#because i still do not know what that means lmao

[moonstruckme]

What if you wrote something with like... Poly EMT marauders or poly doctor marauders.. with a reader who is a type 1 diabetic, but is horrible at managing it. So like... Their omnipod or dexcom expires and they just don't realize it. As to why? Idk, like they're forgetful or maybe they were just diagnosed with it recently? Whatever sounds more interesting to you lmao

Thanks for requesting! Funnily enough I got this request the same week my uncle was in the icu with a blood sugar of over 1000 (the highest the paramedics said they'd ever seen!) so this was one of the only emt marauders drabbles I've ever done where I didn't actually have to do a bunch of research because I already knew about it haha

cw: diabetes, reader is impaired/faint, mention of needle

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 628 words

The television blurs in front of you. You have the vague impression that you used to know what was happening in this show, but now you can hardly tell one character from another. A hand touches your face, sweeping hair away from your eyes and scratching nicely at your scalp. 

“Getting tired, dove?” 

You hum. 

“Want to go to bed early?” 

“I think I could sleep here on the couch,” you admit. 

For a moment, there’s no reply. You feel the couch shift, and then a hand is gently turning your chin, directing you towards three concerned faces. It always makes you shy, being at the center of their combined attention, but right now the usual effects don’t feel as intense. 

“Are you feeling okay?” James asks you. 

“Yeah, I’m just tired.”

Later, you’ll learn you’d been slurring terribly. 

“Where’s your phone, baby?” Sirius starts looking for it as you try to recall. He finds it before you can, clicking it open and tapping at the screen until he finds what he’s looking for. “Her blood sugar’s at 300.” 

Remus’ brows push close together. “How’d that happen, hm?” he asks you. The sleeve of your pajama top gets pushed down. “Where’s your pod?” 

You blink, working hard to remember. Sirius gets up from the couch. “It’s…I don’t know. It expired,” you say. 

You hear the sound of the freezer opening, and a shrill beeping fills your kitchen. “Found it,” says Sirius. 

“Fucking hell, you’ve got to stop putting it in there.” Remus sighs, though you don’t think he’s really angry with you. “I heard it earlier, but I thought I was going mental.” 

“Sweetheart, why didn’t you get a new one when that one expired?” James asks. He rubs your calf from further down the couch, infinite in both sweetness and patience. 

“I was going to. I forgot.” You’d gotten distracted with something or other, dishes that needed to be done or something outside the window or an attention-deprived Sirius calling you from the next room. 

“You can’t just forget, silly girl.” Sirius gives your knee a mean (loving) squeeze as he sits down again. He sets a new omnipod on the table, filling it expertly with a syringe of insulin. 

“Do you have a swab?” Remus asks, and Sirius hums, passing him one. “Thanks.” 

Remus cleans off your arm, using one hand to ensure you’re still while Sirius gently presses the new omnipod to your skin. He runs his fingers around the adhesive a few times for good measure. 

“4 units, yeah?” James asks, thumbing something into your app after the others agree. You wince when you feel the needle, still not used to it, and he makes a sorry sound. Presses a conciliatory kiss to your knee. 

“There you go, babylove.” Remus sits back against the couch cushions, a tension you hadn’t noticed before dissipating from him. His hand finds your hair, carding through the strands close to your scalp. “You’ve gotta start taking better care of yourself. We can help if you want us to, but this is important, yeah?” 

“I know,” you sigh, leaning against his shoulder. “Sorry, I just forget.” 

“We’ll help you remember,” James offers in his easy way. 

Sirius nudges both you and Remus over so he can squish in on your other side. “Can’t believe we were about to go to bed with you sky high.” He pokes your thigh. “That wouldn’t have been very nice to wake up to tomorrow.” 

Your heart heavies, thinking of your boyfriends panicking and you nearly comatose in bed the next morning. “I’m sorry,” you say again, meaning it. 

“It’s alright, dove.” Remus drops a kiss to your hair. “We don’t mind taking care of you. We’ll help you get the hang of it.”

[cheeseboi420]

Of A Feather - Chapter One Preview

A/N: hi everybody!!! I am super duper stoked to present u all with the first 2k words of Of A Feather, aka the "what if Jason's bio mom didnt SUCK" fic. Im hoping to have the full chapter ready for publishing in the next week or two! Big thanks to everyone who's talked to me abt this fic so far, and an ESPECIALLY big thanks to @jayladfanpage for basically being my jaybin encyclopedia while i work my way through this fic!!! This warning will be more applicable in future chapters but it should be noted that this fic is NOT canon compliant and does significantly change/recontextualize a couple things about Jason's background, but you the audience get to find out about all that in real time alongside Jason lmao!! Anyways, without further adieu, please enjoy this preview ❤️

TW: mentions of drug use, teen pregnancy, allusions to underage sex

You expect this evening to play out like the one before it. And the one before that. And the one before that. Your routine hasn't changed in the last 13 years. Why should it? It serves you well enough, keeps you alive and… Well, that's about all it does for you. Not that you're looking for more! For the most part, you are… content, maybe isn't the correct word. Complacent fits a little better, but still isn't wholly accurate. You're content in the knowledge that your boy is safe and loved, somewhere far away from the trouble that chases you. You're complacent in your own quiet misery. The longing and loneliness had been a bitter pill to swallow those first few years of running, but after this long you've learned not to complain. God knows no one would listen if you did.

You've got a shitty box pizza in the oven. This will be your dinner, tomorrow's breakfast, and tomorrow's dinner. You won't particularly enjoy any of the meals, but they'll sustain you well enough. These days, food brings you little, if any joy. Meal times are a chore to slog through before the distraction that work brings or the sweet embrace of sleep. You look forward to, more than anything, going to bed. Not because you're tired (though there is a bone deep weariness that permeates- that no amount of rest could ever fix) but because bed means sleep, and sleep means dreams, and dreams mean a chance to hold your baby again.

You don't dream of Jason every night, but every morning, you wake thinking of him. Is he still asleep right now? Having breakfast? Is he eating well? Is he happy? Is he happy? Is he happy?

By the time you push your way through breakfast most mornings the cacophony of thoughts revolving around your son quiets to a dull roar in the back of your mind. It's better that way, you think. If you thought about him as much as your mind seemed to want you to, you'd never get anything done.

Life carries on, you suppose. However dreary and dull that life may be.

At one time you'd found the whole thing very exciting- though not in a particularly enjoyable way. The adrenaline rush has worn off over the years, no longer do you feel as though death is nipping at your heels. The paranoia never fades though. Even if your doom does not cast a shadow over you, you're always looking over your shoulder, always ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

You keep a bag packed and ready in the closet by the front door for when you have to leave this place, too. Though, you think it's buried under a winter jacket and your spare blankets. You really ought to dig it out, keep it easily accessible. You should do that but… it's been a long day. You want to eat your shitty pizza, lay down on your futon, and let the sound of tv static fill your studio apartment, lulling you to sleep.

You're getting too comfortable here, you think. You've lived in Michigan for nearly a year now. It is simultaneously entirely too close to and entirely too far from Gotham. The apartment itself was a godsend after spending most of your time sleeping in cars, tents, whatever unfortunate business was willing to employ you, anywhere you could, really- sure it has bugs, and the windows don't close all the way, and you're fairly certain it'll only take one more bad winter storm for the place to come crumbling down, but rent is dirt cheap, and the slumlord you rent from didn't ask for any ID when you signed your ‘lease.’ You're fairly certain that thing's not legally binding anyways- it was written on a cocktail napkin for Christ's sake. That didn't stop you from using a fake name when signing it. You can never be too careful.

You haven't seen your landlord since you moved in anyways. You don't ask for maintenance when things break, you fix them yourself or just learn to live with them broken. You deliver your rent by slipping a cash stuffed envelope with your name (your fake name, the one you signed your lease with, the one you use at work, the one you'd use at coffee shops if you ever went to any) on it through the slot in the office door. You do your best to be invisible. You don't cause problems, and you don't go out of your way to fix them for others. You make no friends or enemies. You've left no impact on the many places you've been, the cities you've drifted through.

The only evidence you've gone anywhere at all in your life is a stack of postcards, held together with a worn rubber band, sitting at the bottom of your go-bag. The only evidence of a life lived before that is in a similarly bound stack of polaroids, held together with a too-small paperclip. Every now and then, you'll buy a bottle of cheap wine to chug as you pour over the old photographs. Only when you leave for a new city do you dare to touch the stack of unsent postcards.

You can't bear to look at the photos too often, a painful reminder of your own failings. A reminder of the stupid, reckless little girl you'd been and the shell of a woman you'd become in the aftermath.

Girls like you'd been were a dime a dozen in Crime Alley. Really, you weren't even a particularly special or severe case. Sure, you did drugs, but you weren't on crack. You were just a bit of a stoner! Sure you'd been sixteen and pregnant, without the slightest idea which of your former paramours had knocked you up- but it was all above board, really! None of those men had forced you to do anything. In fact, you sought them out of your own volition for all sorts of reasons. Attention, cheap affection, cheaper drugs, something to do, somewhere to go when the home you'd once shared with your father and brother had become too stifling to bear.

It's all your own fault, really.

At least that's what you keep telling yourself.

It's easier to swallow than the alternative: that you were a vulnerable and unloved thing, eating from any hand that would feed you, until the hand that feeds decides to beat.

This, you think, is why you shouldn't think too hard about the past. It doesn't do you any good to dwell on it.

You force yourself to focus on the present, on the here and now. The scratchy polyester blend of the futon cushions, the scent of cheap cheese melting in the oven, the distant sound of sirens, and howling wind outside your apartment. There's no sense in thinking about Gotham now, not when you're so far from it.

You sit up on the futon, no longer content to lounge and let your mind wander. Instead you task yourself with flipping through channels on TV, seeking something mind numbing enough to distract you from your unusually strong urge to reminisce.

The Wonder Years? No, you don't want to watch anything about a family.

Alf? No, that puppet creeps you out.

Cops? Fuck that.

You're about to resign yourself to another night of murmuring the (mostly incorrect) answers to Jeopardy questions at your tv, when you're startled by a knock at your door.

A… knock… at your door.

No one ever knocks on your door. You don't get mail, you don't have friends, if your landlord wanted something, you're willing to bet the greasy bastard wouldn't be willing to haul himself all the way up to the fifth floor at nearly 10 PM.

Oh God… Did… Did he find you? Is this it? Are you going to die in the upper peninsula of Michigan, of all places?!

No, no. You have to stay calm. This could be anything. It's just a knock at the door. It could be anyone!

Oh lord, it could be anyone.

You keep the tv on, hoping that the sound of Alex Trebek grilling folks on useless trivia will cover your footsteps as you creep towards your front door. You hold your breath as you press yourself against it, double checking that all three of your locks are secure before you risk a glance out the peephole.

When you look out into the hall you're surprised, and frankly a bit confused by the sight before you. Standing at your door is a boy, dark haired and bright eyed. He stands straight but not particularly tall- he can't be more than five feet. He's glancing around the hall, rocking back and forth on his heels. He's wearing a red sweatshirt and jeans, with a backpack slung over one shoulder. Despite his small stature he holds an air of determination that makes you think he must feel quite old for his age- you get that, you were the same way in your own youth. A chip too big for your shoulder.

You're so focused on studying him that it startles you when he leans forward to knock again. You jolt, accidentally kicking the door (with your bare feet too, damn does that hurt your poor toes) and responding to his knock-knock-knock with a solid knock of your own.

“Hello?” The boy calls. “Anybody home?”

“I don't have any money!” You call back, cursing yourself for the shake in your voice. You should not be this rattled by a random adolescent on your doorstep. “So, if you're selling popcorn, or cookies, or whatever, you should try next door.”

The boy rolls his eyes.

“I'm not a boy scout!” He says. “I'm looking for-”

And then the shoe drops; he says your name. Your full name. Not your fake name, that you use at work, and on envelopes, and in hypothetical coffee shops. Your real name.

It takes every bit of emotional regulation you can muster not to spiral into a full blown panic right then and there because good God, did He send a child to finish you off? The cruel irony is not lost on you. Come to think of it, this boy on your doorstep does bear an uncanny resemblance to-

“My name is Jason Todd,” the boy continues. “And uh… well, I might be your son?”

He could be lying, the logical part of your brain insists. This could be a ploy to get you to open the door, don't open the door! But your hands are moving on their own, shakey as they may be. The first lock twists unlocked with ease, the second takes a fair bit more of your fine motor function, and by the time your shaking hands reach up to unhook the chain on the door, you're struggling to see through unshed tears. You attempt once, twice, three fucking times to get your hands to cooperate and unlatch the damn chain.

Fuck it.

You open the door, yanking it inwards, towards yourself as hard as you can. It should probably unnerve you that the flimsy chain breaks at the first sign of real resistance, but that's not what's important right now.

What's important is the boy standing before you- your boy. Your Jason.

He looks as surprised as you feel, his eyes flitting between the broken chain, and you.

For a long moment the only thing you can do is look at him, reacquaint yourself with the sight of him. Of course, you know that he did not stay frozen in time, the way your memory of him is. It's been many years since you've held that babbling toddler. But knowing and seeing are two different things.

He's small for his age, is your first thought. Your own fault, you're certain. Between a premature delivery and your own malnourishment during that first trimester, it's a miracle he'd survived in the first place. Small, but well fed. His cheeks are full and flushed. Despite his size, he seems healthy. Good. That means Will's been feeding him. Hopefully, it means they got the hell out of The Alley, into a nicer neighborhood.

His hair isn't as curly as you'd pictured it- too short in most places to hold a curl, save for his bangs, which seem to almost form the shape of a heart over his forehead.

“Jason?” You can barely manage to say his name through the lump in your throat. You find yourself suddenly struggling to focus your gaze on him, the haze of tears welling up in your eyes makes it difficult to see. You try to blink them away but instead they roll down your cheeks.

God, when's the last time you cried?

You reach out to him, cupping one of his cheeks in the palm of your shaking hand. He leans into the affectionate touch, and you're reminded of puppies, overeager and seeking love at every opportunity.

“Mom,” he says back to you, his tone just as reverent as your own. “Mom,” he says again, voice crackling. And then, in unison, the both of you have pulled each other into a crushing hug. You can't tell if the sound you make is a sob or a laugh. You hold onto Jason like he'll vanish into the ether if you loosen your hold for even a second, one hand clutching at the back of his sweatshirt, the other at the back of his head, petting his hair as he buries his face in your neck.

Finally, at long last, your heart is home.

SO. What do we think folks. Are you hooked? I hope youre hooked. Please be hooked. I wanna talk to people about this fic so damn bad. Please send anons or dms or literally anything. When the chapter is complete I'll be putting it up here as well as on my ao3, which I'll link to! Thanks so much for reading and i hope yall are enjoying yourselves so far! Send me an anon or a dm if you'd like to be included on the taglist for this series!

TAGLIST: @leirobles

[rosemariiaa]

~All Eyes on You~

pairing: Paige x Oc

a/n: ok i really like the way i made the insta kind of post! yes paige is a stalker but we knew that lol! pretty long.. anyway happy reading lovelies 💌

warnings: teasing, language, sexual innuendos

Enjoy!!!

Victoria.C

curls or no?

Liked by paigebueckers and others

| paigebueckers ouu who’s this diva? 🤗

↪️ Victoria.C hi paige :)

comments…

It had been a week since the charity event, and Victoria couldn’t shake the thought of Paige. They’ve been having more interactions ever since that night. Everything about their brief conversations lingered in her mind—how easy it felt, how Paige seemed genuinely interested in her, and the way she could make Tori laugh without even trying.

Jason had been worse than ever lately, blowing up her phone with his usual jealousy and controlling bullshit. Every interaction with him felt like a chore, draining her more than she was willing to admit. But there was one bright spot in her life lately—Paige.

It wasn’t just that Paige followed her on Instagram; it was the comments, the messages, the way Paige seemed to pop up at the perfect moment to distract Tori from everything else. Like now, for instance. Tori had posted some selfies from her car and bathroom showing off her glowy tan skin and bouncy curls. It wasn’t anything special, but Paige had commented almost immediately.

I’m liking what i see princess. You ever have a bad day or nah?

Tori smiled, her fingers hovering over her phone as she tried to think of something witty to say back.

Princess? Don’t gas me up too much, Bueckers. You’ll give me a big head.

She sent it, then rolled her eyes at herself. What am I even doing?

But her phone buzzed almost immediately.

I mean, if the shoe fits. I call it like I see it.

Tori laughed quietly to herself, trying not to grin too much. Paige had a way of making her feel like the only person in the room, even over texts.

You’re ridiculous, you know that?

Only sometimes. Admit it though, you love the attention.

Tori’s heart raced a little as she typed out her next message.

Who says I’m not getting attention from other people?

Lmao. Okay, Tori. I see you.

But let’s be real, none of those other people are me.

Tori bit her lip, trying not to let her smile get too big. Paige was right, though. There wasn’t anyone else like her.

For the rest of the night, they kept texting back and forth, the conversation getting more playful, more flirty with each message. Every time her phone buzzed, it was Paige, saying something that made Tori forget about the stress in her life, if only for a moment.

But Jason’s messages kept coming too. His jealousy was getting worse. Tori hadn’t even done anything, but that didn’t stop him from accusing her of talking to other guys, demanding to know where she was and what she was doing.

Why the fuck are you ignoring me?

You better not be texting anyone else right now.

Saw you liked Paige Bueckers’ post. You think I’m fucking stupid? What, you into girls now?

Tori groaned, tossing her phone onto the bed. The dude was insufferable. Why am I still with him? Her phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t Jason. A message from Paige lit up her screen, and she couldn’t help but smile as she opened it.

You still up? Or did I finally bore you to death?

I’m still here, don’t flatter yourself.

What are you up to?

Trying to find something to watch. You got any good recommendations or nah?

I bet you got trash taste.

You think I’m about to let you roast my TV taste? Absolutely not.

Lmao, come on. What are you watching? I need new shit to binge.

Honestly? I’m rewatching the big bang theory because I have no life.

Damn, guess I’m the only exciting thing going on for you lately, huh?

Tori rolled her eyes at her phone but couldn’t stop smiling.

Please, don’t flatter yourself. You’re like… mildly interesting at best.

Oh yeah? Then why do you keep texting me back?

That comment made Tori pause. She stared at the message for a second longer than she should have, feeling that little spark in her chest again. Why do I keep texting her back?

Touché.

Thought so.

You gotta admit, I make your day a little better. I can tell you’ve been smiling at your phone this whole time.

Okay, chill. You’re not all that.

Nah, I’m definitely all that.

Tori laughed out loud, biting her lip to stop herself from grinning so hard. Paige was… too much. But she was exactly what Tori needed right now. Something light, something fun, someone who didn’t make everything so heavy and complicated. Paige made her feel like she could breathe again, even if it was just through a screen. The smile lingered on Tori’s face as she typed her next message.

Alright, I’ll give you that. You make my day a little better.

See? Was that so hard to admit?

Next step: you stop pretending and just tell me you miss me.

Tori laughed softly at her phone, shaking her head.

Miss you? We hung out like once.

And yet, here we are, texting like old friends.

You miss me, Tori. Just admit it.

Tori’s heart raced a little. Paige was flirting, clearly. But it wasn’t over the top. It was just enough to keep Tori on her toes.

She paused before typing back.

Maybe I do.

The message hung there for a second, and before Tori could second-guess it, Paige’s response popped up almost immediately.

Knew it.

Tori shook her head, laughing to herself. Paige’s confidence was kind of infuriating, but also… incredibly attractive. She was about to type something else when her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn’t Paige.

It was Jason. Again.

You haven’t responded to me in hours. You’re probably texting someone else, aren’t you?

Her smile instantly faded, and the familiar wave of frustration hit her. She didn’t even want to look at his texts anymore. He’d been getting worse every day, his possessiveness suffocating her.

She was so tired of it. Of him.

But then her phone buzzed again—Paige, like a breath of fresh air.

You good?

Tori sighed and hesitated for a second before responding.

Honestly, not really. Just dealing with some shit.

Damn, sorry to hear that. Anything I can do to help?

Tori smiled weakly at her phone. Paige didn’t even know how much she was helping, just by being there, just by distracting her from the mess that was her life.

You’re already helping. I think you might be the only thing keeping me sane right now.

I’m glad I could provide some entertainment. But seriously, Tori, if you need to talk, I’m here.

That message made Tori pause again. Paige wasn’t just flirting anymore. She was genuinely offering to be there for her. And that made Tori’s chest tighten in a way she wasn’t prepared for.

Thanks, Paige. I really appreciate that.

She stared at the screen for a moment longer, the weight of everything hitting her all at once. The mess with Jason, the suffocating relationship she was stuck in, and this new connection with Paige that felt so easy, so right. Tori closed her eyes, trying to shake the thoughts from her mind. But one thing was clear—Paige was the one thing keeping her grounded right now.

————-

Victoria wakes up to the soft morning light filtering through her blinds. Her phone is the first thing she grabs, almost instinctively checking her notifications. There’s a lingering buzz of excitement as she hopes to see another message from Paige. She scrolls to her Instagram, the post Paige had commented on staring back at her. There’s something about seeing Paige’s name and comment that makes her heart race a little faster than she’d like to admit.

God, why am I so stuck on this? It’s just Paige…you’re average blonde white chick.

But just as she’s about to scroll past the comment, her phone lights up with a text from Jason.

Jason: “Good morning. You doing anything today?”

She stares at the message, rolling her eyes. He always acts like everything’s fine after being possessive and picking fights. She feels her stomach sink a little as she realizes she’s more disappointed about not hearing from Paige than about Jason’s text.

Jason texts again before she even has the chance to respond.

Jason: “You didn’t respond last night. Where were you? Who were you with?”

Victoria groans, tossing her phone to the side. This is exactly what’s been draining her. The constant questioning, the insecurity. She’s tired of it. After a moment, she picks up the phone again, deciding to ignore Jason for now. Instead, she heads to Instagram, pulling up her DMs. Paige’s name is right there in the conversation list from last night, and Victoria bites her lip, wondering if she should make the first move this time.

She hesitates for a second before typing:

“You alive?”

A few moments pass, and Victoria starts second-guessing sending the message, until her phone vibrates. It’s Paige.

“Barely. What’s up?”

Victoria smiles, feeling a little thrill run through her. This is already the highlight of her morning.

“Just checking if last night’s convo knocked you out.”

“Please, Tori, I’m unstoppable.”

“Unstoppable, huh? Is that what they’re calling it now?”

“You’ll have to see for yourself.”

Victoria’s heart skips a beat at the response, and she’s suddenly very aware of the smile on her face.

But just as she’s about to respond, her phone starts ringing—it’s Jason, again. With a frustrated sigh, she declines the call, dropping her phone beside her on the bed. She knows she can’t avoid him forever, but right now, she’d rather think about Paige and this… whatever it is between them.

After a few more minutes of talking with Paige, Victoria feels bold enough to suggest meeting up. She hesitates for a second, typing and deleting before finally sending the message.

“You in the mood for a coffee run?”

She stares at her phone, anxiously waiting for Paige to respond. It doesn’t take long.

“Always. I’ll pick you up in 30.”

Victoria smiles, her stomach doing a little flip. She quickly gets out of bed, throwing on something casual but cute—just enough to catch Paige’s attention. A lacy v neck white top and ripped jeans, with her hair pulled up into a messy bun. She checks herself in the mirror, satisfied, before heading out the door.

————-

30 Minutes Later…

Paige pulls up outside Victoria’s place, driving a sleek black jeep. Victoria gets in, and immediately, the energy between them is different—charged, but comfortable. Paige gives her a once-over, smirking as she pulls out of the driveway.

“Damn, Tori, is this your casual look? No wonder you’re always blowing up on my phone on literally every app.”

Victoria rolls her eyes, feeling her face heat up despite herself. “Please. I barely post anything.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Paige says, side-eyeing her with a teasing grin. “Had to scroll back pretty far through insta.” Victoria’s eyes widen. “Oh, so you’ve been stalking my Instagram now? That’s funny but i’m not surprised.”

Paige chuckles, shrugging as if she doesn’t have a care in the world. “Touché. But let’s not act like you weren’t waiting for me to like those photos.”

Victoria’s heart skips a beat at Paige’s confidence, and for a second, she’s not sure how to respond. Before she can think of a clever comeback, they pull up to a small, cozy coffee shop tucked away from the main street. They step inside, and the atmosphere is warm and inviting. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and there’s a soft hum of chatter around them. Paige leads the way to the counter, glancing back at Victoria.

“What are you having?”

Victoria shrugs, looking over the menu. “I’ll probably just get a latte.”

Paige grins. “I’ll grab it. You go find us a spot.”

Victoria nods, heading over to a quiet corner of the shop by the window. She sits down, taking a deep breath, trying to figure out why her heart is racing like this. She knows it’s because of Paige, and the more she tries to ignore it, the more obvious it becomes.

Paige joins her with their drinks, sliding the cup over to her. They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, just sipping their coffee and watching the people outside. “So,” she begins, her voice soft, “what’s got you all wrapped up lately? I noticed your texts seemed a little off this morning and last night.”

Victoria exhales slowly, the weight of Jason’s constant nagging starting to bubble to the surface. “It’s just… Jason. He’s been more possessive lately. I didn’t answer his calls last night, and now he’s acting like I’m hiding something from him.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, her gaze sharp. “He sounds like a piece of work.”

Victoria laughs bitterly. “Yeah, you could say that.”

Paige leans back in her chair, crossing her arms as she looks at Victoria. “So, what are you going to do about it?” Victoria fidgets with her coffee cup, feeling the weight of the question. She knows what she should do, but it’s not that easy. “I don’t know. I’m just… tired, you know? Tired of always being the one who has to calm him down or reassure him. It’s exhausting.”

Paige watches her for a moment, then reaches across the table, placing her hand over Victoria’s. It’s a small gesture, but the warmth from Paige’s hand sends a comforting jolt through her.

“You deserve better than that, Tori.”

Victoria looks up, her eyes meeting Paige’s. There’s something in the way Paige is looking at her—soft but intense, like she really means it. Victoria feels her chest tighten, the air between them suddenly thick with tension. “Yeah, maybe I do.”

They sit like that for a few more moments, the coffee shop buzzing around them, but all Victoria can focus on is the feeling of Paige’s hand on hers. The moment feels significant, like a shift in something she didn’t even realize was happening. After finishing their coffee, Paige stands up and stretches, glancing out the window. “You up for a walk? It’s too nice out to head home already.”

Victoria smiles, feeling a little lighter after talking things out with Paige. “Yeah, a walk sounds perfect.”

They leave the coffee shop, stepping into the bright sunlight, the early morning air crisp around them. The city is alive with people going about their day, but there’s a sense of calm between them as they fall into an easy stride. Their shoulders occasionally brush against each other, sending subtle but electric jolts through Victoria.

As they walk, Victoria notices a puppy trotting along the sidewalk with its owner, its tiny tail wagging furiously. Without a second thought, she gasps and kneels down to greet it.

“Oh my god, hi!” she coos, her voice softening as she reaches out to the little fluffball. The puppy bounds over to her, immediately licking her hand. “Aren’t you the cutest thing ever?” Victoria laughs, her entire face lighting up as she pets the puppy, her fingers scratching behind its ears. She leans down even more, planting a soft kiss on its nose.

Paige watches from a few steps back, her heart swelling at the sight. There’s something so genuine and carefree about Victoria in this moment—it’s like all the stress and frustration she’s been carrying with Jason just melts away. Paige can’t help but smile, feeling her chest tighten for a whole different reason now.

“You’re good with dogs,” Paige says, her voice lower as she watches Victoria with soft eyes.

Victoria looks up from the puppy, her smile wide as she scratches behind its ears one more time. “I’ve always loved dogs. I want one so bad, but with everything going on, I’m barely keeping my head above water.”

The vulnerability in her words hits Paige, and she steps closer, slipping her hands into her pockets. “You’d make a great dog mom,” she teases lightly, her tone warm. “Maybe you can get one when things calm down… or when you ditch the extra baggage.”

Victoria lets out a small laugh at that, standing back up. “Yeah, well, we’ll see if that happens anytime soon.”

They continue walking, but now there’s a shift. Victoria is more relaxed, and Paige keeps stealing glances at her, admiring the way her face softens when she talks about the things she loves, the way she glows in the sunlight. She wants to say something, but she keeps it to herself for now, not wanting to push anything too soon.

As they walk a little farther, there’s a comfortable silence between them. Victoria is lost in her thoughts, feeling lighter, while Paige is struggling to hold back how much she’s enjoying this—how much she’s enjoying her.

Eventually, Victoria speaks up again. “You didn’t say much back there when I was venting about Jason,” she says, glancing over at Paige. Paige shrugs, her gaze still focused ahead. “It’s not really my place, you know? But for what it’s worth, you seem like you already know what you need to do.”

Victoria sighs, shoving her hands into her hoodie pockets. “Yeah… I do. I’m just scared of actually doing it.”

Paige stops walking, turning to face her. “You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, Tori. You’ve got this. And I’m here for you… whatever you need.”

Victoria looks up at her, surprised by how genuine Paige sounds. Her heart skips a beat as Paige’s words sink in. She’s not used to someone being so… supportive. It’s not something Jason has ever given her, and it makes her realize just how different things feel with Paige.

“Thanks,” she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige smiles, her gaze lingering on Victoria’s eyes for a second longer than necessary. “Anytime.”

As they continue walking, Paige can’t help but bring the conversation back to Victoria’s interaction with the puppy. “I gotta admit,” Paige says with a smirk, “watching you go full soft mode on that puppy was pretty cute.”

Victoria scoffs, a blush creeping up her neck. “Oh, shut up,” she laughs, shoving Paige’s shoulder playfully. “You’re just jealous.”

Paige raises an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Jealous? Please. If anything, I was just wondering if you’d give me the same amount of attention.”

Victoria stops in her tracks, turning to face Paige with a teasing grin. “Oh? Is that what you want, Bueckers? For me to pet you and kiss your nose?”

Paige bursts out laughing, but there’s a glint in her eye as she steps closer to Victoria, closing the small distance between them. “I mean… I wouldn’t say no to that,” she teases, her voice dropping a little, making Victoria’s heart race.

Victoria rolls her eyes, feeling her face heat up. “You’re impossible.”

Paige just grins, leaning in a little more, her face inches from Victoria’s now. “And yet, you can’t seem to stay away.”

Victoria feels the breath catch in her throat, her pulse quickening. She’s suddenly all too aware of how close Paige is, how the air between them feels electric. But instead of pulling away, she smirks, meeting Paige’s gaze head-on.

“We’ll see how long that lasts,” she says, her voice low but playful.

Paige’s grin doesn’t falter. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

After their walk, Victoria can’t shake the feeling of warmth that’s lingering. As they make their way back to her place, Paige is walking a little ahead, and Victoria finds herself watching Paige, her thoughts wandering.

Why does everything feel so different with her?

It’s been gnawing at her since their first encounter, but now it’s undeniable. She can feel it in the way her heart skips every time Paige flashes that stupid, confident smile. She never felt this way with Jason—not even close. Sure, Jason had a certain pull over her, but it was never like this. Never this… easy.

As they approach her apartment, Victoria’s mind is racing, the weight of it all finally hitting her. This is more than just a little crush. This is something real, something I can’t ignore anymore.

Paige glances back at her, catching her staring, and smirks. “You good, Vic? You look like you’re lost in space.” Victoria snaps out of her thoughts, blushing slightly as she catches up. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About me, I hope,” Paige teases, winking as they walk through the front door.

Victoria rolls her eyes, trying to play it cool. “You wish.”

But inside, her heart is doing flips.

Once inside, Victoria offers Paige a drink before they settle on the couch. Victoria flips through the TV channels aimlessly, trying to distract herself from the way her pulse quickens with Paige sitting so close to her. Paige stretches her long legs out, getting comfortable as she steals the remote from Victoria’s hand.

“I’m picking something,” Paige says with a grin, not even waiting for a response as she scrolls through Netflix.

Victoria just shakes her head, a small smile playing on her lips. How is she so effortlessly charming?

As they settle into a show, the room falls into a comfortable silence. Paige’s presence feels calming, but at the same time, Victoria can’t focus on the screen at all. Her thoughts keep drifting back to how right this feels. Being with Paige doesn’t feel forced or exhausting—it’s natural. It’s easy.

She can feel the tension between them, like an unspoken question hanging in the air, and for the first time, she lets herself admit that she doesn’t just like Paige. She wants her—her attention, her smile, her everything.

But then the doubts start creeping in. What am I even doing? She just sorta got out of a messy situation with Jason, and now she’s falling for someone else? Is this even okay?

Paige must’ve sensed her sudden mood shift because she nudges Victoria with her elbow. “You sure you’re good? You’re super quiet all of a sudden.”Victoria takes a deep breath and glances at Paige. Her heart flutters when she meets her gaze—those blue eyes piercing into hers, searching for something more.

“I’m… Yeah, I’m good,” Victoria finally says, but her voice wavers a bit.

Paige narrows her eyes, not buying it. “Bullshit.”

Victoria lets out a soft laugh. “Okay, maybe I’m not fine. It’s just…” She hesitates, unsure if she’s ready to spill everything.

Paige leans in, her arm resting on the back of the couch as she watches Victoria intently. “Look, you can talk to me, Tori. What’s going on?”

Victoria bites her lip, feeling the weight of the moment. She looks away, staring at the TV, but she’s not really seeing anything. Her mind is racing, trying to sort through her feelings.

“I don’t know,” she finally admits, her voice quiet. “It’s just…” She inhaled sharply before speaking again. “I’ve been feeling things. For you. And it’s weird because I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. Not even Jason.”

Paige stays quiet, letting Victoria continue.

“I guess it’s just confusing, you know? Because I’m not used to… this.” She gestures between them, her cheeks flushing slightly. “It’s new. But it feels… right. And that freaks me out.”

Paige watches her, a slow smile spreading across her face. She shifts closer to Victoria, her hand lightly brushing against her leg. “You think I don’t feel the same way?” she asks, her voice low and playful.

Victoria’s breath catches as she glances down at Paige’s hand on her thigh. She swallows hard, her pulse racing.

“I wasn’t sure,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

Paige’s fingers trail up her thigh, sending shivers down Victoria’s spine. “Well, now you know.”

The air between them crackles with tension, and Victoria feels her body responding to Paige’s touch, every nerve alive and buzzing. She turns her head to face Paige, their eyes locking in an intense gaze.

“You’re so cute when you’re nervous,” Paige teases, her lips curving into a smirk as her hand inches a little higher.

Victoria lets out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. “You’re impossible.”

Paige leans in closer, her breath warm against Victoria’s ear. “And yet, you still want me.”

Victoria’s cheeks flush red, but she can’t deny the truth in Paige’s words. She does want her. Every inch of her is screaming for it, but there’s still a small part of her that’s holding back.

“I just…” Victoria starts, her voice trailing off as Paige moves even closer, her lips brushing against Victoria’s jawline.

“Just what?” Paige whispers, her lips ghosting over Victoria’s skin, sending chills down her spine.

Victoria’s breath hitches, her heart pounding in her chest. She can barely think straight with Paige this close, with her vanilla scent filling her senses and her touch setting her skin on fire.

“I just… don’t want to mess this up,” she finally says, her voice trembling slightly.

Paige pulls back just enough to look into Victoria’s eyes, her hand still resting on her thigh. “You’re not going to mess anything up, Tori,” she says softly, her voice gentle now. “I promise.”

Victoria’s heart flutters at the sincerity in Paige’s voice, and for the first time, she feels a sense of calm wash over her. Maybe she’s overthinking this. Maybe it’s okay to just… feel for once.

Victoria breaks the tension with a small smile, her usual confidence returning. “You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” she teases, her tone lightening.

Paige grins, leaning back slightly but keeping her hand on Victoria’s thigh. “Pretty much, yeah.”

Victoria rolls her eyes, but she can’t help the smile tugging at her lips. “You’re so cocky.”

Paige laughs, her fingers giving Victoria’s thigh a playful squeeze. “Only because I know what I’m doing.”

“Oh, do you now?” Victoria shoots back, her voice playful as she raises an eyebrow.

Paige leans in again, her lips dangerously close to Victoria’s. “You tell me,” she whispers, her eyes flicking down to Victoria’s lips.

Victoria’s heart skips a beat, her breath catching as she feels the tension building between them again. She knows she should probably slow down, but right now, all she can think about is how much she wants to close the gap between them.

Victoria doesn’t hold back this time. She leans in, pressing her lips softly against Paige’s, her hand sliding up to cup the back of Paige’s neck. Paige doesn’t hesitate to respond, deepening the kiss as her fingers tighten on Victoria’s thigh.

The kiss is slow at first, both of them savoring the moment. But as the tension between them builds, it becomes more heated, their bodies pressing closer together.

Paige’s hands move to Victoria’s waist, pulling her even closer as their kiss intensifies. Victoria’s fingers tangle in Paige’s hair, a soft moan escaping her lips as she feels the heat between them rising. But before things can go any further, Victoria pulls back slightly, her breath coming in soft pants as she stares into Paige’s eyes. “You’re so fucking hot,” she whispers, her voice full of admiration.

Paige smirks, her hands still resting on Victoria’s waist. “I could say the same about you angel,” she replies, her voice low and teasing.

They share a small laugh, the intensity between them softening into something more playful. But even as they joke, the tension is still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

Victoria stands up, stretching her arms above her head, trying to shake off the lingering heat from their kiss. “Alright, get out,” she says playfully, motioning toward the door but not quite ready for Paige to leave.

Paige raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a teasing smirk. “Oh, now you’re kicking me out? Just when things were getting interesting, baby.”

Victoria feels a flush rise to her cheeks at the nickname, her heart racing. “You think you can just charm your way in and out like that?”

Paige takes a step closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I don’t just think it; I know it. You’re the one who’s flustered, princess.” She leans in, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “Look at you—blushing like crazy.” Victoria bites her lip, fighting back a smile as she tries to maintain her composure. “Shut up. I’m not blushing.”

Paige leans in even closer, brushing her fingers lightly along Victoria’s arm. “Sure you’re not. But you know, if you wanted to see how flustered I can make you, all you had to do was ask.”

Victoria can feel the tension building again, her heart racing as she locks eyes with Paige. “And what if I don’t want to know?” she retorts, trying to sound defiant but failing miserably as her voice wavers slightly.

Paige grins, clearly enjoying the playful banter. “Oh, come on. You know you want to find out. Just imagine what else I could do to you if I had you all to myself, all night long.”

Victoria swallows hard, her pulse quickening as she imagines the possibilities. “You’ve lost it.”

Paige takes another step closer, their bodies nearly touching now. “I mean, I’m just saying… It could be fun.” She brushes her thumb across Victoria’s jawline, tilting her head slightly to meet her gaze.

“Fun?” Victoria repeats, her breath hitching as Paige’s hand slides to her waist, pulling her in closer. “Like, how fun?”

Paige leans in again, her lips brushing against Victoria’s ear. “Oh, I think you know exactly what I mean, Tori. But maybe you’re just scared to find out.”

Victoria gasps softly at the sensation, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding her system. “I…”

Before she can finish her thought, Paige’s expression turns playful again. “But I know the rules. If you want a sleepover, you’ve got to earn it.” “Ugh, seriously?” Victoria rolls her eyes, but she can’t help but smile, her competitive spirit igniting. “You think you can just tease me and get away with it?”

Paige steps back toward the door, winking at her. “Oh, I know I can. And trust me, I’m up for the challenge if you are. I will definitely get that sleepover soon.”

As Paige turns to leave, she glances back one last time, her eyes smoldering with desire. She closes the gap between them, capturing Victoria’s lips in another heated kiss, deepening the connection as she pulls Victoria closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. Victoria melts into the kiss, her fingers tangling in Paige’s hair, feeling the warmth radiating between them.

Paige pulls back slightly, their foreheads resting together, both breathing heavily. “You taste so sweet,” she murmurs, brushing her thumb across Victoria’s cheek. Victoria’s heart races, her cheeks flushing. “You’re not too bad yourself, Bueckers.”

Paige smiles, leaning in for another kiss, this one soft and lingering, full of promise. Victoria’s hands slide down to Paige’s waist, pulling her even closer, their bodies pressed tightly together. The kiss deepens, and Paige’s hands roam over Victoria’s back, sending electricity coursing through both of them.

As they finally pull apart, both breathless and slightly dazed, Paige smirks. “Now, that’s how you earn a sleepover.”

Victoria chuckles, her heart racing. “Good luck with that. You have some serious competition.”

Paige leans in once more, brushing her lips against Victoria’s, teasingly whispering, “Oh, I thrive on competition, you know that.”

As Paige turns to leave, she glances back one last time. “Goodnight, princess,” she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

Victoria watches her go, her heart racing and her thoughts a jumbled mess. “Goodnight, Bueckers,” she replies, trying to sound casual but feeling anything but.

As the door clicks shut, Victoria leans against it, taking a moment to catch her breath. What the hell just happened?

———-

tags: @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner @ohbueckers @mrsarnold

[luvismenu]

First Meet ⋆˚࿔ fuckboy!jungkook 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ extra ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

series m.list

♡ — permanent taglist: @blaricee @blluee28 @jkvias @jksctrl @ari420sstuff @wnteraezz @letmekookk @whoa-jo @wobblewobble822 @jkslvsnella @clxssy1997 @nikkinikj @kayleesaltzmann @rrosiitas @naurnonope @lola75111 @somehowukook @redcherrykook @parkinglot-nights @deluluisdasolulu @minghaosimp @hyeon-yi @ririkookiemonster @svtrighthereworld @jmscaffeine @trinityxsope @taetaecatboy @butnotmontana @joyofbebbanburg

note — just a lot of yapping ig?? lmao

a frat party.

you despise frat parties.

so why are you here?

because you wanna fuck hoseok.

you just have to find him in this crowd, strike up a conversation, maybe flirt a little, and then let things happen naturally.

simple, right?

wrong!!

you’ve never done this kind of thing before. well, you’re not a virgin, but you’ve never really gone out of your way to hook up with someone who wasn’t in a relationship with you. why would you? your vibrator has always been enough, and besides, you don’t trust people easily. putting yourself out there like this feels foreign—almost reckless.

so why now? why hoseok?

he’s been your study buddy for a while now. almost like a good friend to you. compared to the other guys you’ve met, he’s respectful, never once tried to cross any boundaries.

that’s basically the bare minimum, but still, for some reason, you’re really attracted to him.

or you're just sex deprived.

when he invited you to his friend’s party; where everyone either drinks, hooks up, or both. you figured it was a sign.

“you can come if you wanna” were his exact words, casual and without pressure.

still, an invite to a party like this must mean something, right? you probably have a chance with him. you just want to fuck him.

a hookup isn’t that bad, is it?

“___! over here!” hoseok’s voice cuts through the crowd, and you spot him waving at you. you push through the sweaty bodies and the overwhelming stench of alcohol. he’s swaying with a drink in hand, a pretty woman clinging to his side.

great.

he already has plans for tonight.

“you came!” he cheers.

not yet you haven’t. and, at this rate, you probably won’t.

“yeah… yay, i came,” you reply, trying to sound enthusiastic.

“enjoy yourself, ___! drink as much as you want!” he laughs, clearly already wasted. the woman next to him pulls him closer, whispering something in his ear while kissing his neck in a way that feels too intimate.

awkward..

“have fun, okay? i’ll see you in a few,” hoseok says, before turning back to the woman. “got some unfinished business to deal with.”

and just like that, he’s gone.

you’re disappointed. sad, even. and a little.. mad?

“good job, ___,” you mutter under your breath. “this is what you get for not telling him if you were coming or not.”

ugh, imagine getting all worked up for nothing.

“what do i even do now?” you sigh, turning around to leave. “guess i’ll just— ow! what the fu—”

“watch where you’re going, dumba— oh.”

you rub your shoulder, looking up at the guy who practically knocked you over. in the dim lighting, you can’t make out much of his face, but he’s staring down at you, eyes scanning your features.

“that fucking hurts,” you groan.

“if you wanted my attention that badly, you could’ve just asked instead of running into me,” he says, a cocky smirk forming on his lips. “also, bumping into strangers isn’t the best approach, you know.”

“you bumped into me!” you protest.

“that’s what they all say,” he grins, the cockiness in his voice irritates you.

oh you hate him already.

“i was trying to leave, and you came out of nowhere!! whatever, it was an accident, okay? i wasn't trying to get your attention. i don’t even know who you are,” you explain, growing more frustrated.

“you don’t know me?”

you shake your head, confused.

“who invited you?”

“why do you care?”

“because this is my party.”

oh.

shit.

it’s jeon jungkook.

“oh i-”

“wait. aren’t you ___?”

“uh, yeah, that’s me. how do you know my name?” you ask, surprised that he recognizes you.

“i think i saw you talking to hoseok once and—” loud cheering interrupts him, followed by the sound of music thumping from the main room. he glances around, looking slightly annoyed before continuing, “come on, i know a quieter place.”

you give him a look, cleary not liking that idea.

“i won’t do anything, darling,” he says softly. “i promise. i just wanna talk,” something about the way he says it makes your stomach do a flip.

no, nope, you can't let your hormones take control over you right now.

you shake your head slightly, trying to clear your thoughts.

“you coming?” he asks as he starts walking, glancing back at you with a teasing smile.

normally, you'd be on your way out of a party like this. but something in you decided to follow him. maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was just because the loud, crowded room was starting to get on your nerves.

“so, you study with hoseok. interesting.” he sits beside you. “didn’t know he was into people like you.” jungkook hands you a coke.

you take it from his hand, raising an eyebrow. “people like me?”

“just didn’t think hoseok hung out with nerds,” jungkook replies, his tone casual but with that ever-present cockiness.

jeon jungkook—the infamous fuckboy.

you don’t really understand why he’s so popular.

sure, he’s handsome. and okay, maybe his perfectly sculpted body helps, but the way girls fawn over him and the way guys seem to both admire and fear him baffles you.

even now, you find him irritating.

how can someone so cocky be so popular?

“what is that supposed to mean?” you frown.

he shrugs, a hint of a smirk on his lips.

“did you spike this?” you ask, raising a brow as you take a cautious sip.

he rolls his eyes “relax. i’m a fuckboy, not a creep.”

“same thing.” you shrug, taking another sip, feeling the cold liquid hit your throat.

“so, why are you here?”

“what do you mean?”

“this place is filled with fuckboys—or creeps, as you like to call them. doesn’t seem like your vibe.”

“uh, like i said before, i was invited,” you say, clearing your throat, feeling slightly defensive. “thought i’d check it out.”

jungkook looks at you skeptically, and the weight of his stare makes you shift uncomfortably.

“you wanna be a fuckgirl?”

“what?! no!” you almost choke on your drink, the suggestion catching you off guard.

he grins, clearly enjoying your reaction. “then you wanna fuck?”

“i don’t wanna fuck,” you snap. “at least, not you or any of these people.” you look away, feeling embarrassed at the bluntness of his and your words.

jungkook looks at you, puzzled for a moment, and then his eyes widen as he puts the pieces together. “hoseok?? you’re into hoseok? wow… i mean,” he clears his throat “i thought you didn’t like fuckboys.”

“since when is that any of your business?” you scoff, glaring at him.

he raises his hands in surrender, still grinning. “my bad. just curious.”

you face the other way, crossing your arms in frustration. first, you are not getting fucked tonight and you're mad. second, you’re sitting here with one of the cockiest guys on campus. none of this is what you had in mind for the night.

you groan internally, wondering if you’ve made a huge mistake.

“hey,” jungkook’s voice softens, and you turn your head slightly to look at him. “why so grumpy?” he teases and you roll your eyes yet again.

“oh, maybe because i’m not getting fucked tonight and i am stuck with the campus' favorite fuckboy,” you blurt out, regretting the words the second they leave your mouth.

his eyes widen a little, amusement flashing across his face. “hm, well, do you want me to call hoseok for you? i’m pretty sure he wouldn’t say no to a pretty girl like you.” he pulls out his phone, and you quickly reach out to stop him.

“no! what!? that’s embarrassing. what are you thinking?” your hand covers his phone, pushing it down, your fingers brushing against his.

jungkook pauses, looking at where your hand is touching his. his eyes flick up to meet yours, surprised, and you quickly pull your hand away, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “just… don’t try to help. i’m fine.”

“right,” he says, putting his phone away. “forgot you’re a little different.”

“different?” you ask, frowning.

“i mean, you clearly don’t fit in with the people here,” he says casually.

“i can if i want to,” you retort, not even sure why you’re trying to prove yourself to him.

he chuckles, raising an eyebrow. “yeah? prove it then”

you hesitate for a moment, unsure of what he expects. but there’s something in the way he’s looking at you that makes your pulse race.

“i was just joking, you don't have to— mmph!”

the kiss is quick. it ends as soon as it starts. when you pull back, his eyes are wide. he clearly did not expect that.

you feel a strange sense of pride wash over you, but the embarrassment quickly sets in. “i- uh, i have to go now,” you announce, hoping to make an exit before he can say something to make the situation worse.

“oh, uh sure,” he mutters, standing up as you do, but just as you're about to leave, he grabs your wrist.

“you sure you don't wanna fuck?” he asks, clearly teasing you.

“no. unlike you, i can keep it in my pants,” you retort, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

“weren't you mad that you weren't gonna get fucked tonight? i can totally help you, you know,” he offers.

“i am fine.” you say, turning around to leave, but he grabs your wrist once more.

“can i have your number at least?”

“what? no. why would i give my number to you?” you shoot back immediately, almost as if the question is absurd.

he frowns, looking genuinely offended. “you're mean. i just wanna be your friend. nothing wrong with being friends!!”

you pause for a moment, considering his words. it’s not like you’re opposed to having friends, but something about him being your friend feels weird. “i don't think that's—”

“come on, just think about it. you seem cool, and i am hot, it would work you know” he interrupts

“i am cool and you're hot? seriously?” you almost let out a scoffed laugh

“yeah, why not?” he presses, his eyes searching yours for an answer. “trust me, i’m not that bad.”

“you say that, but you're still a fuckboy,” you remind him

“maybe, but i can be a fun fuckboy,” he counters, a playful glint in his eyes. “what do you have to lose?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “this conversation is ridiculous.”

“so is this party,” he replies, grinning. “just give me a chance. what’s the worst that could happen?”

you hesitate, “uh well i don't really—”

“oh please, you literally just kissed me, and—”

“okay, okay!! fine. give me your phone,” you sigh, cutting him off before he can make a bigger deal out of it.

he grins, handing you his phone. you type in your number and your name, then hand it back to him.

“happy?” you ask.

“very,” he says, that signature cocky grin returning.

you roll your eyes, turning to walk away, but before you get too far, you hear him call out again, “any chance we could make out?”

without looking back, you yell.

“fuck off!”

[hell-heron]

Show VS books - Theon's choice

So, I was hoping to post this for show VS books day and also to have time to rewatch the show to factcheck my impressions, which was not possible as my streaming service failed me, so I welcome any corrections about what I am writing. (Please no insults or like. Objections to the general concept of comparing an adaptation to its source material or of sharing critical thoughts about things you don't like. I think these are fine and fun things to do, if you disagree, just do not read this lenghty tome).

Still, I wanted to talk about the way Theon's choice between fighting with his family and remaining loyal to Robb is framed in the show, even before taking a very obvious Stark-goggles view the way it did in the following seasons. In my opinion, the show handled the ACOk storyline very movingly with great acting and some great writing, but still fell into the trap of conveying a certain amount of "shouldn't it be a no brainer to pick friend who values you over bio family that hates you?" in ways that in many cases weren't the writing's fault as it was impossible for a TV show to convey the same nuances as the book, but in some other cases might have been avoided. Here's how imho:

Theon swearing fealty to Robb explicitely, everyone's favorite bugbear. Not one I am particularly attached to, because really I think Theon's situation of being sent, while technically a hostage, to negotiate an alliance with his father and being refused remains legally ambiguous and kind of unprecedented whether or not he swears specific words of fealty. If he didn't swear it in the books, did he not effectively do it by arranging an alliance with Robb anyway, even though he couldn't know whether that alliance would really work out, meaning it was always a conditional loyalty? If he did, is it really binding/something he had a choice about? Still, it gives a very different impression to the casual viewer.

General less established worldbuilding on the taboo of kinslaying and taking arms against family which is just inherent to the medium of short-season TV show VS enciclopaedic saga and couldn't really be helped

Not seeing Theon's inner thoughts on the matter of family, another thing which can't be helped, which show his attitude as more nuanced as he's very aware and critical of the toxicity of his father and brothers but still has an expectation of being welcomed. Thus the hint that he remembers being loved and valued as a child even in a broken dysfunctional way and so reasonably expects to be again on his return

Ditto re: Theon's thoughts on the political situation of the islands which he does have an understanding of and feels a sense of duty to improve, mixed with the desire for glory and being a hero to his people

Starting with some things that can be helped: absolutely 0 sense of the Islands as being in a crisis, destroyed, in poverty, or being damaged by Robert and Ned's host or having somewhat substantiated desires of revenge, besides the deaths of Rodrik and Maron.

Actually expanding on this point bc the show chose to not get to any extent into what the relationship between Theon and his brothers was like. In the books, Theon remembers being abused by them and only expresses a desire of revenge when it helps justify himself to his family, developing a frequent theme in the books that vengeance is often very much not a simple and natural feeling but selfish and weaponized. The show understandably doesn't get into this sort of thematic/psychological analysis, so why not use the deaths of Theon's brothers as something that has a bit more weight in his choice? It was not difficult or time consuming to add some comment about their childhood or about mourning them etc, not as difficult as doing some of the other stuff I mention on this list lmao. It would have built more sympathy for him.

Theon is apparently getting no official welcome besides his sister's initiative to seduce him (Its possible Balon sent Yara and Yara independently decided to seduce him, but it meshes kind of weirdly with the way she lets Theon in on his own and then makes her cinematic entrance in the middle of the conversation) in the book, while Theon is unhappy with Aeron due to his desire to have his parents welcome him instead and Aeron's change and attitude to him, he's objectively a perfectly good person to send to fetch the heir, as a close family member and a priest with great authority and respect.

Theon has no one who loves him on the islands, no mother, no Dagmer, no childhood friends he finds he can't quite connect with again, no Wex, no men who choose to remain loyal to him at Winterfell. Wex is particularly interesting because, while some interpret the offering of a disabled bastard squire as a sign of the ironborn noble families's disdain for Theon, I think it's actually a fairly normal feudalistic exchange of favors. After all Theon is asked to take Wex on as a squire as payment for his horse, so certainly with the understanding he's doing the Botleys a solid by giving an opportunity to a boy who would otherwise not be allowed many, and Lord Botley later champions Theon's claim against Euron. So this little detail could have been a helpful shorthand for Theon succeeding in developing some kind of relationships and loyalty on the islands which he could think he might have developed if he had time and proved himself

Theon in the show is given a ship for his diversion raids while Yara gets 30 ships that appear to be the entire deployed force (??), which is a lot more extreme than "Victarion gets the whole fleet, Asha gets 30 ships, Theon gets 8". The book arrangement feels like an insult to Theon but is reasonable for someone who was never a captain before and who's unknown to his father. The show arrangement is a lot more of an open insult that doesn't really allow us to understand Theon's hope to improve his standing.

Probably couldn't have been helped, given the tight timeline of the show, but: book Theon gets a shining military success, though one of modest proportions in his victory against Benfred Tallart's sortie, before he undertakes the mission to Winterfell, which makes the plan seem somewhat less dumb. Also taking Winterfell being his own idea rather than it being pushed by show!Dagmer shouldn't have huge weight in this but it does make his choice seem more motivated (by his own rage and revenge, for his own political aims) and less pathetic

Moving the pivotal execution of ser Rodrik so early after Theon's taking of Winterfell undercuts the slow descent into despair and violence that Theon experiences in the books. We're supposed to think Theon made an irremediably wrong choice when he burned the letter to Robb, rather than having several chances to stop himself on the path to becoming a child murderer which he for various reasons doesn't take.

While Alfie and for once imho the writing as well do a great job of conveying Theon's pain and trauma for what he went through at Winterfell, it was evidently chosen not to focus or even explicitely mention outside the worldbuilding videos (iirc) how Ned would have been expected to execute him and his fear of that. Skipping the Beth parley is obviously a factor in this (which I will never understand, btw, it seems so perfectly made for TV...) , but even the very beautiful emotional moments that were scripted to replace it just focus on other things. The dialogue with Master Luwin for example has Theon associate fear with the walls of Winterfell, in a line so good I frequently forget it wasn't in the books, but still there's a writing choice to center a fear that comes from a sense of intimidation and inferiority towards the people who defeated his family rather than the material reality of being constantly up for execution. That completely recontextualises the situation and his relationship to house Stark

The matter of Theon's men loyalty to him deserves some expansion in general because like... GRRM, for all that we tease him for the "what was Aragorn's tax policy" line, does invest much time and attention in portraying in detail the choices of all his leader characters, their popularity and relationships with their followers. So even Theon whose leadership skills are not very important gets the sketch of a nuanced political situation. We know that Theon leads his men into several missions before Winterfell, that he's able to convince Dagmer to support his plan to take Winterfell and that his men follow him in this high-risk mission, that he punishes them for fighting over plunder and for committing rape, that he has some of them killed and that he executes Northmen to give them a semblance of justice and is haunted by both, that he doesn't feel like they would keep the secret of the murdered boys' identity, that they grow restless and ambivalent during their time in Winterfell but still do their duty, that one of them specifically takes issue morally with him using Beth against her father and wishes they could just have an open battle, that he offers them the chance to surrender rather than die with him and they are reluctant to refuse it but most do it. There was never going to be anything like that in the brief plotline of a minor character, obviously, but needing to simplify, was really "they knock him out and hand him over to the enemy" the best simplification? It was for the theme they wanted to convey, which is that there was a right and a wrong choice obvious from the start and that poor Theon, understandably and tragically, chose wrong.

[proboblynotstriaght]

Probobly silly of me to do another screenshot post as I watch episode 45, but I'm in a good mood, and things seem pretty light so far so

Minor spoilers under the cut

Kremy getting jump scared but something only he sees legitimately startles everyone else lol!

I love his face when he does the funny expressions

"Second worst way to die is... getting mauled by a bear, and the first one is drowning!" "Ohhhh, Agdon did both of thoooose"

"I don't know if you know this about me but I'm an empath..."

"... So I am uniquely qualified to tell you he died in terrible, terrible agony" "ohhhh, only you Gricko"

I think Richie just like startling people

"It's like the knife fight the the Yuu Yuu Haku show in the dark tournament" "I have no idea what that means'

AND MACE ROLLS A NATURAL 20!!!!

"I'm going to dread both of them, I'm just kidding that would ruin your life forever"

The train whistle makes a fun noise

"Hold on I didn't think about damage" *empties bag full of dice and.... bananyas?*

I just realized that my brother has the same exact shirt that Mikey is wearing but in a child size lmao !!! I think the shirt is from like, Old Navy

"Oh you still take damage, 8 points of cold damage"

Gricko summoning the Bananyas "I'm going to take all of these I'm not sharing"

He's actually stuffing the foam banana in his mouth! lol!

"It is wild how often we fight monsters with erections"

Andy, whispering : Ask a question Kremy, ask it

Maces face was too funny to not put in

"Here blow on my dice... Thanks Gid"

Richie, singing : ~I wanna know what the plaque saays~

"That gave me swoose-bumps" "that was good, that was good"

"Did that mean anything, or was it just some weird shit to say before you give someone the mummies curse"

"It's not a threat it's a promise because threats are empty"

*Nikkie, retelling the poem* *Derek miming frost telling Kremy the clifnotes*

"I'm gonna guess that it's time" "time for what?" "It isn't a riddle Gricko" "It's time to eat more Bananyas"

"There's only one thing I've ever done against my own free will swoose, and this ain't it"

"So it's not really Frosts thing" "Yeah, sorry Frosty" "I know"

"... and then there was man, from a certain point of view, who had giant pumpkins" great retelling of the King of Hearts (als my wife, trust me) Gricko, 10/10

"We hit rock bottom and we picked up shovels" there's so many banger quotes in this episode that you would never guess the funnier context

[crowleys-bentley-and-plants]

BIG SIS 😌💛

EYBE IM FIGHTING YOU

tell me what my vibes are

[fairyroses]

He was about to kill you, Lex. Or divulge something you didn't want me to know.

— SMALLVILLE, "Forever" (4.21)

+ bonus from "Arctic" (7.20):

[yourdeepestfathoms]

The you have any headcanon about Perrine and The Croon?

Perrine has an affinity for skulls because of The Croon, and they’re mainly the reason why she likes to collect them

The Croon refers to her as “calf”

Perrine sometimes catches glimpses of a tall figure out of her window at night, standing among the distant trees, hidden by just enough shadow to make her wonder if she’s just seeing things

The Croon gifts her skulls, bones, and small dead animals

When people say The Croon is evil, she’s the first to jump to its defense

However, Perrine does have a healthy dose of fear for The Croon

She doesn’t know why this is

But there’s always a level of wariness she feels towards it

There was this one night…

It was cold. The wind was blowing. Branches brushing against the cottage were like clawing fingers on the walls, desperate to get inside.

Perrine woke up.

Or maybe she had never fallen asleep in the first place.

She couldn’t remember.

It didn’t matter.

She got up from her bed.

All around her, the moonlight bleeding in through her window pooled ghoulishly into the empty black eyes of her animal skulls.

It felt like they were all watching her.

At first, she had gotten up to get a glass of water. Her mouth was dry, and the space behind her eyes was uncomfortably warm. But at the same time, she was covered in goosebumps.

But then, she found herself drawn outside.

Grass crunched under bare feet.

She didn’t even flinch from the cold.

Like she was in some kind of trance, she found herself delving into the woods.

And then, she saw it.

The towering beast of feathers and bone. It stood among the trees, nearly obscured by darkness.

The Croon.

She was scared.

She wasn’t sure why she was scared. She based her whole image around this beast, after all. She wore the moose mask because of it.

And yet…she trembled.

And then, she spoke.

“What’s the point of you?”

She asked it without thinking. It was a question that had been brewing in her head for ages.

“I mean…you embody and represent chaos…”

The Croon tilted their head for a moment, as if considering the question. The quiet night air was tense.

“Chaos…is beautiful and destructive. It’s everywhere, and it’s all-consuming. It doesn’t need any apparent purpose. It merely is. It destroys and makes and changes…over and over again. That is what I represent. Change is necessary. Everything must die, and from the destruction, something new is born. After a wildfire, flowers will bloom from the ashes.”

“But people like the flowers. Not the fire.”

“Perhaps. But they need the fire. They need the chaos and the change. Even if it destroys them. There is no new life without death, and there is no death without chaos.”

“But, you still destroy things. Why can’t you have something new without destruction? Why change?”

“Destruction..is just part of the cycle. It’s a part of change. There is beauty in decay. Death and destruction can be…art. The changing of the seasons, the wilting of flowers, the withering fall leaves… Even the most positive change is destruction for something else. Destruction and chaos are required for rebirth, for evolution. Because of change, everything is different, and everything is unique. There are no two things that are exactly the same, down to the last detail.”

“My friend, Cole, lost their parents in a horrible way. Is that supposed to be beautiful? Or necessary?”

“…Perhaps not. Not all destruction is beautiful or necessary. But not all death is cruel or senseless either. After all…without death, would you appreciate life at all? When an animal dies, and it decomposes, the earth gains the nutrients it gives to grow new flowers and new grass. New life. Even a death as horrible and cruel as that can still give new life to the plants and earth around it. It is the same with humans. A death, even a cruel and horrible one, can lead to new life for the remaining family or loved ones…or to the end of a destructive, hurtful cycle.”

“Cole has suffered since their parents’ death. There was no hurtful cycle to break! It’s not fair!”

“Death isn’t fair.”

Its voice had dropped to a low, almost guttural growl that shook her to the bones. But its empty eye sockets still held an eerie sense of calm.

“Life…isn’t fair. People die. Families are torn apart, homes and villages are destroyed. It’s the nature of the world. It’s a necessary evil.”

“…I don’t want to be a necessary evil.”

[dragzo]

oh Red Son no-

[uncanny-tranny]

You know, I feel like other trans people might get this, but it's honestly kind of refreshing when a cis person has, like, undeniable tboy/tgirl/whatever swag. It's like when you come across somebody who speaks the same language as you and you only find out when they start speaking it, too.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Reminiscene

Hello everyone :3

You all know what time it is!! I think... It is time for another Dream drabble :3 @spotaus I know how much you like having dream be put through the ringer :33

First drabble Prev drabble Next drabble

Not much to say this time. You guys ready?

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All things considered? Dream had been doing okay lately.

The worst part was that he wasn't sure if he felt good or bad about it.

At least Core didn't call him every 5 minutes anymore. Seems like the outcode child finally accepted that Dream had changed. That Dream had moved on.

Hah.

If only they knew how little he had actually moved on.

Dream stands in the greyed out forest. Waiting and listening. Not even a slight breeze. No sound.

A dead AU.

He used to blame Nightmare for that, for killing their AU.

Nowadays?

Dream figures it was just the end of their AU.

Dream leans against a tree and sighs. He tries to reach out but no sounds.

On his solo trips and, as Blue liked to call them, self discovery trips. Dream had learned he could speak to trees. Though maybe calling it speaking was a bit generous.

The trees didn't use words. Just sounds and whistles and whispers that could almost have been words. Dream had still been able to understand however. He just had to listen.

Seems like that was a theme for him. He just had to listen to be able to understand.

Even so, he takes a deep breath and leaves the forest and walks towards a familiar hill.

He kept returning here. Dream wants to say he doesn't know why and that it is just his home calling back for him.

He knows the truth.

He stops by the old cut down stump and focusses on the two familiar graves.

Seems like he hadn't been the only one visiting. There are once again fresh flowers. All beautifull yellows and orange coloured this time.

Dream smiles as he sits by the graves and gently touches the flowers. Part of his soul grieves at the two graves, once of which is meant for him. But another part of his soul sings in joy.

Because there is only one monster who could have made these graves and left these flowers.

Dream chuckles as he glances at the stump "Nighty came by... didn't he?"

No answer of course. Nim has died a long time ago. Even so Dream leans back against the stump as he keeps looking at the graves, most of his focus is on his own.

Dream keeps staring at the graves as he speaks "I know you won't answer me... with you being gone.. But... I want to at least think you are listening to me. Just this once."

Nim never listened to him. Neither to Nighty. They just had to listen to her.

Look at where that lead them.

Dream watches over the grey fields and the village in the distance. "Had you already decided near the start? Which one of us you would love and which one you wouldn't?"

No answer but Dream didn't mind. He watches the village in the distance. He can't help but wonder how often Nightmare would have had to do this alone. Keep watch alone.

"Or was it an in the moment decision? Had there been a moment were you held both of us and loved us both? Or had you decided the moment Nightmare formed that you would hate him?"

How often Dream would rush off, ignoring the quiet pleas to stay wiht Nightmare.

"I think you decided from the start. Why else would you give him the name you did? Say the only thing that matters about him is how he was different from me."

Would he have seen those angry people coming? With weapons? Had Nightmare been afraid? Wondering where Dream had been? Why Dream hadn't stopped them?

"It has to be the reason. Why else would you tell me to make friends with the villagers and help them? While telling Nightmare to stay put and send them away? You must have known. Known that by making me help them and by making Nightmare deny them that they would grow angry with him."

How often had Nightmare believed Dream had abandoned him? Only for him to end up mortally injured?

"You don't deserve the grave he made." Not that Dream thinks he truly deserves one himself. Even if he returns each time to see if new flowers are left for him.

Dream once again wonders if he should leave a message for the next time Nighty visits... Just something that he wishes to talk.

But then that ever present fear returns. What if it meant Nightmare wouldn't visit this place anymore instead of answering? What if he decided it was better to completely cut their past lose from him instead?

Dream hugs his legs as he tries to remember how colourful everything had been. How beautiful it had been.

But... Dream now realises that it had just been a prison of responsibility... For both him and his brother.

A golden cage... but still a cage.

Drema snorts as he nudges Nim's grave "Yet here you are! immortalised by a grave your son made you! You know. That same son you aparently never liekd or wanted? That son made you a grave and keeps said grave clean and brings you flowers. I bet you wouldn't even be thankful for it."

Dream knocks the stump with his fist "After all! How often did you tell me that I should focus on myself? How i should focus on making the villagers like me? How i shouldn't bother to wait for Nighty to return from the river?" Nim had been trying to seperate them from the start. A dream had never realised.

Dream sighs as he hugs his legs "We were children. Little babybones and you gave us adult responsibilities...." They should have just ran. the two of them should have just disappeared into the forest.

Nighty had asked him a few times if they couldn't just leave together.

Dream should have realised something was seriously wrong. Nighty had been the one who took their jobs so seriously.

But... Dream had just said he didn't want to leave his friends in the village behind.

"I wish i could turn back time... get a redo... I would stay by Nightmare's side. I would convince him that the job you gave us wasn't our job."

Dream wonders why Nightmare had been so set on doing their job so well... Dream has ideas but none of them are happy reasons.

"What... waht did you tell him? That made him desperate to do this job well?" Which lies had Nim told Nightmare in Dream's absence...?

Dream hugs his legs "Why did you never bother to tell me?" Dream grows angry as he huffs "Why did you never bother to tell me the same? Or tell me when Nighty was near? Or tell nighty when I was near? What was it you were trying so hard to protect?!"

A memory. from so long long ago. It had been raining and Nightmare hadn't been around. Ligthning had been flashing and Dream had been so afraid. His mother had help him within her branches. protected him. reassured him he would be safe. told him...

told him that Dream just had to protect himself. protect the hope he represented...

Dream laughs as he kicks the grave of his mother. glaring at it angerly "Was it worth it?! Was it worth killing one of your sons to protect the other?! Was it worth being the cause of all this pain and suffering we both had to go through?!" Dream shakes his skull as he gets up "Nevermind. You are never going to give me answers... and honestly. I am tired of you being a part of my life in anyway. I hope you rot whereever you are now." and he walks back to the forest.

It is silent and he prefers it like that. Things had been loud and hectic.

And well...

Maybe just maybe... He had done the same as Nightamre had done.

He gets to the forest lake and immediantly spots the tiny grave.

Well not grave. Dream shies away from that word. Nightmare is very much alive after all. It is more like a memorial... Wait those can be made for living people right? drema thinks so.

It was nice. It gave him a safe place to grieve and talk about everything. to imagine Nightmare across from him and listening to him. Like old times.

Dream figures that is why his own grave nad Nim's are still up. Dream knows Nightmare has to come by to take care of both graves and Dream snorts as he imagines Nightmare just telling the two graves in all the things they had been wrong in and all the stupid lies they believed.

For now he sits down and pulls out a few little knick-knacks he had collected form across the multiverse.

Dream keeps his voice quiet. Afraid someone will hear and come ruin it "Hey little brother..." he can't forget anymore that Nightmare had been his younger twin. Yet it had always been Nightmare who took care of him. "I am back..."

finally back.

Dream traces the stone and wood structure he had made. all still in perfect condition. With the AU being dead there was no more decay.

Dream organises everything he had left before sitting across from it "Sorry it took me a while. I had a.... I had an identity crisis." he snorts "I know. ironic isn't it? Everyone was always so quick to help and guide me to be what i should be yet it helped nothing. I still ended up unsure about who i was or what i had to do..."

he looks at the snowglobe he had put down "I was always jealous of how you just seemed to have it all figured out. How you were confident in what you did. Both before and after the apples. it felt like i was failing, and i guess in the end i did fail as everything i believed had been a lie..."

Dream sighs as he leans his cheek on his knee as he keeps looking at the structure "It is stupid... I had all the help in the world, and then even the multiverse. and yet still i didn't figure it out. I still didn't figure out i was a god of balance over positivity. I still didn't figure out i was doing more harm than good..."

Dream traces the grey grass under him "I was so against picking a domain Nighty... partly because i didn't want to pick something and get you stuck with something you would be hated for. Not again... but that wasn't all."

Dream hugs his legs and confesses what had been weighing him down "I was afraid of picking wrong. No, I am afraid of picking soemthing wrong. That i will pick something and once again not understand it... How did you do it Nightmare? How did you figure out what you were suposed to do? You didn't have help yet you understood...."

Drema chuckles and rubs his cheek "Not that it matters anymore. aparently i did already pick... Reaper confirmed it for me not too long ago... a god of progress. What the hell does that even mean? What does it mean i should do? I know i aparently helped blue by inspiring him to get out of that loop but still! That was on accident! what if i once again go to far?! what if i..." he hides his face "What if i mess up again?"

Guilt and Dream chuckles "Here i go again... whining about my trouble... I don't even know what my choice and pick do you... what is even the oposite of progress?! regression? Did i make it so you are stuck with like... reset stuff?!" he sighs as he rubs his cheek and rubs the tears away "This shit is so unfair... neither of us ever asked for this. We never wanted this and no one tried to help us before yet expected us to just know."

Dream stares at the memorial. no answers of course but he does feel better after speaking about his worries.

Dream chuckles as he pats the memorial gently "But.... that wasn't why i am here. As you know... today is a special day!" he turns to his pack and pulls out a bottle. it is champagne. and a few cupcakes. he lays the cupcakes between him and the structure before putting a candle on both cupcakes and lighting them.

Dream smiles as he opens the bottle and holds it up to the grave "It is our birthday!"

Dream rubs his neck "I know it must seem weird. after all! For the last i don't even know how many years i had so many people to celebrate with and so many powers and even before that it were the villagers but... well..."

his voice grows softer and softer "I miss when it was just us. After we collected berries and fresh fruits. when we would sneak off together and sit by the river to eat the fruits together and give each other small gifts..." he pulls a small wooden statue from his pack.

Dream looks at it and rubs the wood. He had spend weeks on it. an old familiar skill now unfamiliar and feeling alien in his hands. he managed to make a small owl at least. even if one eye was clearly bigger than the other and Dream now had more splinters in his hands then ever before, even more than he first started.

He places it carefully in front of the memorial "I know it... it isn't my best work... I am going to be honest, it is porbably my worst..." he just hadn't had time to try again. He tried so many times but none of them have looked right and as time went by it just kept getting worse and suddenly he didn't have time anymore.

Dream chuckles "It sucks that i.... i didn't keep up with the hobby... I hope you kept reading at least... that you had the chance to keep reading... your picture and castle seemed to reinforce this at least... there were so many books in there! and the picture of you reading..." he rubs his arm as he keeps sitting right there "I am sorry... that you felt like he had to leave and run from your home... again..." he glances down adn chuckles "look at me... rambling... lets blow out the candles okay? I will blow out both. Don't forget to make a wish."

Drema leans down and blows out the candles on both cupcakes before putting his hands together and making his wish.

A silent whisper in his mind.

please.

please.

Just give him the chance to meet Nightmare again.

To talk to him one more time.

If only once to tell him he is sorry and that Dream loves him.

Dream opens his sockets and smiles at the grave, ignoring the tears that are leaving his sockets "Did you make a wish nightmare? Remember. No telling! otherwise it wont come true!"

Dream takes the two cupcakes and eats both before opening the champagne bottle and drinking straight from it. He isn't a fan of stuff like this but champagne is suposed to be for celebrations and well... celebrating himself and his twin seems like a good reason.

He spends his afternoon like that. just being in his old AU thinking back.

Fitting. a god of progress... stuck thinking about the past.

Dream chuckles and sighs "Blue said it is fine you know? To take time and get used to everything... I just hope... that you are doing the same... taking your time to rest after everything. I can only imagine how exhausting it would ahve been to have to do everything you did while everyone was actively working against you..." he smiles up "Good news for that though! I managed to visit pretty much everyone who knew either of us personally or about us! And i managed to explain the situation! so.. hopefully... whever you are or are planning on going, people will let you be and do your thing..."

Dream smiles at the memorial with the raised bottle "to us. to the future... and... I miss you... I am sorry i didn't make it obvious how much you mean to me..."

That had to be the reason why Nightmare hadn't searched him out yet... because he beleived that Dream hated him.

And that is on Dream. On dream for not doing a good job as brother and making it obvious that he loved his twin.

Dream hums as he leans against the stone structure "I love you nighty. And I promise you, I will make it up to you once we meet again."

Maybe that is why he is the god of progress. Because he is willing to move forwards and make it up. progress towards a new future.

Dream blinks and laughs "I bet you would have heard my title and figured it out immediantly." he giggles as he leans against the stone "Happy birthday Nightmare."

Happy birthday to me.

Dream sips the expensive bottle and enjoys the peace and silence.

*-------------------------*

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[add1ctedt0you]

What a plot twist you were. [x]

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Chapter 110 is 13 pages long welcome to hell!!! so in a lot of ways this is just more fuel for a theory that I've had for a few weeks now, that's only gotten stronger with each recent season 5 episode, which is that the last episode of the season is gonna end on 110, and that Asagiri/Harukawa and Bones have been collaborating to make this happen, specifically because it's a major turning point that would be the only good place to end the season on.

When we started getting especially long chapters again (like from 25-35ish pages, with the exception of 107.5, the last two being some of the longest we've ever had), at first I just assumed that Asagiri/Harukawa got freed up from some other obligations they'd been having to cause the extremely short/half chapters, like promotional stuff for the anime/Beast movie, or working on light novels. But then 109 happened, with the "supposed" death of Dazai, and heavy emphasis at the end on how literally everyone is at their lowest point right now, and I got to thinking. 11 episodes is a strangely specific number for an anime season -- why not 12, or 13, or even 10, like you'd usually see? Why have we gotten suddenly gotten two 35 page chapters out of nowhere, that's almost unheard of at this point? They're both beautiful chapters, don't get me wrong (as always), and maybe A/H simply just didn't want to cut them in halves because they felt like the full emotional impact wouldn't hit/that there were no good cutoff points in them, but you can't deny that it's surprising, after all the shorter chapters we've been getting. Why has the anime been going at such insanely breakneck pacing for the most part ever since around the Sunday Tragedy chapters, even more so than it has in the past? So much so that it feels dangerously close to overtaking the manga?

Well, maybe, just maybe, it's because..... Asagiri decided a long time ago that whatever happens in 110 is the only point that feels "season finale"-worthy enough, in an arc that still isn't anywhere close to being completely wrapped up, and so both the manga and the anime have been specifically coordinated to reach that part within 2 and a half weeks of each other?

I've seen a lot of people now think season 5 will end with 109, and as much as my sadistic side would find that hilarious, I honestly don't think they'd do that and realistically don't want it to happen; it'd be so cruel to cliffhanger the anime for years like that, and just doesn't feel like a season cliffhanger BSD would do, a series that is ultimately hopeful and uplifting. Seasons 2 and 3 had a positive, conclusive ending; the only reasons seasons 1 and 4 didn't was because they're technically not really full seasons of their own, and are more like the first cour of another "season" that also came out that same year (seasons 1 and 2 both aired in 2016, so they're more like one big season, and seasons 4 and 5 have both aired this year, so they're also more like one big season, again taking into account how episodes 12 and 50 are not satisfying finales like episodes 24, 37, and hypothetically, 61, are). I really can't see season 5 ending with Dazai and Fukuzawa's supposed deaths, Sigma being unconscious and maybe close to death, Atsushi being vulnerable and limbless again, everyone we love still vampires, and the entire world being basically doomed; that's just too depressing and not like BSD at all. However, having said that, if it doesn't end there, there really isn't any good place to end the season before that, either, that feels in any way satisfying or like a finale at all. And so, to me, that only leaves after 109: chapter 110.

I think things are really gonna turn around next chapter. Like I said, everyone is at their lowest point right now, it cannot possibly get any worse, the framing of Dazai, Fukuzawa, and sskk at the end of 109 is telling us that; this is the time for the heroes to finally start winning again, with Aya being so close to pulling out the sword, and for all the thematic reasons other people have talked about to death that I don't need to go into here again. This upcoming chapter being so short again makes a part of me wary of 110 being "the one", so to speak, I won't lie, but at the same time, it's very possible that it needs to be that short because that's all the final episode of the season will be able to reasonably fit in, since it's already gonna be VERY close if they do make it all the way to 109. And at the end of the day, I don't doubt at all that Asagiri and Harukawa can make these the most monumental and game-changing mere 13 pages ever if they wanted to; a chapter does not at all need to be extremely long in order to be an important and impactful one, even if short ones we've gotten in the past haven't felt the most important.

An additional thought I've had, though this is much more crack territory than all this already is, is that since we know from Anime Expo that a Stormbringer movie at some point is highly likely (judging from Asagiri's reaction when someone brought it up), it's possible that chapter 110 and thus the final episode will involve the long-anticipated return of Verlaine and/or Adam, or at least some other major reference to Stormbringer, that would naturally and smoothly lead into a Stormbringer movie to explain things to people who haven't read the novel. It would make a lot of sense, especially since the s4 OP has the Old World sign behind Chuuya, which might be a hint that this has been in the works ever since seasons 4/5 were first in planning with Asagiri. We also know that Dazai and Chuuya's voice actors apparently struggled to record their lines together this season, which probably relates to 101 and possibly 109, but it could be 110 too.... I could be very wrong, as I'm no expert on this kind of thing, but I kinda doubt they would bring Chuuya's actor in for just the vampire growls, and Asagiri placing heavy emphasis on Chuuya's importance this season in that one interview gives me the impression that he's talking about much more than just 101/109. But that's the least solid evidence I have, that's just mostly based on vibes I get.

So basically, I think a lot of factors -- the unusual episode count, how close the anime is to catching up to the manga with three whole episodes left, the seemingly arbitrary recent chapter lengths, and the climactic events of 109 -- can tell us that 110 might be a very, VERY big deal. Again, there's of course no way this arc is anywhere near close to being finished, with so much left to address and resolve, but since it is currently incomplete in the manga, unlike the previously adapted arcs, if the anime was going to adapt it at all, they'd have to find a place that feels satisfying enough to end this season, knowing there won't be more anime for a long time after this, and so I think they specifically planned for that, from both Bones' and A/H's sides. 10 episodes might not have been enough to reach that point, but 12 or 13 might have been too many it wouldn't have been if Bones actually decided to slow down and let the story breathe the way it needs to, but this post isn't meant to criticize the anime, so maybe 11 was just right. And maybe Asagiri and Harukawa specifically pushed to make recent chapters longer than usual, in order to make sure that the manga reached the story content in 110 the monthly release right before season 5 was to end.

Is this just copium? Absolutely. Am I going to look like an absolute clown in two days when this post ages like milk? Probably. But the evidence is There, so let me just enjoy my delusions until Sunday, okay 🥂🫡

[blujayonthewing]

[svtskneecaps]

ngl if streams get dry i think qsmpblr should create some initiative where we day by day watch the series over again in order. give it some fuckin stupid ass tag name like "qsmp reverse redux" for proper filtering and tag it all as vodblogging and set ourselves loose on bits of the series that some people may never have had a chance to watch because this series moves SO. GODDAMN FAST. and there's barely ever time for vodwatching.

pick your pov or watch multiple who cares but it has to be in our pocket dimension reverse time day. a qsmp electric boogaloo. idc if we have to make a fucking discord server to keep track of what day we're on or to maybe even coordinate those "watch2gether" youtube tool groups or whatever it was so those who feel inclined to twitch chat can still feel the feeling of being in a live chat except the streamers can't hear you.

i just think it would be fun. and i like liveblogging with y'all. and not everybody was around from day 1, so we can try to give them that. unfortunately we missed the exact one year so it'd be a bit messy but who the fuckkkkk cares :D