, it gave you an idea.

‘Johnny?’ You whispered as you placed your glass down, your eyes lingered on the glass. His azure eyes looked up at you, waiting for you to scold him again. ‘Do you trust me?’ He re-adjusted himself in the chair, his hips bucked slightly, he brought him thumb to his mouth and nipped it gently. ‘Yeah?’

‘Beg.’

Soaps eyes widened. ‘What?’ You stood up, and adjusted the right pencil skirt that hugged your curves. ‘I want you to kneel and I want you to beg for my forgiveness.’ He twitched in the chair, you’d never been dominant in this way with him before. His eyes darted to the floor and back to yours.

He slowly slid to the front of the chair and sunk to his knees, never breaking eye contact with you. His combat boots creaked as they settled into their new position. He looked up at you with doe like eyes, a small smirk brushed across his lips. ‘Ma’am’ he grunted. Your heart was racing.

You had one of the 141 task force, in your office, on his knees.

You sat on the edge of your desk and placed your black patent stiletto on his collar bone, elongating your leg. His jaw clenched and rippled, not once breaking eye contact. ‘What to do with you McTavish? What. To. Do.’ You pushed your heel into his shirt and into his skin, pain wasn’t the aim of this. You knew he could handle pain well.

‘You disappointed me today Johnny. That will not do’ you cooed as you sipped your drink. ‘You can’t take away my disappointment, but I can take away your pleasure.’

Soap was knelt upright, attentive, taking in every word that slipped past your lips. You knew Soap had always wanted to touch you, feel your skin on his, you’d caught the way he looked at you.

He loves being in control. So, naturally you were going to deny him this. ‘You don’t touch me and you don’t close your eyes. Otherwise I’ll stop. Do you understand?’ You pressed your heel further into his skin hoping to cause a mark.

‘Ma’am’ he grunted, his eyes darted to your heel on his chest. He bowed his head and kissed your shoe, his breath lighting up on the black material. ‘Good.’

You stood up and placed two fingers under his chin directing him to stand. Soap slowly stood, his eyes took in every detail of you as he rose. Once stood above you, you stood inches away from him, you could see his forearms twitching with frustration at your rules. He was desperate to touch you, to feel you beneath him. Desperate to break you.

Pushing him backwards he resumed his position sat in the chair, hips splayed, legs apart. You climbed on top, straddling him. You leant into his neck and nipped it slightly before nipping at his ear, letting out a small faint moan. He was tense. You undid a few buttons on your black silk shirt revealing a tease of your cleavage. Soap watched your every move, drinking you in.

You bit down on his collar bone intending to make your mark on him. He gritted his teeth trying to hold in a moan. You lifted your head and lent into his face just shy of his lips. His thick, soft lips. ‘Mmm, good boy. You’re doing so well.’

You bit his bottom lip while your raked your nails through his hair and scalp. You gripped his hair and pulled back exposing his strong neck, pulse visible just beneath the surface. You ran your tongue along his pulsating artery and bit down again, harder. Soap bucked his hips against you, you snaked your hand down to his hard cock. ‘Shhh all in good time’ you whispered into the nape of his neck.

You were impressed at his restraint, he hadn’t moved once. His hands firmly by his side. Time to up the anti.

You sat up on your knees and slowly brought your middle and ring finger to his mouth. ‘Open.’ As he opened his mouth you inserted your fingers for him to suck. He complied. He watched as you inserted them into your wet pussy. Grinding your fingers against your spot, your other hand wrapped around his throat.

You pressed your forehead against his, breathing heavily against lips. Lazily slurring his name in between breathless moans. His breathing quickened, his legs twitched beneath you. You quickened your pace, chasing your high, hips swaying back and forth over him. He watched you wide eyed, seemingly unable to process the scene in-front of him.

He was right where you wanted him.

He was breaking.

You brought yourself close to the brink of orgasm but stopped. Slowly you brought your fingers to his mouth to taste you. He slowly sucked off the juices from your fingers and grazed them with his teeth. A small whimper broke deep within him.

Holding his gaze you undid his belt and trousers, the touch of your hand on his cock was enough. He released the breath he didn’t know he was holding, a smile broke out across his lips as he threw his head back. A guttural moan came from his throat as you worked his cock with your hand, smirking as you did so. He moved his hips in an attempt to feel more of you stroke him. You snatched his head back up to look at you, your eyes dark with desire. ‘What do you want Johnny?’ He swallowed hard, his mouth dry.

‘You’ he whimpered, his voice cracking with pure need.

You straddled him again before placing a deep needy kiss on his lips. ‘Then take it.’

This was all the permission Soap needed, he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you onto his hips. He stood up and slammed your back onto your desk. He pushed into you, both of you letting out a breathy gasp as he stretched you open. His rhythm was brutal. He reached down and gripped your throat, his other hand grasping onto your hip. ‘God fuckin Damn’ he whispered under his breath. You raked your nails along his arms, moaning his name in between breaths.

Bringing your one had down to your clit you rubbed small circles as Soap slammed into you. The sound of skin on skin echoed in your office, you arched your back, legs wrapped around his waist. He ran his thumb across your lower lip ‘I’m close’ he muttered.

‘Cum for me Johnny, cum for me’ you mewled. His thrusts slowed, they became deeper. Just as he came in you, you found your own release. You caught a glimpse of him, his eyes rolled back as he bit his lip gripping onto your inner thigh.

As he was coming down from his high he placed his arm by your head and lent down to kiss you. Sighing into the kiss you cupped his face, ‘good boy.’ Soap stifled a laugh and his cheeks blushed a rosy pink.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ep 4. hey, you alright? | myj, jjk

sugar, spice, and everything nice ep 4. hey, you alright?

pairing(s): yoonji x reader x jungkook

summary: After encountering Jeon Jungkook's fuckbuddy on the train, Min Yoonji is in shambles. In shambles, but determined to do something about it. Doing nothing will only further the distance between her and one of her best friends. Yoonji figures she can throw a party, get him alone, and talk it out. And it works... sort of.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; pan!f!reader; pan!Yoonji; internalized homophobia; gay panic; ft OT6 (Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook come to Yoonji's place for games and grub); minor alcohol consumption; f/f/m love triangle confessions (!!!); non-idol!AU - Yoonji's POV

--

This was the worst.

Not that Min Yoonji was the doomsday type – well, maybe – but, fuck, this was the worst. She knew she couldn’t let it go on like this. Just get over it. It was impossible. No, she had lived long enough to know it would be a terrible idea to avoid it any longer. Against better judgement, she needed to know. Just pretend. Absolutely not. Lying was out of the question. Not after that prolonged eye contact in the semi-darkness in front of the bath house. That warm hand holding her hand. I can’t lie to those eyes. But then there was also…

Anyway, she had to do something.

And so, she hosted a party.

That was making it sound more than it was. It was more of a mild get-together. Yoonji brought another pack of cold beers to her coffee table, calmly placing them against the snacks as her living room erupted with cheers from three guys. She collected the empty cans and spared a look at the chaos. Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Jeon Jungkook were bouncing around in a circle, excited at the goal scored. Funnily enough, they were all dressed true to their personalities – Jimin in a neatly fitted sky blue sweater and dark jeans, Taehyung in a white t-shirt and loose brown pants, Jungkook in all black fit. A hoodie and cargo pants.

She had invited them all over to watch Team Korea’s match this evening.

Kim Seokjin hadn’t been able to make it due to work commitments. That handsome guy had an early call time for his latest movie shoot, which was understandable. He had been disappointed, because it was quite rare for Yoonji to host, and he had childishly complained about not getting the good treatment. That was Seokjin’s own way of expressing that he missed them. Yoonji missed him too, as he was the only one older than her, and, although she could never trust Seokjin during the apocalypse, she did appreciate that he always helped out with cooking and cleaning.

Seokjin also understood her, innately, and naturally overtook duties when she was wearing out.

She headed back to the kitchen. Yoonji didn’t host often because it was a social commitment that would last several hours, and her introverted self had limits. She did, however, enjoy watching sports, especially basketball. Football was also up there, bumped onto a slightly lower tier because, well, the black-and-white ball smacking into the net wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the swish of orange. Anyway, she was glad they could all come, even if it was noisy.

“Ah, glad I didn’t come back to a burnt stove or a chopped-off finger.”

“Oi!”

Kim Namjoon made a face at her from above the onion. The way the tall, built man was clutching the knife was slightly concerning. Yoonji prodded over and fixed his hand positioning on the handle, shaking her head. Namjoon frowned. Comical for such a stern-looking face. Yoonji pointed to his light-colored sweatshirt.

“How did you get onion juice on you already?”

Namjoon looked down, his eyes widening, his deep voice annoyed. “What? Aw, shit!”

She didn’t know why such a clumsy guy had chosen a matching cream sweat set to wear. The world was full of mysteries. “I’ll ask Jimin to help,” she sighed exaggeratedly.

“Hah, noona, come on. I can at least cut an onion.” Namjon pouted. Now that was hilarious for a man almost two meters all. “Let the young ones have fun. Have some faith in me.”

With a wave of her hand, Yoonji made a disgruntled noise and turned away, already feeling the prickling of irritation at the corners of her eyes from the half-chopped onion. She would have overtaken onion duty if she didn’t go blind while doing it. Damn onions for being natural bioweapons. She began to prep the carrots instead.

“Don’t let year fourteen of knowing you be the last year.”

“Noona…”

Still, she laughed under her breath. “Thanks for helping me with dinner.”

“I don’t know if I’ve actually helped yet,” Namjoon muttered, chopping very slowly.

She wanted to say something, but she found herself silent and going through the motions, swiftly slicing up the carrots and cabbage. Occasionally Jimin with his neatly parted hair and concerned face would pop into the kitchen, asking if he could help, and Yoonji would wave him away. Then, moments later, Taehyung would inevitably stick his nose into the kitchen after his bathroom break, his permed dark brown curls sticking up in every direction, peeking into the oven to see the crisping meat, and Yoonji would shoo him away too.

Jungkook only stopped by once.

“You two okay? I can help make ramyeon.”

Maybe it was just her imagination, but his voice sounded more timid than usual. She would usually raise her head and scold him. This time, Yoonji kept her eyes on the simmering pot and kept stirring.

“We’re fine. Go sit down,” she said to the noodles.

“Ah… Okay.”

Once she heard him moving away from the kitchen, she let out a contained breath. Namjoon came up beside her, holding the bowls of sliced carrot, onion, and cabbage. The poor onion looked as if it had been through a woodchipper. Meh, no one will even notice once it is all mixed in. Minced was an understatement.

“Hey, you alright?”

“Hm?” Yoonji answered absentmindedly, taking the bowls and gesturing to the carton of eggs on the kitchen counter.

The tall male went over to fetch them, sending her a searching look. “You were a pretty blunt just now.”

She paused slightly. “Ah… I was distracted.” She waited a moment and turned off the heat, ready to drain the noodles.

“I can’t help but feel that you’ve been a bit cold to Jungkook today.”

The hot steam shot up as Yoonji poured the water into the sink, carefully using chopsticks to hold back the bulk of the noodles. She sensed Namjoon backing up, probably due to the clouding of his glasses. She took the moment to reflect. Yes, that was one of the reasons for today, to figure out if she was okay in Jungkook’s presence. To test if she was, well, normal. To stop running away.

It was… going well.

“Did something happen?” he gently asked. “We can always talk later.”

“I…”

She turned around to see a frowning Kim Namjoon. He looked like a worried Great Dane with his great height and presence.

“Ahah, no, it’s nothing like that,” Yoonji sighed, giving up. “It’s a small misunderstanding. I was going to ask him to stay back a little tonight and talk about it. You know how it is for me. When people ask me to talk one-on-one, I’m a lot more comfortable. When I have to initiate, I have to make a lot of effort.”

He nodded, understanding. “Oh, I see. That’s good. It’s been a while since just you and Jungkook hung out. He mentioned recently that he missed drinking at your place.”

She felt her cheeks warm. It was probably the steam of the noodles as she was transferring them to a metal bowl. She began to pour in packets of sauce and adding additional seasonings. “Oh.” Her hands moved quickly as her mind slowed down, noisily clacking the chopsticks to evenly coat the noodles. “I didn’t realize it’s been a while.” Or that he noticed.

Namjoon’s hooded gaze lowered, bending down slightly to keep eye contact. “You seem a bit withdrawn lately. Work going well? Or is it something else?”

She tried to laugh it off, but only just. “Work’s fine. Busy, but fine.”

“Creative block?”

Yoonji thought back to her lyric notebook, the pages crumpled, covered in scribbled confessions and confused fantasies that she desperately wanted to scream to the world, yet couldn’t. “Hm, you’re probably right about that.”

Her longtime friend nodded, his glasses and buzzcut making him look like a sage-like chestnut. “Yeah, that makes sense. My door is always open.”

She chuckled. “My experiments are a bit too childish for a professional.”

Namjoon made a face. “Don’t be like that. Even if you only want it to be a hobby like you said, you’re talented at making music, Yoonji-noona. I’ve always said that.”

“Haha, thank you.” She finished the ramyeon and added some cheese on top. She began to sauté the vegetables to add as a side dish, along with kimchi. “How about you? Working on anything new?”

“Hmm, finishing up some master mixes.” Namjoon was a music producer at an entertainment company. Probably what Yoonji would have done in another life, if she was braver. “Doing some experiments of my own now that I have time. I’ve recently begun to focus more on delivering those pure, closed-off feelings in my latest project, even if it pains me to do so.”

She flicked the pan, distributing the mix evenly. “Oh? How cool of you.”

“Ah, I don’t know of it’s cool or pathetic.” He sounded sheepish.

“It’s not pathetic to talk about painful things, Namjoon-ah. We all go through such things.”

A deep, embarrassed laugh. “Yeah… Haha, you’re right. I’m only having a little trouble because I want it to be simpler, but my own poeticism is getting in the way. If I’m allowed to talk about myself like that.”

With a hum, Yoonji wholeheartedly agreed. “You’ve always had a way with words.”

He sounded distant, as if he was talking to himself.

“Not a way with love, though.”

-

If there was a way to figure this out alone, Yoonji would have gone that route. If there was a way to stay silent and watch it work itself out, she would have let it happen. The answer wasn’t that simple, and so she found herself surrounded by Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook, the two who hung back to clean up after the chaos. Kim Taehyung had wanted to stay behind, but he offered to take Kim Namjoon home instead, who had passed out at some point. A testament to his long nights lately, she was sure, and Taehyung lived the closest to him. Jimin had dragged Jungkook to help him, not that the youngest needed to be ordered about. They had a textbook older-brother-younger-brother relationship complete with meaningless bickering.

“Take out the trash.”

“No, you.”

“You’re stronger!”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with anything!”

Yoonji simply shook her head and let them fight, watching Jimin carry the recycling out while Jungkook grabbed the trash bag. It wasn’t necessary, but it did save her the trip of carrying it all herself. She wiped down the kitchen counters as the last step. Waited a moment. Soon enough Jimin came back, ready to wash his hands before heading out. Yoonji frowned.

“Where’s the kid?”

Jimin stuck his tongue out. “I made him sort the recycling.”

“Hah… I should have gone with you two.”

He huffed. “He can handle it.” Those swift dark eyes shifted from the soap to her face. He rinsed them off as he added, “I wanted a word with you, anyway.”

She felt her frown deepen. “Hm?”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Jimin said softly, drying his hands on the spare towel. “It seems like… You’re having a hard time, maybe?”

A muscle in her eye twitched. Fuck, am I that obvious? “What?”

He straightened he sleeves of his sky-blue sweater. “Ah, come on, noona. We’ve known each other for a long time,” he chided, punching her shoulder lightly. She shot him a look and Jimin held up his hands in mock defeat. “Okay, I get it. Just…” His arms lowered slowly. He smiled, as he did when nervous. “I’m totally useless when it comes to problem solving, but I can listen. I have ears.”

Yoonji narrowed her eyes. “Hm, they’re kinda small. Like the rest of you.”

The little angel flared. “Hey! I’m not–”

She waved away his words with an impatient hand. “It’s not like I don’t get down sometimes. I’m human. Anyway, why do you think I asked you guys if you wanted to come over? I simply needed some human interaction. That’s all.”

Jimin softened. “Ah. Yeah, makes sense.”

They shared a beat of silence.

He was still giving her a strange look of knitted brows and upturned lips. She raised an eyebrow. He shook his head. And then Yoonji got it. Oh. Jimin seemed to catch on, too, that she finally understood what he had been hinting at. They had, after all, known each other for a long time. He had only learned of the very low lows after the fact, but the concern was valid. She shook her head.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” she assured him.

He seemed relieved.

“That’s good then.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder.

Jungkook burst into the apartment, looking pissed off.

“Park Jimin, you linthead, why would you–”

Insulting Jimin’s hair was a surefire way to get a fiery response. However, the youngest cut off mid-sentence, wide-eyed once he noticed the closeness between Jimin and Yoonji. She locked eyes with big, brown ones. An irrational guilt squeezed inside her ribcage to the point of crushing. There was a moment too long of frozen silence, and then she smacked her palms into Jimin’s chest, sending him stumbling back with a surprised yelp.

“Aah!”

Both Yoonji and Jungkook watched as Jimin nearly crashed into the kitchen island, catching himself with one hand. He reoriented himself and sent Yoonji a startled look. A split second to decide to look away or glare back. She frowned and crossed her arms. Jimin seemed taken aback.

Jungkook said nothing.

The front door closed behind him with a squeak and a click.

“The fuck…?”

Jimin looked hurt.

She felt the tops of her cheeks warm. “Sorry, I…” She found that she couldn’t look at Jungkook so instead she reached out and held out her hand to Jimin. And lied. “The moment reminded me of a bad situation I was in the past. Really shitty déjà vu. Not your fault. I reacted badly. I’m sorry.”

He accepted her apology right away, taking her hand to lift himself up. “Oh.” He looked empathetic. It made her feel even guiltier. “That’s okay.” He was about to say something else but Yoonji patted his hand.

“You should have helped him.”

“Jungkookie’s a big boy,” Jimin teased, letting go of her hand. “Right, kid?”

She couldn’t help but feel a loss of safety at the action.

The youngest puffed a cheek. At least, that was what she heard. “Stop acting like you’re so much older.”

“Oh, as if you aren’t hitching a ride with me,” Jimin tutted, walking up to that big chest and pulling out his keys. “I gotta babysit the baby, noona.”

“Actually, uh…”

She finally raised her head to see Jimin and Jungkook staring back at her like two meerkats on the lookout. One in blue and one in black. An uncomfortable thump-thump tittered in her chest when she made eye contact with the one in black. Deep breath. “Actually, can you stay back for a bit, Jungkook? I want to ask you something. I’ll pay for a ride home for you.”

Something flickered in those dark brown eyes.

Yoonji tried not to bite her lip in nervousness.

Then, Jungkook huffed and poked Jimin in the chest. “Go babysit yourself, shorty. I have to go wash my hands because of you.” He stepped around Jimin, kicking off his shoes and heading towards the guest bathroom. “I was gonna call my friend to pick me up, anyway.”

“Your girlfriend?” Jimin snickered.

“Shut up.”

And, perhaps for the most fleeting of seconds, Jungkook caught Yoonji’s gaze.

They shared a stilled breath of silence.

Then he moved out of sight and yelled, from the bathroom. “Get out, Jimin-ssi!”

Jimin rolled his eyes. “Can you believe this guy? Acting like he owns the place.”

Yoonji smiled, feeling somewhere between relief and panic. “Thanks for helping me clean up.”

“Anytime, anytime.” Jimin slipped into his loafers and saluted her. “I leave the baby in your capable hands. Call me if he whines.”

She was about to say something related to that, but then Yoonji stopped, holding the door for Jimin.

“I’m sorry, again, for pushing you like that.”

He shook his head. “Hey, I get it. It was instinctive.” Jimin smiled, then reached out to give her a small hug. She returned it, feeling remorseful. He let go and beamed at her. “I know you’ll hate hearing this, but even if you’re older than me, noona, I still feel the need to protect you. Even if you don’t want me to. Me and the guys are your safety net, okay?”

She made a face and tried not to cringe. “Ew.”

Jimin grinned, making his eyes disappear.

“Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, love ya. Go away before I vomit. Bye.”

She shut the door and held her breath.

I can’t do this.

She couldn’t blow all this up.

Implode everything for… for what? She almost wished she hadn’t talked to Jimin like that. It only reminded her of what she could lose if she opened her mouth. She leaned against the door. Exhaled heavily. She didn’t have to say anything. Fuck, was she not the older one? The more mature one? The one to take some damn responsibility? She was making a mistake. It was time to tell Jungkook to go home. She turned around, intending to go into the living room.

The door to the guest bathroom opened.

Jeon Jungkook stepped out, looking worn out as if he too he just lost his own internal battle.

His black hair was a bit damp, like he had splashed his face and pushed his bangs back. Wet strands drifted against his forehead. His hoodie sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, revealing one tattooed, muscular forearm and one equally defined, un-inked one. He ran his hand through his hair again, his head turning, searching in the stillness.

Yoonji paused.

The youngest of her friends stopped too, realizing they were alone.

He had such a handsome face, truly.

She cleared her throat a bit and started shuffling to the living room.

“You, uh, should call your friend.”

The words felt as if they were burning her throat as she said them.

Jungkook hesitated, then followed. “Didn’t you want to ask me something?”

She pointed to the couch. He obediently plopped down. She stared at him for a second, faltered, and backed away.

“Ah, on second thought, it’s nothing,” she forced herself to say.

Those large eyes followed her movement. Yoonji told herself to run. Then his gaze went downcast. She felt a tug of regret. His hands weren’t moving to his pockets yet. They hung between his legs. He slotted one onto the other.

Holding his own hand.

Silence.

Then, he nodded.

“Okay, noona.”

His name flew out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“Jungkook.”

He looked up, confused.

Her heart was beating so fast that it was choking her. Her hands felt hot. The ghost of recollection, another wrapped around the back of her hand, standing at the entrance of a bathhouse under the moonlight. A mischievous smile flashed in her mind’s eye. Shit, it felt so fucking weird with Jungkook, him staring at her as if they didn’t know each other. When had this distance appeared, and why? Yoonji found she hated it. She hated this distance more than all these other confusing emotions.

She went over and sat down next to him.

He seemed startled, his broad shoulders jumping, and Yoonji was pissed at how this closeness was no longer the comforting feeling it used to be. They used to be fine with this. They used to tease each other and laugh together. They used to be friends.

And she was going to lose him if she didn’t say something.

“Jungkook, I…”

Get it over with, Min Yoonji!

“I like your girlfriend.”

Those big brown eyes widened, his pink lips parting, the overhead light catching the tops of his cheekbones.

“Me too,” he breathed.

They stared at each other.

Then, his words actually clicked in Yoonji’s mind. Wait, what? But before she could say anything more, Jungkook grimaced and buried his head in his hands, mussing up his hair in a mild panic.

“Fuck, I should have asked her to be my girlfriend from the start!”

She jolted, not expecting this result. “You still haven’t?”

“Ah, I…” He shook his head like a dog, nervous energy pitching his normally deep voice. “She… fuck, Yoonji-noona, I know, I know, I screwed up saying nothing, just like last time…”

“Whoa, slow down.”

She reached out a hand, paused, then placed it on his upper arm. Jungkook was hunched over, elbows on thighs, not looking at her, stricken.

“Hey. Hey,” she said, shaking his shoulder. “Get a grip. What do you mean?”

She saw his brows furrow. He continued staring at the ground. “I… I don’t know. I can tell she’s pulling away, because of me… I can’t bring myself to say anything, because…”

“Hah?” Yoonji scowled and squeezed him under her hand. “What more assurance do you need?”

Jungkook lifted his head.

He looked beaten. He looked guilty. His gaze wavered. She held onto him. He felt solid and strong in her hold, but his eyes were lost, imprisoned in unspoken hopes and fears. Her problems seemed stupid compared to this heartbreaking confusion before her.

She sighed, putting on a resigned expression. “What is it? Do you need someone else to tell her for you?”

His eyes went from the floor to her face. Yoonji felt her teasing tone falter.

“I couldn’t say anything to you.”

Her heart stopped.

Jungkook lowered his head again, tilting his gaze. His voice sounded far away and sad. “If I couldn’t say anything to you, someone I am comfortable with, someone I have a friendship with, then how can I say anything to someone I absolutely can’t lose?”

Her hand left his arm.

“W… What?” she breathed, staring at him.

He took in a deep breath and turned his body a bit to better face her.

“Yoonji-noona…”

She couldn’t move, slack-jawed.

Apology in those deep brown eyes. He opened his mouth but Yoonji shot her hand out, gripping his forearm, his skin hot under her cold fingers. We’ve been friends for a really long time. If we were gonna date, it would have happened already. Oh, shit. She swallowed hard, realizing how her off-hand comment must have affected him back then. She tried to breathe. It was impossible, so she picked trying to speak instead.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” she croaked, wanting to run and stay at the same time.

He winced. “Uh… Yeah,” Jungkook mumbled, his eyes shifting away.

She shook his arm impatiently. “Since when?”

The sound of him clearing his throat seemed to radiate throughout the room. “Um. Well.” He stumbled through words, stringing them together oddly. “While ago. You were dating that… uh, you called him a bastard too. Even when you broke up, you seemed off. Really depressed. Drinking every night at Namjoon-hyung’s place. I was so worried, but he told me to give you time. I… Anyway. I mean, I’ve always only been a kid in your eyes. And you’re my friend. So. Wouldn’t work. And I… I would rather be your friend than be rejected. I guess I got over it. And I met her, eventually. Uh, so... you know... I’m over it.” He waved his free right hand awkwardly.

His fingers stilled.

He dropped his hand.

“But I don’t think I’m really over it.”

His lips twisted upward, revealing the small mole underneath them. Perfectly in the center. Perfect, like the rest of him.

“If I was, then she’d be mine right now,” Jungkook sighed, the air rushing out of his whole chest at his words.

She didn’t know what to say.

Her other hand grasped her jeans, trying to steady herself with the tactile world. Her mind went back to that Instagram post. It was then. Of course, she hadn’t been in the right headspace back then. She had been playing mental Russian roulette between all that gaslighting and toxicity. After the breakup, she actively numbed her emotions every day, every night. Tried so hard to dissociate. Wore out the words, I’m fine, like it was in fashion. The worst part was how she felt like such an idiot, knowing she had willingly let herself be that pathetic for someone that ultimately didn’t matter. That internal shame had projected into her avoiding any meaningful connection with her friends except for Hoseok. Probably wouldn’t have reconnected with them at all if it wasn’t for that ball of sunshine pushing her to rejoin society. Contrary to her intrusive thoughts, they had all welcomed her back as if she hadn’t lost contact for months.

Jungkook sighed.

It took Yoonji a moment to realize he had sighed her name.

No, not her name but her name.

“She’s so cool. That was the first thing I thought when I saw her.” He raised his head, gazing into a direction not in this room. “She hadn’t spoken a word and I already liked her. Fuck, when she looked at me… I swear my heart stopped. I couldn’t stop thinking about her eyes for weeks. So fucking hot. She’s smart, too. Knows so much stuff about everything. About life. I thought it must be a dream when she kept talking to me. Me? No way, right? She even likes my dumb humor. Her laugh is so great, especially when she can’t breathe… It’s so funny.” He smiled briefly. Then it vanished. “She’s tough too. She told me a little about how she grew up, and I… huh, is this selfish? I just keep thinking, I want to be the one who makes her happy. I want her to always be happy. But…”

He sighed heavily.

“Maybe I don’t have the guts, after all.”

There was no good word to describe how she felt. Stunned. Ashamed. A hinderance. Should she have known? Could she have known? If that now meaningless bastard hadn’t fucked her up so bad, would this conversation be different? But she couldn’t change anything now. The world was moving fast and slow at the same time. It must have been seconds, but it felt like hours. He wasn’t blaming her. And yet, Yoonji couldn’t help but think that her choices, her actions, her very existence had made everything worse, somehow. She pulled her touch away.

Jungkook’s head turned slowly, making eye contact.

“It makes sense,” he chuckled dryly. Half-smiled. “Why you would like her.”

Then those dark brows knitted together.

“Wait. What do you mean, Yoonji-noona, you like her?” he started, jerking back in alarm.

Her heart leapt to her throat.

“Uh–”

Then, the devil herself interrupted.

An explosion of sound blasted from his right pocket. They both jumped, startled at the intrusion of a rising ringtone, growling singing mixed with heavy guitars. His hands fumbled with his pants and Jungkook yanked his phone out of his pocket, his eyes widening at the name, answering it after shooting her a frightened look.

“H-Hello? Noona?”

“Hey, you didn’t text me.” She could barely hear that husky voice but she could hear it all right. She sounded annoyed. “You answered so you’re not dead. I thought you said you needed me to pick you up?”

“Um.” He glanced at Yoonji.

She threw up her hands in a wordless the-fuck-you-looking-at-me-for stance.

“Oi. Earth to Jeon Jungkook.”

The tip of his pink tongue flickered over his lips. “Ah… yeah. Yeah, sorry. I’ll text you the address.”

“Hey, if you wanna stay longer, that’s fine. I just need to know a time so I don’t pass out too early.”

“No, noona, um, please.” Jungkook glanced at her again. Yoonji looked away, feeling her cheeks warm. Why was he looking at her repeatedly like that? “If you could come now. Please.”

“Hmm, a please, huh? Well… since you’re insisting so sweetly.”

And then the call ended.

She snapped her head back and clenched her jaw. “What are you doing–”

“Shouldn’t we talk to her?”

Yoonji froze. He was certainly right. She must be losing it if Jungkook was being the sensible one here. Argh, fuck it. She pursed her lips, not willing to meet his gaze.

“You’re right. Go on. Text her the address.”

“Are you su–”

She snapped towards him and nodded fiercely. “Come on. We’ve run around in circles long enough. I’m tired of things being weird between us. Before anything, we’re friends, Jungkook. Let’s not act like strangers.”

He was gripping his phone very tightly, his cheeks flushed pink, his big peepers extra big.

“Y… Yeah. You’re right.”

-

Half-smirk.

“Yo.”

Black bomber jacket with an oversized ruffle on the shoulders, dark scarlet silk slip dress with an exaggerated black lace trim, and black heeled boots. The bright silver buckles were in the shape of moons. Her hair was wild. There was not a lick of makeup on her face except for lip balm that gave her full, mauve-pink lips a glossy sheen. She moved and Yoonji looked away, startled at the leg slits of the slinky dress that exposed even more of her upper thighs.

“Crazy I ran into you here,” Jungkook maybe-maybe-not girlfriend mused out loud. “Nice sweater. Excellent taste, might I add.”

Yoonji suddenly felt very shapeless in her dark-grey and black striped sweater and baggy light wash jeans. Shapeless, but not clueless.

“Hah…”

The past twenty minutes had been pretty damn awkward. Neither she nor Jungkook could get the balls to speak to the other, even though one of them had grown up with them. Yup. What a sign of long-term friendship. Right. Maybe they both thought everything would be solved with the appearance of those scorched eyes. Or maybe they hoped they could pretend all this never happened if she didn’t show up. Perhaps she would get annoyed at the run around and tell Jungkook off.

Or something.

Yoonji backed up and ticked her head inside her apartment.

“Come in.”

A shift in gaze. “Simply to pick him up? What did you do to him?”

She tried not to notice or care about the mischievous glint under lashes. Like cinders still burning. There was nowhere else to look, though. The woman on the other side of her door had her hands in the pockets of her jacket. It was unzipped, giving peeks of those exposed collarbones and the lace-trimmed décolletage. Looking at those bare legs was an absolute no-go.

“Just get in here,” Yoonji muttered, backing away from the door and heading out of frame.

She didn’t bother to look. She did hear the faint hum and two steps into her home. A pause. Yoonji turned back around to see her front door being closed. They locked eyes. She looked away first. A soft, bemused sigh.

“N… Noona.”

Yoonji jumped at the appearance of a black lump with too-big eyes standing in the hallway. His hands were shoved into the front pocket of his hoodie. He had even pulled up the hood, like some kind of utterly useless fabric safety net to the fire before them. He awkwardly shuffled a bit closer, avoiding Yoonji’s stare.

“Hey, Jungkook.” Her tone was still light. “Sup?”

He coughed. “Uh…”

“You wanna tell me why I’m standing here with the two of you acting like you just buried a body?”

Yoonji winced. She turned back to a raised eyebrow. The woman hadn’t gotten out of her boots yet. Still standing there next to the door with Jungkook’s discarded sneakers and Yoonji’s everyday ones. When she shrugged, the oversized ruffle of her bomber jacket flounced to accentuate it. She flickered her gaze from one to the other. Still silence. Finally, Jungkook’s more-then-friend-with-benefits crossed her arms and shot them both a discerning eye.

“Look, I’m not the police. I don’t feel like interrogating.” She sucked the inside of her cheek and made a dimple appear. “Kinda seems like you both wanna tell me something, though. So, out with it.” Tilt of the head, her hair curling in waves around her face.

No one spoke.

Those dark eyes hardened to flint. She sighed, now impatient.

“Hm? You both confessing you fucked or what?”

Yoonji could feel her cheeks burn to red in an instant.

“What? No!”

and

“No? What!”

At the same time.

Jungkook had exclaimed in unison with Yoonji, flinging his hands out and crossing the distance. Immediately Yoonji backed up – into where else but towards the fire herself. She almost tripped when she felt a hand on her back push her forward. She spun, freezing as she ended up beside Jungkook, gawking at the woman standing by the door with an ominous but otherwise unreadable expression.

Said expression shifted from one guilty expression to the other.

“Yeah. Okay.”

She rolled her eyes and lowered her arms.

She made to leave. Jungkook called her name, pain in his tone. She stopped mid-turn, stilling. Yoonji could hear it too. She looked from him to her. That scalding stare informed them that she would not let herself be burned again. It wasn’t quite directed at either of them though. Just guarded in general.

“It’s not like that,” he pleaded. “Please believe me.”

A beat of bated breath. Then she straightened and regarded him like bird of prey. “It wouldn’t matter if it was,” she concluded. She shrugged again with an inappropriate, small floof. “I only need to know for my own sexual health. You said you don’t want to be my boyfriend. You don’t need to worry about my feelings being hurt, because they aren’t.”

The look on Jungkook’s face indicated that she might as well have slapped him.

Finally, Yoonji nudged herself forward. “We didn’t. I wouldn’t.”

The second that sharp gaze swiveled and pierced right through her, she winced. It was not the same as the teasing playfulness or even the ambiguous friendliness. It was disappointment. Not focused at her. Overall, at the entire situation. As if this happened enough times for her to know all the script, marks, camera angles. As if she knew this would happen despite not wanting the current cast to be part of the scene.

“But you would.”

There were a right answer and a wrong answer here.

Yoonji couldn’t answer at all.

A curt nod to the silence. Those predator eyes went to Jungkook.

“And you?”

He chewed on his lower lip, the windows to his soul glassy.

“You know I want to be with you. More than anyone.”

For fuck’s sake, there was more silence than there was talking. After a prolonged pause, the woman left out a low sigh, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets, running her tongue over her back teeth. Yoonji finally found her voice. Small and unsteady, sure, but she spoke up anyway.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.”

A shadow crossed over dark orbs. The fire within died down a bit.

Or, at least, was obscured.

“You know.” That soft, husky voice calmed, retracting the previous sharpness. “I believe sex is an action that reflects undeniable truths. But, I know unspoken intentions reveal more than the actions themselves. So, while you two may not have had physical sex,” she said, slowly tilting her head from one way to the other. “That part matters less than the omission of truth. And I think I’m missing a big part of the picture right now.”

Yoonji exchanged glances with Jungkook, who moved at the same time, almost if on cue. They looked away from each other, then back up. Raised eyebrows. Shit. He was right. She was smart. And tough. She wasn’t running.

She did not run, for their sake.

Another sigh and the other woman reached down to unzip her boots. Stepped out of them, easily, and then she was standing right on front of them. In black socks with surprised-looking white ghosts all over, funnily enough. Lengthy eye contact with Jungkook. An entire conversation in silence. Then Yoonji. She had the strangest feeling, staring deep into those eyes. Bird of prey was the wrong judgement. There was no intent to conquer. She had already conquered. Yoonji could see it, from the way she held herself to the measure of forgiveness she had already given them. This was someone that spared no more naiveté when it came to others, a trait that could only be earned by having their innocence scorched to ash. She had overcome it, faced it, become reborn from it.

Like a phoenix.

A phoenix.

Her own eyes widened in the dark mirrors of the other woman.

She smiled faintly at Yoonji.

“Are you ready to fill me in?”

Then she knocked shoulders with them and headed to the living room.

Jungkook seemed anxious. He turned toward Yoonji. Probably for reassurance. She had none to give. Yeah, you and me both. Her heart was ricocheting in her ribcage. Too late to turn back now. She made an irritated face, muttering under her breath.

“Hmph. Fuck you for having good taste in women.”

-

ep 5. trust that i trust you. sugar, spice, and everything nice

--

min yoonji masterpost | masterpost

[fullcaps-ethan]

i was missing my OCs so i made a little doodle of them!!!

when i aw the pic i knew i neeeeeededdddd to redraw it! i'm about to lore dump with no context abt these kids so uh sorry

i feel these would take place when elliot (blue hair yellow sweater) and melody (brown hair pink shirt) are 16, finn (green hair brown sweater) and celeste (brown hair orange sweater) 15 and nico (brown hair blue shirt) is 13. nico is one of the only kids in the dorm who has a console and its this dsi that's holding on for bare life, on it he has like, mario kart ds, the first inazuma eleven game and like fucking trauma center under the knife 2. he's not particularly good at video games but he enjoys them regardless, but right now he cant beat a certain team on the inazuma eleven game, so he's been grumpy about it until celeste pesters him enough to learn why he's so frustrated. celeste can't game for shit, but in her usual proactive attitude she tries to find a solution to nico's problem, and asks the kids if they wanna try playing to help nico. only finn, elliot and melody are around so they get dragged into it. they all try their hands at it but nobody really gets any better results than nico, until celeste and elliot convince melody to sit down and give it a try, until now she was mostly babysitting them, seeing how this was the chaos quatuor out and about. anyways, that day the four of them find out melody is actully really good at video games bc she used to play a lot at arcades before she arrived where they're all staying rn

so now when nico has trouble with games he sits down with melody and she helps him train :)

[invisibleraven]

Phantom Carols

For the @jatp-adventevent prompt: Who does all the cookies and gingerbread house?

Day Sixteen: Let It Dough <-AO3!

Alex poofed into the Molina family kitchen and immediately regretted it. Every surface seemed to be covered, and Julie was there in the middle, tongue stuck out of the corner of her mouth as she happily stirred away at a bowl.

“Did a flour bomb explode?” he asked, taking in the dusting of white powder on the counters.

“Oh hey Alex, it’s Christmas baking season!” Julie replied. “I got a little carried away, but don’t worry, it’ll all get cleaned.”

Alex took in the ingredients everywhere, the dishes filling the sink, the oven humming with a tray of something inside. “How many cookies are you making?”

“At least ten different kinds,” Julie offered. “I give them away as gifts to my friends and then there’s more to eat when the family comes over on Christmas. I’d offer some to you and the guys but…”

“We can’t eat them,” Alex finished. “D-do you want some help baking them though?”

“You like to bake?”

Alex flushed but nodded. “Yeah, before everything, my mom and I made cookies every year at this time. Most to give away to the parishioners during Midnight Mass, but we also kept a few, just for the family. As I got older my dad discouraged it, but it was something I really enjoyed doing.”

“Well then roll up your sleeves!” Julie encouraged. “The sugar cookies are in the oven, these shortbreads are almost done, and then we can start on the gingerbread people!”

“You making a house too?” Alex snarked, starting to sort through the chaos in order to help her.

“Nah, store-bought for that is fine. We just have to watch it because Carlos likes to steal the candy and leaves the cookie part alone,” Julie cautioned.

“I mean, I don’t blame him there. No one really likes gingerbread.”

“Don’t tell my aunt that, she’s super proud of her recipe,” Julie replied.

Soon enough the mess was more organized or dealt with, the dishes cleaned and drying, and cookies were cooling on the rack. Alex helped Julie measure and mix all the ingredients. He still didn’t really like the taste of gingerbread, but he would admit that these smelled delicious, all sweet from the molasses and spicy from the ginger, cloves, and nutmeg. He cut out all the little people, half girls, half guys and put them in to bake.

A while later, when the baking was done, the kitchen disaster sorted, and the cookies cooled, it was time for Julie’s favourite part; decorating! They whipped up several varieties and colours of icing, and went to town.

Snowflakes, snowmen, trees, and presents all came to life as they did the sugar cookies. The shortbreads just got a fine layer of sprinkles. But the gingerbread people was where Julie went all out.

She held up her first one; in a sleeveless blue shirt, black pants and an orange cap with a few wisps of brown sticking out. “It’s Luke!” she proclaimed. “You wanna do one for Willie?”

Alex beamed and nodded, grabbing one of the girl figures that the skirt had been shaved down and went to town. Sure his design skills were a bit lacking, but it was a good enough cookie likeness for him.

From there, Julie did Reggie, Flynn, and Carrie cookies while Alex tackled her family ones. He was especially proud of the one for Victoria, as it was the neatest and he hoped his cookie did her proud. He also did a sneaky Julie cookie, grinning as he dusted the icing with purple sparkles.

“Here’s you,” Julie offered, handing him a cookie that did look like him, down to the pink shirt and fanny pack. He couldn’t help but smile at it, how lovingly done it was, but that was Julie, full of more love than she knew what to do with.

“Bet I’m delicious,” he commented wryly. “Thanks Jules.”

Julie leaned in, grabbing him in a fierce hug. “You are more than welcome. I wish you could get to enjoy them, so I really appreciate you helping me knowing you can’t.”

“I had fun too,” Alex said, squeezing her tight. “I only ever got to eat them on Christmas when I was a kid anyways, so it’s not such a big loss.”

“Hey guys,” Willie said, poofing into the kitchen, waving. Alex and Julie broke apart, grinning at him. “Oooh, cookies!” He snatched up a shortbread and took a large bite, moaning at the taste. “It’s delicious!” he said through the crumbs.

“Ummm… how can you eat outside the club?” Alex asked.

Willie shrugged. “Christmas magic?”

Alex picked up a sugar cookie and brought it to his mouth, gently nibbling on it. The flavour of it burst across his taste buds, and he beamed at Julie. “I can eat the cookies!” The two of them bounced up and down, then stopped so Alex could truly savour the taste.

“We’re not telling Luke and Reggie right?” Alex asked after he’d polished off a few select treats, Willie and Julie also helping themselves.

“Not if we want them to last until Christmas,” Julie replied with a wink and took another bite of her snickerdoodle. “But we’ll give them their gingerbread men later, and see what happens.”

“Ten bucks says they’ll be too terrified by the idea of eating themselves to even try,” Willie wagers. Alex agrees, but that doesn’t stop him from snagging a gingerbread star to sample, and dammit if tia isn’t right about her recipe being the one good gingerbread one.

He’s tempted to take a bit of his Alex cookie, but Willie beats him to the punch, scooping it up and devouring half of it in one bite. “Delicious!” he says with a wink and Alex is certain his face is as bright pink as his hoodie at that.

But he snags the Willie cookie and repeats the motion. He’s not sure what’s tastier; the cookie, or Willie’s expression.

[ducki3qua3k]

Chapter 2: The Spider...

A/N: Hey, it's been a while, hasn't it. I lowkey kinda forgot all about this, but I've come back now with a second chapter. I kinda was postponing this because I wanted to wait until hopefully the final chapter came out, but that probably won't be until a while so I might as well continue uploading chapters. I've also been thinking of uploading a few other stories I've written on here as well, but that'll be completely up to whether or not you guys would want that. Anyway, please enjoy!

I awoke with a mild migraine and sat up with a small groan. I staggered onto my feet and stared at my surroundings in awe. The elevator seemed to have crashed to the ground, ultimately crushing the Jumbo Josh beneath it.

I spotted my drone, which had managed to survive the crash and I quickly went over to retrieve my remote, but the antenna was dented, rendering it temporarily useless. I also noticed an orange key card lying next to Jumbo Josh and decided to pick that up as well.

I glanced in front of me to see an orange door. I quickly inserted my key card into the card reader, and the door, along with another one behind it, opened up. I entered a fairly dark room with walls that resembled apartment windows surrounding me. You found it hard to believe you were still in a kindergarten.

I found a pink key card not too far away from me with a note lying next to me. It read: 'This is it. The things we've done have finally come back to bite us. Everyone's gone, and the whispers from the abyss just keep getting louder. I think I even saw a face or two looking up at me. We were told everything that gets thrown into the abyss dies, but it appears we were tricked. If you're reading this, take my advice and leave. Everything here should be forgotten and erased from history.'

The note was quite ominous and you had no idea what it could be referring to. Faces in the abyss and whispering voices? The only part I fully could understand was the leaving part, and I was determined to get my son, and then I would hightail it out of here with him. I noticed another key card reader on a metal plate with arrows pointing on either side and inserted the pink key card I had found earlier.

It lit up green, before a platform rose from the dark abyss in front of me. It suddenly stopped and I pressed one of the arrows, which moved the platform over to an area called the 'comms sector.'

I walked through the doors, and the first thing I saw was writing on the wall, blocked by three flipped tables, that said, 'The spider is real.' I wasn't quite sure what spider it was talking about, so I brushed it off and climbed the nearby stairs. Once I reached the top, I saw the same writing, except this time it read, 'The spider is real, and it's coming.'

I started to become paranoid as it felt like my eyes were watching me, and I glanced around until my eyes landed on a strange blue figure hanging behind the door below me.

It had three eyes and a freakishly large mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, along with a party hat on its head. It kept its sharp gaze on me, before scurrying away. I felt goosebumps and chills all over my body as I took deep breaths to calm myself.

"What was that thing...?" I quietly mumbled to myself, before turning to the door in front of me and unlocking it with my pink key card.

The door creaked open slowly, revealing a dimly lit room that looked similar to a lobby. My heart raced as I stepped across the threshold, each footfall echoing ominously off the stark walls. My senses heightened, and I peered around, taking in the stark, sterile surroundings that felt so alien amidst the cheerful chaos I had once associated with a kindergarten. The walls were adorned with faded murals, their bright colors dulled by time, depicting cartoon characters with unsettling grins frozen in time.

As I ventured further in, an unexpected sound pierced the silence-a sharp, mechanical ding. A green light flickered to life on one of the security cameras mounted high above, and a sense of hope ignited within me. Perhaps I was not alone after all.

"Hey, you there! I can see you on the cameras," a voice crackled through the intercom, each syllable laden with an urgency that sent a jolt through me. "I am so happy to see you and I need your help with something."

The voice was distinctly male, resonating with a flat, monotonous tone that felt oddly out of place amid this nightmarish setting. Despite its lack of inflection, there was a palpable desperation woven into the fabric of his words. I instinctively looked around, half-expecting to see the source of the voice materialize before me, but the room remained empty, save for shadows that danced in the corners.

"Who are you?" I called out, my voice trembling, echoing back to me in the silence that followed.

"Wait...Can you hear me? Hello? Listen, if you can hear what I'm saying, wave at any cameras." They instructed me and I hesitantly waved at the camera.

"Oh, thank god. I am so glad you're here. I thought this was the end. I was looking around and walked into the security room, then the door closed behind me and I've been stuck here since. It needs a light blue key card to open, but I don't have it. I know why you're here and I can help you, but you've both got to me out of here. If I recall correctly, only maintenance workers held their light blue key card, so you're gonna have to go down to the maintenance room and look there. The door there is probably locked as well, and I can't open it from here, but I do have control over the break room door." The voice announced, and shortly after, there was a click and sliding sound.

"Here, I opened it for you. See if you can find anything useful in there." The voice then went silent, leaving me alone in this unknown place.

I glanced at the wall beside me with the words "meet the family" on the floor pointing towards it. I recognized most of the characters except for a large brown toad named Sheriff Toadster and a yellow snail called Slow Seliene.

However, you noticed another figure standing off to the side without a name. They looked awfully similar to the blue creature you saw in the hallway, which made you question why these characters weren't shown in the other murals in the kindergarten.

I went over to the break room and found the door was already open, probably due to the person on the camera. Inside were some hung-up birthday decorations and a cake lying on a counter.

I glanced over at a nearby table and noticed an antenna head, which I then used to replace the broken one on my remote.

I heard a familiar ding and walked back into the lobby to see my drone up and running again. I smiled to myself until a nearby camera activated, and the voice spoke again.

"Ah, the good old drones. I lost mine a couple of weeks ago. Maintenance workers used them for all sorts of things. Reaching high places, grabbing things that fell into the abyss, and even comfort. It's good that you have one. It might be useful in our little conundrum. Take a look around and see if you can figure out how to get into the maintenance room. I'm unsure if I can be of much help, but wave at the cameras if you need my insight." They instructed me and I nodded my head.

I saw a button on a wall and sent my drone over to press it, which resulted in some keypads lighting on some cubicles. I also noticed some instructions written on the same wall that read, "You're expected to punch in from lowest to greatest!" with a chart of listening names in different orders.

I tried my best to follow the order of the chart, starting from the blue and ending with the red, as I matched the order with the different colored cubicles.

It took me a while, but in the end, I managed to unlock a locker and retrieve a green key card. There was another ding and I heard the same voice from the camera ring out from above me.

"Sweet! Now we can go down to the maintenance room. Remember, you're looking for a light blue key card. Just... watch out for the spider. Good luck and thank you." They said before cutting communication. The spider. The ominous warnings from the walls played in my mind, and for a moment, I faltered, but quickly realized I wasn't doing this for myself but for my son.

I followed their directions and unlocked the maintenance door before heading down the stairs, which luckily weren't long. I unlocked another line green door and entered what looked like a large storage area.

Turning my attention to the floor, I noticed a series of blue and pink arrows painted haphazardly, their bright colors standing out starkly against the dull concrete. They beckoned me forward, hinting at a path I hoped would lead to safety-or at least deeper into this chaotic kindergarten where my son could still be found. With determination pushing me onward, I navigated through the maze of shelves that loomed around me like sentinels, their towering presence casting long shadows that danced on the walls.

Nearby, I noticed a set of stairs, their metal steps a dull gray under the flickering fluorescent lights. Without hesitation, I climbed the stairs two at a time, my pulse racing with each ascent. At the top, I was greeted by a small control panel featuring three buttons, one of which was encased in glass.

Glancing back over my shoulder, I sent my drone soaring into the air. It zipped through the air with a whirring hum and, in a swift motion, smashed against the glass. The sound of shattering glass echoed in the stillness, reverberating like a gunshot in the quiet of the kindergarten. I winced at the noise, but there was no time for hesitation.

I commanded the drone to press the three buttons in quick succession, the satisfying "ding" that followed felt like a victory, a small triumph in a place where fear loomed large. My heart lifted slightly, but the gnawing anxiety in my gut reminded me that I wasn't out of danger yet. I hurried back down the stairs, each step echoing with urgency, and as I reached the bottom, I found the earlier locked door now stood ajar.

Inside, I jumped and let out a strangled yelp as I spotted the spider right in front of me, but as I took a closer look I quickly realized it was just a mural of it with the words "boo" etched next to it. I rolled my eyes at the cheap scare and began searching the room for anything useful until I found a light blue keycard sitting in a corner.

Once I picked up the light blue key card, a sense of triumph washed over me, momentarily overshadowing the eerie atmosphere that surrounded me. The victory was short-lived, however, as an unsettling scurrying sound suddenly echoed around the room. My heart raced, and I instinctively glanced around in confusion, the hairs on my neck standing on end. I shook my head, trying to brush it off as nothing more than my mind playing tricks on me, a byproduct of the stress and fear that had clung to me like a second skin since entering this nightmarish kindergarten.

With a deep breath, I stepped out of the dimly lit room, clutching the key card tightly in my palm. Just as I began to walk away, I felt something wet and cold strike my forehead, sending an icy jolt of confusion and curiosity coursing through me. I paused, bewildered, glancing upward to discover the source of the unexpected sensation. What I saw next turned my blood to ice and sent a fresh wave of adrenaline surging through my veins.

There, clinging to the ceiling like a grotesque ornament, was the very same blue creature I had encountered in the stairwell. Its body contorted in unnatural angles, a jarring contrast to the cheerful cartoon character I had initially thought it to be. Its piercing gaze was locked on me, a predatory intensity that sent a shiver racing down my spine. The creature's mouth hung slightly ajar, revealing a set of sharp teeth glistening with a thin layer of saliva-whether from hunger or excitement, I couldn't tell.

A primal instinct kicked in; I felt the urge to flee, to turn and run from this unholy being. But I was rooted in place, unable to tear my eyes away from the creature. This wasn't just a figment of my imagination; it was a stark reminder of the twisted reality I found myself in. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, as the creature shifted slightly, its talons scraping against the surface of the ceiling, a sinister sound that echoed ominously in the confined space.

I took a shaky step backward, every instinct screaming at me to escape. The terrifying stillness of the storage area was abruptly shattered as the creature let out a low, guttural growl, a sound so deep it reverberated in my chest. It was a signal-a warning that I was no longer safe. I quickly turned and dashed back into the maze of shelves, my heart pounding fiercely as I fought to remember the path I had taken. The key card felt heavy in my hand, a tangible reminder of my quest, but at that moment, all I could focus on was the need to survive.

I then noticed a sign with the blue and pink arrows, showing the pink arrows mean to follow the opposite direction, while the blue arrow means to follow the direction it was pointing towards. I quickly followed them, turning left as a pink arrow on the floor pointed right. As I continued to run, I couldn't help to glance up occasionally just to see the spider like creature still on my tail, causing me to pick up my pace.

Once I saw the green door I had passed through earlier, a surge of adrenaline propelled me forward, my heart pounding in time with the frantic rhythm of my thoughts. The echo of my hurried footsteps filled the air as I dashed towards the door, my fingers trembling as they grasped the cold metal handle. With a final burst of energy, I threw myself through the threshold, barely managing to get the door closed behind me before it slammed shut with a resonating thud.

I leaned against the door, my breath coming in heavy gasps, trying to steady myself as my heart raced in my chest like a wild animal. The oppressive silence of the dimly lit storage area enveloped me, but it was soon shattered by the unmistakable sound of something massive hammering against the door I had just escaped. Each thud reverberated through my body, sending a fresh wave of panic coursing through my veins. I couldn't afford to let my guard down.

With my pulse roaring in my ears, I glanced back at the door, dread pooling in my stomach. I knew whatever that creature was, it was relentless. I had no time to spare. In a frantic scramble, I pushed myself off the door and stumbled toward the staircase that loomed invitingly ahead. Each step up felt like a climb into safety, and yet I could still hear the ominous pounding behind me, urging me to move faster.

As I stumbled back into the lobby, the chaos of the storage area slowly faded, replaced by the eerie stillness that filled the air. The fluorescent lights above flickered intermittently, casting disorienting shadows that danced across the walls, leaving me on edge. My heart raced, still echoing the frantic rhythm of my recent escape from the spider-like creature that had chased me through the twisting maze of shelves. I clutched the light blue key card tightly, my only semblance of safety amidst the madness.

With a deep breath, I approached the security door, steeling myself for whatever lay inside. My hand trembled as I swiped the key card across the reader, a soft beep signaling my passage. The door creaked open, revealing a sparsely furnished room that seemed to hold more secrets than comforts. A couple of boxes lay scattered in the corner, dust motes swirling in the dim light like spirits lost in time.

I stepped inside cautiously, my senses heightened, scanning the room for anything that might aid my quest to find Andy. In the center of the room stood a table, but what caught my attention was a crumpled note resting atop it. I approached it with hesitant curiosity, feeling an unsettling mix of hope and dread as I unfolded the paper.

"If you read this fast enough, you might be able to escape, but I'm going to hit you very, very hard :)." I read aloud, my voice barely above a whisper, confusion swirling in my mind.

Before I could fully comprehend the note, the rapid patter of footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder and closer. Panic surged through my veins, instinctively propelling me to dart for the exit. Just as I turned to flee, an overwhelming force collided with the back of my head. Pain erupted like a volcano, sharp and immediate, and my vision erupted into a kaleidoscope of dark spots.

I felt my body crumple to the ground, the cold tiles biting into my skin as darkness encroached upon my senses. As I lay there, disoriented and sprawled on the cold, hard floor, the world around me felt like it was spinning in a slow, nauseating dance. The dull throb in my head pulsed like a metronome, each heartbeat echoing in my ears as a grim reminder of the blow I had just taken.

Then, through the fog of confusion, I caught a glimpse of movement at the edge of my vision. I turned my head, and my breath hitched in my throat. There, framed in the doorway like some twisted puppet on a stage, stood BanBan.

He towered over me, his form exaggerated and cartoonish, a jarring contrast to the fear that gripped my heart. The red of his skin was vibrant and unsettling, shimmering under the dim light like a fresh coat of paint, while the party hats perched jauntily atop his head seemed to mock my situation with their cheerful colors. His grin was impossibly wide, stretching from ear to ear, his long tongue lolled out, and his eyes eerily wide as he gazed down upon me.

With a grunt, I scrambled to push myself off the ground, my palms scraping against the rough floor as I fought to regain my footing. Panic surged through me, igniting a primal instinct to flee, yet my body felt heavy and unresponsive. I felt like a deer caught in headlights, mesmerized by the grotesque creature before me.

"Three birds and one stone! I get all of your key cards, I get the perfect specimen, AND I don't have to deal with that thing down there. And it's all thanks to YOU!" He said, but I quickly recognized the voice to be the same one from the cameras. This whole time I thought I was talking to a human being, but in reality he had just used me to get what he wanted.

"Oh come on, I didn't hit you THAT hard. Or maybe I did. Either way, it's best you take a nap while I prepare for our little surgery." He told me. I wanted to question what he meant by surgery, but I ended up blackening out before I could.

[intheticklecloset]

A Trick For a Trick (A Haikyuu!! Halloween Special)

Written by me / Art by @skribblz

A/N: TADA!! We've done it again, but this time for Halloween! My good buddy skribblz and I thought it would be fun to collab again over the summer, but life kept happening (on my end at least), so we postponed it to be a Halloween thing instead. We wanted to focus on the girls for this one, and this is the result! LOOK HOW CUTE HER ART IS!! We hope you enjoy! Happy Halloween! ^^

Word Count: 2,448

~~~

“HALLOWEEEEEEN!” Hinata yelled at the top of his lungs, barreling through the doors of the spookily decorated gym dressed as a blue crayon of all things. Just a pace behind him came Kageyama, huffing and puffing and looking very much like he needed a drink, though Yachi thought to herself upon observing his vampire costume that she hoped he didn’t want blood.

“The chaos has arrived,” Kiyoko murmured pleasantly as she finished putting out the paper cups and plates and plastic utensils on the snacks table, all of which were various shades of orange, purple, black, and white to fit the theme of the evening.

Yachi smiled first at the two boys, then at her upperclassman, for whom she’d be taking over as team manager soon. “Things are sure to get pretty lively now that they’re here.”

“Honestly, I’m more surprised that Noya and Tanaka haven’t been hovering around us at all so far. It’s a little suspicious, really.” The taller girl surveyed the table, frowned, and then snapped her fingers. “Oh! We need napkins, especially for a group of teenage boys. There should be a few rolls of paper towels in the supply closet; could you get them, Yachi?”

“Of course,” the blonde replied, happy to be of use. She hurried toward the back of the gym where the supplies were kept, sliding open the door. The light from outside was enough to illuminate the interior while she searched, though for some reason the paper towels seemed to be the only thing she couldn’t find.

Just as her eyes landed on them – on the top shelf, of course – a shadow fell across her from behind and someone grabbed her shoulders, yelling right into her ear.

Yachi screamed and dropped to the ground, whirling around to see Noya standing over her in his samurai costume, looking surprised and amused and even a little guilty all at the same time.

“Sorry, Yachi,” he said with a tiny giggle, offering her a hand. “I just wanted to startle you; I didn’t think I’d scare you so bad.”

“W-Why would you do that?” she asked in a trembling voice, taking his hand and allowing him to pull her back to her feet. “That was so loud!”

Noya rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to really scare you. But I mean…you look kinda cute when you’re freaked out, you know?”

Yachi pressed her lips together and punched him before she could even think about it, surprising the both of them. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m sorry!” Noya laughed, rubbing his chest where she’d hit him. “What’re you doing in here, anyway? The party’s outside.”

“Kiyoko and I are still finishing setting up. I came in here for paper towels, but…” She looked up at the top shelf where they sat.

Noya followed her gaze. “You need help reaching them?”

She gave him an odd look. “No offense, Noya, but…you’re not much taller than me.”

“So? I’m a volleyball player. I can jump.” As if to prove his point, the libero leapt into the air, grabbed onto the top shelf, and grunted, “How many do you need?”

“Ah…four?” Yachi replied, then scrambled to catch them as he began to slide them off the shelf at her. When she had four in her arms, Noya landed back on the ground, flushed from exertion but beaming all the same. “T-Thank you, Noya.”

“Anytime. Now come on! Finish setting up so you can join the fun, Yachi!”

~

“I think that about does it,” Kiyoko said twenty minutes later, nodding in satisfaction at the hard work they’d done. The table looked great – very colorful and decorative for Halloween, with cobwebs and little plastic bats and spiders completing the look. There was everything from healthy snack foods to the typical candy one would usually have at this time of year, as well as a few different types of punch bowls.

“I’m surprised the boys haven’t tried getting into anything yet,” Yachi commented, glancing over her shoulder at the Karasuno volleyball club, who were deep in some kind of competition from the looks of things.

Kiyoko watched them, too, a fond gaze settling over her features. “For all of their antics, they do genuinely want to be helpful when they can, even if that means staying away for a while when I ask them to. You’d be surprised to learn how much they respect you already, let alone how much more when I’m gone next year.”

Yachi pressed her lips together. She didn’t want to think about next year, when she’d be all on her own.

All of a sudden she felt a light tickle along her neck, and Tanaka cried, “Look out, Yachi! There’s a spider on you!”

For the second time that night Yachi screamed, flailing and swatting at her neck to rid herself of the aforementioned creature. It took her a moment to realize Tanaka was bent over at the waist laughing.

“Ahahaha! Your face!” he teased, standing upright and holding one of the little spider decorations from the table up for her to see. “I was joking; it was just one of these. You’re good.”

“Tanaka,” Kiyoko scolded. “That was uncalled for. Yachi and I worked hard to get this party set up for you all, and this is how you thank her?”

Tanaka suddenly looked genuinely apologetic. Yachi scanned his costume. She vaguely recognized it as being a Marvel character of some kind, but she didn’t know which one exactly. She wasn’t into superheroes.

“I’m sorry,” he said now, drawing her attention back to him. “I was just trying to be funny.”

“What is it with you guys?” Yachi exclaimed, unable to help how her voice wavered a little. “First Noya, then you? I know this is a Halloween party, but I didn’t want to be scared to be here.”

Before anyone else could open his or her mouth, Hinata came barreling toward them, looking ridiculous but also super cute in his crayon costume. “Hey guys! Can we eat yet? Whoa, Yachi, why do you look like you’re about to cry? What’s wrong?”

Kiyoko sighed, adjusting her glasses. “Apparently Tanaka and Noya got it in their heads that it would be fun to scare Yachi. She’s a little shaken up.”

“Hey! That’s mean!” Hinata cried, whirling around to point an accusing finger at Tanaka. “Yachi’s a sensitive soul! You can’t do that to her! Remember how bad Kageyama and I freaked her out when we got into that big fight before?”

Tanaka was looking more and more chagrined as time went on. “I know, I know. I thought it would be funny, but it wasn’t. I’m really sorry, Yachi.”

Yachi hated all of this attention. She wanted it off of her as quickly as possible. So she nodded and said, “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

Kiyoko stepped forward and put an arm around her shoulders, giving the second-year boy a hard stare. “The food is ready for you guys to get into whenever you’d like. I’m going to take Yachi out for a little air. Do not make a mess of this gym.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tanaka replied quietly while Hinata whooped and hollered, “FOOD’S READY!!”

Before the rest of the Karasuno volleyball club could invade their space, Kiyoko steered Yachi away.

~

“I’m fine, really,” Yachi told her once they were safely sitting on the steps leading into the gym, the loud noises coming from within a comfort now that she wasn’t directly in the middle of it. “I just wasn’t expecting to be a target tonight. Maybe I should have known better.”

“They’d never dare do that to me. They shouldn’t have dared with you, either,” Kiyoko replied, frowning. “And after I’d just gotten done saying they respected you.”

“It’s because I’m not as tough as you are. They probably see me as fresh meat.”

“That’s not it.” The older girl gave her arm a reassuring squeeze. “They like you, and that’s what boys do when they like you. They pick on you. If you want to make sure it doesn’t become a regular thing, you’ll have to put your foot down. But once you do, they’ll back off. They’re good about that – well, most of them are.” She rolled her eyes, thinking of the two boys who had come after her mentee tonight. “But they mean well.”

Yachi worried her bottom lip between her teeth, mind racing. She wasn’t going to be able to put her foot down with these guys – there was no way. She wasn’t strong enough for that, and next year she’d have to do it all by herself, and—

“What do you want to do about it?” Kiyoko asked her.

Yachi blinked back to reality. “Huh?”

“Since the coaches aren’t here, we’re allowed to punish them for acting out if we feel it’s necessary.”

“Oh, no! I don’t want to do that – they’re just having fun, and I just don’t like being scared. I know they didn’t mean it—”

“Punishment doesn’t have to be harsh, you know.” Kiyoko’s smile had become a little playful. “You know how the boys go after each other for stuff, don’t you?”

Yachi’s eyes widened. She blushed. “Y-Yeah, but…I don’t think I can do that, either.”

“It’s whatever you want to do, if you want to do anything at all. Personally I think they deserve a good scolding, but you’re their new manager. You’ll have to decide how you want to handle these situations going forward. There will be plenty of them, trust me.”

The blonde considered this. She knew it was true, and though it only made her worry more, it also lit a fire in her knowing that she’d be the one in charge next year. She’d have to make decisions like this, and she might as well start now, while she still had a little guidance.

“What if…what if we asked the third-years to teach them a lesson?”

Kiyoko smiled. “You know Noya and Tanaka will be third-years next year.”

“Oh, right.” Yachi reconsidered. The more she thought about it, the more she realized maybe she did want to do something hands-on herself after all. “Then…what if we ask them to just…hold them for us?”

“While we dole out punishment?”

“Y-Yeah.”

Kiyoko looked both proud of her and eager to get started. “I think that can be arranged.”

“Would you…do it with me?”

“Absolutely I would.”

Yachi beamed. “Which one do you want?”

~

The night went on uninterrupted. The boys played games and had a costume contest and ate nearly everything on the table, which made cleanup a lot easier on the girls, so they weren’t complaining. They even put everything in the trash where it belonged. The gym looked as good as could be expected after ten teenage boys had torn through it for four hours.

But as the night wound down to a close and before anyone could go home, Kiyoko got their attention.

“This is the third-years’ last Halloween party,” she said, plowing forward before anyone could start to think too much about it, “which means next year at this time, Yachi will be the one in charge of making sure everything is put together for you. She worked hard tonight, but a couple of you decided to be jerks to her.” Here she made hard eye contact with Tanaka and Noya, who flinched. “We won’t tell the coaches and are willing to let it slide, on one condition that Yachi herself has decided.”

Everyone looked at the younger girl, who flushed under their attention. “I-If a couple of you wouldn’t mind holding them for us, Kiyoko and I would like to, uh…get a little revenge.” She hesitated a moment, then wiggled her fingers to get her point across.

For a moment there was total silence.

Then everyone was rushing to be the ones to grab Tanaka and Noya before they could make a break for it. Yachi was startled by their enthusiasm but also relieved and encouraged by it, and she and Kiyoko shared smiles with each other as the boys fought it out. In the end, Asahi had Noya easily restrained with his much bigger stature, and Kageyama and Daichi held Tanaka.

“W-We’re sorry, Yachi,” Noya said quickly, blushing furiously just knowing he was about to be at either her or Kiyoko’s mercy within seconds. “At least, I am. I wasn’t trying to scare you; I just wanted to make you jump a little.”

Yachi smiled at him as she approached. “I know. That’s why I’m letting Kiyoko have Tanaka. She’ll be meaner than I will.”

Tanaka sputtered apologies as well, but all of it was useless. Soon both he and Noya were laughing and struggling against their captors as the girls took out their tickly revenge on them, sharing secret smiles with each other as they did so.

“Remember,” Kiyoko said over the roar of their hysterics, “this was Yachi’s idea. She’s your manager now, not me. Treat her well and maybe you won’t suffer the same fate!”

“Yes, ma’am!” the rest of the boys chorused, all of them grinning at the scene before them and at the girls.

Yachi – for her part – felt a wave of affection crash over her, both from the boys to her and from her to them. Her fingers danced along Noya’s torso, drawing out screechy giggles from the libero while Tanaka laughed and pleaded for Kiyoko to stop beside her. The blonde let her victim go first, then hugged him when Asahi unhanded him.

“You know we got your back, right?” Noya said through residual giggles, flashing her a genuine smile. “We really like you, Yachi. I hope you know that.”

“I do,” she replied, reaching out to squeeze Kiyoko’s arm as a way to let her know she should probably let Tanaka free as well. She looked back at him and returned his smile. “I like you guys, too.”

Kiyoko stepped up beside her and gave her a little nudge. “Well done handling the situation, team manager.”

Yachi blushed and brushed her hair behind her ear, grinning first at her then at all of the boys. “Well, uh…Happy Halloween, everyone. Make sure you have everything you need before you go home.”

The boys chorused a combination of “yes ma’am” and “Happy Halloween!” back at her, and Yachi felt a rare moment of confidence that maybe she could do this. Maybe she could manage these boys once Kiyoko was gone.

Yes, she decided as she watched them all double-check that they’d cleaned up properly and had their coats and other items as she’d suggested before calling goodnight to her. I’ve got this.

[gamethesoldier]

-------------------------------- AFTERGRAVE LORE. Soul

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Question: Hello there!! i have question about you au--- About Noelle soul. Why do she have determination…? And Do you au have soul type…? Answer: Every Monster do have human traits in my au.

Every monster have a little tiny bit of human soul traits if not they will look like the picture shown   Before its change after the war (Undertale) “ Base on old data…” ------------------------------ Monster without human soul traits ------------------------------

------------------------------ Monster with human soul traits ---------------------------

--------------------------- And the reason why Noelle have determination trait because she is…awakened by getting torture to make her become alive by committing mass genocide…. ---------------------------

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So.. yeah----

Anyway lets go to next question about Soul type!!

there is a lot SO HERE:

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Human soul:

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Normal Human “Traitless” (LV 0):

Their soul are gray or don’t have color---

They can’t use magic or eat monster food

( It will become toxic to them

,

must

require magic to digest monster food )

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

Classic:

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

1. Red (Determination * )

2. Cyan (Patience)

3. Orange (Bravery)

4. Blue (Integrity)

5. Purple (Perseverance)

6. Green (Kindness)

 7. Yellow (Justice)

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

Monster Soul :

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

Every monster do have human traits inside of them but its just…too tiny

to awakened the human traits within the monster soul, an "event" must occur to trigger it.

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

Speical Soul Type:

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Boss Type: Some of the monster were born with a special soul like Asriel. His soul is rainbow-- its call “  King of all Monster “ They can spawn their special weapon like Asriel sword Ex: Chaos Saber, Chaos Buster Or Combat Magic. Etc.

Pure type: There is Some of The monster or human that are born with “ special talent ” like Sans Ex: Auto Dodge, Karma User, Auto block etc. Pure type: Have a very high DEF but very low ATK  (+ KR ) Pure type: doesn’t have mixed traits. Ex: Human don’t have monster traits and monster don’t human traits

Fused soul: A very rare chance that will happen to a human…. Ex: normal human soul (LV 1 ) That is full with hatred…

Empty Soul: Can’t use magic and is very weak.

Cracked soul: A soul damaged by using too much magic Fading soul: The next phase of the cracked soul. Soul will slowly begin to fade due to forced use of magic

Hollow Soul: The monster that is fully awakened by a traumatize experience They will become OVERPOWER  and can spawn any weapon as they desire…

Ex: Snowgrave sword ( Dark world weapon ) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ( Hope you enjoy it!! and Thank you for asking question about my au!! Im so glad of people asking it!! <3 ) (Oh and there is some..character of undertale at here in my au too lmao) (hahaha! frisk and chara) (Look like i spoiler too much-- haha-- and Aftergrave ep.5 will coming soon) ( Did i do something wrong---? my post got hidden on public )

[lyrabythelake]

Ghost Wind AU Part 3

I figured the LU Linktober prompt ‘Ghost’ would be a perfect opportunity to post the next of this AU (+ an extra sad autumn themed section at the end)

part 1 | part 2

“—and so I was trying to tell her, ‘Hey, Zelda, my loftwing’s missing,’ but when she’s in that kind of mood, there’s no stopping her, and she pushed me right off the edge! So, there I was, falling to my death, and…”

The Links have just woken up and the camp is filled with the sounds of light, early-morning chatter interspersed with the occasional sleepy grumble. The sky is already a cloudless blue, but a chilly wind signals that the last of summer has been and gone, the occasional orange leaf fluttering delicately to the ground. The fire crackles merrily as Wild finishes cooking breakfast and the others clatter around as they clear up camp for the day’s travel.

Sky sits with his back against a tree, whittling a block of wood that has not yet been formed enough to distinguish a shape. He blatantly ignores the early morning chaos and is the picture of calm, his voice a low rumble as he tells his story. Wind is listening with rapt attention, sitting cross-legged on the floor opposite with his elbow on his knees.

“Agh, it’s too early for your pining, Sky,” grumbles Legend from nearby, interrupting Sky’s flow. His hair is still sleep-mussed, and he is tiredly trying to stuff his blanket into his already bulging bag.

If there’s one thing to know about Legend, it’s that he’s not a morning person.

“I’m talking to Wind,” Sky replies defensively.

“He doesn’t want to hear about your infatuation for your Zelda.”

“Do too,” Wind counters.

“How do you know?” Sky asks. He looks put out and self-conscious, and Wind lets out a huff of annoyance. For someone generally so in tune with people’s feelings, Legend can be needlessly brash at times.

“Funny you say that, actually,” Legend replies with a sly smile, “Wind and I have been working on something.”

Wind perks up as Legend rummages through his bag before bringing out a large piece of rolled up paper. Sky approaches him curiously whilst Legend kneels down and unrolls it on the ground, smoothing it until it lies flat.

“What is it?” he asks, studying the numbers and letters spaced evenly throughout the paper in no discernible language. Wind notes that even if they had spelled something, Sky wouldn’t be able to read it anyway as his language uses a different script to the majority of the others, including Wind’s own.

“Ouija board,” Legend replies.

“Eh?”

“Ravio tried to sell me one once; it’s meant to help you contact spirits. It was a complete scam, of course, because the last thing you want to be doing when you come across the majority of ghosts in my world is inviting them to engage in small talk. But anyway, I remembered about it the other day and, give Rav credit where it’s due, I thought it would be a good way to speak to Wind.”

“So how does it work?”

“Watch,” Legend replies. He picks up a piece of dried leaf from the ground, courtesy of the steadily turning season, and drops it onto the middle of the page.

“Wind,” he begins, a dramatic flare to his voice that makes Wind want to roll his eyes, but clearly has Sky enthralled, “Do you enjoy listening to Sky drone on about his sickening love stories?”

Sky makes a faint wounded sound and Wind reaches out with a hand, putting all his focus onto the leaf. He still finds it difficult to move objects, even ones as small as this, though it usually gets easier once he’s started.

If he had to describe the feeling of moving solid objects as a ghost, Wind would liken it to trying to focus his vision on something while wearing his grandmother’s glasses, except with his hand rather than his eyes. It takes a lot of focus and leaves him with a headache more often than not, but once he gets the hang of it, it becomes a little easier.

It only takes him a couple of tries before the crisp, flaky texture of the leaf becomes apparent under his forefinger, and he smiles in triumph.

He slides the leaf across the paper to where Legend has written ‘YES’ in neat, bold ink. He pauses for a second before sliding it again towards the ‘D’ and then the ‘I’ and then gradually to ‘C, K, H, E, A, D’ before sliding it back to the middle and taking his finger away with a smirk.

Legend continues to stare at the page with a frown, even after the leaf stills.

“What did he say?” Sky asks curiously. Legend says nothing.

Sky smirks.

“He said yes, didn’t he?”

“Whatever,” mutters Legend, pushing himself to his feet. He brushes the leaf off the page and rolls it up again, stuffing it roughly back into his overflowing bag before stalking over to where Hyrule is conversing with Wild next to the fire.

Sky chuckles.

“Thanks, Wind.”

Wind smiles contentedly as Sky delves back into his story, the happy, rhythmic sounds of his knife against the block of wood lulling him to serenity.

 ________

 Wind pings a branch as they pass, the single leaf still clinging to its twig loosening and tumbling gracefully to the ground. The nine of them are silent as they walk through the mild woodland, though it is a comfortable, cosy silence of those who are content with the mere presence of one another. Wolfie walks beside him and Wind smiles at him every so often, just because he can.

Wind can’t smell much anymore, but he can imagine the distinct, spicy scent of rotting leaves and autumn air. He can almost feel the dry chill that bites noses and fingers and reddens the cheeks of the other Links.

Where spring is the beginning of life, autumn is the ending of things, and despite Wind’s lack of senses, he feels that same melancholy sweetness that comes with the ending of summer and winter looming menacingly on the horizon every year.

He’s never had any truly bitter feelings towards it, though.

“My Grandmother’s favourite season was autumn,” he tells the wolf who looks up at him for a moment to show he’s listening. His voice is the only sound among the crunching of leaves underfoot, yet the others have no way of listening.

“She always made me and Aryll pumpkin soup on the day we lit the hearth for the first time when the weather got cold. I would always have been out sailing for the day and I’d come home chilled to the bone, but that always warmed me up…”

He trails off as he thinks of those days and the true contentment that came with them. He had felt safe in that house with his family in a way he hadn’t since.

“I don’t really feel the cold anymore,” he muses aloud, “or warmth,” he adds.

Yes, autumn is a bittersweet season. More so these days, but it always has been, even when he was alive. Those many autumns alone had been tinged with more sadness and longing than most, but he supposes this one will be better.

Wolfie walks a little closer to him and Wind loses himself to his thoughts and the crunch, crunch of the others’ footsteps.

[omaano]

I guess you've already got a dozen of these BUT

💕 self-love time! talk about which ones of YOUR creations (edits, artworks, fanfics) you like the most then send to other creators to do the same 💕

That is a rather flattering assumption, my dear, but I believe I've proven to have a horrible track record in answering asks, and where is the fun in sending such nice asks to someone who will just hoard them and then feel too ashamed to answer months late? ^^; Anyway, thank you very much for this askl! ❤️ And while it is a bit mean to make me pick favourite(s) from my children, I'm only gonna pick one here (not even my biggest recent fave), because I want to talk about it and show off some details.

I thought about picking my recent cowboys DTIYS redraw, because that would illustrate pretty well the direction where my art inevitably seems to be going (and the one time where Cobb's face didn't fight me like it was his job - and returned to the old normal of Din giving me grief lol) BUT, then I remembered that I filled my (so far) last Desert Witch!Cobb AU drawing with quite a few details, and I want to show them off and talk about them a little. So here we go:

I wanted to showcase the colour palette I predominantly used in all my pieces for the Monster Mash drawings - I'll admit that I'm not very confident in my colours, so Procreate's feature of generating colour palettes for me from already existing photos is an absolute godsend, otherwise I'd be stuck with my purples and pink-oranges for eternity. I had to add the blue for a bit of contrast though, but by the third drawing I really enjoyed the warmth of these bright oranges and reddish browns. They added to a nice and cozy feeling while I was freezing and huddling close to my little electric heater.

Plus this is a good shot to point out all the shinies dangling from Cobb (he's now got a mythosaur pendant with dangling beads for the teeth(?)), and the tattoo on his arm I had an awful lot of fun with! Something's clicked in my brain and now it's permanently stuck on pairing Cobb with suns and moons imagery (mostly the moons, because A) Din is the one who is shiny and blinding and hurtful to look at when he's fully decked out in his armour, and B) I find the dichotomy of the deadly sharp points and curve of a crescent moon vs the gentle face of a full moon very fitting for our Marshal here). So he's got two crescent moons on the underside of his forearm and elbow, and a third one on the right side of his neck. And there is also a sun on the curve of his shoulder, behind the sharp-toothed skull (because I gave in and finally put a sun on him after you all somehow kept seeing it on him - although it still eludes me how you managed that ^^;). He had another one on his right shoulder as well, but well. Glass doesn't take all that well to tattooing, does it? He's also got a lot of swooping cloud and smoke shapes to match his eternally billowing robes and the sand-storms that hide in his pockets.

And now to the fun part of the chaos that the background was:

I really wanted to put an absolute mess of a workbench behind Cobb, and I tried my best to deliver it - then forgot to take into consideration how much of it he'd block out with his shoulders XD and so I filled it with books, datapads and candles, little notes and jars and vials and a real fancy scale that I tried to model after the krayt dragon. And then once I realized how many of those details got covered up, in my infinite wisdom I erased everything instead of just masking them out so that I wouldn't even be tempted to somehow work them back into the picture... so I had to take these snapshots from my process video (hence the poor screenshot quality, sorry ^^;) but this way you can also see how I used those box shapes to try and keep even the otherwise circular/organic shapes of the flowers and pots (and cauldrons omg, were those a struggle!) in perspective. I think that was a neat little trick.

It was really challenging, and I cursed myself a lot for the angle I picked for this picture, but in the end it was very rewarding to see that while I never thought I'd ever be able to pull off a detailed background, I still managed to do this here!

[13uswntimagines]

Family’s Hard (Kristie Mewis x Reader)

Request: part 2 of the fic with Kristie that you post today! Maybe something with the r and Kristie both getting call for the national camp and we see a bit of what happen at camp with mal. pt 2. Maybe with both the reader and Kristine on the USENT roster and the fallout with Amal because of the reader being there. part 2 of the reader and mal meet up again joined by the team

Pt. One 

You had never been more unhappy while staring at a plate full of pancakes in your entire existence. You loved your typical practice meal (and your girlfriend of almost a year’s hand on your thigh while you ate it), but you weren’t enjoying the disapproving glare you were getting from across the table. She had been like this the moment you stepped off the plane, and you feared she wouldn’t stop until camp was over. 

It wasn’t like you decided to sit at this table to annoy Mal. Kristie wanted to sit with Sam, and you weren’t about to brave the dining room all by your little lonesome (plus you liked the team's Tower of Power and enjoyed watching the siblings banter).

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, pushing your chocolate chip pancakes around the plate, and keeping your eyes trained on your fork. 

“You ok?” Your girlfriend asked, her lips caressing your ear. You didn’t miss the way your older sister's nose scrunched at the looseness between you and the older midfielder. 

“Just tired. The flight from Houston was super long,” You mumbled, shrugging lightly. 

“You sure?” Kristie nudged your cheek with her nose and squeezed your thigh. You had been jittery since you left your shared apartment in Houston to head for camp and no amount of reassuring from your girlfriend seemed to be helping. 

“Psh. The flight home from France was exhausting, and then we had to get ready for good morning America. That was crazy, right Sammy?” Mal said with a wicked smile, completely cutting you off. Your mouth clicked shut and Kristie squeezed your thigh again (her jaw working overtime to prevent the scathing comment from leaving the tip of her tongue). 

Mal had been impossible since you stepped foot into the hotel the USWNT had commandeered for camp. She had swung between outright bitchy and underhanded reminders of Jill's preference of her over you all day and Kristie was getting sick of it. Your shoulders slouched a little more with every remark, every jab clouding over a little bit more of your sunshine. 

“That was pretty crazy,” Sam nodded, watching you and her sister carefully. She was trying to run as much interference as she could, but it seemed your sister wanted to make you as uncomfortable as possible. Almost like she was trying to drive you off the team. 

“Definitely not as crazy as that party right after we won. I don’t think I’ve ever seen so much champagne in my entire life. Not even after we beat Texas,” Mal added, and you shivered at the memory, wilting under her glare. 

It was your freshman year (and coincidentally Mal’s senior year), and the first time the two of you had ever really played against each other. UCLA decimated your team and took over a frat house to celebrate. From what you heard, it was one of the biggest parties Texas A&M had ever seen. 

Kristie sighed, wrapping the arm that was on your leg around your back, rubbing soothing circles. You leaned into the touch, still playing with the food on your plate, trying to hold your tongue and not rise to Mal’s prodding. 

“From what I hear there was a lot of alcohol after Houston won the challenge cup,” Sam nodded, sharing a look with her sister and side-eyeing her friend. 

“That was just beer, Sammy. It wasn’t as classy because no one cares about an arbitrary chaos cup win, especially after we won the World Cup. It’s all about scale,” Mal continued, completely ignoring the glare Kristie had pointed at her, enjoying the way you were squirming in your chair. 

You shoved your plate away, giving up on eating. You didn’t want to be here. 

“I'm sure. I’m gonna go. The uniform staff wanted to see me anyway,” You mumbled, just loud enough for Kristie to hear you (or so you thought). 

Mal’s vicious smile grew. She just couldn’t seem to help herself when it came to you. You were always chasing after her, and this time she had done what you couldn’t. She wasn’t ready to give that up yet. 

“I’d tell you to switch names, but all I can suggest is to pick a number you can actually live up to,” She sneered. 

Your entire being froze and you blinked owlishly at your older sister (taking comfort in how Kristie's arm tightened around you). 13 had been your number since high school, but you knew that Alex was a vet and you weren’t stupid (or disrespectful) enough to even dream of trying to take it. You knew you would never be even close to the level of Alex Morgan. 

You had accepted that and Instead chosen a different number, one you were proud to wear. You had no control over the last name on your jersey (until Kristie and you decided you wanted to get married, if you wanted to get married, and that was still pretty far off). 

“Come on. They wanted to do a quick check-in with me too,” Kristie said, standing and dragging you with her out of the room, her eyes sending daggers towards your sister. She was done watching you collapse back into yourself. 

****

Sam stared at Mal’s Cheshire Cat grin, her mouth agape. She didn’t understand why your older sister was being like this, or how she could continue eating as though she didn’t just rip you apart. (And at this rate someone had to stop her before Kristie killed her). 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Sam said, leaning forward and resting both elbows on the table. 

Mal shrugged, taking another sip of her orange juice. “What? I’m just being realistic,”

If you didn’t want to hear stories about their triumph at the World Cup, or how awesome the party was afterward, you could just find yourself a new seat (and take your girlfriend with you- you always did have to outdo her). 

“You were a little harsh babe,” Rose said softly, patting the forward's hand. 

Sam scoffed loudly, shaking her head. “She practically crumbled under that last comment,”

It was painful to watch your shy bean self withdraw back into the shell her sister worked so hard to crack. Even if you had Kristie here to support you, she wasn’t sure how long you would last without bursting into tears or getting into a screaming match with your sister. You were under enough pressure as it was. 

“She’s just overly sensitive. If she wants to play in the big leagues she’s going to have to learn to stand up for herself,” Mal rolled her eyes. 

It was a going joke in your family that Mal got the brains and beauty, while you just got the leftover emotions. Ever since you were kids, she had been the extroverted one saving you from bullies and being the “good example” that her parents wanted her to be. But this was her thing, and she didn’t want you horning in on it. (It was also a slight protective instinct too. She would rather be the one giving you shit than the media. They were ruthless and you would probably never forgive her. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all.)

Sam sighed, taking in how Mal’s eyes tighten just a touch beneath her nonchalance. As much as she wanted to pretend she didn’t care about you, it was obvious that she did. The questions now were if she was willing to have a change of attitude and if she would even be able to repair the damage she had already done. 

“Just be careful with how far you push her, alright?” Sam said thoughtfully. 

Mal rolled her eyes again, any care she may have felt disappearing. “I know what I’m doing Sam,” 

“I really hope you do, because I remember what it was like to always be trying to live up to your older sister and how difficult that was. And Kristie knew when to cut me some slack,” Sam said, raising her eyebrow at the younger woman. 

She really hoped she could get through to her before Mal lost you, and Kristie kicked her head off. 

*****

You sighed into Kristie's lips, enjoying the way her hips pinned you to the wall and her tongue explored your mouth. You weren’t one for public displays of affection, but she had dragged you into an abandoned corner of the hotel after your sister's clear display of disdain. 

You guessed an upside to being at camp with Mal was your girlfriend's desire to cheer you up. You always responded better to physical contact (which was why Kristie used it to help you calm down all the time). 

You hummed as the hands under your shirt made their way up to cup your cheeks, her fingers tangling in the baby hairs at the back of your neck. She let the kiss continue for another minute, before pulling back, so her lips were just barely ghosting over your own and your foreheads were touching. 

You futilely tried to push off the wall and chase her lips, only for her to chuckle and pull back so you couldn’t reach, keeping you pinned with her hips. 

“Ah, no more kisses until you say it,” She mumbled, her breath fanning across your lips. 

You whined. You loved how supportive Kristie was, but you didn’t want to do this right now. You didn’t want to go through your normal reaffirmation routine. Not after the shots, Mal had taken at you. 

“But-“

Kristie chucked at the keening whine again, shaking her head (both at how adorable your pout was and because she was standing her ground). She learned a long time ago that the best way to stop your mental spiraling was for you to say how worth it you were. “No buts. To get what you want you gotta say it,” 

You huffed, I ally opening your eyes to look into Kristie’s determined blue. She raised her eyebrow at you. 

“I’m an amazing person, no matter what anyone says,” You mumbled, looking away from your girlfriend. She hummed, using her thumb to tilt your chin back up. 

“And?” She asked, a smile playing on her lips. Your pout deepened. You were set to start and Mal had made you feel bad about it. Now Kristie was trying to get you to admit that you deserved the opportunity. 

The two of you stared at each other for a long minute, and you debated in trying to get back to the kissing again, to not say the last part of your mantra. Kristie's thumb ran soothingly over your cheek as if she was reading your mind. “Come on babe,” she said softly. 

You bit your lip, finally giving in. “I shouldn’t feel guilty about opportunities I receive,”

“Good,” Kristie smiled, leaning back in to connect your lips. You smiled back into the kiss. Maybe things weren’t so bad if you got this treatment after your sister was mean to you, even if Kristie was trying to get you to finally confront her about her behavior. “And for the record, you can always say you’ll have a cooler last name later,” 

*****

This was getting out of hand. Very out of hand. You hit the ground again, your face scraping against the turf after another bad tackle. You groaned, pushing yourself up off the turf and brushing yourself off, ignoring the hand of the defender in front of you in favor of taking the hand your girlfriend offered. 

Kristie glared at the blond defender, very pissed off that she was pushing you so hard. “Fucking watch it Sonnett, another tackle like that and I’ll beat your ass myself,” Your girlfriend growled, brushing a stray piece of turf off your back. 

Emily shrugged, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. “Just trying to test the Rookie. Need to make sure she can handle a little pressure,” 

She liked you, but with the pressure, Mal was putting n you, she thought that they were all going to go hard. To show you exactly how difficult this game could be and how much you needed to work to be on their level. 

“I think Mal is doing enough of that on her own,” Kristie raised her eyebrow at the woman, still rubbing the turf off your back and cringing at the new burn. If this hadn’t been a teammate’s doing, she probably would have killed them by now. Ripped them limb from limb for touching you, but you didn’t need that. You needed her support and not her overprotectiveness. 

“She actually needs to be able to play against Canada,” Sam said, patting her back. Emily shook her head. Mal was right. She would rather be the one to go hard on you and prepare you than some random defender who didn’t care at all. 

As far as she was concerned, Mal’s plan was still in effect and you were going to have to pull some trick to get past her again. 

****

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Kristie threaded a ball through the gap between Becky and Julie, straight to you. You turned, taking advantage of the gap in the backline, dribbling across to try and get a clear shot. 

You didn’t see that gap collapsing. You didn’t see Emily and Midge racing towards you until it was too late. There was a loud crunch as you were caught between the two defenders, and tumbled to the ground. 

The reaction from the rest of the team was instant. Kristie raced over, followed closely by Sam. Both women kneeling down next to you, trying to get you to roll over. It seemed that another blue blur was already laying into the two defenders. 

“Lay the fuck off my sister,” Mal yelled, shoving Sonnett back from where her shifting form was standing over you. 

Emily held her hands up in defense, stumbling away from you. “I’m just trying to keep the intensity up, exactly like you are,” 

Mal growled audibly, stepping up to the taller defender and wrapping her fist into her shirt. “It’s different. She’s my sister and I’m the only one who gets to fuck with her. Got it,” she said her voice deadly calm. 

Emily nodded rapidly, her eyes wide as Mal straightened her shirt, patting her shoulder. Emily backed away slowly, her hands still extended, terrified that Mal (and your girlfriend) would decide to actually kill her. 

Mal nodded once the offending defenders were far enough away from you, before turning in your direction. 

You were finally on your feet, shifting awkwardly and rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Thanks,” You mumbled as she approached. 

She smiled, pulling you into a very strange hug.“You got it, kid. I love you, even if you’re not as good as me yet,”

She let you go and winked. You smiled and trotted off back to your position, warmth filling you. Sure you weren’t on the best terms, but you were sisters and the act was like a white flag. A truce. 

Kristie caught Mal’s arms as she passed. “Learn to lay off a little bit. I don’t want to have to hurt you,”

Mal nodded. You were family mad the only one who got to mess with you was her. She would kill anyone else who tried and she was glad you had gained two protectors. 

[gentlemancrow]

14: “I’m screwed” shippy JMart :) 💚

Ehehe this one got away from me a little bit! But ask for shippy Jmart get a gushy mooshy Crow! Please enjoy! ; w ;

“I’m screwed…”

Martin watched helplessly through the slats of the yellowed blinds on Jon’s office window as his entire life went up in flames. He dimly recalled some trite old saying about seeing one’s life flash before one’s eyes before the moment of unceremonious besmirching from the cruel mortal coil, but for him it was more of a hysterical repeated rewinding of every single bumbling misstep that had orchestrated his imminent demise.

From the moment he decided he had just enough time before work to pop into the Tesco for the usual bouquet of flowers for his visit to his mother later in the day, to the snap decision to get the one made of tulips, bright crimson, orange, and yellow like a flame, rather than the usual white lilies, all the way up to entering the institute, Elias stuffing a file for Jon in his already laden arms, and then the chaos that had erupted as he attempted to deliver it, he lived it all over again. First there was something about the kettle being on the fritz, and obviously since he used it the most frequently, clearly he knew how to repair errant electronic kitchen devices. He was halfway through chastising Tim for false equivalencies in his logic when Sasha had breezed past and asked for a report he’d supposed to be finished with the day prior, and somewhere in the snarking with Tim and the flailing over his dereliction of duty the flowers had been abandoned on Jon’s desk and the file tucked under his arm instead.

By the time Martin realized he was missing something bulky and crinkly and fragrant it was too late. Jon was already in his office, tatty messenger bag still looped around his chest, forgotten, staring at the fiery bouquet on his desk with the scientific method scrolling visibly through his pupils as he regarded it like a corpse on an autopsy table, hand in a fist with his thumb pressed to his lips. Martin had never wished harder for some sort of horrific creature of the darkness to strike the institute again and just devour him whole this time to put him out of his misery.

“You’re what, mate?” Tim’s adjacent query only intensified that desire.

“Tim! SHUSH!” he squeaked, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and hauling him out of the line of sight from the office window.

“Easy there, big guy!” he laughed, “What’s all the hullabaloo?”

“I’m SCREWED. Big time,” Martin moaned, burying his face, which had been bright scarlet since the moment his hubris had roosted, into his hands, “See those flowers in there? I bought those for my usual trip to see my mum this afternoon but somehow between you being an idiot and me also being an idiot and forgetting to finish that report I sort of… left them there… by accident…”

Jon, meanwhile, had finally set his bag down and had circled his desk like a vulture. He reached out with delicate fingers like forceps and pinched the very edge of the card to inspect it, which, unfortunately, only added to the mystery with its coquettish blankness, as Martin had yet to fill it in. Tim watched, nonplussed.

“So? What’s the big deal about that? Just go explain it to him and I’m sure he… Oh. OH,” he cackled as realization dawned on him, “Yeah, nope you’re screwed.”

“Thanks…”

“Ahh, don’t sweat it. The man’s so thick I’m sure he thinks it’s just a prank or some continued spooky attempt on his life or something. The absolute last thing he would think would be that you of all people would…” Tim stopped himself in the withering blue glare blazing at him from behind round spectacles, “Anyway, again, this is Jon we’re talking about. He’ll just treat it like some weird cosmic mystery until he burns himself out on it or the next one shows up.”

“Y-Yeah but-“

“Just go explain! Unless you want to watch him wriggle about it like a fish on a hook all day. Which I am diametrically unopposed to, by the way, sounds absolutely hilarious.”

Martin winced, hating the idea of being the missing chunk of code that caused Jon’s brain to glitch for the remainder of the day, and sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“No, no you’re right,” he sighed, “Just… no flowers at my funeral if he kills me, okay?”

“Kate Bush songs only, got it, yep.”

Martin rolled his eyes, not dignifying that with a response, and shuffled on mechanical feet to the closed door of Jon’s office. He rapped lightly a few times before pushing his way in, smiling sheepishly at the head archivist who had clearly just unceremoniously flung himself in front of the mysterious bouquet to hide it from view.

“Martin!” he barked, “What in the hell are you-“

“Uh, just needed to talk to you for a second.”

He closed the door behind him

“Oh, uh… about wh-“

“About those, actually,” Martin confessed through his teeth, pointing, mortified, at the coy spray of flaming tulips peeking out from behind Jon’s hip.

He whipped around to look at them, then back to his assistant, then back to the flowers again, the blush that only ever seemed to find the tips of his ears glowing like two carmine rosebuds there.

“…You?”

That unreadable earthy brown gaze, somewhere between wilting regency heroine and venomous snake ready to strike with fangs bared, harpooned Martin directly to the heart.

“No! God no! S-Sorry!” he yelped, flailing his hands defensively in the air, “I-I mean they are mine, yes, b-but I-! Th-They’re for my mum! I-I try to visit her in her care home if I can on Fridays, and I always bring her some flowers! I was supposed to be dropping off a file for you, but then Tim was hounding me about the broken kettle and Sasha needed that damned report and I was all mixed up and I… I forgot them here. On your desk. Your desk of all places. I still have the file and um… T-Trade you? Hah…”

Jon’s finely sculpted brow shifted from pinched, to bemused, to a strange, sorrowful relief as Martin finished lamely in falsetto and he chuckled under his breath.

“Ah… right. Right! I thought for a second someone might have um…” he snorted breathlessly, “Hah, I knew that was a preposterous notion.”

The metaphysical harpoon still in Martin’s chest shattered in icy shards of anguish as his heart collapsed under the weight of itself.

“Wh- Jon, is it really that preposterous a notion someone might want to bring you flowers?” he asked, crushed.

Jon flourished a flippant, elegant hand.

“Come on Martin, this is me we’re talking about. I’ve never gotten flowers once in my life. I’m not the kind of person people think to buy flowers for. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well then let me be the first!” Martin insisted, his mouth and heart moving in tandem before his brain could stop them.

Jon’s brow creased again.

“What? Good lord no, I’m not going to take the flowers you bought for your mother. Who is also in a care home, mind.”

“I’d much rather give them to you.”

The skeptical expression marring Jon’s face did little to hide the blush flourishing at the tips of his ears again.

“Look. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Martin elaborated shyly, “Friends can send each other flowers. And honestly? My mum doesn’t even like them… no matter what kind I bring. They usually end up being for her nurse instead. So I… I think they’ll have a much better home with you.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Jon’s mouth, snipping an invisible thread that softened his entire face into something innocent and full of wonder.

“I see. If you’re sure, I suppose I could…”

“I’m very sure,” Martin replied without hesitation, “Just tell people an old friend sent them out of the blue, or you have a secret admirer or something!”

“Well I don’t know about all that, but-” Jon chuckled, smiling softly, “Thank you. Just the same.”

Martin looked up, just for a moment, and met Jon’s gaze, letting the piercing erudite wood of it lay bare his fluttering heart.

“You’re welcome…”

Jon shifted in the beat of ensuing silence, his eyes flicking away from sky blue radiance to shift his shoulders back into a professional square.

“You uh, said you had a file for me?”

“Oh! Yes! Right! I-I will go fetch that file for you indeed and uh-! Oh yeah! Make sure you snip off the ends of the stems a bit before you put them in water. Helps them last longer,” Martin offered, snapping out of his enchantment and already slinking backwards to the door, “Oh and also! When they start to go, I’ll show you how to press one in a book, so you can keep it, if you like!”

“I’d like that very much, actually.”

Martin smiled, nodded, and saluted awkwardly as he escaped Jon’s office and closed the door behind, leaving him in private to wait until he was sure no one would see. Once he was certain, he preciously gathered the tulips into his hands and brought them to his nose, breathing in the field bright scent of his very first bouquet from a secret admirer.