#beginning to think i should've just posted all of these together

[mohnaka]

Asara Deyn and Riko Vess Concept Art (via Iuliia Misiul on ArtStation)

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Deja Vu | Jeon Jungkook | One Shot

Summary: Life hadn't gone down the path you had hoped for but the one who made that choice for you isn't someone you want to see ever again. Pairing: f!reader x Jungkook, childhood friends Word Count: 3k~ a/n: I wrote this last night in one go so I figured I might as well post it...let me know if you guys would like to see this from Jungkook's pov 👀 p.s. I got lazy and hardly edited this but I hope you guys like it lol Oh and this is loosely based off of the very beginning of Deja Vu by Tomorrow x Together

My fingers ghost along the spines of the books I pass by, looking for something that might catch my eye because yes sometimes I do judge a book by it's cover.

Finding one that seems interesting enough I turn it over, reading the summary of the fifth romance novel I've picked up since I've been here but when the bell on the door jingles giving notice of a newcomer I turn to see who it is...and I really I wish I hadn't.

My palms instantly clam up leaving me nervously wiping them off on my sweater so I don't damage the book but I can't let go of it since it's my only form of shelter, hiding in plain sight from the person I hoped to never see again.

Curiosity get's the best of me though, watching as he sits down and pulls out his laptop at one of the tables in this cafe bookstore hybrid, one of my favorites places in the city that I'll probably never come to again in fear of running into him.

He pulls a camera out of his bag and takes the memory card out before putting it in his computer to upload it's contents.

I guess he did end up becoming a photographer like he always wanted.

It's strange seeing someone who was so important to you for so many years become someone you barely even recognize. But that's the thing, I do recognize him and I hate the fact that no matter how hard I try I can't help think of him often. How is he doing? What does his life look like now? Has he finally found someone to love like I have?

Seeing him makes me doubt everything though, but that's just what he does. He makes it impossible for me not to be drawn to him, wanting to talk to him, to laugh with him, to be with him.

I thought I had moved past that. Thought that this silly little childhood crush had been nothing but that, a stupid crush that I finally grew out of.

But seeing him here tells me it's everything but that.

I look from him to the book I'm hiding behind, trying to distract myself and with the amount of effort I'm putting in it actually works...for a little while.

My eyes are begging me to let them wander again, indulge in the desire to observe him even if nothing comes from it and once I decide that one more look can't hurt instead of meeting his brows furrowed in concentration I meet his eyes.

His soft chocolate brown eyes that I've willed myself not to drown in time and time again are looking back at me, a soft smile reaching his lips when he finally sees me notice him making me sick to my stomach. 

Turning as subtly as I can I walk further into the maze of shelves around me, praying his interest in me was only fleeting and that he in fact did not recognize me.

After a few minutes of hiding in the corner that not many notice as it's a rather unpopular genre I let out the breath that I had decided to hold at some point, my need to be invisible necessary to my survival but when I decide the coast is clear and walk out of my little nook I bump into the exact person I wish I had never met all those years ago.

He holds onto my forearm as he sees me stumble back, unsure of if this minor collision would result in a fall and with his help, that I hate to admit I needed in the moment, prevents that mortifying occurrence from happening.

"I'm sorry that was my fault" he says and lets go of my arm, thankfully noticing how uncomfortable I am with his touch from my body language. "No it was mine, I should've been more careful coming out from behind that corner" I admit, a common courtesy after interactions like this, neither one wanting to admit it was the other persons fault.

"Well regardless I'm sorry" he says and I nod my head, looking down at the floor to avoid giving him a chance to recognize me. "I'm glad I caught you though, a fall against a bookshelf doesn't sound the most desirable" he chuckles, hoping to diffuse the awkward air around us but there's no use in him trying. He made that decision for the both of us a long time ago...

*Seven years ago*

"Please say something" I mumble, the five feet between us feeling like we're lightyears away, the silence a twin to the vacuum that is space.

He's right there but I know I've lost him for good with this stupid decision. "I don't know what to say" he mumbles right back leaving me scoffing in disbelief. "Then make something up. Anything is better than this" I say in reference to the radio silence between us since I decided to confess to him.

I know I shouldn't have done it. I know I'm selfish for telling him after all of these years and not simply fessing up to how I felt about him long ago but I was afraid that something like this might happen, and I was right. 

I hate that when it comes to him that I'm always right.

I could let us part ways and go to college leaving things left unsaid but I stupidly hoped that we could make it work. Do long distance so we wouldn't feel the need to go on dates or even worry about getting physical if it got to that point.

In my silly little crush clouded brain I thought that he would at least give us a shot but I know it was useless.

I know he doesn't feel the same way about me but I didn't realize it was gonna be this fucking hard.

"Just say something!" I say, raising my voice at him since I need to do something to keep myself from suffocating. "What do you fucking want me to say?" he throws back, getting just as upset but he has no reason to be acting like this, not when he holds our future in the palm of his hand.

"Say you don't like me, say you're not into me like that because from this reaction alone I know you probably don't feel the same way! Anything but this..." I say, my tone harsh but softening at the end, wanting to be mad at him but he's done nothing wrong. 

Nothing except for giving me false hope that we could be something more.

"I don't know how I feel about you" he admits and I scoff. "Well when you figure it out, you know where to find me" I say and pick up my bag that I had discarded on the table I had been sat on, waiting for him to finally show up.

I had decided to do this off campus.

We're seniors and although the rumors and humiliation from his rejection wouldn't go around for long it wasn't worth it to have the off chance of an audience.

No doubt they'll still circulate since the two of us have been conjoined at the hip since childhood but keeping the actual event from prying eyes was the best I could do.

I take one last look at him but his eyes are turned down, not even able to look me and so I walk to my car as fast as I can, holding back the stupid fucking tears that I told myself I would never cry.

I've always been told that boys aren't worth my tears, but he's not just some boy...

*Back to present time*

"Right um, thanks" I say and continue to look at my shoes, noticing the small scuff marks that I had accumulated from the many trips out I had taken them on, anything to distract myself from the man in front of me.

"I uh, I noticed you reading over there," he says, waving towards the general direction he had seen me at, "thought I would come over and introduce myself" he says, not letting me go with that simple apology for the unfortunate opening to us meeting again, though he doesn't know yet that we have absolutely no need for an introduction.

"Do you hunt down and force introductions with strangers often?" I mumble, wanting to be taken as closed off and disinterested as possible. He chuckles and I fucking hate how it makes my heart flutter, the same sound I had heard time and time again, although a little deeper now but no less charming.

"No, not often, but I didn't want to miss my opportunity since you decided to run off as soon as I caught your eye" he says, pointing out my obvious efforts of escape.

"I'm Jungkook" he says after there's been a lull in the conversation, holding out his hand for me to shake and after a pregnant pause I decide to take it, offering at least a common courtesy since I'm not the asshole in this relationship, or lack there of.

"It's nice to meet you" he says and I mumble the same sentiment back, not meaning a single word of it. "Do you talk to people's shoes often?" he teases as I haven't met his eyes since that initial glance, one he found inviting where as I felt was an ignition to my fight or flight, and unfortunately for me, yet fortunately for him, I chose wrong.

"That's not what I'm doing" I say, finally facing him, the difference in height a lot bigger than I remembered, his amused smile making it even more nerve racking, my body begging me to get the hell out of here.

"Then what is it that you were doing?" he asks, a crooked smile on his face but when a couple of beats passes by without me giving him an answer he takes that time to study me and when I see his expression changes to one of recognition I know there's no use in trying to get away unscathed.

"Yn?" he asks, my name no doubt feeling foreign on his lips but the way it sound to me is heartbreaking, a sound that I had hoped I would never hear again.

I decide to just look up at him, facing my fear since the answer to his barely articulated inquiry is quiet obvious to him now.

"What has it been, five year? Six years?" he asks, his eyes lighting up and his tone a relaxed one as if this is a happy reunion, showing that my feelings had really meant nothing to him.

"Seven actually" I say and he sighs in disbelief, "Has it really been that long?" he asks, a stupid question that could’ve been solved by a couple of seconds of mental math but I just hum as a response and try to walk past him, my first efforts of escape.

"Woah woah woah, where are you going?" he asks as if he had a right to keep me here. "Home" I say and try to walk down the path that'll lead me out of this bookstore that feels a lot smaller now.

"Do you have a second? I thought we could catch up? Maybe grab a coffee or something?" he suggests, nodding towards the cafe and I sigh, trying to think of the best way to shoot him down but luckily I don't have to, at least not now.

"I've been looking everywhere for you" David, my fiancé says, placing a just barely there kiss on my cheek as a way to somewhat establish our relationship to this unknown man in front of me.

When there's been another pause with me making no efforts of introduction David decides to take the initiative. "David" he says simply, holding out his hand for Jungkook to shake and he gives his name right back, their eye contact quickly broken as Jungkook's decided to bring his eyes back to me.

"Honey who's this?" David asks in a soft tone, placing a hand on my waist in reassurance, showing me he's not upset after finding me talking to this mystery man from his perspective. 

"We used to be friends back in school" Jungkook says when I still decide to hold my tongue, making this interaction even more uncomfortable than it needs to be but I have no obligation to make this go smoothly. His admission to having lost touch cracks open up a scab on my heart that I thought had healed long ago. 

"Oh, so you guys grew up together?" David asks and Jungkook nods. "Yeah...we did" he says softly, still looking at me as I've decided to look away from him after a few exchanges between the two of them.

"Honey do you think you could pull the car around? I'm sure he has something to get back to, as do we" I say, hoping he won't mind following my request without a need to ask for clarification. "Sure love, I'll text you when I'm out front" he says, him knowing that I'd no doubt like I second to wrap things up alone while remembering that we had to park pretty far away as it's an uncharacteristically busy day today.

"Thanks" I mouth to him and he places a kiss on my temple before holding his hand out for Jungkook again. "It was nice to meet you" he says and Jungkook nods half heartedly, "Yeah, you too" and he watches his back for a second as David leaves before turning his attention back to me.

"Boyfriend?" he asks unceremoniously, "Fiancé, actually" I say and he looks down and indeed sees the beautiful ring David had gotten me.

"Wow! Um, congratulations" he says, trying his hand at a halfhearted sentiment but failing miserably. "Yeah we've been together for four years so we figured it was time" I say and he nods his head giving me a sad smile.

"Well I'm happy for you" he says softly and I scoff, "No" I say abruptly to the point he flinches. "No?" he says as if he had never uttered the word before.

"You do not get to act like a kicked puppy because you didn't think I would move on" I say and place my pointer finger on his chest and he steps back as I apply pressure.

"What do you mean? I only said I was happy for you" he says as if he hadn't put on the saddest doe eyes he has ever given me. "You know you've gotten even more transparent with age" I say and he goes to open his mouth but I'm not done with him yet.

"You waltzed over here probably thinking I was just some cute girl that you wanted to shoot your shot with but when you found out it was me you wanted to what? Get a coffee? Act like nothing ever happened? Go back to the way we were? Or did you think you actually had a shot with me after everything you put me through?" I say practically shaking from the intensity of the words that I can't stop from coming out.

No warmth, no compassion left in my tone, just pure anger and disgust and I can tell from the way he's no longer carrying himself as confidently as before, he wasn't expecting this kind of a reaction from me.

After another pause as painful as the one all those years ago I scoff again, crossing my arms over my chest, losing patience with this conversation. "You gonna say something or are you still trying to figure out how you feel about me? Or better yet did you even bother to?" I spit out and he shakes his head.

"I was scared and stupid and selfish and couldn't figure out what the hell I wanted" he says, seemingly becoming more articulate over the years, but just barely.

"Is that all you have to say to me?" I ask, his explanation subpar at best. "Y/n I was eighteen and scared of losing you. You were the most important person in my life, and in some ways you still are" he admits but I shake my head and step away from him making him take a step towards me.

"You do not get to go around acting like the victim saying things like that just to mess with my head" I seethe, appalled that he thinks he has the right to say that to me. "Y/n I didn't mean to-"

"You know what?" I say, cutting him off, "I always thought that what you did, or didn't even bother to do showed that you didn't care about my feelings, but I never thought of you as being cruel. Maybe that whole time you were just toying with my feeling just because you could. You never expected me to have the guts to finally tell you how I felt huh?"

"Y/n please that's not what happened" he says, chasing after me when I start to walk away from him. "Then what did happen huh?" I spit out, waiting for whatever sorry excuse to come out of his mouth.

"I never meant to hurt you..." he says, reaching out for my hand but I move out of the way.

I give him one last once over, looking at how heartbroken and pathetic he looks but I have no sympathy for him and from the way the last bit of hope drains from his eyes he finally realizes that there's no saving this.

He tries once more to say something but we're interrupted by the text we both knew I was begging to come in.

"Y/n..." he says and tries to see if I'll give him one last chance but I turn my back and walk towards the door, my hand resting on the handle for longer than necessary, contemplating if this was the right choice but for the sake of my future I know that it was.

"Goodbye Jungkook" I utter under my breath and pull the door open to walk out. When I turn back to close the door behind me I do myself a horrible disservice by looking through the glass and seeing an expression on his face that I'll never forget.

Loss

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[artsekey]

I'd been seeing videos on Tiktok and Youtube about how younger Gen Z & Gen Alpha were demonstrating low computer literacy & below benchmark reading & writing skills, but-- like with many things on the internet-- I assumed most of what I read and watched was exaggerated. Hell, even if things were as bad as people were saying, it would be at least ~5 years before I started seeing the problem in higher education.

I was very wrong.

Of the many applications I've read this application season, only %6 percent demonstrated would I would consider a college-level mastery of language & grammar. The students writing these applications have been enrolled in university for at least two years, and have taken all fundamental courses. This means they've had classes dedicated to reading, writing, and literature analysis, and yet!

There are sentences I have to read over and over again to discern intent. Circular arguments that offer no actual substance. Errors in spelling and capitalization that spellcheck should've flagged.

At a glance, it's easy to trace this issue back to two things:

The state of education in the United States is abhorrent. Instructors are not paid enough, so schools-- particularly public schools-- take whatever instructors they can find.

COVID. The two year long gap in education, especially in high school, left many students struggling to keep up.

But I think there's a third culprit-- something I mentioned earlier in this post. A lack of computer literacy.

This subject has been covered extensively by multiple news outlets like the Washington Post and Raconteur, but as someone seeing it firsthand I wanted to add my voice to the rising chorus of concerned educators begging you to pay attention.

As the interface we use to engage with technology becomes more user friendly, the knowledge we need to access our files, photos, programs, & data becomes less and less important. Why do I need to know about directories if I can search my files in Windows (are you searching in Windows? Are you sure? Do you know what that bar you're typing into is part of? Where it's looking)? Maybe you don't have any files on your computer at all-- maybe they're on the cloud through OneDrive, or backed up through Google. Some of you reading this may know exactly where and how your files are stored. Many of you probably don't, and that's okay. For most people, being able to access a file in as short a time as possible is what they prioritize.

The problem is, when you as a consumer are only using a tool, you are intrinsically limited by the functions that tool is advertised to have. Worse yet, when the tool fails or is insufficient for what you need, you have no way of working outside of that tool. You'll need to consult an expert, which is usually expensive.

When you as a consumer understand a tool, your options are limitless. You can break it apart and put it back together in just the way you like, or you can identify what parts of the tool you need and search for more accessible or affordable options that focus more on your specific use-case.

The problem-- and to be clear, I do not blame Gen Z & Gen Alpha for what I'm about to outline-- is that this user-friendly interface has fostered a culture that no longer troubleshoots. If something on the computer doesn't work well, it's the computer's fault. It's UI should be more intuitive, and it it's not operating as expected, it's broken. What I'm seeing more and more of is that if something's broken, students stop there. They believe there's nothing they can do. They don't actively seek out solutions, they don't take to Google, they don't hop on Reddit to ask around; they just... stop. The gap in knowledge between where they stand and where they need to be to begin troubleshooting seems to wide and inaccessible (because the fundamental structure of files/directories is unknown to many) that they don't begin.

This isn't demonstrative of a lack of critical thinking, but without the drive to troubleshoot the number of opportunities to develop those critical thinking skills are greatly diminished. How do you communicate an issue to someone online? How do look for specific information? How do you determine whether that information is specifically helpful to you? If it isn't, what part of it is? This process fosters so many skills that I believe are at least partially linked to the ability to read and write effectively, and for so many of my students it feels like a complete non-starter.

We need basic computer classes back in schools. We need typing classes, we need digital media classes, we need classes that talk about computers outside of learning to code. Students need every opportunity to develop critical thinking skills and the ability to self-reflect & self correct, and in an age of misinformation & portable technology, it's more important now than ever.

[felibrary]

cellphone love story — osamu dazai

*+ﾟsynopsis: recently, someone's been spam calling you to the point that you’re fed and pick up the phone, only to be greeted with someone by the name dazai who has been continuously trying to reach his dead friend. the calls however don't end here, rather, your (call) history with dazai starts to extend - slowly but surely forming a bond over time; the phone.

pairing: dazai x reader (gn) |wordcount: 2.5k (this was my personal hell)  | content & warnings: fluff, mentions of odasaku and very very very small mention of chuuya, more than friends less than lovers at the end (can also be interpreted as lovers, but that's just what i had in mind yall), brief mentions of drinking, light angst if you squint, not proofread its 5 am yall…. ; oneshot

a/n: sorry that i havent posted anything in the past few days (eight days to be exact i think..) i hope this will somehow make it up :,)

you can't keep count anymore.

this is the third - no, maybe fourth time today the unknown number has called you. at some point they have to realize that they’ve gotten the wrong number, right? 

it all started about one and a half weeks ago when you changed your phone number and received a new one. ever since that day someone has been continuously trying to call you. unfamiliar digits lit up on your screen as you were out with your friend, you ignored them, after all who were you to accept a call from an unknown number?

but, over the course of the evening the calls didn't stop, eerie and annoying ringtone constantly piercing through your ears until the calls took a halt at midnight. relief washing over you.

to your mishap the calls didn't stop there. sometimes they’d wake you up from a peaceful slumber, groggily pinching and rubbing your eyes before swiping the call away. other times your phone would ring at a work meeting where you had to awkwardly excuse yourself and turn off your phone.

admittedly, you're at fault for not blocking the number. all of your friends suggested that you should, reasoning it with the fact that the caller probably has some dirty schemes and motives and that you should just try and not get in touch with weird people like them. 

which brings you to your current predicament, sitting on the couch with your favorite show playing in the background as you text a friend, until a certain but familiar series of digits show up on your phone screen. do they never know when to stop?

your fingers hover over the decline button and then over to the accept button, debating and contemplating if you should decline the call but you don’t. the pads of your fingers press down on the accept button and you wait. 

you’re greeted with silence, what the hell? your patience runs thin, streaming like arid sand grains through an hourglass until they meet the bottom and gather there together with the others. it's been like thirty seconds into the call now, at this point they should've probably said something, at least a quiet hello. an exasperated sigh leaves your mouth and you begin “seriously? you’ve been calling me for the past week now and suddenly i pick up your calls you don’t say shit?” you complain.

“goodbye odasaku.” a sigh leaves the strangers mouth, a man you notice. “i suppose this is my sign to stop grieving and mourning over you.” his voice slightly quivers and the male chuckles sorrowfully. you can’t distinguish if it’s melancholy or relief that lace the bitter words. 

you’re left with confusion, so many unanswered questions lie at the tip of your tongue but you don’t dare to utter a word. “apologies.” he speaks up once again, this time with a steadier voice. “you’re probably confused, my name is osamu dazai.” he politely introduces himself. even though you’re unable to see him and can’t see him nor his expression, your intuition tells you that he’s slightly grinning, that a ghost of a smile graces his lips, although a rather sad one. 

“this phone number belonged to an old friend of mine.” dazai respires. a shaky “odasaku?” you whisper and let out a breath you yourself didn’t know you held in. “yeah, sakunosuke oda.” he hummed smilingly. “he’s gone.” dead, dazai wants to add but he refrains. 

“his voicemail always played when i dialed his number and called.” he whispered. “it was pleasant to hear his voice, knowing that there are still fragments of odasaku out there. he understood me like no other, i miss him.” dazai meekly confessed in a hushed tone. “but those days are over, i suppose it’s for the better.” the male on the other line sighed.

an umpteen amount of words prickle on your tongue, they itch to be released and said, you wanted to say something - anything. but before you’re able to properly gather your words and form a sentence, dazai cuts you off.

“please excuse my intrusions in the past week. have a good rest.” a shrilling sound echoing through your living room symbolizes the end of the call and you’re left dumbfounded.

-

strident noises awake you from your sleep. you toss and turn in your sheets as you mindlessly try to find your phone, rolling over to lay on your side as you find it and tightly clutching it, gripping your phone as you’re greeted with a bright screen and a row of digits. dazais number, you realize.

no, you didn't save his number nor did you memorize in which order the digits were aligned but his phone number's unfamiliar digits have become quite familiar now. you check the time: 0.52 a.m. what was dazai doing at such time and why was he calling you out of all people? especially after he hung up on you a month ago.

“hello?” you groggily yawn. “ah.” a female voice on the other line yelps, she sounds relieved. “are you odasaku by any chance? could you pick up mr. dazai please?” the woman asks in a demure manner. “what’s the situation?” you rub your eyes, trying to stay awake. “well, mr. dazai is intoxicated - he’s drunk and is currently slumped over the counter.” she whispers into the phone. 

“if that doesn’t bother you of course, i can also call someone else!” she hurriedly says. you're slipping out of your sheets to get out of your bed and move towards your hallway, loosely throwing over a thin jacket and checking its pocket if your car keys are in there. “it’s fine, can you tell me the location?” you tiredly ask. “yes of course. it’s bar lupin.” she replies. you check your phone and step outside your door moving towards your car “got it, i’ll be there in 20 minutes or so.” with that you end the call, get inside your car and put your hands on the steering wheel.

-

carefully you take a step inside the narrow bar, taking off your hood and immediately spotting dazai whose head was currently laying on the surface of the front bar. he was poking at his glass of whiskey, the ball of ice being almost fully melted. “dazai.” you call out. he turns around, hazel eyes meeting yours. 

only then can you admire dazai for the first time. his dark brown is tousled and unkempt but it continues to gleam in the orange light. his arms are wrapped in bandages and there's a long beige, almost khaki, coat draped over his body. you can’t help but think that he’s kind of pretty.

“what are you doing here?” dazai asks in a fatigued tone. you show him your car keys and wag them in the air “here to pick you up.” you reply nonchalantly. “why?” his question is barely above a whisper. 

why are you helping him? he doesn’t understand - he wishes to understand. the first impression you’ve received from dazai was when he was calling you non stop and now your second impression is him slumped over bar lupins front bar. dazai can’t tell if you’re just naive or really trying to be helpful out of politeness or rather out of kindness. 

a certain kindness he’s only ever received from odasaku. helping someone like him out of kindness with no hidden intentions, offering a helping hand, smiling with utmost fondness. 

“as if im leaving a somewhat nice drunkard alone. i’m not inhumane.” even though your answers are full of nonchalance, dazai can make out a certain sincerity that lies in your words. 

his eyes can only follow as you tilt your head towards the door. “let's get you back home.” you gently smile. 

-

dazai wakes up to the sound of  birds chirping and sizzling oil. he’s warm, a soft blanket covering his body only then dazai realizes that this isn’t his bed, that he’s not lying in his futon. he looks around before his gaze lands on the bedside table which had a glass of water atop it, marked with a little sticky note that said “drink this, you’ll feel much better and come find me in the kitchen :)” 

he can’t recall everything that happened yesterday, it all went past him like a blur the only thing he remembered was that you came to pick him up. dazai grabbed the glass and gulped it down in one go, some of its content seeping down his chin and wiping it away with his sleeve before sliding out of the bed with the glass in his hand to return it to you.

finding your kitchen wasn’t hard, it was located right next to the dining room where a variety of dishes were placed on the dining table. dazai enters the kitchen, without you noticing and sees you whisking up two eggs with a pair of chopsticks before speaking up “here.” dazai coughs and places the glass on the counter near the sink to express his gratitude. 

“oh, it’s no problem.” you shoot him a small smile. your hand reaches over to the salt and pepper  to season the eggs with before carefully putting the egg mixture into the hot greased pan. admittedly dazai feels a bit out of place - useless (when was he ever not) so he offers to wash your dishes which you happily agreed to. 

besides the sound of sizzling fat and water running down the faucet, it's quiet in your kitchen. “how’d she know whom to call?”  you’re the first to speak up, eyes still concentrated on frying the eggs as you hum a small melody.

“the bartendress?” dazai asks in response. 

“yeah.” 

“well, odasaku’s number, which is your number now, is one of my emergency contacts, i suppose she just called you first.” dazai shrugs his shoulders, his hands still focused on rubbing away the dirty spots on your plates. 

“i see.” 

“if the old man, my favourite bartender by the way." dazai winks. "if he would’ve been here he would’ve called slug.” dazai lets out a small laugh, probably the most sincere laugh he let out in the past few weeks.

“slug” you ask, soft voice laced with confusion.

“an old friend of mine.” dazai smiles sadly. “odasaku and him are both my emergency contacts.” he chuckles. 

dazai doesn’t talk about the topic much further and neither do you, assuming it’s a sensitive topic for him. “i’m done, how about you?” you look over to dazai who’s currently washing his hands off with lavender soap. “mhm, me too.” he hums in agreement at which you can smile at.

dazais eyes trail after you as you leave the kitchen and move to the dining room, setting down all the plates and pouring two glasses of water. “sit down and eat up.” your eyes sway from his eyes over to the chairs. only then does dazai notice that his beige coat is neatly folded on one of your dining chairs. it makes his heart jump lightly. 

he sits down and takes a sip out of his glass, waiting until you start to eat first before he gets to. he smiles contently as you happily chew on your food. “does it taste good?” he cringes at himself when he realizes just how awkward that question is, he feels like a teenager again that was always wary of what people thought of him. 

“it tastes amazing! wanna try?” you slide the plate over to dazai, offering him to take a piece. “sure.” he agrees before taking a small bite. you weren’t lying when you said that it tasted amazing. “you're right, it tastes so good.” dazai says ecstatically. “told you so! my cooking is not to be underestimated.” you laugh and dazai can’t help but laugh too which makes him cough uncontrollably, putting a hand over his mouth so he doesn’t spit out anything on your table cloth but continuing to laugh.

“oh god dazai, are you okay?” you rush over to his aid and put your hand over his back to slide over it, hoping that it’ll somehow soothe his coughing. dazai manages to muffle out a “i’m fine, really.” between his coughs and laughs which you can only sigh at but can’t help the smile that finds its way onto your face and plasters itself on your lips.

-

calls with dazai have become more frequent now, although he sometimes still remains a mystery to you, it feels like he’s grown quite comfortable around you. 

he told you more about himself (vice versa), talks about his work at the armed detective agency and sends you recipes the both of you could recreate. not only calls with him became more frequent but also visits. 

at least four out of seven times a week dazai rushes to your place after work (you should probably call it your shared home now due to dazai leaving his stuff at your place like scattered objects on the floor).

for example, today: dazai walks into your kitchen like he owns the place. he sets down his belongings onto your couch before stepping towards the kitchen where he already finds you chopping the vegetables for the curry. 

he notices that you’re on the verge of tearing up as you continuously chop the onions into small bits and grabs a tissue before sneaking up behind you and scaring you. “boo.” his mouth forms a little “o” and you slightly jump before setting the knife down and putting your hand over your heart. “you scared me!” you complain even though dazai can see the playful glint in your eyes.

“sorry, sorry.” he laughs before wiping away the small droplets of tears that managed to escape your eyes. 

his calloused hands brush over your soft skin, it’s intimate - romantic even. you softly sigh against the tissue, the object that separates the two of you. the action makes your face lightly heat up and you’re sure that dazai noticed it too from the way he’s smirking. 

“aw, was i able to fluster you?” he coos at you smilingly, which in response you can only huff at, eyeing him with a look that says “you already know the answer.” before turning around to continue where you left off.

in the meantime dazai pulls out another cutting board and starts to chop the carrots. it’s quiet, it’s always quiet when the two of you cook together, but neither you nor dazai mind. the smell of aromatics that nip and continue to linger in the air and the sound of your jazz playlist which sometimes gets outplayed by the sounds of cutting or frying food, are more than enough. it’s just like the first time the two of you shared this space together, a certain nostalgia suddenly washing over him.

“thank you” he whispers, barely loud enough to not get overplayed by the music playing in the background. 

“for what?” you ask, longing for an answer.

for the times you’ve picked me up at bar lupin, for the times you’ve cooked me warm meals, for the times when you took care of me. 

“for everything.”

this is dedicated to my odasaku person @azullumi (don't die pls i need u and ur fics HHDDISISISIS). you've always told me that you liked odasaku a lot and that some day you also want to open up an orphanage which i find really endearing. what i mean by "you're my odasaku person" is not "wow we're literally so odasaku and dazai coded" but no rather it's because you also play such a major role in my life (not just cause of the age gap between oda and dazai and u and me..). you're always there when i need you, you're always there when i needed you and i hope that you'll always be there when i need you. but the same thing goes vice versa; goes for me. azul you're someone whom i've randomly met and if i never made that one comment or sent that one ask or if you never sent that one dm i would've never written this. you're someone who reassures me and soothes my worries with simple words, when i'm feeling down you're the person i turn to because you're the only person who really understands and somehow relates and thus i'm always able to trust and follow your judgement and advice. i never feel judged or belittled by you or treated as someone whose only an immature kid, no you treat me as a normal person, like a friend. which makes me feel seen - acknowledged even. to be loved is to be seen. i could go hours when it comes about talking to you and what impact you have on my life, but i suppose that's for another end note dsjsdsuusus. you're so dear to me. i love you a lot azul <3

© VYNICITY 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.

[queers-gambit]

Alpine

prompt: in an effort to help your boyfriend with his trauma, you rescue a furry feline together - a white cat named, Alpine - who rescues you both in return.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!Widow!reader

fandom masterlist: Marvel

word count: 6.9k+

note: been seeing a lot of Alpine recently and got inspired.

second note: no, it's not comic / canon compliant so just have fun. author did some research but there's not a LOT written / known about Alpine, so, again, just have fun!

warnings: post Endgame, pre tfaws; cursing, Lord's name in vain, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Nick Fury calling reader a bitch playfully, Bucky's trauma responses, small spoilers, Dr. Raynor / therapy.

other works with Widow!reader and Bucky NOT necessary to read

read here: Damage Done

"Are you angry with me?"

"No."

"Disappointed? Annoyed? Frustrated?"

"No, doll."

"Then why won't you talk to me!?"

"Nothing to say."

You wiped a hand down your face, lifting it only to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your head shook to shake away your thoughts, sniffling emotion, sighing when you dropped your hand to slap against your thigh. "I'm really trying here, Bucky, I swear to you, I am. But I can't help if you don't talk to me," you softened your voice, beginning to understand this was a losing battle.

"I never said I needed help."

"You never have to ask me for help, Bucky, I just give it because I want to! Because I love you! That's part of being in a relationship!"

"Maybe I don't want it!" Your boyfriend snapped, rounding on you with unfiltered emotion in his eyes. The horrors swam in his baby blues, vivid memories he was unable to escape haunting him, terrorizing him; creating a shell of a man who could no longer hide his avid pain. "Did you ever think about that? Ever consider that I don't want your help because I don't need it?"

"Everyone needs help sometimes, Buck."

"No, not everyone - I'm not one of your pet projects, you don't get to treat me like a broken thing that needs fixed! I certainly don't need your pity - not yours."

"I don't pity you! Fuck's sake, Bucky, I love you and want to see you heal. I know you better than anyone - "

"You don't," he sneered, cutting you off. "You don't know me, not really, not as well as Steve - "

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Steve isn't here! He's not coming back!" You snapped, instantly regretting it when Bucky's eyes coated with glassy emotion he fought vehemently to keep down. "I-I'm sorry, that was - that was really mean of me and totally out of line," you apologized, both sighing deeply. "All right, look, let's just talk this out, please."

"There's nothing to say."

Your hip cocked, arms crossing, "She called me, you know."

"Who?"

"Dr. Raynor."

"Fuck's sake," he growled. "Why would she do that?"

"Maybe because today's session was, apparently, supposed to be a couples session. She thought I was refusing, called to say I was impeding on your progress and if I want to help you, I'd have to show up to your appointments. Which is really funny because you never told me about today, so I had no idea what the hell she was talking about - but that didn't stop her from tearing me a new asshole!"

He frowned, avoiding your eyes. "I didn't need a couples session. Not today, I just - I wanted today to focus on other shit."

"And I can respect that, but you're not doing yourself any favors by hiding shit from me. To get the best results from therapy, you have to actually do the work, and not just do what Dr. Raynor says, but actually listen to her advice - "

"I don't need you on my back about this, Raynor does that enough for you both," Bucky growled. "I do the fucking work - I'm the one in that room, I'm the one applying silly little rules to my life - "

"Obviously not if you didn't even tell me Raynor requested my attendance! You should've told me, and then you should've said you weren't ready! I would've respected that, but I can't do a Goddamn thing if you don't talk to me!"

His jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth, skin twitching and distinct muscles tightening. "Like I said, there's nothing to talk about," he practically spat, shaking his head at you before grabbing his sneakers from the closet.

You didn't mean to sound harsh, but demanded, "Where are you going? We're in the middle of a conversation."

"No, we're not, 'cause I'm ending it," he scoffed, sitting on the corner of your shared mattress, exchanged his shoes. "And I'm going for a run, need to clear my head."

You shook your head before leaving the bedroom, "Absolutely unbelievable."

Bucky left your shared apartment a few minutes later, somewhere you've only lived five months - the time it's been since Tony Stark, Iron Man, snapped the other half of living beings back into existence. He lost his life in return, the ultimate sacrifice, but he managed to reverse the damage Thanos created five years prior. Five months of living in this apartment without a lick of warmth, personal touch, or real sentiment; it being dreary, dark, and mostly empty. Hell, Bucky didn't even feel comfortable in bed, so he camped in the barren living room, giving visual to the way your relationship was beginning to fray, unravel, crack.

He didn't want anything personal in your apartment - thinking it was ridiculous to settle down after all you two have endured, witnessed, and fought for. You agreed to keep things at the bare minimum, only stocking what was necessary, knowing this was part of his healing process and didn't want to drum-up further anxiety. It made everything impersonal, boring, bland, and down right depressing - but it was a small accommodation you could provide your lover.

You hated the distance. Hated how alone Bucky felt after Steve. Hated how reclusive he became, the anger he projected. Hated how no matter what you did, you weren't enough - not this time. For years, you've loved him despite his flaws, his brainwashing, his trauma responses, but whatever he was enduring now was something you weren't equipped to handle. Didn't mean you weren't willing to try, but Bucky was the one pushing you away; thinking his demons were his sole responsibility, never letting you be the pillar that helped support him. God, you hated the distance.

You left the apartment, too. Nick Fury had employed you for creative, solo, high profile missions; wanting to utilize your Widow training, especially now that Natasha Romanoff was deceased. And you wanna know what? Bucky hadn't even asked about her, never tried to offer comfort, only quietly attending the funeral service you hosted with the remaining Avengers to give her a proper sendoff - despite there being no body. Bucky knew you and Nat were as thick as thieves, family without blood, two lost souls who leaned on each other in trying times; bonded by trauma, encouraged by resounding bravery, disciplined by strength. The fact that your boyfriend never even checked in with you after Nat's passing obviously hurt your feelings but you remained silent.

Again, to avoid generating more anxiety for Bucky.

You met the one-eyed man at a local, bustling coffee shop, finding the sight of the hardened, burly man eating a scone amusing. "Got you one of these," he nudged a dessert plate to your side of the table when you sat down with your desired coffee, "know you like 'em."

"Blueberries are my favorite," you half-smirked, regarding the moist muffin and sighing sadly. "All right, sir, what's on the docket?"

He stared at you for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before leaning back in his chair. "The fuck's going on with you?" He asked.

"What do you mean?"

"You look different today."

"Mh," you nodded, joking, "got a hair cut."

"No, it's your aura. Something bothering you, kid?"

"You do realize I'm a fully grown adult, right?"

Nick shrugged, "I don't see age."

"You don't - nobody sees age, Nick, Jesus."

He took a sip of his green tea. "There's still something bothering you. Not sure if you should go on this mission if you're wound tight."

"I'm just dealing with shit at home."

"Oh, right, the cyborg. How is the hundred year old psycho?"

"You you want me to stab out your other eye? 'Cause I fucking will," you threatened with a fork clenched in your grasp, perking your brows up your forehead. "Say that shit again, see what the fuck I do, Nick, I absolutely dare you."

He chuckled, hands held in defense, "Sorry, sorry, that was uncalled for. What's wrong with Sergeant Barnes?"

You shrugged, "It's complicated."

"Bitch, aliens opening a wormhole in space and time to invade Earth is complicated - relationships aren't. Try me."

After an amused chuckle, you told him, "He's struggling right now. You know? After everything, it's been a lot for him and now that things are relatively back to normal, he's having a hard time trying to assimilate himself back into the populace. You know, learning to live in this day and age - a man out of time, outside his comfort zone, forced to adjust himself after living as a weapon of mass destruction for so long. Add in the fact that his best friend passed, marking another forceful adjustment he's unprepared for..."

"Hm," Nick nodded, "heard he's got a full pardon."

"He does."

"Which has a contingency he's gotta go to therapy, right? Part of rejoining society?"

You nodded, "Right, again."

"So he's in therapy and still struggling?"

"It's not like there's an on-off switch, Nick, therapy takes time and dedication. I just don't think he feels at peace, calm, in control - like he deserves any of this; the pardon especially. Think the stress, fear, and confusion is eating at him."

"Well, he's got you."

"I'm not his mother."

"No, you're his girlfriend, and it's a girlfriend's responsibility to support him, ain't it? Help him through this?"

"I can only do so much, Nick," you scoffed, "I'm just one person and he's a stubborn jackass - he just pushes me away. I'm sure I don't help the situation by accepting your contracts."

Fury considered your words for a long moment, then asked, "You said he's lonely?"

"Wouldn't you? Given his situation? He won't say, but I know losing Steve caused a part of him die."

Nick shrugged, "So get him a dog."

You never wouldn't guessed those words could ever pass Nick Fury's lips, head cocking, eyes narrowing, arms crossed over your chest. "I'm sorry, do what now?"

"It's obvious, ain't it? Dude needs company when you're gone, a sense of purpose, to feel like there was something - or someone - depending on him. Might help whatever limbo he's lingering in."

"A dog?"

"A dog. He can take it for walks or whatever."

You considered his recommendation, asking again, "A dog?"

"Do we need to get your hearing checked again? You lose the last functionality of your ears? Yes, a dog."

"I don't know..."

"It's just a suggestion, might promote his peace, help him process grief and guilt. Telling you, a dog would do him good. Now," he took another sip of tea, "onto business."

"You give me whiplash," you chuckled. "What's this job?"

"Simple and easy," he pulled up a tablet from the chair beside him, tapping it three times and handing it to you.

"None of your jobs are simple or easy, Nicky-Nick."

"I told you, don't call me that. Look, I just need you in London to investigate a string of potential terrorist activity. Just some recon, you won't be gone more than a few days - if you behave and stay on task."

You scanned the document, "When do I ever do that?" He chuckled briefly, you wondering, "Flagsmashers? Jesus, what a name. C'mon, you can't be serious. These guys are just radicals - you know, trying to vouch for those displaced after the Blip. It's actually kinda endearing, I mean, they're trying to give a microphone to those without a voice."

"They're escalating - too quickly," Fury informed. "They haven't raised any international flags yet, but something ain't right about them. I just need you as eyes and ears, maybe report if you think they're worth the worry."

Little did you know, in only about a month, you would join forces with Bucky and Sam Wilson - The Falcon - to dismantle the organization.

"When do I leave?"

"Tuesday would be ideal. But I can push it to Friday if you wanna go get that dog."

Your laughter was endearing, handing the tablet back over.

Bucky liked holding hands, though, he often wouldn't ever voice it. It made him feel tethered, anchored to reality; instilling a sense of pride to have such a gorgeous lady - such as yourself - at his side. However, the part he liked most, was being reminded he wasn't alone; even when on crowded, overpopulated streets, he didn't have to be afraid because with his hand in yours, he looked just like everyone else. You protected him even without intending to or without even knowing what you were doing.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," he sighed, people on the street sidestepping and avoiding running into you two. "I was upset, stressed out, you know how I get after seeing Raynor."

"It's okay, baby," you assured, ever the patient, loyal, and supportive girlfriend he needed. "I'm not holding it against you, but just promise me, when you're ready, you'll tell me."

He nodded, "I will - I mean, I promise." You hummed and pet his bicep with your other hand, giving his arm a hug. "Now are you gonna tell me where we're going?"

"I told you, it's a surprise."

He was ready to reply when a small commotion echoed from the alley you were passing, Bucky coming to a jarring halt that yanked on your arm, swinging you around. You were ready to ask what was happening when you clocked one of Bucky's "friends", an older man named Yori Nakajima, arguing with one of his neighbors.

"Hey, hey, Yori," Bucky intervened, you watching from the mouth of the alley, "woah, hey, what's going on?"

You couldn't hear whatever Yori was saying, but Bucky turned to the other man and growled something at him that made the neighbor scurry off. He glared at you, lip curled in a sneer, disappearing amongst patrons of the crowded sidewalk. You frowned and approached Yori and Bucky, your boyfriend still trying to calm his friend - well, 'friend' was a very generous term. See, Yori was the father of a young man that died by the hand of the Winter Soldier, being a name on Bucky's list he needed to make amends with.

However, when you took your place beside Bucky, Yori was waving you both off and shuffling down the alley, towards one of his apartment building's doors. "What was that all about?" You asked softly, taking note of the disgruntled expression your boyfriend usually wore these days.

"Just," he sighed, shaking his head, "Yori's upset with some of his neighbors - thinks they're encroaching on being disrespectful."

"When doesn't he?" Bucky sighed, you wondering softly, "You think you're ever gonna feel ready to tell him?"

"I'm working on it," he sighed sadly. "All right, c'mon - "

You both paused with furrowed brows when there came a series of shrill meows from under a couple of soggy, cardboard boxes beside a dumpster. "Did you hear that?" You asked.

"Uh-huh."

Another elongated meow was heard, Bucky curiously approach the discarded trash coated in sewage sludge. He slowly squatted, you approaching his shoulder when another meow cried out. Now, normally, you'd never investigate animal noises out of fear they were feral and carrying disease, but something just felt sad about what you heard - apparently, to Bucky, too. Gingerly, he reached out and lifted a piece of dripping cardboard, seeing a bundle moving under the next piece. He moved that one, too.

"Oh, my God!" You cooed when a tiny kitten was revealed. White fur was stained with dirt, sludge, and other nasty juices; nose pink, eyes a piercing, clear blue with brownish tear stains rimming them. The kitten mewed in greeting, pacing a tight circle before trying to back up in the brick wall; hunching its back and hissing slightly when you lowered yourself into a squat beside Bucky. "Baby, it's all alone, should we help?" You pouted.

"I don't think it wants our help, doll," he sighed. "It looks scared of us. Bet the mother's around somewhere, be a shame to move it if she's coming back."

"It looks too skinny, maybe it's alone?"

"Or maybe it's not," Buck countered. "C'mon, sugar, we can't take it."

After a bit of back and forth, you finally relented and had to walk away. You frowned for at least two blocks, but upon your halt at a crosswalk, you were greeted by another shrieking meow. Whipping around, you and Buck both looked down to discover the wee little kitten had followed you and was practically yelling for your attention. You grinned.

"Well, now we really have to help it," you told Bucky.

"How?"

"We take it to a shelter," you answered, shrugging, "good thing I know where one is."

"What's it doing?" Bucky asked nervously, the kitten dancing around your legs; brushing up against you both, meowing the whole time.

"I think she wants you to pick her up," you smirked.

He sighed and stooped to scoop the little creature in hand, regarding it carefully; weighing it, checking paws and other vulnerable spots. Bucky muttered, "All right, yeah, fine, let's take him to a shelter. Little beast needs some food it feels like, definitely a flea bath and some fresh water."

"You big softie."

"Lead the way to the shelter, princess, c'mon," he ignored your jab, tucking the kitten into his chest protectively. "He feels fragile," Bucky worried, "maybe you should carry him, I might crush him."

"You've got the little babe, Buck," you assured, "you're not gonna hurt him - I mean, if it's even a him."

"By the attitude, could be a girl," he joked, making your heart lighten. He'd been in such a funk that you missed his teasing, soft words; the little jokes he cracked, his smile - God, you missed seeing his smile. During your time on the run after DC, while seeking refuge in Bucharest for a couple years, you grew accustomed to seeing his radiant smile; remembering how easily he offered it when just the two of you. For a moment, you considered how your relationship was no longer just you and Bucky - but his trauma, too.

Arriving at the shelter, it was like an assault on the senses. Dogs were heard barking from the kennels, the pungent smell of urine and wood chips smacking you in the face, and a sort of humidity lingering in the air - a sharp contrast to the crisp outside.

"Hi," you greeted the receptionist, offering a kind smile.

"Hi, there. How can I help you two?" The man with long hair asked.

"Well, uh, two things," you explained, "one: we'd like to tour your kennels, we're interested in adopting a dog - "

"We are?" Bucky gaped.

" - and two: we found this little fella in an alley," you pointed to the kitten curled protectively against Bucky's warmth. "We wanted to make sure he was okay, maybe leave him here for adoption?"

"Oh," Man Bun blinked, regarding both Bucky and the kitten, "wow, uh, yeah, that's really nice of you guys, rescuing the little guy. You know, since everyone came back few months ago, there's be an influx of strays. A lot of people gave up their animals when their loved ones came back."

"Well, that's super fucked up," your eyes rolled.

"Tell me about it," he sighed. "Look, I'd love to help you guys out, so, tell you what. I can let you back in the kennels - no problem! Help match you to your new companion, but, uh... I don't think I can help you with the cat. You see, we, uh, we've had to start euthanizing the overflow animals or the ones who don't get adopted in a timeframe. We're at our max capacity, so... If you wanna leave him here, uh, I can't promise he'll have a place."

"You'd put him down?" Bucky growled.

"It's not what we want to do," Man Bun swiftly explained, "but it's just necessary - we don't have the room or resources to take him."

"Do you know of any no-kill shelters? Maybe one that has room?" You asked, feeling Bucky's disgust rolling off him in waves.

"Not in the area," Man Bun frowned. "Honestly? I think the closest no-kill shelter's in Maryland. Maybe Virginia?"

"Jesus," you frowned, looking at Bucky.

"Look, my best advice?" Man Bun offered, "Take the little tike home, clean him up, and call around to other shelters to see if they have space. But if you intend to adopt a dog, maybe bringing back a kitten isn't the best timing. If you give him up to us, he'll probably be sent directly to overflow..."

"We'll take him home," Bucky instantly decided, shocking you.

"We will?" You asked softly, lips curling in a small smile.

"Why not?" He sighed.

"I would've thought you'd be more of a dog person..."

"I'm not an animal person, but we're not leaving this little guy here just for him to be euthanized. We can handle him for a few days, you know, until we find a shelter with room."

"I think that's a great idea," you grinned.

"But was this your plan? For us to adopt a dog?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Why?"

You shrugged, "Just thought a dog would be nice company when I'm outta town for work. You know, could go on walks or runs together, you'd have someone looking out for you, maybe a dog would help with your stress levels?"

He eyed you for a moment, sighing, "I appreciate that, doll. Maybe another time, though? At least let us find somewhere or someone to take this guy."

The kitten gave a prolonged squeak - seemingly agreeing. "All right, noisy, we hear you," you chuckled, giving the kitten's head a scratch. You asked Man Bun, "Do you guys have the means to check him over, you know, before we go home? Make sure he's not injured or something?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "let me go get one of the technicians."

After the tech's exam, you were given the paperwork from that day's visit, the name, number, and address of a recommended vet, and before you knew it, found yourselves at the local pet store. You would've been ashamed by the absurd amount of money you spent, but Bucky rationalized the need because you weren't sure how long your new companion would stay with you. So, you ransacked the store, buying a sizable litter box, 50 pounds of actual litter, a bag of kibble, case of wet food, several different treats, a balm for the baby's feet, too many toys and stimulation activities, a carrying case in the event of transporting the kitten, and a tiny collar - if you decided to keep the little noise machine.

The sight of Bucky with the little fuzz ball warmed your heart. He still seemed hesitant and stiff, as if afraid to hurt the kitten, but he wasn't so tense anymore. However, he handed the pet over for you to hold while he carried the supplies back home; biceps bulging to support the weight. In that moment, walking familiar streets with his arms full of cat supplies, he questioned how he got here - to feel all domestic and out-of-place. He was Bucky Barnes - a Sargent in the Army, prolific hitman, something of an Avenger now. He didn't adopt cats and buy toys!

However, watching you talk to the kitten softly, he smiled - something small at first that grew like a germinating seed to split his face. You seemed so... Bright, excited, rejuvenated, even. He knew the past five months since the Blip had been rough on you, what with losing Natasha, fighting Thanos and his army of aliens, then ricocheting into 'normal life' only to deal with his emotional baggage. Watching you walk down the street with a fuzzy white ball of energy, pointing out different things, cooing and narrating the city to the kitten as if he could understand was refreshing after seemingly seeing nothing but a frown on your lips recently.

To Bucky, as long as you were happy, he was happy - and it seemed you were very content with your new little buddy. So, he was happy with your new little buddy and figured a dose of domestic life wasn't the end of the world. In fact, he actually felt... Intrigued by the newest addition to your little family.

When you returned home, it was to an empty apartment. Bucky dropped the supplies in the living room, hands to his hips, looking around, "Well, uh... At least there's room to run around, right?"

You nodded, "And no risk of ruined furniture."

"Yeah," he sighed, watching you set the kitten down. "All right, pip squeak. C'mon, lemme give you the tour - pay attention. So, in here," he moved around the wall, kitten following and listening intently, labeling, "this is the kitchen, this is where you'll get your meals - and no, you're not allowed on the counters." He pointed a warning finger, "Don't let me catch you up there or there's gonna be hell to pay. I don't wanna find your hair in my morning bagel."

"Buck, you don't eat breakfast."

"Fine, then I don't wanna hear my girl found hair in her bagel."

The kitten mewed loudly, trotting to keep up as Bucky walked around the barren apartment - giving a literal tour. You unpacked the supplies, setting up a raised food bowl beside a full water bowl. You left the treats in an empty cupboard, the litter box ready to use in the bathroom, and tossed some toys around the open, empty living room floor. You meandered, stashing other supplies, hearing the scampering thuds of excited little feet.

When your head popped out of the kitchen, you grinned at what you saw. Bucky was sat on the floor, flicking a feathered stick over the hardwood floors for the kitten to race around and try to catch. The longer you watched, the more defenseless Bucky seemed, and dare you say it, he looked calm - maybe even happy. His eyes were locked on the animal's antics as if he didn't want to miss a single movement he made; small smile making him look younger and brighter.

You made a mental note to thank Nick Fury for his suggestion. Sure, he actually said to get a dog, but this kitten seemed to have the same effect.

"Hey, baby?" You called, hanging up your phone after calling the recommended vet. "So, uh... Listen, you know how I have to go outta town on Friday?"

"Yeah?" He glanced up, letting the kitten wrestle his booted foot.

"So, I managed to get a vet appointment but it's for Friday. Is that okay? Or do you want me to reschedule for when I'm back so we can go together?"

"Oh, uh, no, that's all right, sugar, keep the Friday slot. I can take him, it's not a big deal."

"You sure? I hate having to saddle you with this responsibility."

"I'm sure," he nodded, "I can take him, it's okay."

For the rest of the week, you had a front row viewing of an incredible bond being formed. The kitten liked you, you two had many moments together, but it was obvious the little guy adored Bucky. He was stuck to your boyfriend like Velcro, following him everywhere, shrieking for attention when Bucky was preoccupied, liked being held when he cooked, even tried to get in the shower with Bucky. They played together, Bucky's laugh warming the entire apartment; positively obsessed with one another, the little guy even sleeping between you and Bucky.

It was as if you both forgot to look for the kitten a permanent home, the lack of furniture providing wide space for play and entertainment. Bucky even got one of those cat trees, couple individual scratching posts, and a laser pointer that drove your furry friend up the wall. There was some unspoken rule about naming animals - where if you named them, they were yours officially. So, one evening over dinner, you proposed a few names, Bucky giving his opinion; but then you began to consider "theme" names. Because your little buddy was white, you mused over names like Noelle or Snow, but finally settled on Alpine after narrowly beating out Aspen.

The day you flew to London, you warned both Bucky and kitten to behave themselves. Later that night, while you were sat in a tinted SUV for surveillance, your phone rang with Bucky's contact. "Hey, baby, how's it going?" You answered, refocusing through your advanced camera lens to snap necessary photos.

"Good, yeah. Uh, how's London?"

"Pretty dreary, it's been raining all day. Hey, how was the vet appointment?"

'Oh, yeah, no, it was, uh, yeah, it was good. Gave Alpine a buncha shots, microchipped her, started her on antibiotics - "

"Did you say, 'her'?"

"Yeah, that was the other thing - turns out, Alpine's a girl."

You chuckled, "Well, I'll be damned. How're you feelin', Buck?"

"I'm... Okay."

"I'm sorry I'm not there," you sighed. "Nightmares again?"

"Yeah."

"Sleeping in the living room?"

"You know it."

"TV on?"

"Reminds me I'm not where I dreamt I am."

"Well, I'll be home in a few days."

"What's this mission?"

"Just a little recon, I'm only to observe. Nicky told me to keep an eye on some suspicious activity."

"Don't tell me you're sitting in a white van?"

"No, sir, it's a Rolls Royce this time," you chuckled.

True to your word, you were home by Tuesday night. The transatlantic flight was long and tedious; a storm creating steady turbulence, making it absolutely impossible to get any shut eye. When you landed, you made a beeline to the Starbucks and got the largest coffee possible with an added 2 shots of espresso before exiting the bustling airport. Outside, waiting at the curb, Nick Fury himself stood before a sleek and shiny car that probably cost more than a 4-year education at an American university.

He smirked, "Welcome back, kid."

"Nice of you to pick me up, Nicky-Nick."

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me 'kid'."

"Get in the Goddamn car, I'm not having this argument again."

After storing your luggage, Nick drove you back home while listening to your mission report. You didn't think the Flagsmashers were extreme enough to warrant intervention, but all Nick heard was that now was the time to strike before there came the need, before a chance for escalation could occur. You left the tablet full of notes, observations, photos, and data with the one-eyed man, and before you fully departed the car, paused to lean in the open window.

"Hey, uh, I've been meaning to thank you."

"What for?" Nick asked, face hardened in a permanent look of disagreement. You never took it personally - Nick Fury having professional Resting Bitch Face (RBF).

"Your advice about getting Bucky a dog."

"No shit," he chuckled, "you actually got him a dog?"

"Uh, well, no..."

"What'd you get?" Nick asked in suspicion, watching your lips roll between your teeth to restrain your smile. "Ah, hell no! You didn't! A cat? A fucking cat?"

"I know you don't like them - "

"Bitch! One scratched out my eye!"

"But our cat didn't."

"Doesn't matter - fuck all them felines."

You laughed and slapped the metal door, "Well, thank you anyway for the idea of a companion animal. Bucky's a lot calmer it seems."

Nick Fury sighed, waving you off like a pesky insect. "I'll call you when I got another job. Have fun with the little demon."

"You talkin' about Bucky or Alpine?"

"The cat - wait, Alpine? The fuck kinda name is that?"

"You know, Alpine... Like the Alps?"

His head shook, "I know what fuckin' alpine is."

"Why don't you head off - looks like you're gonna give yourself a stroke. Didn't realize getting a kitten would stress you out this bad."

"Get out my Goddamn window and I can leave."

You grinned and dropped a wink, again, patting the car and stepping back onto the sidewalk. Nick peeled off, leaving you alone to shoulder your duffel bag and head inside your apartment building. When you got to your desired location, the door opened without the usual creak, Bucky obviously WD-40'ing the hinges. "Hello?" You called softly, hanging your keys on the little peg in the foyer, toeing out of your shoes, glancing around the empty apartment.

Ready to call out again, you actually almost choked on air when you inhaled but stopped abruptly. You pouted your bottom lip at the sight of Bucky sound asleep in his nest on the floor, TV's lighting flashing and creating shadows, giving clear sight of Alpine curled in a tight ball on Buck's chest. His flesh hand was raised to rest on his chest, keeping Alpine cuddled to his warmth.

Quickly, you pulled your phone from your back pocket, snapping an adorable picture of your boyfriend before silently tiptoeing away to dispose of your duffel and purse. You sent the photo to Bucky's phone, positive you were keeping the kitten. After a long, hot shower that washed the travel from your body, you changed into loungewear, pulled your hair back, then reentered the living room where you knelt at Bucky's side. In-sync, your presence made both Alpine and Bucky flinch awake - your boyfriend jerking away from your warmth as the kitten hopped off his chest.

You winced, "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you."

His head shook, "No, it's all right, doll, I wasn't sleeping."

"You were, don't deny it," you grinned, settling on the mound of blankets.

Bucky chuckled gently, "I tried to stay up for you. C'mere," his arm opened in invitation, smirking gently. You settled down and turned into his side, his arm now coiled around your form, constricting to pull you closer so his lips could plant on your forehead. "How was London? Your mission?"

"Easy peasy," you sighed, "nothing too strenuous or stressful. The most 'complicated' part of the whole thing was using a different car each day to avoid suspicion."

"Hmm... Who was the target?"

"Some radical group," you sighed, head resting on his pectoral. "How was it? Just you and Alpine?"

"It was pretty good, nothing to complain about. She's nice company."

As if understanding she was the topic of conversation, Alpine mewed several times in a row as she walked up the seam of your body pressed to Bucky's. She turned in two circles before settling down between you; your grin authentic as a manicured fingernail extended to scratch her head.

"Actually, sweetheart, I've been thinking..."

"Hmm? About what?" You mumbled, eyes drooping with each passing second.

"About how we should keep her - Alpine, we should keep Alpine."

"You're just figuring that out now?" You teased, sluggishly lifting your head to smirk at him. "I knew she was ours the moment you picked her up. It'll be nice having her around, don't you think? I know she's not a dog you can take on walks but with Alpine, you don't have to be alone."

He nodded, "I like that idea. She's a good cat."

"Check your phone in the morning."

"Why?"

"Mmmh, I sent you a picture, you'll see - but it's just confirmation that Alpines part of us now, part of our crew."

"Our family," Bucky agreed softly. He watched you resettle on his chest, spending the following couple hours in the glow of the TV, watching you and Alpine. Bucky's heart warmed to a degree he's never known, making the comparison of himself to Jim Carrey's, the Grinch - a movie you made him watch. Eventually, exhaustion outweighed his domestic thoughts; falling asleep with you safe in his arms and Alpine curled up between you.

"Well, this certainly is a surprise... I was beginning to think James made you up."

"Oh, please, nobody could make me up - I'm too complex, nobody's got that kinda imagination," you smirked, legs crossed, seated beside Bucky on a sofa; both facing his therapist.

"I'm glad you could finally join us - I've been asking James to bring you for a while now," Dr. Raynor's eyes darted between you and Bucky, making you feel as if she was seeing right into your soul. However, her tone was accusatory, as if scolding Bucky.

So, you swiftly defended, "Well, I'm happy to be here. Bucky's one of my top priorities, I'd do anything for him - including attending any of these silly mandated sessions. Which are bullshit, by the way, because he's not the Winter Soldier anymore so why is Bucky being crucified? Why is this being pinned on him when he technically didn't do anything? The Winter Soldier did."

"Well, healing often takes time and dedication, and must be done in a series of steps. That's how you see real progress. These sessions are a condition of his pardon - "

"I can't believe your government would even enforce these silly little rules considering Bucky's assistance. He fought against Thanos, he fought on our side, and by all means, helped restore what was lost. I just find it pretty dehumanizing to force him to jump through hoops. I mean, for Christ's sake, half the universe was snapped away, you'd think after that, there wouldn't be need for pardons or contingencies - or for holding onto grudges."

"This is simply how we keep order in a post-Blip society. Everything changed in those five years, it's necessary to keep balance amongst all worldly citizens."

You scoffed lightly, "Ever consider these sessions might be doing more harm than good?"

Raynor frowned, "Despite the Winter Soldier being decommissioned, James still has trauma to process and skeletons to clear out of the closet. Yes, the Winter Soldier is gone, but the man remains - and James needs to focus on healing that part of himself. Whatever he did as the Winter Soldier wasn't Bucky's doing, but he still remembers all he did, which creates a heavy toll on the mind. That's part of the reason these sessions are mandated - because the assassin might be gone, but the residual effects still linger."

You hummed, "Well, let's get into it, Doc."

"You know... I've heard a lot about you. James paints you in a very bright light, says your bark and bite are equally as vicious."

"Hm," you nodded, brows perked, "yet I don't know shit about you."

"Perfectly natural. Typically, most people don't gossip about their therapists. It's nice that you could join us for this session."

"Nice to be invited."

She clicked her pen and settled her pad securely on her lap, just staring at you and Bucky for a long moment. You were ready to snap at her when she opened her mouth, "So, I hear you adopted a cat?"

"We did," you confirmed.

"Alpine," Bucky supplied, body rigid with tension and nerves.

"Right... Alpine," Raynor nodded, leaning her elbow to an arm of her padded chair. "How did this cat come into your possession?"

"We rescued her from a dumpster," Bucky answered stiffly.

"Really?" Raynor perked both brows.

"She was under some pieces of cardboard, screamin' her li'l head off," You chuckled. "Though, I think it's safe to say she chose us, adopted us as caregivers."

"How's that?"

"She wouldn't let us pick her up and we were afraid to take her in case her mama was lingering around. Turns out, she followed us. We were at a crosswalk when she caught up, demanding we pick her up and take her home."

"Is that so?"

"I'd like to think so," you nodded. "We were already on our way to the shelter, so, we took her with us, got her checked out."

"Why were you heading to the shelter to begin with?"

"Oh, uh, to adopt a dog. I had a colleague recommend an emotional support animal - or a companionship animal - to help Bucky feel less alone."

Raynor made a note of something. "You work often?" She asked.

"Often enough that I feel guilty for leaving. Figured getting a dog would instill a sense of dependence, you know, help Bucky feel like there was someone depending on him. Help usher in comfort and stability, help keep him calm, focused, distracted. But Alpine does the same thing - no dog necessary, apparently."

Raynor nodded, her wrinkles dimpling as she frowned and wrote down another note. When her eyes lifted, so did her lips; a smirk on display as she praised, "I actually think that's a wonderful idea. You know, there's been a lot of research about soldiers with PTSD benefitting from an emotional support animal. You're right, they promote peace, stability, distraction - gives patrons a tangible purpose, taking care of another life not their own."

"For sure, again, anything to help," you agreed, holding Bucky's gloved hand he kept covered by leather - only worn in public.

"Although, I wonder, why get a pet? I ask because James speaks highly of you, credits you for keeping him stable and on-track. Do you feel as if she's not enough, James? Is that why you kept Alpine?"

"No," he answered instantly, "she's my best girl and will always be enough. Watch your mouth, Doc."

"But sometimes extra help is nice," you tacked on, tightening your hand in Bucky's. "But for what it's worth, Dr. Raynor, Bucky keeps me sane. I keep him balanced. We keep each other safe. Alpine's just an added bonus, a quiet menace to help quell the business of our brains."

Raynor smirked, "I must say, you surprise me, Miss."

"I'm no stranger to mental health. But as I said before, I just want to help." You looked up at Bucky, finsihing softly, "He deserves peace in this lifetime - and if a little ball of fur can help, sign me up..."

requesting rules and masterlist

Marvel masterlist

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged theory

Sanemi and Giyuu are exes (Part 2)

Ok so this part is just spoilers galore but if you don't mind then ok. Here's part one.

The second beginning

During the final battle after they have both unlocked their demon slayer marks. They are more open with each other, Sanemi has learned to trust others and Giyuu has learned to trust himself and Sanemi throwing the sword is awesome for him because it's Sanemi telling him that 'I trust you, don't let me down!' and Giyuu thinks 'Yes! I'll do my best!'. The previous training that they've done now comes into play because they know each other's moves and are able to fight together seamlessly!

The last shot of them eating Giyuu's favorite dish together not only calls back to Sanemi's offer, but I feel that it's also a way for Giyuu to begin opening up, like he's telling Sanemi 'This is me' and that he wants Sanemi back and wants to mend their relationship.

The side eye Sanemi's giving Giyuu is so funny because he seems wary. I can just imagine their conversation.

Sanemi: You'd better not fuck this up again, or I will leave your ass for good.

Giyuu (already playing the part of the whipped husband): Yes, dear.

Some proof

Like I said in the Part 1, I already talked about the romantic undertones in Giyuu's attempts to connect with Sanemi by his body language and expressions. It's obvious Giyuu wants him and now that Tanjiro has touched his heart a second time, he now has a stronger understanding of his emotions and what he wants.

Here, I'll list a bunch of tidbits that point to them having a previous relationship.

Giyuu and Tanjiro's discussion about Sanemi post coma-inducing punch should've stopped at theories as to what type of bean paste he likes, but they kept on talking about him. I don't think Giyuu would do that if he didn't know more stuff about Sanemi, maybe through their past interactions, his own observations or both.

Giyuu describes Sanemi as grumpy and hot-tempered in the Corps records, contrast this with his thoughts on Obanai. He feels sad and doesn't know why our snek boy doesn't like him but with Sanemi the short description he gives is similar to one I would give about someone I'm familiar who has a major flaw that I can't ignore that makes it hard for me to connect with them.

How did Sanemi know where Giyuu's training grounds were? Even Tanjiro who has spent a considerable time with Giyuu still needed a map for directions. You might argue that Sanemi's crow probably told him where Giyuu's place is, but neither of their crows are present during the entire scene. So Sanemi has to have known where, which means he's probably been there before and has sparred with him in the past.

I've talked about how their fight was similar to a conversation than actual training, and the way that they're able to perfectly counter and dodge each other's moves tells me that this isn't their first time sparring. There's also Sanemi's demeanor during the fight, in his training with Obanai and Muichiro, he was serious but with Giyuu he's...smiling? He was enjoying himself, even his taunts to Giyuu had a playful edge to it. It's like he's happy to be sparring with an old friend.

Giyuu's lack of reaction when Sanemi suggests that they beat each other up. He doesn't seem threatened, it's like he knows that Sanemi isn't actually going to hurt him and based on Sanemi's annoyance at Tanjiro coming between them, there's a small chance that Sanemi might have been joking and Giyuu knew it. It wasn't as big of a deal as Tanjiro made it out to be.

In Conclusion, Sanemi and Giyuu probably have history, which is why the vibes between them feel like they're an old, married couple.

*Yes, I am crazy and yes, this is an ADHD, 4 hours of sleep, caffeine-induced breakdown. Their relationship is my current hyperfixation, and I'm going to make it everyone's problem 🙂. It's all Ufotable's fault.

[toon-tales]

Hiya! Ok, so, this will be a continuation to this post! We'll be analyzing Broppy throughout Twt!

Let's begin!

Now, everything has changed. Poppy's the queen, and Branch... well, you know, found his true colors

Here's the thing, Branch is now much nicer to Poppy, unlike how he was in the first movie. He admires her, just like he used to do, but difference is, he's admiring her also in front of everyone, like, not literally admiring but you get it

Moving on to the part where Branch tries to confess his love to Poppy

Branch was about to say something really important to him, like, super duper important, and Poppy? She wasn't paying attention to him! Like, yeah, she would look at him but her mind was somewhere else, which, takes a point from her

"Being a good queen is the most important thing in the world to me, other than being your friend!"

I like that she included their friendship (much to Branch's dismay), because it shows that she did notice Branch's hurt expression, which gives her the point back

Seconds later, the high-five failed, miserably, if I may say, and what I really disliked is how Poppy was chill about it! She literally said, "For some reason we don't seem to make a good connection!" with that smile. But I'm sure this issue will be discussed later

Takes a deep breath

Anyway, let's skip to the scene of the strings, because I love love LOVE the difference between Branch's and Poppy's characters

"It's when all the trolls lived in harmony, and what's more important than living in harmony?"

"Well, I heard fighting. The strings together leads to fighting."

They're both right, again. Like I said in part 1, they both look at things from different perspectives yet they're both right.

The strings together did mean one big party, before it eventually led to the fighting

This is exactly like the scene when Poppy decided to go to Barb. Branch knew he couldn't leave her alone, and Poppy, in return, knew she didn't want to do this by herself

Let's move on to this scene:

You can clearly see that one of the focuses of the movie is that Poppy never listened to anyone but herself, and it shows. Even Branch didn't like it, you can see it in his face

But does Poppy take all the blame? Nope, I don't think so. Why? Look. True, she didn't hear anyone, but has anyone actually talked?

When they went to jail, all Branch did was comfort her. Yeah, she needed comfort because of what has just been said to her, but Branch could've approached the matter gently. But we don't know if he would've said that, because Biggie interrupted them

Later, when Hickory showed up, Poppy literally put too much trust into him, and Branch tried to tell her, but he didn't press the matter, which wasn't right of him. He should've expressed his feelings more, but they were about to get caught, so we don't really blame either of them

Now later, in this scene:

You can see that Poppy actually seemed to think about what Branch just told her. Maybe she just needed someone to say something. And I really want to know what would've happened if Chaz didn't interrupt them

And even more later, you can see how sad Branch is that Biggie said the truth to Poppy. And even more sad, and overthinking, when Hickory pointed out that Poppy doesn't listen

Until boy finally let it out

"But you never listened to me." All he wanted was her to listen to him! Like, bro!

"What do you mean?" And I think she was actually trying to at this point

Now, what i really love is how both of them seemed troubled by their own words

Unlike the usual fights, where (not all, just to be clear) people just want to bring each other down and prove they're right. They were genuinely upset, and accidentally let it out on each other

But I also want to point out how Poppy was when Branch left, cause, girl literally looked like she was about to cry. Her breathing was heavy too

And now, to 'Perfect for me'

Hear me out-

Now, there are two meanings for this sentence. It could mean that Branch is saying Poppy is the one, or it could mean that he's not enough for her. Imma go with the first suggestion for a reason: it would be 'too perfect for me', and I really think the lyrics goes better with the first one. Anyway, let me know what you guys think!

Now, here's the thing

Poppy wasn't listening to anyone other than herself or whoever agreed with her. She wanted to prove herself as a good queen, and it got them in trouble. She trusted a STRANGER. But to Branch? Oh, she was perfect

See, he loved her, flaws and all, and he was always there for her even if she got into a problem because of her recklessness. He was always there to catch her when she fell

And let's not forget that while Branch is now a gentleman, he was rude to Poppy for far too long. He crashed her invites in front of everyone, he didn't want to save the snack pack from the Bergens. But he had changed, and Poppy saw that. She saw his true colors, she saw him change for the better, even if he was still sarcastic and disagreed with her sometimes. He was perfect. She loved him, even before he got his true colors, as a friend at least

They both said words, hurtful words, yet each one thought of how perfect the other was for them

And I think more people need to understand that differences don't tear you apart

Skip, skip, skip, skip, skip, and hold it here:

Friendly reminder that they haven't talked, haven't made up, haven't literally anything since the fight, yet here Branch is, with a look of sheer panic on his face when he saw Poppy about to get hit. And here Poppy is, with this concerned look on her face and that desperate, "Branch," for her future boyfriend when he got hit instead

And now, to the confession scene:

Can you see how Branch looked at her? He looked proud, like, really proud

"And I love you, queen Poppy." He didn't say 'Poppy' like earlier. He said 'queen'. And I think that means that he now sees her as a true queen, after she had learned her lesson

Now can you see Poppy's eyes when Branch said that? She's happy, like, her eyes are literally wide with happiness. See the love in her eyes when she looks at him?!

Anywayyyyyy, that's it for Twt, hope you guys like it. As usual, feel free to add or comment on anything, and stay tuned for part 3!

Part one

Part three

[yumeaoka-chan]

Hunger Pains

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Reader/ Ghoul! Hobie x Human! Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Tags: Tokyo Ghoul au, Blood, Ghoulified Hobie, no physical description of reader, can be read as gender neutral reader, scared reader, badass Hobie (I'm really not good at writing fight scenes, ugh), cursing, death (not as bad as you think), lovesick reader, lovesick Hobie, hungry boi Hobie, "The lion falls in love with the lamb" basically

Summary: You go to visit Hobie after not hearing from him for weeks.

A/N: Credit for the lovely banners goes to @the-shroom-garden !!! Late entry for week 3 of Octobie, I'm sorry @the-kr8tor 😭🤚 I got sick outta nowhere, so I'm currently laying in bed as I post this😔 I was going to write a Baldur's Gate 3 au but, the angst potential of Tokyo Ghoul kept screaming at me😭🤚

Taking a deep breath, you knock softly on the door, the houseboat calmly rocking on the water.

“Hobie? Are you in there?” You call out, a frown forming on your lips as you notice no lights are on inside. It's eerily quiet, especially at this time of night. You knew you should've waited until the morning. Tears sting your eyes and you inhale shakily, trying to will the feeling away. Hobie has been distant lately, almost as if he was avoiding you. If you call, he doesn't pick up. When you went to his band practice, his bandmates claimed he wasn't there. And when you went to his favorite hiding spot, the rooftop of a small local music shop that overlooks the city, he was nowhere to be seen.

Just when things were going so well, you thought to yourself as you slowly made your way off of his boat. You and Hobie had been friends for what felt like forever, being together through most of Primary school and all throughout Secondary. Even now, while you are enrolled in college, you two are thick as thieves. Throughout the years, your fondness and admiration of him had slowly formed into adoration and, dare you say it, love. You were in love with him, had been in love with him for quite a while. And just when you had worked up the courage to tell him how you feel, he practically ghosts you.

Walking through the shortcut through the alleyway to get to your dorm, you don't notice the set of eyes watching you from the rooftops, too busy lamenting over Hobie and what you could have done to push him away. The late night streets are silent, not a single soul out due to the frigid cold of the winter breeze. Shivering, you pull your jacket tighter around your body, sniffling from the cold or tears, perhaps. As you trudge on, you suddenly hear something behind you. The faintest of footsteps, the most quiet of chuckles. The very sound makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end, goosebumps raising on your arms. Taking a steadying breath, you keep walking, albeit quicker than before. No good would come of acknowledging the sound, that much you knew.

The footsteps draw nearer still, making your heart begin to pound in your chest. Your pulse quickens, your breath hitches, and you suddenly forget to remain calm. Zipping and darting through the deserted streets of London, you try to lose your pursuer through the series of backstreets. Fear grips your chest as you hear the footsteps grow even closer, the chuckles now turned into cackles. How could you be so stupid? Walking around this late, knowing full well that they lurked in the shadows. You want to cry when you slam into a tall metal gate, hurriedly looking over your shoulder. That's when you see him. Tall and broad and practically frothing at the mouth, the long blue appendage coiled around his arm gleaming under the light of the moon. His grin is unhinged, eyes glowing red with pulsing veins surrounding them. When they meet your gaze, you can see the eagerness in them. It makes you let out a fearful cry as you scramble to climb over the gate.

A hand suddenly grips your foot, making you slip and cut your palm open on the sharp metal. You let out a hiss and you struggle to free your foot, fear clawing its way into your chest. The ghoul behind you inhales deeply, salivating at the scent of your blood oozing down your arm.

“Been so long since I had such a good looking meal. I'll savor you, little lambchop.” He cackles as he wrenches you away from the gate with one strong tug. You yelp as you fall down harshly onto the ground, your nose the first to collide onto the asphalt. Head swimming from the impact, you hardly register the crimson dripping from your nose, eyes blearily looking up at your captor with horror. And as he pried open his dripping maw, you could see your life flashing before your eyes. Every joyous moment, every harsh disappointment. And yet, no memory shined brighter than those that involved Hobie. You were going to die before ever getting to reveal your feelings to him. Lips wobbling and tears falling, you gazed at the face of your demise and whispered the one you wanted to see most.

“Hobie…” Just as quick as those words left your lips, the ghoul in front of you was viciously ripped away. Eyes wide with shock and disbelief at the sudden rescue, you blink up at the figure suddenly standing above you. His back was turned to you and sprouting from it were eight long, sharp, spider leg like tendrils. They were as red as the darkest of wines and glowed brightly, illuminating the alleyway. Squinting your eyes, you could see the faint outline of his head, the hair on his head making you gasp. Not just the hair, the clothes too. The leather jacket on his back and the boots that adorned him were all too familiar. Sitting up a bit, your lips tremble as you utter his name.

“I-Is that you… Hobie…?” Hearing his name on your lips is like a godsend everytime, but not this time. Not when you're shaking like a leaf from fear. Hobie grits his teeth as he turns to look down at you, hearing the sharp intake of breath you make when you see his eyes. One brown and one a glowing red, angry red veins surrounding it. He gives you a placating smile before turning his head back to glare at the ghoul that's now standing across from him. The taller man snarls, spit flying from his lips as his coiled appendage glows brighter.

“You filthy One-Eyed! That's my dinner! I called dibs!” Crouching low and spider-like appendages curling around his form, Hobie glares harshly at the other.

“Touch a hair on this one's head and I'll fuckin’ kill you”, he utters lowly, voice on the edge of a growl. The taller ghoul cackles and points his finger at Hobie, eyes wild and sharp with mania.

“That right? I'll just devour you before I feast on the lambchop's flesh then!” With a roaring shout, the crazed ghoul rushes at Hobie, his sharp coiled appendage aimed straight for his chest. Fury rumbles in his chest as Hobie dashes forward to meet him, his deadly appendages shooting forward to harshly stab the ghoul's shoulder. The broad man howls with pain before twisting his body free of them, arm moving to swipe at the other's chest. Wincing as he feels it slice through his shirt and graze his skin, Hobie uses his appendages to propel himself into the air, before viciously bringing them down onto the man's head.

The fight goes on for several minutes, your eyes darting to and fro as you try to spot Hobie in all the madness. They're both quick and every blow you see him take makes you grip your chest, scared that he'll die in this violent whirlwind. Your heart hammers in your ears and it feels like the bloody battle drones on for nearly an hour. There's dust as they kick up and crack the asphalt beneath their feet, making it impossible to see through. Stumbling on your feet, your ears pick up the sudden wail of pain that rings in the air. It's silent then, the dust slowly clearing.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly walk forward, stepping closer to where you can hear the sounds of harsh panting. Just as you step into the circle of dust, you see a glowing red eye staring back at you.

“Don't!” Hobie's booming command rings in your ear and your body seizes up almost automatically. As the dust finally starts to settle, you can see how he grips his right side, blood flowing through his fingers. His other hand is held out in your direction, palm facing you in a clear indication for you not to come any closer. Hobie's face is scrunched up in a painful grimace as he watches concern flit across your features. He adamantly shakes his head, feet slowly backing away from you.

“Don't”, he says, softer this time, like he can't mask the agony that colors his voice. “P-Please just… don't…” He can't take it, can't take how good you smell. How good your blood smells. Skin that he knows would be so soft beneath his fingers, so giving as his nails dig into your arm, leaving marks that would never fade as his lips descend onto your neck. Hobie closes his eyes as the very image seers inside of his brain. It's so vivid that he can almost taste it, taste the way your skin gives beneath his teeth as he gorges himself on the divine banquet that is your flesh.

“No, no, fuck, no…”, he mumbles to himself, hand that was held out to you now gripping his hair. He tugs on the coarse hair, biting his lip so hard that he breaks the skin. “Not Star… Not my Star…” Because how could he ever think to harm you, his Star, his light in this oppressed world? Just the fact that he even imagined tainting you, defiling your body with his disgusting, atrocious hunger… Tears slip down his cheeks as he feels the gaping blackhole in his stomach nag at him, begging him to feast on you, the one he loved most. Because what is love if not to consume and be consumed in return?

You weren't blind to his internal conflict, seeing the way he leered at you before stumbling back, farther away from you. Taking a step forward, you're careful to avoid stepping on the body of the dead ghoul in front of him. Hobie's head shoots up and it makes your heart ache, seeing the waterfall of tears cascading down his cheeks. He's shaking his head furiously as he stumbles back slowly and you steel your resolve, even as he yells and curses at you. Shouts of “No, stay back” and “I'll hurt you, please stay back” ring in your ears and with a heavy heart, you press on. Hobie's back is pressed against a brick wall by the time you come face to face with him, his lips trembling and long legs shaking slightly.

“Hobie”, you breathe out softly as you press a shaky hand against his cheek, making him shudder. “Hobes… Is this why you've been avoiding me…?” His face twists into a visibly pained scowl as he clenches his eyes shut. Taking a careful breath, he slowly nods his head. Fear releases its icy claws from your heart, leaving only tenderness and concern for the man before you. You wait patiently as he calms his frantic breathing, the appendages surrounding him slowly retreating into his back. When he looks at you again, you see his brown eyes glistening, the hunger still lurking beneath the depths of his lipid pools. You give him a small smile, acceptance shining in your soft gaze.

“Tell me everything. From the beginning, okay?” Is what you whisper to him. Hobie can't help but bask in the bright light, the shining beacon that is you. It's then and there that he's determined to find a way to put that sickening hunger to sleep for good, his love for you stronger than his beast.

“It's… a long story, love…”

[themoonsbride]

After Dark | Albert Aretz x Reader

summary; Albert and Reader watch a movie together after he spends a long day filming for his channel .

warnings; none

notes; sorry I've been so inactive, I've been busy and haven't had motivation, hopefully I can start posting more often now . ♡ (sorry this is short)

(edit 7/19/23); lmao ty all for the likes even though it's short hehe, lmk in my inbox if I should write another albert scenario <3

°.•♡•.°

I've been scrolling through my phone for awhile now, mindlessly liking tweets and Instagram posts, waiting for albert to finish filming. He told me he'd finish around 7 pm, but it was now 8, and he seemed so occupied he wasn't even able to come out of his office to eat dinner.

I didn't want to disturb him so I just let him in his office and waited, and waited,, and waited. I think he's filming with Kaden because it's sounded like he's been talking to someone else.

"KADEN NO" I suddenly heard albert scream from his office, I almost dropped my phone onto my chin from the sudden alarm. Suppose I was right, I've met Kaden a few times before in the past, and he's really nice. I like his red hair, it's so bright red it reminds me of a tomato. I've also met some of Albert's other friends too, like Denis and Dani (Polarclub) and Temprist. They're all very nice people outside of their work, me and Dani are actually pretty close friends, and Denis is nice to talk to aswell, and his girlfriend is the sweetest.

"KADEN I TOLD YOU TO JUMP" Albert yelled, I sigh and find myself quietly giggling a little. Turning off my phone screen I decide to turn on the flat-screen TV that was kept sat on the black TV table across the king sized bed Albert and I shared. watching one of my favorite shows on a low enough volume for it to not disturb Albert's filming but loud enough for me to hear.

After what felt like the time span of 3 days, Albert finally entered the bedroom, looking worn out. "Hey" I speak softly, smiling at him. "Hey, did you make dinner earlier?" He asked, he probably felt like he was starving since he didn't eat, maybe I should've told him that I'd made food after all. "Yeah, but I didn't wanna be a bother so I just left it in the fridge for you." I reply, a hint of guilt clouds over his eyes as he sits next to me on our bed. "You never bother me, I wouldn't have care if you came in, my editor would've just clipped it out." His voice was slow and quiet. "I know, but I still would've felt bad." I responded as I slowly sat up, facing him properly.

"If you want I can go heat it up for you?" I say, in a question like manner, he smiles warmly at me and places a soft, long kiss to my lips, and I can feel it make my cheeks glow pink. I pull away and begin to stand and exit our bedroom.

When I enter through the doorway, warm porcine plate in hand with Albert's dinner, he's already lay in bed, the comforter pulled up to his biceps with a movie prepped on the TV screen, the lights dimmed lowly. I give him a small smile as I hand him his plate carefully. "I was hoping we could watch a movie together." He whispered down to me, pressing play. "I'd love to watch a movie with you." I mumble, kissing his cheek and snuggling myself into his side, attempting to be cautious of his food at the same time.

[the-way-astray]

what is going on

let me take you back to half a week ago, when this first started.

it all starts with a simple notification. i click on it, thinking it's an innocent ask, or perhaps an anon wanting to pick a fight with me. i am a notorious keefe hater in this fandom, after all. let's see what the anons have to throw at me this time. if only that small, innocent, little me from four days ago had known. the notification was nothing short of a snake, hiding in the grass, waiting to strike.

it was alayda. she'd dared me to write something *horrified gasp* positive about keefe. she thought me, a notorious keefe hater, couldn't possibly have anything nice to say about my least favorite guy? well, i'd show her. i typed out a truly magnificent pro keefe essay, if i do say so myself. tumblr fought me the entire time, trying to delete half of it, but i persevered, and eventually posted it.

i had no idea what was coming for me. over the next few hours, i began to get truly heinous asks, questioning my commitment to my keefe hatred, and generally slandering my reputation. at the time, i'd thought this was as bad as it could get. but, oh. oh, no, no, no. as edaline ruewen said, "hindsight is a dangerous game". now i know that it could get worse than i could possibly even begin to imagine. and it did.

that same day, i got the ask. the one that changed everything. i responded in horrified horror, terrified terror, because i knew everything was about to change. and the next day, it appeared that other anons had followed in the first anon's footsteps. it was decided that me and keefe would be an enemies-to-lovers romance. our ship name was to be strieefe. an anon went to the official poll blog, @/do-you-ship-this-book-couple. i changed my ask box title to "KEEFE WOULD NOT LIKE ME" and got an anon about it. they started going to katie's ask box.

the debate ramped up. more people became aware. people, both anon and not, began to choose sides. i began offering badly drawn sketches to people who sided against this atrocious excuse for a ship. i should probably be making those instead of typing this out. whoopsie. i fought the anons that disagreed with me with a desperation akin to a rat caught in a trap, but my thrashing appeared to only attract more unhinged anons.

i then got my first anon that made a genuine attempt to explain why this horrible ship could theoretically work. they were wrong, of course, but i appreciate the effort. as i've explained countless times, the real relationship me and keefe would have if he were real would be one-sided hatred. i would hate him with a passion that can't be adequately described by the english language, and he'd be entirely unaware of my existence.

then! a miracle! an anon sent an ask to quil about strieefe, and i can only assume they wanted quil to analyze why we'd be good together. but quil, i never should've doubted quil. the response was a fantastically constructed analysis on why i was right about how i'd have one-sided rage toward keefe. but my delight dimmed significantly when i saw that fin, someone whom i'd previously trusted, had thrown his support behind this awful ship and even drawn fanart of me and keefe. i swiftly demoted him from the spot he had previously shared with max: "favorite fintanposter".

the anons got more unhinged. i began to be shipped with non-keefe main cast characters, sometimes monogamously, sometimes not. i bravely faced the assault, tearing the anons' arguments to shreds with my logical explanations as to why i would not be a good fit for any of them. this led to me posting a poll at the insistence of one anon, which is still open.

just as the waters were looking significantly less treacherous, just as it seemed i may make it to shore without drowning, a new development occurred. i got an ask from alayda, who as you may remember, is the one that started all this. this is entirely her fault. i'd expected maybe a heartfelt apology, perhaps a plea for forgiveness. but no. her ask was but an ominous warning, one i could not make sense of. i pondered the meaning as i stared at it. and then. horror upon horrors, it appeared in my inbox. i read through it in horrified horror, and my rickety little boat was once more swept out to sea.

it was a fanfic. a terribly written, horribly wattpad-ified, y/n-ish fanfic. i tore it to shreds thoroughly, taking pleasure as the scraps of the work of the one who had brought all this sorrow upon me fell in loose tatters all around me. i dusted off my hands and left it at that.

but it continued. even as i type this out, there is a part two to that horrific fanfic sitting in my inbox, which alayda is pestering me to post. there's also a part one to another anon fanfic, which is written relatively well, which arguably makes it even worse than alayda's. then there's yet another poem written about me and keefe by emelin, which also sits in my inbox, gathering dust as i attempt to piece the broken shards of my sanity back together.

all this to say, join the correct side of this debate. we have badly drawn sketches and braincells. be on the right side of history.

[according2thelore]

Do you know what just occurred to me about the Ls/es verse? And I don’t know if you’ve written this- but like. LsDean is obviously hilariously jealous. Everyone is jealous of everyone here. And he’s super jealous about the care lssams face, and the possibility of sex, and everything. But like. Can you imagine esdean making lssam laugh? Like? Hysterically. The huge belly laughs that aren’t even easy to get out of essaam- Sam’s never laughed too easy. But lssam? You get smiles and chuckles. You don’t get that huge laughter anymore. Not for years. And just watching/walking in on. Esdean cracking up lssam? Holy shit. Murderous rage. Crippling insecurity. Just. Peak peak jealousy and hatred for himself. I’m not entirely sure lsdean wouldn’t take a swing.

GAH!!!! reporting this post to a trusted adult!!!

i absolutely had to write this--your mind...it's too big...

dean hears it when he's coming in from the garage.

his feet turn and begin a pilgrimage before he can even think about it, drawn to that sound like he's sure vultures have been drawn to the smell of carrion for millennia.

as he gets closer, it registers.

laughter. sam's laughter. his sammy's laughter. the voice is deep, booming, too low for sam's 2006 voice. disbelief and something that feels vaguely like nausea makes dean's stomach twist as he picks up his pace.

he finds them in the laundry room.

"that was the worst line i've ever heard" sam sputters between bouts of--dean rounds the corner, and yes, it is. laughter. raucous, side-splitting, freeing laughter.

sam howls again, loud, long peals of laughter bursting from him as he has to hold himself up on the washing machine.

young dean is laying a few feet away from him in a puddle of spilled laundry detergent, goopy blue sludge slipping under his palms as he props himself up. he looks up at sammy like sammy has created the earth, like sammy is the first human person he's seen in a decade. his eyes are wide, adoring, the ghost of a smile on his own lips as if to sip from sam's joy, mouth twitching in small movements around nothing as he tries and fails to come up with words.

sammy's head is thrown back.

dean's breath catches in his throat when sam tilts forward, laughing so hard that he's holding onto his stomach. his hair falls into his face.

he looks younger. decades younger. he looks like when dean--running on two hours of sleep and three skin-of-the-teeth hunts--had glued the slide of his gun to his hand when he mistook a bottle of gorilla glue for the gun oil. he looks like when he was six, rolling around crying because dean had tickled him.

dean hasn't been able to make him laugh like this in...

something shriveled and angry and mean contracts in dean's stomach.

dean wants to go over and slam his younger self's head into the concrete, again, again, until his stupid teeth out, until sam stops laughing like that, like he...like he--

younger dean is still looking up at sam like he's god--and fuck, tears leaking out of his eyes from mirth, face pink, dissolving into helpless giggles, sammy might as well be.

they were doing laundry together.

dean's ears ring.

the world snaps into focus, like unmuting a football game on TV just as the introductory musical sting plays, deafening.

sam--as if he can hear dean's life crumpling like a tin can--lifts his head. his smile dims a little, and dean wants to fucking goddamn die. when did he become a person that makes sam's joy wilt? when did he become a person that couldn't make sam laugh like this?

"dean," sam says, out of breath, still chuckling a little. his eyes flick over dean's face, then away back at dean on the ground. "you should've seen it--"

"hey!" his younger self squawks, spreading his legs a little like he's doing snow angels in the pool of detergent. "not cool, dude. let me die in my silent, clean shame."

sammy collapses.

he's holding his stomach, brow pulled together and mouth open as he cackles like he has no worries at all.

dean takes an aborted step forward, feeling raw and vulnerable like an exposed nerve, like a hunter without a brother at his back.

he's nauseous.

dean hates this. he hates that sammy needs this so bad that stopping it would be cruel, hates that he cannot give sam what he needs. since when has he not been able to give sam what he needs? what he wants? since when can sam find necessary things from others?

dean is furious, but he's not sure at whom. his hands shake, so he bundles them into fists. he looks at his younger self, who pales visibly.

dean has been labouring over sam's laughter. he's been putting in minutes and hours and days building up jokes, throwing out quips like one tries to take shots at a bullseye. he's gotten chuckles, sure, and one time--it sticks out like a recording in dean's head--sam had rocked with silent laughter when the coroner they were interviewing sneezed so hard he fell backwards into his tray of tools and sent scalpels flying.

dean has been working himself raw to get sam to look like this. and here comes this--this interloper, and makes sam look fifteen years younger, make side-splitting, joyful laughter spill from his lips.

he has never hated anything more, body and mind warring with each other as sam's laughter makes dean's shoulders untense, make his chest fill lopsided-full, and as his mind focuses on his younger self, an impudent little bastard.

has dean...has dean lost this?

he thought that sam had just been through too much to laugh so hard he cried. but clearly, he can. clearly, only dean's younger self can do this. clearly, sam can only be coaxed into joy by this...this boy. clearly, sam has a preference. a favourite.

the problem wasn't sam's. it--all along--has been dean's fault.

dean's lost this ability. somehow, somewhere, dean became too cynical or too mean or too warped for sam to feel this.

"hey, man, it's not--" his younger self says, smile completely gone and face grave. he looks--and goddamn him straight to hell--sympathetic. understanding.

dean doesn't want to be understood.

he doesn't want his failure to be understood, to be seen in real time, acknowledged that he is inferior, that there are parts of him that sam can love better, and those parts died years ago.

dean's going to kill him. he knows he's breathing fast, can feel the spark of violence right in his neck, in his arms, in his hands. he wants to slam dean's stupid face into the fucking concrete. he wants to hit him until he is as unrecognizable as dean is, until he loses this thing that sam clearly loves so much.

he tolerated the little bastard before now because he understands his awe, knows that the kid can't be helped but drawn into sam more than a sailor can be pulled towards the sea. he's an annoying little shit, and doesn't know his limits, but dean--on some level--got it.

but now he has something that dean wants, has something dean mourned for years, thought he wasn't ever getting back.

dean turns, before he can take another step forward and do something that'll turn sam against him forever, and, like a coward, flees.

GAHH your mind...i am now Thinking...you're so right LS!Dean would either be throwing punches or barely holding himself back... thank you sm for this ask!!! <3

-lizzy

(ES/LS masterlist here)

[sockatoothewafflebird]

regarding my previous post abt caitlyn.

"multiple times she's shoved into a seat she doesn't know how to fill, while mentally unfit to fill it. and she accepts it because the eyes of the world are upon her. she's a kiramman, she will take the crown even if it won't stick to her head. even if the crown has bloodstains on it. even if those bloodstains are an oddly familiar shade of pink that she wishes she could run her fingers through..."

that's what my prev post said. and i'd like to add to this. super long analysis warning lmao sorryyy

we've got a lot on caitlyn's plate. she has to fill the shoes of her mother, who DIED, and she isn't given a moment to breathe. she's faced with a hole she'll never be able to fill and she's forced to focus on getting rid of the problem rather than focusing on herself for a while. ambessa doesn't help bringing together the nobles of piltover and saying to basically the whole fucking city "caitlyn kiramman is your leader."

she's trying to run a city while under the influence of emotions she's yet to unpack. it can't be good for her. topped with her having forgotten what she's shooting for.

caitlyn has a heart of gold, only tainted by the corrupt system piltover has in place. i'm still on the fence regarding whether her saying "i thought you were different" was her just saying things in a blind rage not really meaning it, or her saying it because she's still fundamentally prejudiced. leaning towards the latter but we'll just have to see.

in the beginning caitlyn was shooting because she wanted to help people and she wanted to incite change. in a way, that is what she's doing now, but her anger, grief, stress and fear are mutilating her original intent. now she's shooting because she wants revenge, whether she recognizes that or not.

the city needs healing, that's what she was shooting for. she's lost sight of that in her clouded mind; she's suffocated by her responsibilities, drowned by her feelings, and she's forced to push through despite it all.

back to the point. caitlyn has a lot on her plate. a dead mother, an undercity in chaos, a topside in fear, a love interest that she's either making out with or butting head with (no in-between), and the responsibility of controlling all of it. she cannot reasonably do that. there's no fucking way.

i think she's going to hold it all up beautifully at the start. just like normal she seems like an effortless lifter, but she will feel the snapping of her shoulders, breaking of her bones beneath the weight. she can't carry all of that alone, and i think that's what will bring her back to vi, to the undercity.

i can imagine it now...

"i can't do this alone, vi. i should have realized that a long time ago. never should've taken you for granted, never should've doubted you, never should've hit you, god that was so pathetic of me-"

"hey, we'll talk later, cupcake. right now we're kind of about to fucking die so like get your gun please"

thanks for coming to my ted talk. i'll be curled up in my corner with a corkboard covered in pictures and documents connected by thumbtacks and red string, all relating to caitlyn kiramman and/or the world she lives in

[risingode]

better than revenge

summary: you don't hate jungkook's best friend. no, you just really, really dislike her and her very apparent crush on your boyfriend

pairing: jungkook x y/n

genre: fluff, angst

wc: 2.6k

warnings: jungkook is so clueless, y/n talks about hitting people a lot, light making out, arin is very annoying

note: please comment or send me an ask to let me know what you think! this is my first post on here, i'm very nervous lol. i really hope you enjoy it !!

(loosely based on better than revenge by taylor swift, enjoy </3)

-

You and Jungkook had been looking forward to this trip to Hawaii for months. The two of you were excited to spend some time away from the stresses of everyday life and just enjoy each other's company. You had invited your friends, fellow couples Taehyung and Jennie, and Jimin and Jiyeon. Jungkook proposed, much to your dismay, that you could also ask Arin to tag along. Arin was his childhood friend, and as much as you tried to like her for your boyfriend's sake, it was so glaringly obvious how not so friendly her attraction was for him. You had brought this up to Jungkook when you first began dating, but he brushed it off, saying they both saw each other as brother and sister and that she was nothing to worry about.

You still had your reservations regarding her, but you didn't put up more of a fight, deciding instead to trust your boyfriend and his loyalty and love for you. The eight of you had just arrived at your hotel and were settling in your rooms. You and Jungkook shared a room, while Taehyung and Jennie, Jimin and Jiyeon, and Arin each had their own rooms. 

"Baby?" Jungkook asks. You turn your head in question. "Do you wanna go surfing real quick? We have nothing to do today besides the dinner reservation later tonight." 

You smile. The pair of you loved surfing, you began doing it together shortly after you started dating, and it became a sacred tradition you guys had. Every weekend, you would drive to the nearby beach by your shared apartment, surfboard in tow, and surf for hours.

"Of course, my love, let me unpack our clothes first and change into my bathing suit." He nods, squeezing your waist lightly. As you were unpacking, Arin came into your room to chat with Jungkook. Awkwardly, you shuffle into the bathroom to avoid unneeded interaction with her.

"So, have you decided what you want to do first?" Arin asks, trying to make conversation.

"I think we're going to hit the beach and maybe do some surfing," Jungkook replies. Your eye twitches, and you have to restrain every bone in your body from reaching over and slapping him over the head.

"That sounds like so much fun!" Arin exclaims. "Can I come with you guys?"

"Uh, sure," You say, trying to hide your annoyance. Of course. You feel your neck tighten in what you presumed to be pent-up frustration, yet, you know this was only the beginning. 'Whatever,' you thought. You were aware Arin couldn't surf, so you didn't feel bothered. You knew you could leave her behind to swim alone while the pair of you caught some waves. 

You should've known that Arin wouldn't keep her mouth quiet, though, because soon enough, the whole group was clambering into your small room, all rambling about how excited they were to surf. You didn't want to sound rude, but you and Jungkook hadn't spent much alone time together recently, and the thought of spending at least a few hours by yourselves sounded so good. You plaster a fake smile, and Jungkook sends you an apologetic one.

The group of you headed down to the beach, and like you predicted, Arin kept trying to join in, but she wasn't very good and kept falling off her board. Your satisfied smile turns sour, though, once Jungkook moves to grab her by the waist and set her back on her own two feet. You wish you could dunk his head underwater and hold him there. 

After a while, you all returned to the hotel to prepare for dinner. As you were getting dressed, Arin once again made herself at home in your room, chatting with Jungkook about how he needed to teach her how to surf. Your annoyance was bubbling over at this point because as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, you realized Arin was wearing a dress similar to the one you were in.

 This, of course, wouldn't have been a problem; coincidences happen! Yet, you knew you weren't being dramatic in your anger because this was the very same dress you had bought in the resort's small boutique that afternoon when you guys first arrived. The same boutique that all eight of you entered at the same time and where you spent an hour deciding which of the dresses you and the other girls should get and wear for dinner that night. You had all, Arin included, picked out four very different dresses. Your dress was decided by both yourself and Jungkook as he gloated about how beautiful you looked in it. Did she … Did she really go back and buy your same dress?

"Hey, Arin, that's the same dress I was going to wear tonight," You say, slightly annoyed.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I realized later that the one I had initially picked out wasn't flattering on me," Arin replies, not sounding very apologetic.

You quirk an eyebrow, "Hmm, that's so weird because you kept saying how it made you look so good back at the store!" A fake smile on display, you brush past her and make your way toward your boyfriend, struggling to button up his shirt.

"Be nice," He whispers. You finish buttoning up his shirt and reach up to smack him on the forehead. He could be really stupid.

You tried to brush it off, for Jungkook's sake, and you all headed out to dinner. During the meal, Arin kept trying to talk to Jungkook, ignoring you completely. Gritting your teeth at another one of her aggravating laughs, you settle a hand on Jungkook's shoulder, excusing yourself to the bathroom.

Resting your hands on the sink, you try to catch your breath. One, two, three. Breathe in, breathe out. One, two, three. Feeling a lot better now and not like you were going to throw a plate at the annoying girl, you splash some water on your face. You hear the creak of the bathroom door opening, and you tense up, fearing it is the one person you don't want to see.

"Oh my god, y/n, you need to come back right now. I can't stand being near that wench for another second." Jennie whines, reaching to wrap her arms around your waist. With a sigh of relief, you turn around to crush her into a hug. 

"Girl, I might throw myself out of the balcony any second. She's being so weird with Jungkook!"  You whine back, causing the girls to nod. 

"I noticed. If she did that with Jimin, trust me she would be lost at sea." Jiyeon giggles, brushing my hair out of my face. You smile weakly at her, and the three of you link arms and return to the table. 

"There's our girls!" Taehyung announces, getting the table's attention. Jungkook immediately looking over, reaching an arm out toward you and pouting his lips. You grab his arm and lean down to give him a light kiss, and he smiles into it.

"You okay, baby?" He asks. You reply with a curt nod. He frowns, noticing your obvious mood shift, yet before he can ask you what's up, his attention is again on Arin as she continues talking about whatever the hell she is talking about. 

As the night went on, you started to feel increasingly uncomfortable. You noticed that Arin honestly did not care. She looked so pathetic, reaching over to slap a hand on his thigh as she laughed. Yet, you knew you looked even more pathetic just watching your boyfriend letting it happen. After dinner, you all headed back to the hotel. You and Jungkook return to your room, and you sigh in relief once your back hits the bed. Jungkook follows suit, the two of you lying silently and staring at the ceiling.  

"Hey," He says, effectively getting your attention.

"Hm?" You ask, looking over at him. He sighs, reaching his arm up to cup your cheek. 

"I'm sorry we haven't been able to spend time alone today." He whispers. Your heart melts at his large, apologetic eyes. You hum, turning your body to face him better.

"It's okay, baby. I can't say I'm not sad. It's been so long since we've been alone together." You pout, his thumb reaching down to tuck it back into place.

"We're alone now," He smiles, and you nod. He leans in, drapes a leg over your body to tug you closer, and kisses you. You two get lost in each other's touch, but a knock comes from the door before it can get any further. 

You pull apart, chests heaving, and Jungkook pats your thigh as he gets up to answer it. You don't even act surprised at who stands on the other side.

"Hey, Jungkook, can I talk to you for a second?" Arin asks.

"Uh, sure," Jungkook says, looking confused. He looks back at you, smiling apologetically, before following after her.

You wait a few minutes, but when they don't return, you can't ignore your racing heartbeat and decide to see what is happening. As you turn the corner, you face one of the worst sights you've ever seen. Arin kissing Jungkook. You wouldn't be surprised if a heart-shaped hole manifested under you because you were sure it fell out and sank to the first floor.

"Jungkook?" You whisper. The pair break apart, Arin gazing up at you with wide eyes, yet not as wide as your startled boyfriend's.

"No, Y/N, it's not what it looks like," Jungkook tries to explain. You hold a hand up to silence him. You didn't notice you were crying until tears started falling onto your cheeks. 

"I can't believe you would do this to me," You whimper out, shaking your head and turning around, running back to the room. You barricade yourself inside, holding your head as you sob your heart out.

You packed your bags that night and left the trip early, ignoring everyone's phone calls.

Back home, you were heartbroken. You try to wrap your head around why? He told you, no, he promised you he would never cheat on you. That was the last thing on his mind, or so you thought. You beat yourself up, how could you be so stupid? He was practically cheating on you that whole trip. That kiss was just the nail in the coffin. 

Unbeknownst to you, your girlfriends had let Arin have it. They called her all the names in the book, cementing whose side they were on. Jungkook wasn't free from their criticism either. They had read him to filth, which resulted in their boyfriends having to drag them away before they legitimately beheaded him. They decided to end their trip short, too. 

A day after you left, the group decided to all come to your apartment at once. They could see some unresolved explanations to be said, and if Jungkook's incessant crying was any indicator, maybe you had gotten it all wrong. One part of it was to have everyone explain their side uninterrupted. The other part was that if there wasn't some sort of mediator, they were sure you would throw your microwave at Jungkook and Arin's heads. 

It leads you all here. Silent, sitting in your living room. You stare at the wall, trying to avoid Jungkook's piercing gaze. You know he's fighting every bone in his body not to jump over the coffee table and hug you. He always hated when you cried. You almost feel bad, his red-rimmed eyes and distraught demeanor tugging at your heartstrings. You remind yourself that he cheated on you and doesn't deserve your pity. 

After a while, Arin clears her throat, getting everyone's attention. You set your pointed gaze on her, waiting to hear the stupidity about to come out of her mouth.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you. I just couldn't help my feelings for Jungkook," Arin says, tears in her eyes. Oh? You were confused. Is she admitting that Jungkook didn't cheat on you? You look over at him, and he nods.

"She's right, Y/N. I would never cheat on you. Arin kissed me, and I would've pushed her away! I swear! But you walked in as soon as she kissed me. I didn't even have time to process what had just happened." He's pleading, inching closer to the edge of his seat, almost as if he would pounce on you at any second.

You sigh, sitting up. You look at Arin first. "Arin," you begin. "I've put up with your antics for as long as I can remember. I always knew you liked Jungkook, but I set my feelings aside because I know how important you two are to each other. But this? This was too far. You kissed my boyfriend, Arin. MY boyfriend. You had no right to do that."

She bows her head, muttering another small apology. You turn to Jungkook. "Jungkook. I communicated with you about my feelings regarding your friendship with her. You told me she wasn't a problem, that she wouldn't try anything. Look where that ended us up." He bites his lip, nodding his head in agreement.

You sigh again. "Arin, I forgive you. I know you and Jungkook have been friends for such a long time, and that maybe that manifested into love or whatever, but I need to make one thing clear. If I want my relationship to work out with Jungkook, I need you to stay away from us for the time being. Not for forever, but for a while." She hesitates before nodding, looking toward Jungkook, yet he doesn't even spare her a glance.

"I forgive you too," You say, looking at Jungkook. "But you need to agree with my proposition to make this work. If you can't do that, I really don't want to even bother giving you a second chance."

"Of course." He says almost instantly. You nod. 

The rest of your friends pipe up, apologizing for any part they may have played in the situation and promising to support you all in any way they could.

After everyone had left, you and Jungkookwere finally alone. The two of you sit down on the couch, and you let out a tense breath.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook says, taking your hand. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"I know," you reply, tears still in your eyes. "I just...I can't believe that happened."

"I promise you, Y/N, I love you and only you," Jungkook says, looking into your eyes. "Arin's feelings for me don't change that."

You took a deep breath and leaned into him. You knew he was right. Your love for each other was strong enough to overcome any obstacle, even something as painful as this.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you assured, feeling a weight lift off your chest.

You sat there for a while, just holding each other and talking about what had happened. The two of you agreed that you needed to be more mindful of boundaries in your friendships and that you would work together to make sure nothing like this ever happened again.

As the night wore on, you decided to order food and spend the rest of the evening together. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you were both determined to move past this and come out stronger on the other side.

Arin did eventually come back into your life many, many months later. Thankfully, you all had another conversation in which you reaffirmed your boundaries, and she graciously agreed to them. In the end, your love for each other only grew. You had weathered a brutal storm but came out on the other side more committed to each other than ever before.

[solar93-osc]

okay I'm going to write a little something about the this real quick* because it's actually annoying me

*this took over an hour

this is going to be a long post so I'll put it under a cut

THE TACO AND MIC REUNION AND HOW IT WAS HANDLED

BACKSTORY

now, I feel like we should clear up the timeline first. this scene was, honestly, a lot worse than it probably should've been, but I think we should explain what has happened so far so you have a good idea in case you forgot.

taco's side first:

mic, her closest friend in her life, has recently left, turning a metaphorical knife in her back that was there since the end of s1

she has tried to convince the rest of the contestants to leave - to her knowledge, nobody did

taco has just tried making up with pickle, only to be terribly rebuffed

pickle has disappeared and is unrecoverable

taco has been sitting next to his body, possibly even thinking it was somehow her fault

mic, who she never thought was coming back, just has entered the room

and from mic's side:

she has left taco, someone who she was close with but whom she knew to be toxic and manipulative for however long the show has been taking place

contestants are beginning to disappear. they can't be revived

her current closest friend (by the looks of things), soap, has also disappeared

all the alive contestants are gathering so they can protect each other

baseball and mepad have just said, though subtly, that taco is in the hotel. she's decided to go with them.

she briefs baseball and mepad on what happened (and vice versa), then opens the door to find taco sitting beside her dead friend

so yeah. a lot has happened - keep in mind at this point it hasn't even been a full two days since ii14 in canon. which is, surprisingly enough, not a lot of time to process.

we know mic is, by design, an empathetic person. this does not mean she forgives easily.

we also know taco is, by design, a manipulative mastermind. she has no motivations, due to having no past.

now I'm going to go on a bit of a tangent here.

as someone with a typically dislikable characteristic as their main trait, taco is not one who can gain friends easily. the first thing taco ever did was hide behind a mask, one of immaturity and recklessness. her first ever friend was someone loyal and trusting, who's heart latched on and completely broke when taco was revealed to be someone else

pickles main trait, his loyalty, is one that goes great with manipulativeness until that mask is uncovered - and when it is, hatred and hurt can set in easily.

taco's first friend was one who would instantly leave if she revealed herself. so when she snapped, the bond that had been made despite her cover disappeared too. her first friend was one destined to leave her.

you can probably understand how this feeds into taco having problems with trust. when she saw mic struggling with having any sort of friendship, she understood the feeling. she knew what she could do to pull her strings.

she also knew she shouldn't get attached quickly. anything she did was for the prize, which was, in taco's eyes, rightfully hers. she couldn't get carried away again, as any friend she had she thought would leave, as it was the only type of friendship she had felt.

eventually, taco began to get attached to microphone, and as they spent more and more time together taco felt closer with her than she had anyone else, despite her attempts to stop herself clinging on.

so, when mic left her, she broke again. she thought it impossible for herself to be redeemed, she only hurt and hurt, both herself and others, and the cause of it was the game. after all, there's no point being a mastermind if you have nothing to aim for.

meanwhile, mic has being experiencing this differently.

she could barely ever win challenges, and when she did she gained no recognition from her teammates. everybody she knew hated her from the beginning, from her disabilities (like controlling how loud her voice was), and any help she could be was instantly disregarded.

her first interaction with taco was taco reading out her insecurity back to her. not a solid first encounter. taco was, on the surface, taking advantage of her. it should've been obvious.

key word: should've. mic, however, was so desperate for connection at the time that she only grew more and more attached, ignoring any red flags. taco was slowly getting more kind and considerate of her too rather than just being a behind-the-scenes controller, spurring her to disregard anything she had previously suspected.

knife slowly helped her. he helped her think more about everything going on, his repeated statements and clear hatred of taco making her start to doubt the person who was almost everything she had.

eventually, when the story of taco's old alliance was brought up, she thought there was no way out. that at some point soon, taco would leave her behind and only hurt her more.

so, she took initiative. she left first.

leaving someone you're close to isn't easy, but it clearly had a good impact on mic as in ii16 we see her a lot happier than she was, with a lot more stress off her back and a good friend in soap. but you can tell how she still clings on if you look hard enough. but she can't let herself trust taco again.

they certainly have parallels, at this point. not letting themselves trust the other, a lack of close friendship, struggles with their insecurity.

THE SCENE

so, when you put two people in a room together during a world-threatening situation, apologies have to be a little rushed. but even with this, I still don't think it was written too well.

the first words mic speaks to taco since she turned a dagger in her back are:

"I hear everything, remember?"

I think you can tell a lot from this line. no awkward entrance with the tension that should obviously be necessary for this scene, rather, an intense need to cut to the point. she quickly follows it up, telling taco she knows what happened after she had left.

taco is clearly clinging on. the first full sentence she says in this conversation is trying to reassure mic that she hasn't hurt her more by letting the secret out. mic cuts her off, saying she knows. taco is scared about how much mic knows about her - they aren't working together anymore, so any piece of information she has let out can be turned against her.

when mic sits down, taco moves away. the way mic is talking makes it clear that there is something wrong here. she left taco. taco thinks she hates her, yet mic still talks to her like she had never left.

mic is still acting all buddy-buddy with taco, despite what happened. it's obvious how this makes taco uncomfortable. both her friends have left, and the first time this happened they were so distant and cold to her when she tried to apologise. in taco's eyes, this shouldn't be happening. mic should be distant and cold like pickle was, not still kind and warm.

mic changes the subject when it drifts too close to her departure. it's a sore wound for the both of them, and she's treating taco carefully as they need her on board, not even more distant.

taco definitely feels old connections coming back. you can see in truth or flare how scared she is of the idea of microphone coming and finding her. and yet, in this scene, taco finds herself telling mic what happened between her and pickle, albeit a summarised version.

heck, she even apologises to mic just because taco's moral compass has shifted and mic says that it's the right thing to do. she follows mic, despite only having a one minute conversation on the edge of falling off and cracking again. she spends the whole time opening herself up to mic, apologising, doing anything she can to try and make mic feel better.

this scene, from taco's side, is odd, so, so odd, but sweet.

if viewed from mic, though, it's different.

she never lets her feelings slip during this conversation. not once. sure, she mentions she thought taco would dispose of her, but look into it, is there any emotion behind that line?

she's walking a careful path the whole time, cautious to not fall too far into distance that taco won't come with her, yet not too close, either, so that she won't grow attached again or things won't be too rushed, delayed, or complicated.

she doesn't console taco when she says pickle hates her. rather, she points out taco's mistake, that what she's done is objectively wrong.

she changes the subject again when it gets too close, thinking she's done enough to have taco on board. but one thing here sticks out to me the most about mic:

MIC NEVER SAYS SHE FORGIVES TACO.

mic is a truthful person, who finds it hard to lie. that is a core part of her arc, a core part of her personality, a core part of the reason she left.

she mentions that "you don't say sorry to make it better".

I think though mic will forgive her eventually, the moment is far too soon. they both need a lot more time and in a moment where the lives of everyone they know are literally crumbling before them.

CONCLUSION

yeah so this scene pretty much sucked. there are a few good parts, yes, but there is nothing there. there is tension, I suppose, but it feels forced in, the conversation doesn't feel natural in any way. I'm actually tempted to rewrite it.

taco apologised far too quickly. this I will stand by. mic needs to have more emotion in her dialouge (though to be fair so does taco), I feel like mepad should've had a larger part too. there is so much that's just... missing.

tl;dr: they should've spent more time on this scene. mic didn't even leave two days ago, and when you take that into account along with everything else, nothing is natural.

this took over an hour please fucking help me

[lightlycareless]

I've had this idea for a while ago , maybe you've said something similar but : Y/N piercing Naoya's ear 🤭❤️

Hello!!

Omg I've never thought of this before, I mean, y/n likes how good Naoya's piercings look on him, but helping him get another one? 😏 Now that's interesting.

Either way, here is a little drabble I wrote about that. How I think things would go down.

Warnings: fluff. Naoya is a lil bit of a prick. Mentions of nsfw activities.

Happy reading!!

Naoya's piercings are one of the many things that make him even more charming, undoubtedly.

However, you were already attracted to him, before the hair dye and the piercings, but when he got these two things together… it made you wetter far more intrigued by him.

Especially the piercings.

It's just… one of those things you never thought you'd see from him! Coming from a traditional household and all that.

But you're very glad he went through with them, because he looks very handsome, more than he already was.

And now that the two are finally together, you can happily gush about them to your heart's desire—something Naoya likes very much :)

How you carefully play with his piercings whenever you can, (it's almost relaxing for the two at this point), kiss them, help him clean them, or even choosing what stud would look good on him, and so on and so forth.

You really, really like them. There's no denying that. And with your admiration and care, Naoya eventually concludes you might be willing to pierce him too.

At first you were hesitant, knowing you weren't suitable for such a job; after all, you've never done anything like this before! Nor cared for, really. Often simply accompanying Naoya to designated businesses that employ such services, tend for him post-piercing, happily doing so, and that's about it.

“I don't know, Naoya… what if I hurt you?” You murmur, already set to reject him.

“You could never hurt me, my dove.” he reassures you, and with the soft way he spoke, alongside the loving look on his face… you concede.

For what becomes your biggest regret, no doubt, because while Naoya prepared everything beforehand, down to the smallest details, to make the job easier for both…

His teasing nature is something you'll never manage to escape from, even in moments like this.

“Are—Are you ready Naoya???” You squeak, holding the needle by the upper lobe of his right ear, the location of his new piercing.

“Why are you so nervous?” He chuckles “it's almost as if you're getting pierced”

“Don't mock me” you pout, pushing aside your nerves once more, whatever you could anyways. “... I'm going to do it now, then. Are you sure it doesn't hurt?”

“Positive” he says with a smile, placing his hand over your arm and gently squeezing it, to reassure you. “You'll do fine.”

You swallow.

“Ok” you nod. “I'm going to do it now…. One, two…—”

“Ah! Shit!” Naoya gasps, just when you gently push the needle against his skin, you quickly pull away.

“Oh my God, Naoya! Are you ok?! Does it hurt?!” You fret, eyes darting between his ear and face, a million terrifying, painful thoughts crossing your mind, debating whether to call an ambulance or not!

…

…

Only for those thoughts to immediately cease, emotions shifting towards confusion, and then anger, when he begins to laugh, revealing his reaction to be nothing more than a jest.

“You should've seen your face!” Naoya chuckles, clearly amused by your distress. While you… well, you were not.

“That's not funny, Naoya! I thought I hurt you!” You cry, smacking him on the arm. “Don't do that again!”

“Ah, it was just a joke, my love!” He laughs, catching your hand right before you can hit him again and placing a kiss on the knuckles. Naoya then relaxed back in place. “I promise I won't do it again.”

“... You better” you warn, ready to pierce him once and for all…

Unless he decided to irk out more of your reactions, shrieking when you do as little as place the needle in place, the slightest of pressure, or just about anything, and all the subsequent attempts.

So, naturally fed up and irritated by the nth time, you've decided to drop the matter all together and retreat, Naoya following you soon after .

“I'm just kidding, mochi! No need to get all worked up like that” he chuckles.

“I thought I was hurting you for real, Naoya!” You respond.

“I told you, you could never—”

“Well then, could you at least consider for a minute that I don't like seeing you in pain??” you breathe. “What if something happens and I don't take it seriously because you're always fooling around?!”

Silence, alongside guilt settling in Naoya's heart.

“I got really worried, you know that?” you add, he sighs.

Of course he knew that. Naoya must've, considering this was your first time doing something like this, and probably the last too thanks to his efforts.

But it wasn't intentional. At least not in the way he was acting.

Naoya thought that by reacting in such a careless way, he'd be able to convince you it wasn't that serious, just something that needed to be approached with care, and not as a high-risk surgery.

Though he greatly miscalculated, your reaction reminding him that your feelings for him were vastly greater than he anticipated, both moving him, and making him feel like the biggest douche in the world.

“I'm sorry” Naoya apologizes softly. “I was only trying to brighten the mood.”

“You have a funny way of doing that.” You murmur. “... I don't want to do it anymore.”

“I know.” Naoya smiles, taking a step closer to wrap his arms around you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “We'll just forget about this and move on.”

“But I still want you to get the piercing done” you say, looking up to him. You'd hate to be the reason he stops his plans altogether.

“I'll just schedule it another day” he responds with a smirk. “I still expect you to nurse me, though”

“...I always do.” you pout, leaning into his chest and embracing him back. “Pervert”

“Who's talking about that, Y/N?” Your boyfriend laughs. “Not only are you a fretting little thing, but also, a hugely perverted one…”

“You know exactly what you were talking about” you retorted. “...it's not like we do that every single time you get a new piercing. Or just because we feel like it…”

“Then I guess I'll just have to keep getting new ones” he shrugs, you shake your head.

“No! Not that many either!” You cry. “You look… very good with the ones you have right now… not too much, nor too little, just right.”

Naoya's heart skips a beat, always a victim to the unwitting way your compliments make him nothing but putty.

Amongst other things.

“Can't wait for you to see where I'm getting my next piercing, then.”

“It’s going to look really good! Your right ear was kind of lonely compared to the left” you say, reaching for his ear. “I'm really excited for it too”

“I was talking about something a bit more… discreet.” he smiles.

And a few seconds of silence, eventually catching up on his implication, you blush.

So... I genuinely think Y/N would say no to that hahaha I looked into it (a little) just to see how everything happens and it made me think: oof, too much. Y/N is surely freaking out.

Naoya would love it though, if he could get everything done with Y/N, it would be a dream. A perverted one. Sigh. How do they even accomplish anything? A mystery.

Anyways, I hope you liked this!!! Thank you so much for you patience and sharing this with me!!! 🥺💕 I'm slowly working through all the requests... Which I'm eternally grateful for 🥺❤️❤️❤️ goshahdkaishdoaka you don't know how flattered I am to be in your consideration 😭❤️

Take care, and hope to see you soon!!

[dippindotsdio]

#1 Crush

Here's the full version of Pink in the Night. I also changed up bits from the little part I posted a while ago so don't be confused because it's not word for word anymore, enjoy!

Warnings: possessive & obsessive behavior, typical yan stuff Word count: 3.6k Gn reader, sfw

[More under the cut]

You met Josuke at a young age, your mother and Tomoko were very close friends so it was only a matter of time before you two were introduced to one another. You and Josuke grew close rather quickly and ever since then you've been best friends (matter of fact he's been your only friend for a majority of your life.) He's the only person who seems to get you in this vast world.

As you two grew older, he began wanting to be at your side more and more. He would spend the night often during the summer, or you'd spend the night at Tomoko's although you were still scared to go to another's house then. He didn't mind though of course.

Whenever you were struggling with homework, he'd be there happy to help and explain as much as he could. When you woke up terrified because of an awful nightmare and woke him up out of fear, he'd be ready to reassure you that everything was going to be okay then help you go back go sleep. And on the days where you felt down and misunderstood by others around you, he'd be there and listen to you. He would always be there for you.

You were very appreciative of how patient he was with you, even as you two grew to be highschoolers. He seemed to be the only person who really wanted to understand you. Others were often too pushy with you, overly critical, or never bothered to understand why you didn't like certain things or acted certain ways. It was nice to know that not everyone wanted to fix you.

Whenever you had asked why he was so attached to you out of all people, he'd always respond with the thought that you were fun and your sense of self was unique, as well as your view of the world. He thought you were absolutely perfect as you were. So much so that he often had a look of pure adoration in his eyes when it came to you and it made your heart swell with unknown feelings whenever you happened to notice.

♡

At this point Josuke hadn't realised he developed a "little" crush on you yet. He just knew that the friendship you shared was something special, something irreplaceable. It was a bond he'd do anything to keep. You two shared so many memories after all. All of your birthday parties were spent with one another, many of the holidays you'd see him, and of course at school you'd be together. You two were inseparable!

During these times you also came to the conclusion that you really didn't need anyone else. Josuke was like your soulmate. He liked you and you liked him. You trusted him more than anyone else in the world. It'd be hard for someone else to gain your trust or develop such a deep bond with you as he did. No one could ever compare.

💕

Some days you'd miss school for reasons that were mostly out of your control. At first Josuke didn't mind because he knew he'd be able to see you the next day, but he was so lonely without your company. He could only ignore the feeling that was building up in his chest and restricting his breathing ever so slightly for so long.

During junior year he grew to hate those days. Why would you leave me? It was like he couldn't breathe properly when you weren't around. But he wasn't alone of course, people liked him and he had more acquaintances than he'd like, but none of them were you. His obsessive nature thrived and all he could do was think about you. He spent his time in class daydreaming about coddling you and how he should've been at your house playing games with you and what not. Of course you missed him plenty too, but it was no where near what he was feeling. Everything you felt for him was no where near what he felt for you.

This is also the year he begins to get more touchy. He starts holding your hands more, having his arm around your shoulder, embracing you, touching your face, brushing your hair... Whenever you two worked on homework together and you got everything right, he'd give you little side hugs. After being so affectionate for some time he began to realize that his feelings for you were more than just friendly. Why it took him so long, no one knows!

As for you, his constant presence never really bothered you, you liked the attention he gave you. You would even say you actively seeked it at times. Sometimes he was overwhelming though, mostly when he praised you over simple things. It felt belittling but you'd never voice how you felt about it. Other than that you thought it was nice...he was nice. Your mother often teased you two about when you were going to get together which made you flustered. Josuke just looked at you with those lovesick eyes of his and a saccharine smile as you stumbled over your words.

💕

Now that you two were old enough to go out on your own, that meant Josuke could take you to the rollerskating rink. It was something he wanted to do for a while and it quickly became one of your favorite ways to spend time together! He loved watching you skate around and occasionally pull him towards you so you two can skate along together. He watched a couple videos in advance and tried out some of the tricks, only successfully pulling off a few and the others leaving both of you a laughing mess.

Another spot you two would spend the day at was the park, it was a good place to find some peace from the world. Sitting on a bench with a tall tree shading you was such a simple activity but being there with him made you feel like nothing could ever go wrong in your life. The sounds nature provided you and Josuke's warmth was all it took to ease your mind.

💕

During your senior year you started receiving letters. First, you found them in your locker, then a handful later they started appearing in your backpack...which was concerning. They were really sweet though!

- "Hi, I just wanted to let you know...I think you're so cute!"

You had not a single clue who they could be from. You rarely interacted with your classmates, with the few exceptions of working with someone other than Josuke on a group project and other moments of small talk with peers. Either way you didn't pay much mind to them, so why would anyone pay attention to you? It's definitely a prank by another student, you had thought.

You asked Josuke about who they could be from but all he answered with was "probably a secret admirer". You laughed at him and he simply looked at you with a familiar fondness in his eyes. You brushed off his strange demeanor and decided to move onto a different topic of discussion.

You wondered if they could've been from Josuke himself for a brief moment, but no way...the handwriting and choice of words was pretty different. And he'd probably be upfront about his feelings, right? Nonetheless you began ignoring the letters and only read them whenever they were decorated prettily.

- "every little thing i do you're on my mind...the way i feel lately is driving me crazy.."

- "i can't get over you i think about you all the time"

Over time you noticed the contents were becoming more and more...odd, to say the least. This person would go on about certain things you did or how much they loved you. They'd write way too much about your habits and how cute they found them. You laughed at some of them, some prank this was! Yes, it was definitely a prank, you kept telling yourself, trying to convince yourself no one was actually being a creep towards you. At least your senior year was coming to an end and those letters would stop.

...

Well that was what you thought. You'd graduated and been out of highschool for a few months now and still, those letters managed to show up. They were less frequent, but getting more uncomfortable.

"I wish I could be around you all the time. I love you so much. I love everything about you, the way you talk, smell, fix your hair, and your eyes, your eyes are so pretty. I want them to look at me for the rest of time. You're so pretty, I want you so bad, I want you all for myself. It's not fair... I hope you accept my feelings one day, [y/n]. I think I'd die if I couldn't have you." It was written messily with words like "love" and "you" written darker than the rest.

You were beginning to worry, obviously this person was someone who knew your schedule and was probably close to you. Josuke kept reassuring you it was nothing but when you began being refusing to leave the house and holed yourself up in your room out of paranoia, he offered to get rid of whoever was sending those letters. It should've been so obvious...but you trusted him, the sweet and thoughtful Josuke who you spent most of your days with wouldn't be this weird to you. You really hoped it wasn't..

- "i just wanna be yours"

Josuke didn't mean to freak you out as much as he did, he just wanted to know what your reaction could be to his unfiltered feelings for you. It made him a little disheartened to know you felt so uncomfortable but he understood that receiving those kinds of words from a stranger would be concerning. He could only hope that you would accept all of him when the time finally came.

💌

You didn't know how, and he wouldn't elaborate either, but the letters did stop. You hugged him tightly with your head resting on his shoulder as you thanked him and told him you were forever grateful. His body tensed up and his eyes widened but quickly he returned the hug, relaxing in your arms. A delusional smile formed on his lips and a sweet warmth spread across his face. He held onto you with possessive hands, his grip ever so slowly getting tighter and tighter until you spoke once more.

"I don't know what I'd do without you." You mumbled.

Were you trying to kill him? His heart skipped a beat and time seemed to stop as you kept him encased in your arms. You had no idea what those words were doing to him, his mind was racing with utterly delusional thoughts of you. Thoughts of how much he knew you needed him now, how he'd do anything to make you happy, to protect you, keep you safe, and make you stay by his side for the rest of your life. He'd do it all with a lovesick smile on his face and pure obsession swirling in his violet eyes.

💜

With the help of each of your moms and having saved up for months, you two were eventually able to move into a small but cozy apartment together and lived relatively peaceful lives. Well aside from Josuke beginning to show unmistakable signs of his possessive behavior towards you.

Since you two worked separate jobs he couldn't be around you nearly as much as he wanted to (even though you still spent a good chunk of time together.) He was always thinking about you. Wondering if you were okay, if anyone was getting close to you, talking to you, trying to take you away from him, or god forbid if anyone other than him was touching you. It drove him insane being away from you for more than a few hours, it was a miracle he could still work well with how much you were on his mind.

He'd hug you for a few minutes after especially long days and asked you how your day was while resting his head on your shoulder. You of course always indulged him which put the thoughts of you leaving him at ease. Oh how he loved having you in his arms... This was where you belonged, with him, in his arms, and safe from the world. He was so warm and so strong, he always made you feel nice...and it would drive him even more mad if you ever told him that.

💜

He began thinking that you liked him back romantically because of how much you indulged in his behavior. He was never clear about his feelings with you, but he knew that you two were blurring the lines between a platonic and romantic relationship for a while now. It didn't help that you weren't clear about how you felt either, so of course he thought you liked him back! You must've been too shy to say anything, how cute.

Truthfully though, you weren't completely sure as to how you felt about him. Yes, you loved and cared about him more than anyone else in your life and he was basically all you knew at this point...your face would still heat up from all the affection and attention he gave you, even after so many years. Really there was no reason for you not to be romantically interested in him. So you left it at that, unsure but you wouldn't mind if he wanted to begin officially dating.

💜

After a couple months Josuke grew tired and decided if he couldn't see you outside the house, then nobody could. He eventually convinced you to work from home, saying things like, "Y'know if I'm not there I can't protect you." And "Don't you remember how weird people can be?" For a moment you thought that maybe Josuke was being overprotective, you were an adult now, you could take care of youself. But another part of you thought he was right... You trusted him with everything in your heart, he knew you better than anyone else, he was just looking out for you.

He began feeling more at ease knowing that you were 98% safer now since you were home when he wasn't with you. He still felt like he couldn't breathe properly without you in the same room as him, but it was better than anyone else enjoying your presence.

💜

As a way to prevent you from growing bored of staying home for so long, he made sure you two went out to other places (mostly the park) when there was time. It was nice to know that even as an adult the park still gave you a sense of normalcy (something you were quickly losing while living with Josuke.) Even if he was quickly falling into the depths of his obsession, he was still so thoughtful when it came to you.

Something about walking the familiar path to your little spot was so nice. No matter how hectic life got, as long as you were able to walk along it with Josuke by your side, you'd always feel like everything would be okay.

"I've always loved being here, y'know? I feel like this is my other home as stupid as it may sound." You started as you stared out into the lightly clouded sky underneath a shaded bench. Josuke turned to you with a hint of surprise in his eyes.

"It's not stupid, but I didn't know you liked it here so much. I kinda thought you'd get tired of it by now." He admitted. Sometimes you'd have a blank look on your face and it made him overthink, but really you were content, maybe even your happiest.

You let out a small laugh, "I don't think I'd ever get tired. It's too pretty here! The clouds always make me so happy...sometimes I wish we could be here all the time." A smile crept up to your lips and you glanced over to him. He met your eyes with everlasting adoration and reached out to place a hand on yours. You interlaced fingers and promptly looked away as your smile grew.

"You make being here so much nicer... You don't talk too much or talk too little and you know how to appreciate silence. I'm so glad I get to spend all this time with you, Josuke. I feel like...like this is how it was always meant to be. Just you and me, against the world!" You laughed and gave his hand a little squeeze, trying to hide the embarrassment you felt from sharing the last thought.

Josuke sat there looking at you, trying so hard to keep everything contained. You basically confessed to him, didn't you??? How could you say that and not expect him to think that you also loved him? This was it. This was the moment that made him realise it's been long enough for him to let you know how he really felt.

He simply agreed with you, that this was all fate and your conversation moved elsewhere. Your park date ended an hour or so later after you two decided to head back home and end the day with a movie night.

💜

For the rest of the day, your words plagued Josuke's mind. If he didn't confess soon, his heart would crack, and like a breaking dam all his love would drown you. He was worried about scaring you away but he knew deep down you'd stay by his side, especially after what you had said earlier.

So that night he planned to give you his confession, and with it his heart, whether you wanted it or not.

💗

You were about to go to bed after having finished the movie when Josuke grabbed your hand to stop you. You turned back and were about to question him but the look in his eyes kept you quiet.

"I'm in love with you, I think I've loved you ever since we were kids but only realized it in highschool...but these feelings- these feelings, they've just kept growing and growing and growing all this time" He reached for your other hand and delicately intertwined your fingers with his. "I can't take it anymore, the longer I keep all this inside me, the more I feel like I'll go crazy. All I can ever think about is you and how much you mean to me and how I need to be with you all the time." His breathing grew unsteady and you could hear the desperation climbing up his throat. "I want you to be mine...and I wanna be yours." He spoke softly but there was an unmistakable seriousness in his tone. He fixed his eyes on yours as he poured his heart out to you. It felt like he was staring into your very soul and you got a taste of the overwhelming, sickly sweet feelings he held for you. His eyes were so intense and darker than normal, you felt like the longer you gazed into them you'd begin to drown in all that love.

His confession made your heart flutter, hell it even made the skin on your face burn up like crazy. You never expected him to say something so....endearing? You were almost in shock, but of course the guy who doesn't want you spending time alone with anyone but him is in love with you.

You'd been friends this long and you two have already been crossing the boundaries of a normal friendship, why not accept his feelings? And you already told yourself if he ever said anything that you'd go with it, so that's what you did.

"I love you too."

His eyes lit up with something unrecognizable and he pulled you into a tight hug, making your body freeze at the sudden intense contact.

"I'm so happy. To finally hear you say it back... I love you so much." he mumbled into your shoulder. "I love you more than you could ever know, [y/n]."

All you could do was hug him back and try to contain a large smile but ultimately fail. You had a feeling this wasn't normal. You've been aware that the things he'd done may not have been completely normal for a while now, but you couldn't help but love his unhealthy feelings for you. It almost made you feel guilty.

You never understood why you were the one he loved so deeply, even after he explained, but you couldn't care when his arms always wrapped around you so lovingly. He made you feel so many things you've never experienced before and you loved it. The way he seemed to remember every single thing about you, got you the most thoughtful gifts, and how every time he touched you it was so sweet and gentle. All the heartwarming little things he'd say to you, and only you, they gave you butterflies and made your heart swell so much. He gave you all the attention no one else could ever give to you, and you were possibly obsessed with it as much as he was obsessed with you...

Josuke finally let you go after what felt like forever but gave you a look like he still had something he wanted. He broke eye contact and his lips turn up into an awkward smile, your expression turning to one of slight confusion.

"You're so cute, y'know? Sometimes when I look at you, and you give me that weird look, I just wanna kiss every inch of your face and see that pretty smile of yours." Your eyes widened and you felt your heart bloom further.

"You're too much, Josuke. I don't know if I can handle you being so...uh" You looked away to hide your growing smile but it didn't do much. He was absolutely ecstatic to see he had such an effect on you, seeing you smile so widely was all he ever needed.

"You are so cute."

--- I've reread this so many times to ensure it was as perfect as I could make it but I always thought there could be something worded better each time and at that rate I never would've posted this. I feel like this is kinda all over the place and I apologize if the writing is awkward at some points, this went on a lot longer than I intended. Yan josuke is so fun to write though. Also sorry for the strange/abrupt end, I had no idea how to end it.