#as if that means anything. Do we have conflict tomorrow that is the real question

[mickedy]

like and share for more conflict

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[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

[3] Career Fair

Summary: James holds a parents' career fair, to which Liam's mom is invited.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!reader, mom!reader x son!OC (Liam), inspired by this post by @ravishinglavishingluvr. Hah, remember last time where I said I was updating semi-regularly? Ok well I actually mean it now, I promise lmao. Not edited but I'll do that tomorrow. Also kinda short, sorry

A/N (1/8/2024): okok I came back here to change the names of some kids bc I forgot that this is a marauders au so I can use the names of like real kids from harry potter smhhhhh please don't get mad at me this is my first time writing an au

Previous Part: Seeing Each Other Around Town Next Part: Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift Series Masterlist here

James ended up pushing the career fair back a couple weeks because there was a conflict in the schedule

(not because you emailed him back saying you wouldn’t be able to come the day he had originally planned it)

(and definitely not because he asked you to send him your shift schedule so he could make sure you could come, and you were working overtime for two weeks straight)

(James was pretty sure your work schedule violated some labor laws or something, but he was in no place to question you)

Liam is soooo excited for the couple days leading up to the career fair

Because his mom is cool af and he can’t wait to show everybody just how badass you are

(You had Liam pretty young, so you’re totally the parent who all the kids think is the coolest person alive and who all the kids’ older siblings have crushes on and who all the kids’ parents judge because of your age and assume you’re irresponsible, but we don’t have to talk about that)

James is also excited because he hasn’t had a real conversation with you in a couple weeks and he really just wants to talk to you

Poor Sirius and Remus have had to deal with him swooning and fawning and over you and also helping him frantically prepare for this career fair because “guys it HAS to be perfect”

But at long last, the day finally arrives

James scheduled the career fair in the afternoon so he could threaten children with canceling the event if they misbehave, so both he and his kids are bouncing off the walls in excitement all morning

He eats lunch in the library with Remus and Sirius, and they both spend the entire time hyping him up

(It’s mostly Sirius tho)

“You’ve got this, Prongs—be smooth—be nice—you’re a nice bloke, that’s not gonna be a problem for you—”

And eventually, it’s time

The parents that are participating in the fair arrive ten minutes before James has to get the kids from the cafeteria so he can explain to them what’s going to happen (because god knows the majority didn’t read the goddamn email he sent)

You’re a little late (profusely apologizing again, and it reminds James of the first time you met back at parent-teacher conferences) but you read the email the night before (and take another piece of James’ heart hostage while you’re at it) so it’s no worries

James’ summary instructions take a shorter amount of time than expected, so the ten or so parents all get to talking

And ofc James takes this opportunity to talk to you

You’d emailed back and forth about the fair but you hadn’t really talked in person since that night in the grocery store, and James was starting to feel like he’d die if he went another day without talking to you

So he’s plotting his route to you across the classroom when he notices you’ve secluded yourself a few steps away from the majority of the parents’ conversation

James is also horrified to discover you look slightly uncomfortable

Like you’re somewhere you don’t belong

And of course James can’t have that

So he sidles up next to you and asks how your day is going, if your boss gave you a hard time getting off work early, how the chocolate chip cookie dough from a month and a half ago was—anything he can think of, really

By the time James has to go get the kids from the cafeteria, you’re smiling and laughing, and James desperately wants to keep you like that all the time

He shakes himself out of his daydreamy state on the way to the cafeteria because this is your JOB, James, you can’t be distracted by your favorite student’s mom. His sweet, kind, whip-smart, dazzling … mom …

(In the back of his mind, James knows he’s screwed, he just has no idea what to do about it)

(CERTAINLY not act on it, because that would be a complete conflict of interest and totally unprofessional of him)

(But it’s just a crush)

(It’s fine)

(Right?)

ANYWAY

Liam’s on the lookout for you as soon as he steps through the door, and he beams the sweetest little chubby-cheeked smile when he finds you and points you out to his friends

You wink playfully at him, and he and his friends giggle excitedly as they sit in their seats

If James is being completely honest with himself, the career fair was a little disappointing

The majority of the parents’ presentations were kinda lame

And they didn’t make their jobs understandable or appealing for the kids

Dean's mom (she’s regional manager of a popular grocery store chain) complained to the class about her boss pretty much the whole time

Luna’s father, a rather eccentric professor at the local university, just spewed a bunch of nonsense technical jargon about the soul or the meaning of life or something that not even the adults in the room could understand

And Draco's dad (he owns the local insurance company and is just obscenely wealthy, which explains quite a bit of his son's attitude) straight up said he hated his job, so there’s that

But then there was your presentation

James is sure he’s in love by now because you made being a nurse sound so amazing

You talked about how you’re in charge of taking care of people when they’re sick or hurt, how it’s nice to be able to help people, how even when your job gets hard, you feel like you’ve made a positive impact at the end of the day

Once the parents left, James asked the kids who’s presentation they liked the most

And ofc every kid in that room agreed that yours was the best

And a solid 75% said they wanted to be a nurse lmao and he was just so proud

Proud of his kids and also you because your presentation was just so fucking good

As James is taking the kids out to the buses, Liam thanks him for inviting you to the career fair

Ofc James says it was no problem and that you’re really cool, so it was a pleasure to have you there

And Liam kinda gives James this … look … and is like “… yeah, my mom is cool …”

And James gets this horrible feeling that Liam somehow knows

Knows he’s completely smitten for Liam’s mom

Fallen head over heels

Practically in love at this point (though James has a nasty habit of throwing that word around willy-nilly)

(Liam kinda freaks James out a bit sometimes lmao)

Next Part: Liam and James Make You A Birthday Gift

[16ruedelaverrerie]

Rest of messages in thread not included for reasons of mortifying inadequacy on my part! Anon you sent this in on August 22. I just want to type that out loud so that I can nail my shame to my front door like Martin Luther with his 95 Theses, except every thesis is "Nat can't fucking answer a single thing in an even vaguely timely manner". I would say I'm sorry for what I have become, but the truth is that I was ever thus. I'm sorry for what I have always been.

I'm sorry as well that it is so hard to find me across platforms because I have a thousand different usernames! Some of it used to be intentional, but intent or none, it functions as a real pain in the ass and I apologize. I've been trying to address this issue via the sidebar link on this blog and the cross-platform links in the author's notes on AO3, but we could have avoided all this if I had just stuck to a single identifying name. Still, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS TO THE CONTRARY, I'm so glad that you found me! Not least because it has led to you sending this absolute conflict-free lab-grown diamond necklace of messages! Thank you so so so much 😭💕 It's hard for me to explain this in a sensible manner, but my slowness in answering genuinely is in large part because the message means so much to me. I want to save the act of answering for a moment when I can feel articulate enough to do some justice to the kindness you have shown me, but then it's 10PM every night when I finish writing work emails and I am incapable of stringing two words together. Tomorrow, I think, I will try again! And then it's another 10PM and another 10PM and more than two months goes by before I have to accept that I will never feel articulate enough to respond the way that you deserve. That would be true at any other time of day, besides!

But thank you. I hope that you can stick around for the frustratingly glacial pace at which I do anything at all; what I lack in output, I make up for in stubbornness. One day, 88 will be a complete fic, even if I have to break my own bones to do it. (Please don't ask me the perfectly legitimate question of why broken bones would facilitate fic writing. It is a statement about the strength of my resolution, but it is an incomprehensible statement.)

This is such an interesting question! HOW DID I? I'm combing through my (admittedly blurry) autobiographical memories, but I can't seem to find a particular originary point for reading. Saying "I've always been a reader" is so boring, and it implies a certain kind of relationship with literature that I don't think I actually have-- I didn't particularly gravitate towards reading at the expense of other activities, and I read such a hodgepodge mixture of stuff that I can't fathom what it was about the act of reading that I actually enjoyed. And now, well, I read almost exclusively for work, to the degree that the thought of reading for pleasure makes me recoil.

The writing, I do have an originary point for. I was in elementary school, and my class had recently held a small creative writing competition; we were at an age where it was embarrassing to try very hard to achieve anything, so I blew it off, because I had to perform coolness due to it not coming naturally to me. Our homeroom teacher announced the winner, and asked that they read out loud their winning entry for the rest of the class. They did, and I remember thinking very clearly: This is fine, but I could do it better if I tried.

This is a story that is immensely unflattering to me-- or rather, it's a devastatingly accurate portrayal of me. It contains all the seeds of my worst qualities as a writer and a human being: competitiveness in something I consider myself to be proficient at, the need for external validation, baseless arrogance. But when I found myself being so hideously jealous of that kid, it wasn't primarily jealousy over the fact that they had won something; I was jealous that they had this stage time to show people what the world looked like to them. I felt robbed of the chance to connect with people in that way. Of course, no one robbed me of anything -- I chose to pretend that I was too cool for school -- and there was absolutely no reason to think that I would have won the competition and gotten that stage time for myself, even if I had tried as hard as I could. But still, it got me writing. Not because I had anything to say, but because whatever banal cut-rate shit I would end up saying, I just wanted someone else to hear it and tell me that I made sense to them. That's still why I do it, I think.

Seeing as how my twitter is just my tumblr with 100% less overwrought rambling, I can't decide whether you had a worse experience or a better one than binging this blog instead! On the one hand, I can't recommend the overwrought rambling; on the other hand, what's left after the overwrought rambling is excised is still just a lot of mid art determined to insist that dick jokes comprise an entire genre of creative output. IT'S DISMAL EITHER WAY! But it's too late for you! (Thank you.)

Anon!!!!! The very FACT THAT YOU SENT ME A ONE PIECE MESSAGE!!! My past in One Piece fandom is a really deep cut in that it very rarely comes up on this blog, so I'm super pleased that you thought of me!!!!!!!!!! 💖

Tragically, I have still not watched it. I KNOW, PLEASE DON'T THROW ME OUT OF THIS PORTHOLE. I agree wholeheartedly with you-- I'm thrilled that it got new fans into OP, and that it was made with so much visible love! I wouldn't say that I'm someone who is ever looking for live action versions of stuff -- if push came to shove, I'd probably admit that I don't necessarily see the inherent appeal of live action adaptations -- but it makes me truly happy to hear all the enthusiasm and praise for this one!!! Me not watching it yet mostly has to do with the aforementioned "it's 10PM when I finish writing work emails" problem.

As someone who is unfortunately very well-acquainted with what I am into (or so I must presume, by the sheer miracle of you sending me an OP message), it probably comes as no surprise to you that the single most affecting piece of promotional media that I encountered was a teaser clip from the Baratie arc. Anon when I tell you THE BREATH CAUGHT IN MY THROAT. THE BARATIE SHOT LIKE A RESTAURANT SHOW!!!! THE BARATIE!!!!!!!! WHERE MY SON WAS RAISED! HIS FISH-HEADED NURSERY! MY SON! THE DARLING OF THE BARATIE! A KITCHEN PACKED TO THE GILLS WITH SHORT TEMPERS! THE THORN IN THEIR SIDE! THE APPLE OF THEIR EYE! CRADLED TO SLEEP BY THE WATERS THAT TOOK HIM IN! GENTLED TO WARMTH BY A COMMERCIAL GAS RANGE! THE BRINE-SWEET CHILDHOOD HOME OF MY SON!!!!!

One Piece was so early for me that I can't even distinguish what came first, my Sanji bias or my commercial kitchen obsession. What remains crystal clear is that I am predictable in my perversions. I will watch it, anon. Someday hopefully soon.

[eliteprepsat]

You should be thinking about your college application essays now. Like, right now.

No pressure—think of it more like an invitation.

Why start now? Because whether you know it or not, you’ve already started writing those essays.

That might seem like a strange idea. Let me explain:

Your college application essays will ask you to tell a story (or stories) about your life. Many students struggle to find an angle worth developing in their essays. I’ve heard a number of students say something to the effect of, “I don’t think there’s anything interesting about me, so what can I write about?”

But that’s never true: everyone has a compelling story to tell. The issue is not that high school students don’t have meaningful life experience, as many adults might think. It’s that most teenagers have not yet figured out how to view their experiences as meaningful.

So, when I say it’s never too early to begin thinking about your college application essays, what I really mean is: you should start thinking about how to tell a story out of your day-to-day life.

Or, better yet, you should start thinking about how to make your day-to-day life worthy of a story. In order to do that, you have to fill your days with meaning.

What are you doing right now, or tomorrow, or this weekend that will help you create a compelling story about yourself? Think about the next few months or the next few years as a chapter in a book. What actions can you take to create an inspiring beginning, middle, and end?

No matter what you think about your day-to-day life right now, you can do this. In fact, you can do it really, really well.

Consider how you would answer the third Personal Insight Question from the University of California:

WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IS YOUR GREATEST TALENT OR SKILL? HOW HAVE YOU DEVELOPED AND DEMONSTRATED THAT TALENT OVER TIME?

I had one student a couple years ago who was really struggling to pick the right PIQs (if you’re applying to UC schools, you’ll need to complete 4 of the 8 options). Over the course of several weeks, we spoke for hours about his interests, hobbies, future goals, family life, extracurricular activities—nearly everything under the sun.

When we got to this question, I asked him if he had any special talents.

His answer? Blowing bubbles.

Not with bubble gum. Not with those bubble toys for kids. His talent was blowing bubbles with his very own saliva.

Yuck. Obviously, he couldn’t write about that—or so he thought.

We talked about how he started blowing bubbles, if there were patterns to when he blew bubbles, and how people in his life reacted to his bubbles. This is where a story started to emerge. He had real, convincing accounts of how this seemingly silly (and pretty gross) habit made people laugh and deflated conflicts.

His response to this PIQ was probably his best because it was filled with details about using this seemingly meaningless talent to help others. It was funny, it was relatable, it was detailed, and it was really, really compelling.

When this student blew bubbles, he was unwittingly writing his college application essays. It took time, creativity, and serious reflection to craft a narrative out of those bubbles, but he did it.

What will make your job easier is developing meaningful habits today. Start by reading some of these personal statements, which are filled with beautiful insights and turns of phrase that might help you when you sit down to write.

And then, get working toward—and thinking about—how to craft your own story.

[windingway]

I'm really interested in this question but I'm not sure if I know how to answer it, because it changes/has changed over time. (Still gonna try and see if anything coherent can come up.)

We are currently in a state of more overlap between parts - it's not as dissociated as it has been at other times, but we can still track some thoughts/reactions as being tied to specific alters, if that makes sense.

Most tasks are planned on a limited time schedule - we might have more overarching longstanding goals like "improve functionality between parts" which gets subdivided into smaller tasks as we work through it, but any "real world" actions (or planning) feel incredibly unreal until it's much closer to the date.

Ex. Even when things were very stressful internally and there was a lot of inner conflict to process and work through, we still had faith it was gonna work out, even if we didn't know all the exact steps right away.

But even just saying "yeah, i should have a shower tomorrow" feels like. "Nah. Tomorrow doesn't exist until it shows up." And depending on what alter(s) are around, it can be difficult to actually enforce follow-through without going into fear responses and immense self-criticism... which functionally means we just seem to Blue Screen (and do not much of anything) 😑

I'm hoping that as we continue showing up for each other that our executive functioning skills will continue to improve. It helps, as well, that we have a supportive environment which offers encouragement for tasks, is open to feedback from me, and also doesn't really shame me, like, ever? (It took years for me to trust that that was even the case...)

Okay so I have known this, but it came up on my feed again so Im once again bewildered by this.

People with an inability / difficulty planning in the future and imagining themselves in the future (executive dysfunction, ADHDers, etc) - how do you... operate in a day to day? How do you start actions? How do you like... go about your life and things you want to do? How do you... do?

I imagine that this is part of executive dysfunction for a lot of people and that I do understand cause I get it episodically

But as someone who has an unironic 20+ year plan and lives "in the future" to an unhealthy degree, its baffling and beyond my understanding to have a limited ability to do so.

I could also ask the one or two parts that tend to front when our executive function is shot cause in the past they used to have that as well, but Im really curious what people outside of my brain have to say on this.

Id be more than willing to answer questions as the opposite extreme. I just like to compare and contrast seemingly opposite extremes of experiences

Anyone is encouraged to welcome to respond and bring in any thing they feel is relevant to the topic at hand.

[husbandhannie]

hang up

pairing: scoups x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 685

warnings: none, really. catching feelings and all that.

a/n: fluff nonsense? fluff nonsense. just writing this to escape real life for a bit (not that things have been bad, just a little intense today). not proofread, never expect me to proofread.

taglist: @itsveronicaxxx @junhui-recs @leejungchans

“no, you hang up first”

you chuckle at seungcheol’s retort, the giddy sound matching your boyfriend’s giggle. a few months ago, you wouldn’t have believed that you’d be playing the disgustingly cheesy you-hang-up-game with someone, but things change when you have someone you love. 

love. the realization that you were in love with your boyfriend hit you a few days ago, when you found yourself smiling at the memory of your first date with seungcheol. a few trips down memory lane and some much-needed introspection later, you had reached to the rather unsurprising conclusion: you’re in love with your choi seungcheol.

that left with you with two conflicting options: to tell him that very moment, or to wait and find an appropriate time, hoping that he’ll reciprocate your feelings. 

you’re pretty sure he’s atleast a little in love with you, with the way he calls you every night he’s away, and the way he steals your jackets because he feels “yours” while wearing them, or how he tries to make it to your flat every night so he can hold you while you sleep - yeah, he’s probably a little in love with you. 

you just hope it’s more than just a little, because you’re certain you’re totally, devastatingly in love with him. 

you decided to wait until he came back from tour next week to confess your feelings, since that’ll give you the time to plan the evening out and give you the opportunity to see his face when you utter the words. long live telephonic communication and all, but some things have to be done face-to-face.

“babe?”, he stretches out the word ever-so-gently, “still there?”

“yeah, still here”, you respond, blinking your thoughts away, “drifted away for a second, sorry”.

“it’s okay”, he chuckles, “been a long day, mm?”

“yeah, kinda. but probably doesn’t compare to giving a sold-out concert”.

“hey, that’s not fair. work is work, and -”, a yawn cuts off his statement, and you can’t help but snicker.

“and you were saying?”, you prompt, a grin audible in your voice. 

“that we’re both tired”, he sulks, “and we should both sleep”.

“alright”, you agree, “talk to you tomorrow?”

“mm. i’ll call you when i wake up”, his voice softens a to a murmur, “goodnight, i miss you”.

“miss you too, cheol”, you whisper, “love you, bye”.

then you hang up.

there’s a second of silence before it hits you, and you let out an involuntary curse while you realize. 

“love you”? love you?

weren’t you going to wait until he was back to tell him? whatever happened to that very sound plan?

maybe he didn’t hear it. maybe he didn’t perceive it. that’s possible, isn’t it? the phrase is so common and seungcheol has so many people who love him so it’s possible that he didn’t make anything of it, so -

the phone buzzes. it’s seungcheol. 

you’re unable to move for a few seconds, stuck in the dilemma of whether or not to pick up the phone. if you do, what do you say? say it slipped out? pretend you didn’t say it? say - 

you take a look at your phone and are greeted by seungcheol holding a chestnut plushy, snuggled into your bed, wearing your jacket. the contact picture makes the decision for you, and you pick up the the call before you can overthink yourself into inaction. 

“hey”, he greets softly, “so”.

“so?”, you respond tentatively.

“did you mean it?”

there’s a vulnerability in his voice that you don’t get to hear often. 

did you mean it? yes, you did. maybe if you weren’t so in love with him, you would make him spell out the full question, to try to get out of answering it. but you wouldn’t do it to him, not to seungcheol. 

“yeah”, your voice isn’t as steady as you’d like, “yeah, i did”.

it’s silent for a moment. you wonder if the mic of your phone is sensitive enough to catch your racing heartbeat. 

“you didn’t give me a chance to answer”, he says finally, voice tender but sure, “i love you too”.

[mypoisonedvine]

claimed || alpha!Andy Barber x reader

summary: an interrogation with an alpha is no place to have an unexpected heat.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: smut (dub con; the reader goes into heat and can’t think clearly enough to say no), a/b/o dynamics, loss of virginity, mentions of misogyny/discrimination against omegas, vague noncon and violence references, kinda housewife kink, possessiveness, breeding kink, praise, overstimulation, knotting, slight bondage (reader is handcuffed), slight pain kink, implied/subtle age gap, pregnancy mention at the end, kinda soft!dark andy but he's really not that dark

"This would be a lot easier for both of us if you started telling the truth."

You chewed your lip, looking away from the man across from you; it was impossible to keep eye contact when his gaze bore into you like that, when he gave you that stern, dominating look.

Andy Barber was so obviously an alpha, he was one of those types that just reeked of it. Figuratively— with the way he towered over you, his masculine body and strong features— but also literally considering his scent was filling the room now: pine, cinnamon, sage, and something a little bit sweet that made your mouth water.

It made sense for an alpha like him to have a high-powered, high-pressure career like this; he probably got a real kick out of squeezing information out of scared betas who couldn’t stand up to him.

And that was the role you were going to play now, because he was wrong: it would not be easier if you told the truth. If he knew what you really were, you’d be doomed.

You’d been hiding successfully as a beta for a long time by now, and you weren’t about to give it up now, even if it would likely have the charges against you dismissed. Omegas lived sheltered, oppressed lives; sought constantly by alphas, they had their pick of the finest since omegas were so rare, but until mated they were extremely vulnerable— and afterwards they were usually made to be subservient housewives, constantly bearing children as a consequence of their extreme fertility.

Maybe some omegas were okay with that, plenty probably loved that lifestyle since it was sort of the instinctual habit of an omega by nature, but not you. Never you. You wanted a life, a real life, your own life as more than an alpha’s mate. Thankfully you’d found the right mix of suppressants and perfumes to hide your scent, the right work schedule so you could always be home for your rare heats, and voila: to the rest of the world, you were a beta.

Being a beta meant being unnoticed, unacknowledged, never pursued and never courted. And that was exactly how you wanted it.

If Andy Barber knew that the man you’d stabbed was an alpha trying to force himself on you, there was a chance he would understand that it was self-defense and let you go. Then again, a lot of alphas seemed to think that being forced to mate was just par for the course for an omega; surely Andy wouldn’t be one of those types, as a man of the law, right?

“I can’t,” you finally answered.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me,” he assured, some of his anger shifting to a soothing tone. It really did calm you down; he must have been using his ‘alpha voice’ on you, and the fact that it worked should’ve been a red flag but you didn’t notice. “Let’s start from the beginning. You said you were at home but no one has confirmed your alibi. You said you didn’t know the victim but you obviously reacted when I showed you his picture. And, you said you weren’t there at the time of the murder but we found your DNA on the body.”

A little smile pulled at the corner of your lips, exactly not the reaction Andy had been expecting. “You’re lying,” you whispered.

He tensed up as you called his bluff. The DNA found at the scene was in the process of being analysed, sure, but it would be weeks until the results came back. “How can you be so sure?” he pressed.

“Because I.  Wasn’t. There,” you hissed, glaring back at him; he shook his head solemnly..

“No, that’s not it. I can tell when you’re lying, too, you know,” he warned.  “Tell me how you know I don’t have your DNA at the scene?”

“Because… because…” you breathed, blinking a few times as the room started to get warmer. Your head was spinning, your thighs clenched together— and when Andy reached out to rest his hand on yours and ask if you were alright, his touch sent it all into overdrive.

No, no, it wasn't your time yet. It shouldn't have come for a few more days, and you’d arranged to be bailed out tomorrow so you’d go into your cycle safely at home and not in jail. But now it was beginning and you had no way to stop it. Had the smell of an alpha really been enough to start your heat early?

Andy watched you start to pant and sweat with a furrowed brow, unsure what he was witnessing because he’d never had the opportunity to see it before. His ex-wife had been a beta, he'd never even met an omega before— they were quite rare after all.

But what he lacked in experience, he made up for in instinct; his body told him everything he needed to know about what he was seeing. “Omega,” he growled lowly, watching your whole body erupt into shivers at the timbre of his voice.

As far as alphas go, Andy was relatively level-headed, not as preoccupied with instinctual desires to dominate, to claim, to impregnate. A lot of alphas viewed mating with a beta as settling, although it was the much more likely outcome, statistically speaking. Andy, though, never really saw it that way, even knowing how much harder it would be to have a child with a beta. Their fertility was significantly weaker, both the males and the females, and Jacob was the product of years of trying; in all their marriage him and Laurie had never used any contraceptives and she only got pregnant the once.

But an omega? Especially a young one like you? He could knock you up right now, if he wanted. That power was intoxicating. It was exactly what he never knew he needed so badly.

“I don’t need the results of your DNA to know what you are,” he explained firmly. “I can’t believe I didn’t know before— you must have tried really hard to keep it a secret, little one. You must be so afraid of who you are… and who I am, for that matter.  It must scare you to imagine what I could do to you.”

You whimpered, the noise tugging his heart in conflicting directions; to comfort you, or to make you do it again.

“I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you think,” he assured. “Not if I can help it…”

Honestly, he wasn’t so sure he would be able to help it; he felt his own sanity slipping as he watched you writhe and cry, instinct overtaking logic in the both of you.

"Alpha, please," you shuddered, the title making his cock harden instantly, uncomfortably filling the trousers of his suit.

"You smell so good," he purred, taking his jacket off as he stood up to cool off a bit. "I can smell your heat, Omega. I bet everyone in the building can—” he glanced to the locked door— “but I'm the only one here."

"Need you," you whined, tugging on the handcuffs that kept you bound to the table.

"Stand up, bend over," he commanded, and he'd barely finished speaking when you'd already done it, bent at the hips with your forearms resting on the table as you waited for him. "Good girl."

He rolled up his sleeves and took his place behind you, caging his body in with yours, nuzzling into your neck to get a deep breath of your scent.

"Fuck, so sweet," he groaned. "Waited so long for this. To feel an Omega on my cock. Never thought it would really happen. Has an Alpha ever taken you before?"

"No, I never… no."

"Not just unclaimed but a virgin. Christ, am I dreaming?"

But he was too far gone to take any more time to appreciate his luck— he needed you now, and he was taking you all for himself.

If he wasn't so overcome with need he wouldn't have thought to tear your clothes off, but now he didn't even think to question the idea, shedding you of your clothes like they were made of paper until you were completely exposed to him, your wet core vulnerable while another wave of your sweet scent filled the room.

"Look at all this," he grinned, kneeling down to lap at your folds and taste your slick. Your eyes rolled back in your head, your channel craving to be filled. "All for me, Omega?"

"Yours, it's all yours…"

"Doesn't it feel good to be claimed, little one? To be owned?"

"S-so good," you agreed. "Want your knot, Alpha. Want your mark."

A growl echoed in his chest when you said that, and he craved nothing more than to bite your neck and bond you to him for life.

But, it would be better if he saved that for a little later.

He stood up again and gave your ass a quick slap— nothing too rough, just enough to make you yelp all cute and whiny— before grabbing your hips to pull them back into his. You gasped and pushed back onto him, shamelessly rubbing yourself against the thick outline of his cock.

"Gonna make a mess on me with all that slick, Omega," he growled, but it was by no means discouragement.

"Want it in me, please," you sobbed. Unable to resist your begging anymore, he hastily opened his belt and fly, sighing with relief when he wrapped his hand around his cock and pulled it out. Your whole body visibly quaked when he swiped the swollen head through your folds, coating himself in your plentiful arousal.

Without any further warning, he pushed his cock in with a loud moan, a cry tearing from your throat as he tore into your body. "Shh," he soothed as his fingers rubbed your spine, "that's my girl, that's my pretty Omega."

But pain wasn't really your issue; it hurt, yes, but what made you cry was that you were already on the edge, about to come from hardly anything. When he thrusted once, you lost it and your legs quivered as a new wave of slick started to dribble down them.

"Are you coming?" he asked darkly.

You could only nod, biting your lip to try to keep from moaning too loudly.

"Oh my god…" he groaned, amazed at how sensitive you were. Clearly he wasn't the only one realizing how powerful and incredible it could be when an alpha and omega mated.

He started to really pound into you then, each brutal thrust knocking you forward.

"Feels good when you come for me, Omega. Do it again."

You couldn't help yourself; his voice had complete control over your body, his words a command you were helpless to resist. With a broken whimper you came again, walls squeezing his cock in a weak and stuttered rhythm.

"It's better than they say it is. Even better than I imagined. So fucking good," he sighed. It felt so right, that was the thing. It felt like your body was made to be claimed and owned by him.

"Want your knot," you whined, "please, Alpha—"

"If I give you my knot, you're mine. My Omega. You will never allow another Alpha to touch you. You will not speak to another Alpha, look at another Alpha, even Betas are off-limits. When I bite you, you'll be bonded to me and become my wife, you'll never disobey me or leave me. When I knot you, you'll give me a child. Is all of that perfectly clear?"

It was everything you'd wanted to avoid just an hour ago. Now it was your greatest dream come true. "Yes, Alpha. Yours, Alpha."

"Want to be bred, Omega? Bred by your Alpha?"

"Please!" you sobbed.

"Then keep coming and I'll let you have it soon," he promised. "I'll give you all my come like you need so badly."

You whimpered as your walls seemed to try to suck him in deeper, gripping him so tight that it made his head spin. Orgasm after orgasm washed over you, too many and too numb to count, each part of you slowly stripped away and replaced with pure, all-consuming pleasure.

The base of his cock began to swell and you mewled proudly— that is, until, it just kept growing and you couldn't imagine taking anymore.

"P-pull it out," you begged instead.

"I told you that you would take my knot, was I not clear?"

But you hadn't realized how big it would get, how far it would stretch you— and it was still going. "It hurts, Alpha, please!"

"You'll get used to it, gonna keep it in you all night and give it to you every day so you'll have plenty of practice. Take my fucking knot while I come inside you and breed your cunt."

When his knot finally grew to its full potential, streams of hot come began to fill you, deeper than you had ever imagined possible. It was overwhelming, apparently unending, and one final orgasm rocked your body as you milked his cock for all it was worth.

He wrapped his arms around your body, holding you close and soothing you as you shivered and cried, his kisses trailing up your shoulder to your neck where, finally, he sunk his teeth into your skin and left his mark on you.

Your walls quivered around him at the feeling of being claimed, mated for life. In that moment you didn't notice or care that it was to a man you barely knew; he was your Alpha now, that was all that mattered.

He kissed and licked over the sensitive bitemark, whispering praises your ringing ears couldn't quite process yet.

At least you were getting bailed out a day early.

//

Andy kept his promise about exactly how owned you would be. For the first few months you didn't even leave the house, he was too busy filling you with his cock every day. Although he was happy to claim you anywhere he happened to find you— the shower where he hopped in randomly, the kitchen where he bent you over the counter, the living room where he pinned you onto the couch— his favorite place was the bed. It was rougher and more animalistic in the other places, but in bed he was possessive in an entirely different way.

"My wife, my sweet little wife," he whispered in your ear as he slowly thrust all the way into you, making your back arch until your chest pushed against his. "My Omega. All mine."

"Yours," you agreed.

The protectiveness increased tenfold when your scent changed during pregnancy, even more when you started showing; he was obsessed with the way you looked full of his baby.

As for you, omega life was better than you'd expected. At times you felt smothered by him, but simultaneously you felt worshipped and loved like you never thought you could deserve. He certainly spoiled you, though he expected your unwavering loyalty in return.

That part was easy, though. Love, not fear, kept you in check when other alphas had a wandering eye. They knew you were mated, the bitemark scar (which Andy never, ever let you cover) and ring (which Andy never, ever let you take off) were sign enough along with the change in your scent to them. Occasionally one would shoot his shot and get unilaterally rejected by you before getting his ass kicked by your husband. If only they knew what you'd done to the last alpha that tried to creep on you; how you met Andy in the first place.

In the end, maybe it wasn't so bad to fall into your instincts, your natural role in society. Andy sure made it pretty enjoyable with the way he brought you to the height of pleasure over and over every night. "Mine," he promised you in deep whispers, "from the moment I saw you."

[vinbee631]

Locked Away Heart

aw yeah, day 2 of Logince Week

I'm a little worried about making the deadline for tomorrow, but y'know what? I'm gonna try my best!

that aside, please enjoy my writing for day 2! the prompt was poetry in case you couldn't figure that out from the firs five words or so

Logan had a diary.

Well, it wasn’t nearly as juvenile as that sounded, but he did have a journal. Several, actually. Every day, he would take the time to write something down, whether that be something about how his day went, something new he had learned, or anything else that came to mind.

That anything else was typically poetry.

Logan was pretty shoddy at creative things. He could make his schedules bright and colorful, with each color having a different meaning, but that was about as far as his creative talents extended.

Except, he could write poetry.

Creativity with words, calculated and measured, but it could just be a slew of vocabulary that made sense to him and could be interpreted by others. It was incredible, and it had always fascinated him.

Some of his poems were just words he enjoyed, with connecting phrases in between. Some were what the internet would consider a “vent,” expressing something that was bothering him on the page where he could fester with it and it wouldn’t hurt anyone else.

Mostly, he wrote poems about his favorite things. Thomas’ favorite jungle animals, summaries of exciting new chapter books (some of the poems bordered on fanfiction, he supposed).

Then, in college, about the classes they took, his desperate search for knowledge and intense hope for the future.

And intense dread when those plans eventually fell through.

He wrote poems of the stars, of constellations, of galaxies, the ones painted in his room with glow stars mirroring the real night sky and the things themselves, glowing bright in the Imagination or surrounding Thomas’ home.

Later, much later, when the sides finally began to reconnect, after years of living divided and refusing to unite, even for Thomas’ sake, Logan began to write more poems about the sides themselves, and Thomas.

Of those, the poems about the others seemed to be taking over his notebook a bit. He still had days where he would share facts or quotes from good books he’d just finished, but when he wrote poems, they were nearly always about the others.

Logan had always had an intense interest in the sides and their roles through Thomas, even when the walls between sides were rising up high and conflicts were daily endeavors.

Thomas was an incredibly interesting individual. Humans themselves were so complex. Every single day, they had to make thousands of choices, millions of movements, only to receive harsh criticism for other humans for some of those perfectly normal choices and movements.

Living as a member of one of the most diverse and mentally advanced species was an incredibly difficult chance. Some people weren’t able to do it. The fact that Thomas had made it this far, and had been so successful as a person, was incredibly lucky.

And on top of all that, he had the sides! Facets of his personality corporealized, created for the purpose of navigating his life and choices, his feelings and mortals. The odds of their existence were almost immeasurable, and yet, they carried on.

Their relationships with each other we so complex, and mirrored Thomas’ mental state so perfectly, it was perfect, it was messy, and Logan loved it with every fiber of his being. Logan constantly had questions on his mind, only some of which he was able to find answers to. Some of those questions didn’t even make it to the pages, they made it straight to the others, in excited rants of passion too enticing to be kept a secret.

He wouldn’t, however, ever question why, and he certainly didn’t want to imagine a world in which they did not exist.

If the sides didn’t exist, there would be no one for the twins to ruthlessly but gently tease, there would be no one for Virgil to check up on and keep calm, and there would be no one for Patton to bake or knit with.

There would be no one for Janus to sass or come up with dilemmas to trip them up, and no one for Logan to debate with or simply admire for their existence.

Well, he didn’t exactly do the last one openly.

Despite being just a facet of Thomas’ life, he had his own personality, his own opinions, fears, and feelings. (And how bizarre was that? How did that work? How lucky was he to get to feel the things that he did even if he might not completely understand them still?)

He still faced quite a bit of embarrassment and shyness. When the sides faced their differences and been estranged because of it, Logan faced a lot of harsh criticism.

He didn’t blame the others, or Thomas for that matter. It was more than normal to question one’s own logic. In fact, he encouraged his host to question what he knew and to search for as many sources of information as he could find to prove points true.

It just… that questioning tended to come at a bit of a detriment to Logan’s confidence.

He was working on it, though. He was attempting to strengthen Thomas’ faith in his opinions and the things he learned to be true. Not everything needed to be questioned, which would lead to an unhealthy amount of introspection.

Yerkes-Dodson. A healthy balance.

In fact, that work with his confidence was something he had been writing for himself. Tips for future scenarios to help him voice his opinions strongly like he used to, quotes from relevant people about the subject matter.

And, of course, more poetry.

It seemed to be something he always fell back on. If he went a few weeks without writing one, he almost felt disappointed in himself.

Was this how the twins felt when they had artist’s block? If so he was even more regretful that was something they dealt with regularly.

Sometimes, he would just sit and read his work. He was quite proud of some of them, the longer ones that took him weeks just to find that one right word. Some of them he had even considered sharing.

No, no, his poems were his, they were made of him, they made him up.

If he shared them and experienced that familiar soul-crushing grief of being rejected, he wasn’t sure he could ever recover from that.

So, the poems would stay a secret. They’d stay tucked away in a locked drawer of his desk. He was always very careful to make sure the lock was secure when he was finished working and the key was safely hidden in another spot at the other end of his room.

Perhaps one day he’d find the bravery to present them, but he couldn’t imagine that outcome being anytime soon.

…

Roman really shouldn’t have been snooping around in Logan’s room, but he supposed it was a bit too late for that.

He just, well, he was very bored. Extremely bored, even. Remus was busy hanging out with Janus and Virgil, doing who knows what in his part of the Imagination. He knew not to disturb their time together. And, it was just around lunchtime, so Patton was cooking. The only person left for him to bother was Logan.

But when he very loudly knocked on his door and insisted he be let in, no response came. He kicked open the door, expecting to draw Logan’s attention away from whatever silly thing he was working on, but there was no one there.

He huffed, sitting down on Logan’s bed and deciding he was simply going to wait for him to get back. He craved the attention, after all, and Logan was still his best bet.

That plan lasted about 2 minutes max.

Roman groaned, flopping back onto Logan’s bed. He jumped slightly when he heard the telltale thud of something falling off the bed onto the carpet.

He peered over the edge, searching for whatever it was. He hoped it wasn’t Logan’s glasses. The other side would not hesitate to kill him if he broke those. But no, it wasn’t a pair of familiar Ray-Bans that he found. It was a small key, a piece of curly blue string tied to the end of it.

The challenge was practically gifted to him. He needed to find where this key went. And quickly, before Logan shut down his quest.

Maybe he should have figured out this was a bad idea. The sides all had private things they preferred for the others not to snoop in on, but Roman’s curiosity was not going to be satiated until he found where the key went. He didn’t even have to open whatever it was! He could just leave the key there and tell Logan about his discovery when he got back.

Except, once he slotted the key into Logan’s bottom desk drawer, the siren song of more discoveries quickly drew him in. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he turned the key and quietly slid the drawer open.

Roman was a bit disappointed to find a series of composition notebooks laying inside. That wasn’t interesting at all! It was probably just old notes from when Thomas was in school, or records of old schedules or something boring like that.

He groaned, pulling one out just to see if it had a label on it or something, anything remotely interesting. The notebook he picked was black, plain leather except for a small, white sticker on the front.

‘PROPERTY OF LOGAN SANDERS 5-1-19 to 12-1-19’

Huh, it was some sort of record, something in 2019, apparently. Roman rolled his eyes a bit. Leave it to Logan to keep records of the daily happenings in Thomas’ mind, or the stuff he learned, or whatever was in this thing.

Thankfully, it was at this point that he found some self-restraint. These notebooks were obviously important to Logan, and Roman should at least respect some of his privacy by not opening them. He carefully slipped the book back exactly where he found it.

It was, of course, at that moment when Logan came back.

He stared at Roman, blinking slowly, face unreadable. “Uhh, heyyyyy, buddy! I was just… uh, putting this back! I didn’t read it, I promise! I just came in here to see if you wanted to hang out, but you weren’t here, and then something fell off your bed, and it was a key so of course, I had to figure out where it goes and one thing led to another and I found this drawer thingy! I gotta admit, I’m very curious what you have hiding in here but if you don’t wanna share I can respect your privacy and-”

“Roman, please slow down. I’m not upset,” Logan soothed, crouching down next to him to take the key back. “I can’t fault you for being curious, although I am grateful you decided against reading these. I…”

Logan paused, debating what to say next. He could simply let Roman leave, let him know he wasn’t upset but that the books were private, and Roman would respect that.

Although…

Roman was creativity. He knew firsthand the joys of creation, the toils of perfecting a work, and the crushing guilt and mortification of having those creations ridiculed.

Of all the sides, maybe he could trust him with these.

“You don’t have to share, teach. I’ll live without knowing what’s in your secret notebooks.” Roman moved to stand, but Logan quickly caught his arm.

“W-wait! I… I think I would like to show you, if… if you are still, er, interested?” Logan nearly flinched as the statement came out questioning.

“Oh- oh Logan, of course! Let’s check these out!” Roman grinned, plopping himself right back on the floor and looking to Logan expectantly.

Logan frowned slightly, tracing a hand down the spines of the books, years of work, so many pens broken or emptied. This drawer was him, his life on display. He just hoped Roman would be understanding.

“So, these notebooks, I’ve been working on them for a very long time.” Logan selected a more recent one, the summer and fall of the previous year. “I’ve always found it calming to collect my thoughts through written words, and after a while, I came to enjoy the routine.

“Most of it is, well, perhaps a bit boring. Reminders for the next day and new facts that Thomas had learned, or a more diary-like approach with a recount of the day’s events. But, uhm…

“I also wrote some poetry. This book is mostly that.” Roman nodded, carefully turning the pages to the first poem.

Logan sat, debating whether to keep talking as Roman read. However, any other explanation he could have hoped to provide died on his tongue. Too nervous to speak, he sat and fidgeted as Roman read.

…He had been reading for a while.

Oh goodness, what if he hated them? A decent portion of those poems were about Roman, after all. This was around the time of the fallout from the wedding. Tensions were high, and Logan was frustrated beyond belief.

His poems were filled with passionate scrawls, grammar mistakes going unnoticed in fits of passion. Logan had spent hours poring over his journals, scrawling so hard the pages often ripped.

Perhaps this had been a very bad choice.

A very, very bad choice.

When Roman finally broke his concentration from the diary in his hands, there were tears in his eyes.

“I- Roman, what’s wrong?” Logan stammered, quickly breaking himself out of his nervous stupor.

“Oh, nothing, nothing, sorry. I just… Logie. Specs. These are incredible. Why haven’t you shared them before?” Roman quickly wiped at his eyes, staring at Logan with such an open, admiring face that he felt his own eyes begin to burn.

“I… well, thank you, Roman. I suppose… I was far too nervous to share them until now. They are… obviously very personal, and… important to me. I feared… if someone were to dislike them it… uhm, it would be difficult to… recover from that. Emotionally, I mean.”

Roman let out a gentle sigh, taking one hand off the journal to squeeze Logan’s. “Well, I can’t speak for the others, but you can share anything with me. I won’t judge, I won’t tease if you ask me not to. Making something this… passionate, this… beautiful, Lo, darling, these really are so beautiful… I could never give you anything but admiration for a creation like this.”

Logan, much to his dismay, found that burning sensation to be falling down his cheeks.

“Ah, I suppose that was a bit too much. Come here, darling.” Logan obliged, allowing Roman to wrap his arms around him as he sat gingerly in his lap. Roman gave him a moment to compose himself. He even took the liberty of wiping his tears off with the edge of his jacket sleeve. Logan found himself blushing a bit at the action, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore.

“Sorry for making you cry, Lo, but I meant what I said. These really are so good, you’re an incredible author.” Logan shrugged, avoiding Roman’s eye contact as the blush started creeping up his neck.

“They’re… alright. I suppose. I’m.. I’m glad you enjoyed them. If you would like… you er, may keep one of my finished journals to… continue reading. If you’d like.”

“Oh, Lo, I’d love to! Thank you so much! Do you think we could show the others? These really are incredible! You, at first I wasn’t sure what you were talking about, and the syntax was not helping, but you just-”

Roman continued on, gushing over all the little details Logan had poured into his pieces.

He was a bit hesitant about sharing with the others, but he noted with a small, private smile that Roman would definitely respect that. And, if he did decide to allow the others into this part of himself, he was beginning to believe they might receive them just as Roman was, not a critique or harsh word in sight.

Honestly, with the gilded praises he wove of his friends in those poems, it was starting to be easier to think they would live up to the words he crafted for himself, and for them.

[cloudninetonine]

A past that still haunts me

A/N: Hey guys, it's me (ya boi) I'm back with my still current hyper fixation Genshin Impact and a vent fic because I've been really stressed and well, it's hard living in my house :) It's a hurt/comfort fic because they always get to me and I needed to make something for myself

I am willing to do aftermath where the boys confront the abuser or do scenario but with different characters

Synopsis: You’re not a damsel in distress, you never have been and you never will be, but, well, sometimes you need a hero to rely on and that’s okay

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli and Childe

Warnings: Hints to past abuse, confrontation of abuser, violence, mentions of blood, threats, foul language

It had meant to be like any other menial day of an adventurer: sign in with Katheryne, complete your commissions, sign out with Katheryne with your payments - done and dusted.

But that wasn’t how it went, no, far from it - archons, so damn far from it.

“Thank you once again, (Name)” Katheryne’s smile was kind like usual, holding that familiar feeling of gratitude as she handed over your remission within a marked package, hand returning to the desk’s polished surface once you had taken it graciously, sending her a beaming grin back. “The Guild really appreciates your work ethic when it comes to the Ruin machines, it’s hard to come across adventurers who want to handle them anymore”

You sent her a shrug as you placed away the box “Can’t blame them really, they’re a hard bunch to handle- I was terrified of them when I first started too, but I had my vision to help me out, a lot of these folk only use there pure determination to eradicate them, gotta admire that!”

She laughed along with you politely “Have a good evening, (Name), I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Of course you will!” You backpedalled away from the guild reception, throwing the woman a polite double fingered salute as you did “Ad astra abyssoque as they say, my fair lady!”

She parrotted back her usual phrase before disappearing into the building, you walking further down the path of the city for your final activity for that day.

Of course, you didn’t reach that far, after all, it wasn’t that menial day you had expected, that you had wanted. Life was cruel sometimes, so incredibly cruel for no justified reason just for the sake of it all and you wished, archons, you wished you could rewind the clock and stop yourself from bumping into the body, to save yourself from all the repressed trauma bursting forth like a flurry of butterflies, well, more like moths, disgusting, ungodly, monster moths that aimed straight for the face.

“Sorry!” You yelped, too preoccupied with gathering your pocketwatch you had dropped in the stumble to see who it had been, after all, you were on a schedule and you didn’t want to be-

“(Name)?”

...late.

All of a sudden, time didn’t seem to exist, or maybe it was moving way too slowly from that horrid spike of adrenaline that shot into your bloodstream as soon as the voice registered.

You hoped to the Archons that it wasn’t, that it couldn’t, but did the gods hear your prayers?

“Oh Archons, it is you! It’s been such a long time!”

Of course, they did, they just didn’t care to listen. Ignoring the cries of your people were in fashion to them these days.

They stood there with a smile so excited it almost seemed to tear their face in half, with eyes sparkling with recognition after so many years away from them, they opened their arms welcoming you into their embrace like it was something just so normal for the two of you like you would come bounding to them like a lost puppy who had finally found their master.

The fear of your abuser dwarfed in comparison the pure feral rage and loathing to think that they even deserved to be breathing in the same space as you.

People were looking, of course, they were looking, you knew what they were doing, being bright and jovial, bringing others attention towards you both so that whatever scene you caused would be your fault like you were the bad guy. It was old tactics, of course, you wouldn’t dare do anything when you were younger, you’d just push through it, but this wasn’t old times, this wasn’t younger you, scared, smaller you afraid them, this was you now, a warrior, unwavering in battle, a person who smiled in the face of danger, who laughed at the pitiful fights that 2- no- 4 abyss mages brought to you!

To hell what other people thought, you’d stomp their head into the cobblestone if they had so much as poked you.

“Come here and give me a-”

You took a step back, mustering the deadliest face you could, but you wavered, it was only natural, no matter how much you could try to hype yourself up, this person was your first true experience of real-life nightmares, the first person to bring you true pain, no matter how many ruin guards, hunters, millachurls, mages- anything you faced, nothing could prepare you to face your first fear:

The fear of your older sibling.

“If you fucking touch me I’ll stab you-” The growl cracked nearing the end, you were always an angry crier but you were not about to fall back to this- this monster. “In front of all these people, I won’t hesitate”

Their face dropped followed by your stomach, though, the food you had for lunch sure did feel its way up your gullet.

“What’s with your language? We haven’t seen each other in four years and this is how you treat me? Your older sibling?” They laughed in disbelief because onlookers would think they were shocked, I mean, how could you speak to family like that? But they didn’t know, they didn’t know the words they had told you, the insults, the threats, those tight grabs, those beatings- they didn’t know, so they obviously didn’t know that the shock came from the fact that you had stood up to them.

You licked your lips to get rid of the dryness, but the problem you faced was that your mouth had dried out along with them, as did your throat.

Don’t let them turn this on you, don’t let them get the upper hand, you were better than them, so much better.

“You’re not my fucking sibling” You spat, feeling the air vibrate around you, a sudden shine from your cloak hinted you to the cause “You haven’t been for a long time, don’t fucking try that shit with me”

There it was, that familiar enraged spark, that look of hatred on their face, the thing that warned you about what you said had been the right thing to set them off, that they were just as easily triggered by the smallest act of rebellion just like when you were kids.

Of course, they hadn’t changed.

Evil never did.

They took a step forward but you didn’t back off, just hardened your resolve as they leaned in menacingly, as though their stupid little intimidation tactic still worked after all these years.

You told yourself it didn’t but you knew deep down that wasn’t completely true.

“Don’t speak to me like that, (Name)” Facade gone, they showed you what they really were, what they were really like after all, “Don’t you ever speak to me like that, you show me fucking respect”

Respect?

RESPECT!?

Oh Archons, you were angry, no, seething from the thought that they ever deserved respect.

That pathetic piece of shit, that gruelling pleb, mere gum on the bottom of your damn shoe-

You’d kill them, right here, right now.

You felt the familiar materialisation begin to form in your hand when another voice called out, a familiar loving one that nearly made your throat swell from relief.

“(Name)?”

Diluc

He could sense the tension. Of course, he could sense the tension, Diluc had faced this tension so many times before, he was practically the one that owned such a vibe anytime Kaeya even breathed near him for a second longer than necessary.

But being the one to witness it, to see you, the usual awkward, goofy sweetheart stare at another with such overbearing malice made him uneasy, caused his stomach to churn in ways he didn’t like, set him off in a way that was only reserved for the most chilling on moments.

Diluc wondered what exactly this stranger had done to warrant such a reaction from you.

“(Name)?” The redhead called, glancing around the many citizens of Mondstadt that watched the exchange with intrigue, guard and worry, eyes focused on the scene of this foreign stranger and fuming you, hand poised by your side with weapon particles dancing on your palm.

When Diluc finally made it over, his form seemed to curl protectively around you, hand landing on the small of your back delicately while keeping face with the person, eyes narrowed dangerously but still holding an air of civilness.

A true gentleman, even when you were close to merking some rando.

“Is there a problem?”

The stranger straightened immediately, backing up a few steps with their hands up in defence, sending Diluc a charming smile that the man could see through crystal clear.

“No problem, no problem at all” They glanced back at you, seemingly friendly despite his partner’s obvious ill intent that radiated off you in waves “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

Diluc saw you tense up once again, the buzz from your Vision rising in volume with your obvious anger as you tightened your first, ready to just screw your weapon and go for the throat.

“If that is the case” The noble’s hand softly pressed against your back, gently but coaxing, knowing that conflict in the middle of the town centre would just bring the knights to meddle in affairs that they had no business attending “Then we shall be going”

“There’s no need to leave, after all, my sibling and I were just chatting”

He paused, shouldering a questioning glance your way but at the sight of your unruly expression, he pushed down his enquiries and once again began coaxing you away from the scene. Angel’s Share had already been open for a while, meaning the usual folk would already be settled in, but the storage room was sure to be a good place to chat and to calm you down, all he needed to do was get you away.

“We already had plans” The side glance had the stranger- your sibling, biting their tongue, brows furrowing in a known annoyance as the two of you began your way towards the pub, you still vibrating in anger. “Good day to you”

The two of you had made it a few feet when they called out once again “Don’t worry, (Name), I’ll see you again real soon”

Diluc’s arm tightened around you faster than you could react, tugging you away quickly “Diluc-”

“No, (Name)”

“Stay out-”

“Not here” Sharing a look, he softened at the shine in your eyes. “You’ll just attract the knights' attention”

You didn’t care, no, not one bit. If the knights had dared to interfere at that moment, they too would have been caught up in your blinded revenge, thrown aside or slashed down without single care just to finally eradicate the bane of your existence and you didn’t care about what consequences you brought about, you just didn’t and you made sure to tell Diluc that, as soon as you had the privacy of Angel’s Share’s storeroom, pacing up and down while he stood off to the side against the wall, watching silently.

“You had no right to get in my way!” You snapped, voice shaking from the pure emotions you were releasing “I finally had my chance, I was finally going to do it! They deserve to end by my hand, by my decision, after the years of torture they put me through! They deserved it! And you got in my way! How could you get in my way! I-”

Pushing off the wall, he slowly advanced towards you, carefully, hands out like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“I understand you’re upset-”

“I’m not upset!” You cried at him, stopping mid-step before dropping your head and tightly, grabbing your hair in your hands “I’m not upset! I’m angry! I’m so fucking angry! And I deserve to be fucking angry! I-”

The sob ripped through your throat despite you trying to hold it back, tears finally gathering in your eyes and rapidly falling down your cheeks “You should have let me kill them! I should have had the chance to rid the world of their evil! It’s not fair! It’s not- it’s not fair, I-”

You didn’t bother to fight him when his arms finally wrapped around you, just fell against him as you wept. The pent up rage, fear and sadness from years of repression taking its toll as you cried, your partner whispering sweet words as he raked his hand through your hair gently and leaned his head against yours.

“I’m sorry” His hand held your cheek fondly, ruby red staring back into your own eyes with a softness that made you melt “I didn’t know this meant so much to you, but if you’re willing to tell me, I’ll listen. I’ll always listen”

With another choked sob, you leaned into his hold “Please just hold me for now”

And he did just that.

Kaeya

The captain had promised to meet you at his office, a simple task really but with the lingering presence of Jean and the words ‘There’s so much work that needs to be done’ leaving her lips he bolted, hoping to catch you by the Guild and drag you to Angel Share for your date. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was just he had already promised you this night and Eula could have always taken his place with paperwork, her threat of “vengeance” as she liked to call it could wait for another day.

It was also due to the fact he had no intentions of filing any paperwork for as long as he could avoid it, but that was his secret to be kept.

Being the perspective man he was, he could tell straight away he had walked into something tense, surveying the surrounding people of Mondstadt who looked on in concern, the unbridled rage upon your face, the obviously intimidating lean that the stranger held over you- something was wrong and he knew he had to put a stop to it.

“(Name)?” You glanced for a single moment before your furious glare had returned to the stranger, another flag waving right in his face as he approached, “My dear? Who might this be?”

Before you could snap, lip curling in disgust, the stranger stood back to their full height, switching quickly with a fake charming smile that practically mirrored his own, holding out their hand towards him “(S/N) (Last), (Name)’s older sibling. it’s nice to meet you”

Kaeya’s smile widened and despite the glare from you that was now focused on him, he shook your sibling's hand in-kind “Kaeya Alberich, (Name)’s partner-”

He made sure to tighten his grip with his last words “And Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius”

Successfully, as he always was, Kaeya held back the smug, mocking grin that itched to climb onto his face when the neck of your sibling bobbed nervously, forehead reflecting the afternoon light as sweat gathered on their brow.

The man hadn’t obviously threatened them, surely, Kaeya was smarter than that, but then again, he could still present himself as a threat, a good one and well, his title was a menacing one when it came to the right moment. ‘Try anything and not only do I have the authority to kick your arse but the power to put you in a place many didn’t dare even step’ shortened into an innocent sentence with only 8 words.

“Cavalry Captain? That’s quite impressive” They laughed off, tugging away their hand awkwardly when Kaeya continued to keep a firm grip, his present eye focused solely on your siblings face. They glanced over to you “Quite an achievement for you, aye (Name)?”

You growled, “I’ll show you an achievement-”

Kaeya’s arm had wrapped around your waist not a second later, tugging you tighter to his side as the two of you turned, the man throwing your sibling a smile over his shoulder.

“As nice as it was to meet you, (S/B), we must be going”

And then without another word Kaeya dragged you away, heading in the direction of your home instead of Angel Share tavern, feeling your pure, unfiltered anger the whole way along with the citizens as they parted ways, rushing off from your rage.

It was only when you had returned to the sanctuary of your abode did you snap, jerking away from your boyfriend with angered strides and beginning your seething lecture towards him, moving up and down through the living room while he ventured off into the kitchen, grabbing 2 glasses and a bottle of wine.

“How dare you Kaeya! How fucking dare you! Do you have any idea what you were doing back there!? What was even happening back there!? So much for being the most observant man in Mondstadt because you seemed pretty dense to me the whole fucking time!” Your hands raked through your hair as you yelled, trying so hard to hold back the tears “I didn’t need your damn help, Kaeya! Nor did I fucking want it! Know to stay out of someone's business when it isn’t wanted!”

Logically you knew what he had done, you were smart like that and you knew Kaeya long enough to know what he was doing but your rage, fear and sadness blocked out everything in that moment, made you blind to reality, made you only think irrationally and Kaeya didn’t blame you for that. He could never blame you for that.

Though, it did hurt him to see you in this state.

“Wine?”

You gawked at him for a moment, staring at him with shock and confusion as he held out a wine glass towards you, another held in his other hand and a sweet smile plastered on his face, before your moment morphed into rage, grabbing the drink from his hand and tossing it towards the wall, the red wine splattering over the wallpaper and glass shards falling to the floor.

“Well, that was a waste-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Kaeya!?” You cried, not even bothering to hold back anymore as the tears fell and your voice cracked, hand pointing accusingly in his face “Is this some kind of joke to you!? Huh!? Am I a fool in your eyes!? Some sort of blubbering idiot!? Why must you- why do you-”

The second glass was placed on the dresser by you both, Kaeya’s hand coming to hold your cheek fondly while the other came to grab your hand that dangled in the air, still poised at him “I don’t think you're either of those, my dear, in fact, I think you’re one of the brightest in the whole of Teyvat, nevermind Mondstadt”

You hiccuped “Then why-”

Brushing away the wetness from your cheek, he brought your hand to his mouth to place a fond kiss on your palm “Because you mustn’t cry, (Name), don’t waste your tears on someone like them”

“I’m not crying, I’m-”

He shushed you gently and you finally relaxed, falling into his embrace with a heavy heart “-I’m not, I swear-”

Within the familiarity of your home, you wept in his arms, exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions and the scenes that had transpired that day, ready to just curl into yourself and try to block the flooding memories of history. Although, having Kaeya at that moment helped more than he could ever know, having him to rely on made it all so much easier to cope with that day.

“Tell me what ails you and I’ll listen” Brushing back some hair, he pressed a kiss to your head.

“Can..can we just stay like this for a while?”

“Of course, my dear”

Zhongli

He had sensed the incoming danger like it had been revealed in some sort of premonition. Maybe it had been a skill he had acquired after his long, eventful life, maybe it was his connection to Liyue and his citizens, but for some reason, as he sat before Iron Tongue Tian as the man recalled his tales of ancient Liyue like usual, Zhongli knew that the crowd that was forming around Wamin Restaurant had something that he need urgently attend, especially when even Tian paused his story to glance around the corner of the restaurant building to see the commotion.

When the archon had finally borne witness to the scene, he paused within the crowd, surveying the surroundings carefully. You were the centre of attention, along with another stranger, both glaring at one another with anger and disgust, though your own anger seemed to double compared to the other’s, seeing as your weapon was slowly materialising in your grip. Zhongli could also see Guild Master Lan making her way down the steps leading to the Guild reception, a worried expression on her face glancing between you and the approaching Millelith.

Zhongli made his decision, politely pushing through the crowd until he had finally made it by your side, hand being placed gently on your arm “(Name)?”

Both you and the stranger glanced at him, but he paid no mind to them, only held eye contact with you when Lan appeared by your other side, glaring at the stranger with a hardened gaze.

“Are you harassing my guild member?”

Before the stranger could respond, the Millelith had also popped in, glancing between you and them “Is there a problem?”

Zhongli had taken up your view when Lan began her take, she had borne witness for much longer than he had of course and he was certain that you were in no state to talk to the guards. Your eyes were glazed with hatred, pupils pinpricks in a sea of (E/C) and your hands were shaking, balled into fists.

If anything, he needed to try and calm you down first.

“Get the hell out of my way, Zhongli” Your teeth ground together, words shaking with anger “Don’t push yourself into my business”

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t do that” He tried brushing your cheek but you jerked away, glaring at his hand before glaring back at him, in no mood to be coddled “I don’t want you to do something you’d regret”

“Trust me, I won’t regret this one bit”

Zhongli held his tongue for the question that almost rolled out, knowing now wasn’t the time for inquiries when the stranger’s voice rang out, condescending and snarky as they addressed you.

“Still need people to protect you, aye (Name)? Of course, you’re still the same pathetic bitch from years ago”

You were lucky for your reputation around Liyue, for the picture of the kind and caring adventurer that had swept through the town from your years of living here because had it not been for that, you pushing aside your boyfriend and materialising your weapon to aim it at your sibling’s throat would have had you in cuffs that instant.

Lan grabbed you, tugging you away as you screamed “I’ll show you pathetic you fucker! Let me go!”

The Millelith didn’t wait to drag your sibling away, much to their cries of dismay, one sending Lan a nod while you continued to fight against her, crying out in frustration.

“Kid, you have to calm down-”

“Calm down!? No! Get the hell off me!”

Zhongli watched as you finally broke away, huffing and puffing up a storm before glancing amongst the crowd, staring at their worried and concerned faces, your own eyes tearing up before you looked away pushing past the crowd to find somewhere to be alone.

When Lan went to call out for you, Zhongli raised his hand, the two sharing a look before the archon made his way after you, his longer legs keeping a steady pace to which he could catch up to you, just beyond the bridge that led into Liyue Harbour. There were no people where you stood, just the lush green plants and great mountains of nature, a perfect place for you to let out your frustration without the prying eyes of the citizens.

“(Name)-”

“Leave me alone!” You cried, curling into yourself with your back turned to him “I don’t want you here, Zhongli! Nor did I want you back there! I didn’t need your or anyone else's help!”

You knew he was here from a place of concern, and deep down you begged that your words didn’t harm him in any way, but currently, you didn’t care, you didn’t want to care, you just wanted to be numb, numb to the flashbacks of your horrid past and numb to the feelings that were dragged along with them.

“My love, please, return with me to our home, I will brew some calming tea-”

“Tea? Tea!? Does it look like I want any fucking tea?! I couldn’t care any less about some fucking tea, Zhongli!” Spinning around on your heels, you scowled at him, not bothering to hide your rushing tears “Don’t you get it!? I want to be left alone, I-”

Two gloved hands gently encased your face, your angered expression morphing into one of shock as your partner stared down at you with glowing eyes filled with a deep-rooted love, affection, worry and so much more that you couldn’t put into mere mortal words. At that moment, everything felt as if it had melted away, only you and him were in this world, nothing else, just the two of you.

And you felt as though your heart had been lifted from the pressures of this life.

“I do not think it is best for you to be left alone” His baritone voice was always so calming, so serene and in your sane moment, you finally felt its effects “I wish to stay with you, so please, let me stay”

With a whimper, you grabbed onto his forearms and leaned your face into his hands, tears continuing to fall as your eyes fluttered shut “Okay…”

“They have hurt you deeply, haven’t they?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me the details?”

“I-...” Sharing eye contact once again, you whispered “Can- can you just...hold me for now? Please”

Moving his hands from your face, he engulfed you in his arms, leaning his head against yours “Of course”

Childe

The Harbinger had just left the Northland Bank, hell, he was just about to make his way down the spiral staircase but when hearing the commotion, he paused, something in his gut telling him to check just before and he was glad he did.

Glancing over the elevated walkway, he felt a fiery pit roar in the depths of his stomach, eyes narrowing dangerously at the scene; you were snarling in some other person’s face, their own face nothing short of disgust and a crowd that only seemed to grow by the minute.

Who the hell did this person think they were? Did they even know who you were? To stand so close to you, with a look of threat on their face like you weren’t about to kick their arse? Like he wasn’t about to kick their arse? How did this insignificant speck of dross not know your connections with him, the 11th Harbinger? Or did he know and was just trying his luck?

“Seems like someone has a death wish” And a death wish they had indeed.

Ignoring the perplexed glance from his subordinate stationed outside the building's entrance, Childe made his way down the steps, murderous look stitched on the whole way to the circle of civilians, the mass parting ways for the man that was Tartaglia and continuing to watch the moment in silence.

“Who the hell are you-” You both turned towards him, you in shock while the stranger stared in confusion until Childe’s hand wrapped around their collar, tugging them closer to look down at them with a deep-rooted disgust “-And why the hell are you harassing my partner?”

They fought against him, obviously, they did, but the surprise came when you saddled up next to him, grabbing his arm “Stay out of this, Tartaglia”

What? It hadn't been your request, no, you were always one to finish your whole fights you weren't "A damsel in distress after all!" no, you were so much more, so much greater but that look on your face, murderous and downright cruel- he just couldn't believe his ears.

Childe stared at you in shock while the stranger struggled, throwing him a dirty look in their attempts “Yeah, this is between my sibling and I”

Childe straightened in surprise, feeling embarrassment flood his system. Had he seriously just grabbed and threatened his lover’s family member? Oh, Archons, his judgement had been clouded by anger at the look of the scene, I mean, why would your sibling look at you that way-

“But it’s really no surprise that you still need to be babied, (Name), how shameful”

His eyes widened but not a moment later had you tackled your sibling, the crowd crying out in alarm as you threw back your fist and crushed their nose under the weight of your punch. “I’ll show you fucking shameful, bastard!”

There was shouting and a glance showed the oncoming Millelith marching towards the circle.

Being Fatui always did garner the attention of the guards nowadays, especially for him, who had tried to lure out the attention of their Archon by summoning an ancient god that nearly drowned the entirety of the harbour, so it was no surprise that they seemed to hurry in the pursuit when they noticed his appearance at the scene. However, lucky for him, your reputation as a great adventurer preceded you and throughout Liyue you were seen as a trusted and well-liked individual, meaning whatever trouble you got in, containing his meddling or not, was usually waved away due to the trust of the people.

So, without another thought, Childe tugged you off of your bloodied sibling and held you close, even as you thrashed violently, shouting at him to let you go.

“What is going on here?” A guard called, slamming the hilt of his polearm into the ground as he surveyed the area, eyes landing on the sibling before following the small trail of blood to you, still fighting against your boyfriend with threats falling from your lips “Was there a reason for this brawl? Who started it?”

As your sibling raised themselves on their forearms, they scowled and opened their mouth to respond, only for Childe to put in. “It was them, sir, they were the one that started it, (Name) was merely acting in self-defence”

The Millelith scowled at him, raising a brow and once again looking you over “Is that so?”

He addressed the crowd soon after “Is this what happened?”

And as expected, they all glanced over the sibling, then to you and piped up in agreement. It paid to be a hero, it seemed, the whole harbour returning the favour of years of helping out the community.

“If that’s the case, please come with us” The sibling cried out, anger and fear laced into their voice, trying to argue for their innocence only for the guards to grab them, hauling them away to archons know where while Childe did the same with you, slowly dragging you away from the scene and back into the bank, you screaming and cursing the whole way until you had made it to his office, finally managing to push him off and storming to the opposite side of the room practically seething.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Tartaglia!?” You cried, throwing out your arms in exaggeration “I didn’t need your fucking help! And why the fuck would you pull me off them!? I had them right where I wanted them and you fucking did that! Are you a moron!?”

“You had a sibling” He breathed, watching as you began to pace, muttering in an angered state “And you didn’t tell me”

“-after all these years I finally had the chance to end their pathetic excuse of a life and you just got in my fucking way! I’d waited too long for this moment and you fucking ruined it! How dare you, how fucking dare you-”

“(Name), why didn’t you tell me you had a sibling!?” He cried, walking up to you and grabbing your wrist to stop you “I was ready to kill them right there! And why are you talking about them like this!? They’re your family aren’t they-”

“They are not my fucking family!”

The scream echoed through the room, chilling Childe to the core as you ripped your arm from his grasp, running your hands through your hair before gripping it so tightly it felt close to being ripped from your head. But you didn’t care, no, you couldn’t, you were so angry and you needed something to keep you grounded, to keep yourself from losing yourself and getting lost in those haunting past memories.

The Harbinger felt his chest squeeze painfully as the tears fell down your face, red rimming your eyes and cheeks wet as you sobbed, chest heaving from trying to breathe “Family takes care of you! Family thinks of you in the highest light possible! They love you for who you are and they love you no matter what! That bastard hurt me, made me feel worthless and they refuse to believe they could do no wrong and I hate them! They are the bane of my existence! They are not my fucking family! I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I-”

Arms were around you instantly, Childe’s face pressed into your hair as you wept, grasping onto the lapels of his suit and shoving your face into his chest to muffle your cries.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his own eyes shining slightly “I’m sorry, I was being insensitive. Please, don’t cry”

“No, I’m not crying, I promised myself I wouldn’t-” You hiccuped “I wouldn’t waste any more tears on them-”

Then you broke off into more wails, your boyfriend holding you close and letting you continue to cry in his arms, warm and comforting until you were finally reduced to whimpers, leaning into him heavily as the remaining adrenaline in your body began to wear thin when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Will...will you tell me about it?”

You sniffed “Later...just hold me for now, please, Ajax...”

His arms tightened protectively “Anything for you, my love”

[skzsauce01]

Clementia

Anniversary Request Special

Description: You’d always had a special place in your heart for Lee Minho even though he gives you countless reasons to hate him. How long will your patience last?

Warning: alcohol, sexual assault

Word Count: 2.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x Minho

“Y/N—”

“Go away, Minho.”

“Y/N, look at me.”

“I said no!”

“Well I said I’m sorry.”

You snap around to face him. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Lee Minho. You screwed up. You. Screwed. Up. I gave you one request, and you couldn’t even do that.”

“I had my reasons!” he protests.

“Yeah? Well let’s hear them.”

He emits a few noises but can't come up with anything. His face flushes red, but not as red as yours.

“There’s no excuse for breaking someone’s heart ever. Remember that.” You turn on your heels and begin walking away until he says something even more repulsive.

“Why do you care so much? She’s not even your real sister!” he calls after you.

You pause, unable to comprehend how such words could ever enter your ears. You then slowly walk back to him as he stiffens with every step you take.

“Not my real sister?” Your voice is soft, but it is effective.

“I mean—”

“You’re saying the girls at Epsilon Phi aren’t sisters?” Your voice begins to rise. “We’re more sisters than you and I were ever friends, Lee Minho! We love each other more than biological families do, but of course you wouldn’t know how that feels, would you? All you have in your chest is a cold, hard piece of coal!”

You turn away and break off into a run this time. Tears stream down your face from being insulted and betrayed by someone you held with high esteem.

You like Lee Minho. Of course, you’d never admit that. To the world, he is just some kid of your mom’s friend who annoyed you to no end, but through the arguments and time spent trying to prove each other wrong, your feelings grew bit by bit. When he had a relationship with your very own Little, you held in your feelings and wished them both the best. After all, you love both of them, and their happiness together was good enough for you.

That is, until Minho broke things off as nothing but a fling.

Minho has always been a huge flirt, but he’d promised to take her seriously this time. You made him swear it, and you emphasized how much your Little meant to you. Now, because you’re his family friend, your Little won’t even speak to you. Minho had ruined your and her relationship, and evidently yours and his too.

He didn’t used to be like this, all manipulative and amorous. You remember he used to follow you at the heel, caring about nothing more than sticking gum in your hair. It wasn’t until senior year of high school did he start hanging out with random girls and trying daredevilish things. You missed the old Minho, but you thought you’d accept him for all his changes since you did, after all, like him.

Until this moment, that is.

What he did was too much. What he said was too much. You know he is becoming toxic, and if he is going to continue down this path, even your love isn’t going to bring him back to your heart.

Minho watches your waning back then slams his fist against a nearby tree with a curse. You didn’t give him enough time to explain, not that he would have been able to in front of you.

You’d forgive him though, right? You have to. When he messed up before this, Minho could be sure you would. But now, he isn’t so certain. He has never seen you so angry and disappointed before, and he did that to you. Him. Minho lets out another string of curses and trudges back to his room.

He tries making it up to you the very next morning. He shows up to your 8 AM class with a cup of coffee and slides it onto your desk before sitting down himself.

You don’t even look at him. You just take the cup and slam it down in front of him, causing its contents to spill and burn your fingers. He quickly takes your hand in his and begins wiping it with his sleeve, but you recoil your arm and take out your own napkin.

The next place he tries is at your neighboring frat party. He knows you would be there, so he wears his tightest black jeans and a loose button-up. This trick has worked with other girls, so he hopes it would on you.

He takes the dance floor with his powerful dance moves and charisma. He can see you deliberately turned away from him and chatting with someone else, so he dances towards you. The cheering circle that has formed around him moves as well, engulfing you into the crowd.

You finally turn to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. Minho takes this chance to shoot you a wink which draws the crowd’s attention to you. They cheer and push you towards him despite your protests.

Minho takes your arm and leads you in the dance. You used to like dancing with him; your and his flow matches perfectly, and the two of you could revive a dying party just by dancing together. Today though, you just aren’t having it.

Minho puts a hand on your shoulder and scoops his hips low earning a cheer from the crowd. You can hear them calling your name, anticipating your response. You look down at Minho and immediately recognize his choice of clothing.

I wonder who’s going to have her heart broken tomorrow, you think with a dry laugh. Minho flinches, recognizing that sound. You take his falter as a chance to fling his arm off of you before walking away.

A chorus of oohs fills the room, and the crowd splits like the Red Sea for you.

You hear your name from his lips again. “Y/N!” It is more strained now than it was last night. Desperate. Defeated.

You gave him some thought after hearing the sincerity in his tone, but you are glad you did not turn around that night when you see him in class with some other girl on his lap. Whatever. He’s dead to you now, so why should you care what he’s doing?

Minho watches as you walk farther and farther from him. He pushes the girl off and continues to stare with narrowed eyes at you as you greet your new seat neighbors.

This isn’t how he predicted you would react. Truthfully, he kind of knew this attempt wouldn’t work. For one, it hadn’t worked once since he first tried it in high school. He thought hanging out with other girls would make him more attractive, more desirable by competition. At least, that’s what some then-college kids told him. Once he started, he just found himself unable to stop. It was a self-feeding cycle, really. Holding onto other girls and charming them numbs the void in his chest, but you ignore him whenever he acts like this which only further widens the gap. 

What is he to do though? This is the only life he knows, and so, it is the life he leads. Not all love stories can end happily.

And his sure doesn’t seem like it is going to. 

Sirens wail in the background. With the amount of girls he’s fooled around with, he kind of had it coming. Minho stares at his wrists, not daring to think, but one thought keeps recurring in his mind: you. He is going to disappoint you yet again. You already hate him, and now you are going to see him handcuffed too.

The cold wind makes him shiver when you, his emergency contact, open the door and step into the station. Your eyes immediately find him, and you make your way over.

“Y/—”

“Are you hurt?” you ask plainly.

Despite your icy tone, those three simple words fill him with a warmth he hasn’t known for a long time.

“I’m okay.” His hands reach forward, wanting to grab yours and keep you with him, but you’ve already walked away to announce your arrival to an officer.

“Miss L/Y Y/N?” a young official greets a little too enthusiastically. She looks familiar, you note.

“Yes, I am she.”

The officer looks pleased by your annoyed attitude towards the defendant. “Mister Lee is here tonight because of an accusation by Miss Choi of assault,” she informs you coyly.

You look at him. “Minho,” you said with a chilled voice. “Is it true?”

“No! Y/N, I wouldn’t—”

“It’s okay. I believe you.”

“Excuse me?” the officer sputters.

“I believe him,” you repeat. “He’s been going out with more people than I have fingers, but he never laid a finger on them.”

“But Y/N, that doesn’t mean he can’t start now,” the officer protests. “You’re his contact, but you hate him now. Surely, he’s changed”

“First of all, it’s Miss L/N to you, Officer” —you read her name tag and pieces begin to fall together from her eagerness to convict Minho to the inkling you felt the moment you saw her— “Yoo. And secondly, is it not against the law for you to be working on a case where your cousin’s the accuser?”

“How did you—!”

“Nothing escapes us Epsilon Phi sisters, even news from other sororities. Besides, Minho never plays with the same girl twice. As expected, this report is filed for an incident two months ago. You, Officer Yoo, knew I was his contact and waited for us to get into yet another fight before having your cousin put in the accusation, didn’t you?”

She scoffs in your face. “That’s a bold accusation from yourself towards law enforcement.”

“Where is the accuser right now? Shouldn’t she be here for interrogation as well?”

“Well she—” the officer looks increasingly flustered. “She needs rest after having to relive the memories of what happened. We’ll call her in tomorrow. Anyway, Mr. Lee Minho, I can hear your testimony now in room #3.”

Minho stands obediently.

“Wait. I request someone else interrogate him,” you object.

“We’re busy right now,” Officer Yoo huffs. “We can’t just let you choose who does the job.”

You cross your arms. “Sure. Interrogate him and have the entire case be nulled after I file a conflict of interest.”

Officer Yoo grits her teeth but returns to her station to call for another officer.

In the meantime, you turn to Minho. “Don’t answer anything you don’t want to, especially if they start leading you on with questions. It’s in your rights to remain silent, alright?”

Minho nods numbly at your words, still confused as to why you are so nice to him. Before he can figure it out though, an older man appears from the back and takes him to an interrogation room.

“Mr. Lee Minho?” 

“Yes.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Chief Jeon. I’m just going to ask you a few questions today; is that alright?”

“Yes.”

The chief nods and pulls out some papers. “Would you mind describing what happened with Miss Choi?”

“Well I was with—” he gestures towards the papers with his accuser’s name on it— “and we were hitting it off. She bought me a couple of drinks and at some point leaned in to kiss me. I realized something at that point, and I stopped her. She got angry, saying how she spent all that cash on alcohol for me, and threatened to accuse me of assault if I didn’t do what she said, but I knew I couldn’t do it.”

“Because of what you realized?” the chief repeats.

“... Yes.”

“And what was it you realized?”

“Do I have to say it?”

“According to the law, no, but if it can help you with your case, you might want to.”

Minho fidgets with his cuffs. “They can’t hear me from outside, right?”

“No. They most certainly cannot.”

And so, Minho tells him.

Minho turns around while the metal bars clang shut behind him. The chief thinks he has a pretty good chance, but due to the gravity of the accusation, they still decided to keep Minho in holding to give the accuser more time to make her case.

You stare at him from the other side, arms crossed. Minho takes the fact that you’re still here at two in the morning as a good sign for him.

“Thanks for being here,” he tries to start a conversation.

“I didn’t really have a choice.” So cold.

“I’ll change my emergency contact.”

“Please do.”

He winces. “Look… Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for insulting your sisterhood and for hurting your Little. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”

He looks at you with those doe-like eyes of his. For once, you don’t feel anything while looking back at them.

“That’s not why I’m mad anymore. In fact, I’m not even mad,” you tell him. “My Little told me what really happened. She told me that she was actually the one who dumped you after you adamantly refused to kiss her. I asked some other girls you’ve seen and they all said the same thing. That’s why I was so confident with the officer earlier. I guess I owe you an apology for getting angry when you weren’t at fault.”

“Then”—he holds out a hand sheepishly— “truce?”

You look at it but keep your arms crossed. “Taking a step back from you has made me see things I wasn’t able to before, Minho, and that’s made me realize how much you’ve changed. You were my friend, my rival— someone who never failed to get on my nerves but also someone I couldn’t go without. But now” —you drop your arms and shake your head— “I can’t even recognize you anymore.”

You take a step back to leave. You’ve done this many times before, like when he stuck a plastic spider down your shirt or when he called you stupid in front of your crush in fifth grade, but something about this time feels different. Something about this time tells him you aren’t turning back around once you left.

A sudden despair grips Minho and he runs into the bars. “Wait!”

You pause, offering him one last second.

“Your Little,” he gasps, “did she tell you why I wouldn’t kiss her?”

You nod. “The others I asked did too. They said you were thinking about some other girl while you were with them.”

“Not ‘some other’ girl. One other girl.”

“I know.” You begin to walk again.

“Then why are you leaving?” He reaches a hand out, trying to grab any part of you. “Stay with me. Please, Y/N, stay.”

You don’t pause a second time. Out of desperation, he cries out, “Y/N, I love you!”

That makes you stop midstep. He holds his breath as you put one foot back then the other next to it to face him. You are so beautiful when you look at him. He melts under your gaze as you focus on him and only him. He’ll cherish you this time when you give him another chance. He’ll quit this playboy lifestyle. He won’t take advantage of your patience anymore. He’ll give you all that his heart has to offer. He’ll make sure you’re the only one in his eyes. He’ll love you. He loves you.

“Minho.” You relax your shoulders and straighten your back. You tilt your head just slightly forward and erase the edge off your tone. “I loved you.”

[miyagihawk]

hi! i absolutely adore your account! if you’re taking requests right now, can i ask for something robby x reader that’s like angsty, but has a sweet ending? anything you feel like writing, i don’t have a specific plot in mind. thank you!!!

thank you for the request love <3

ill wait for you | robby keene x reader

warnings: just swearing :)

summary: robby’s in juvie after the school fight and he doesn’t answer your emails. (robby is your boyfriend, not sam’s)

word count: 1627 

Hi Robby. How are you? I’m sorry, that’s probably a dumb question. I haven’t been able to reach you in a while, I assume you threw away your phone. I heard you stole a van too, huh? Nice. But now that you’re, you know, there, I hope you get to see this. Mr. LaRusso said I could email you and maybe even call if you’re up for it? Only if you want. Let me know.

I miss you. A lot. Look, what went down was not your fault. It was an accident. It could’ve easily been the other way around. I know how hard you can be on yourself and this whole situation is just so fucking shitty. But you’ll get out soon and I’ll be waiting for you.

I’m here, okay Robby? Forever. If you feel lonely, just think of us. Think of how it feels when we’re together and the rest of the world just goes away. We’ll have that soon, alright? You and me against the world, always.

I love you.

-Y/N

-

Hey Robby, it’s been a week since I sent my first email. I hope that you’ve read it, even if you don’t feel like answering. That’s fine and I understand.

School is weird now. They have these security guards at the entrance to check our bags like we’re at the airport. It’s not like they’ll find karate in there, so I don’t get the point.

I get lonely in Physics without you. There’s no one to keep me awake during Mr. Miller’s lectures. I think he misses you too by the way, you’re the smartest person in that class.

I have to go, but I love you and I think of you everyday. Hang in there.

- Y/N

-

Hey. How are you, Robby? I’ve gotta be honest, I’m losing hope that you’re even reading these. I mean, it’s been 10 emails and I would think that you’d at least reply by now?

I’m not mad though, I really don’t know what it’s like to be where you are now. We could call if that’s better? How about this: I’ll schedule for a call tomorrow at 3 and you can pick up if you want.

Miss you,

-Y/N

-

Hello Robby. I want you to know that it’s okay you didn’t want to call. Or that you don’t want to talk.

I love you.

-Y/N

3 months. 30 emails. Deafening silence. After 3 months and 30 emails, you gave up. You figured that there’s no use if he wasn’t answering and that he probably wasn’t even reading what you wrote.

For a while, you’ve been stuck between moving on and waiting for Robby. He practically ghosted you and you don’t know if it means you’ve broken up.

But you also want to be there for him. He has no one, really. And giving up on him would just make you another person who’s disappointed him. It would be shitty of you to leave when he needs you most.

The inner conflict haunts you for the following months, and you decide that you’d just wait until Robby gets out to see what happens.

That day comes sooner than you thought, and the truth you’ve been avoiding is coming at you like a train at full speed.

Mr. LaRusso is the one who lets you know that Robby is out. The car salesman sensei was fond of you, since you hung around the dojo frequently to walk home with Robby after training. He tells you that he doesn’t know where Robby is staying, but that he’ll update you if he hears anything.

The anticipation torments you knowing that you could see him any second, or even maybe never again. The next few days keep you on edge, and you drown yourself in schoolwork as a distraction from the constant turning in your stomach. But still your mind swarms with anxiety about what you’ll say when you see him. If you see him.

It’s been a week after Robby’s release, and you’re walking home from school. You have to pass the Cobra Kai dojo on the way, which always makes your palms sweat. As usual, you put your hood up and keep your eyes ahead.

You take a quick glance at the dojo, then freeze in your tracks. Chills trail up your spine when you meet a pair of emerald eyes. The eyes you love.

For a few seconds you’re both stuck with stares locked on each other, waiting for the other to make the next move. But you’re unprepared. You thought you would have more time to get ready to see him, but the truth is no amount of time would be enough.

Robby’s hair is much shorter and he exudes an aura of exhaustion and pain. He’s different and you can see it even from the good amount of distance between you two.

“Y/N,” he interrupts the silence, and you snap out of the shocked trance you were in.

“Robby,” you echo back with a dry throat. He hesitantly walks towards you with careful steps and with every inch forward, your heart pounds faster.

It almost doesn’t feel real. You haven’t seen his face in only months, but it’s felt like years. And you don’t know how to feel or react. Should you cry? Or smile, or hug him or kiss him or yell at him? All of the conversations you’ve played out in your head to prepare for this moment... you can’t even remember them.

Once he’s in front of you, there’s another awkward minute of quiet and he doesn’t seem to know what to say either. There’s a thick tension in the air, neither of you wanting to address what happened.

“I like your hair,” you break the ice.

“Thanks,” Robby offers a small smile, scratching the back of his neck.

“So... Cobra Kai?” you gesture to the dojo he was just standing in front of. You try your best to not sound judgmental; you feel like you have to be careful with your words as if he’s a stranger.

“I have nowhere to go,” he says dryly, not meeting your gaze.

“You know that’s not true. Mr. LaRusso cares a lot about you. Your dad cares,” you say. Robby flinches at the mention of the two men and you know you’ve struck a nerve.

“They don’t give a shit about me, Y/N. Mr. LaRusso’s the one who put me in that place. And Johnny hates me because I’ve broken his precious new son,” he scoffs and you can hear the hurt in his voice.

“That’s not true. Mr. LaRusso did what was best for you. Do you really wanna be on the run your whole life?” you question, almost scolding him like you’re his mother.

Robby shakes his head. “You don’t know what it was like in there.”

“Yes Robby, I don’t know, because you never answered any of my emails or calls,” you snap, getting frustrated. But immediately you feel guilty. “I’m sorry. I- I was just really worried about you, okay?”

There’s a pause and Robby frowns. “Y/N... I wanted to answer. At one point those emails were the only thing that kept me going. But I wanted you to move on. From me.”

“W-What are you talking about?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

“How was I supposed to let you wait for me all of those months? It’s not right. You deserve the world, Y/N. You’re too good to wait for someone to get out of juvie,” he explains. You search his green eyes and they’re sincere.

You hate it, but you understand. It’s the most Robby thing that could ever be done. Selfless and sacrificing for other people’s happiness, even if it means that he’ll suffer. But he also gave up on you. He took a route to leave you behind, even when he vowed to stay with you forever. You start feeling emotional; the long awaited truth is a lot to take in.

“That isn’t fair. You don’t get to decide for me what I’m “too good for” and just cut me off. You hurt me more than you spared me pain. You broke every promise you made to me,” you pour your heart out.

He thinks for a moment. “I-I’m sorry, I thought it was right. I didn’t want to be selfish and make you put your life on pause for me,” Robby says, his eyes turning glassy like yours.

You don’t even think about it before you get closer to wrap your arms around him. He freezes in momentary surprise, then recovers and embraces you.

Tears trickle down your cheeks before you can stop them, leaving stains on his shirt where you lay your head. His scent, his warmth, his hold on you; it’s all overwhelming and you missed everything about it. You miss him.

“I love you Robby. And I don’t care what you think, I would’ve waited for you for forever. You deserve the world too,” you mumble into his chest, hugging him tighter.

You pull away for a moment to hold his face in your hands and look at him. It’s like you can see his guard go down as he takes in your words. “I love you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You don’t answer, you just pull his neck down to meet your lips with his. As you kiss him, your heart swells with a joy you haven’t felt in months. The feeling of being strangers is a distant memory because Robby is yours again and kissing him reminds you that no amount of time apart could make you strangers.

“You and me against the world,” he says, repeating the words you wrote to him.

[alliedbiscuit]

msr fic / s7 post-closure but pre-all things / wc: 3398

Scully takes Maggie out for a birthday dinner, and you'll never guess who they run into.

************

“So, how are feeling about dessert?” the waiter asks hopefully.

Maggie Scully scoffs. “Oh, no. I couldn’t eat another bite. Maybe just a cup of coffee? Decaf, please.”

“Mom, are you sure? You should get dessert,” Dana Scully prods, stopping herself short before she could let it slip, “It’s your birthday!” The last gift her mother would appreciate is a gaggle of underpaid waiters singing some public-domain-compliant version of a birthday song while the whole restaurant turns its attention toward her. Like mother, like daughter.

Well, the daughter made an exception and found that kind of thing charming exactly once. But at least she got a nice keychain out of it. All her mother would get was humiliation and a chocolate lava cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves to fetch their after dinner coffees, Maggie reveals her true intentions.

“I was thinking we could go to that ice cream parlor down the street. If I’m going to indulge, I think I want a hot fudge sundae. Or maybe we could split a banana split?”

“Or you could get a hot fudge sundae and I could get a banana split, and we could split both,” Scully suggests.

“See, that’s why you work for the FBI.”

“Dessert Conflict Resolution was part of my training at Quantico.”

Both Scullys giggle.

“Does Fox have the same specialty? Or is that what you bring to the team?”

“Mulder’s dessert strategy is just to eat everything and then swim a mile and run five the next day. No, he’s a Takeout Menu Marksman, though. He knows where to order from and what to order so it travels the best and doesn’t get cold and congealed by the time it arrives. Might sound like a trivial skill, but it’s a lifesaver on movie night.”

Maggie continues smiling but cocks her head slightly. Dana realizes why almost instantly.

“You have movie night?”

“It’s not a set thing or anything. We just…if we’re not busy with a case.”

“You just watch movies? As coworkers?”

“As friends.”

“Just friends?”

Dana lets out a long sigh as she stares her mother down. Her mother, maintaining that gentle yet challenging grin. Dana considers her response carefully. She could offer a simple yes because that is the fact of the matter. They are just friends. She could criticize the wording choice. “Just” friends? Why does it have to be “just” friends? As if friendship isn’t somehow enough or isn’t valuable?

She could realize it’s her mother’s birthday and she’s the only other Scully woman left to confide in about matters of the heart, and although she doesn’t want to bring up the New Year’s kiss because she still doesn’t really know what it meant, maybe they both need this little gift of honesty, filled with tempered excitement and promise.

“For now,” Dana Scully finally admits.

Maggie’s grin grows as Scully just shakes her head and manages to keep her slight eye roll from reaching embarrassed teenager level. The waiter does bail her out a bit by choosing that moment to deliver their coffees.

“How is Fox doing? After his mother…” Maggie trails off, but her daughter knows not to expect any more specifics.

“Better? I mean, as well as can be expected. The thing is, right after that, he found out some more about his sister. About what happened to her. It was just so much all at once. I was really worried…”

Maggie reaches across the table to lay a hand on hers.

“But, it was almost like he was ready for it. He finally had some answers. Like it brought him some peace.”

“That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. He needed that.”

“We all do.”

*************

Maggie is the one to spot him first as they’re heading for the door.

“Is that- is that Fox?” she asks her daughter.

“What? No, he wouldn't…” Dana trails off as she looks straight ahead to where her mother was indicating and confirms that it is indeed Fox Mulder, standing with his hands in his pockets and his eyes trained to the floor as he appears to be waiting near the vestibule for the restrooms.

“Mulder?” Scully questions as she approaches, her voice giving away her confusion and growing concern.

His head darts up in surprise, but a beaming smile of recognition quickly overtakes his face.

“Hey, Scully! Mrs. Scully, it’s so nice to see you!”

“You too, Fox,” Maggie kindly replies, although a quick glance to her daughter confirms her suspicion that Dana is still very confused by his presence.

“Did you…did you need something?” She suddenly feels silly for presuming that he must have come there with urgent news or a case or something, but why else would Fox Mulder be at Petrino’s on a Saturday night? Did his informants trade in clandestine meetings in parking garages for family-style Italian?

“Hmm?” Mulder asks.

“You didn’t come here to find me? I told you I was bringing my mom here for her birthday, didn’t I?” He didn’t look like he had rushed to the restaurant from the office or his apartment as she had originally assumed. He had clearly shaved and combed his hair nicely. He wore an olive green sweater with dark blue jeans and a black wool pea coat rather than his leather jacket. He had definitely made an effort.

“You did, but I thought you were going out tomorrow night on her actual birthday. Happy birthday, by the way, Mrs. Scully.”

“Thank you, Fox. I’m going to have lunch with some ladies from church after mass tomorrow, so I asked Dana if we could do Saturday night instead.”

“Ah. What a weird coincidence then. I can’t believe we didn’t see you at all during dinner.”

We.

Oh God.

Mulder was on a date.

Mulder was on a date in this restaurant on the night he thought Scully wasn’t going to be there. Mulder was on a date right after Scully had confessed to her mother (and herself) that their “just friends” status was in the process of changing. Mulder was on a date right after he’d been through so much pain but seemed to come out lighter and more open and he wanted to share it with someone…who wasn’t Dana Scully.

“So, you’ve already eaten then?” Maggie asks since her daughter appears unable to form a coherent statement at the moment.

“Yeah, we just finished. I’m just waiting for her…” he seems to trail off just to motion towards the restroom rather than say anything indelicate, but then he notices Maggie’s poorly masked look of concern toward Dana, and then he notices Dana’s completely unmasked look of shock.

And then he gets it.

“Oh, no! It’s not…I want you to meet her,” Mulder insists as he grabs a hold of both of Scully’s elbows and then glances anxiously toward the restroom door.

Dana Scully looks like she might be ill.

Thankfully Mulder only stammers a moment longer until the restroom door opens and he finds reprieve when a tall, thin woman appearing to be in her mid-60s walks through the door.

“Aunt Helen,” Mulder calls.

Somehow Scully’s eyes manage to get even wider as some of the color returns to her face.

“Aunt Helen, there are a few people I’d really like you to meet. This is my partner, Dana Scully, and this is her mother, Margaret Scully.”

Aunt Helen smiles widely in recognition, first shaking Maggie’s hand and then Dana’s. “It is such a pleasure to meet you both. I’ve heard such wonderful things.”

She lingers with her hand holding Dana’s while she says this, and the younger Scully is left blushing. She hazards a look at Mulder, but he doesn’t look embarrassed by this revelation. He holds her gaze with nothing but pride.

“This is my aunt, Helen Briggs. She’s my mom’s sister. She’s visiting for the weekend from Charlotte.”

They all kind of marvel over the fact that they were in the same restaurant and what a coincidence and oh, we were seated near the back bar, that must be why we didn’t see you and Scully is just starting to feel her pulse return to normal as Aunt Helen laments not having a chance to talk with the Scullys.

“Well, Dana and I skipped dessert so we could go to The Big Dipper for some ice cream. Would you two like to join us?”

“Oh, that would be lovely. As long as we’re not intruding,” says Aunt Helen.

“Not at all,” Scully assures her. “There is one catch, though.”

“It’s not real ice cream. It’s that Tofutti nonsense, isn’t it?” Mulder groans.

“It better not be,” Maggie insists. “I don’t know how she eats that stuff.”

Scully ignores her mother and her partner’s bad mouthing of her frozen treats as she returns her attention to Aunt Helen.

“I’m afraid if you want to come along, you will have to reveal a few good Young Mulder stories. And by ‘a few,’ I mean as many as you’ve got. And by ‘good,’ I mean the more embarrassing the better.”

“I’ll start thinking now,” Aunt Helen laughs.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant,” Mulder says regretfully.

***********

They’ve just sat down to a small, round table for four with their ice cream when Mulder stands up to get them all more napkins, and Aunt Helen retrieves a small, rectangular piece of paper from her purse that she then deftly slides to Dana.

“Oh my god!” Scully exclaims with joy.

Staring back at her from the paper is a very young Fox Mulder. She guesses he must be around 8 or 9 in the school photo. His long, sandy brown hair falls just above his eyebrows. He doesn’t have his distinctive nose yet, but his bottom lip is already a little pouty. The real give away is the eyes. He’s grinning for the camera, but his eyes still have that soulfulness, that slight sadness.

She’s surprised. She knows she shouldn’t be. His eyes didn’t suddenly change when Samantha was taken. His eyes were probably always like that.

But she had always assumed that the great tragedy had flipped a switch for Young Fox Mulder. That before that single event, he had certainly been a perfectly happy child. Funny and athletic, popular for sure. But the humor developed as a defense mechanism later in life. And the sports were a great physical release as well as an excuse to be out of the house as much as possible. She didn’t actually know what he was like before, but now that she thought about it, home life was probably never all that great if it eventually led to a father sacrificing one child and leaving the other to always live with the guilt and loss.

It was very possible that Fox Mulder had always been a little boy with a lot on his mind.

In contrast, present day, adult Fox Mulder looks like he doesn’t have a care in the world as he returns with extra napkins, ready to tuck into his chocolate peanut butter ice cream in a waffle cone – that is until he realizes what his friend and partner Dana Scully is looking at.

“Oh come on. I was gone for thirty seconds, and you have the visual aids out.”

Scully continues to beam as Maggie finally gets a glimpse of the photo in her hand.

“Oh, Fox!”

“Okay,” Mulder said exasperatedly. “Does this meet your embarrassment quota?” he asks, looking pointedly at Scully.

“Not even close! This isn’t embarrassing. It’s adorable!”

Mulder rolls his eyes but can’t hide his bashful grin at her comment.

“It’s only fair, Fox. I know you’ve seen family photos of Dana at my house,” Mrs. Scully says, sounding like a mother well practiced in settling disputes between children.

“Just a couple. I do like that high school graduation picture, though. I still don’t know how you kept your cap on with all that hair.”

“That was the style back then. Everybody teased their hair and used a ton of hairspray.”

“I thought it might be a religious thing at Catholic school. The higher the hair, the closer to God,” Mulder teases.

Maggie and Aunt Helen chuckle, though the latter gives him a good-natured swat on the arm in admonishment.

“See, this is what I need, though. I need something from the teen years. That’s peak embarrassment fodder,” Scully says.

“If you ask our colleagues, I think my peak embarrassment fodder would come from about 1991 to present,” Mulder points out.

Aunt Helen just looks slightly regretful. “I’m afraid I don’t have many stories from those years, Dana.”

Mulder makes eye contact with Aunt Helen. “You didn’t miss much,” he insists. She looks like she wants to debate him, but he just places a hand on hers reassuringly, and they seem to make a silent agreement to not argue the point any further.

Mulder had never really mentioned any other family before. She knew his grandparents had all passed before she met him, but she had assumed, just like with everything else, that any other extended family connections had disappeared along with Samantha. That no one would know how to comfort and console The Mulders in a situation like that, with no explanation.

His aunts and uncles must have had questions, probably even had their own theories. Did his mother’s side suspect his father’s involvement, or did his father’s side blame his mother somehow? Did any of them blame…no, she couldn’t go down that route. Besides, did anyone ever suspect horrific things like that before the days of cable news and supermarket tabloids?

The point is, it was a tense situation, so Scully assumed they had all done what wealthy white people in places like Martha’s Vineyard and Boston and Raleigh did with any uncomfortable subject – they avoided it completely.

And that meant avoiding the little boy with a lot on his mind as he became a teenager with even more on his mind.

Scully had accompanied Mulder to a small burial service for his mother in Raleigh a few months ago. It was just the service. No gathering or dinner after, or at least not one that Mulder told her about. The attendees at the service were all pretty spread out, not much mingling. Again, it was another sudden loss shrouded in mystery. They all avoided particulars as much as they could.

Scully didn’t remember seeing Aunt Helen that day, but maybe she was there and just couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Maybe she wasn’t there because she couldn’t bring herself to go and then regretted it. Dana Scully didn’t know, and it didn’t actually matter. The point is that she’s here now. And that’s exactly what Mulder’s look of reassurance and acceptance seems to say.

It seems to help her perk up because she offers playfully, “Oh, what about that summer on Quonochontaug? I think you were 9 or so, and you were collecting leaves for one of your Indian Guide badges.”

“Oh god!”

“I’m hooked already. Not to jump ahead, but please tell me there’s poison ivy involved,” Scully says gleefully.

Aunt Helen’s bark of laughter and Mulder’s exaggerated eye roll are all the confirmation she needs.

“It was heavily involved! But that’s not the worst part. While he was working on his Leaf Collecting badge, he also earned credit towards his Wildlife badge when he came across a skunk in the woods.”

“No!” Scully shouts.

“Ivyed and skunked at the same time,” Mulder admits.

“Oh you poor thing,” Maggie adds sympathetically, but with barely contained laughter.

“He had to jump right from a tomato juice bath for the skunk smell…”

“Which didn’t work!”

“…into an oatmeal bath for the itching.”

“Which worked better, but I still smelled like a Grateful Dead concert.”

Both Scullys are full on giggling at this point.

“Do you remember what Grandpa Ralph said when he walked in and saw you and mom dunking me in a tub of oatmeal?” Mulder asks.

Aunt Helen pitches her voice deeper and amps up her Southern twang, “Why don’t cha dip him in some egg and flour next? We toss him in the frying pan, we got supper! We’re havin’ Fried Fox tonight!”

Now they’re all in hysterics. Even the man who usually hates his given name can’t help but laugh along, especially when it makes his lovely company so happy.

*****************

Scully enters the basement office Monday morning to find Mulder already there, flipping through an open drawer in the filing cabinet.

“Good morning,” she says cheerfully.

He looks up and smiles. “Good morning. Long time no see.”

“How was the rest of your weekend? Did you guys do any sightseeing or anything?”

“No, we just had a late breakfast yesterday before I took her to the airport, but it was good to catch up some more. She told me to thank you again for letting us tag along for ice cream. It was really nice.”

“It was,” Scully agrees.

Mulder appears to be considering something for a moment before he crosses over to the desk and picks up a small envelope.

“She also told me to give this to you,” he says almost bashfully, extending the envelope in Scully’s direction. “She told me I couldn’t look inside, and I didn’t. But I think I know what’s in there, and if I’m right, you don’t have to keep it. You can just leave it here on the desk.”

Well, now she’s intrigued. Scully opens the envelope to find a small handwritten note at the top.

“I thought you might like these. I have plenty more too, if you’d ever like to see them or want any more stories. Please don’t be a stranger.”

Scully lifts up the note to see the remaining contents inside and finds a small stack of photographs, a mixture of more school photos along with a few wallet-sized family portraits and a couple candids taken on the beaches of the Vineyard or Rhode Island, she can’t tell. But she sees the same set of eyes in all of them.

She looks back to read the rest of the note.

“I’m so glad I got to meet you, Dana. Take care!”

Below Aunt Helen’s elegant signature, she has also written her home address and phone number. Scully will have to call and thank her.

“She tried to give some to me,” Mulder explains, “but I didn’t really want…and like I said, you don’t have to…”

“No, I’d like to keep them,” Dana insists.

Mulder lets her statement hang in the air for a moment, but he can’t help but diffuse it.

“You just want more blackmail material.”

“Something like that,” Scully says teasingly, but there’s no bite behind it.

“I knew I should’ve picked a different restaurant.”

She chuckles lightly as she shuffles the photos into a neat stack to place back in the envelope, thinking that this is the point where they get back to work. Mulder stays standing in front of her and appears to be considering something again. Does he have another envelope that he’s afraid to give her?

“You know it was pure luck that we ended up at Petrino’s the same night as you. I actually gave Aunt Helen a few options and let her choose. I was pushing more for that Thai place in Arlington, just off Old Dominion. The one that’s been there forever,” Mulder explains.

“Oh, the one with the secret menu? I’ve still never been there. Can’t say I’m surprised that Aunt Helen wasn’t up for Thai food, though.”

“Yeah. Fair point,” Mulder nods for a moment too long before continuing. “Would you like to go there sometime? Like this Saturday? With me?”

Scully slowly looks up from the envelope to see Mulder’s face because in all matters, other than the divine, Dana Scully needs to see to believe. And the slightly nervous yet gentle grin that she finds allows her to believe it to be true – Fox Mulder has just asked her out on a real date.

“I would like that,” Scully says gently.

“Good. You wanna say 7:30? Or we can always figure out time later,” Mulder states, aiming for practicality to keep him from grinning like a complete idiot. He ends up grinning like a moderate idiot, but he’s okay with that.

“Sounds good.”

Yep, Scully will definitely have to call Aunt Helen and thank her.

[eliteprepsat]

You should be thinking about your college application essays now. Like, right now.

No pressure—think of it more like an invitation.

Why start now? Because whether you know it or not, you’ve already started writing those essays.

That might seem like a strange idea. Let me explain:

Your college application essays will ask you to tell a story (or stories) about your life. Many students struggle to find an angle worth developing in their essays. I’ve heard a number of students say something to the effect of, “I don’t think there’s anything interesting about me, so what can I write about?”

But that’s never true: everyone has a compelling story to tell. The issue is not that high school students don’t have meaningful life experience, as many adults might think. It’s that most teenagers have not yet figured out how to view their experiences as meaningful.

So, when I say it’s never too early to begin thinking about your college application essays, what I really mean is: you should start thinking about how to tell a story out of your day-to-day life.

Or, better yet, you should start thinking about how to make your day-to-day life worthy of a story. In order to do that, you have to fill your days with meaning.

What are you doing right now, or tomorrow, or this weekend that will help you create a compelling story about yourself? Think about the next few months or the next few years as a chapter in a book. What actions can you take to create an inspiring beginning, middle, and end?

No matter what you think about your day-to-day life right now, you can do this. In fact, you can do it really, really well.

Consider how you would answer the third Personal Insight Question from the University of California:

❓WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IS YOUR GREATEST TALENT OR SKILL? HOW HAVE YOU DEVELOPED AND DEMONSTRATED THAT TALENT OVER TIME?

I had one student a couple years ago who was really struggling to pick the right PIQs (if you’re applying to UC schools, you’ll need to complete 4 of the 8 options). Over the course of several weeks, we spoke for hours about his interests, hobbies, future goals, family life, extracurricular activities—nearly everything under the sun.

When we got to this question, I asked him if he had any special talents.

His answer? Blowing bubbles.

Not with bubble gum. Not with those bubble toys for kids. His talent was blowing bubbles with his very own saliva.

Yuck. Obviously, he couldn’t write about that—or so he thought.

We talked about how he started blowing bubbles, if there were patterns to when he blew bubbles, and how people in his life reacted to his bubbles. This is where a story started to emerge. He had real, convincing accounts of how this seemingly silly (and pretty gross) habit made people laugh and deflated conflicts.

His response to this PIQ was probably his best because it was filled with details about using this seemingly meaningless talent to help others. It was funny, it was relatable, it was detailed, and it was really, really compelling.

When this student blew bubbles, he was unwittingly writing his college application essays. It took time, creativity, and serious reflection to craft a narrative out of those bubbles, but he did it.

What will make your job easier is developing meaningful habits today. Start by reading some of these personal statements, which are filled with beautiful insights and turns of phrase that might help you when you sit down to write.

And then, get working toward—and thinking about—how to craft your own story.

[beann-e]

I have a head cannon that bakugou would not be sweet to who he liked or dated and instead deny it and hate on them even more.

The reason being because he doesn’t really understand feelings so, when he’s talking badly about you he just assumes it’s normal and a bit funny at the lies he’s spitting that his just continuously friends are eating up.

he’s been talking bad about people for years so , who cares if your his s/o your no acceptation all people are equal in his mind. Now lemme explain please fall in line and hold a buddys hand kids we’re going on a trip inside my brain

It wasn’t easy getting the spiky haired male to ask you out honestly if someone asked you , which they’d never dare since they’d never know per bakugous request him saying it’s not their business , how you two got together you would shrug your shoulders and walk off.

It wasn’t that it was a boring day or a simple question that you supplied the answer for. It was that it was unusual.

You’d been at quirk practice after school in the gym like you’d usually do only this time bakugou made his way over to you.

You’d been seeing him more often when you were in the gym and you weren’t sure why until he explained that he was interested in your workout routine saying you two could have a contest to see who’s was more grueling

It seemed like fun so like any competitive person you agreed. Only for him to tap out on day two your laughs swirling around the gym as he fought so hard to say he only lost because he just didn’t like how the air would hit his ass crack anytime he did your little girly squats you’d wrote down for him.

You couldn’t say you weren’t both confused and happy when he let the air calm down before he spoke “ i’m kind of conflicted “ his eyes coming up to look at yours from the floor “ could you maybe help me“

“ of course what’s up “

“ i’m at a standstill “

“ more like a sit still “ you joked eyes peering down at his straight face “ yeah ok let’s imagine that didn’t happen —continue “

“ uh yeah anyways — i’m at a standstill because honestly I like your shit workout “ he shook his head to the floor “ but I also like you so I find myself thinking if I couldn’t get through your workout even though I enjoyed it so much could I “

his voice rasped shakily “ could I get through a relationship with you even though I like you even more “

truthfully you’d wish you’d said no because right now you wanted nothing more than to just be friends with the male sitting across the room from you.

It’s not that you didn’t like him of course you did he was hot , smart, and felt strongly about his goals but, he was an asshole.

Not in the aspect of hes just mean and rude but he was an all around prick as he laughed with his friends from across the room.

Their voices only getting louder as you sat alone a few seats away from them trying to complete some work on your desk you’d just been given “ dude gotta admit class 1-A’s got some hot chicks “

“ yeah honestly minas top three if we’re being truthful “

“mina dude come on have you seen jirou “

“ don’t even get me started “ denkis voice came out in a soft groan “ god I would— “

“ yeah yeah all that jazz but “ seros voice came out soft. His hand coming up to point at the seat as you sat in with your head down eyes furrowed in anger at the math on your paper that wasn’t syncing up with your brain right now

“ y/n “ his fist tightened as he groaned “ y/n could get it on all accounts — the car “

“ you don’t have a car “ denkis voice came out as sero continued

“ the school bathroom “

“ but which one ? because one of you would have to go in the wrong sex’s unless its a handicap or family stal-“

“the fucking dorms “

“ y/n ? “ kirishima asked quickly “ y/n l/n ? “

“ fuck yeah “

“ hmm “ kirishima studied you before shaking his head “ honestly kinda hot never really paid attention to that stuff before though “

“ what the fuck how can’t you “

“ uh i’m more so a personality guy “

“ so by personality would you fuck em ‘ “

“ not to be vulgar but of course “ his answer taking no time “ y’know how fun they’d be in a relationship though not just with sex ? imagine cuddles—fuck —what about cuddle monster y/n maybe ? god that’d be so hot “

denki getting restless as he held his thoughts in from the other males. His mind spazzing before finally getting to speak “ i’d fuck her too “ he yelled everyone’s eyes going sharp on the boy before he coughed “ id rock it too — we’re talking about getting mullets “

“ oh boys that’d be kinda hot “ you said laughing sarcastically sero turning to you smiling softly “ oh yeah on who in particular “

“ mm totally blondie over there “

“ the fuck ? “ his eyes shot away from denkis and moved to yours anger pouring through his gaze making you jerk back a little in surprise “ the hell you mean i’d look hot “

your eyebrows creased “ well because I — you do you would “

“ don’t go talking out of your ass you hear me—shit people like you don’t deserve to talk to anyone about looks “ your mouth went dry at his lazer stare.

His lips curling up into a smirk before he shook his head “ these assholes are talking about fucking you yknow “ he whispered to you “ you gonna let em ? you gonna let em right? because that’s the only attention you’d ever get right “

“ bakubro hold up chill out “

“ yeah bakubro chill out “ you said your gaze wavering from the hard one you’d had when you felt the heat radiating off of him no comfort coming from him to you only confusing you more. Had you two been in a secret argument that you knew nothing about

“ whatever “ he leaned back in his chair as the class went back to what they were doing your hands gripping the pencil when the class got even louder but you only searching for your boyfriends voice easily drowning out the others

“ i’d never fuck “ your heart broke at the deep voice youd identified

“ dude seriously come on with the lies —fucking beautiful “

“ correctomundo my friend their absolutely stunning “

his laugh ripping through their claims hand jerking back to point at you “ you think their beautiful much less hot ? “

“ yeah you don’t ? “ denki spat all of them looking at the boy like he was crazy for enjoying this obviously racy topic right now much less taking the wrong side of the debate

“ I literally just sat here and said I wouldn’t fuck em’ pokémon —so you can guess what that correlates to “

“ hey dude why’re you being sucha a dick —the personality’s top tier even if your stupid enough to think their not at least hot“ kirishima putting the ending words in quotation marks honestly a bit upset with his friend

“ hey watch it your over here defending an extra like your gonna make moves on em “ he laughed “ I advise otherwise “

you let out a sigh thinking he’d finally stopped acting the way he was. Your mind preparing to only give him the silent treatment for today and then tomorrow peppering him with kisses until he laughed and apologized for his words

Heart only being snatched away from your body when you heard his deep vibrating voice cut through the room “ probably gonna give you a rash from all the shit that’s on their mouth all the time “

it’s just lipgloss.

Lipgloss bakugou bought you packs of earlier this week after he swore he loved the taste and scent.

moving to wipe at it gently with the sleeve of your outfit him still going causing tears to start building up in your eyes “ bet the bitch doesn’t even shower —had em’ over for a project last night had to wash my sheets and blanket —took hours last night “

“ oh “ denki let out “ I was a bit confused when I saw you at the laundry room at 3 in the morning.

Tears blurring your vision as you thought about his earlier words when he’d given you your favorite sweater of his after saying he’d washed it for you because he knew you wouldn’t do it yourself because in his words ‘ you would never wash it without his help because you were a creep and didn’t want to erase his smell or some shit ‘

“ yeah —smelled so bad im telling you stay away you don’t wanna ask em’ out “

you moved to grab your phone as he kept talking you typing out a message as best as you could before hitting send. His hand moving off the desk and going in his pants pocket to pull his phone out keeping it hidden under the table eyes trailing over the screen

Firefighter >3

baby are we arguing

if your mad at me please just tell me don’t just talk shit about me in front of your friends

him locking his phone and placing it on his desk before you typed out one more message him letting out a sigh as he grabbed for it again

firefighter >3

if you keep going we’re over

“ but imagine whoever bags them apart from bakugou at least since we all know he’s all anti hot y/n “

“ they’d be so lucky “

“ yeah right “ he spoke lowly almost trying to hide his voice from you eyes glued to his phone “ wouldn’t dare “

“ wouldnt dare what bakugou “

“ oh wouldnt dare be —-be lucky “ he locked his phone again “ feel bad for the person dating them all the shit they gotta go through put up with , claims they make through message and not with real words, being too much of a pussy to speak up for themselves“

he shook his head softly eyes twitching “ you wouldn’t put up with that —you couldn’t put up with that your not built for it you gotta have tough skin y’know like me “

he licked his lips moving to sit up straighter when hearing his phone vibrate “ don’t uh “

firefighter >3

one more bakugou

one more bakugou katsuki and were over

his eyes darting over to yours before his eyebrows furrowed and body shook in anxiousness he couldn’t figure out what to do.

He was an asshole you knew this so why the fuck were you being such a crybaby now? did he pick the wrong person to date he thought you were strong

He genuinely just wanted to keep these creeps away from what’s his by scaring them off he wasn’t doing anything wrong? well at least in his eyes

He moved to talk again trying his best to string together a nice sentence “ just don’t uh ask —ask em’ out —-their utter dog shit when it comes to relationships leave it to someone who can handle that y’know “

he relaxed into his chair at his victory when he watched you throw your phone to the table and fix your skirt and standup. Him sighing out when you picked up your stuff to leave “ thank all might “ he whispered head shooting to lean back against his desk chair and look up at the sky blood running cold when his phone vibrated against the table

firefighter >3

all your shits gonna be outside my dorm door. So you might want to come collect it before I have half and half lighting campfires tonight

y’know since i’m such a shit person —gotta hope your bestie deku can give me some after school lessons on personalities. He’s so sweet I bet he’ll fix me right up

screw you katsuki see you in hell

“ the —the fuck what did —the hell did I do wrong “ he screamed when he saw you slam the classroom door after flicking him off

his friends eyes moving from the door to bakugous phone that he’d thrown on the table.

Todorokis eyes going wide when he read his stupid nickname given to him by the steamy male “ I —I uh“ he coughed “ I think i’m gonna go help y/n since their now single—don’t want em’ getting hurt with amateur fire starters again when i’m right here “

his stone face peered down at the red faced boy “ I mean that is ok with you bakugou seeing as though you two were most likely in a relationship by the messages before today “

“ you asshole did you go through me and my s/o’s messages “

“ judging by the series of recent text I don’t believe that’s the case for you two anymore “ he reached to grab his backpack saying a formal goodbye before he spoke “ I feel like i’m needed by a very —very perfectly intelligent unshitty person right now “

seros voice coming out softly as he let bakugous phone fall to the table disappointment in his eyes “ look uh —dude you didn’t have to mess your relationship up just to go against us ? “ he winced at the claim“ honestly you could’ve stayed quiet the whole time —it’s not like we agreed with you anyways “

bakugou leaned back in his chair anger swirling in his stomach as he felt his body sweat at the new heat spreading throughout his whole body.

How the hell did he mess up where the hell did he mess up he explained to you he wasn’t gonna treat you any differently than any other extra here and that went for basic conversations too

Maybe he went a bit far with the dont date em ‘ that was probably it you didn’t like how he said don’t date you because he was the only one who could handle you right ?

He shook his head a bit confused you just wanted him to say that you could handle yourself and didn’t need him right ?

So , why the hell did he feel like he’d done something wrong he wasn’t stupid but he just wasn’t well versed in feelings. He already didn’t know how to handle his own so how was he expected to handle another persons.

To him his words were normal he talked about all people like this hell, he bullied deku for 3 years going as far as to make a special nickname for him

that wasn’t even the worse he could’ve done and you knew that so why was he in trouble and worrying about Icy hot taking his place

He was honestly confused?

Could words really be that hurtful?

could his words really be that hurtful ?

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (February 13/2021) - Ranboo and the Crimson

As Captain Puffy and the Eggpire race to gain Technoblade’s favor, Ranboo finds himself caught in the middle of a conflict once more. Ranboo has his own encounter with the Crimson and makes new plans for the future.

Is history doomed to repeat itself?

---

VOD Links:

Foolish Gamers

Captain Puffy

Technoblade

Ranboo

---

- Technoblade logs in. He’s confused by the changes at his home, including the fence and the foxes.

- Puffy logs on. She has a gift for Ranboo. She wants to get him a replacement pet.

- Ranboo shows Techno his renovations and also his bed duplication skills.

- Techno shows Ranboo the incredible Note that Puffy left. This changes everything.

- Techno reads Tommy’s letter. Right as he reads “we could all die tomorrow,” they spot Badboyhalo in corrupted form staring right at them in the distance. They run into the cabin to hide.

- Ranboo disappears into the void of logging out to avoid killing Steve.

- Bad meets Techno at the door. Bad’s heard rumors that Techno’s received correspondence. Techno shows him the Note.

- Bad mentions the Egg. He suggests they go on a roadtrip to see this new landmark.

- Techno brings Steve with him.

- Captain Puffy goes down into the Egg Room.

- She takes a trip up to the surface to explore around and see just how much the Vines have covered everything.

- Techno and Bad pass the prison, but Techno doesn’t know what it is.

- Bad suggests they take a look at L’manhole. He knows Techno’s not the biggest fan of governments. They stare down into the crater. 

- Puffy goes back into the Egg Room. She thinks Bad might have intercepted her note somehow, but she doesn’t think Techno will fall for it.

- Bad suspects they’re being followed. This berry bush wasn’t here earlier, was it?

- Puffy hides in the Egg Room with a plan to interrupt the conversation at the perfect moment.

- Bad brings Techno to the Egg, and Techno hears its whispers.

- Apparently the Egg is an influencer and has its own Instagram and TikTok account. In fact, it just uploaded its first TikTok.

- Techno hears the Egg’s voice again.

“You’re familiar...Do I know you...?”

- Puffy interrupts. Bad explains to Techno that the Egg has an objective. He tries to argue that Techno’s not a fan of governments, and the Egg can help him achieve his goals.

- Techno asks if the Eggpire is a government. Bad tries to explain himself. It’s not very effective.

“Quick question. If it’s an Egg...what’s gonna hatch out of it?”

- Bad says that isn’t important. He says the Egg can help Techno achieve anything he wants.

“I already do achieve everything I want.”

- Is there nothing that Techno could possibly want that the Egg could help him get?

- Techno says he hears a lot of voices already. The Egg is just another one.

The Egg speaks again as Bad threatens Techno. 

“I will defeat you.”

- Bad finds Ranboo in the water pool. Bad asks if Ranboo hears anything.

The Egg shouts harshly.

“I hate you...HATCH ME.”

- Bad tries to tempt Ranboo to the Egg as Techno tries to tempt him away with carrots.

The Egg whispers.

“Tell me what you want, Technoblade. I will give it you.”

- Bad takes Ranboo, Techno and Puffy to the Meeting Room. Bad says the Egg made Techno a very good offer. Anything he wants. His heart’s desire.

The Egg has only one goal. It wants everything. It will let Techno keep his things as long as Techno loves it in return.

- Not only can the Egg let them keep their things, but it can give them more things. Techno says, though, that he’s one of the wealthiest people on the server and doesn’t need anything more.

“What about you, Ranboo? What do you want?”

“To not be involved, honestly.”

“Well...the Egg wants you to be involved, Ranboo. I’d go so far as to say the Egg needs you, Ranboo.”

- Bad points out Techno wouldn’t want anything to happen to Ranboo, would he? Techno points out that Bad is out-numbered.

- Bad pearls out of the room as a fight breaks out. In the chaos, Ranboo falls down into the hole.

- Techno throws down a trident. Ranboo’s overwhelmed, he says he’s started hearing things. They throw him pearls and he pearls out.

- Ranboo only has a throwing trident. Techno tells him to throw it at Bad and Ranboo says “I...can’t.”

- Ranboo says the Egg told him something. 

- They head back to the Nether but Steve falls and they have to rescue him. As they do so, Ranboo asks Techno about something. Who are the voices he hears, exactly?

Techno tells him that instead of one voice, he just hears a whole crowd of them.

- Ranboo confesses that he hears Dream’s voice. Whereas Techno’s voices can give helpful tips, Ranboo says his voice tells him bad things. Whenever Techno sees him walking around acting differently, that’s his Enderwalk state. 

And the Dream voice tells Ranboo things he did. It’s the link between those two states.

- Puffy hopes that she can defeat the Egg with Techno’s help and gets two pet sheep -- Ramboo and Lamboo -- for Ranboo.

- Ranboo finds the gift Puffy left for him later, though only Ramboo made it.

- Ranboo heads to the Dream SMP mainland and explores around, seeing the growth of the Vines.

- Ranboo goes back to the Egg with the goal of confirming that he heard nothing. Should he destroy it? What would happen if he destroys it? What would happen to everyone under its control? Would they...die?

- Ranboo destroys that it would be better to just keep things the way they are, and goes to leave.

The Crimson whispers.

“Traitor.”

“What did you just call me? Say it again. What did you just call me? You do know that that’s...you know that’s not true. Say it again. Say it again, I dare you.”

The Crimson whispers.

“Traitor.”

“No, that’s not true. No, that’s not true. How dare you call me that."

The Crimson replies.

“You helped Dream.”

“No, I’m not, are you kidding me?! ...This is just like the Dream voice! This isn’t...this isn’t real, no. Right? The Egg voice isn’t real, I don’t think...right?”

“Waterfall” from Undertale starts playing.

“You’re just trying to make me believe something that isn’t true at all, right?...Say it again. Say it again.”

“Traitor.”

“To who? To what? Why do you only say these vague responses? Why do you say these vague things, just tell me. Why, how...just tell me. ‘Cause obviously you know something that I don’t, right?”

“Traitor.”

“Don’t you dare. Say that one more time and see what happens!”

He holds the hoe.

“I could destroy you right now! ... I’m not the one that relies on a group of other people to get you to spread, alright? I’m not the one that relies on others. I don’t do that. I don’t like relying on others. Because whenever I rely on others, they hurt me. So I’m not doing it again."

The Crimson shouts.

“Don’t trust anyone.”

“Why? What do you mean? Wait, what do you mean? Why? Why? I know that, I don’t do that already, I don’t...I know that I don’t do that already, I...okay. Um...I already don’t do that, why are you restating that fact?”

“I will find a way to get rid of you. I could get rid of you right now, but I don’t know the effects it’ll have on other people. Because I don’t trust people...but no one deserves to die, here.”

- Ranboo insists that he’s going to be the person who gets rid of the Egg. Somehow.

The Crimson speaks. Ranboo pauses.

“Don’t trust yourself.”

“How did you know? How did you know about that, there’s no way...You know that I can’t even trust myself. There’s no way you could’ve...no way you could’ve known about that at all, right?”

- Ranboo takes the gamble. Even if Bad gets hurt...He breaks parts of it but they hurt him. He can’t damage it or it’ll kill him.

As he walks away, the Crimson whispers.

“Traitor...”

“Shut up...please.”

- He exits the Egg Room.

“Why does it still sting?”

- Ranboo heads back through the Nether.

“I feel a little...better, now that I’m really far away from it.”

- He can only deal with one voice that tells him what to do right now.

- Foolish asks if Ranboo likes the Egg. Ranboo says ‘eh.’

- He makes a plan on his house wall.

---

“Find way to not get hurt.”

“Find a way to stop conflict.”

“Figure out a way to be happy.”

“Figure out why the same things keep happening.”

“Figure out how to stop them from happening.”

“How to stop them from happening again.”

“Find my friends again.”

“Make peace.”

He skips a spot.

“Also get some food.”

---

- Ranboo goes on a monologue, this time with a new plan.

- He decides that he wants to get involved now, because sitting idly by didn’t solve anything. He wants to be a mediator instead, take more of a role this time. Take more control, create a court system to solve problems in.

“So that means that...we could all be a big happy family again.”

---

Upcoming Events:

- Jack Manifold wants to meet with Technoblade

- Many visits with Dream

- Sam’s lore stream

[pjotvshownews]

Questions I’ve received over the past few days + my responses: 

Anonymous asked: what does it mean with “full mailbox?” i sent my audition and they replied instantly telling me their mailbox was full. should i resubmit tomorrow?

Anonymous asked: I’m currently trying to submit an audition for Annabeth but it won’t let me because it says the “mailbox is full.” Is it too late? Or do I need to wait to try and resubmit? Is there still a small chance?

Answer: Hi anons. This was something that happened over the winter break and I am not sure why it is happening now. A theory is that, after what Rick said about them being really close to having the trio cast, they have stopped looking at recent audition submissions to the email because the audition process might be closed. Again, this is just one possibility and nothing is 100% confirmed. They have not officially stated that auditions are closed. 

You can try again and if that doesn’t work, try submitting through WeTransfer. Just know that the closer we get to the start of filming the lower your chances will be at this point. 

Anonymous asked: do you have any news at all? downloads or something from anons?

Answer: Nope.

Anonymous asked: did all callback anons already go to their audition?

Answer: In general I don’t know if all because only 2 of the now 4 anons who said they or someone they know got a callback have been in direct contact with me. Of the other two, one has not been returning on anon in the inbox to give updates or answer questions since the beginning of March and the other said they wouldn’t say anything else. The only one I can say for sure went to the callback already is the one that is the brother of the friend of anon. 

Anonymous asked: do you check if the callback anons are real? or if their info is consistent to one another? it’s not that i don’t trust you it’s that callback anons + leaks are telling us completely different things than rick

Answer: Firstly, the information from the callback anons I have been in direct contact with has not contradicted anything Rick said. If anything, they were only in conflict with the leaks/rumors (ie: the one from a couple weeks ago saying the show was already cast, which contradicts what Rick said). 

Secondly, people who lie in these situations can usually fall into two categories: 1. They lie to get attention or followers (which is likely the case with that one guy who claimed to be in the final rounds for an adult role in the show back in February) and they will do it on a public account.

2. They do it anonymously but with some big information to get a reaction from the fandom (for example: I received an ask from an anon pretending to be the callback anon whose friend’s brother got a callback and the ask simply said that he got the role (this was back in February). I didn’t post that because it was obviously fake, but it is something that, if people believed it, would make many freak out and cause a lot of panic and excitement.

The callback anons fall into neither of these because they don’t have any groundbreaking information to share and are just anonymously letting us know they got a callback. They don’t stand to gain anything from lying in this situation. Also, the information they were sharing (when they auditioned, when they got a callback, who they auditioned for, etc) was all just information to be helpful to others auditioning. 

I can’t say anything for sure about any of the anons because I didn’t demand they show me any proof of emails or anything. As I have said before, 2 of the anons have been in direct contact with me through chat, so I know those 2 accounts (if that’s what you mean by if I “checked” to see if they are real). The information they shared was pretty consistent with each other (ie: length of time between submitting auditions and getting a callback). The anons who stayed anonymous to me I can’t vouch for a much, those the information from the girl in March who was called back for Annabeth was also pretty consistent with the rest. 

Anonymous asked: this will feel weird but i can’t tell why but i trust more the info i read on here than ricks blog cause disney is definitely telling him to lie or not say everything and what would a random tumblr anon who we don’t know anything about but the info given to us have to gain from lying

Answer: Hi anon. I appreciate that you trust me, but I don’t think it should be more than what Rick says on his blog because most of the information I get and base my responses on is from what he shares. Of course he can’t say somethings, and he is transparent about the fact that he can’t share anything; not to mention, thus far he has shared so much, which is pretty uncommon for developing Disney projects. The only additional information here is when anons share if their video was downloaded or they got a callback, but really almost all of the most important information about the show has come directly from Rick. You can trust what Rick shares on his blog. 

Anonymous asked: do we know about any percy callbacks? and which callback anon auditioned for what character?

Answer: I didn’t hear from anybody who got a callback for Percy if that is what you’re asking. However, Becky mentioned watching callback videos for Percy back in November and Rick mentioned the chemistry reads between some options for the trio, so that is all the information we have really.

As for the second question: 

Brother of anon’s friend: Grover

Sister of anon: Annabeth

Anon herself (early March): Annabeth

Anon who knows someone (middle of March): Grover