#but it was nice to visit my old self again. its amazing how many things can be forgotten so quickly.

[a-mere-shell]

i found all my old fanfics from 2009 when i was in junior high. and yeah, they were all cringey and bad, but i think i really learned a lot about who i was at the time, and it was introspective and good, mainly

[zishu-arts]

1. What's ur fav avm ep? Or generally ava ep

2. What's ur fav short?

3. And favorite character? Why is that your favorite character?

4. Do u kin anyone? Why?

5. What are your thoughts on King Orange? Personally, I do love the character but I wanna see some controversy. He was forgiven too easily. Do you think that he's affected by immense guilt of his actions? Pls go in detail as much as you wish

6. What are your favorite (hc or not) relationships? Doesn't need to be romantic. Do you have thoughts on relationships between characters that haven't interacted? Or some hc on characters that did (example: I love the hc on Purple and Red hanging out so often that Red goes to visit Purple for advice on PRANKS out of all things)

If I think of something more, I'll send it through!!

1). i dont think i can pick a favorite since there's so many but i love rewatching Lush Caves, Ultimate Minecart Race, The Chef, The Ultimate Weapon (and honestly just the entire KO arc lmfao). For AVA its gotta be The Showdown it's just SOOO GOOD the animation, the concepts, the plot, ahhhh

2). hard once again, but Music Lesson is so goddamn funny

3). THE DARK LORD THE DARK LORD THE DARK LORD (red is my second favorite tho). okay so, honestly it's just the amount of potential and trauma i could give him. i love his character and lore like, the idea of the Mission Code. what does it mean that you've been created for the sole purpose to destroy, and what does it mean that the person you're made to destory become your best friend? like, the existance of that code brings up so much potential and you could literally take it in so many ways. and like, just the story of cho and dark being two people who were coded for a purpose and run away. what...happens to that purpose? what are you supposed to do now? it's very "what am i if not a weapon?" "yourself. isn't that a wonderful person to be?" (i also dont remember where this quote is from). and also, i look at this little bastard and i think ah yes, he is a goddamn maniac. absolutely insane. i can make him as unhinged as possible and i think that's amazing.

i also think it's great that it's so easy for me to just do whatever i want with him like he's some dress up doll. i've got a genderbent version of him. i've got him with ADHD. i've got him with autism. i've got him trans. he's depressd. he has anxiety. he's in love. there's no saving him.

i also like that like. he's dead. he might not be dead. who fucking knows? and he's such an interesting character, is he evil, is he nice, does he care, what does he like? i want to know everything about him and i want to squish him like a little ball

(i alos like that he's very easy to self project into)

4). hmmmm honestly? i only ever kinned like one character (yuki from horimiya) so im not too familiar with actually kinning. if i had to pick, probably red, mostly cause i see him as a hyper possibly ADHD guy who's always running head first into situations without a thought and think damn he's jus tlike me fr

5). KO/MANGO TALK LETS GO !! you're def right, he was forigven too soon, but i like to think or hope that they at least had a bit of bonding. okay well first off i want to start off with: i see a lot of content where we view mango as like around 20 years old which i want to immedately have on the table: what do you mean 20 years old. he's got a goddamn kid that seems to be maybe 8-10, he's got to be at least reaching 40 by the time we actually see him in AVM. and no, 40 is not too old, they can still do backflips and fight ppl (as long as mango maintained a healthy lifestyle with daily exercise, healthy diet, and good sleep).

i love the fact that he went evil because he lost his son, and that he got lost in his anger and started hurting everyone around him. although i do think his and purple's relationship could do with A LOTT of work. their trust was broken over and over again (mostly on purple's end) and im not sure mango particularily remembers how to treat a child well. and did mango ever like,,,yk,,,properly grieve for his son? for all we know, he went home the same day he lost gold, punched his wall a lot, then went straight to working on the staff. now that he doesn't have that drive anymore, i think that's all going to catch up to him. he really needs to properly grieve and mourn and recover before he goes about doing anything else.

he can, in fact however, be a good person/father as long as he's got that under the belt. (which you could def see that he was pretty swag when he still had gold). i personally see him as a raspy and gruff guy so he's also a man of very few words. that also means he probably has a buttload of communcation issues that is gonna affect his relationship with other people. he has got A LOT to work on

i also want to mention how i don't particulary enjoy the "overprotective father that trails their child everywhere". i don't think a lot of people view mano this way either, but i just want it on the table that even though mango would definitely be protective of purple, he won't be weird about it

6). ohhhh okay okay if you've read my fics you know i am in love with the "siblings victim & dark" as well as "siblings chosen and second". i feel like vic and dark are both insane and enable the worst, unhinged parts of each other. and then chosen and second are pretty much polar opposites with "doesn't say a word + yapper"

i also love it when CC treat red as like the youngest hyper sibling bc he really does give off that energy. also I AGREE WITH YOU purple and red together were so cute it was so unexpected but i love that

i also really really really want to see dark and purple interact with each other. mostly because they're probably the two most least likely characters to ever see each other. but i like the idea of dark terrorizing purple and it works because purple the whole time is like 'holy fuck this is that terrorist holy fuck shit oml'

i also want to see purple and mango interact with alan. im not sure if they ever did? but id like to imagine one day alan logs onto his computer and sees these two random sticks on his screen and is like who the fuck are you guys

(my guy desperately needs a VPN)

i ADORE blue + yellow. both in a platonic and romantic sense. they're like skater girl + nerd girl to me. they're so goddamn adorable and i'm very obsessed with seeing them. they hold hands. they're polar opposites. they're always together. they're the duo that if you just see one of them it seems wrong. if one of them is missing, you automatically ask the other one where they are, because they no doubt would know. gods they're so entwined with each other

thanks for the ask !!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls Extra 1

- ao3 -

Lan Xichen spent a lot of time learning his family’s rules.

They were important to his uncle, who raised him, and that meant that they were important to him. They were his heritage and his birthright, and anyway he loved his uncle and it made him happy which was good enough for Lan Xichen, but that didn’t make learning them easy or anything. Each rule had to be learned both by itself and in context with others; it wasn’t as simple as memorizing a list and calling it done. You had to learn them and know them and then live up to them to the best of your ability, and that was the work of a lifetime – which Lan Xichen, now six years old, had been informed was an awful long time.

Moreover, though his uncle had never said so, Lan Xichen had heard from the other people in the sect that learning the rules was important because following the rules would make sure he didn’t turn out like his father, who had let down so many people in their sect. Many of the elders said things like that when his uncle wasn’t around, though his uncle never did – his uncle spoke well of their father, although in abstract tones, but sometimes he looked sad about it, too, and therefore Lan Xichen was determined to listen and learn the rules well so that he would never disappoint his uncle the way his father had.

Of course, there were other advantages to learning the rules.

The commentary, for instance.

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

1

Talking behind other people's backs is prohibited.

“Unless it’s really funny,” Lan Yueheng said, and – as always – seemed not to notice the way Lan Xichen’s uncle glared at him. “Oooh, actually, let me give you an example, I just heard the best story –”

-

“If you don’t understand those around you, you will be at their mercy, rather than they at yours,” Wen Ruohan said, perfectly poised and with a sharp smirk, just the way he always was unless he happened to be talking to Lan Xichen’s uncle. “How better to learn to understand people than to know what others say about them when they are not around?” His smirk widened. “Look at what people say about me.”

-

“What are you supposed to do if you don’t?” Lao Nie asked, grinning wickedly. “Say mean things about them in front of their faces instead? I can do that!”

-

“I mean, if it’s news, it’s not gossip, right?” Cangse Sanren said, tapping her cheek while pretending to be thoughtful as if it would hide her great big smile. “I’m sure that’s how I learned it, and I was a very good student – no, no, don’t listen to what your uncle says!”

-

“Well, I wish my mother would do less of it,” Wen Xu said, rolling his eyes. He’d come along to visit with his father again the way he always did – he was always tagging along with his father, really, and his father indulged him more often than he probably should, according to both sects’ elders. Not that Wen Ruohan listened to anyone but Lan Xichen’s uncle. “Sometimes I think that’s all she does! It’s boring!”

-

“If you mean what you say and say what you mean, then your friends will never doubt you whether you are in front of them or not,” Nie Mingjue said, then frowned. “I mean, I think?”

-

“Listen to A-Jue,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said when Lan Xichen reported on the discussions, throwing up his hands in disgust. “He’s the only one of the lot of them worth anything.”

“It’s his mother’s contribution,” Lao Nie opined.

“It’s certainly not yours,” Wen Ruohan said. “Anyway, what was wrong with A-Xu’s answer? It was accurate.”

“It has nothing to do with the rule!”

“That’s because I’ve already mastered it years ago,” Wen Xu said cheerfully. Surprisingly cheerfully, given that Nie Mingjue was sitting on him again; maybe he’d gotten used to Nie Mingjue always winning.

Lan Xichen’s uncle rubbed his forehead. “A-Xu, if you really want to go copy the rules on humility a few more times, you don’t have to wait for me to instruct you to do so –”

“He’s right, though,” Cangse Sanren cackled from her husband’s lap. “Madame Wen is an amazing source of gossip, but it does get a bit boring sometimes. You can’t punish him for being right!”

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

2

Do not succumb to rage.

“Unless there’s a very good reason,” Lao Nie said, picking Lan Xichen up in one arm as if he weighed as little as a feather, and Nie Mingjue in the other just as easily, even though he was much bigger. “In the world there are many injustices, and it is your duty to fight against them with everything that you have – if you are wholly above the feeling of rage, then you have forgotten your empathy, and soon will follow the crooked path into indifference.”

-

“The issue is succumbing to rage,” Wen Ruohan said. “You can be angry, or even furious, but you should always maintain your self-control. Once you’ve mastered yourself, you can master others.”

-

“He means get revenge,” Wen Xu said knowledgably. “You get angry, then you get even.”

-

“Oh, rage?” Cangse Sanren asked, rolling up her sleeves. “Well, as it happens, I’m going to go have a chat with your mother, I’ll give you a good demonstration of –”

“You are doing no such thing,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said, exasperated. “Get back here.”

-

“It’s a waste of time,” Lan Yueheng said. “Getting angry takes time and energy. Why not be happy instead?” He thought about it. “Well, I mean, sometimes cursing a little bit when something goes wrong is nice. Even the calmest concoction needs to blow off steam sometimes to retain its equilibrium!”

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

3

Do not disrespect your elders.

“And I,” Wen Ruohan said, looking positively gleeful, “am the eldest.”

“Don’t listen to him,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said at once. “Xichen, you hear me? Don’t listen to him.”

-

“There’s a difference between disrespect and disobedience,” Cangse Sanren said. “Being old doesn’t mean being right, it means that there’s a greater probability that they’ve encountered something in their lifetime that will give them an insight you lack. You should honor and respect their insight, but always make your own decisions in the end.”

-

“I mean, you could always listen to me, instead,” Lao Nie said. “I’m your elder too, aren’t I?”

-

“Don’t listen to either Uncle Wen or my father,” Nie Mingjue said, looking long-suffering. “They both like to play tricks.”

-

“Wait,” Lan Yueheng said. “I’m an elder? Since when? That’s a terrible idea!”

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

4

Do not take advantage of your position to oppress others.

“Don’t listen to Wen Ruohan,” Cangse Sanren said.

-

“Don’t listen to Sect Leader Wen,” Lan Yueheng said.

-

“Definitely do not listen to Hanhan,” Lao Nie said. “At all. In any way.”

-

“Probably best not to listen to A-Xu’s dad,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced over apologetically.

“No, no, you’re right,” Wen Xu said, nodding furiously. “He’s kind of awful about these sorts of things.”

-

“They’re all being absolutely ridiculous,” Wen Ruohan said. “I’m perfectly reliable on such matters. After all, what’s the point of working so hard to obtain and maintain power if you don’t oppress those that deserve it? If you don’t take advantage, who will?”

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

5

Do not make assumptions about others.

“I used to assume that Cangse Sanren was  a normal human being,” Lan Yueheng said. “Goes to show what I know, right?”

-

“I used to assume that Wen Ruohan was a perfectly normal self-absorbed murderer that would keep his greedy hands to his own people,” Cangse Sanren said, sounding irritable. “And not have perfectly ordinary rogue cultivators followed around by complete weirdos because he’s secretly worried about them like a mother hen!”

-

“I used to assume that people would be grateful when someone rescued them and their husband from near certain death,” Wen Ruohan said.

-

“I used to assume that the funniest thing in the world was watching Hanhan argue with your uncle,” Lao Nie said, chin on his hands. “Little did I know that adding Cangse Sanren to the mix made it even funnier.”

-

“Grown-ups are stupid sometimes,” Wen Xu said. “That’s why you have to verify everything they say for yourself.”

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

6

Embrace the entirety of the world.

“By being righteous,” Nie Mingjue said.

-

“By taking it all over, as far as I can tell from my father,” Wen Xu said.

-

“Depends on what you define as the world, doesn’t it?” Lao Nie said.

-

“Be ambitious,” Wen Ruohan said. “Define it broadly.”

-

“I mean, I don’t think your arms are quite long enough yet, the world’s pretty big,” Lan Yueheng said. “But I pick you up and swing you around, maybe they’ll stretch a little. Want to try?”

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

7

Do not associate with evil.

“I mean, it’s true, but you have to think carefully about what you categorize as evil,” Lao Nie said. “Just being a man-eating nation-destroying inhuman amoral nine-tailed fox isn’t automatically enough to qualify, right?”

-

“That’s, uh, a really weirdly specific example,” Lan Yueheng said. “I feel like at least three of the things on that list probably rise to the level of evil? Or have I missed something?”

-

“Lao Nie said – oh no, not again,” Wen Ruohan said, and patted Lan Xichen on the head before he stalked out the door. “I’m the only evil you should associate with, you hear me?”

-

“I bet she’s got teeth in interesting places,” Cangse Sanren said. “I’ve got to meet her…hmm? Evil? Does that really matter? It’s going to be funny.”

-

“She’s not evil,” Nie Mingjue said. “She’s pretty nice, actually. She calls me ‘meatball’ and ‘pork bun’ and says I’m so cute that she wants to eat me right up.”

-

“I’m pretty sure she means it literally,” Wen Xu said. “Gear up, Xichen! We’ve got to go save Mingjue!”

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

8

Do not tell lies.

“People don’t believe the truth, so why not tell it?” Cangse Sanren said.

-

“Using the truth makes your misdirections more believable and your critiques more devastating,” Wen Ruohan said.

-

“Why would you even want to lie?” Nie Mingjue asked, puzzled.

-

“There’s a difference between not telling lies and not having the slightest bit of tact,” Lao Nie said, rubbing his face. “Maybe you can help A-Jue figure that out.”

-

“Silence is always a good alternative when you don’t want to admit to stuff you’ve done that maybe, just maybe, might annoy some people,” Lan Yueheng said, looking over his collapsed laboratory with a wince. “Not that I’d know anything about that, of course.”

-

“Telling a lie will only get you into more trouble later when they figure it out,” Wen Xu said. “Because then they’re angry at you for what you did and for lying about it. It’s just not worth it!”

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

9

Do not disregard the rules.

“Unless they’re really stupid,” Lao Nie said.

-

“I mean,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose. “As a general rule, yes. But it’s different if following the rules would permit injustice to happen, that’s for sure.”

-

“It’s a matter of picking what rule is the relevant one,” Wen Ruohan said. “Be thoughtful, and you can have the moral high ground in any situation…your uncle is irritatingly good at that.”

-

“You’ve got to know what the rule is before you break it,” Wen Xu said. “That way you can decide if it’s worth the cost of breaking it or not.”

-

“If there’s any you think are wrong, you should say something,” Lan Yueheng said. “The rules are a gift handed down from our ancestors and ought to be respected, but each of us has a duty to put in our own thoughts as well – our contribution to the next generation down. Anyway, your uncle will probably be able to put together a reasonable argument as to why changing the rule is appropriate and truer to our sect’s principles than the version carved on the wall. He’s good at that!”

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

10

“I want the rules to be a foundation under your feet,” Lan Xichen’s uncle said. “They should give you confidence in your actions and pride in your family and sect; they should not feel like they are binding you. If they are, you’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”

Maybe if it was just Lan Xichen and his uncle, the two of them and maybe also little baby Lan Wangji and the rather unreliable Lan Yueheng and the even more unreliable Lao Nie, Lan Xichen would immediately and unhesitatingly agree, and then never say anything anyway no matter what he felt. He loved his uncle so much, and every one in a while his uncle seemed so sad; he couldn’t bear to be the one to add more pain and burden to his uncle’s shoulders, already weighed down with the expectations of the sect that should have been his father’s responsibility and would one day be Lan Xichen’s.

But it wasn’t just them, and Lan Xichen frowned a little, really thinking about it. “Maybe,” he said after a while. “Or maybe I’d tell Uncle Wen about it, and then he’d find a way to fix it, or to tell you about it in a way that didn’t make you sad. Does that work, too?”

His uncle looked amused.

“Yes,” he said. “That works. Just remember –”

“Don’t listen to him about ‘oppressing others’?”

“Exactly.”

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Five)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: swearing, sexual tension (?) panic attack, miscommunication, fingering ( female receiving)

Notes: here’s ch5! Hope you guys like this chapter. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat about the stories!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni @getmemyfries @helenazbmrskai @justinetingball @jpeachytaev @marplest @calling-dips-on-j-hope

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous --- Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The silky robe is a deep burgundy and it looks divine draped over your skin…Taehyung watches as you stand between his spread legs and the silky material begins to slowly slip off your shoulders. He can’t help but gulp when the robe falls down your arms and your matching lingerie set is finally exposed. The material that covers your breasts is lace, he can see your hardening buds and he sighs out in satisfaction… the rest of the lingerie top is sheer and flowy. He only observes as the robe finally falls to the floor and you step closer to him, bending down giving him the most immaculate view of your cleavage…god, he can’t wait to have your tits in his large hands. He is a man of self-control though. He just wants to watch you for a while before he even touches you, which ultimately drives you crazy.

You finally begin to crawl into his lap, settling over his bulge. He leans away from you, his head hitting the cushion of the sofa when you continue to bend forward until your lips are on his neck. Taehyung smirks and releases breath after breath when he feels your tongue run up his throat.

“Taehyung…” you whisper, “Taehyung, what are you thinking about?”

“Taehyung what are you thinking about? Hello?”

“Taehyung? Earth to Tae?” You continue to wave your hand in front of his face. You both are sitting on the living room couch watching a Disney movie when Taehyung obviously stopped paying attention. The boy is completely zoned out.

“Tae?”

“Huh? What?” his eyes zone back in and he’s whipping his head in your direction. “What?”

“I asked what you were thinking about, you really zoned out there.” You giggle. Taehyung’s eyes skim over your body, you’re wearing a t shirt and some shorts…definitely not the lingerie set he was just imagining you in. Yet somehow you still look sexy and it’s driving him nuts.

“Oh nothing.” Taehyung grins, feeling himself grow warmer at the memory of his imagination.

“Movie night is boring you, huh?” you steal the blanket from Taehyung’s lap and wrap it around yourself. “We can play a game instead? Or maybe, hear me out, just maybe, you can show me that song you’ve been working on.” You eye him, waiting for his reaction.

“It’s not ready.” Taehyung pouts, “I promise I’ll show you when it’s ready. I’m just stuck.”

“Maybe I could help? You never know.”

“y/n…” he whines, “Just wait.” Then he’s scooting a little closer to you, “Patience isn’t really something you’re good at, huh?” he teases then his voice goes lower, “I’ll have to teach you.”

“Fine, fine. I can be patient.” You roll your eyes at him, you unwrap the blanket from yourself and put it out in front of you, offering to share with your roommate.

Taehyung accepts the invitation by inching closer to you and going under the blanket, his body heat sticking to your skin.

“Want to go for a walk?” Taehyung asks, snuggling further into the blanket.

“A walk? It’s so dark out?”

“I bet the moon looks nice over the ocean.” Taehyung points out softly, “I bet it feels nice and cool.”

“Hmm, okay.”

~

Taehyung was right, the moon looks absolutely hypnotizing over the water. You two are sat in the sand near the shore and you can feel the mist of cool water greet you as the waves come in. It feels amazing.

“Can you believe it’s been a little over 6 months?” you sigh, “Time is flying by.”

“You don’t sound as bitter as you usually would.” Taehyung playfully bumps his knee into yours. “You like my company that much?” he teases.

But you tense at his words…he isn’t that far off and you know that’s dangerous, almost as dangerous as him.

“I’m tired of being so bitter.” You admit, “Doesn’t mean I love this situation. I want to return to the real world…I have a lot of things to take care of. I can’t use the island as an excuse anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“My life is a mess, Tae. This island was like a break from that…I know that sounds crazy—”

“No, I get it.” Taehyung says softly. “I get it.”

“But can you believe we are still here? I mean, we flirt but I don’t know if it’s getting us anywhere.” You whisper. “And are they really taking us seriously?”

“What’s that mean?” Taehyung raises his brows, “Take us seriously?”

“We don’t view each other that way.” You say as quietly as you can, making Taehyung’s heart race. “We never will.”

“Oh.” Taehyung drops his head low, “Right.” Then he raises his head. “So are you saying you would never view me in any way besides a friend?”

“Obviously.” You chuckle, “That’s what we agreed on.”

Taehyung let’s your words marinate for a second…you’re right you two agreed to get along and nothing more. But things change? Taehyung is the type to realize things pretty quickly and go for it. He’s questioning a lot right now. Is he just super fucking attracted to you? Or does his feelings run deeper than that. And he just got his answer.

The fact that you say you would never view him that way has him feeling down, like a major state of depression is coming, like a large storm cloud is making its way over his body.

He wants you to change your mind. He wants you to like him. Why? Isn’t it obvious? He likes you.

“I guess.” He finally says after a long while, he doesn’t know what else to say honestly. He knows you aren’t anywhere near ready to hear his feelings and honestly he isn’t ready to say them out loud yet either. He knows he isn’t technically dating Hana but he still feels like he’s doing something wrong…like he’s cheating or just straight up betraying.

“Let’s walk.” He says standing to his feet, he leans down to help you up by the arm.

“Okie.”

You two begin walking down a path underneath the starry sky, his hand keeps bumping into yours as he talks and you grow nervous at the small contact. You can handle it, or so you think but when his skin touches your skin you feel a bolt of electricity fly down to your lower belly.

“And Jimin is my favorite.” He chuckles, “I mean, don’t get me wrong…I love all the guys but Jimin and I go way back. He can read me like his favorite book and vise versa.”

“That’s awesome. I wish I could meet them.” You admit shyly and Taehyung smiles down at you.

“You can!” he grins, “When we get out of here, I’ll fly you to Korea so you can visit me and you’ll meet the guys. Trust me, they’ll love you.”

You nod your head blushing like a middle school girl who just confessed a crush, you can’t help how rosy your cheeks get.

“You really think you’ll want to see me after this? Aren’t you tired of me yet?” you joke.

“Why? Are you tired of me?” Taehyung’s voice dips down an octave. “You can be honest.”

“No, Tae. I’m not tired of you….yet.” You bump your shoulder into his side and he chuckles.

“Good. Because…” Taehyung pauses, not entirely sure of what he was going to say. “Because…” he begins again. “I think I’m just getting used to you.”

“Only now?” you half joke, teasing him. “We—”

“I just mean,” Taehyung clears his throat, cutting you off. “I think I mean like I’m used to you in a way that I look forward to spending everyday with you.”

Oh. Oh. You stop walking abruptly making Taehyung stop as well, he blinks at you in confusion like ‘why the hell did you stop so suddenly?’.

“You look forward to spending time with me?” you swallow down your spit as you try to speak. “That’s…really sweet of you.” You admit.

Taehyung walks to you and stops just when his toes hit yours, “I can be very sweet.” He whispers to you. “I can show you.” Then he’s taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers, you only stare up at him confused by his action.

“For the cameras?” you ask as quietly as possibly.

“Not everything is for the cameras y/n. When are you going to get that through your pretty head?”

~~~~~~~~

Lately, Taehyung is confusing the hell out of you. He’s doing things he wouldn’t normally do, you think. You can understand flirting for the camera but why is he doing shit even when the cameras aren’t around? It’s not like you hate it…no, it’s not that. You hate to admit it but you fucking like it. A lot. The way he leans into you, the way his hands grip at your waist, the way his touch absolutely melts you. But it’s dangerous. You can’t get attached to him. He’s the first real friend you have in so many months…and that makes you feel pathetic. Poor guy is forced to be friends with you, flirt with you and so on.

You can feel the anxiety start to build…you hate this. You hate how easy it is for you to break, for you to crumble. It’s one of those days, right? You’ve barely made much of an appearance downstairs and you know that worries Taehyung. But today is just one of those days. The heartbreak of your real life seeps into the joyous façade of your island life. Fuck, you hate this. You hate how messy everything is and how nothing feels right or feels real.

It feels like your old life is becoming more and more out of reach, like you run after it, extending your hand out but it’s too far away from your grasp and that has you feeling helpless.

And that overwhelming dread suffocates you. Its hand wraps tightly around your throat, threatening to cut off your air supply. You’re sat up in your bed, your knees pulled into your chest as you try your hardest to level out your breathing, but it’s no use. No fucking use. The dread is too strong, its fingers leaving bruises around your neck.

“Breathe…breathe.” You repeat the words over like a mantra but your throat burns as tears threaten to pool your eyes so you keep them screwed shut.

Suddenly, you hear soft knocks on your bedroom door. Your head snaps upward. Shit.

“Y-Yeah?” You manage to choke out.

“Can I come in?” Taehyung’s voice is muffled on the other side of the door, his voice laced in concern.

“Uh…” you try to calm yourself down so you can respond properly.

“C-Can you just come by later?” You weakly suggest.

There’s a few beats of silence, you start to think he’s given up on you and left when you hear his soft voice once again,

“I have strawberries.”

You feel the pounding of your anxious heart relax just the tiniest. He brought me strawberries…of course he did.

“Umm sure, come in.”

Taehyung slowly creaks the door open, exposing himself.

He walks to the side of the bed, approaching you carefully, one hand carrying a bowl while the other carries a can of whipped cream.

“Snack?” He shakes the can in offering.

You try to smile, you really want to at least. But you feel your chest growing heavier and tighter, your breathing once again becoming uneven. Images of your family and your friends—the ones who didn’t totally shun you—come to mind and you just can’t take it anymore. Everything is too much. Tears well deep inside and before you realize it, tears are racing down your cheeks. You look up at Taehyung, without say anything you are begging him to comfort you. You weakly smile.

“Its…hard.” You admit between choked sobs. It so fucking hard. You miss your old life—believe it not—and the life you have now…is just playing pretend. Everything’s just too much for you right now.

Taehyung seems…surprised. He looks like he’s being torn apart.

“Woah, woah.” He rushes to set the bowl and can down on the nightstand.

“Hey, shh shh.” Taehyung sits on the edge of the bed, facing you. He reaches for your shoulder and begins rubbing it soothingly. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

You cry even harder at that. You reach your hand towards your shoulder and grab his, holding it tightly. You try your best to calm down, his touch relieving some of your pain.

“That’s it… In and out…good.” He continues rubbing your shoulder, even with your hand attached to his. He then releases your hand and finds his way into your hair, massaging your scalp, slowly and tenderly. A long sigh escapes you.

“I…I’m sorry for this…” You take a deep breath, “I just miss them so much.” You laugh pitifully, your head falling into your hands. “I know it’s pathetic.”

“No!” Taehyung’s stern voice startles you. “Don’t you say that. It’s understandable y/n…if anyone understands you, it’s me, right?” He reaches for your hand. “And I think you’ve been amazing, it’s okay to break down every once in a while.”

You manage to nod your head, as you stare down at your connecting hands.

“I know I can’t make up for the people we’ve been ripped from…”

“Don’t do that.” you say, squeezing his hand. “Don’t compare yourself with people from my old life.”

“I…sorry.” He breathes out, squeezing your hand back.

The two of you let long moments of silence pass between you, they are comfortable moments though. Just feeling his hand in yours is enough to make you breathe easy again.

“We have each other.” He says out of nowhere. He gazes into your swollen eyes and he can’t believe he didn’t notice before…he always thought your eyes were dark, plain, boring but he sees how gorgeous and deep they are. They look like the setting sun, they look like they could hold stars, they look mesmerizing.

“Yeah, we do.” You try to smile. “Will you…will you stay with me tonight?” Your voice is small and timid. Taehyung is surprised to say the least, that you would request such a thing but he’s softening his features and smiles for you.

“Yeah, of course.” Taehyung breathes out. He rises from the bed and walks to the other side, he makes his way to the spot he is supposed to occupy.

“This is okay, right?” he asks, making sure.

You can’t help but swallow hard as you answer. “Yes.”

Taehyung slips into the bed, sliding underneath the sheets…yours are way softer than his, he thinks. He lays on his side, facing you.

“I miss my sister.” You whisper. “She could be so annoying and over protective but,” you pause, trying not to cry again, “But I do miss her.” You laugh as Taehyung stays silent.

“My-my mom’s cooking, it’s the best. We may not always get along and we kind of fight a lot…but her way of apologizing or making sure I am okay is by cooking me some amazing meal.” You turn to your side as well, your back facing him. You’re too embarrassed to look at him.

“My dad…he always comforts me…he always has my back when I fight with my mom…” you chuckle and then you feel Taehyung’s hand on your back. He begins tracing circles on the fabric of your shirt.

“You know I use to go to this coffee place almost every single day. I miss it. That routine. It’s called Cozy Coffee…a small, family owned shop. Only one of its kind. I would read, write, journal. Just relax. Every day.” You breathe out, missing your comfort spot.

“My friend Layla…who isn’t really my friend anymore…she used to give the best advice. She would probably know exactly what to say to help me get through this situation.” You say a little bitterly. Taehyung feels his heart start to ache as he listens to you.

“You have me to get through this.” Taehyung whispers.

“I know I have you, Tae.” You move from your side to your back. “It’s crazy…I’ve only known you for 6 months but I…” you pause, hating yourself for admitting this. “I feel so close to you.” You quietly admit. “Can I ask you something?” you don’t wait for him to respond as you begin speaking again. “You think if we had met organically…we would get along?” you swallow hard before continuing, “Or are we only getting along because we like, have to? Because face it, you have no one else to talk to and—”

“y/n.” his tone is firm. “Don’t.” he warns. “Don’t think of it that way.”

“Just because you say that doesn’t mean I won’t.” you snap, surprising him.

“We will still talk after we get out of here…we will visit, we will make this work…” Taehyung tries but you scoff.

“If that’s even possible.”

“What do you mean?”

“We live so far from each other. And sure, we have texts and video chats but what about the time difference? Huh? This isn’t going to work afterwards. I’m already…” you take in a shaky breath, “I’m already getting so attached to you.” you then release that same shaky breath. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch when I don’t hear from you months at a time…” you shake your head, “and that’s okay! Because you’re just living life.” You clear your throat, he can tell you’re on the verge of crying. Fuck, what does he do?

“I’m sorry.” You wipe your face with your hands, “This convo took a turn, I’m sorry.”

Taehyung feels his heart aching still, it hurts. He hurts because you’re hurt. He just wants you to feel better.

“C’mere you baby.” He says while tugging on your arm towards his body…you barely even think about it as you scooch closer to him and you let him hold you in his arms for a short hug. You pull away just as quickly as you get comfortable in bed again.

“Get some sleep y/n. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.”

~

The A.C is kept rather low, and the buzz of the spinning fan keeps things cool…so, Taehyung’s arms wrapped around you is more than welcome. WAIT. Your eyes shoot open now, realizing your position. Your back is facing him, and your-your butt is shoved into his crotch. If the word ‘shoved’ was too aggressive you apologize but shit is true. Your ass is shoved deep into his crotch, you mean, you can feel everything. It’s an awkward position to say the least…you mean, or is it?

You glance around the room, your eyes fluttering all the way open. It’s now just hitting you that you two really slept in this room together.

His limbs are heavy, slung over your smaller body. His body is acting like your own personal heater, it’s pretty nice, not gonna lie. And his scent—don’t get started on his scent. His breathing is calm, each fan of his breath tickling your skin. Should you try to escape his hold? Or just let it be? Is it weird if you intentionally stay? Your mind is starting to race with a thousand questions, your overthinking getting the best of you. You lay still while your mind drowns in thoughts of Taehyung. Suddenly, you feel Taehyung stir behind you, so you immediately slam your eyes shut in panic, pretending to be asleep.

You can feel Taehyung sit up, just the slightest , one arm still under your head. But then Taehyung slips down further into the sheets once more, his body moving even closer to yours. His arms engulf you into a tight back hug, you can feel his face nuzzling the back of your neck. And the worst part is you feel him inhale you, snuggling impossibly closer. This makes you tense and melt at the same fucking time. He just nuzzled and inhaled you like you were what? He fucking safe space? You feel pulled into him, drawn to him. So you sleepily turn over in his arms, you wrap an arm around him while keeping your other arm safely tucked into your chest. You open your eyes to take a look at Taehyung’s sleeping face when you are met with two wide eyes. He looks…shocked at first but then the corners of his lips turn upwards. He gently squeezes your body into his and slowly closes his eyes again.

How can he sleep again?! Your mind is racing, your heart is racing, your body is racing even if you are frozen. Your nerves are very present, you feel your stomach turn, you feel butterflies flying, you feel restless. But Taehyung? He is absolutely fine. And that makes your body feel an ache you wish it didn’t.

~~~~

“Uh, can I help you?” You wait impatiently for an answer…you were just falling asleep!

“Sleepover.” Taehyung says nonchalantly while pushing past you, entering your bedroom.

“Um, sleepover?”

“I can’t sleep. I want to cuddle. Very innocent stuff.” Taehyung says as he pulls back the covers on your bed.

“Tae…” you hesitate to close the door, “What do you think you are doing?”

Ever since your little panic attack and your little sleepover with Taehyung, he has gotten used to the idea of snuggling closer to you even on places like the couch. And now tonight, he is here in your room requesting to sleep with you. You go red just at the thought.

“Don’t be a brat, y/n.” he says slipping into the bed and patting the spot next to him, “Now come over here.” He grins at you and you flush.

“Fine…” you can’t say you hate the idea…after getting a taste of cuddling once you have been yearning for his touch…just a little. You turn off the lights and step over towards the bed, sliding inside and snuggling in the blanket.

“No, come here.” He softly commands, “Lay on my chest…ah, wait.” He stops you from moving. “Do you mind if I sleep with my shirt off?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before so sure.” You mumble. Taehyung winks at you before he’s lifting his shirt over his head, sliding back down into the bed. “Now come.”

Taehyung slips an arm underneath your head as you lay down on his bare chest…you won’t lie…his warm skin on your cheek has you melting.

“So you think you and Hana would be a couple by now?” you decide to ask but you cringe at your own question. Why the hell did you bring up Hana? Taehyung’s face falls into a frown.

“Probably...maybe…I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Why are you saying sorry, it’s not like it’s your fault.”

“Somehow it feels like it is.” You admit, you lean a little closer to Taehyung, your body feeling heavier and heavier.

“It’s not…” he wraps his other hand around your waist, “I don’t regret meeting you y/n.”

“Do you mean that?”

You lean away from him and scoff, “Your life could be perfect right now but I’m ruining it.”

“Hey, don’t do that.” Taehyung warns, “It’s not you—”

“It is me! This company paired you with me! A complete and total stranger!” you whisper, “You’re stuck here with me, Taehyung. You’re forced to be what, friends with me?”

“No one’s forcing me to do anything. I genuinely enjoy spending time with you…” Taehyung tries to explain, he’s becoming really confused. Where is this all coming from?

“y/n…”

“What?” you snap and he flinches, “sorry…what is it?” you ask more softly.

“I could say the same about me, that I’m ruining your life too—”

“My life is already a mess before you.”

“We’re friends y/n. When we get out of here I will find you on twitter or what—”

“I don’t have social media.” You say.

“Fine, we will eventually exchange numbers. You get the point, we’re friends. Real friends.”

“Sorry I’m just overwhelmed…” you finally admit, “We’ve been here over six month Taehyung…why are we still here? How hasn’t anyone found us yet? Aren’t they looking for us?”

“I’m sure people are trying.”

“I don’t hate being with you.” You say, “But I want to go home.” You begin to sniffle and Taehyung panics. He tightens his hold on you, he wishes he could bring you in even closer.

“I know. Me too.” He admits, hugging you tight. “But at least we got each other, right?”

Taehyung is the closest thing you’ve had to a friend in months…you don’t want to get this attached to him. When you guys get sent home…he’s going back to Korea and you back to your home and he will move on with his life and you won’t have him anymore.

“Sure.” You reply weakly, “Sure.”

“Let’s not talk about this anymore.” Taehyung whispers.

“What should we talk about then? Or should we just go to sleep?”

“No, I want to chat.” He chuckles. “Why do you seem nervous around me sometimes?” he decides to ask, his hand loosening around your waist.

“Me? Nervous? You’re just imagining that.” You breathe out, “and if I have been it’s not like you have never been nervous around me…right?”

“Who says I haven’t?” His chuckles come out dark and low. “I think I make you nervous.”

His hand slides down until he grips at your thigh before he’s letting go and gliding his fingers across your thigh and up to your hip. Your bare legs feeling the electric touch of his fingers. You suck in a long breath at the contact.

“W-Why would you make me nervous?” your eyes flutter shut and you bite down on your bottom lip as he continues to stroke your thigh. Your breathing picking up unknowing to you, your chest rising and falling faster than before.

“Your body tells me I do.” He says slowly, his voice deep.

Your quick breaths fan across his chest…he obviously knows you are getting affected.

“What does that mean?” you sigh but Taehyung doesn’t answer he just continues his ministrations on your skin. The way your shorts ride up gives him access to your thighs and hip. He lightly strokes you over and over, making you lose some of your composure. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched. And Taehyung knows this. He knows he should probably stop…but your skin feels so warm, so soft. His fingers skid across your upper thigh again and he notices how you exhale deep long breaths at his touch, how you close your eyes, how you bite your lip.

“If I don’t make you feel nervous,” he begins, his light touch never stopping, “then what do I make you feel?”

“Good.” You breathe out, “You make me feel good.”

Taehyung raises his brows in amusement, clearly liking your admission.

“You don’t know how good I can make you feel y/n.” Taehyung’s voice goes low, it makes the goosebumps on your skin rise.

“Taehyung…” You open your eyes again and find his, his gaze is so dangerous you could honestly feel the torture of it forever.

His hand travels lower to caress your calf, then he’s sliding it back up again this time closer to the inner part of your thigh. Without thinking you slightly spread your legs apart, letting his fingers play with your more sensitive skin.

His touch is sending heat waves throughout your body and God, you are melting at his burning hot touch. You start to dance your hips around, too turned on to actually feel embarrassed.

“Jeez…you’re really getting worked up.” Taehyung darkly chuckles. He stares down at you with dark, intense eyes. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“S-Shut up.” You breathe out. “We probably…we probably shouldn’t do this…” you say, your voice strained.

Taehyung only smirks. “Do what? What exactly is it do you think we are going to do?”

His fingers slide closer and closer to the place that he shouldn’t. Your inner thigh is dangerous enough…but he lightly strokes you closer anyway. He knows exactly what he is doing.

“Do you think I’m going to make you come?” he teases. You hate how deep his voice gets when he talks to you like this—not that he’s ever said anything this bold.

“Lay on your back for me.” You nod your head until realization hits you.

“WAIT WHAT?” you sit up. “I am not going to like, have sex with you! Plus how can you even be sure I would come during sex?” You cock a brow, “You are a real cocky bastard, you know that?” Taehyung rolls his eyes all the way to the back of his head.

“We aren’t having sex.” He assures you. Oh. A little tiny voice in your head is asking why not. “And I definitely could make you come during sex. Jeez y/n, what type of incompetent guys have you been with?” Taehyung smirks, sitting up as well.

“T-Then how would you make me come?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy under his intense gaze. The gaze that drives you fucking nuts.

“With my fingers?” He shrugs.

“Aren’t you afraid this will ruin our friendship?” you pull at the ends of your hair, you know, a bad fucking habit.

“Not at all.” He says with total nonchalance. Jesus this guy is something else.

His features soften as he stares down at you, “Just let me take care of you.” He says.

You need to say no. This crosses way too many lines. But you can’t. You won’t. You figure you can just forget about it because that’s your only choice since you are already nodding your head in agreement.

“Then relax for me.” Taehyung uses his hand to softly push you down by the shoulder. “Please.” He licks his lips watching you ease yourself back on to the bed. You never break eye contact with Taehyung as your chest heaves again. How does he affect you this quickly? You are full of nerves, no shit, but you are so turned on by Taehyung’s low voice and sharp gaze that you nod your head, going along with his words.

“Good.” He says and you let out a long, harsh breath in response. Almost a moan.

“Taehyung…” your voice comes out more breathy than you intend and you immediately blush. You can feel his erection struggling in the confines of his sweats, poking the side of your thigh, you hope you calling out his name is making him suffer even more. Taehyung hasn’t made another move yet, just staring at you like he’s never seen you before.

“Please…” You reach for his hand and set it between your inner thighs. Wow, when were you this bold? He immediately smirks.

“Patience, baby.” The pet name has you rolling your eyes and not in a sassy way. Your lips part and your eyes are half lidded, you are a goner. And from what? This barely counts as foreplay! You are just so deprived of sexual attention. Taehyung watches you and you feel him rut against your thigh, God he feels so big.

“Sorry,” he says weakly, his own breaths sharp.

He takes a moment to compose himself, but to be honest you wish he wouldn’t. Taehyung lets out a long breath becoming even more serious, if that is possible. His hand is already dipped between your thighs and you are sure he can feel how desperate you are by the way you squirm. Even though he hasn’t even touched you. But you ache for his touch, it honestly hurts.

Finally, he cups you in his large hand. “So warm.” He says lowly. He wastes no time, using his fingers to move your shorts and panties to the side and swirls two fingers over your aching clit. You are dripping in arousal, his fingers getting coated in your juices within seconds.

“Did I make you this wet? Just by barely touching you?” He sounds genuinely surprised. Taehyung continues to glide his fingers between your folds.

You try to stay quiet, not trusting your voice at this point. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched that the feeling of his fingers, his long, beautiful fingers has you struggling to keep quiet. But you choke out when Taehyung slips a long finger inside you, pumping in and out very slowly. You whine at the sudden contact.

“I asked you a question.”

He enters another long finger into your greedy cunt. You want more of him. You are starting to think his fingers aren’t enough, but that’s your horny haze talking. His fingers begin thrusting into you, twisting his fingers in a way that has your body rutting against him. You can’t help the long dragged out moan that escapes your parted lips. Maybe they are enough, holy shit.

“Who made you this wet?” he asks almost like he genuinely wants to know like it’s not obvious.

Taehyung inserts another finger. Fuck. You moan over and over, loving how he explores you.

“Huh, baby?” he questions while you squeeze your eyes shut, while your mouth hangs open.

“I need you to use your words.” His fingers come to a sudden stop, he pulls them away from you. You gasp at the loss of contact. How un-fucking-fair. Your eyes shoot open, looking at him with eyes on fire.

“Y-You!” You finally choke out, “You made me this wet! Please Taehyung, please don’t stop.” You are a whining, withering mess. Taehyung just watches you, a dark smile appearing on his face.

“So greedy.” He says, his wicked grin taking over his face. “So fucking greedy.”

And before you know it, his fingers are back inside you but this time moving at a greater force than before, leaving you fucking breathless. His long fingers are reaching places so much deeper than you ever could.

“There…there. Don’t stop.” You pant.

The slick sounds of his fingers pushing into your body is delicious and disgusting. Between your moans and his harsh breaths and the sound of his fingers inside your body…it’s music to your ears.

“Need…need more…” you pant, your hand coming to your mouth.

“More? I got you babe.” His fingers leave your core, leaving you frustrated. How was this more? But then suddenly those same fingers are on your clit, your most sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Gonna—gonna make you feel so good…” You glance Taehyung’s way to see him with his gaze directed towards you already, his dark eyes somehow even darker.

You bite back a moan, your hand still covering your mouth.

“Let me hear you. Don’t cover your beautiful sounds.”

His fingers rub your aching clit even faster, harder, added pressure that is making you see stars and you aren’t even coming yet.

“So close Tae, I’m so…so”

“Yeah baby? Wanna come?”

“Yes yes yes” the coil twists tighter between your legs, already ready to snap. Taehyung repeats his motions, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. Taehyung watches with parted, panting lips as you lose all composure.

“Fuck, y/n.” Taehyung grunts under his breath, his voice taking you to the end.

Your body is twisting and turning, your hair is stuck to your forehead as the sweat builds up. Your eyes are slammed shut and your lips are apart releasing moan after moan. His other hand is at your core as well, two fingers entering you.

“Come all over my fingers, y/n. Let go baby, let go.”

Taehyung’s words has your vision going white, your entire body goes tense and then you are letting go. Cumming all over Taehyung’s fingers as his pumps slow and you begin to come down from your high. Your hand reaches up and grips his left arm, you whine at the feel of his muscles underneath your touch—only further turning you on. You clench your thighs together, bucking your hips into his slowing hand. Finally, you grind against his hand one last time, letting out all your last moans.

“You did so good.” Taehyung teases, his fingers leaving your body.

“Shut up.” Your breaths are heavy but you smile. Taehyung’s breathing isn’t much better. What do you do now? Say thank you?

“I’ll wash up and bring you a towel.” Taehyung informs you, breathing out roughly. He is painfully hard, you could feel him rutting against you the entire time he fingered you. Probably why you came so fast, honestly.

You hear Taehyung in the bathroom washing his hands. The sound of the running water giving you time to think. Sooooo what the fuck just happened? Did you just let your friend, your roommate, your fellow victim…finger bang you? Finger bang…what are you, 14? Either way, what the fuck? This is a lot to take it…you didn’t hate it. What do you do with that thought? No guy has ever made you come that fast and just from his fingers? Dear Lord, dear sweet baby Jesus. This is obviously because you haven’t come in so long…you mean, you’ve touched yourself, don’t get it wrong but it only ended in frustration. But tonight…you met a different fate. A fate that was in the hands of your friend. Your fucking friend. All the sudden tears prick your eyes—you’re just friends. You quickly pat your eyes dry with your T-shirt and shake your head to rid yourself of these thoughts. Why are you disappointed you’re just friends?

Before you know it Taehyung is back in the room, he’s holding a towel in his hand. He walks to your side of the bed and crawls on top…he looks hesitant. He almost looks afraid of you.

You reach for the towel, its warm and damp.

“No, I’ll do it.” Taehyung smiles softly, his eyebrows creasing as he does so.

He takes the damp towelette and begins cleaning up. You hiss at the contact, you are still incredibly sensitive. He only takes a few seconds to clean up the mess you two made before he’s pulling back.

“Thanks…” you mumble. Him cleaning you up was oddly intimate. Maybe it’s not that odd how intimate it felt actually. Because you know what? It was fucking intimate! This whole fiasco was intimate as hell! And it’s all your fault.

Taehyung sits on his knees, awkwardly might you add. You don’t know what to do with the towelette so you just throw it behind him. He looks at you with slight disgust before he’s smiling.

“Really?” he gives you a pointed look.

“What? I’ll throw it in the dirty clothes basket in the morning.” you smile back, then you become shy. Yes, fucking shy. Like you weren’t just a moaning mess for him minutes prior. You don’t know what to do with yourself. What do you say? What do you do? A sigh of relief is pushing past your lips when you realize Taehyung probably feels the same. He is looking at you like you might break. Suddenly you don’t feel relief, you feel guilt. This is your fault, you did this. You allowed this. What does he think of you now? You don’t just usually let your friends finger bang you—uh, you really need to stop saying it like that—this is bad.

“Aren’t you going to lay down?” You gesture to his side of the bed real awkwardly.

“Yup.” He then rolls his entire body over yours, like his weight wouldn’t crush you, landing in his previous spot on the bed. He sinks down into the sheets, leaving like a foot of space between you both. He is literally on the edge of his side of the bed. Shit. You did this. Now you’re fucking awkward.

“So.”

“So…”

Taehyung isn’t one to get weird after a sexual encounters but this is you we’re talking about, the girl he is stuck on an island with, the girl who is apparently his best match, the girl he definitely wants to fuck and last but not least, the girl he has real romantic feelings for.

He had the fanfuckingtastic idea of fucking you with his fingers…yeah, real smart on his part. He feels himself fill with pride that he was the first and only to make you come since you’ve been here.

He knows you two need to talk. What could this mean? He knows you enjoyed yourself…he knows you loved every moment his fingers were inside you. He is well aware of that fact. Your moans and cries of pleasure are indication enough.

He needs to talk to you though, he needs to hear how you feel. He wants you. He wants you so fucking bad. Taehyung smiles because he has a feeling this will turn out alright.

“So about what just happ—”

“Thanks for that,” you’re quick to cut him off, “but can we pretend that never happened?” you laugh, humorless.

Oh.

“Okay.”

~~~~~

It’s been a week. A fucking week. And you have hardly even looked at Taehyung much less spoke to him. It’s kind of hard to ignore the one person you live with but he guesses in such a big house he’s able to stay out of your way. Because that’s what you want, right? He thinks that’s what you want. You’ve been spending an awful amount of time in your bedroom and your dance studio and not a whole lot of time in the common areas. So basically fuck Taehyung, right? At least that’s what he’s thinking.

You…you regret it, right? Letting things escalate? You want to forget all about your little sleepover—like it never happened. And he has no one to blame but himself. But he couldn’t contain himself…touching you felt so good, felt so right. And the way you reacted from his simple touches…you want him, don’t you? At least that’s what he thought. He knows this is his fault. And he wants to take responsibility, as a man, as a decent human being…but he doesn’t know how to talk to you. When you two do pass each other, you either look at him with a tense, tight lipped smile or you don’t even acknowledge him at all. Both fucking hurt him. He feels like if this was the real world this is where you ghost him and he hates people who ghost.

Taehyung is just lying in bed, chest being crushed by a massive fat man as he wishes you would just talk to him. At this point that’s kind of all he wants. He has to accept this fact...this is an unrequited love, isn’t it? He groans in frustration, a heavy hand dragging down his face.

“y/n…” He whispers your name like a secret. It escapes past his lips without him really realizing. Why did the company set him up with a girl who will never feel the same? The thought rings in his head. The more he thinks about it the more he hates the company. He fists his hands in the sheets beneath him until his knuckles turn white. This fucking company is the one to blame for everything. He could be home, he could be making music, hanging with his friends and maybe even have Hana to call his. But no, he’s here. With the most amazing person he has ever met and it’s all one sided.

Would he change things? Wish he never came here? He honestly doesn’t know. But he can’t change things so why even ask that stupid question. Does he really wish he was back home and maybe be with Hana? But Hana didn’t do this to him. Didn’t make me feel lost and crazy and so fucking happy to even be in the same place as her. He loosens his grip on the sheets, flattening his palms on the bed. No, Hana was never the one for him. That he is certain of. But if you don’t feel the same way then you’re not the one for him either. And that fucking crushes him.

He huffs out a long breath and sits up, he tangles his fingers in his hair trying to soothe himself. It doesn’t really work but it was worth a shot. He gets off the bed and heads toward the door, he wants to wash his face with cold water, he needs a refresher, so he exits the room and begins walking towards the bathroom. As he reaches the door, he hears the sound of your bedroom door opening. You are leaving your bedroom for the first time today he believes and you immediately stop in your tracks when you spot him. Your eyes go wide and your mouth falls open just the slightest. He stares at you, just stares at you. His expression hardens when he remember this is you ghosting him but you speak up. Actually speak up.

“Hi.” You squeak out.

Explosions. Taehyung feels explosions everywhere. His heart is exploding, his mind is exploding, the world is exploding. How does one girl manage to rile him up this much? All you said was say hi…

“Hey.” He grumbles, not really doing much to hide his bitter tone.

You can’t help but wince at his response.

“Umm,” you start, your eyes darting all around the hallway. “Wanna…” your words get lost on your tongue.

“Wanna what?” he says harshly, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“Wanna watch a movie?” you whisper, your eyes down at your feet.

“Do I wanna watch a fucking movie?” He scoffs. Loud and clear.

“Oh.” You say, your eyes finally meeting his.

“Oh.” he mimics, his stiff expression never letting up.

“Taehyung—”

“What?” there’s a bite in his tone.

“Please watch a movie with me?” Your eyes are pleading. God, that’s when they are his favorite.

Taehyung stares at you from across the hall, just staring, he lowers his arms to his side and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his sweats.

“What movie?” He finally asks, his tone still tight.

“Any movie, it doesn’t matter.” You rush to say, feeling hopeful he will take you up on your suggestion. You shift from one foot to the other, your nerves spiking. He loves seeing you nervous like this, he can’t help it.

“Can we talk first?” He takes a few steps towards you but you clumsily move backward, backing away from him.

“We’re talk-talking right now.” You breathe out, your eyes never leaving his.

“You know exactly what I am talking about y/n.” his voice goes lower.

“Just wanna watch a movie.” You take another step back.

“Jesus y/n,” Taehyung rolls his eyes at you, “you really suck ass at confrontation.” He bites back.

You’re quiet for a moment, your eyes still on Taehyung. You suck in your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard. You are lost in your thoughts, trying to focus on the specific one you need. You’re swaying from side to side, clearly thinking of how to respond to him.

“You fingered me, big deal.” You finally huff out, rolling your eyes.

“It’s not a big deal? Then why haven’t you talked to me all fucking week?” He takes a few steps closer, closing the major distance between you two. This time your feet stay planted on the ground.

“Was worried you might take it… the wrong way.” You say, your eyes slide to the side. You understand this is a weak ass excuse but…

“Take it the wrong way?” He takes another step forward.

“Yeah. We’re just friends, right? Friends don’t let friends get them off. Didn’t want you to think this was something more.” Your words slice through him, cutting him up. Something more. Of course that’s what you were worried about. You just didn’t want him to catch feelings for you or whatever the fuck. Well too fucking late babe, he thinks bitterly.

“Right.” He finally says, taking one last step forward. He won’t lie, his heart doesn’t feel good. It feels sick probably, like it has an aching fever. Taehyung leans forward until his lips are barely touching the shell of your ear. His warm breaths tickling your skin.

“Just friends also don’t moan out for them over and over wanting to come.” He whispers, “And just friends don’t enjoy what we did as much as we did.” His deep voice sends chills across your body as you sigh out. “But right, we are just friends.”

“Yeah.” You release a shaky breath, “So…A movie?”

“Sure, y/n.” he leans away from you and he gives a half smile, he looks pained. And it hurts you. You nod your head towards the stairs and he nods in agreement.

But there’s still a lingering tension in the air, you can feel and you are sure Taehyung feels it too. There’s no way you are imagining a tension this thick. Somethings not right and after all of this, and you aren’t sure it ever will be.

~

You’re full of regret. Don’t get it wrong, you don’t regret crossing the line with Taehyung…you regret telling him to forget about it. You just got so scared…he is closest thing you have to a friend and you hope you didn’t ruin that. But there’s more. You feel something more and that scares you too. What happens if you tell him you liked it and you want more but he rejects you first? He beats you to it.

“Should I make some popcorn?” Taehyung asks, his hands fiddling with the TV’s remote as he lowers the volume.

“Sure.” You respond a bit awkwardly. You find your way to the couch, sitting on one end, pulling the blanket to your lap.

Taehyung takes his time in the kitchen, he gulps down a glass of water as he waits for the popcorn to finish in the microwave. Once the timer is going off he takes it out and pours the popcorn in a large bowl and makes his way to the living room finding the sofa and taking a seat on the other side of it.

“You can sit closer Tae…” you shyly offer, your hand gesturing towards the spot next to you but Taehyung stares at you with hard eyes.

“No thanks. I’m good here.”

“Seriously Taehyung? You pout, “Can we try to be a little normal?”

“Don’t know if that’s possible.” He quickly retorts, staring straight ahead now.

You frown at that, your lips turning downward in the most animated way. This is a mess. Everything is a mess. And it’s your fault. You feel bad, so fucking bad. You feel like Taehyung hates you. And that thought breaks your freaking heart into a million and one pieces.

“Taehyung?” you start to inch closer to him and he whips his head in your direction.

“”What?” He leans away from you, confused why you are scooting closer to him.

“Taehyung…” you sit as close to him as possible and he looks at you with a face void of emotion. You eye him carefully and he looks numb. This just makes you feel worse. Tears start to prick your eyes and your face scrunches up…Taehyung’s features soften when he realizes how close you are to crying.

“Cry baby.” He states, his voice much softer than he intended. “Come.” He pulls you by the arm, bringing him to his body.

“Taehyung.” You sniffle.

“What is it?” he replies back easily this time, no harshness in his tone…like, instead it’s the sound of comfort.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, burying your head into his chest. You inhale him and his scent makes you feel dizzy. You breathe him in again, getting high off of him. You start to silently cry, your tears wetting his shirt…he doesn’t say anything though, he just rubs your back soothingly.

“What are you sorry for?” he asks, almost hesitant.

“Everything.” You admit. “Sorry for what I said in the hall…sorry for…” you cry a little more.

“For?”

“I shouldn’t have asked you to forget about that night.” You finally push out, sliding your eyes to the side. Taehyung blows out a puff of air and offers you a small smile.

“Why did you?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know.” You answer with a half-truth. Taehyung creases his brows, pulling them together so dramatically as his expression hardens again.

“You don’t know?” he pinches his nose with his fingers. “Listen…did you enjoy it?” he asks bluntly. His eyes finding yours again and it’s that same gaze that drives you insane.

“Taehyung…”

“Did you enjoy it y/n?” he asks again, this time more demanding.

“I…” the words get lost in a lump in your throat.

“Words y/n.” His hardened expression intimidates the fuck out of you to say the least. “Is that what you are afraid of? That because you liked it so much…you’ll want more?”

Bulls fucking eye. You swallow down your response. You just let your mouth open and close and open and close again, unable to say anything.

“What did I say about using your words y/n?” Taehyung scoots closer, making you feel fucking suffocated…but not entirely in a bad way.

“Tae…” his name escapes you in a breathy moan.

Taehyung stares down at you, his eyes narrowed and serious. He breathes out roughly before scoffing.

“I think we’re done here.” He states coldly, he stands to his feet and begins walking away, leaving you confused and breathless.

Done? How? What does he mean? Taehyung then continued to avoid you for several more days…until…

~~~~~~

“I’m not doing it.” Taehyung yells out, loud enough for you, who is in another room to hear.

“What?” You shout back, wiping your forehead with a towel. “Did you say something?” It would be the first time he’s saying something to you in several days.

“I said I’m not doing it!” and with that you hear him bolt up the stairs and after a few seconds the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut could be heard throughout the house.

“Jeez…” You step out of your dance studio, sweat patted dry into your skin. “What’s he throwing a tantrum over?” but somehow you have a feeling. You walk into the living room towards the bright TV, you face falling at the sight. The TV is bright white with black letter painted across, showing the ‘Request’ that has your face as white as a ghost.

Request: make out for 1 Minute.

Penalty: no power for 5 days.

You reread the words at least 30 fucking times, letting each syllable sink in,

you sigh to yourself, feeling fucking lost. You know you have to talk to Taehyung, his reaction also repeating in your crazy mind. You slump your shoulders as your head bows down in defeat. He fucking hates you, wants nothing to do with you right now. It’s just some kissing right? You both have literally done worse. You have to talk to him. You lift your head and look in the direction of the staircase, your lips pulling into a pout. How would this go?

~

“I said we’re not doing it.” Taehyung plainly states. He sits on the edge of his bed, fists balling up the end of the blanket. You look between him and his cool statement and his fists of frustration.

“Taehyung we—”

“We can just take the penalty.” His tone is firm.

You look at him incredulously. Take the fucking penalty? 5 days without power?

“You’re saying you would rather have 5,” You lift up your hand showing him your five fingers in case he doesn’t know what 5 looks like, “5 fucking days without power then to just kiss me? Like really?”

“Really.” He stands from his bed, stepping in front of you, walking you backwards. You step back until your back hits the wall next to the door. Taehyung stops only a few inches away from you, looming over your body.

“So…I’ll be taking a nap now.” He says flatly.

Is he serious? He really won’t do this with you? You have seen each other naked for Christs sake! You’ve never not done a request! You get that he’s mad at you, but 5 days? 5 whole days?

“It’s just a minute Taehyung…” You murmur more to yourself than him. Hurt probably written all over your face. You are feeling absolutely rejected. A feeling you hate the most.

“Yeah.” he takes a step back. “A minute I don’t want to be a part of.” He spits out at you.

Fucking ouch.

Things with Ben hurt. Bad. But Taehyung wanting nothing to do with you? Hurts worse.

You look down at your feet, fidgeting with your digits.

“Why are you being such an asshole?” You say between deep breaths. You can’t cry. He’s quiet. Too quiet. You suck in a shaky breath, “I already said sorry so why are you treating me this way?” You don’t mean to sound so pathetic but you do because well, you are. He lets silence linger in the air. You can’t muster the courage to look up at him, he’s probably void of all emotion, probably will give you some robotic answer. If you are even lucky enough to get an answer.

You hear Taehyung exhale through his nose but that’s it. Without even sparing him a glance, you turn towards the door to take your leave but then you feel Taehyung’s hand on your arm stopping you.

“Wait.” His voice is rough. He clears his throat and releases his grip on you.

You turn to face him, finally lifting your head to see him. His eyes are narrowed and his lips are set in a firm line. At least he has an expression.

“What?” you mumble, your eyes glossy.

“Don’t cry.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes narrowing even more. His gaze is not one to fuck with.

“I won’t.” you say, unconvincing.

“y/n…” his gaze begins to soften.

“I won’t” you repeat, still just as unconvincing. Your eyes gloss over even more and you feel your throat beginning to tighten.

Taehyung relaxes his features even more, and to your surprise he reaches forward and rubs your shoulder.

“Please don’t cry.” His voice loses its edge, all softness now.

“I won’t” You choke out, barely able to keep your lip from quivering. A single tear falling from your eye.

“If I agree to do the request will you stop?” he asks, still rubbing your shoulder.

“If you-if you stop being an asshole I’ll stop.” Another tear.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just…I just had to be firm with you.” He admits, his voice low.

“I don’t understand…” You cry out. More tears fallen on your cheek.

Taehyung looks at you with an odd expression you can’t decipher.

“Trust me, I know.” He says, defeat lacing his tone. “Can you just…respect my decision?” he adds on.

“I just don’t see the big deal…” you sniffle, “We’ve done worse.”

“And look where that got us.” He laughs bitterly.

He’s not…wrong. But still, for some reason you keep pushing it.

“It’s just a minute Tae.” You try again, wiping your flushed face of tears.

Taehyung raises his brows at you and sets his lips into a firm line again, he places his hands into his pants pockets and rocks back and forth.

“Wanna do it that badly?” he lightly snaps. “Fine.”

You feel the shift in his mood again, he’s been a roller coaster lately—it’s so unlike him. Are you doing this to him? Damn, girl you toxic as fuck.

You step forward and reach for his hand, he lets you.

“What’s wrong?” You finally ask.

“What’s wrong?” he mocks your voice.

“Taehyung please—”

“I want to kiss you.” He states. “And…and...” he tears his gaze away from you, looking all around the room instead. “And you just don’t get that.”

Taehyung steps forward, a fire in his eyes as he speaks up again.

“It’s cruel for me, don’t you think? I get to kiss you until that timer goes off and then what? I have to pretend we didn’t just do that? Have to pretend we didn’t do something I have been wanting to do for god knows how long! I have to pretend we’re just fucking friends?” he shouts, laughing bitterly again.

You’re…stunned. Taehyung takes a step back again, his eyes never leaving yours. You look up at him with pinched brows and a confused mind.

“But yeah, let’s do the stupid request. That’s a great idea.” He rolls his eyes.

“Taehyung…” You start to feel guilty, like maybe and by maybe you mean obviously, you struck a chord.

“No y/n, we’re doing the request.” He cages you with his arms on either side of you, he leans forward until his nose is brushing yours. “I’m going to kiss you, and I am not responsible for what happens after that.” He leans away again, “So, I’ll see you tonight.”

[sif-the-tsunami]

When you fall apart

But this ain’t my mama’s broken heart. 

Warnings: Yes, all of them. No smut all angst. and no promise of a happy ending. gallows humor, pregnancy loss, infidelity, self medication, spicy language. 

Summary: Sy is a cheating bastard and his wife has had enough. 

Pairing: Syverson, now a Colonel and his long suffering wife Josephine. (marriage is great guys, I promise.)

Just over 3,300 words.

This might not have been what you were expecting @oddsnendsfanfics​

My mother was a genuine Southern debutante, I grew up with pictures of her on the walls with her gorgeous smile and pretty pearl necklaces. Blonde hair and green eyed, she was the most beautiful little slice of American apple pie. Her daddy was the ‘Old Money’ type, and she was his finest accomplishment, she looked, behaved, spoke perfectly. Never once have I heard that woman raise her voice to a man. Hell, I never heard her pass gas in front of anyone for that matter. She is the picture of privilege, she went from her daddy’s house to her sorority house to her husband’s house. Some how, even though she smokes a pack a day, she still looks like she could pass for being forty instead of almost sixty. The last time we saw each other, my friends told me they didn’t know I had an older sister.

Mama married a gentleman who had the good sense to enlist in the military to help support the lifestyle she demanded he provide for her. He was never around much but he gave her a nice house with a lovely front yard, and two little perfect children. He was another one of the old Southern types, I don’t think he ever outright said “I love you, Josephine,” or “I’m proud of you, girl.” Looking back, I don’t think anyone ever did that for him either, so he probably didn’t know how to tell that to me or my brother Theodore. I’m almost sure that he and Mama loved each other once upon a time. Daddy worked hard, he broke his body serving his country, and when he couldn’t do that anymore he broke his own heart trying to please Mama. She must have been disappointed in how her life turned out. She might have had dreams once, when she was younger. I’m pretty sure the last of them were crushed when Daddy died balls deep in the woman who used to perm my Mama’s hair.

Mama played the grieving widow perfectly, not a single person knew that they had been miserable for years. She has worn black out in public ever since. I think the only thing that has really changed is that she has started day drinking now because she’s lonely. I don’t blame her really. She pushed us really hard to be as perfect outwardly as she is, so it is safe to say that she is really disappointed in your truly.

You might be wondering why this all matters, dear reader. However, I find that it is important for you to know this when I tell you I’m remembering this sitting here in the county sheriff’s office, waiting on my Mama to come pick me up because my probably soon to be ex-husband and I got into screaming match, and I may have drunkenly thrown my bottle of tequila at my probably soon to be ex-husband’s head. The details are a little fuzzy at the moment.

“Josephine Syverson, your mother is here to pick you up.” The Sheriff’s deputy starts in his slow drawl, “Now don’t you go pickin’ no fights with your husband. You’re lucky he ain’t pressing charges. Go sleep it off now, Ma’am. I’m sure you two kids will work it out.”

I wait until he can’t see my face to roll my eyes. And low and behold, there she is, my Mama drove four hours to come and pick me up. She’s in a black vintage driving coat, and her hair is covered by a dark gray satin bonnet. It doesn’t matter that it is half past midnight, she is still the beauty queen she has always been. I drank enough Jose Cuervo tonight that my head is still swimming, but I walk with the grace and dignity she taught me.

“Oh my Lord, Josie, what have you done to yourself?” She asks. “Thank you, officers, I’ll get her back on track.”

We make our way out to the car and Mama unlocks the door for me. I slide in and as soon as my butt hits the leather of her seats, I start crying all over again. She gives me the packet of tissues she keeps in her purse then hands a little make-up bag.

“So, what was is this time, Josie, I swear to Lord Jesus that if he laid a hand on you, your brother and I will bury him in the back yard.” She says turning on her Cadillac. “Get cleaned up, you are coming home with me. Maybe James will be smart enough to figure out where you went.”

“Mama?” Who was this woman? She never talks like this.

“Come on, your mama isn’t as dumb as she looks. Although he evidently is.” She lights up a cigarette and offers me one.

“I quit when we started trying… Even after… well… everything, I didn’t start back up.”

She pats my leg. I unzip the bag to find makeup wipes, mascara, face powder and some brick red lipstick. We might not get along all the time but she is a damn life saver. I have black rivers of my own eyeliner and mascara from earlier today streaking my face. I clean myself up as much as I can and then reapply some make-up. “There, now that you are looking better, tell me what happened...”

“Where do you want me to start? I swear this started after his first deployment.”

“Okay, Josie, start there.”

James Syverson is an Army Ranger, I met him after he finished officers school. Because of the nature of military special forces, they deploy more often than most jobs in the military. I understand that they are under a lot of pressure during these deployments and because he is in a position in leadership I opted to give him as much room as he needed. The other officer’s wives informed me that I needed to recalibrate my expectations of what could happen. They warned me that what happens on deployment shouldn’t be held against him when he gets home. And I didn’t, until a girl barely old enough to visit a bar came up to my door asking for my husband with a hand on her belly. She was just as surprised to see me as I was to see her.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. I just looked up Syverson in the phone book, and I didn’t know he was married.”

“Is it his?”

“Ma’am?”

“I can see that you are pregnant. Is. It. His?”

“I… I don’t know…” She said quietly.

“He is still over there. Do not come here again unless you are requesting a paternity test.” And I slammed the door shut. She did come back for the test results when he came home. Turned out that the baby wasn’t his. Small favors, right?

I never faulted the women who fell in love with him. I knew how special he could make them feel, its how I fell in love with him in the first place. After everything he’s put me through it almost doesn’t matter when it is just the two of us. All I have ever wanted was for it to be just the two of us again, but I don’t know think I can wait for him to retire.

“How many times do you think he’s done it?”

“At least once a deployment. The most recent one saw us at the movies last night. He was holding my hand like nothing had ever happened. When he was coming back from the concession stand, a little redhead stopped him and asked who he was here with. When she saw me, she looked like she saw a ghost. He came back up, handed me my pop, kissed my cheek and wrapped his arm around me. He said ‘I promise you, it is not what it looks like.’ but the bitch and her friend kept looking over their shoulders to peek at us. I saw her texting someone and then his phone vibrated, but he didn’t look at his phone until I wasn’t with him.”

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph.” She lit up again. “And you’ve just been sitting on this, the entire time?”

“Yeah, I learned from the best, Mama. I didn’t want to let you down. You taught me to never let them see me cry.”

“Oh, my baby girl...”

The rest of the night at the movies, I kept it to myself, I’ve had enough. The boiling, seething hatred I was feeling for both of them. I hate that they are always younger than me. I hate that it always makes me like I’m not enough. When I woke up this morning had a beer in the shower. I always save the last one for him, so taking the last one was a big “fuck you” to him. He tried to climb in with me until he saw me drinking in the shower.

“Woman, what are you doing?” He asked. Like he wasn’t the one who introduced me to the idea of a shower beer.

“I’m going to keep drinking ‘til my heart stops hurting, Sy. I don’t know what else to do. But whatever it is that we keep doing, I can’t keep it up anymore. Get out.” I have never denied him, no matter what he wanted. And up until this morning, I had been an amazing wife to him. In the fifteen years of marriage, he has only had to do his own laundry when he was away from home. And even then, he probable conned someone into doing it for him. I have lost almost every friend I have made from relocating so often. I have started and stopped working on my Master’s degree more times than I can count. And now here I am, mid-thirties with none of my own goals accomplished to show for all of the work I have done over the years. If I had opened my mouth, even once, about his indiscretions, he never would have made it to Colonel. Not once have I complained.

After I dried my body off, I walked into the kitchen, naked as the day I was born and grabbed my trusty kitchen sheers. I needed a change. He paused the game he was playing long enough to watch me walk past him with my scissors and the bottle of margaritas.

“Jo, it’s nine in the morning. Being a little dramatic, aren’t we? We going to church today?”

“Why, James? You’ve been yelling ‘Oh my god,’ between some whore’s legs fairly regularly, I’m sure he knows you are a big fan.” I walked away before he could reply, locking the door behind me to our bedroom. He pounded on the door a few times but got the hint that I was not in the mood to be talked to when I turned up Chris LeDoux as loud as I could play it. Then I went to go give myself bangs.

When the music fades, the house is silent. No video games, no football, nothing. I continue to drink from my bottle and the world becomes a little more tolerable. Now, I am not a heavy drinker. Sy teases me all the time about how cheap of a date I am.

“Josephine!” He snaps at me in his soldier voice and I drop the margaritas.

“Jesus fuck, Sy, why you gotta scare me like that.”

“Oh, you are the one getting scared, woman, I have never seen you act like this before.”

“That’s because you ain’t here every time one of your indiscretions comes knocking on the door of my house. Never once have I expected sainthood from you, James, I learned better after your first deployment,” he won’t look me in the eye, either he’s ashamed of what he’s been doing or he is going to punch a whole in the wall tonight. “You would have seen this if you had been around after my daddy died. This is your wife, Syverson, she goes a little crazy from time to time.

“You know how hard I tried to come home for that, that is not fair Josephine.”

“I’m sure you did try. I wish you would try a little harder when it comes to picking out these dumb sluts who think that you are just going to run away from home as soon as you come back from the sandbox. I have received notes on my car windshield telling me that you were going to leave me for them. How you loved them and you were just suffering with me. That I’m hateful, and spiteful, and they could treat you so much better then I ever could. What have you been telling these girls, James, for them to think I am some kind of monster? Haven’t I been a good wife to you? What did I do to you to make you hate me this much?”

“I had no idea that they were doing that. I don’t hate you, baby. You have been a better wife than I probably could have ever deserved. Is that what you want to hear? I know I’m a rotten bastard. How long have you been holding this in, Josie?” His face darkens, I can see all the rage boiling up in him too.

“Don’t you call me that name, you son of a bitch.” I spit at him.

“How long?”

“Since Cassandra came up holding her belly, waiting to tell you that she made you a daddy. Too bad it wasn’t the first time, or I actually might have been worried that you’d leave. I hadn’t even stopped bleeding yet before she tried to take you.” I snarled back at him. And he face drops. Twelve years ago, we tried. I was seven months pregnant when I lost our son. Sy’s squad was wiped out after a night of heavy combat. He barely made it out alive himself. I got a phone call about his injuries and I must have made a deal with the devil himself. I would put up with the womanizing, the long distance, the heartache, just please have him come up to me. I would give anything to save him, I had thought. An hour after I got the call that he had woken up and was safely on a ship in the Mediterranean sea, I started to go into early labor.

“Oh, fuck me. That long?” He whispers. He rubs his face, the stubble was getting long, unless he was out in the field, he kept himself within regulations. He reached out to hold me but I shrug off his touch. He walked away from me, thinking that maybe he might let me calm down and we would go back to being a picture perfect couple again. He could just do whatever he wanted and I will grin and bare it.

I cleaned up the mess I made then went back to the bedroom to put on something on me other than shame. We gave each other space until the evening came around. He came in to ask if I had any plans for dinner. Wrong question, buddy. I walked to the kitchen in my tight black yoga pants and a tank top, went to the liquor cabinet, grabbed my favorite bottle of tequila and took three long gulps.

“That’s my plan, worry about yourself.”

“You haven’t had any real food today, you need to eat something.”

“Eat my ass, Colonel.” With that he pins me to the wall, the room spins around me and I start thrashing against him. He’s got probably 100lbs on me and more combative training than I can remember, so as you can well imagine this is going super great for me. I stop long enough to see the tears forming in his eyes. “Was there ever anything special between us, did you keep any part of yourself just for me?”

“Josephine, you are the only woman I have ever loved. I never even implied that I had any feelings towards them. They knew from the beginning it was simply recreational. Jo, you know you are my best friend.”

“Then why do you keep hurting me? Why am I not enough, Sy? Why do they keep getting you at your best, and I have to put all of your broken pieces back together again when you finally do come home.” Remember every time he woke up screaming the names of his fallen friends. When we have to leave BBQ’s early on the 4th of July because the fireworks remind him of mortar shells.

“You are enough. You are more than enough. I couldn’t have made it this far without you. It has never been anything other than stress relief with them.” The first tear rolls down his cheek. “I love you, Pussycat, now please lets get some food in you. Are you going to be good?”

“Haven’t I always been good. Been good, but not good enough.” I whine and slide down the wall once his hands are off of me. Good lord, where the hell is my dignity. 

He lets me go gently and leaves to make me a peanut butter sandwich. While his back is turned, I grab the bottle one more time and take another long swig. This is where the rest of my night is very fuzzy until I came to in the back of the squad car.

He evidently tried to take the bottle from me, I threw it at him, it went wide and smashed against the wall. He took me to the ground, just tried to keep me from hurting either of us and I screamed at him every vile thing I could think of until the sheriff showed up. They tried to take him in, seeing that I was a sobbing mess on the floor. I told them I tried to hurt him, so they handcuffed me and took me in. Before they drove off, James brought a sweater and my purse out for me. I watched a couple of nosy housewives standing at the end of their drive ways. I’m pretty sure I flipped them the bird and they looked at me with disgust.

Now I’m sitting here, in Mama’s Cadillac, licking my wounds.

“Why in the name of God have you not told me about any of this?” Mama asks, this is now her sixth cigarette. I think she’s trying not to turn the car around.

“I thought you would have told me to get over myself and save face.” I say as we pull to her house.

“No, baby girl, I wouldn’t have. No one, especially not my daughter, deserves to be treated like that. Ooo I never liked the boy. Your daddy used to say that cowboy was all hat and no cattle. Let’s get some sleep, Princess. We will go get your stuff in the morning.”

I make my way to my childhood bedroom and collapse down on the bed. Before I close my eyes for the night, I finally check my phone. He had been blowing up my text messages.

I realize that I have never apologized to you about my short comings. But I swear to you, I will get out of the army if you want me to. We can move anywhere you want to, we can start over, just the two of us. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry that you kept this all from me. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t love you. These where from six hours ago.

I don’t know when you will get your phone back, I love you. This was from before my mom collected me.

They told me you have been released from custody but didn’t say to who. Who ever picked you up asked them not to tell me. Are you safe?

I love you. Please. Let me know where you are, I’ll come get you. I hope that you are just ignoring me because you are asleep.

I reply to him with a simple Mama picked me up. Get some sleep. We will talk in the morning.

No ‘I love you’ from me tonight although it killed me not to tell him. Tomorrow, I will figure out if what we have can be saved. But that is tomorrow Josie’s problem.

[mysterietwin]

//Smn unprompted I figured I’d drop in the askbox, don’t mind me. Does your Dip still like to investigate the paranormal as an adult, or has he taken a step back from that life since leaving the Falls? I’m wondering how his relationship to the unexplained has developed, post-series. 🤔

(Apologies if this is something you’ve discussed on his muse page already. I haven’t read it yet, but it’s on my to-do! 😭)

always accepting character questions !! 🥺   [ @skewed-logic​ ]

ok so i literally never shut up LMAO, don’t worry. i literally love to answer these things !! ❤️

in adulthood, the paranormal is just... it’s a distraction. in the series, i never saw it as some life long passion or anything, just a current hyperfixation because it’s new and there’s a ‘mystery’ to solve and it’s fun, and they’re, you know, twelve. and honestly ?? i don’t think it would’ve developed much further than that if there wasn’t a fuck ton of trauma to accompany it, or if dipper was emotionally healthy / stable going into adulthood.

HOWEVER, because we’re not that lucky and there is all that baggage,   ( and this is gonna feel like a side tangent for a minute but it’s important context, okay, trust me )   they kind of went into adulthood not really knowing what to do ? plus like, five years of existential dread and a nice lil mix of pretty much untreated mental health issues   ( besides, i suppose, some pills that don’t even feel like they’re doing anything ? )   all before turning 18, so they were just...what’s the point ?? if the sky can open up and the universe can be torn apart so god damn easily, literally what good is university ?? or some boring nine to five in an office working yourself to death ?? 

so with that, dipper said they were going to take a gap year to figure things out, make plans, etc. and during that time, they ended up going out exploring and traveling, solving whatever paranormal hijinks and mysteries they could find — which i also...partially attribute to feeling like that’s what’s expected of them after gravity falls. that this is what they’re ‘good’ at and what they should be doing. right ?? i mean, how do you save the world at twelve years old, and not do something at least somewhat related to it ? and plus, it sucks having to face that gifted kid burn out and not feel like you have anything or some kind of skillset to fall back on   ( whether or not it’s true )   ... but dipper has mysteries and the supernatural to fall back on, where not many other people do...so on some level it’s also being used to cope with feelings of inadequacy or to not feel like their life is worthless. 

and so enough time went by and it came time to apply to college again, and they just...didn’t. dipper just...kept going down this same path. so the gap year became two, and two suddenly became four. there’s just something about the adrenaline in his veins he can’t let go of. it’s addicting. and as time goes on, i don’t think they genuinely enjoy it as much as they’ve convinced themself they do. it’s a self-destructive tendency in some desperate attempt to feel something.   ( and whenever i think about that, i can’t help but think back to how dipper only accepted the apprenticeship with ford after they had just defeated an ancient alien security system and saved his grunkle ? where they felt utterly amazing and accomplished and did something almost no one else can say they’ve done. )   essentially, they’re chasing that high again. and they just keep running...running to distance themself from the thoughts in their head, because if they slow down, they’ll have to process the trauma they went through. so, at it’s core...its just a distraction.

and dipper’s always used isolation as an unhealthy coping mechanism, so this definitely reinforces that behavior, too. i definitely don’t think they’ve cut themselves off from their family by any means, especially because i like to imagine mabel and them still talk on the phone every day and visits her whenever they’re around - ish   ( i would simply cry if they didn’t )   and dipper definitely visits gravity falls a bit or whenever invited — but ultimately it’s still an excuse to be alone, and be able to ignore anyone if they even vaguely suggested that they needed help.

and that’s not to say that as a teen they don’t enjoy getting to go back to the paranormal nonsense of the town during the next summer(s), but there’s definitely a stark contrast to how it was and how it is now, and definitely let themself get dependent on it.

so yeah, that’s where it currently stands in dipper’s main / young adult verse. to end on a positive note at least, i would love to see dipper get help — maybe they reach their breaking point, maybe it’s by force because mabel just literally tackles them, who knows — since i don’t want them stuck like this forever ... that’d be bleak. i think ultimately i would love for dipper to go to college and become some kind of a forensic scientist, as a way to kinda stay true to who they are, but also be somewhat removed from their self-destructive habits !!  

[prismatales]

Through our lifetimes

Word Count: 2.7K

Bingo slot: Reincarnation

Pairings: Kirishima Eijiro x Reader

Tag/Warnings: Fluff, Slight Angst, Soulmates AU.

Synopsis: According to legends, when both soulmates turn eighteen, they start remembering their past lives together. You’ve known about that story ever since you were a small child. The question is....are you ready to meet your soulmate?

Another entry for the bingo event, hosted by the @bnhabookclub ! This time with the Reincarnation prompt! This is also a birthday present for my dear friend @pixxiesdust , who’s one of the most precious friends that I’ve ever had the chance to meet! Happy birthday Zeze! We love you! 

Beta readers: @todoscript & @etegomanere

Credits for the Kirishima cap goes to @eraserhead-transparents!

There’s an old myth about soulmates. One, that only a handful of people could tell you about. 

An old story your grandparents have always talked about ever since you were but a small child that was just starting to learn how to speak, let alone memorizing things.

According to the stories, when both soulmates become close to turning eighteen, they start to remember their past lives together. They’ll keep seeing glimpses of these moments in the past the closer they get to this age, and when the day finally arrives they will start to remember each and every single moment of their past lives.

How was it possible that an old couple that always showed their family nothing but unconditional love and support, was able to tell you about this old myth like it had been something that they had experienced themselves?

It was pretty simple...It was because they had experienced it themselves.

Every single summer, you’d spend it visiting that small, cozy home in the fields. It almost felt like you were living inside one of those fairytale books that your parents would always read to your younger self before going to bed. 

The days would go by listening to the stories about their past lives. You’d enjoy the nice breeze of summer, accompanied by an ice-cold pitch of sweet, tangy lemonade your grandfather would happily prepare for his two favorite ladies in the world.

It was a routine deeply engraved into your memories. Two tiny hands holding a glass way too big for them, filled to the brim with the sweet drink while you sat over your grandmother’s lap. Her wrinkly fingers would always caress the top of your head softly as she kept talking, and talking, and talking about the memories of her past lives with enthusiasm.

Despite being ridden to a wheelchair, your grandmother always made an effort to help her husband in their beloved fields. She would always help out by holding this huge basket over her lap, a way to help out the man standing in front of her, who was too busy choosing the best of their crops for their daily meals.

If there was something they took pride in, it was teaching you not to be a picky eater. There was something about their crops that made them so delicious, so different from the ones that your mother would always bring home from the supermarket.

It created some precious memories for everyone in the family when they saw the pictures of a small toddler, barely learning to walk, yet she already had her tiny, chubby face buried in a tomato.

As you grew up, it became a habit to come back during summer with the happiest smile on your face while helping out, carrying that huge basket filled to the brim with the delicious crops.

And many years later, once you finally started visiting them on your own, the habit of visiting the old couple every summer never died down. Some people your age would rather go to parties during the summer, or vacation to relax somewhere else.

But not you. 

Each summer break would be spent visiting that same house, enjoying the nice breeze with a glass of tangy lemonade, smiling at the old couple as they kept telling you about the stories of their past lives.

Sighing deeply, you stared at the sliced tomato in your fork. Its color is pale in comparison to the ones from your grandpa’s fields, but even if their taste doesn’t even come close, food must never go to waste, so quickly, you start eating the delicious meal.

It’s just a typical lunch; a plate of pasta laid before you, carefully served in the shape of a small spiral, covered with a fine portion of tomato sauce, a sprinkle of parmesan cheese, and basil adorning the plate as the finishing touch. 

The dish came accompanied by two slices of bread, toasted to perfection with a nice touch of melted, garlic butter. 

Lastly, a nice portion of salad drizzled in balsamic vinegar as a side dish that, even though it was delicious, it couldn’t come even remotely close to those hand-picked crops back at those precious, grassy fields.

The taste of the salad may be bland in comparison, but it’s the company all around you that made the meal taste way better than what it was. 

After all, it’s your very first get together after graduating from UA a few months ago. And the best part? It’s all happening during your birthday.

Being surrounded by your former classmates was always a nice way to pass the day. After mentioning how this would be the first summer you’d be unable to visit your grandparents, all of your friends came up with a plan to cheer up the dejected, young woman patrolling the city with a melancholic smile.

It was expected that you would feel this way after spending years visiting the old couple in that lovely house, but you knew it was bound to happen the moment you chose to become a hero.

So the morning your birthday came up, everyone had quickly dragged you out for the day, barely giving you the chance to get ready before being taken to one of the longest outings you’ve ever experienced.  

From shopping sprees to a nice restaurant for lunch, and many other kinds of activities, the day literally flew by surrounded by those that could be considered a second family. 

But as much as you adored the effort they put to raise your spirits, nothing could distract you from the dreams that you kept having for the past days.

Like the one where a young woman kept sneaking out of her house at night. A beautiful dress, that judging by the intricate design and the puffiness of the skirt was from the victorian era, was carefully dragged around as she walked cautiously through the dark, empty streets. She just kept walking, occasionally turning into a different direction, until a hand shot out through an alleyway, dragging her yelping self with little effort. 

As terrifying as the gesture seemed, nothing but warm laughter came out of her lips when a pair of arms wrapped themselves around her, holding her body against a firm chest.

“You’re late!” A voice exclaimed from above, resting their jaw against her head lovingly, their bodies swayed together as they enjoyed the other’s presence in their little hiding spot. “Did you have a good day?”

Pulling her head back, she looked at her lover’s face with a tender smile, wrapping her own arms around the stranger’s waist. “Much better now that I am with you.” From the way she stared at this man, the love they shared was more than obvious before they shared a soft, tender kiss. 

But through your eyes, it was impossible to see what this stranger looked like because every time you had one of these dreams...there was a black blur over his face.

And of course...not all of these dreams had a happy ending.

Like that one couple, that despite trying their hardest to be together, their love became impossible the day she was betrothed to someone else in order to pay off her family’s debt. Her beloved, in a fit of heartbreak, went traveling overseas...and he was never seen again.

And then there were others, where the lovers never got a chance to meet, spending their whole lives waiting for the moment they could finally meet their special someone, just to realize, that in the end, faith had taken their loved one away before they could finally find each other.

“What do these dreams mean exactly, grandma…?” You asked this to your grandmother during a sunny day, pushing her wheelchair around the fields while she carried the same, worn-out basket in her wrinkly hands that were still full of strength. In the meantime, your grandfather was too busy picking some crops.

The moment you mentioned these strange dreams to the older woman, her face lit up with the same brilliance as that of a lighthouse in the middle of the darkest night. The basket fell out of her hands from the surprise, much to her husband’s surprise.

“Oh, my goddess! Honey! She has a soulmate! Our little girl has a soulmate!” She almost hopped out of her wheelchair from the joy. Seeing her being so excited that she almost stood up despite her legs being so frail, made the news even more exhilarating for the family.

You snapped out of the little trails of thoughts by a hand waved in front of your face. Blinking in surprise, you came face to face with a pair of red eyes and a slightly concerned face.

“Everything okay?” Kirishima asked, standing by your side while everyone else was engaged in their own conversation. “You’ve been spacing out for a while now.” 

Warmth began creeping up your whole face, embarrassed about spacing out on your friends. You smiled awkwardly at the red-headed guy at your right side before giggling softly as you looked up at the vast and clear orange sky, filled with some of the fluffiest clouds you’ve ever seen as they took different shapes, some of them being cuter than others. It was amazing how fast time would pass by when you were surrounded by good company; it was already starting to get dark.

“Sorry, I was thinking about my grandma. We usually sit in the garden at this time of the day while she tells me this story.”

In the middle of your little speech, you failed to notice the way Kirishima kept staring at you fondly, knowing from past conversations at high school just how much you adored the old couple.

“You really look up to them, don’t you?” 

“Yeah, I do.” Looking back as everyone kept walking in their own groups after today’s outing, your attention then shifted back to the guy walking alongside you.

Who just happened to be your high school crush, but after all the hardships that occurred three years ago; such as the constant fighting against groups like The League of Villains, The Shie Hassaikai, and others. Dating became the least of your worries. 

Especially now that you were on your way to become official pro-heroes, starting out first as sidekicks, of course. Your love life could probably wait...and hopefully, your future soulmate would understand…

“It’s getting pretty late, let me walk the birthday girl home!” He offered with that characteristic smile of his that could light up an entire room by itself.

“You really don’t have to!” 

“I insist! What kind of guy would let a girl walk alone at night?” 

Sighing in amusement, you gave in to his offer. Aftersaying goodbye to everyone else, both you and Kirishima began walking together in the direction of your small apartment.

The sky had already turned dark by the time you reached a small lake near the building.

“Hey, Kiri…Do you believe in past lives?” It was his turn to look back at the sky, stretching his hands behind his neck with eyes closing deep in thought and eyebrows half furrowed as well.

“Well...It’s not something I’d lose sleep over, but it could be interesting!” He opened a single eye and looked in your direction, the small grin together with those cheerful, red eyes could easily rival the beauty of the sunset itself. “You believe in them?”

“Well, yeah! I’ve heard so many stories about people who are able to remember their past lives, I think it would be amazing to know about ours!” He hummed quietly, nodding to himself in thought.

“What kind of stories have you heard?” He was genuinely curious. That, and seeing the joyful look on your face the moment he asked about it made it all worth it because seeing his crush happy was enough to make Kirishima equally joyful.

“Oh! This is my favorite one! According to the stories, when both soulmates turn eighteen, they see their past lives together!”

You kept explaining every detail to him, unaware of just how quiet he had become the moment you mentioned that once both soulmates turned this age, the hidden faces from their dreams, belonging to their lovers from a past life could finally be seen.

“What if they had an age difference? Say, five years?” He was starting to become more interested in the idea of these soulmates.

“Then they’ll start having the dreams once the youngest of the two also turns eighteen!”

“But what if one of them...dies before meeting each other?”

“Well...they’ll never know their soulmate...not all lives have a happy ending…”

“Oh, that’s...pretty sad.”

“Yeah, it is.” You looked back at the street, muttering softly to yourself. “Hope I can find mine, though…”

“Did you say something?”

“Ah! N-nothing important!”

After some slightly awkward silence, you finally came close to the building where you lived. 

“Well...Here we are!” You stood in front of the gates. A bright smile was directed to Kirishima, who stood a few feet away, but still close enough that if he lifted his hand, it could easily brush against yours. “Would you like to come in? I have some matcha cake waiting inside!” 

“You sure it’s okay?” 

“Of course, silly! I’m a firm believer that birthdays must always be celebrated with cake!” He couldn’t help laughing at your enthusiasm. 

But you didn’t get the chance to say another word before something flashed before your eyes. A burst of images began flashing at an overwhelming pace, different memories began coming all at once at an alarming rate that made you hunch, leaning on the gate and holding your aching head, throbbing painfully from the sudden wave of memories coming at all once.

Everything came so suddenly; all those dreams from your past lives came rushing like an avalanche.

That couple embracing each other in the darkness of the alleyway. The one that got separated because of a family dispute and the one that ran away together, everything just kept coming back. 

And when they finally stopped, the very first one that you remembered stayed still before your eyes. The couple from the victorian era were embracing each other tenderly before he grabbed his lover’s face by their chin to give them one of the sweetest kisses you could ever witness.

His face was no longer hidden by shadows, and it was like a burst of colors painted this seemingly dark room filled with nothing but black and white with the brightest of shades. Like the sun itself had stepped inside that room.

Because that smile, that bright smile that could easily rival the sun...it was Kirishima’s smile.

Turning your head back slowly with eyes wide open, the first thing you noticed was that your so-called friend was hunched over, holding his head painfully before slowly opening his eyes to look at you, with the same look of absolute shock in those bright red orbs that were always full of life, despite everything he had gone through.

Neither of you moved for a solid minute and just stayed in place looking at one another before a tearful smile began appearing on your face.

“It’s you…!” 

Carefully, your hands pushed against the wall for impulse, at the same time that he took a single step, before breaking into a short sprint until he reached you, taking you into a heartfelt embrace that was eagerly reciprocated.

“How did I ever get so lucky?” He whispered, voice nearly breaking from everything he felt in that moment. Neither of you had the willpower to let go, not caring about anything, or anyone else. 

“All this time...all this time, you were always right in front of me.” You whimpered. “We’ve been having the same dreams for a whole year and didn’t know it!”

“You’re not going to leave this time, are you?” You nuzzled closer to him, hugging him as tightly as possible and completely afraid of losing your soulmate all over again like in those past lives.

“Never, I could never do that to you!” He kissed your temple lovingly. “Nothing will tear us apart. I promise!”

@bnha-ra @bnhabookclub @gallickingun @godtieruwu @hanniejji @mysticalite @savagetrickster @shoobirino @songsforbnha @sugacookiies @unbreakableeiji @wesparklebitch @pixxiesdust @hawks-senseis @yikerb​ 

[wanderingchocolateeclair]

Here she is!!! I finally got round to drawing her again and I’m actually relatively happy with how she turned out. She is one of my favourite ocs and I love her to bits - I made her almost a year ago when I was thinking about some random EctoLoader headcanons and suddenly had the urge to give them a child...and so then she was designed :D I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post my initial designs as well because I really don’t like the look of my old art but you know why not:

Please keep in mind that these are quite old and um...not that brilliant but they were my first quick sketches of her and I ended up writing a whole entire backstory for her so yeah! (Now that I look back at it I realise I didn’t make her hair poofy enough in the new drawing...also the page ripped and I was really sad about that-) anyway here’s some info about her (under the cut because it ended up a little longer than I expected):

AH I forgot to say!! There are mentions of death and severe injury and other stuff like that in the backstory so please read with caution!

Name -> Yuna Makimi

Age -> 17

Quirk -> “Adapt” - her quirk allows her to adapt certain parts of her body to suit whatever situation she is in. A main example of this would be when she creates little pads on the ends of her fingers which pick up vibrations, enabling her to “see” her surroundings a little better. However she cannot use her quirk to restore parts of her body that are lost/severely damaged (like her legs + eyes).

Occupation -> Student at UA

Current status -> Alive

Family -> Mother (deceased), Father (deceased), Powerloader (adopted dad), Ectoplasm (adopted dad)

Likes -> Dumplings, sitting in flower fields, doing literally anything with her friends + family

More info + backstory:

So, like I mentioned, I came up with her when I was thinking about EctoLoader headcanons and one of these hcs is that after Ecto loses his legs they both go round and pay visits to hospitals and other places to visit the children/patients there - and so yeah.

Yuna was part of quite the loving family, her parents were quite strict but loved her to pieces.

They weren’t the richest of people, and didn’t get along with the rest of their family for whatever reasons, but they were fine together - just the three of them.

That is until the accident that completely changed her life.

At the age of 8 she was caught up in a nasty villain attack as they were driving through the city and their car was completely destroyed. Her parents died at the scene and she was immediately whisked to hospital with very severe injuries.

She lost both her legs and almost all sight in her eyes, her parents were dead and she had nowhere to go, and at such a young age she felt so lost.

2 years passed and still nobody wanted to take her in, they said it would be “too much responsibility” to look after someone like her. And so at that point she had given up on all hope if someday being in a loving family again. Only 10 years old and her life had completely crumbled to pieces.

That is until one day PL swings by on one of his visits and meets this small child who looks as if she never smiles. He speaks to her and she slowly became less shy of this small man that sat in front of her. He decided to visit more often (he was made aware of her situation by one of the nurses that looked after her) and told Ecto all about this sweet little girl who he’d met who was in need of a better life. And over time they contemplated taking her in as their own - they weren’t sure yet but they had thought about it.

One day PL came with a surprise. He had put together a pair of prosthetic legs for her that she had mentioned to him before that she wished she had and that wasn’t all, they mentioned that this time Ecto came along too. She was absolutely overjoyed. She had heard about him and looked up to him a lot, he inspired her to keep going, even though she had lost her legs.

After discussing it with each other, they asked her whether she would be happy to come and live with them, and join a loving family once again. She was taken aback by the offer, as no one had even considered looking after for 2 whole years, but she realised that she was finally offered a normal life again and she was oh so happy with that...and so they adopted her and it was the best decision they ever made.

They helped her get used to her new home and she slowly got more and more comfortable with her new life. Ecto helped her with her therapy, guiding her when she felt lost and confused about what she’s doing. PL helped by tweaking little things about her prosthetics that could help her, and created little items to support her in her walking and her sight. They helped her discover new ways of using her quirk to allow her to be more aware of her surroundings and to help her “see” (she can’t use it to see fully, it just helps her to pinpoint the movements and positions of the objects/people around her a little better).

Soon enough, she was happier than ever, and when she was old enough she brought up her decision of wanting to go to UA. They weren’t sure whether or not she should, for her own safety, but she insisted that even with her disabilities she wanted to try her best at becoming a hero just like them in her own way...even if others believed it was barely possible. And so they allowed it. They taught there anyway so if anything were to happen they would always be close by.

She made a bunch of amazing friends at UA and learnt to handle her quirk in many different ways - expanding it to help her in various different situations. Her classmates would always be there to help her when she needed it but all believed that she was one of the strongest out of all of them - this really made her emotional because it wasn’t something that she ever expected to hear - and hearing this really made Ecto and PL happy, because they had watched as this tiny helpless girl had grown up to become strong, happy and incredibly loved.

And that’s my “little” backstory for her! Sorry its a bit sad and all that but it wouldn’t be one of my backstories if it wasn’t some form of tragic....:/ Anyway have some random headcanons for her->

She cannot ride in a car unless she is holding someone’s hand, this is pretty self-explanatory.

She loves jokes and stupid puns, they make her so incredibly happy it’s unbelievable.

She also loves flowers - they smell nice.

She isn’t entirely blind - she can just about make out shapes and moving objects but without the aid of her quirk she finds it hard to tell the difference between what might be a person and what might just be a large object.

She loves to sing and dance, and she has a beautiful voice, however she gets embarrassed if she gets caught.

She is always happy to spend any sort of time with her dads because with their jobs as heroes, free time can sometimes be very hard to come by.

Sorry how absolutely all over the place this is, I have plenty more headcanons and info about her, but I think I’ve rambled on for quite long enough now! (Plus I kinda just want to post it now because the more I look at the drawing the less I like it-)

Anyway, I hope you like her! She is one of my favourite characters that I’ve made and she makes me very happy. Hopefully, I’ll draw her some more :)

~Eclair

[anastasiawrites]

Scorpius Malfoy x reader: The transfer student

Requested by @elitsamladenova: Can you write Scorpius x reader where she is Slytherin, but she is from 🇧🇬 and she part veela.

...

2k words, haven’t reviewed it yet so-

> Masterlist <

...

You watched nervously as first-years were getting sorted into there houses.

All the students kept glancing and staring at you for many reasons.

Some of them were curious, whispering if you were a transfer student or maybe a quarter giant for being a foot taller then all the first years.

But then again, transfer students were really rare.

The others, which were mostly boys, kept looking at you, it was because of your beauty. You were part veela, it was natural for boys to be mesmerized by your looks. Most girls threw daggers at your direction for catching the attention of there crushes or lovers.

But you didn't care, you were used to that.

In which house will I be sorted in? You kept asking yourself.  

You read about each house, you didn't have a favorite but you were scared that the hat would sort you in a house that wouldn't really match your personality.

There was also another reason why you were nervous, Durmstrang, your previous school, was a lot smaller and had fewer students as they didn't accept muggle-borns and seeing so many people made you feel quite nervous.

You kept wondering if your magic skills were enough for Hogwarts.

What if they were more experienced?

You were too preoccupied with your 'what if' that you nearly missed the headmistress, Professor Mcgonal, clearing her throat to get the attention of all her students.

"Now that we sorted all our first years, I would like to introduce you to our new transfer student that came from Bulgaria for her fifth year. She used to attend Dumstrang, I hope you welcome her with open arms, Miss. y/n y/l/n, please come here"

She gestured for you to come and place the old hat on your head.

You placed it on you and you started hearing a voice.

"Ah miss y/l/n, it felt like yesterday when I sorted your grandpa...he was such a brave Gryffindor."

A smile found it self on your lips, you loved your grandpa, he was your hero since you were a kid.

"You possess many qualities dear, some good and some bad, Knowledge, creativity, you love the taste that adventure leaves on you...but you are resourceful and ambitious, you got a thirst for leadership. You are definitely a..."

You inhaled a deep breath. 

"Slytherin!"

Cheers roared from the Slytherin table, most of them from boys.

Other houses were quite disappointed to not have you. You were quite interesting, you came from Belgium, went to Dumstrang and you where beautiful...

As you set the hat into its original place and smiled at the headmistress, you walked towards the Slytherin table, noticing that your robe now matched the Slytherin's ones, green and silver.

You sat next to two boys, one of them had messy black hair and bright almond-shaped green eyes, the other one was pale, and had almost white-blond platinum hair, grey eyes, and a pointed face.

"Are you part veela?" you found yourself asking him.

Most veela have platinum hair and pale skin, like him but others don't, it all depends.

He looked at you, a little bit shocked that you talked to him and shook his head.

"What about you?" he asked, curiosity in his voice.

"Yes, my mother is a Veela, my father is a wizard, I am the first part Veela in the family" you explained, he nodded.

"Can you transform your head into a bird's one and get long scaly wings to burst from your shoulder? And can you throw flames?" a girl that sat in front of you asked, and you just realized that most students were more curious about you then the mouth-watering food that was served, as their eyes were on you.

"I can't transform into a bird, but I can conjure fire, not as much as a pure veela can."

The girl nodded, "My name is Charlotte Labott, nice to meet you, y/n"

You smiled sweetly at her but then it turned into a frown as she started talking badly about the boy that you just talking to and his friend.

"If I were you, I wouldn't talk with those two, rumors say that blondie is the son of the Dark Lord while Potter is a family shame for ending up in Slytherin while all the others are in Gryffindor." she snickered, and the Slytherins chuckled.

"Well, good thing that you aren't me, I thought that Slytherins were intelligent enough to not believe rumors and plus, no one is a family shame just because of which house you are."

The two boys smiled slightly, the weren't used to people who aren't family to defend them.

"I would rather befriend them than you, thank you, Charlotte."

She glared at you but then turned to her friend as they both started to talk about you.

"My name is Scorpius Malfoy and that is my friend Albus Potter." the blond boy said.

You smiled sheepishly at them, "I guess you already know who I am..."

They both nodded, "Thanks for defending us, y/n." said Albus softly.

You merely shrugged, "It was nothing"

"It meant a lot for us," said Scorpius.

You felt kind of bad that they had to endure bullying, you hated bullies.

"You seem familiar," you said to Albus who looked uncomfortable at your words.

"My father is Harry Potter, you must know him." he rolled his eyes.

You nodded.

"Yeah, I like his scar but he must hate it, it reminds him of painful memories after all..."

Albus nodded, a small look of sadness crossing his face.

"But scars like his can be a reminder on what you are fighting for or most likely who."

...

"Ey, Albus, Scorpius, wait for me!" said James as he approached both boys

"What do you want James?"

"So I saw you talking to y/n...maybe you could introduce us?" said James

Albus and Scorpius both slapped there face, dramatically.

James wasn't the first person to ask them that, he was, in fact, one of the thirty boys that came to talk to Albus and Scorpius in the last few hours about her.

Ever since you talked to them yesterday, everyone is either looking at them in envy or, glared at them.

"Hey, Scorpius, Albus" you grinned at them as you stood next to them, you just finished classes. You then noticed James, who quickly introduced himself.

"James. James Potter, Albus' older brother." he grinned

You nodded and smiled.

"What were you talking about, I think I heard my name?"

"Oh you wouldn't believe how many boys asked us to introduce them to you just because you talked to us yesterday." groaned Albus

"Not that we don't appreciate you talking to us," said Scorpius quickly when he saw your smile falling slightly "it's just boys being...boys."

"You two are boys too"

"Ah yeah, we do find you beautiful and all but I have that crush on that girl called Rose, Albus' cousin, and you aren't exactly Albus' type."

"But you are certainly my type." winked James, a lot of boys had said the same sentence to you many, many times.

"Well I am glad, like that, I would be able to have two friends who are males and won't have a crush on me" you clapped your hands like a child, "but it's a shame, you both are really cute and cute is my type."

Your attempt of jocking made both boys blush, their ears were scarlet while their cheeks were light pink.

"I am cute too!" said James 

"Ah, yes you are." you grinned at him and nodded.

"No, he isn't" both boys denied

James ignored them, "maybe you would like to go with me to the Hogsmeade visit?" he asked

You sighted, that sentence was heard so many times today...

"Well, we will see, James." you kissed his cheek and then turned towards Albus and Scorpius.

"How could you be so good at English?"

"Oh well, my grandfather went to Hogwarts, he was a Gryffindor, but when he met my grandmother, he went with her to Bulgaria. I spend a lot of time with my grandfather and always talk with him in English to get better at it."

"Oh okay."

"So how do you find Hogwarts?" asked Scorpius.

"Oh it's amazing, I love it! it's huge! Dumstrang had only four floors while I found out that there are 7 here! And that the defense against dark art is only defense here while we had to learn The Dark Art there, so I found the class easier then there but Potion is pretty hard here."

"So, you could have easily an O during the O.W.L.S in D.A.D.A"

"Well, I hope so." you grinned.

"Did you play quidditch in your old school?" asked James who was still pink because of the small kiss.

You frowned, looking down at the floor, "I suck at flying...brooms and me, aren't really best friends."

"Well I can help you, I am on the quidditch team"

"We can help you too," said Scorpius, pointing at Albus and himself.

"Euh...Should I choose or...?"

"No no, I am sure that Albus and Scorpius wouldn't mind me being the one to help you out, we can start today after classes on the quidditch field."

You smiled and gave him a hug in which, he blushed.

"Thank you guys, I gotta go and finish my homework, bye!"

"But I wanted to teach her." frowned Scorpius while looking at James when you were out of earshot.

...

"I think that I am going to fall" you panicked

"Relax, and take a deep breath, everything will be fine."

You did as he was told and, it did in fact work. 

You were mid-air with James, he was helping you with your flying skills.

"So, do you have any siblings?" he asked

"Yes, I have two sisters and brothers, what about you?"

"Well there is Albus and my younger sister, Lily"

"She has a nice name."

"Not as nice as yours." he flirted

You chuckled slightly while shaking your head, making you lose your balance and hang on your broom, your arms are the only thing supporting you for not falling 35 feet down (10.5 meters).

James was slightly panicking, he quickly went towards you and pulled you to sit on his broom, his arms around yours trying to calm both of you down.

"C-Can we get down..please?" you asked

He didn't respond, just tightened his arms around you, and started to slowly get down.

Once you hit the ground, you were still in Albus' arms. 

"I am sorry, y/n, I am a terrible trainer."

Despite your current condition, you chuckled and shook your head.

"No, no, I am just a bad flier, it's in my blood, neither of my parents knew how to fly either, it was a miracle that my sister got into the quidditch team during her years at Durmstrang."

Albus grinned, both your faces were close and he resisted the urge to kiss you, but him glancing at your lips every few seconds made you understand the situation so you cleared your throat and stepped out of his embrace.

"So I will see you tomorrow at the same hour?" he asked hopefully in which you nodded.

You then said goodbye and went to the dungeons, in the Slytherin common room where both Albus and Scorpius were sitting.

You noticed that both of them were doing their homework so you decided to help them as you finished yours.

"So how was your flying lesson with my brother?" asked Albus.

Scorpius stopped writing his potion Essai and listened eagerly at your response.

"It was good...well, I nearly fell but James was there to catch me.

"You were going to fall!?" 

"Well thankfully, I didn't."

"I wouldn't have let you fall..." muttered Scorpius under his breath.

...

"So are you going to tell her...?" asked Albus to his best friend.

"No, she wouldn't want to be with someone like me, she must like your brother."

"Oh common, you are way better than James, just try and ask y/n out, okay?"

"Okay..." 

...

"So, y/n, how has your day been?" asked Scorpius

"Exhausting. What about you?"

"It was good...I have a question," he said a little bit too quickly.

You grinned at him.

"Sure, what is it?"

"So...there is that Hogsmeade visit in a few weeks and I would like to know if you want like...go with me...But you must be busy and James must have already asked you out and...and...I know you said that it would be good to have two male friends who won't have a crush on you and all but..."

You quickly cut him off.

"Scorpius, take a deep breath. Yes, I would like to go on a date with you." you laughed, grinning as your cheeks started turning a faint shade of pink.

"A-And what about James?" he asked, surprised.

"Well, I already told James that I like somebody else...You. He was cool about it and we are still taking flying courses too."

"Oh, Okay, I am glad that you liked...me." he grinned.

You kissed his flaming cheeks and hugged then both of you walked hand in hand with him around Hogwarts.

........................

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

Should I make a part 2?

[bean-pole-art]

Ed’s Borderlands Fics Masterpost

well finally

here is the masterpost of all of my Borderlands fics posted. most of them are Rhysothy focused to various AUs. I’m gonna update it as I post more but here it is, along with some of my commentary

right from the start big big BIG shoutout to @spoks-illogical-art​, my partner in crime, my biggest inspo, without them honestly most of these fics wouldn’t exist, please check out their amazing art <3

(latest edit - 21/02/2021)

Atlas AU - our main timeline, follows events of Moxxi’s Heist. lots of different concepts and ideas but the core really is Tim moving to Promethea to get help from Rhys. gonna sort em here with posting date, check the ao3 series for the “timeline”

Hypothetically - 2240 words summary: Rhys talks a lot, but usually thinks about it too little.

coffee, cats & monographs - 2880 words summary: “Hey hey, easy. You don’t want to repeat the accident from last week, do you?” Rhys cooed towards the cat and picked her up, just as Timothy instructed him to. Hearing these words, Felicity meowed. “Oh, don’t say that. This is my office and I have the power here,” he answered, carrying her back to his personal space.

Or Timothy's cat pays a visit to Rhys' office in the morning. note: I am a stupid mofo and at this point Tim would also have Loader Bot fkjbfd just imagine hes not mentioned cause hes wandering off, typical LB

Have Faith - 1470 words summary: During the 7 year lockdown at the Handsome Jackpot, Timothy couldn't really have any hope for himself. But maybe on Promethea it could be different. note: sudden feelings while watching JoltzDude139′s stream

Warm Cheeks, Cold Hands - 1170 words summary: Rhys comes home early and wants to say hi to his husband. With no ulterior motive. None at all. note: first fic Ive ever posted where characters are married, actually. fuck it, Rhysothy Real, his name is Rhys Lawrence

the battle (and the aftermath) of the ages - 2970 words summary: In a situation like this everything was possible, they could pull any punches they could think of. Four beasts playing against each other, every single one of them thinking of striking the winning blow.

Or Promethea Squad plays UNO. And then watches a movie. note: I love Promethea Squad with my whole heart

okurimono (贈り物) - 4/4, 17170 words summary: “Not a bomb. Just a device with a message for Rhys. Trust me on that,” this time an emoji of both winking and showing off a tongue [;P] appeared on the surface of Zer0’s helmet. Ah. So they were definitely trying to mess him up. In a way. Unfortunately, he really didn’t have any other options. Almost with a defeat, Timothy took the ECHOrecorder right from their hands and looked around it again. Or Zer0 gives Timothy a peculiar mission. note: my first ever multichapter fic. took me legit abt 8 months to finish but I am absolutely satisfied with this. also the bonus ending. yes

(there is) something I see in you - 8690 words summary: How one Rhys Strongfork met one Timothy Lawrence and how they fell for each other. More or less. note: best to go into this one blind, I swear. dumbest fic Ive ever written and please take this as a recommendation

this world is gonna pull through - 14380 words summary: Timothy really hoped it wasn’t anything important. He had that tendency to forget things easily, even if he tried to fight it. But Rhys kept on smiling and went by his side. So it couldn’t have been that bad. Still dumbfounded, he felt Rhys leaving a kiss right on his cheek.“November 11th? 

That- That seriously doesn’t ring any bells?” Rhys continued, brushing his hands against his shoulders. Or how Timothy spent one of his birthdays. note: also a love letter for Tim but a nicer one I guess kdjfnb dont ask how old is he i have no gdamn idea man

Strawberry Sweet - 3560 words summary: Rhys surprises Timothy with a gift for their date night in.

Happy Mercenary Day, Mr. Lawrence - 4670 words summary: How Timothy spent his first Mercenary Day on Promethea. note: I swear this is the best writer night Ive ever had. Ive written this whole thing in one night on Christmas day, solely on the inspo of that song I linked

Don’t Go Wasting Your Emotion - 4/4, 17080 words summary:  Afterwards, he went around with his usual duties. Getting a quick roundabout from his PA, checking several sectors himself and looking through the thousands of messages already sent to him via ECHOs. Rhys was ready to finally take on the day, yet when he made his way to the office, he saw the unusual envelope right by the edge of his desk. “For Rhys” was written on it. Straightforward enough. Or Rhys gets a letter from a secret admirer. note: another multichapter fic!! this one also took some time and well. its inspired by ABBA songs. cause only I would write a Rhysothy fic inspired by ABBA

Ratchet Effect - 7130 words summary: Knowing just how much overworked Rhys has been, Timothy wants to let them have a nice getaway in Lazy River Land. There's only one problem to overcome - ratch infestation. note: first fic of 2021!! Ive been playing a lot of bl3 suring the writing of it so it has a lot of stuff I had observed both on Promethea and on Jackpot

Reflections - 2250 words summary: Sometimes, Timothy needs a reminder.

Tales AU - second most important timeline. it’s Tales but Tim is a part of the group. sorted chronologically

A Story For Another Day - ongoing, for now -  2/25, 15280 words Tales AU main fic. it’s gonna be a big one

Connection Interrupted - 3240 words summary: With his driving shift finished, Timothy checks up on Rhys and Vaughn's plans.

Completely Hopeless - 1040 words summary: In which Fiona notices that Rhys behaves differently in front of a certain doppelganger.

infinity times infinity times infinity - 3460 words summary: Rhys and Timothy share some dreams and secrets underneath the stars. note: the beautiful combination of Sleeping At Last and Minecraft parodies. I promise it makes sense

reality can be whatever I want - 11420 words summary: “Hey, Tim?” Timothy didn’t even spare him a look, “Are we alone, or is he there with you?” Oh, this definitely won’t be pretty.

After the confession of Handsome Jack's AI in his head and his plan to infiltrate Helios, Rhys needs to set things right with Timothy. Somehow. note: thanosdancing.gif to Backstreet Boys’ “I Want It That Way” 80′s remix and a guest appearance from Ferocity but I cant legally say her name here

still here - 2820 words summary: It all had to go down, after Helios crashed. note: I have...a love/hate relationship with this one kjdfbfg I like it but it’s honestly an alternate ending and doesnt fit within our usual bad ending, so take it with a grain of salt. i ten jebany błąd językowy w summary, kiedy ja go poprawię

together at last - 5590 words summary: It all struck him down in an instant, in this one minute. They were all safe. And they were all alive. Nothing was threatening neither him, nor Timothy, nor Fiona. He could finally breathe out.

They all found each other again. note: I am multitasking most time of my life but I dont relate any other fic to multitasking more than this one. I was honestly doing 10 things at once while writing this dfkjbndf

David AU - this one is a sub AU to Tales AU and the plot is kind of complicated dfjkbfb please check the fic for further explanation

building in curved lines - 22490 words summary: “To be fair, you look terrible. You’re barely standing in one piece and none of your coffees will hold you together for that long,” Lilith paused, seemingly weighing the correct words in her head. “You haven’t really been holding on since… We rescued The Double.” Rhys sighed heavily. Why did she have to be so right about everything. Or how Rhys and Timothy adjust to the reality after the Handsome Jack AI. note: bday gift for Spok, EASILY one of my absolute faves and the longest fic Ive written thus far

outside of AUs - some concepts I play with that are honestly outside any of our concrete timelines/concepts + fics not focused on Rhysothy

Real - 770 words summary: Reconciling with your past is a little easier, when you have someone you love right in your arms. note: first blands fic I’ve ever written. the characterization isn’t really there yet but as a first shot at the game and my kind of “introduction”, I am still satisfied of it

(Un)Familiar Faces - 9620 words summary: Timothy pursed his lips and leaned over the wall a little. He’s had enough of this solitude of closed doppelganger cabinet. Today wasn’t the day for another self-loathing session. Today, he should go off on Helios and do something for himself.

Or Timothy spends the night at a Helios bar. But not as Handsome Jack. And not as Timothy Lawrence either. note: personal favorite of mine, tough love letter to Timothy Lawrence. I have so many fond memories of writing this, including getting drunk out of my mind just like Tim and Rhys here

basics of survival - 2010 words summary: Athena taught Timothy everything he needed to know about survival. Now, it was time to put these skills into use. note: wrote this right before rona outbreak on last day in my dorms. thats all

[zerochanges]

2020 Favorite Video Games

I don’t know if I am an outlier or if this is the same for everyone else but I really did not play a lot of games this year. 2020 was a very harsh year for all of us, especially for me for some personal reasons. So to get to the chase, I am just gonna say it left me not doing much in what little free time I did have, and I didn’t play much either. Usually I try to keep my lists for ‘favorite of the year’ to only titles released that year but since I played so little this year, screw it. I am gonna include any game I played this year regardless of release date.

Collection of SaGa

By far a flawed rerelease. It’s bare bones: there are no advance features you would usually expect out of these kinds of emulated rereleases like save states, fast forward, or rewind, and there was no real effort made to touch up almost 30 year old localizations that had to meet Nintendo of America’s then harsh standards. This really is just 3 roms slapped into a nice looking interface with an option to increase the game speed (which by the way you better use, the characters walk very slow in these old games). 

I am bit harsh here, but only because I thought the Romancing SaGa remasters and the upcoming SaGa Frontier remaster all looked like they got a great budget and a lot of love while this is just another Collection of Mana situation (moreso specifically talking about Seiken Densetsu 1/Final Fantasy Adventure/Adventures of Mana part of that collection). I would have loved to see Square Enix do a bit more for these older games. Or at least include the remakes. Seiken Densetsu 1 had two great remakes, both unused in Collection of Mana, and all three of these original SaGa titles have remakes that have never seen the light of day outside of Japan. How great would it have been to get the Wonderswan remake of SaGa 1, as well as the Nintendo DS remakes of Saga 2 and SaGa 3? 

But my gripes aside, these games are still fun as they ever were. Replaying SaGa 1 specifically during the holiday season really helped calm me down and made me feel at ease. It’s easy to forget but even in their Gameboy roots there are a lot of funky and weird experimental choices being made in these games. They aren’t your run-of-the-mil dragon quest (or considering the gameboy, maybe pokemon would be more apt) clones. 

Raging Loop

Perhaps my favorite game of the year, Raging Loop is one of the best visual novels I have ever played hands down. The level of creativity and splitting story paths that went into it is simply mind blowing. The basic premise is both a wonderful throwback to the old days of Chunsoft sound novels while still modern and somewhat reminiscent of both Higurashi and Danganronpa. Essentially you play as Haruaki, a poor slub that got lost in the mountains with no clue where to go until you stumble upon an old rural village with a strange history and even stranger superstitions. Before you know it there has been a murder and the Feast is now afoot.

The less said about Raging Loop the better, although I do want to say a lot about it one day if I ever can write a proper review of it. This is a gripping game that will take hold of you once you get into it though and never let go. I actually 100%-ed this and I very rarely do that. I got every ending, every bonus hidden ending, played the entire game twice to hear all the hidden details it purposely hides on your first play through, played all the bonus epilogue chapters, unlocked all the hidden voice actor interviews, collected all the art work, etc, etc. I was just obsessed with this game, it’s that damn good! And the main character is maybe the best troll in all of video games, god bless Haruaki. 

Root Double

From Takumi Nakazawa, long time contributor to Kotaro Uchikoshi’s work comes a game any fan of Zero Escape or Uchikoshi in general will probably enjoy. Root Double, like its name suggests is a visual novel with two different routes, hence Root Double. The first route stars Watase Kasasagi, the leader of an elite rescue team in the midst of their greatest crisis yet that could lead to nuclear devastation as they try to evacuate a nuclear research facility that has gone awry. 

The other route stars Natsuhiko Tenkawa, an everyday high schooler whose peaceful life is thrown into turmoil when he stumbles upon a terrorist plot to destroy the nuclear facility in the city and his attempts to stop them. Together the two separate plots weave into one and creates a really crazy ride. Part Chernobyl, part science fiction, any fan of the genre will easily enjoy it. And hey it’s kind of relevant to include on this list too since it just got a Switch port this year (I played it on steam though).  

Snack World

I was shocked upon starting Snack World as it is instantly incredibly charming, witty, and downright hilarious at times yet I heard almost zero people talk about it. EVER. This game is Dragon Quest levels of quirky though, and the localization is incredible. The game has such an oddball sense of humor that works really well with its presentation right down to the anime opening video that sings about the most bizarre things. Instead of the usual pump up song about the cool adventure ahead we get stuff like wanting to go out to a restaurant and eat pork chops. 

The self aware/fourth wall breaking humor is just enough to be really funny, but doesn't overstay its welcome and always makes it work right in the context of the dialogue. And finally, just everything; with the menus, the name of side quests and missions, and the character dialogue -- are all just so witty and full of quirky humor. This is one hell of a charming and funny game and addictive to boot.

Trials of Mana

Trials of Mana has gone from one of those legendary unlocalized games, to one of the first major breakthroughs in fan translation, to finally getting an official English release complete with a fully 3D remake. In a lot of ways from a western perspective this game has had an incredible journey. As for this remake itself, I really found myself having tons of fun with it. I loved the graphics, and the voice acting while a bit on the cheaper side almost kind of adds to the charm since both the graphics and acting really give it an old PS2 vibe. I know that is probably just more me being weird but yeah, I had to say it. 

I really hope Square Enix sticks to this style of remake more often, instead of just doing Final Fantasy VII Remakes that break the bank and involve extensive tweaking to both plot and game play. I’ll take smaller budget projects that play more like the original game any day personally. I wouldn’t mind if they also deliver a brand new Mana game all together in this engine either. 

Utawarerumono Trilogy

This year saw the release of the first entry in the series, Utawarerumono: Prelude to the Fallen--and thus finally after three years since the sequels Utawarerumono: Mask of Deception and Utawarerumono: Mask of Truth came out in 2017 the trilogy is now complete in English. I ended up binging through Prelude to the Fallen very fast shortly after it came out and immediately jumped on to the sequels. Perhaps the best part of 2020 was that I finally played all three of these fantastic games, and did so back-to-back-to-back. Playing the first Utawarerumono was an experience I will never forget, it was like visiting old friends again that I haven’t seen in ages, by and large thanks to the fact that I saw the anime adaption of the game when I was much younger, nearly a decade ago. Back then I would have never of dreamed that I would get to play the actual game and get the real experience. 

And it only got better from here, as all three games are such wonderful experiences from start to finish. The stories are all so deep, and by the time you get to the third entry, Mask of Truth, it’s crazy to see how they all connected over so many years and weaved together into a plot much bigger than they ever were. What carries it beyond all that though has to be the fun and addicting strategy role playing game aspect, which while a bit on the easy side, is still so much fun and helps make the game feel better paced since you get to play the conquests your characters go on and not just read about all the battles they fight. Beyond that the games are packed full of awesome characters, and I know I’ll never forget the amazing leads in all of them. Hakuowlo, Haku, and Oshtor will all go down as some of the greats to me. 

Ys: Memories of Celceta

Ys: Memories of Celceta is a full 3D remake of Ys IV, a rather infamous game in Falcom’s Ys series. Not to get bogged down too much into the history of Falcom but by this point they were facing a lot of hardship and had to outsource this entry to other developers, and thus passed it on to two particular developers they had a business relationship with, creating two unique versions of Ys IV. Tonkin House who had worked on Super Famicom port of Ys III with Falcom ended up creating their own YS IV entry, Mask of the Sun for the very same system, where Hudson soft who had produced the much beloved Ys Books I & II remakes for the Turbografix (PC Engine) CD add-on created their own Ys IV entry Dawn of Ys for that console. Both games followed guidelines and ideas outlined from Falcom themselves but both radically diverged from each other and turned into completely different games. 

Falcom finally putting an end to this debate on which version of Ys IV you should play have gone and created their own definitive Ys IV in 2012 for the Playstation Vita. I played the 2020 remastered version of this remake on my PS4. I even bought this on the Vita when it first came out but I am horrible and only horde games, never play them. So it was a lot of fun to finally play this. 

Memories of Celceta is probably one of the best starting points for anyone looking to get into Ys, especially if you only want to stay with the 3D titles as out of all the 3D entries this explains the most about the world and series protagonist Adol Christian. Beyond that it’s just another fantastic entry in a wonderful series that has a few good twists hidden behind it, especially for long time fans of the series. 

Random Video Game Console Stuff

Xbox Has Blue Dragon: I actually got an Xbox One this year for free from my brother. Because of that I started to play Blue Dragon again and there’s a lot I would love to say about this game. I don’t know if I am fully committed to replaying it all the way through however but I find myself putting in a couple hours every few days and enjoying myself again. Does anyone else remember Blue Dragon? I feel like it really missed its audience and had it come out nowadays and probably for the Switch it would have really resonated with the Dragon Quest fandom a lot more instead of being thrown out to die on Xbox and constantly compared to Final Fantasy VII and the like which it had nothing at all similar with. 

The Turbografx 16 Mini: This was probably one of the best mini consoles that have come out and I feel like thanks to the whole 2020 pandemic thing it was largely forgotten about. That’s a shame, it has a wonderful variety of great games, especially if you count the Japanese ones (god I wish I could play the Japanese version of Snatcher included), and a wonderful interface with fantastic music. One of these days I would really like to be able to play around with the console more seriously than I have already. 

Fire Emblem Shadow Dragon Never Existed: So Nintendo localized the first ever Fire Emblem game on Nintendo Switch which is awesome to see them touching Famicom games again--I haven’t seen Nintendo of America rerelease old Famicom titles since Mysterious Murasame Castle on the 3DS, but their trailer hilariously made it seem like this is the first time ever they released Fire Emblem when in fact they had already localized the remake Shadow Dragon on the Nintendo DS nearly 10 or 11 years ago. I and many other fans I talked to all found this really hilarious, probably solely because of how much they kept repeating the fact that this is the first time you will ever be able to experience Marth’s story.

All that aside though I have to say the collector edition for this newly localized Famicom game is probably the most gorgeous retro reproduction I have seen in a long time, and I really spent many many hours just staring at the all clear glass mock cartridge. I have found myself really obsessing over retro reproductions during 2020, and obtained quite a few this year. I really hope this trend continues to go on in 2021 as recreating classic console packaging and cartridges is a lot of fun. 

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Fourteen: The One With Her Brother

Warnings: Mention of childbirth

Word Count: 2644

The cool air around the waiting room shrouded a twelve-year-old blonde by the name of Lily Osborne. Wrapped in her cardigan-covered arms was a five-year-old Rose, the younger sister of the eldest Osborne. Just to the right of her sat two conservative grandparents, only moments away from learning if their third grandchild from their daughter would be a girl or boy. So far, the two had only been gifted with granddaughters, two from their other son William, and two from their daughter, Alicia, the mother of the two girls awaiting their newest sibling. Lily had already been through the grief of a new sibling with the little girl that sat in her arms, but it sadly didn't transfer over to the second blonde born from Alicia and Abel Osborne.

The small creek of a door just beside the many uncomfortable chairs stationed behind a small half wall and all four of the family member’s blonde heads popped up. Lo and behold though, it was merely a group of nurses seemingly leaving from their shift. Four collective sighs created harmony throughout the robin egg blue maternity wing waiting room. A heavier head leaned back onto her shoulder and Lily placed a gentle kiss on the bright blonde curls that sat atop of Rose's young head like a mop. Glancing down, Lily saw her little sister’s eyes flutter shut and she let out a gentle sigh, running her fingers up and down the child's thin arms. Just moments later, however, the doors opened once again and a panting Abel Osborne came shooting out with a bright smile plastered on his rugged features.

"Do you guys want to come to meet your new baby brother?"

-----

For as long as Lily could remember, being Cedar's older sister was one of her most sacred pride of joys. Or just being an older sister in general. Especially being so much older than the younger two. Her parents were amazing, sure, and they always did their best with raising the three children. But when it came down to more personal issues and handling things like bullying, friends, or middle school, Lily was their go-to. And she cherished that fact. It was like having her own child, but without a majority of the responsibilities, the mother faced. It helped scratch that maternal itch Lily had since a baby.

Whenever her parents weren't able to, Lily walked Rose and Cedar to school. She was even his emergency contact for high school after their parents, same with Rose. when Cedar began high school, Lily was in her last year of university before beginning med school and handling a one-year-old baby boy and an unhelpful husband, she travelled down to Long Island with Hunter, and joined Cedar for his orientation day when their parents were on a business trip. Everyone thought she was his mother, and the two made a bit of a joke out of it.

Just below a year before that, when Lily and Scott were scrambling together a wedding, it was Cedar who had helped her choose a wedding dress that made her feel beautiful, even while she was four months along in her pregnancy. She was tempted to try and convince Scott to elope, feeling as though she wouldn't find a dress that gave her that moment that made her face light up when she saw herself in the mirror. Luckily, Cedar helped her achieve it.

-----

She didn't want to go, really. It was the last place on earth that Lily wanted to be. Every morning when she looked in the mirror she felt huge. She thought her thighs were getting too big. That her cheeks were getting larger and she felt puffy. All because of the beautiful life growing inside of her. It wasn't her fault. She was four months along in the pregnancy she was handling at the age of 22, all while planning a fairly rushed and impromptu wedding to the father of her unborn child. Even though, if she would admit it to herself, she knew deep down this wouldn't work, and that he wasn't good for her. But she'd never say it out loud.

But today, well, today she just felt awful.

Today was the day that she would be picking a wedding dress. After a whole week of yelling at Lily, her fiancé, Scott, managed to get her to drop the idea of eloping, and instead, funnelling money into a wedding. On top of handling pregnancy and her last year of university. Lily had originally planned to handle this feat alone, feeling self-conscious about having anyone else there. But with her parents and brother now living in her basement, with her brother staying with them over the summer before he would go back to Long Island and stay with his grandparents until Lily gave birth, and their parents would move back home, well...her brother was the only one she couldn't get to stay at her home when she went out.

The boy had just turned 11 and was a pretty stereotypical pubescent boy. But with a much closer relationship with his sister than most kids with the age gap that the two had. Lily depended a great deal on her relationships with her siblings, for she never really talked or even spent time with girls or boys her age outside of school when she was younger. Of course, moving to New York City and over the past few years, she had expanded her bubble.

As the youngest and oldest Osborne sibling arrived at the quaint wedding dress shop in Soho, Lily wished to turn around and avoid any sort of questions about the growing bump that was prevalent on her stomach. Being at this store was the last place Lily wanted to be spending her Saturday afternoon. But alas, the tug of a boy’s hand on her sleeve persuaded the blonde to enter the shop alongside him.

After answering dreadful pregnancy questions from the shop owner, Lily had found the dress. But her hands cupped the growing belly of hers, and those green eyes grew sad as she looked in the mirror. The dress was a spaghetti strap, heart-shaped neckline, lace flower decals dancing across the organza type material, and sliding from her waist in an a-line style. it was loose, flowing, and hid any real evidence of a pregnancy. But Lily knew. She knew what was growing inside of her. What she would look like within two months when the wedding would be taking place. Her stomach even more swollen.

Cedar slowly stood from the couch and walked towards his older sister, taking her hand and looking up at her with the eyes that made Lily realize just how lucky she was. And with a shy nod towards the owner, Lily had found her dress. All thanks to the young blonde boy she called a brother. And those soft eyes.

-----

Ten years later, the two were still as close as ever. Or so she believed. He stood at her wedding party at her and Scott’s wedding when she was twenty-two. He was there when she gave birth to Hunter. God, she remembered the day she went into labour so vividly. And the boy who had informed her distracted parents, and who pushed through the labour alongside his sister, before the actual birth began. She remembered that day so vividly.

-----

Her hand gripped onto the pen she was using to take notes from her online lecture. Being the top student so far in her first year at Medical School had its perks. The professor's offered her online lectures and videos, while she handled the pregnancy. Her brother and parents had taken over the basement, as they came down from Long Island to take care of their daughter, who was very obviously in a neglectful marriage. The cool winds of November whispered secret thoughts to Lily, the window of her office allowing them in.

As Lily went to finish off a note about the fetus in a woman growing, her own decision to take a different approach. A popping deep within her set off a relay of gasps as water trickled down her leg, staining the loose dress she wore over top of her swollen stomach. her hand smacked itself across her lips as a small squeak escaped from her throat. A pair of footsteps ran themselves into the office, catching Lily's eyes as he spotted the water dripping down onto the floor.

"Mom! Dad! Start the car! Lily's water broke!" Cedar exclaimed, holding onto his sister’s hand. The same hand he'd be holding for the next few hours.

—————

Maybe it was the feelings of betrayal that hit Lily the hardest. Before her then sat one of the most important people in her life, handcuffed to a table, waiting to be interrogated by police officers for attempting to break into her ex-husband’s apartment where her child sat, scared to death of the somewhat familiar tone of voice. Or it may have been the disgust that churned deep within her stomach as she came to the realization this was not the same sweet and innocent boy she had last seen a mere few weeks ago when visiting her parents. A boisterous and somewhat playful smile far gone from his face that was now carved full of deep stress lines, with bruises evident on the thin skin below his eyes. This wasn't Cedar Osborne. This was a mere shell of him.

"Sir there must be some sort of mistake," Lily laughed softly, gesturing towards the glass, "That's my brother he would...he would never hurt my son or try to. He's a nice kid how would he—"

"Ms. Osborne, I know this is a shock but this is the man that was caught trying to break into your ex-husband’s apartment." The detective said in a calm tone, "He confessed to it. We just can't get any evidence as to why he may have done it out of him...which is why we called you."

Lily stared at the man in front of her. Her crossed arms dropped to her sides as a look of pure shock took over her previous exasperated and confused face. He wanted her to interrogate her own brother? Try and get him to confess information about a crime he tried to commit against her son. Why Lily wanted nothing more than to smack the living daylights out of the police officer. But then again nowadays she has had this happen often.

"You did not just ask me that!?" Lily exclaimed, "He is my brother, and I know my brother, officer. There has to be a mistake. There has to be! And until you figure out what that is I will not be questioning the same boy that sat by my side at my son’s birth when my husband wouldn't. He is not capable of this. My son is the most important thing to that man and you dare think that he would scare him?" Lily exclaimed, chest heaving.

The officer fell silent. The look in his eyes said it all: he knew this woman wouldn't be interrogating this man. With a curt nod, the police officer spread his arm to guide Lily from the room. Her shoulders moved up and down at a rapid pace as she stormed from the building, her heart racing inside of her chest and pounding in her ears so loudly she couldn't even hear the loud noises from the New York streets. Typically, Lily would wait for an opportunity to cross the sidewalk to her car, but today, she bulldozed through the group of people, fumbling for her keys. The moment the ignition turned on, the tears fell.

The tears ran down her face non-stop as she drove through the streets of New York. Sobs wracked her body as she continued to shake. Lily had no way of comprehending the fact that her own brother was the culprit arrested for attempting to break into her ex-husbands home. Sure it was known that the entire family had a distaste towards Scott Harvey, but the Osborne's were a far from violent family. Docile and subservient almost. It was only when Lily pulled into her driveway when a memory fell on her like a ton of bricks.

-----

'Here Comes Santa Clause' played over the speakers as the Osborne family bustled around the cozy home of Lily's parents’ home. Children played and adults laughed over wine as the previously mentioned woman and her brother slaved away in front of the stove as they prepared Christmas dinner. The two quietly chatted while working on their respective side dish, patiently waiting for the turkey in the oven to finish so they can begin to eat.

"Hey, how's work been going for you?" Lily hummed, working her arm as she continued to mash potatoes.

"Oh yeah," Cedar responded in a gentle tone, "I actually just left the company." he continued, failing to elaborate to Lily as to why on earth he would have left the job as an electrician at a power company that supplied most of Long Island's power.

"Really?" the eldest Osborne huffed, halting her movements and turning to her younger brother, "What happened to your dream of being an electrician?" she wondered, head tilting to the side a bit.

"Offered a different job, better pay," he stated abruptly, turning his back to Lily as he finished mashing the yams that he had been working on.

"I see...where are you now?"

"Dinner's ready!" Cedar yelled, ignoring his sister’s question and pulling the freshly finished turkey from the oven.

-----

Lily felt her heart sink as she recounted the events of the Christmas that had just passed close to a year ago. Her hand slapped itself over her mouth as she came to the realization that her sweet and innocent brother may have very well found himself in a sticky situation. Her mind ran to the worst place she could think of...what if he was working for a hitman agency? No that couldn't be right. HE may be sneaky but Cedar wouldn't be capable of murder.

Shaking her head, Lily pulled her hair back from her face and allowed her breathing to regulate itself once more. God, she felt like everything she knew to be normal was crumbling around her. Everything that she had become accustomed to was falling to pieces and there was nothing she could even do about it. If Cedar was getting invested in solicit and illegal activities, Lily knew she would be the last person he would admit it to. The two had a relationship based on kindness and loyalty...and it broke the blonde's heart, the idea of her baby brother falling into the traps of something horrible.

Stepping from the car, the cool and brisk air of the season chilled the raging heat the flared in Lily's face. Locking her car, the young mother unlocked her front door to hear music playing and the dog going wild. Furrowing her eyebrows and stepping out of her shoes, the blonde made her way down the hall towards the living room where the loud noises were coming from. When she rounded the corner, the sight made all of the pain and sorrow she was just wallowing in mere moments ago fade into distant memories.

Hunter was stationed on Bucky's back as they flailed around to an outdated Justin Bieber song that the blonde boy sang at the top of his lungs, igniting the howls of Joey. With a giggle, Lily dropped her coat and bag and made her way towards the pair, joining in on the singing and dancing. For once, Lily allowed herself to step away from the burden of anxiety and enjoy the moment in front of her.

Her eyes locked with Bucky and she knew, that maybe, just maybe, things could work out.

[songfell-ut]

Rrrrrrgh Chapter 18 rrrrgh

I had to re-insert EVERY GODDAMN LINE BREAK ARGH it also took out all the italics. I’ll get those in a minute ;_;

(Watch out for arachnophobia, angst, aaaaand smut~~)

           For the eighth or ninth time, Frisk wished she had just said no. But she hadn’t, and she couldn’t back out now, so she kept walking, arms stiff at her sides.

At least she was almost there: she could hear rustling in the dark up ahead, and faintly musical sounds, like someone twanging a piano wire. Suddenly, her heel stuck on something, her shoe nearly coming off; the next moment, something else tickled her cheek. When she tried to brush it away, it wouldn’t come off her fingers. In the dim light, it looked like…a spiderweb?

           There was a high-pitched giggle overhead, and more webbing dropped onto her shoulders. The child was yanked off her feet, pulled straight up until she slammed to a teeth-rattling stop in midair. Heart pounding, head spinning, Frisk tried to tug herself loose, but it was no use: she was caught in the bouncy, gluey strands of…

…a really, really big spiderweb. And where there was a really big spiderweb—

           “Ahuhuhu~”

           Frisk turned her head as far as she could, and uttered a raspy sound as her gaze met five huge, mirror-shiny black eyes. It was a spider monster in frilly bloomers, ribbons, and pigtails—surprisingly cute, except for its fangs. “My! Whatever do we have here?” The giant spider leaned in closer, and Frisk watched in fascination as her reflection flickered in time with the monster’s blinks. “What brings a bite-sized human like you to my parlor?”

           The child couldn’t tear her eyes away from the spider monster’s eerie, fluid movements. It was balancing on the web, brushing crumbs off its sleeve, and dipping a pastry into a cup of tea it’d just poured for itself, all at once! “A-Are you Muffet?” she squeaked.

           The spider smirked, nibbling daintily on her pastry. “That’s me, dearie. Did someone send you to find me?” Her face creased into a scowl. “If that skeleton told you it would be funny to disturb us, I swear I’ll—”

           Something chittered, and Frisk couldn’t help squirming. Muffet gasped as a tiny shape emerged from the child’s collar. “Alphonse? Oh my goodness me! How did you get here?!”

           Frisk shut her eyes tight as the little spider crawled the rest of the way out of her shirt, followed by another, and a few more, and then what seemed like a thousand others. She could feel a tickly procession streaming up her neck and along her arms onto the web, where they swarmed around Muffet, making rapid clicking sounds.

           “They gave me a piece of paper asking for help,” the human explained, though the spiders were probably saying the same thing. “They were tired of the Ruins, but Snowdin is too cold, and it’s too expensive to get a heated carriage, so I gave some of them a ride to Hotland.”

           All five of Muffet’s eyes sparkled, and she clasped two legs in pure joy. “Oh, what a sweet little morsel you are! You’ve saved us thousands of g, just like that!” Frisk heard more chittering, and found herself being eased free of the webbing and lowered gently until she was back on the sticky floor. “I’m so sorry if I frightened you, dearie—most humans have a nasty habit of squishing spiders, but I didn’t know how very kind you were toward us!”

           “You’re welcome,” Frisk said, trying to pick the webbing out of her hair. The grownups had chopped almost all of it off before they left the castle; she’d hate for them to cut the webs out and make it look even worse. “My name is Kris. It’s nice to meet you.”

           The spider-lady was ignoring her, listening to what sounded like dozens of little voices at once. She didn’t have eyebrows, but her upper three eyes wiggled in almost the same way. “Really, now?” She regarded Frisk with new interest. “You wouldn’t happen to be ten years old, would you, dearie?”

           Where had that come from? None of the other monsters had asked her age. “Um…yes? I don’t know my real birthday, just the year.”

           The spiders must have understood her, because the noise increased, and Muffet tittered louder than ever. “How interesting~”

           “Why?” the child couldn’t help asking.

           “Ohhh, nothing, just a bit of gossip.” Muffet hopped onto a higher strand of webbing, crossing a pair of legs and pouring herself more tea. “Would you like something to eat?” She indicated a table with a pile of iced cakes and a sign reading 9,999 G. “No charge, just for you.”

           Was that a spider leg sticking out of the frosting? “I’m full, thank you,” Frisk lied.

           “Suit yourself, dearie.” For someone without any lips, the monster could slurp her tea quite loudly. “The spider clans don’t communicate with each other nearly as often as we should, but when someone manages to get here from the Ruins, they tell the most fascinating stories. Like the humans’ last visit here, eleven years ago—did you know that your King came with them? Supposedly, it was a group of minor nobles discussing repairs to the border fence, but no one notices spiders – except you, of course – and they hear all sorts of things behind closed doors~”

           The child frowned. “The King was here?” She didn’t think he’d ever been to the Underground; she’d just been glad he hadn’t come on this trip, though she was sorry the Queen was sick. It would’ve been so nerve-wracking to have to behave around him!

           “He certainly was.” Muffet licked a drop of tea from the fine hairs on her forelimb. “Yes, the King paid us a secret visit, and poor Chara was never the same afterwards. There was quite a commotion, you know, after he’d been gone a little while. They had to take her all the way to the Ruins so no one would hear her s—”

           There was a familiar chuckle behind Frisk. “ahh, muffet. putting the spy in ‘spider,’ huh?” Sans held out his hand, and Frisk gladly took it. “yeah, i dunno what she’s talking about, either. c’mon, kiddo, you shouldn’t be here. time to have a ferry good ride back.”

           “On the contrary,” Muffet said haughtily, “this wonderful child is welcome in my parlor any time. I would love to have her over for lunch!” Two sets of arms clapped their hands. “Go on home, dearie. Come and see me again sometime soon.”

           “man. you got a knack for making friends, ya know that?” Sans remarked as they stepped around the webs lining the floor. “i didn’t think she liked anyone who wasn’t rich, or fattening.”

           Frisk didn’t answer. The corridor had just enough bare, echoing surfaces for her to hear the last of Muffet’s conversation. “Not a word to anyone,” the spider was telling her family, or minions, or whatever they were. “I—what? …Why, yes, he would pay for that information. What a splendid idea! We could even give him a discount! Those glasses are so cute~”

           Frisk and Sans looked at each other, shrugged, and moved along to thinking up spider puns to unleash on Pap. It didn’t occur to Frisk until much later that Muffet had said “her”—the smaller ones hadn’t gotten that far under her clothes, had they?

Ah, well. She figured spiders must not know much about human pronouns, and they probably said strange, random things to everyone. It was nothing to worry about.

           Many years later, Frisk would remember that and wish she could smack her younger self upside the head. Not only was it racist, it was very incorrect, not to mention ungrateful. Spiders knew damn well what pronouns were, and nothing Muffet had said to her was random. She hadn’t even charged her for it…

 ~

             The hotel attached to Mettaton’s resort was unbelievably crowded that evening, the air warm and full of amazing smells. Sans had materialized by the fountain in the lobby, figuring it was long enough after dinnertime that there wouldn’t be too many people around. This turned out to be hilariously wrong: the line was still two or three deep at the food counter, the queue winding up and down the room and ending nearly out the doors. There wasn’t enough space for one boss monster to just appear out of nowhere, much less two, but here they were.

“My. Do you think they’ve gotten a room?” Toriel asked dubiously, releasing his arm and nodding to the monsters scrambling out of their way. “Should we check with the front desk?”

Sans glanced around, then relaxed and let his SOUL point him in a direction, like giving a hunting dog a scent to follow. Sure enough, his feet started toward the restaurant on the left side of the resort. “This way,” he grunted.

Luckily, at their size, they didn’t have much trouble getting through the crowd. Nor did they have to say anything to the restaurant’s maître d’: he took one look, bowed so deeply that he almost fell over, and walked ahead of them to harass the seated monsters out of their way.

They soon reached the far end of the room, where Frisk was holding court at a small table with Alphys, Undyne, Mettaton, and a few others. To Sans’ delight, she had perched on the back of a heavy chair, confidently projecting her voice over the other diners. “So I finished the introduction, she came out onstage, and what did she do? She froze right there in front of everyone,” the human said, gesturing with her champagne glass.

This got quite a reaction. “Oh, please,” Mettaton said with a groan.

“Ha!” Undyne thumped the table. “Served her right! What’d you do?”

“I peeked out from behind the curtain, and I looked at her, and I went—” Frisk closed one eye and opened the other as wide as possible, flashing a demented smile, and the monsters cracked up. “She almost started laughing, and it was perfect, because that was where the Queen was bragging about how much everyone loved her!”

“Good evening, everyone,” said Toriel, walking ahead of Sans to join the others. “Forgive me, but, what was this?”

Cries of welcome rang out. “Good evening, Lady Toriel! I was telling them about my friend Mathilda,” explained Frisk.

Standing on the periphery, Sans drank in the sight of his human seated among the monsters, looking adorably tiny by comparison, but completely at home. She was more animated than he’d ever seen her at the castle, her eyes bright and hands in constant motion as she talked. It was everything they’d both hoped for when they came here.

And speaking of drinks, he also had to note all the open bottles of wine and other adult beverages around the table. He remembered ordering several crates of them, but he’d assumed they would be consumed at a slower rate than this; monsters couldn’t handle alcohol as well as most humans. Come to think of it, neither could Frisk.

Mettaton had gotten up to greet Toriel, and was bowing her into his seat; Sans was impressed with his manners until the automaton turned and shooed Alphys out of her chair so he could take it.

Justice came swiftly: Undyne waited for Mettaton to get comfortable, then kicked him under the table hard enough to make a metallic clang. “Never mind him. Here,” she said to Alphys, holding her arm out and patting her lap.

Toriel cleared her throat, and the scientist turned about five shades of reddish-orange. Practical as ever, Undyne got up to grab a chair from another table instead, ignoring its irate former occupant and cramming it between her seat and Frisk’s. “Ta-da!”

When Alphys was happily settled, Toriel gave the automaton and the Royal Guard Captain reproachful glances. “Your friend Mathilda?” she prompted.

Frisk smiled. “Yes, from St. Brigid’s. She wanted me to narrate the part of the spring pageant where she was playing the Queen—have you heard of The Sun Cycle?”

Toriel accepted a glass of red wine from the waiter. “The allegory about the two sisters? Of course. Did Mathilda have a case of stage fright?”

“Right after she spent ten minutes straight telling me not to be shy.” Frisk made another face. “I teased her about that for years.”

Toriel chuckled. “And rightfully so.”

Sans was busy staring at Frisk when she suddenly looked straight at him. “Sans?” He jumped, then scowled self-consciously as she shifted her weight. “I hate to make you stand there—is there anywhere he can sit?” she asked the group.

There was a general murmur and scooting-out to make room, but Sans waved his hand. “Nah, don’t worry about it. ‘s what I get fer bein’ late to the party,” he muttered.

The priestess frowned a little. “Well, if you’re sure…” She indicated a green jug on the table. “You wanted to try some hard cider, didn’t you? Now’s your chance.”

“’m fine,” he said gruffly, and she gave him a short nod before Mettaton reclaimed her attention with a question about human seating etiquette.

Sans wanted to smack himself on the cranium. Typical Frisk: she was mad at him, but still didn’t want him be to left out. Well, neither did he! It physically hurt to keep himself from going over and petting her hair, tucking that one bit behind her ear, asking how she was feeling…

Yeah, this whole staying-apart thing wasn’t fucking working. If he couldn’t have some time alone with her soon, he was going to throw her over his shoulder and teleport them both far, far away, which would probably look a little suspicious. What would it take to—

Alphys coughed. “S-So did the rest of the pageant go all right?”

Frisk sipped her champagne. “Oh, yes. I’ve always loved that story, and I didn’t have to be onstage, so I—” She paused and held the empty glass out, and another waiter swooped in to refill it. “Thank you.” Sip. “It was wonderful. We had a five-piece orchestra playing along, and the Queen’s song, ‘Daylight’s Lament,’ actually brought people to tears.”

Sans wasn’t thinking very straight, or else he would known better than to say, “Is that the mopey thing you’re always singin’?”

Everyone turned toward him, and he shrank back at the priestess’ expression. “Are you a musician, Frisk?” Toriel asked around her refilled wineglass.

“Yes, I was in the choir at school,” the human said, giving Sans a significant look. “The Sun Cycle had just been adapted into a musical, and we all nagged our teachers until they let us perform it.” She grinned ruefully. “It was the best political training I’ve ever had. If you want to delve into the darkest side of human nature, just tell a group of teenage girls that only one of them gets to play the Queen.”

They all laughed, though no one disagreed. “And Mathilda got it?” Sans asked, just to contribute.

“Yes, she did,” Frisk replied. Her feet swung back and forth a few times, drawing his attention again. “She tends to get what she wants.”

Trying to distract himself, Sans remembered something and asked, “Isn’t she the one who’s gonna replace you?” They looked at him in surprise, and he added, “Y’know, if you ever decide ta quit?”

That earned him another glare. “Yes, if I ever do. The only reason I became High Priestess and not her was that my magic was stronger. Otherwise, she’d have been perfect.”

“Now, now. I would think—no, I know that you’re doing an excellent job,” Toriel said warmly, and the priestess ducked her head.

“Wait a sec.” Undyne banged her mug on the table, startling Alphys. “Didn’t you say somebody tried to kill you ‘cause you’re the High Priestess? Aren’t you worried someone’ll come after her, too?”

“Well…not really.” Frisk made a complicated gesture. “It may sound cold, but you’ve never met Mathilda. She doesn’t have time to be assassinated. If the Church didn’t pay for a half-dozen guards everywhere she went, she’d just hire them herself and go about her day.”

“Nice,” said Undyne, but despite Frisk’s light tone, Sans wasn’t so sure about the way she was frowning into her champagne glass. Did she feel guilty for being so cavalier about her friend’s safety?

…No, that wasn’t it. He had a sudden attack of insight: Frisk wasn’t only in danger because she was the High Priestess; she was also in the way of people who profited off monsters. Did Mathilda have different views on the subject – maybe more safe or conventional ones – that would keep her from being targeted?

What about the person who had paid to keep Frisk safe? He still had to tell her about that, too, assuming he ever got the fucking chance!

That was enough of that topic. What else could they talk about? “How’d it go in the lab today, Al?” he asked.

This time, they all looked at him as though he’d thrown dog turds onto the table, and a couple of the other monsters actually got up and left. His stupid, tired, frustrated mind took a second to catch up: everyone knew that Alphys had been testing Frisk’s magic, and as much as they liked and hopefully trusted the human by now, they didn’t want to hear about her barriers.

“Um…” Alphys fidgeted with her mug of spiced cider. “You were r-right. I couldn’t even quantify how much f-force she could potentially withstand. It’s honestly still hard to believe.”

“Yeah, it turns out she’s even better than we thought,” Undyne said defiantly, and raised her mug. “Toast: to Frisk being on our side!”

Frisk raised her glass in reply, downing the rest of the champagne in one gulp, and everyone with a drink quickly followed suit. As the waiter came back for more refills, Sans nodded his thanks to Undyne; she stared at him, then drew her thumb across her throat to indicate that he was dead. He shrugged, agreeing that that was fair.

Alphys fidgeted again. “Actually, Sans, I’d like to t-talk to you about that sometime soon. Alone, m-maybe?”

The skeleton blinked. “Uh…okay.” Now that a few chairs were empty across from Frisk, he walked over to shove them aside and sit down on the floor, putting his eye level only a foot or two below the others. Why would Alphys need to talk to him alone? If she wanted more data, why not include Frisk? He’d have to find out later.

Undyne scowled, half-turning to drape her arm over Alphys’ shoulders; the lizard monster turned a few more colors, then leaned into her. Good for them, thought Sans, with only a twinge of jealousy. “I remember when I was a kid and I used to snoop around in my parents’ room,” Undyne continued. “My mom got fed up and told me there was a human hiding in her closet. Not only did I stop sneaking in there, I’d run past their door to get to my room!”

Sans forced himself to join in the laughter. “Poor Pap,” he remarked. “When he was a kid, I got him that pirate bed, and he wouldn’t stop jumpin’ on it in the middle of the night. I didn’t wanna take it away, so I said there was a human under it ‘n Pap was gonna wake him up.”

“Sans,” Frisk scolded him, but she was smiling now.

“It’s true,” he said gleefully. “The next night, I found him makin’ a decoy to throw into bed so he could go hide in the closet.”

Undyne guffawed, and Toriel shook her head, though she was also smiling. “That poor child! Tell me he isn’t still sleeping in the closet, Sans!”

“He’s not. I made a big deal about talkin’ with the librarian and finding out humans are scared of books about Fluffy Bunny. We read one every night from then on, and whaddya know? The human never got ‘im,” the skeleton said proudly.

They laughed again, and the last of the tension dissipated. “Speakin’ of Papyrus, where is he?” Sans asked, feeling guilty for not noticing sooner. “Hope I didn’t miss ‘im on his way home.”

Mettaton couldn’t drink, so he had spent most of the conversation checking his face paint; he sighed theatrically, putting the mirror away in his chest compartment. “He got drunk already, the poor dear. I sent him upstairs to sleep it off.”

Sans didn’t have to fake a grin. “Makes sense. It only takes half a mudslide to get him started tellin’ everyone how bad my jokes are, and tellin’ the jokes ta prove it, and then gettin’ mad that he knows all my jokes by heart.”

“A ‘mudslide’?” Frisk repeated.

“Yep. ’s one of Grillby’s finest cocktails: magic ‘n mud.”

The human looked puzzled. “By ‘mud,’ you mean…?”

“Wet dirt,” Sans clarified.

“…You…drink…?” Frisk couldn’t bring herself to finish the sentence. “What does that even taste like?”

Pause. “Mud.”

More laughter. Frisk’s nose was wrinkled, but she was still smiling; that was enough for Sans.

He didn’t want to ruin the mood by saying something else stupid, so he nodded to her and turned to survey the now-half-empty room. It must have been pretty late, because the maître d’ wasn’t letting anyone else in. The nearest table had just one person, and—

It was sitting there, out of nowhere, legs dangling over the side of the table. The demon-child locked eyes with Sans, hands resting on the knife in its lap, and it grinned.

Sans stared back at it, paralyzed. Through the fog of shock and terror, there arose a single thought: Are you fucking serious?! I don’t need this right now!

The thing shook its head. It looked meaningfully at their table – at Frisk – and back at him. It raised the kitchen knife, pointing at the side of its own head, and made a circling motion.

Sans managed to twitch with sheer rage as he recognized that childish gesture. The little bastard had come all the way here to tell him Frisk was crazy?

Its grin faded into a faint, superior smile. It lowered the knife and tapped on its sternum three times. Then it shifted around to face the human; to Sans’ bewilderment, it sat cross-legged and leaned forward on its elbows, ruby eyes glued to Frisk, as if waiting for a play to begin.

What was it doing? …Why was it doing? He had the feeling that it genuinely wasn’t interested in him for the moment. What did it think Frisk was going to—

“Sans?” Her voice snapped him out of it; the skeleton found he could move again. “What’s the matter?”

“Uh…” He looked at her, then back at the demon. It was gone now, of course. “Nothin’.” He glanced back and forth a couple of times just to be sure. What the hell was that about? The thing wanted to tell him that Frisk was nuts and Sans should check her SOUL? But…

Sans shook himself, turning to size up the room. Everyone was slightly to moderately tipsy, but relaxed, probably ready to call it a night soon. There was absolutely no sign of danger anywhere; even if there was, Sans couldn’t imagine a threat too big for him, Toriel, Undyne, and Frisk.

To hell with that thing. He wasn’t going to ogle her SOUL for no reason in front of everyone; somebody would notice and give him crap for it, she’d get embarrassed, and he’d have yet another thing to make up to her.

Toriel took a bottle of wine directly from a passing waiter and poured herself another glass. “Where are you staying tonight, my child?”

           The human brushed her hair behind her ear. Sans glanced at her, and his spine stiffened: she was looking right at him, her finger tracing the edge of her choker. “My things are still at Sans and Papyrus’ house, so I was planning to stay in Snowdin tonight at the inn.”

The skeleton tried to hide his sudden jubilation. She was telling him she’d have her own room, which meant some damn privacy at last! He’d have a chance to tell her things and apologize for being stupid about the chessboard, and then…choker, and—

           “Whaaat? You have an entire new wardrobe upstairs, and you want to go all the way back to that smelly wasteland?” Mettaton complained. Sans gritted his teeth as the automaton reached over to play with Frisk’s hair, sweeping it up with one gloved hand. “You know, darling, if you’d let me put this up for you, it wouldn’t keep getting in your way. Why don’t you stay here another night so we can figure it out?”

           “I’ll be fine, thank you,” Frisk said tartly, pushing his arm away.

           Mettaton pouted. “But what about—”

           “She said no, dipshit,” Sans snarled. “Not everyone has time to play dress-up.”

“Oh?” drawled the automaton. He sized up the giant skeleton and flashed a literally pearly-white smile. “I see. Well, if she absolutely must stop in at your hovel, be sure she has everything she needs. You know, her clothes, a few midnight snacks…plenty of socks?”

Undyne and Alphys nearly spat their drinks across the table. Sans twitched as though he’d been poked in the SOUL—which, in a way, he had. “Ya wanna die, ya friggin’ piece of—”

“Be nice, children,” Toriel mumbled. She covered her mouth for a massive yawn, nearly dropping her wineglass. “Speaking of wardrobes, Frisk, I had enough time after my nap this afternoon to go through Chara’s old clothes. I found several things that should fit you. Why don’t you stay over another night so we can try them on?”

           The human’s face was still red. “No, thank you, Lady Toriel,” Frisk said over the faintest murmur of “Socks” and barely-suppressed snickering.

           The former Queen sighed, too far gone in memory – and alcohol – to notice. “It would be so cute to see you in those dresses,” she murmured. “We can hem them up if we need to. You’re about the same size she was at…goodness, fourteen or fifteen!”

           “Yes, childhood malnutrition will do that.” Frisk accepted yet another refill from yet another waiter. “My mother took no care of me.”

           “You poor thing.” Toriel shook her head. “How I wish you could have stayed and grown up here! We would never have neglected you like that.”

Undyne sighed, propping her head on one fist. “Yeah, that would’ve been amazing.”

Mettaton also sighed, lacing his fingers together and resting his head on them. “For once, darling, we agree. She should know at least five times as many dances as I’ve taught her.”

Toriel hiccuped. Sans had always heard that drunk people did that, but never seen it for himself. “And she could’ve sang for us, too. My poor little angel—such a wonderful child!”

Frisk smiled, until Toriel went on, “Yes, I’ll always miss Chara. Did you ever get to meet her, Frisk?”

           No answer. Sans’ backbone prickled; he checked the other table, but the demon wasn’t there. He glanced at Frisk, and to his alarm, she was almost literally vibrating with tension.

Alphys was also squinting at the human, as if checking her. Whatever she saw made her eyes go wide, and she signaled frantically at Sans. “So, Frisk,” he said, too loud.

She looked up, startled. “Uh,” he said. Crap. Now he had everyone’s attention, and he had to say more words. This time, though, he made himself think first, settling on a topic so safe and dull that nothing bad could possibly come of it. “I just remembered—when I was passin’ stuff out with the Royal Guard earlier, we found a couple small discrepancies in the list,” he said casually. “I made some notes about it. Can you and Tori take a look real quick?”

           “Of course. I’m sure it’s fine, though,” Frisk said, giving him another smile. Then, as he started to reach into his coat for the invoices…

It was the tiniest movement, and he just barely caught it. She took too large a drink and slopped champagne onto the corner of her mouth, which she chose to lick off slowly, eyes on his.

           Sans would think of that moment and berate himself for years afterward. For one thing, he didn’t know or care how openly he was staring at her, or who was watching; more importantly, his hand kept moving while the rest of his mind did a belly-flop into a mire of absolute lust, all his resources suddenly diverted to socks and lace chokers and that cute little mouth…desperation to run his hands all over her again and find out if she still had that weird blood thing going, what her exact criteria were for it being the right time to—

Left to manage on its own, his hand knew only that it was supposed to get something for her out of his pocket. It encountered the papery thing he needed, and then another thing it knew was for her, and dutifully pulled both things out. He didn’t have enough concentration to use magic and send the invoices directly to her, so he tossed them onto the table with a solid thmp. “Pass that t’ Frisk, wouldja?” his mouth said.

A couple shreds of conscious thought worked themselves free, wondering why the papers had gone thmp. Paper wasn’t supposed to go thmp. What had he…

Oh. It was the heavy golden envelope, the one with the King’s letter for her.

           On the table.

…With her full name on the front.

Right by Undyne, who was reaching to pick it up, just like he’d asked.

           Time slowed to a crawl. Icy dread swept over him, and he raised his hand, knowing it was too late—Undyne had handed over the invoices and was already saying, “Heyyy, what’s this, boss?” Before he could stand up or regroup his magic, the Royal Guard Captain flipped the envelope around to read the calligraphy. “Fancy! Is it a love letter for—”

           She stopped. Sans’ SOUL shrank to nothing as the fish monster’s brows drew together. “Hey. Your Majesty?” she asked, raising her voice.

           Toriel finished her drink, trying to set her glass down and missing the table entirely. “Yes, Captain?”

           Undyne gave a puzzled half-smile. “Did you adopt Frisk or something?”

           Frisk looked up from the invoices. The goat monster glanced at her, then chuckled. “Why, no, not that I’m aware of.” Toriel was smiling, too, clearly waiting for a punchline.

           Sans snatched at the envelope with a burst of red magic and shoved it into his pocket. “Hey, Frisk! Guess what? Time ta go!”

           Frisk started, and had to catch herself before she fell off the chair. “What? Why do—”

           “Then how come she has your last name?” asked Undyne.

           Silence. Toriel and Undyne were awkwardly smiling, each waiting for the other to speak and growing more confused as the seconds ticked by.

Alphys frowned, then peered at Frisk, who was staring at the panicky skeleton. “Sans,” the human said softly. “What is she talking about?”

Sans was still sitting on the floor, and couldn’t get up; he felt sick as Frisk stepped down from her perch and came over to him. “What do you have there?” she asked, even softer.

           His hand moved on its own again to pull out the envelope. “’s a letter,” he mumbled. “I was gonna give this to ya later, when we talked about—”

           Frisk snatched the envelope and turned it over. He forced his sockets to stay open as her face went pale, then stark white. Slowly, her head lifted until their eyes met. “I didn’t mean ta get it out yet,” he said helplessly. “It was an accident. I’m—”

           “Where did you get this?” she asked carefully. “When did you get this?”

           “Yesterday. From…from Dr. Serif. He met me in the village to help get all the stuff ready, and the King gave it to ‘im ‘cause he thought you’d be—”

           “This is from my father?” Frisk stared at the dark-gold calligraphy, then at him. Sans just stared back, letting his silence speak for itself.

           Alphys squinted one more time at Frisk’s chest. Then she bolted from her seat, skittered around the table to Mettaton, and latched onto his arm. “You need to get everyone out of here! Right now!” she hissed.

           The automaton quirked a lacquered eyebrow at her. “Are you joking? This is the most—”

           “I said now!”

           Toriel and Undyne watched Mettaton scramble out of his chair, leap straight into the middle of the room, and strike a pose. “Hello, beauties!” he called to the remaining twenty or so diners, giving Alphys a nervous glance. “This is your lucky night! We’re going to have a scavenger hunt, and the prize is me—one candlelit dinner with yours truly! Follow me to Paradise!”

           Alphys breathed a sigh of relief as the monsters trooped out, dragging the waiters and the protesting maître d’ with them, and the doors slammed shut. The royal scientist gestured to Toriel, then Undyne, who had come around to their side of the table. “We should leave, too,” Alphys said urgently.

           “What?” The goat monster frowned at her, and at Frisk, whose shoulders had hunched. “Are you all right, my chi—”

           “Yes!” They jumped as Frisk whipped around, clutching the envelope to her breast, giving them a dreadful smile. “Yes. Yes, I…I’m fine. I just need to—” She gulped. “Never mind. I have to talk to Sans.” She held her hand out. “Let’s go.” He didn’t move, and she said desperately, “Now? Please?”

           A tiny quiver of fear ran through him, and not just because he, personally, was in an absolute world of shit. He could feel the air around Frisk grow heavier, and for the first time in a long time, his instincts were urging him to back away. Her magic was building rapidly, as if she was getting a barrier ready, but she wasn’t doing it on purpose. What did she—

Oh, crap. Not only were they Underground, where magic was naturally stronger than above, she was already at least a little drunk, and tired, and…well, “upset” would not begin to cover the fallout of his slip-up. Was Alphys worried something would happen? But…

Just to be sure, Sans took a long look at Frisk’s SOUL. For a second, he thought something was wrong with his vision, or he was just out of practice; then he realized that, for once, he was not the problem.

Her SOUL was a goddamn mess. It shone as bright and beautifully red as when he’d first seen it, but where it had been rock-solid with determination, it now looked more like a snowglobe that kept getting shaken up before the glitter had a chance to settle. Magic was seeping through her skin and beginning to tint the air around her, and if she was aware of it, she wasn’t even trying to control it.

Fuck. Alphys had been smart enough to keep an eye on Frisk’s SOUL when she started getting agitated about Chara—had the scientist noticed some instability when she was testing the human’s magic? Either way, she’d been scared enough to have Mettaton clear the room.

But it wasn’t as if the monsters should be scared of Frisk, was it? Sure, she seemed pretty volatile right now, but she was still Frisk! She would never hurt anyone! At least, not on purpose…

Sans couldn’t help glancing at the other table. Sure enough, the demon-child was back, grinning and clapping its hands in sheer delight. “Told you so,” it said gaily.

           Undyne coughed. “Uh…Frisk? Why’d your dad call you that?”

           Frisk gestured one more time, and Sans made himself look at her hand with a grim, apologetic shake of his head. His SOUL wanted to tear loose and go hide at the way her face contorted. “You’ve gotta calm down, kid,” he said quietly. He didn’t know how to explain in front of everyone that her magic was too thick for him to teleport her anywhere without touching her, and doing so right now would singe him down to the bone—probably straight through it. “Please,” he added.

           The priestess let her hand drop. She closed her eyes in resignation, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He called me that because I’m illegitimate, and I have to use my mother’s name.”

           Pause. Sans shuffled back a little as Frisk’s eyes opened again, taking in the monsters’ blank faces. “Oh, for God’s sake! Do I need to spell it out for you?” She brandished the envelope at them: FRISK DREEMURR. “That was Chara’s last name, and she was my mother!”

           The world stopped for a moment. Sans watched Toriel, breathless, painfully aware that her reaction was the one that really mattered. If she took Frisk seriously, then the priestess could probably recover her equilibrium and work through some of her feelings. If she didn’t—

           Toriel was frowning in bewilderment. Then…she started to smile, and Sans’ SOUL shrieked in panic: Nonono, don’t do it, don’t—

           The former Queen gave a polite little laugh. “I’m…sorry, my child, but…there must be some mistake.”

           The air crackled, not loud enough yet for the others to hear. Frisk gripped the letter harder, still holding it at arm’s length. “Why do you say that?” she asked, too calm.

           “Well…” Oh, crap. Now Undyne was smiling, too, only stopping when Alphys yanked on her sleeve. “Sorry,” the Captain said, “but c’mon. Chara never even had any kids!”

           “Yeah, she did,” said Sans, and the women looked at him in astonishment. Frisk’s arm fell to her side as he continued, “The humans who visited ‘bout twenty-four years ago had their King with ‘em, and he knocked her up. She hid it till the last second, ‘n then she gave birth in the Ruins so no one would see anything.” He glanced at Toriel. “Right?”

           It was hard to say who was the most shocked. “I thought Chara had me after she left the Underground! You mean I was born here?” demanded Frisk.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!” barked Undyne. She looked at Toriel, whose eyes were huge, hands pressed to her mouth. “I-I mean—” The fish monster turned to Alphys. “Don’t humans get really big and weird when they’re pregnant? Wouldn’t we have noticed something?”

           “Not n-necessarily,” Alphys said, fiddling with her claws faster than ever. “It depends on the individual, and how the baby d-develops. Besides, it’s not as if we had other humans to compare her with. She could’ve just w-worn thick clothes and stayed out of sight.”

“Huh.” Undyne stared at the floor. “Now that you mention it, she did spend a few months cooped up in the house before she left. But—”

           “Where did you hear this, Sans?” None of them had ever heard Toriel sound like that, her gentle voice lowered to an almost bestial snarl. “Who told you?”

           Sans grimaced. “You guys cleared everyone out of the Ruins, but you didn’t get all the spiders. They saw what happened, an’ they heard her tell you who the dad was.”

Toriel’s mouth fell open. “Spiders?”

“Yep. Some of ‘em made it over to Hotland while Kris was here, and they told Muffet, an’ she wound up sellin’ the story to Grillby. I don’t think he ever told anyone else. He just likes knowin’ stuff.” The skeleton scratched the back of his skull. “When I asked him ‘bout Chara the other day, he told me everything. I just never got a friggin’ chance to talk to Frisk about it.”

Another long pause. Was it his imagination, or was the air getting hotter? The priestess was only a few feet away, and though he didn’t have the courage to look at her again, that side of his body was tingling very unpleasantly.

           Toriel’s face had hardened, her arms folded at the waist. “Be that as it may, it proves absolutely no connection between her and Chara.”

God damn it. “No, they didn’t know for a fact that Frisk was her kid. But her age matched up, and a bunch of the spiders who rode with her were right next to her SOUL for a few hours. They said she had a buttload of magic, and it smelled like the Underground—way more than any human’s should.”

“It would explain how she’s so powerful,” mused Alphys. “With the capability to use magic from her f-father’s side, and being c-conceived and gestated here, she probably started accruing it before she was even born. She’s already proven that she can convert a monster’s power for herself, so…”

“Holy shit,” whispered Undyne. “So Chara really did have a kid?”

“Yes, she did,” the former Queen said tightly. “We just thought she was ill and shutting herself away for a while. She didn’t tell us how Stephin had betrayed our hospitality until she was nearly in labor, and she begged us not to tell any of the other monsters.” Toriel was gripping her own sleeves hard enough to puncture the fabric. “We gave her two months to recover, and then Asgore sent them both to Stephin. The baby wasn’t very strong, but Asgore was afraid that if we kept her here, Stephin would think we were holding his child hostage.”

No one answered, and Toriel swallowed hard. “A few weeks later, Chara returned to us in agony. Stephin had just become engaged to another woman, and he refused to break it off. The baby had become sick after leaving the Underground, and when Chara started preparing for the journey back here, she…the child didn’t make it home.” The former Queen wiped her eyes with the side of her hand. “I am sorry, Frisk, but there is no way you could be—”

           “Yes, there is,” Frisk said, sounding oddly detached. “Chara lied to you. I didn’t die—she left me with a wet nurse and paid her to be my foster mother.”

Sans wanted to dive out of the way as Toriel took a step toward the human, Undyne and Alphys also shrinking back. “You mean to tell me,” the goat monster said, deathly quiet, “that my daughter knowingly abandoned her child and deceived her family?”

“Yes. She did.” Frisk was standing firm, but the monsters could see the haze coming off her like a golden mist; Sans traded looks with Undyne, who pulled Alphys closer. “If you really think it’s impossible for me to be Chara’s daughter, why did you ask my exact age?” the human demanded. “Why did you want to know how old I was when I first visited, and why did Asgore ask Sans the very same thing? You knew Chara had had a baby girl ten years before the delegation arrived, and then you found out Kris was a girl. Were you wondering if I was actually—”

           “No!” They flinched at Toriel’s sheer vehemence. She gritted her teeth, trying to control her temper. “It was all Asgore’s fault. When Chara returned to us, he had the temerity to accuse her of lying about her child’s death. He told her she was not welcome unless she brought the baby back with her! Of course we didn’t see her again for ten years!” Smoke drifted from between her fingers as she wiped her eyes again. “I still don’t know how he could have done something so cruel, or how he told you about it, but my only regret is that I ever considered the possibility for a single second! I know you are both wrong!”

           Frisk’s eyes narrowed, and Sans jumped as a golden spark flew in his direction. He quashed the reflex to teleport to safety and stood up, only for Frisk to look around him, as though he wasn’t there. “I haven’t spoken to Asgore since I was a child. He has nothing to do with this conversation,” she snapped. “Do you know who first told me Chara was my mother?”

           Toriel tried to give her a tolerant smile. “No, child. Who first told you?”

           “Asriel.” Before the goat monster could react, Frisk pressed on, “He put the pieces together after he saw me make a barrier by accident. He knew that that ability ran in the royal family, and the King had fathered Chara’s child, so he asked her if it could be me. Chara got him to bring me to her, and he told me who I really was.” The envelope trembled in her hands. “He told me I’d come home.”

Toriel’s eyes widened again. She started to speak, but Frisk raised her voice: “Chara said my nurse had told her I’d died, and she apologized to me for how she acted whenever she visited the orphanage or the castle kitchens.” The human’s face had the hard, bitter expression Sans recognized from the time she’d caught him trying to escape. “She was so sweet to all the other children, and then she looked at me like I was some kind of diseased rat! She said it was because I reminded her of her little girl and it made her sad, and she didn’t know it was actually me!”

           “There!” Toriel exclaimed. “You see? The nurse wanted to hide the King’s child for her own gain, and—”

           “Chara knew who I was all along!” bellowed Frisk, and it was the goat monster’s turn to step back. “She knew damn well that I was alive! Why else would she pay my foster mother a hundred dinar every month for ten years? How did she know to check in on me every so often to see if I still existed? Why’d she leave me to be beaten and starved half to death while she kept the thousands my father gave her to support us both and did whatever she liked?!”

           “How dare you say that? My child would never have—”

“She would, and she did! I’m sorry, Toriel, but she lied to everyone, especially you! Chara abandoned me until I was useful for something besides money, and she tore your family apart to punish Asgore for being right about her!”

           “ENOUGH!” roared Toriel. She made a violent gesture, flame sizzling through the air. “I will not hear any more of this! Do you understand, High Priestess?! Whatever you may think happened, I know my daughter, and I know what she was and was not capable of! If you’re going to insist on slandering her any further, perhaps it would be better for you to l—”

           The echoes died. The fury in Toriel’s gaze was gone, a hand coming back to her mouth.

           “Better for me to what, Lady Toriel?” Frisk asked, so gently that Sans cringed. “Should—” Her throat worked. “Should I leave the Underground? Are you going to send me away again?”

           Toriel didn’t have the chance to reply. A barrier screamed to life overhead, and constricted until it formed a dome around them only about twenty feet across and fifteen feet high. “All right. I understand,” said Frisk.

Undyne reacted first, pushing Alphys to the floor and stuffing her under the table. “Frisk!” snapped the fish monster. “Calm down, okay? She didn’t mean it!”

“She didn’t mean to say I was lying?” Frisk inquired, her voice suddenly rising to a shriek: “She didn’t mean to tell me to get out?”

“Frisk!” Sans tried to grab her shoulder, only for a flare of gold to warn him away. “C’mon, sweetheart! Ya gotta stop it! We can talk about this!”

“We just did, Sans!” He had seen her in pain before, but it was nothing compared to the wild-eyed stare she turned on him now. “We talked about it because you couldn’t wait to show everyone who I was! Thank you so much for helping me have this difficult conversation! We’ve finally answered the question of whether someone else I love is going to call me a liar!”

Sans’ SOUL already hurt so much that it took a moment to remember what she—oh, God. She meant when she’d told him she was Kris, and he’d scoffed at her until she stripped down to prove it. Now she’d been forced to reveal her identity to Toriel in the least natural way possible, and she didn’t believe her, either. “Frisk—”

She was smiling, but in a very unhinged way. “No, I should really be thanking you. Life is so much simpler now! I don’t have to waste any more time and energy wondering if I should feel worthless, because the closest person to a real mother I’ve ever had just told me so!”

Sans couldn’t answer: he had to fling himself backward before a cascade of sparks hit him in the face. Frisk drifted away a few steps and sank to her knees, hands still clenched on the envelope in her lap. “It’s fine,” she mumbled at the floor. “Food, presents, bubbles—I already gave you everything I have. If you don’t want me anymore, then…”

Toriel was rooted to the spot, chest heaving. The barrier sank lower, nearly grazing her horns, and Undyne rushed to sling her under the table as more sparks flew. “Sans!” the Captain shouted over the crackle and hiss of human magic.

The skeleton glared down at Toriel, and shook his head as she tried to speak. Frisk was too far gone—anything else the goat monster said would just aggravate her further, assuming she could even hear it.

Meanwhile, the dome was slowly closing in on them, and they couldn’t do a damn thing about it. If he tried to touch Frisk now, she’d just shove more magic at him; not only would that hurt like hell, it’d trap them all between two layers of barrier. He yelled her name again, but she didn’t move.

Shit! Why hadn’t Alphys warned him sooner? Why hadn’t Undyne kept her goddamn mouth shut about the letter? And if Toriel couldn’t accept right away that everything she knew was wrong and Chara was even worse than Sans had imagined, couldn’t she have found a way to deny it without completely destroying Frisk?!

Why hadn’t he—

No, all that mattered right now was getting through to her. The light surrounded them in blinding golden pulses, the barrier crackling like…

Humming. The barrier was making a hell of a lot of noise, and it…didn’t sound like her humming at all. Why was he thinking of that now?

…Because the last time his magic had been out of control, in his prison cell, she’d calmed him down by humming. But he hadn’t even heard her at first; he’d only snapped out of it when she touched his blaster – the physical embodiment of his magic – with her bare hand. He never did explain to her what a no-no that was…

Sans looked at his hand. He looked at his priestess, curled in on herself, lost in misery. The golden dome was so close to the crown of his skull that he could feel his whole body screaming at him to run.

The giant skeleton looked Toriel in the eye. Then he squeezed his sockets shut, lifted his arm, and placed his hand flat on the barrier.

 ~

             Something…happened.

           One second, the pressure in Frisk’s head was intolerable, grief and despair rising to a fever pitch, spurred by the determination to keep the monsters here until they changed their minds, till they were sorry. Then—

           The sensation could only be likened to someone running their finger down the inside of her chest, the most strange and intimate thing she’d ever felt. It should have been horrible, or at least uncomfortable, but…

           But it didn’t feel invasive. It felt like someone giving her heart a gentle nudge, saying in a familiar, gravelly baritone, “’s all right, Frisk. It’s gonna be okay. I promise. But you gotta stop now, ‘kay?”

The feeling slipped away. She stirred, trying to get it back; Frisk opened her eyes and—

           Sans. Her chest gave a happy little shiver as she saw him looking down at her. He was standing nearby, giving her a strained smile and…and touching—the barrier—

           Fear jolted her fully awake. Frisk whistled as hard as she could, and the searing golden light vanished. Her whole body ached, but it was nothing compared with what she glimpsed as Sans lowered his arm. “Oh, God! Sans—”

           “Hey, kitten,” mumbled the boss monster. He had to stifle a grunt, shuffling hastily to turn his back to her. “Tori, could I…get a hand with this? Heh…ow…”

           Frisk tried to get up from where she was kneeling, or at least stop shaking. Green light shone around Sans’ huge form, but she barely noticed; all she could see in her mind’s eye were his blackened metacarpals, the smaller bones not just burned, but partially melted by her magic.

           Her legs refused to work. Frisk dropped the envelope and shuffled herself around in a half circle to see if anyone else was hurt, and whether they had seen her nearly kill her poor skeleton. No one was here…

           “Aww, darn. You were so close.”

           …except for a voice that felt like spiders crawling into her brain. The demon-child sat on the edge of a nearby table, shaking its head at her and sighing. Then it gave her an encouraging grin. “Oh, well. That was still fun—just like old times. Don’t worry, you’ll get ‘em someday!”

           Someone moved behind her. Frisk blinked hard, then shuddered, and pushed herself up onto her feet, standing with her back to the demon.

Undyne was climbing out from under their table and offering a webbed hand to Alphys. “Undyne?” The human moved gingerly toward them. “Are you two all right?”

           The Captain’s eye widened, and her arm shot out, protecting Alphys from…from what? Frisk glanced around them, looking for—

           Her. Undyne was protecting Alphys from her.

And why not? Hadn’t she done exactly what the monsters feared most—trapped them with a barrier, maimed someone, and nearly killed them? Even Undyne was afraid of her now!

           Frisk shouldn’t have gotten up: she felt her body go heavy, legs giving way. She was only vaguely aware that she was going to fall, and that Undyne was hesitating, moving too late to catch her.

A soft, tingling sensation stopped her just short of the marble floor, lifting her higher into the air. To her dismay, she was enveloped in red magic, and Sans was reaching for her; Frisk tried to say, “No, don’t—”

           His arms closed around her, strong and safe, his injured hand settling her against his shoulder. The other drew his coat over her legs; a shaky phalange ran through her hair, and a shakier voice rumbled, “Y’okay, sweetheart?”

           Frisk wound her arms around his neck as tight as they’d go, not caring how his vertebrae dug into her flesh. She was too numb to cry, and she didn’t have the strength to ask what he was doing, or why he was anywhere near her. All she could do was hang on.

           Undyne cleared her throat. “She…is she okay now?”

           “She’ll be fine,” snapped the giant skeleton, and immediately stroked Frisk’s hair again as she trembled. “Shh, s’alright,” he murmured.

“Sans,” Toriel said brokenly. “I—”

The world tipped and swerved as Sans shifted his weight, turning them away. “C’mon, kitten. Let’s go home.”

           “To your house?” Undyne was still shaken, but Frisk heard a warning note in her voice. “Look, I know you’re really emotional right now, but she’s not in any condition to—”

           “To sleep!” he snarled. “I’m takin’ ‘er home, and we’re gonna sleep! Good fuckin’ night!”

           A tiny part of Frisk wanted to tell him to be nice, but she couldn’t even stay conscious. The last thing she heard was Toriel’s cry of “Sans, wait!” before his magic rushed them through space. Then—

 ~

             On her third day at the convent, they finally made her leave her room.

           Frisk kept her eyes on the ground, letting the matron steer her down a hall and out into a courtyard full of chattering girls. The noise dropped a little as they saw her, but when Frisk stayed by the wall, there was a collective shrug, and the chatter resumed.

           The wind was howling. Frisk wiped her nose on the sleeve of her new uniform, wondering dully if it was going to snow out here. The drifts in front of Sans and Papyrus’ house never seemed to go down, no matter how often they tossed her into them.

           Did they miss her yet? Did they even know she was gone? Or had the accident—

           “Excuse me?”

           Frisk looked up. Through her tears, she saw a group of older girls standing in front of her, with a grownup right behind—the Sister must have ordered them to come be nice to the new girl. Sure enough, the speaker was holding out a handkerchief, looking kind and concerned. “Thank you,” Frisk whispered, taking it and wiping her eyes.

           “It’s all right. I know I was very sad when I first got here,” the girl said, a little too loud. She smiled, and Frisk tried not to shudder—she’d gotten so used to monsters that the girl’s pretty blue eyes, golden hair, and rosy skin looked fake, like a doll.

The grownup nodded approval and moved away to yell at another group for telling dirty jokes. Immediately, the blonde girl’s smile sharpened, and she wrinkled her nose. “Keep it,” she said curtly.

That was bad, but at least Frisk had expected it. What really hurt was when the group moved off and the girl said to her friends, “Oh my God, her hair! And did you see her eyes? She looks like a rabbit!”

The snickering felt like a scab being ripped off Frisk’s heart. “Geez, Mathilda,” another girl said quietly.

“Well, it’s true! They’re not supposed to be red! Is she cursed or something?” Laughter. “I’m serious! We all need to say extra prayers tonight!”

…

Would it have changed anything if Frisk had remembered that conversation? Soon after, the King visited and told her everything – how he had thought Chara was at least providing her with basic necessities, and he would be sure she never lacked for anything again – and when she worsened, they decided to remove her memories; the Mother Superior had repeated the most relevant facts about her father and her future education, and Frisk had accepted her new life.

As far as Frisk knew, the first time she met her best friend was soon afterward, when Mathilda switched places with someone to sit next to her at lunch. “Hello. You must be Frisk,” she said, smiling. “Do you, um…”

Frisk watched her in puzzlement. Why was Mathilda Owen bothering to speak to her?

Mathilda fidgeted. “Never mind. I just wanted to say hello.” Why did she look so guilty? Her friends were watching, whispering anxiously to each other, as though something important was at stake. “Would you like to come and sit with us? I hate to see you all by yourself.”

As soon as she figured out that it wasn’t a cruel prank, and she really was making friends with the most beautiful and kind-hearted girl in the entire school, Frisk was too happy to question things further. It took her a long time to realize that everyone knew why the King had been here, and that everyone wanted his daughter to like them, especially Mathilda.

Even then, Frisk had decided not to care. As long as she could earn their friendship by being kind and helpful, did it really matter how it’d started? It wasn’t as if she was only worth something because of her father.

…It wasn’t.

 ~

             …Finally.

She shook the ruby droplets from the kitchen knife, wondering idly why he was the only monster who ever bled, then kicked the dust aside. It was time to move on.

 ~          

                       Frisk awoke in a rush of adrenaline and half-remembered nightmares. It was dark; she thought for a moment that she’d been buried alive, then realized that something huge and leathery was draped over her entire body. No golden twilight through the windows, no blood, no dust…

Ugh. Her mouth tasted like a warm sock, and her head throbbed the way it always did when she’d used too much magic. With great care, the human slithered out of her warm prison for a look around.

She was in Sans’ room, lying on his outgrown mattress, his overcoat loosely wrapped around her. The lamp was on, but he’d draped an old shirt over it to diffuse the light into a soft glow, giving the cold, messy space a warmer aspect; in fact, the golden haze reminded her of—

           A barrier.

Chills swept through her, clearing her head of other thoughts like a blast of frigid air. It wasn’t just a nightmare: she had used a barrier against monsters inside the Underground. There was no coming back from that, no excusing or explaining it away.

Even if Toriel hadn’t really meant it at the time, her order to leave would probably become reality. Her friends might not entirely blame her for lashing out, but there was still no way they could trust her anymore—after she had hurt Sans like that, she’d be angry if he did trust her!

           Frisk slowly eased herself back down inside the coat, as if she could hide from what she’d done. In her bitter, selfish regret, she didn’t even think of what this meant for her peace efforts; all she knew was that the Underground was the only place she’d ever really belonged – her birthplace – and she had lost any right to be here. Back to the humans, then, and her suffocating routine of work, exhaustion, and loneliness, secretly hoping that maybe, if she could be useful enough, someone would love her for more than her money or her pedigree and stay. If she could just be good enough—

           Well, obviously, she couldn’t.

           Frisk wasn’t going to cry again. She was tired of crying about things in general, and in this case, there was no possible way to make herself feel better. Why bother making her headache worse and her sleeves all soggy again? She just burrowed deeper into the huge leather coat, willing her mind to subside into comfortable nothingness; at least she was good at that.

It usually helped to have something small to focus on, so Frisk unhooked her itchy black choker and scratched her neck, flushing at the memory of flirting with Sans in front of everyone. Then came her boots, her stockings, and her earrings…

…which weren’t there. The priestess frowned, fingering her earlobes. She didn’t remember taking them out. Had they come off while she was asleep?

Wait a moment. Sans had put her here, hadn’t he? Her satchel was close by; Frisk stuck her arm out until she could pull it over and peek inside. Sure enough, not only had the boss monster removed her earrings for her, he’d left them atop her folded clothes, where they were both safe and easily found.

For some reason, that one little thing, that bit of care and attention, was the last straw. She took a deep breath, only for it to catch as a huge sob tore loose, partly muffled by his coat. Then another, and—

Sans was suddenly standing by the mattress. “Frisk!” He sat down hard. “Frisk, it’s okay, don’t—”

The human forgot that he was supposed to be scared of her. Moving on pure instinct, she flung the coat aside and launched herself up at him, letting his shirt absorb the first wave of tears. “Aww,” he murmured, folding his arms over her back and cradling her head in one massive palm. “C’mon, sweetheart, ya don’t hafta cry. Everythin’s fine now.”

Frisk pressed her face into his clavicle, furiously shaking her head. It was important to explain to him that nothing was fine and it was absolutely correct for her to be crying, but she was crying too hard to get the words out.

Sans gave a large, soft sigh, carrying her outward and back in. “It’s okay,” he repeated, his voice rumbling throughout her body. She shook her head again, and he ran the side of his finger down her back. “Yuh-huh, it is. Calm down.”

She didn’t want to calm down, but as he kept petting her, Frisk’s sobs slowed down a little. The boss monster made a sound deep in his chest, and she answered him with one that made him squeeze her tighter.

There was that magnetic feeling again, as though she was completely stuck to him. This time, though, she wasn’t frightened. And this time, she felt something else: another sensation was stealing over her, so slowly that she thought it might just be her imagination. It was similar to when he’d accidentally given her his magic, but this didn’t seem accidental, and it wasn’t exactly magic…

She’d felt it when he touched the barrier, and here it was again, washing over her in gentle waves: guilt and anger at himself for kicking off the whole incident, anxiety for her, and…well. He didn’t think she was worthless, or dangerous, or that she needed to do a single thing to deserve forgiveness. His hand didn’t even hurt anymore. …Much.

Even if it did, he still loved her.

Frisk shook her head again, but her sobs grew slower and weaker, gradually coming to a stop. The human leaned away long enough to sniff back a giant wad of snot, then sought a dry patch of his shirt to wipe her eyes. She wasn’t sure how he was doing this, but she wasn’t going to question it right now. “Hand?” she croaked.

Sans was quiet. He grunted, then held his palm up. “It ain’t that bad. Looks kinda like a frowny face. See?”

The priestess gulped, raising her own fingers to trace the pattern of deep swirls and grooves her magic had left in the living bones. “Can…” Frisk had to swallow a few more times before she could whisper, “Can you still move them?”

He paused. She felt a closing-off sort of twinge in her chest, as though he’d decided to stop sharing his feelings so he could fib: “Yeah, pretty much.” His metacarpals waggled back and forth, the smallest of them longer than her entire hand. She poked the base of his thumb and forefinger, where a good two or three inches of bone were fused together. “That doesn’t count,” he said stubbornly.

Frisk shuddered, turning to rest her cheek near the top of his sternum. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Do ya wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” she said, and winced as her head throbbed. “What time is it?”

“Last I checked, it was about seven o’clock,” he replied, petting her hair again. “I got up maybe half an hour ago an’ healed you, just in case.” Tap, tap. “How’s yer hangover?”

“…Not that bad, actually.” Frisk yawned. She’d missed being with him so much that it felt like a waste to just sleep, but it was hard to argue with the results. After all she’d had to drink last night, and then…the incident, she was amazed that she only had a headache and an icky mouth. “Thank you for that. It feels like I got much more than five or six hours.”

Sans chuckled, tapping her head again. “That’s ‘cause it’s seven in the evening, kitten. I think we slept about eighteen hours.”

Frisk’s eyes shot open. “Are you serious?” She leaned back enough to look him in the face. “Is that even possible? I—”

The words faded as their eyes met. Frisk figured she must look pretty awful, but he wasn’t much better. “Did I miss a spot?” he asked gruffly.

The human nodded, reaching up to brush at the dried red on the corners of his sockets. Sans leaned into her touch as she rubbed his cheekbone. “You’re supposed to be a big boy now,” she scolded the giant skeleton. “Do I need to—”

Memory hit her again like a fist. Sans jumped as Frisk suddenly yanked her hand away, trying to push herself off him. “Hey!” he protested. “What’re you—wouldja hold on a damn minute?!” More by reflex than design, his hand tightened around her back, keeping her in place. “It was an accident, goddammit! You’re not gonna do it again!”

“No, it wasn’t!” Frisk thumped his shoulder with her tiny fist. “You don’t understand!” Thump. “It wasn’t an accident! I was so angry, I wanted to keep everyone there, and I didn’t want to control it! I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped me!”

Sans started. “That little fucker,” the skeleton whispered, as if he’d realized something very profound. “I know what it was, Frisk. That goddamn thing was right there! I saw it a minute before the whole name thing started! I dunno if it made me drop the letter so you’d freak out, or if it was plannin’ something else, but it wanted you to go nuts! That’s why—”

“No! It wasn’t!” Thump. Thump. “Are you even listening?! It was me! I did it on purpose!” Thump. “I was already…” Frisk shuddered, shaking her head again as more emotions boiled to the surface. “Do you know how scared I’ve been? We’re halfway through our visit, and I haven’t even talked to anyone about ending slavery! I’ve just been thinking of how to tell Asgore and Toriel about Chara, whether they’d believe me and if I’ve been selfish to keep back something that could help make peace—I had no idea their estrangement was because Asgore knew Chara was lying about me! And I missed you so much—” His arms tightened, and Frisk caught herself on another sob. “I don’t want to go, Sans!”

“No one’s makin’ you go anywhere!” He gave her a very light shake. “We all know you, Frisk! Ya think anyone’s sittin’ there thinkin’, ‘Welp, that was inevitable, let’s go ahead ‘n toss ‘er out now’? Or d’ya think we feel like shit ‘cause we kept pokin’ you till you couldn’t take it anymore?”

“How can you say that?” she demanded. “It doesn’t matter how badly I was provoked! I wouldn’t let you get away with attacking me just because you were angry!”

“Y’already did. Remember?” He stroked her back with one knuckle. “You coulda done anythin’ you wanted once I quit tryin’ ta murder you, and ya put me to bed ‘n fed me.”

…Damn it. “That’s not the same thing! I—”

“Frisk.” His phalange brushed her cheek. “Yer the one who’s not listenin’. No one is makin’ you leave. We’re gonna talk about it with everybody, there’s gonna be a big damn fight over who’s the most sorry, an’ we’re gonna figure out how to get you in to see Asgore. You’re gonna say whatever you need to about Chara and lay out yer big plan to make everything all better. If he doesn’t wanna do it, we’ll figure somethin’ else out before we leave.” His hand rested on her back like a shield. “And I’m gonna quit actin’ like all I hafta do is stay outta yer way an’ let you do everything. From now on, I want you ta tell me if somethin’s botherin’ you before ya go crazy.” Squeeze. “Any questions?”

Frisk thought about it as she sniffled. “Yes. Why couldn’t you have been this sweet when I gave you the stupid chessboard?”

He snorted. “Yer startin’ ta sound like me!” Pause. Shrug. “Short answer? It was pretty much the best thing I ever got, and I didn’t know what to say.”

“Whatever happened to ‘Thank you,’ Sans?” Thump. “I was really looking forward to you opening your gift, and you couldn’t wait to get away from it!”

“I know, I know!” His shoulders hunched again. “’m sorry! I…wanted ta jump you, but that wasn’t exactly an option. I didn’t know what else ta do!”

How could he make her want to hug and slap him so badly? “Well, putting that aside, do you plan to spend the rest of your life running off when you get embarrassed?”

“I wasn’t—” He caught himself and scowled. “I dunno. Just…sorry I was shitty about the chess stuff. It was amazing, and thank you a lot for it. Okay?”

He was so exasperatingly cute that Frisk had to bite her lip. “All right, then. You’re welcome. I…”

Rrrrgggrgrgl.

They both froze as her stomach rumbled. Frisk made a sheepish sound, and Sans chuckled. “Right. I was in the middle of makin’ a couple sandwiches when I came up.”

Frisk nodded. “Where’s Papyrus?” She wiped her eyes again. “Please don’t say he’s planning to make dinner.”

“Nope! I left a note on the door tellin’ him and Undyne ta stay at the inn tonight. I said we’d meet ‘em at the Ruins tomorrow morning.”

They were going to be alone tonight? The priestess felt light-headed, her cheeks burning. Sans must have been thinking the same thing, because she could’ve sworn his bones were getting warmer. “Time ta eat,” he mumbled, and a blink later, they were in the living room.

Still in his arms, Frisk turned her head to survey the kitchen table. He’d set out a loaf of bread, some cheese, tomatoes, and a few other things, obviously dropped when he’d heard her crying. Frisk thought about it, then snuggled back into Sans. There was food, and she was starving, but he was right here, too; she didn’t know which she wanted more at the moment.

Another rumble from her stomach settled the question. “Off ya go,” he said reluctantly, and Frisk sighed, moving her hand down to push free of their stuck-togetherness.

Sans suddenly made a strangled sound. Frisk didn’t understand it, or why his hand had flexed to avoid squashing her, until she looked down: she’d accidentally reached in between his ribs, pushing his shirt through and wrapping her fingers most of the way around his middle rib.

She’d never put her hands inside his ribcage, assuming it was basically a private part, and it seemed she was right. Just like that, his breathing had grown ragged, his bones trembling as her hand tightened. There was no misinterpreting his physical reaction; she could imagine how his instincts to comfort and protect her were deepening into much more raw emotion…

…because it was completely mutual. The young woman tugged lightly on his rib, and felt him shudder again. “Frisk,” he muttered. “Knock it off.”

Frisk moved just enough to brush her cheek against his jawbone. “What?” One finger slid along the bone toward his sternum. “This?”

Sans’ entire frame jerked. “Yes, that!” He caught her wrist in the curl of his index finger. “If I was a human, it’d be like stickin’ yer hand down my pants!”

“You don’t want me to?” she asked, very matter-of-fact.

Sans’ arm across her back was almost hurting her. Not tight enough, then. “Frisk,” he said warningly.

“I’m serious.” She licked her lips, feeling heat spread through her, chasing away the sorrow and anger. “My period’s over, the house is empty, and your magic doesn’t have any negativity at all right now.” Her free hand drifted toward his sternum. “We both need this, Sans. Don’t tell me you’re not interested.”

“I’m not sayin’ that!” To her bewilderment, he seized her with his magic and set her on the couch with a butt-tingling thump. “Just… I want you so bad, I’m about to lose my damn mind!” His entire skull was bright red. “But you’re still messed up from somethin’ that only happened ‘cause I was bein’ a dumbass, an’ I’m not gonna do it when you’re not thinkin’ straight! That would be fuckin’ wrong! Got it?” Despite himself, he stepped closer to touch her cheek. “’Sides, there’s somethin’ we’ve really gotta talk about first. The letter from yer dad is…”

He trailed off as her face twitched. “What?” he asked suspiciously.

“So, you…” Frisk knew this was not the time, but she couldn’t keep the words from bubbling up: “You’d be…fucking wrong?” Her body was trembling again, this time with the urge to giggle. “You already went the extra mile and figured out how to be my size. I’m pretty sure that means you can do it correctly now!”

“Frisk,” he said, scandalized, and covered his face as she snrrrked. “God damn it, woman, I’m tryin’ ta be serious here!”

She didn’t answer, at least not out loud. Sans took one look at her face and gave his scariest growl. “No.”

“But—”

“Frisk.”

“But are you—”

“Friiiiisk—”

A long pause. Frisk sighed in resignation, shrugging one shoulder.

Sans nodded. “Okay. Now, for real, Frisk, I’m—”

“—fucking serious?”

The dam broke: one moment, they were staring each other down, and then they burst into hysterical, snorting laughter. Frisk was sobbing again, but for the right reason, dammit; Sans let his forehead thunk on the floor, trying desperately to stop long enough to say something, only to end up laughing harder.

Eventually, out of sheer weakness, they had to slow down, and reached a point where they could almost breathe normally. “Shit,” rasped Sans, and wiped his eyes on his sleeves. “Oh my God, I love you.”

Frisk’s breath caught, her heart coming to a standstill. She sat up, watching the skeleton realize what he’d said. His sockets widened, but he looked straight at her, almost defiantly. “What?” There went the red again. He looked away…and back. “’s true,” he said, very quietly.

There was no telling what she might have done if Sans hadn’t pushed to his feet and waved his hand at the table. The bread knife started sawing away, cutting the loaf into sandwich slices and assembling the ingredients. “We need ta eat somethin’, an’ then I should go track yer letter down,” he mumbled, trying to rub the color off his skull. “I dunno if someone picked it up, or if it got left up there, or what. You can get some time to yerself—take a bath or somethin’.”

A bath sounded good, decided the one functional corner of her mind. She accepted the glass of water and mostly-tomato sandwich he wafted over to her a moment later, ignoring his muttered apologies for its crappiness. Nor did she pay much heed when he said something else, tapped a knuckle on her shoulder, and winked out of sight.

Alone for the first time in several days, Frisk finished her sandwich. She put the dishes in the sink, went upstairs, and ran a very hot bath, staring at the steam rising from the water. Then she went to Sans’ room, removed all her clothes, and lay down to wrap herself in his overcoat again. She hadn’t touched herself since before they left the castle, and she was even more worked up now than she’d been the night she made herself clear to Sans; being in his room, with the feeling of his bones and everything he’d said to her fresh in her mind, anticipating time to themselves at last—that was more than her body could handle. So…

It took so little time that the water was still hot when Frisk stumbled back into the bathroom. She left the door open a crack before she got in the tub, because…the steam…had to escape. Yes. The door needed to be open. For the steam.

Frisk knew exactly when Sans returned; to her disappointment, she heard an embarrassed mutter in the hall, and the door clicked shut. Just because she could, Frisk splashed louder, whistling his favorite song and letting the notes linger than she probably had to. She let the water out, also loudly, and kept humming as she dried herself and got dressed.

Sans was obviously on his guard when she came downstairs, which was wise: she was wearing his old clothes again, hands in the pockets of his zipped-up blue jacket, though she hadn’t had the nerve to put on any socks. He gave her one glance, reddened again, and turned his head, shoving the golden envelope at her. “Here.”

Frisk swallowed. “Thank you.” She studied the envelope for a moment, then tossed it on the couch and advanced on him. “I’m feeling much better now, so—”

“Nope!” Sans skipped away fast enough to make her yelp a little. He held up his good hand, as if to ward her off. “Dammit, Frisk, I mean it when I say I’m not gonna fuck you yet! Sit down and listen!”

Startled, the human sank onto the couch. Sans scratched the back of his head, collecting his thoughts. “Okay. So. Gaster gave me that thing, an’ he told me what’s in it.” He shut his eyes. “First thing: your King’s been talkin’ about you all over the place. Everyone—all the humans know Chara was yer mom.”

Frisk’s stomach lurched. “I see,” she murmured. Sans watched anxiously as she blew out a long breath. “Well, at least if I start throwing barriers at humans, it won’t frighten them.”

Sans chuckled. “Nope. They’d think it was neat,” he agreed.

The priestess thought it over, and decided that this particular problem could go back on the shelf for now. “Did someone see the letter and start spreading the word?”

“Yep. Gaster says yer dad’s pissed off, and that’s his way of bein’ passive-aggressive.” He indicated the envelope. “He fixed up a bunch of legal stuff with your name all over it.”

“‘Legal stuff’?” Frisk scowled. “Am I being arrested for theft?” She almost hoped so; that was a fight she’d enjoy winning. “If I am, I swear I will burn down the entire—”

“Nope. Just the opposite.” The skeleton took a deep, deep breath. “He…”

Watching his face, it suddenly clicked. “He wants to adopt me?” she asked crisply.

Blink. “…Uh.” Blink. “…yes?” Emphatic blink. “How the hell did you know?”

Her teeth clenched, all her muscles knotting at once, and then she let it go with a sigh. “He hinted at it a few times back when I was teaching Gaius magic. It’s been so long, I forgot all about it.” Mostly. “The poor boy isn’t going to live long enough to have his own heirs, and my older siblings are almost all gone, so… I was hoping His Majesty would name one of his more distant relatives, or pick another of his children.”

“Well, you’re the best he’s got.” Frisk flushed as Sans sat down against the opposite wall. “Is that a normal thing fer humans? You’re gettin’ old and yer official kid is kinda puny, so you grab a backup?”

Frisk crossed her legs, absently enjoying his reaction. “It’s uncommon, but it’s happened before in order to keep a particular bloodline going.” She picked up the envelope and broke the wax seal. “I’ll bet you a million dinar my father says he’s invited Luke and Mathilda back to the castle with their family. He went to school with Luke’s father, so he probably wants to get reacquainted before they announce our engagement.”

The boss monster watched in silence as she pulled out a sheaf of expensive papers, setting aside the copies of her ducal investiture and adoption decree. Frisk unfolded the handwritten letter, read it over carefully, and nodded. “You owe me a million dinar.”

He didn’t laugh. “See? If you end up havin’ my kid, it’s probably not gonna improve yer chances of bein’ Queen someday and gettin’ to set everything right for everyone.” Sans shrugged, eyes on the floor. “Not the kinda thing I can ask you to give up just so I can get laid.”

Warmth bloomed in her chest and rekindled in her middle, where she was still sensitive from her personal time upstairs. “I’m not giving anything up. I don’t want to be Queen,” she said calmly. “I want to become the humans’ ambassador to the monster race and set up an embassy somewhere close by—maybe at the farm on the river.” She set the papers aside and got to her feet, her entire body humming. “And if I do have a child, I’m going to love it and raise it, no matter how hard things get…even if it’s only half human.”

Sans’ eyes went blank. “…Frisk?”

The High Priestess’ heart was pounding so hard that she wondered if he could hear it as she crossed the room. She stopped in front of him, and held her hand out. “Will you stay with me, Sans?”

His hand came up to engulf hers and tug her against him, even as he shook his head. “Ya can’t decide somethin’ like that so quick,” Sans protested. Frisk leaned in just hard enough for him to feel her breasts through the thick blue jacket, and he shuddered. “I-I mean, believe me, I understand bein’ horny, but—”

Frisk reached up to rap on his cheekbone with her knuckles. “Excuse me, sir, but my mind has been made up since I opened the box.” She turned to press her lips to his phalanges. “Take me to your room, please.”

The light in his sockets dilated nearly all the way. Massive hands closed around her, and the world suddenly rushed by, depositing them by the door in his room. His magic pulled the mattress out to the center of the floor, straightening his overcoat in lieu of sheets or a blanket; the skeleton released her and glanced around for a moment, visibly regretting that they weren’t in a more romantic or at least clean environment. “Close yer eyes,” he mumbled.

Frisk complied, feeling and hearing him compress his huge frame down to human size. She opened her eyes just in time for Sans to pull her down to the mattress, setting her in his lap with her calves draped over his femurs. As before, he didn’t seem to care how his clothes hung off him; he simply yanked his sleeves back, then slipped his arm around her waist, the other running through her hair as he mouthed her neck.

That was a good start; the priestess wound her arms around him as Sans pulled her even closer. She made a delicate little sound as he slid his tongue into her mouth, his movements slow and gentle until she deliberately nipped him.

He nearly snarled at her, one hand gripping the small of her back and the other tangling in her hair. Frisk almost purred at the twinges in her scalp, letting him hold her in place as the kiss grew rougher and his fangs grazed her lip. She couldn’t believe how easily this was coming to her, how gratifying it was—all it took was a few little sighs, soft touches, and complete sexual abandon. Who knew?

It was more than a physical urge, though. She couldn’t even guess which of them needed this more, to be held and explored, valued, accepted—

The hand on her back had crept under her jacket, finding the hem of her shirt and then encountering bare skin. Frisk shivered pleasurably at the feel of bones gliding up her side, and at the disbelieving sound he made. “Holy shit,” breathed Sans. “You’re so soft.” His nasal ridge dropped back to the crook of her neck; he inhaled so deeply that she felt a rush of cold on her damp skin. “You smell amazing—” His tongue ran across her throat, his teeth sinking just hard enough to make her whimper and reach up to caress his skull. “I don’t…are ya really sure about this?”

Sighing inwardly, the priestess nuzzled the side of his vertebrae; he sucked in his breath as her tongue ran over the dry bone. Her legs shifted toward him, hips scooting closer as she guided his hands to her waist. Sans accepted the invitation, hitching up his baggy trousers and carefully grinding his pelvis into her so that she could feel his magic more directly.

It was one thing to have undergone a comprehensive scientific education and read dozens upon dozens of romance novels, and quite another to actually feel male parts…or magical facsimiles. The eternal, universal question sprang to mind: how was anything that size supposed to fit in her? That couldn’t be right. If she didn’t know better, she’d dismiss the whole idea as an elaborate prank, and childbirth as some kind of optical illusion. But…

Frisk ducked her head into his shoulder, face burning as his fingers combed through her hair. Luckily, Sans was oblivious. “’s not fair,” he murmured above her. “Everythin’ about you feels nice, ‘n I’m just a buncha gross bones.”

Frisk gave a disapproving snort—this, she could handle. “Here, give me your hand.” Ignoring her hot cheeks, she took his wrist and slid his hand up under her jacket, unable to suppress a tremor as his phalanges traced the underside of her breast. “If I thought you were ‘gross,’ would I be letting you do this?”

There was no telling what Sans thought: his powers of speech had degenerated into a series of incoherent sounds. To her irritation, he withdrew his hand and grabbed at the bottom of her jacket, desperate to pull it over her head…only to blink in confusion as Frisk snrked at him, leaning back and helpfully tapping the zipper.

As it turned out, the joke was on her. In another split-second, Sans had the jacket unzipped and the sleeves pulled straight down her arms, the whole thing tossed aside; before she knew what had happened, he was crushing her against him, his hands back under her white shirt, palms sweeping along her sides and up across her back—

In the heat of the moment, both of them had forgotten about her scars. Frisk tensed as his hands passed over the rough skin, and he stopped dead. “This okay?” he inquired after a moment, giving her a few experimental pets. “Doesn’t feel too weird, does it?”

The young woman shook her head, resting it on his shoulder and reminding herself that he’d already seen them. There was nothing to worry about or feel ashamed of. “You can touch it if you want. It doesn’t feel like much of anything anymore—the nerve endings are gone.”

Sans ground his teeth. “Are ya sure I can’t go kill that bitch?”

Purely on instinct, Frisk placed her slender fingers between his upper ribs, near his sternum; his eyes widened further as she pulled herself the rest of the way onto his bony, baggy-trousered lap. “Please don’t,” she said against his jaw. “I think we have better things to d—”

In one motion, Sans pulled her shirt up to her collarbone and hitched her forward to lay them both down on the mattress. With her face aflame and her heart galloping harder than ever, Frisk stayed still as he rose on one elbow to look her over, jaws parting to breathe more heavily; but to her surprise, when he reached down, all he did was rest his right palm on her sternum, where they could both feel her heartbeat reverberating through the disfigured bones.

Frisk gradually forget to be embarrassed, or cold, letting him see that she trusted him enough to stay exposed. Sans moved his thumb a little, and without thinking, she rested her hand on his, playing with the gaps between his joints. They were both content to stay that way for a few quiet moments, studying the contrast between her skin and his bones.

Soon, though, he had to lean down again to kiss her, and his hand turned to stroke her breast with the backs of his fingers. Frisk made a soft sound and tried to sit up to demand more; to her surprise, he shook his head and slung his femur across her waist, pinning her to the mattress. “Slow down, kitten,” he muttered. “I don’t wanna go nuts an’ hurt you by accident.”

That was cheating. She was already aroused enough; when she reached down to grab his hand, only to have her wrists corraled and pinned over her head with a trace of red magic, she couldn’t help moaning out loud.

Sans’ orange eyes were fully dilated now. He had sat up and partly turned aside, but couldn’t look away from her writhing and urgent noises. “What’d I just say?!” he snapped.

“I can’t help it!” Frisk squirmed again. “Let me go, and I’ll stop! Please!”

With unnatural speed, Sans released her and kicked off his trousers. His full weight flattened her to the mattress, and something pressed very distinctively into her stomach; Frisk tried to look down between their bodies, but his baggy shirt was blocking her view. Was it red like the rest of his magic, or—

His fingers caught her chin, making her look up at him. “Okay, kitten. You ready?” He let go long enough to hook his phalanges in the waistband of her black-and-white-striped pants, and rested his forehead on hers. “I…” He exhaled, his entire body trembling. “I’m just guessin’ on size. Went with somethin’ like this.” His tongue stuck out for a moment. “If it doesn’t work, then—”

“It’s all right, Sans.” Frisk leaned up to kiss his jaw, wiggling her hips to help him remove her last piece of clothing. “Go ahead.”

Sans nodded, taking in the view with his jaws still parted and his eyes burning, but he clearly couldn’t wait any longer. She let him arrange her arms around him, then run his hand over her waist and hips, rubbing her thighs for an appreciative moment before he nudged her legs open.

Either Sans had read up on this process, or the instincts Undyne had mentioned could adapt to human anatomy, because he didn’t even hesitate. He plucked the folds of his shirt out of the way and reached down, and Frisk jumped as something prodded her entrance. She’d gotten a couple of her fingers in there before, but as Sans moved forward into her, she couldn’t help wincing. The pressure quickly grew into discomfort as her body started giving way; she buried her face in Sans’ shirt, and he paused for a second, then leaned in—

Romance novels had absolutely lied to her. The pressure built into sharp, burning pain as he pushed further into her, and Frisk couldn’t hold back a little sob as he moved out, and back in. He shook his head; she tried to tell him it was all right, only to cry out as he sank the rest of the way inside. “God—‘m sorry, Frisk, just—” His hips moved back again, and he started to sit up.

Frisk latched onto his ribs again, legs squeezing his pelvis in the strangest, strongest determination she’d ever felt. She didn’t care if it hurt: he needed her, she needed him, and she’d be damned if she’d let it end yet! “Don’t stop,” she whispered, keenly aware of the effect her voice had on him. Just to be certain, she ran her finger over the back of his skull. “Please?”

There were no more words after that. The boss monster slammed into her again, drawing another near-sob from her. He snarled deep in his throat, hands trembling as they grasped the overcoat behind her head; with a huge effort, he drew out and pushed in more slowly, then stayed still for a moment. Frisk made the mistake of wriggling her hips to try to adjust to the feeling of fullness – of intrusion, really – and he swiftly jerked out and slammed in again.

That was enough for Frisk. She pulled clumsily at him with her legs, and he either took the hint or couldn’t hold back anymore: he snarled in his throat, movements faster and more erratic the closer he came. Frisk held on, ignoring the pain and focusing on the fierce exultation of watching him lose himself in her; when he started to slow down a little, she growled and bit his clavicle as hard as she could, determined to see him finish.

Sure enough, Sans groaned deep in his throat, ending on a snarl; his hips went once—twice—three times more, and his arms locked around her, his entire body shoving her into the mattress as hard as she’d wanted. Frisk let him ride it out for as long as he wanted, waiting till the tension in his limbs finally relaxed and he slumped into her.

Neither one spoke for several minutes. There was no need for him to pull out: she felt his magic vanish, and tried not to breathe too big a sigh of relief. Well, she couldn’t be disappointed in the lack of multiple orgasms or even much pleasure yet—how could she when Sans was lying in her arms, rubbing his face slowly into her neck as his breathing began to slow?

Frisk stroked his skull and shifted her weight where his leg was digging into her, and immediately regretted it as her entire lower half protested. She was going to have many bruises in the morning. They would just have to work on their technique, she thought, resting her cheek on his cranium.

Sans showed no signs of life besides his breathing for several minutes. She was starting to worry a little when he moved his head enough to say, “M’rm.”

The young woman blinked. “Beg pardon?”

He was silent for a long time. “Never mind. I’ll ask ya later.” Sans rose up on his elbow and shakily leaned in to lick her neck again. “Thank you,” he murmured.

There was so much behind it that Frisk didn’t know what to say. Instead, she reached up and pulled his head back down to her breasts, resting his cheekbone over her heart. It made her remember how he’d shared his feelings directly with her before, and what’d happen if he tried that in the middle of sex…

Frisk sighed, closing her eyes. That was another thing to put away for later, to worry about and/or look forward to when she got to it. For now, she closed her eyes, and waited for Sans to say something; then she peeked at him, and saw that she was wasting her time. He was already fast asleep.

[champagne-bucky]

Prescription For... (Just a Touch)

Summary: Steve learns the basics.

Warnings: pre-serum Steve x reader, crude language, masturbation (male and female), dirty thoughts

Notes: Soooo this is kinda late (by like a month or two) but this is kinda my thank you for 1,000 on Tumblr!!! Thank you all so so so much for your support and love towards me and my writings!! Enjoy!!

After Bucky’s interesting visit with Old Man Rogers, he had to go back for more. He honestly did not believe a word his older best friend spoke to him. Was he going senile? Maybe he was lying? Or, maybe he was telling the truth…

“Back for more?” The older gentleman chuckled at the impromptu visit from his childhood friend.

“I just gotta know, are you pulling my leg? Because if you are that was a pretty fucking good gag, Steve,” no matter how many times Steve told Bucky about her, Bucky really thought the old captain was lying to him.

“I assure you, it was all real,” Steve smirked at Bucky and Bucky was a little squeamish at that.

“So, then what else happened between you and her? Did you visit her while you returned the stone? Did you ever keep in touch with her like you did with Peggy? C’mon Steve don’t leave me hanging,” Steve chuckled at his friend.

“All in due time, Buck. Head home now, I’ve gotta take my meds and head to bed,” Bucky gave Steve a hug and pat on the back.

“I’ll be back,” Bucky called out.

“You always do,” Steve responded.

—

Later that night, Steve laid in his bed and dreamed of his woman. The woman before the shield, before the title, before his name. He dreamed of her.

*flashback*

“So, Rogers, them boys been giving you trouble for a while now, huh?” She sat across from the nervous young man while sipping on her drink.

“Just the usual stuff. This always happens to me, ya know,” he responds as he plays with the collar of his shirt.

“You don’t listen to those boys. All they are is scared little boys who got no business picking on a guy like you,” Steve scoffed at that.

“Then why do they always come after me?”

“Depends, your pal Bucky out of town or something?” It did dawn on Steve that whenever Bucky wasn’t around he did get picked on a lot more.

“I don’t like the way they spoke to you today. Sayin’ that you and your momma are,” she shuddered in disgust, “are like that. I find it charming that a man can be that close with his momma,” Steve blushed at that. All his life people would tease and taunt him for being a momma’s boy. Bucky was the same with his mother. However, when there’s a guy as big and buff as he is the guys don’t pick on you as much.

“They’re probably just jealous cause they can’t find any lady around her to screw around with. Probably touch their you know what’s to a peach and imagine a lady attached,” Steve choked on his drink. He never heard a woman speak such vulgarity.

“What?” She looked at him curiously.

“Ya know,” she started doing the motion of a closed fist going up and down.

Steve furrowed his brows in confusion. What was she doing?

“Oh, Oh my gosh! You’ve never…” she trailed off as she looked at Steve’s expression. Poor Steve started to blush out of embarrassment.

“No, no, it’s nothing to be ashamed about. Didn’t you ever learn what that was,” she tried her best to not be crude, but she knew it wasn’t gonna work.

“I’m not following,” poor boy.

“Steve,” she let out a little chuckle, “I’m talking about masterbating. You’ve never heard about that before?” Steve choked back his shocked expression as she whispered the last part.

Of courses he’s heard of that word before. He remembers how his momma sat him down one day and told him that good boys don’t do dirty things like touch their privates. She scarred poor Steve at such a young age about the evils of self pleasure.

“I-I have, I just thought I w-wasn’t supposed to d-do it,” Steve was entirely red at this point.

“Oh, Stevie. My poor poor boy you’re mistaken’,” she shook her head and placed a hand over his. “There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself,” she had confidence that Steve had never seen before, not even in Bucky. “It’s a good thing, a really good thing. It’ll prepare you for later,” she winked as Steve’s eyes blew as wide as the moon.

He forgot about the offer she had made. Oh god, just knowing that made him feel ashamed of himself, he didn’t know anything about masterbating let alone sex. He’s a fraud!

“H-How do I-I do it,” he was looking everywhere except her face.

She smirked and began to tell him the rundown. Steve was baffled by how all this worked. He didn’t know how his mother would feel about this if she ever caught him. Oh god, what if she caught him, Steve thought.

“Listen, just try it, there’s no need to rush or overthink it. However in the event that you do do it,” she smirked and played with the hair at the nape of his neck, “let me know every little detail,” she winked and gave Steve a kiss on the cheek as she left the little diner they were in.

-

Steve had been nervous all throughout the night when he returned home. Every time his mother asked him a question he would start to get nervous. Thinking that he was starting to come down with something, she abruptly sent him to bed, alone with his thoughts.

Now flash forward to Steve in his room, laid out on his bed, stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers and his pale little chest heaving up and down in the moonlight. He stared up at the ceiling as he thought. What should turn him on? He laid there for what felt like hours, only it was mere minutes, before his mind wandered back to her.

Did she do this too? Did she lay down in her bed every night and do dirty things to make her feel better? Did she tug her nightgown up to her hips and play down there until she felt euphoric? Would she not wear her undergarments to bed, maybe discard them so they wouldn't feel so dirty?

Oh, so this is how you start, huh? Steve felt himself get harder at the thought of her doing that. Her sweet little nightgown resting above her belly button, undergarments taken neatly off her heating body as her sweet little center starts to slick. She’s featherlight with her touches, she hisses when she applies pressure to her sweet and sensitive breasts.

Quiet moans escape past her beautiful lips as she rubs her thighs together for some relief. That’s not enough to quench the increasingly burning fire. Her one hand leaves its place, pulling and pinching the dusty pink nipple that is way past its usual sensitivity limit.

It’s wet down there, so wet. She feels a light sheen of sweat gloss over her perfect skin. Her fingers make hasty work as she plays, pulls, and rubs the sensitive little nub. Her moans start to get too loud, she has to put her other hand over her mouth to silence them. She fails quickly as she slips a finger in her center, then two. It’s mind blowing, the sweet and slick core pulsing at every rapid movement. No room for teasing tonight, she has to be quick before anyone hears her.

Three fingers, she’s never done this before. It feels so good. Her back arches off the bed ever so slightly out of pleasure. She’s going faster now, so fast she hears little noises coming from down there. It’s so hot. So hot that she can’t take the amount of pleasure anymore. She lets go and it's an amazing feeling. Her bed sheets are soaked as well as her thighs. She’s heavy breathing now as she scrambles to get up.

Her legs are shaking with every movement as she strips her sheets and wipes herself down. The air feels nice and cool against her burning skin. She needed this tonight and she’s glad it happened.

Finally, she changes her sheet and lays back in bed. All cool and rested thinking about the skinny boy who visits her father's pharmacy every day.

-

Steve is sitting up now, hand around his painfully aching cock. He’s pumping up and down so fast. The precum spilling out the top was enough to coat his big shaft. He’s holding back his grunts with clenched teeth.

It feels good, it’s so good that he needs to stop himself a few times so the pleasure doesn’t end early. He’s starting to make sweet sounds on his glistening member too. His other hand is making a tight grip on the edge of his mattress. He can’t hold on for long, he’s gotta do it.

He lets go. The mess ends up on his chest and dribbles down his abdomen. He’s coated in his own sheen of sweat and he is breathless.

Steve couldn't believe what had just happened. He feels a mix of shame, but not as much as he feels the missing fulfillment of pleasure. This sweet delicacy should’ve been a part of his life way earlier. Screw it, he wants to do it a second time, third time, so many times, but he knows he can’t. He needs some sleep since this activity drained him of all his energy.

He sleeps like a baby for the first time in years. He’s cooled down and feels less stressed. Steve can’t wait to do it again.

-

Her phone rings a numerous number of times. Her mother yells for her to come near as she says a young gentleman is asking for her. She trudges towards the phone and smirks as she hears her soon to be lover's voice telling her that the deed has been done.

“So you ready to learn more, Rogers?”

[dansnaturepictures]

14th August 2021: Part 1 of 2-Silver-spotted Skipper and Clouded Yellow make my butterfly year list my second highest ever and more at Old Winchester Hill 

We made a now annual and always anticipated August trip to Old Winchester Hill today to try and spot a Silver-spotted Skipper and Clouded Yellow part of a big butterfly focused weekend we had planned. Welcomed by the in fruit apple trees and delicious looking rosebay willowherb, with top views of Peacock and a few Red Admiral the latter flying into me nicely at one point around the hut area, we made our way through the gate to the slope. Here we took in the always phenomenal picturesque views over the stunning grassy and very well wooded too hill and across the renowned South Downs seeing as far down as the coast with the Fawley oil refinery visible. In a gentle breeze we needing the sun to come through the clouds a little to try to see the butterflies in mid-morning (me and my Mum came out this morning and Missy stayed at home with her partner and we came out before a football match) it was lovely to watch the day wake up as sun shone on the landscape bit by bit. I took the first, second, sixth, seventh and eighth pictures in this photoset of views throughout the walk. 

We drunk in the vibrant and colourful meadow, seeing a rich array of flowers such as scabious a key flower today as I saw some key species on it as I mention below, marjoram, eyebright as shown in the fourth picture I took today in this photoset, sweet blue harbells as shown in the fifth picture I took, fennel, bird’s-foot trefoil, ragwort, self-heal, hawksbeard, St. John’s-wort, wild basil, yarrow and wild carrot. Then butterflies emerged a lot as we walked down the hill with the sun out more and more. Scores of Chalkhill Blues brought to life the landscape with so many milky blue males and coffee brown females on the wing in the air at once, once more luckily for us this year and exceptional views of them landed. A late Ringlet with an interesting red mite looking thing or it may have been some sort of tag which we saw on a few of the butterflies todday on it and special views of Gatekeeper and Meadow Brown as well as another Red Admiral added to this circus.

Then the moment we had hoped for. I gazed over to a scabious and there sat on it shining out was a bright orange Silver-spotted Skipper. I got my Mum onto it and we watched it for some precious moments, catching either it or another one later on too. We were over the moon to see this one of my favourite butterflies and one of our finest summer species. It was extremely exciting to see it a butterfly in a habitat like this which always gives me a sweet taste of summer like the sweetest of beverages. A sensational species to see and I loved trying for macro pictures of it getting the third in this photoset. As butterfly 43 of my year it pulled me level with how many I saw in 2020. Whilst all of this was going on two enormous Ravens barked loudly overhead which was spectacular to see.

We then made our way towards another blooming patch of meadow and along the base of the hill towards the woods to an area where we saw a Clouded Yellow last year with red bartsia, knapweed, viper’s bugloss and the first yellow wort I recall seeing shown in the ninth picture I took today in this photoset adding to the floral display and the trees looking stunning as bits of sun caressed them in full leaf especially. I felt very uplifted by the beauty of the landscape around something that since the stunning views of Snowdonia from the cottage we stayed in Anglesey in June and around that area I have maybe appreciated and taken in more.

With the assortment of butterflies still in the air we waited in hope of a Clouded Yellow. Then we were thrilled as my Mum spotted one which we got brilliant and prolonged flying views of as it circled the meadow. We also got amazing moments seeing this potato like beacon of yellow sitting still getting such valuable chances to take pictures with it very flighty also quite characteristic of the species I put my big lens to use rarely on a butterfly to reach into the shot quickly rather than have to approach and likely see it fly on before I could snap with my macro lens I tweeted a photo I took of it on Dans_Pictures tonight. It was quite notable them stopping today including on scabious as well as for years it was a butterfly that barely ever stopped for us so it was one to see flying but that’s two years in a row at this site we’ve seen it land which is fantastic. In case we ever needed a comparison as it’s probably the most similar at a glance I saw Clouded Yellow and Brimstone flying at once this afternoon which was nice. It’s just a great feeling too to have had somewhere we’ve seen Clouded Yellow two years running a butterfly it can be hit and miss to see in a year. And with Silver-spotted Skipper only coming back into our life in 2018 when we discovered you could see them here a site known to us before the Old Winchester Hill August visit to try for these two is well established on our butterfly calendar now and I felt so lucky to see them again.

We had done it. Seen the two summer species of our desire and it took my butterfly year list to 44 beating last year and making it my second highest ever butterfly year list with only more seen by me in 2019 now. A quite remarkable and rewarding thing given how much harder we have maybe had to work to see the species this year with all the changeable weather in the peak season. But we made it and as we really look towards the end of the peak season now with the Big Butterfly Count when most species are around over and the Clouded Yellow the last of the species I’ve seen before that I can see this year now left to see I can say it’s yet again been one of the most fantastic and exciting years of butterflies I’ve ever had. I have had so much fun, depended on butterflies for moments of joy so much as I have for birds and other wildlife too and had the pleasure of enjoying some of the greatest wildlife the UK has to offer at some brilliant sites locally, further afield and across the country.

As we walked out of this area we had some fantastic butterfly and bird moments to come. Firstly we were so fortunate to get a view of another Silver-spotted Skipper and it was an honour to see it settle and flap its wings open and shut seeing the bright orange and the immaculate white spots on the underwing alike. Allowing for amazing photos opportunities for both for a species we tend to see with wings closed a lot. Precious intimate moments with an exceptional species. The Clouded Yellow flew by again and so did a Buzzard I’d seen a few minutes earlier soaring over well against the bright sky. I didn’t know where to point my camera between up and down and just loved taking in two of my favourite species of my two main types animals I love birds and butterflies.

It became one of my butterfly days of the year and ever today with just sheer quantity of how many species seen and how many about on the wing in lovely weather and well I saw them. Brown Argus, Small Copper and one of my best views probably the best this year of two precious Small Tortoiseshells gleaming in the sunlight on some sweet marjoram. awaited us too. A splendid natural moment with my original favourite butterfly species. The full wealth of butterflies seen can be found in my wildlife sightings summary below.

Other than more special looks at the host of Chalkhill Blues with lots of males chasing a female and two nicely chasing each other around the walk back to the car park was avian dominated. Firstly a smashing view of two Red Kites now soaring through the sky, one in particular exhilaratingly close overhead. Then I heard a sweet sharp chirp and was delighted to see it was the expected for this place and this annual walk of ours which is often so much about birds too Yellowhammer. One sat prominently in its illuminating yellow coat starkly standing out against one of a few bits of red vegetation in the landscape behind it. A great moment and around this time exotic looking House Martins circled overhead too. A sensational start to Saturday for us. I shall talk about what we did for the rest of the day in my next post. 

Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first Silver-spotted Skipper and Clouded Yellow of the year, four more of my favourite butterflies the Small Tortoiseshell, Red Admiral, Chalkhill Blue and Brown Argus with all of six among my favourites some of the most of my favourite butterflies I ever saw on one day I think which makes this stand out as a monumental butterfly day for me as it was on this trip last year, two of my favourite birds the Buzzard and Red Kite, Common Blue, Meadow Brown, Gatekeeper, Ringlet, Brimstone, Small White, Painted Lady, Yellowhammer, House Martin, Raven, Woodpigeons well, Chiffchaff well towards the end, Goldfinch, a nice robber fly, bees and an amazing amount of beautiful grasshoppers too.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Alone together at the Summer Sweets Festival

Sweet treats, flying carpets, and colorful blooms - it's a magical day in Falcon Harbor when the Summer Sweets Festival comes to town. Everything's so soft and pastel, it's such a lovely sight to take in. Standing on the bridge, getting a full view of the festivities, I feel peaceful, like despite everything going on in the world right now, as long as I'm here, I'm safe.

Since we've been busy with camp stuff and running the shop, Daisy Jane and I felt that we needed some time to ourselves. Up until now, we haven't really had one on one time together, something we knew had to be fixed.

Hard to believe that Daisy Jane's been here for over a year now - how different things were back then. She went from stagnating in life to living her dream, being independent and creating art. And not too long ago I was in a similar position, trying to find my place in the world but having a hard time doing so. People objected - usually for good reason - but we took the plunge anyway, stumbling more than succeeding, but finding our way eventually. To some, it's still not ideal, but to us, we're happy, and that's more than enough for us.

Like I said, it's been nice just the two of us hanging out. I mean, we did meet up with friends but for the most part it's only us off on our own while occasionally meeting up. Not that I don't miss the campers but sometimes you just gotta go off and do your own thing. I've been so wrapped up in camp events lately that I haven't had time to do that and it was starting to affect me. As I'm still learning, it's important not to get too wrapped up in things - and there's nothing wrong with taking things slow, even slacking off if you can.

Since Pai brought along Connie and the gang, I've been thinking about that a lot. As much as I enjoy and look forward to camp events, they take a lot out of me. I get that they're kinda necessary to keep things running - and it's not like we're running out of ideas (I'm starting to think that's becoming one of my worst fears if I ever get to that point) -  but it's important to know when to slow down. I've made the mistake of back to back events so now I know to space them out for everyone's sanity.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that burnout ain't good. Know the signs and take steps to prevent yourself from crashing and burning. Problem is that it can sneak up in unexpected ways, so it's extra important to catch the warning signs as soon as possible.

A festival may not seem like an ideal way to get some rest and relaxation, but this one's different. I think it's the peaceful atmosphere in general - things aren't too crazy or crowded, just people vibing in their own spaces. Kinda like a cafe's that's sorta busy but not too crowded or loud so you can just chill out and do your own thing without feeling like you're in the way. I always feel bad for taking up space, especially when I know that someone else needs it more than I do, which is why I tend to feel self conscious out in public. Doing stuff at a cafe sounds nice but actually doing it? I need to find the right place, the right atmosphere, the right spot that gives me privacy while not be closed off from everything else.

In other words, the Summer Sweets Festival's kinda like finding the perfect cafe to hang out in. The vibe's similar to the Traveling Fika, a relaxed atmosphere that doesn't compel you to have to try out everything all at once but instead encourages you to take your time and explore at your own pace. As much as I enjoy festivals - even more so as I've had a hand in behind the scenes for some - they can take a lot out of me. Again, there's nothing wrong with slowing down and taking your time.

While enjoying the festivities we ran into some friends. Turns out Emmaline and Minnie had the same idea of going to the festival for one on one time. I think this is the first time I've hung out with them since their wedding. As usual, they've been traveling around the universe, though they've been slowing down a bit and visiting home more often. It's still up in the air, but they're really considering the idea of buying a place in Rosevine. They'll still be traveling but that means they'll also have a home base to go back to.

The four of us enjoyed galaxy themed dango and fresh jasmine tea while catching up. I think since getting married, Emmaline and Minnie have fallen even more in love with each other. It's always so sweet seeing them side by side, holding hands and just being together. Like me and Daisy Jane, they also took a gamble by going off on their own - they were always more bolder than us in many ways despite being younger. In a way, they seem older, though it's more of a kinda had to grow up faster because of life circumstances.

Now that I think about it, no one really comes out unscathed from their upbringing. I'm lucky to not experience the traumas Emmaline and Minnie went through, though I can relate to being seemingly older than your peers. I'm not knocking my upbringing but the culture I grew up in - where my parents were also brought up - tends to put pressure on all of us. Maybe I'm biased because I'm the firstborn daughter in an Asian family but in a way I'm kinda expected to be maternal - not that I don't want to be, it's just the pressure of being that gets to me. It's the whole idea of you have to be the best, not just for you, but for your family - in other words, you have a lot to carry on your shoulders.

Then there's the whole debate of whether I should do something because it's for me or should consider my family over myself. Eh, that's something for another time I don't feel like getting into all that today.  Will I have to address it someday? Probably but I don't have the brain power to even touch on that.

After getting lost in the stars, the four of us hopped on a flying carpet for a scenic view of the harbor. They say that Falcon Harbor's known for its magical carpets, from their beautiful and intricate designs to the magic these threads possess, it's amazing to see how much work is put into making a single one. The view is absolutely gorgeous - it adds to the dreamy vibe of the festival.

Not too long after parting ways, we ran into Blossom. It was an unexpected surprise as she came here on sort of a whim. For the past year or so she's been hanging out with a time traveling professor and exploring various parts of the universe with him. She posts a lot of about her travels on social media and it sounds like she's having a blast.

Though as much as she enjoys going on adventures with the professor, Blossom finds him a hassle to get along with sometimes. She describes him as the kind of guy who's used to pretty much getting away with everything and doesn't really know how to take responsibility, so inevitably that ends up getting him into a lot of trouble. Jamie's heard stories about him and while he has good intentions, most tend to have a like-hate thing with him. I get where Blossom's coming from with the lack of foresight and accountability - like it's understandable if you're from an upbringing that neglects that but at the same time you're a grown adult so act like one.

Aside from that the professor guy sounds cool but to be honest I'm not sure if I can stand to be his traveling companion. Blossom finds him to be good company most of the time and he brings some excitement to her normally monotonous life. Now with her little sister moving across the country, Blossom finally has more freedom to do what she wants. The main reason why she accepted the professor's offer to join in on his adventures was to get away from her, which is understandable. Her sister's a lot like mine in which I love her, but she can be a bit much to deal with - and not ideal to live with 24/7. With her sister gone, Blossom doesn't have to deal with nosy siblings who, while well intentioned, make her feel bad for doing her own thing. And yes, I speak from experience.

Originally, Blossom and the professor were gonna go on a space adventure but that was scrapped at the last minute. Basically, the professor owed an old friend big time for something he sorta screwed up on the last time he visited, so now, after avoiding it for years, he has to finally pay up. It's not as bad as it sounds as he knew that he would have to own up sooner or later, plus Blossom knows them to be good friends.

As much as she wants to see the cosmos, she's been busy helping her sister with the moving out process so she'd rather have a lowkey weekend. Since she lives about 20 mins away from town, Blossom figured that maybe she'd pop in to join in on the festivities for a bit. So we enjoyed candied strawberries, tiger milk tea, and a boat ride around the harbor before going off our separate ways again.

At night, we met up again with Emmaline and Minnie to set up a picnic and watch the fireworks show. Seeing all those bright, vibrant colors against the dark night sky, it's a pretty sight to look at. We also chose a good spot to view it as there's not too many people around and the sound doesn't break our ears. After that, we hung around a bit longer, exploring stands we haven't gotten around to visiting yet. The quiet atmosphere along with the gentle glow of the lanterns - I almost didn't want to leave because it felt so comforting, especially when it's just us alone.

Did I just say "us" alone? Maybe it's just because we've known each other for so long and have a lot in common, but as much as I like having alone time, I'm starting to see myself more open to sharing that time with Daisy Jane. Not exactly interacting, but existing in the same space, doing our own thing. I still need my solo alone time, but I also wouldn't mind being alone together with Daisy Jane, like how we were at the festival.