#but props to her for avoiding the drama

[min3nc]

look i dont wanna hear about streamers being unable to control their chats because jaiden saw ppl hating on dream and went “no chat chill. no hate. ASS. BALLS? COCK???” and completely distracted the entire almost 12k ppl chat successfully.

[oh-meretseger]

part 7 - Date Me

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader

notes: fluff (your first date🥹) with a little more dialogue with the others <3, kind of 18+! [a prequel to the smut that comes in the next chapter hehe], explicit language, making out, groping, dry humping

word count: 5,3k

"Look, I know him. I can see he adores you. You shouldn't worry about it" Sasha glanced up at you for a second, then turned her attention right back at the work she was crocheting, comfortably propped up by a bunch of her fluffy pillows.

"I just— I thought the same when I talked to Marco, but he's been avoiding me like the fucking plague"

"Oh my god, quit being so dramatic" Ymir rolled her eyes with an insufferable agony on her face. She wasn't the most supportive when it came to boy drama, but you still considered her a good friend after this short time you've known her - so when she came over to your dorm on her way to meet up with Historia, you decided to cry out all your pent-up frustration to the girls. "I just saw you two talking after morning class"

"AND he literally agreed to the movie night with us tomorrow, just us three" Sasha added.

"Yeah but— Y'know, I mentioned the night of the party and he instantly changed the subject" you replied quietly as your eyes dropped to your lap. "He doesn't even look at me like it happened, he doesn't joke with me or touch me—"

"What, do you expect him to finger you in front of the whole class?" Sasha frowned, pointing at you with her crochet hook.

"EEWWW" Ymir yelled out, wrinkling her freckled nose in utter disgust, and you shook your head as you tried to bite back your chuckle. You kinda started to regret telling them.

"NO, but— do you understand what I'm saying?"

"No" Ymir bluntly replied as she kept pushing herself off the desk, spinning on Sasha's swivel chair with an ungodly speed.

"I do, but again, I don't think he feels any differently about you" Sasha said without looking up from her work. "Just talk to him, pookie"

"For real. Y'all are like two mentally handicapped middle schoolers" Ymir pulled a face at you, then looked up at the ceiling, opening her arms theatrically. "Just kill them, dear God, don't make them suffer anymore"

"Get lost" you grinned as you grabbed the closest pillow on your bed to toss it right against her head. "You're right though, I should've just initiated... Jean's just always so straightforward, him being so awkward about it catches me off guard"

It's almost been a week since Connie's party and as soon as you ran into Jean on Monday, something instantly felt off. 'Missed my dumb ass?' you asked and he looked away sheepishly 'I don't really miss any body parts', seeming flustered before swiftly changing the subject to civil law (ok, great move, Jean). You had no idea what could be going on, you've never seen Jean being so awkward. Maybe even embarrassed. But why is he embarrassed? Maybe he regrets it..?

Even though you were originally the one to kick against the vulnerable moments happening between you two, you still felt like your subconscious hopes were shattered into pieces.

"Pfft, awkward" Ymir snorted. "I still can't believe the king of arrogance himself is acting sheepish about this shit"

"He's not arrogant" Sasha smirked up at her and you smiled. Kind of the same conversation happened between you when you were the one despising Jean's cocky attitude, just a few months ago. "You just don't know him that well"

Ymir huffed condescendingly.

"Who knows anyway what them stupid men have sloshing around in their ugly skulls" she grimaced as she momentarily stopped spinning, hugging her pulled up knees. "Instead of a brain"

"Jean has a pretty skull though" you pouted, but you knew there was no use arguing. You could point your finger at any man, and Ymir would wrinkle her nose in disgust at every one of them.

"Bruh" Ymir glared at you. "That man looks like a ponderosa pine with limbs, you're a dumbass for crying about him"

"BAHHHAHAHA" laughter bursted out of Sasha uncontrollably, and you stared at her squeezing her eyes, mouth wide open as she screamed hysterically, as if Ymir just dropped the most hilarious joke on planet Earth.

"What on earth is a ponderosa" you gazed blankly, then scoffed at Sasha as she wiped her tears. "And what the hell are you laughing at? A few days ago she told you Niccolo looked like a dumpling with a blonde mop on top of it"

"I like dumplings" Sasha shrugged as her shoulders shook with laughter and a satisfied grin grew on Ymir's face.

"See?" Ymir raised her eyebrow at you, then started pushing herself again to get the swivel chair to reach a space shuttle's centripetal force. "I think you should quit thinking about his praying mantis lookin' ass, like, altogether"

A small chuckle bursted out of you but you tried your best to bite it back, wanting to keep the situation serious, even though Sasha was still wheezing in the background.

"What? He should actually be grateful a girl like you let him touch her princess parts" Ymir sneered at you scornfully. "I mean, I'm not trying to judge your taste in men, but girl—"

"Yeah, I can see that" you grimaced at her. "You're not judging, I'm just naturally attracted to pine trees and you support my fetish"

"Hey, all the way" Ymir started spinning herself the other way. "If that's what you're into"

"Thanks a lot"

"You know I understand you girls, I just don't condone you crying after all these athletes that are gross and stink like a skunk after practice, and act like dickheads after you touch their pickle"

"Fair" Sasha glanced up, and you continued your game trying to hit Ymir in the head with all the pillows and stuffies you could find in the room as she swivelled with the speed of a tumble dryer.

Until Sasha bursted out laughing once again.

"What's so funny?"

"If I told you a few months ago you were gonna be all lovey-dovey about Jean you would've decked me" Sasha chuckled and you felt your stomach flip at her words. Lovey-dovey, huh?

"I'd never deck you, Sasha"

"I would" Ymir chimed in.

"You'd deck anyone" you chuckled, holding your arms up to your head to protect yourself from Ymir's vengeful blow as she launched a pillow back at you with the force of her insane spinning.

"Indeed" she replied, then stopped the swivel chair, finger gunning at you as she got up. "And now if you'll forgive me, I have an angel to meet who absolutely never stinks like a skunk"

"My brother in Christ, only God can forgive you for the shit you've said in this room" Sasha said without looking up and you laughed as Ymir stumbled to the door, obviously feeling dizzy from turning about three million times in the last twenty minutes.

"Tell Hisu we're saying hi!"

"Ight, see ya fools!" the door slammed shut behind Ymir and you looked at Sasha's skilled hands moving for a few silent seconds. Jean filled your mind like a heavy, intoxicating fog at all times, making every single cell in your body tingle with excitement. You wanted more. So much more of him.

"Look!" Sasha jumped to her feet as she finished her work, the crochet hook hanging from the piece of clothing she just made herself. She held the skirt up to her hips as she stood in front of the mirror. "What do you think?"

"It's really cute" you grinned at her reflection. "Colorful and pretty, just like you"

Although your dilemma seemingly dissolved, you still wasn't a hundred percent sure that Sasha was right. Your mind told you to believe her, considering how she was one of the few people who truly knew Jean - but your curiosity still got the best of you. That day, while Sasha went lurking around in the kitchen to watch Niccolo cook, you turned to Connie above your half eaten lunch in the canteen.

"Connie..."

"That's me" he replied, mouth full of food as he glanced at you, earning a quick roll of your eyes.

"Did Jean tell you anything about being mad at me?"

"Nah, why?"

"He's avoiding me" you said as your eyes dropped to your fork, jumbling the food around in your plate.

"He's trying his best not to fuck you, probably" Connie shrugged and you almost choked on your own saliva.

"You mean like— Did he—tell you?" you asked as you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment. You absolutely didn't calculate on the possibility of Connie knowing all about your naughty business when you opened this topic.

"Tell me what" he furrowed his eyebrows and your heart almost jumped out of your chest. Fuck. You basically just told on yourself.

"Nothing, forget it" you muttered, but looking at Connie's expression, you already knew it was too late. The bright red tint of your face probably told him everything he needed to know.

"NO" Connie slammed his fists on the table, cutlery clattering against your plates with the devastating sound of his realization. You squeezed your eyes.  "Say sike right now"

"Stop"

"You FUCKED?!" he yelled as he stared at you, jaw hanging open in utter shock, and your hands instantly moved to your eyes as a few turning heads around you caught your eye.

"Connie!" you hissed angrily, but there was no amount of sternness that could jolt him out of his shocked state.

"I can't believe that little dipshit didn't tell me" his eyes stared at you widened. "Was it good?"

"What?! No—I mean yeah, but—Connie, no, you don't get it" you stuttered as you tried to calm and collect your thoughts. "I talked to Marco beforehand and—"

"About fucking Jean?"

"No, about us, and how he feels—or, like—how he assumes he feels, and how I feel—"

"Huh?" Connie blinked at you. "Who feels what?"

"HIM. I mean, us both. I don't know what, but— I thought we both felt it, but now I'm not sure anymore and I'm starting to think he just misunderstood him, and all he felt was something temporary and completely different from what I feel" you gabbled in one breath, but looking at Connie's motionless face, you quickly realized it only made sense in your head. "You know?"

"You are on so many drugs" Connie said blankly and you sighed, defeated.

"Nevermind, forget it"

"So... You banged, but it was bad?"

You and Connie gazed at each other for a good few moments before you opened your mouth to reply, still not sure you were talking to an actual cognitive being. "Where's the factory reset button on you?"

He was at least considerate enough to drop the stupid questions when Reiner appeared at your table, grinning and happy to see your now familiar faces, then joined you having lunch - while ditching his teammates at the other table who wore the same varsity jackets as him, seemingly confused as to why Reiner chose to sit with you two randos.

But you didn't mind, moreover, were glad you finally got to talk to him a little more after just a few exchanged sentences at Connie's party. From the outside, Reiner looked exactly like your typical buff, intimidating jock type, but as soon as he spoke to you and Connie with that soft smile, a joyful warmth filled your chest at the realization: he was just a sweetheart in a huge, scary body.

"'Aight, I'll see you guys around" you grabbed your tray as you prepared to leave, but Reiner's hand stopped you in your tracks as it reached for your arm.

"Wait, which way y'going?"

"To the library" you smiled at him and he immediately returned it, a grin plastered on his face as he threw his gym bag over his shoulder.

"You can walk me to my class, then"

"Yeah? Should I drop you off on my way there?" you laughed and Reiner's warm eyes glared into yours as he winked at you.

"I know I'm in safe hands with you"

As you said bye to Connie and you felt Reiner softly place his hand on your waist to guide you to the way out of the canteen, you raised your eyes to suddenly meet a pair of familiarly intense hazel ones. Jean sauntered your way and you muttered a quiet 'hi' as he shook hands with Reiner while passing. His scent hit your nose and you felt dizzy all of a sudden, but he seemed so nonchalant and absolutely not touched by seeing Reiner by your side that you quickly shook the feeling off. He doesn't care.

Oh, but he did, very much so.

He had to force himself to relieve the clench of his jaw to save his teeth from breaking. Why did Reiner touch your waist like that? Who the fuck does he think he is? You barely even know him. And where the fuck are you going with him, just you two? Jean felt his muscles tense up, making great effort not to look back as he walked towards Connie, and away from you.

"What the fuck was that?" a growl bursted out of Jean as soon as he reached Connie's table.

"Dude, how can you fuck it up this bad? You have it so easy" Connie immediately complained in response and Jean sat down with a confused frown.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're all she talked about, she actually went fucking nuts about ten minutes ago—"

"What? Why?" Jean cut him off, the tension of his muscles increasing as he got more impatient.

"She asked me if you were mad at her, and I said no, and she told me you two fucked—" Connie jabbered, but Jean's frustration took over again.

"Okay, she most definitely did not tell you that" he shook his head.

"Whatever, you kept it a secret from me anyway, so I'm quite disappointed in you at the moment, don't cut me off" Connie replied like the assertive gentleman he was. "Anyways, now she thinks you just wanted to get her laid and dip cause you avoid her, or whatever"

"What?! That's stupid" Jean's eyebrows furrowed and he felt his heartbeat intensify. Is that really what you think? The exact opposite was what he was trying to do. After that drunken night, Jean was scared you'll get the wrong impression and think he just wants to fool around. However, after talking to Marco, he was certain in one thing: he didn't want the two of you to stay casual, and he wanted you on the same page as him. "Why the hell would I dip?"

"THAT'S what I'm saying, you have it so easy, man. She's infatuated with you. Don't fuck it up"

"Where did that word come from?" one of Jean's eyebrows raised in suspicion and Connie shrugged.

"I was reading Sasha's magazine in class earlier" he replied and Jean shook his head with a smile. The nervous beating of his heart and the uneasy feeling in his stomach remained - an awful guilt started to twist his mind as he imagined you having these stupid thoughts. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel like he didn't cherish all the intimate moments that'd happened between you like the most precious little treasure in his heart. He wanted more, so much more, but he was so scared of you believing sex was all he wanted from you.

"I don't want to fuck it up, but—" Jean nervously rubbed his temple. "I was thinking earlier—"

"Wow, impressive" Connie said bluntly and Jean's face dropped.

"Shut the fuck up" he growled, then slapped Connie's hand away as he poked his hand.

"You're holding the knife in the wrong hand, by the way"

Jean stared at him for a few moments, contemplating if he should just stab that knife into his own neck.

"I'm left-handed, you fucking dumbass"

You smiled at Reiner one last time before you parted ways in front of his class, then continued your way to the library. Reiner was a sweet guy - he gave you the impression of a seemingly confident, but secretly timid man who mastered the art of flirting, yet still became flustered when the same flirty comments were thrown right back at him. Although they were light-hearted, you didn't take them seriously. He probably flirted like that with most of the girls around campus.

You turned left at the familiar bookshelf, making your way to your favorite quiet corner of the library. Though it looked like the single table there was already occupied. You gazed at the back of the black jacket that had hand-painted lettering on it, dark strands of hair falling to his shoulder and moving with a familiar shine as he turned his head to the sound of your steps.

"Eren" you smiled at him, trying not to spontaneously burst into flames at the intensity of his bright greenish eyes piercing through yours. Eren closed the book in his hand, kindly removing his crossed legs from the other chair and moving over so you could get seated. "What are you reading?"

You grabbed the book handed to you, examining the dark cover of The Black Cat by Edgar Allan Poe. Your eyes flicking to the other two books lying on the table, you instantly realized Eren didn't pick them for himself - you knew Mikasa was mad about gothic literature. A smile curved your lips at the thought of Eren browsing around for hours, looking for books that'd make Mikasa happy.

How sweet.

"Where did you leave your mullet-man?" Eren asked with a smirk and you lifted your gaze at the metallic sound hitting your ear. A balisong was spinning and turning smoothly between Eren's fingers, the insane speed of his effortless movements catching you off guard. It could've been interpreted as kind of a threat, but you knew Eren.

You didn't expect any less from a man who regularly visited bars around campus to find dudes that harassed vulnerable, drunk girls, and beat those dudes up just for fun.

"I don't have any cash, if you're trying to threaten me" you said and Eren laughed as your eyes were glued to the effortless flicking of his wrist, the butterfly knife swinging around in the air like a toy. "But I—I don't know, his business is not mine"

"Ah, right" Eren all-knowingly smiled as he closed the balisong. "That's why he's followed you here"

"What?" you turned your head to follow Eren's eyes with a confused frown and your heart skipped a beat as you saw Jean's tall frame walking towards you.

"Your business is his, apparently" Eren winked at you and put his knife in his pocket, then grabbed the books as he stood up. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone"

You felt your cheeks heat up at his comment. He knew exactly how to make you flustered in just seconds.

"I know those are for Mikasa, ya big ass lovebird" you said to quickly snap back at him, earning a roll of his eyes and an irritated huff. Eren didn't like you knowing about the existance of his emotions, apparently. It was never fully obvious to you whether him and Mikasa were together or not, but they basically lived their lives attached at the hip, so it wasn't hard to figure.

"Look who decided to finally get into a six foot radius of a book" Eren turned to Jean to greet him with a huge grin.

"What are you doing here?" Jean frowned at Eren. "You're not illiterate anymore?! You could've told us, we would've thrown a party or something"

You chuckled, although you tried to keep it quiet. These stand-offs between Jean and Eren could get brutal and usually, the more you gave voice to your amusement, the more hostile they got.

"There was a party, I just timed it to coincide with the hockey team's twentyseventh lost game of this season, that must be why you missed it" Eren deadpanned. "Sorry"

You bursted out laughing this time, the honest hurt on Jean's face at Eren's stupid remark was just too much to bear.

"Your girl laughs at my jokes harder than yours" Eren grinned, and you immediately blushed at the title. You're not even 'his girl'. Though you weren't so quick to correct him. "Get your shit together, my man"

"Alright Jäger, we get it, your balls finally dropped" Jean sat down next to you as his hand motioned for Eren to go away. "Now walk. And never stop"

"Oof, did someone feed you after midnight, Kirstein?" Eren smiled as he looked to you, then winked at you one more time before turning to leave. "Bye, little birds"

"Bye, Romeo!" you sneered at him and looked at his head shaking as he walked away.

Your eyes darted to Jean as a moment of silence set between you and he felt himself get flustered right away. He felt unbelievably weak for a second as he realized how he always melted under the twinkle in your beautiful big eyes. He liked to think he's got his emotions under control at all times, but the way he became bewitched by how pretty you are every single time told him otherwise. Your soft lips curved into a slight smile, pretty little freckles on your nose moving with the movements of your face, your eyelashes slowly blinking, alluring Jean to breathlessly lose himself in the endless depth of your eyes. He just couldn't not stare.

"You love each other, just admit it" you smirked at him and Jean snapped out of his trance, gritting his teeth.

"He's an idiot"

"Sure" you smiled to yourself, knowing exactly what was actually hidden behind Eren and Jean's whole hating-each-other's-guts facade.

"Hey, I wanted to ask you something—" Jean's eyes dropped to his hands on the table, his fingers nervously fidgeting as he tried to gather all his strength to force the words out. "I just—I don't want you to feel like fooling around is all I'm interested in"

"Is it not?" you cheekily raised an eyebrow as you bit back your smile, secretly loving the way this big and gruffy man got so shy and timid all of a sudden.

"No, it's not. And you know that" Jean replied bluntly as his eyes shot to yours and your heart jumped in your chest at the intense eye contact. He was right, you did. Your eyes flicked to his again as you heard your name roll off his tongue, sounding so beautifully sweet. "I’m taking you out on a date"

"Do I have a say in it?" you chuckled, and although it sounded more like a demand, your heart still started fluttering with pure happiness.

"No" he smirked, his heart unknowingly matching the fluttering of yours as he looked at you smile. "Date me, it's a command"

"Yes, sir!" you nodded. You didn't want to further force a conversation about his exact thoughts and feelings, you just felt happy to see where things were going. "So no fooling around, you said?"

"Uh-uh" he shook his head, then smirked as his eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint. "For now, at least. What do you say?"

"Sounds good" you returned his playful smile. You'll be curious to see how long he'd obey his rule. "Tomorrow night?"

The key turned in the lock, the door slowly opened and your hand quickly started to fumble around to find the light switch. You walked into the empty dorm as it lit up, then swiftly reached out to your night lamp to switch to that light instead. It was more friendly.

The room was empty, but that didn't take you by surprise. After you and Jean cancelled on you three's movie night, Sasha was more than happy to go home for the weekend instead, leaving the dorm empty for you on accident. She was internally in hysterics as soon as she heard about your little date, but you tried your best to convince her it was just a "casual hangout, nothing special", so she left it to you.

Jean stepped in the dorm after you, closing the door behind him. A comfortable silence filled the room as he shook his jacket off of his shoulders, laying it on Sasha's swivel chair. Warmth spread in your chest as you felt his scent fill your nose, his presence making the butterflies in your stomach flap around in ecstasy.

"Can I use your charger?" he grabbed the cable lying on your bed.

"Sure" you replied as you kicked off your shoes, then watched as he plugged his phone in. The dark band shirt fit loose on his broad shoulders, soft strands of ashy brown hair fell to his neck, and the way the warm light grazed the side profile of his pretty face made you melt.

Jean flopped down on your bed, making you immediately jump to push him off.

"NO!" you pressed your palms on his back as hard as you could, but he just chuckled, not flinching one bit. "Get your outside clothes off my bed!"

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot you're clinically insane"

"Take these off" you tugged on Jean's cargos with a frown. He just sat on the bus with those pants, you couldn't have all the nasty bus-germs all over your clean bed.

"Hey, cool it. I told you, no naughty stuff" he smirked up at you and you chuckled. Right, no naughty stuff. We’ll see.

“Take it off��

Jean felt the blood in his body start to wander to a different place from his brain as memories flooded his mind at hearing your demanding tone. He couldn’t be more confident in his decision to slow things down with you - but he felt his presence of mind fading as your eyes blinked at him with that playful glint.

“Your wish is my command, smartass” Jean kicked off his shoes and you bit down on your lower lip as you watched his hands move to fumble with the buckle of his belt. You felt a familiar heat spread in your core as you looked at him and you hesitated for a moment before reaching for the button of your own jeans.

Neither of you really overdressed for your cute little date. You agreed that a simple milkshake in the café near the campus and a walk in the park would perfectly fit for a first date, eliminating any excessive pressure and frustration of a fancier one. Jean told you to dress ‘sleazy’ and ‘preferably like a homeless person’, so you did just that, you even kinda matched with him in your baggy jeans and big hoodie. Jean secretly hoped it’d be easier to keep his composure this way, but homeless-you mesmerized him just as much as if you dressed up, maybe even a little more. He found your smaller frame in those huge clothes adorable - especially now that he knew what you were hiding under them.

The plan worked, with some of the pressure lifted off, it felt amazing to be in his presence. An unknown kind of happiness filled both of your brains as hours flew by, your conversation only stopping when your eyes sank too deep into each other, erasing all existing thoughts in your hazy minds.

“You won’t make me take a shower this time?” Jean smirked as he pulled his legs out of his cargo pants, then quickly squeezed his eyes shut when his eyes flicked up to you just as your baggy jeans fell to your ankles. He already felt himself getting hard as the soft skin of your beautiful legs caught his eye. Oh, no.

“No, not this time” you smiled, then pulled your hoodie to take it off. Jean sat there spellbound as he watched you lay your clothes on a chair, then put your glasses on the desk, light grazing the round ouline of your ass in your cute little panties, a tight cropped top letting the skin on the curve of your beautiful waist show. He felt the blood rush to his groin and you turned around, your hard nipples of your perfect tits showing through the small top, letting him know you had no bra on all along.

You bit your lower lip as you looked at Jean, his pretty lips parted as he stared at you, a growing bulge in his boxers between his deliciously spread thighs telling you he liked the view just as much as you did.

“This is not a good idea”

“Why? We’re not gonna do anything” you replied softly while you stepped closer to Jean, standing between his legs as he looked up to you with already flushed cheeks. His lashes fluttered as your fingers found their way through his hair. “You said it yourself, right?”

“Right” Jean mumbled as his eyes closed at the heavenly feeling of your touch. His face looked so beautiful like this, him melting between your hands, you just couldn’t help leaning down to press a soft kiss on his lips.

The kiss was sweet and slow, full of tender emotions. Although it still sent a burning heat through both of your cores, this time it also felt so delicately warm and affectionate.

Your lips started moving in perfect sync as you laid down on your bed, hands slowly roaming each other’s bodies, gentle strokes and deep, passionate kisses heating them up. Your sense of time vanished as you made out and the wet noises of your lips filled the room, along with your desperate whimpers and Jean’s quiet groans as your hips slowly rolled into his, one of your legs wrapped around him as you laid on your sides. The wet spot on your panties rubbed on his aching bulge so well, Jean couldn’t help his fingers digging into your hips, driving them to grind into him harder.

“You feel so good, baby” he moaned into your mouth and another whimper fell from yours in response. His warm tongue in your mouth, his strong hands groping you and the friction of grinding on his bulge was enough to already push you to the edge.

“Y—you too, Jean” you moaned back, but neither of you moved your hands to each other’s desperately aching, sensitive parts. Neither of you took it further.

Jean meant what he said - even if you both knew you weren’t going to endure very long, he wanted you to know he’s not there for the fun only. He felt like listening to your laughter and looking into your sparkling eyes above your milkshakes was just as fun as your hands brushing, then gently intertwining while you walked in the park, or as pulling on your hair to leave sloppy kisses all over your neck while you moaned in pleasure.

“D’you wanna stay the night?” you asked quietly as your hands cupped each side of his jaw, admiring the golden glint of his beautiful hazel eyes. “Please”

“Of course” he softly smiled at you.

Jean felt like he was on cloud nine. For him, fun was the way your muffled laughing sounded and how radiant your pretty face looked in the mirror while you both brushed your teeth in the bathroom, or the tingling he felt as your bare skin brushed against each other, and also watching you do your nightly routine before lying down in your bed and having the silliest, most stupid coversations as you laughed together. Fun was also the intense eye contact before tangling into each other again, sloppily making out and grinding heavily until both of your underwear was soaked with the mixture of your wetness and the precum leaking from his sensitive tip.

But the most fun part was hugging you tightly, feeling the warmth of your body and inhaling the sweet scent of your hair as you pressed your ass into Jean’s hard-on before quickly drifting off in the safe embrace of his strong arms. Even like this, he felt so full, so at peace.

Jean couldn’t have been happier.

[y13evie]

hi i love love your writing!! would you write a smut for james wilson from house? maybe reader is working on house's team, or just works at the hospital. slight age gap also if that's okay!

ty for writing it if you choose it!! <33

clear your mind

omg i am SO sorry for the wait, my dear. i hope you enjoy!!

tags: age gap, smut, fuckin on da job

the tension was consuming you. day and night, all you could think about was him. there have been countless nights where you touched yourself while creating fake scenarios of you two. but that’s irrelevant right now. you’re supposed to be helping your team figure out what may be wrong with your critical patient. house notices you aren’t concentrated.

“you. what’ve you got?”. he tilts his head at you. you know he was asking you on purpose, everything he did had reasoning. you think of something fast. and it’s obvious.

“appendicitis?”

“jesus. who gave you a medical degree? get out and clear your head, you need it.”

god he was harsh. but he was right. you nodded at your colleagues as house shooed you out. you scolded yourself for not separating your work and home life. it wasn’t your fault though. james was so smart, so handsome, so much older. it’s like he was asking to be swooned over.

to clear your head you decided to hang out with your favorite nurse before getting back to work. she knew the feelings you had for james and supported your slightly problematic crush. she nursed in the oncology department, so you treaded the waters to her office very carefully. due to your lack of attention to your surroundings, you managed to walk right into the very man you’re avoiding.

“oh, hi. i actually needed to talk to you about something if you have a moment”. he looked at you with those eyes. everyone might call you crazy but you swear that coworkers don’t look at each other the way he looks at you.

“i’m busy. bye”. you nudged past him, something unusual as it’s normal for you to be so bubbly around him.

you barge into your friend's office and immediately throw yourself onto her beanbag.

“i’m a failure”. your muffled voice dripping with drama. she peeled her eyes off of her reports to you. it was quite a humorous sight, your face in the bean bag as you kick your feet like a toddler.

“what happened this time, sis.”. she walks over to you and sits criss cross applesauce, waiting for you to spill. you prop your head up on your hands and begin your story from the moment house kicked you out and basically called you an idiot.

the way she bit her lip in an effort to stifle her laughter tells you she’s not taking your sob story very seriously.

“it’s not funny!” you huffed. now you really looked like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

that did it for her. she began to laugh a little.

“it’s so funny. you’re a mess, babe! i need you to pick yourself up and go get your old man.”. you could tell she’s serious but can’t help but giggle at ‘old man’. that’s something she always nagged you about.

you got yourself back onto your feet and decided she was right. it was probably the only way you could get those silly thoughts out of your head. you thanked your friend for helping you out and marched out of her office. just as you were about to reach the department of diagnostic medicine, you heard a familiar voice.

“hey. we need to talk now.”. you turned around and faced him. all the bravery in your heart melted as soon as you came face to face with james wilson.

“uhm..sure? what about?” you questioned. there was what felt like an endless pit in your stomach, you almost wanted to order an MRI. he instructed you to follow him to his office, which of course, you obeyed.

when you arrived at his office he let you walk in first, being sure to lock the door once you both were in. you began to toy with the stitching of your white coat. he sits at the edge of his desk, waiting for you to look up.

“what’s going on?” he questions you this time. you paused for a moment, trying to decipher what he’s trying to say.

“what?”

“the way you walked right past me today. what was that about?”. he pushes his question further, expecting an answer to your coldness.

your heart dropped once you understood what he meant. you looked at him with pleading eyes, scanning his face for how he’s feeling.

“i’ve had something on my mind. i’m really, really sorry. you’re the last person i want to ignore.”

“so you’re ignoring me?” you can tell he isn’t upset as a sly smile makes its way into his face. you roll your eyes as he beckons you to come a little closer.

“what’s on your mind?”. he knows how you feel. it’s painfully obvious. he just wants to hear you say it.

you claim it’s nothing and wave it off as stress, but he knows you’re lying. he knows you’re lying when you come even closer to him, positioning yourself right between his legs that are hanging off his desk. he knows you’re lying when you can’t help but stare at the way his pants are tightening around his crotch.

“you know how unprofessional this is, right? or do you just wanna feel me inside of you.”. you’re done with him teasing you. you shut him up by placing a soft kiss on lips, which then led to a makeout session that had his hands roaming your body. and you let him. the way you grind on him in desperation tells him everything he needs to know.

he allows you to face the desk, commanding you to take off your pants and lean over it. you do exactly as he says. james takes absolutely no time to plow into you. you were expecting him to be more gentle, but for some reason you were drunk on this feeling. the way his cock is hitting your most sensitive spots over, and over again is driving you mad.

“y’know how long i’ve wanted to do this? feel you around me just like this. i bet you wanted this too, huh.”. all you can do is pathetically nod your head and quietly sob into his desk. your cries did nothing but make him twitch inside of you, groans coming deep from within his throat.

you felt your back instinctively arch further as you feel your orgasm building up. just as you were about to come undone, he stopped. you gasp as he pulls out and just looks at you. you turn around and see him stroking his length. he gently grabs your face with his free hand and tilts it downwards. you knew what he wanted. and you wanted to make him feel good.

as you got down on your knees you made sure to replace his hand with your own, setting an absurdly slow pace. you swiped your thumb across the slit that was leaking beads of precum and placed your mouth onto his tip. you slowly bobbed up and down to get accustomed to his size, and then began to take him farther and farther. james gripped your hair tightly as a disorganized string of swears left his mouth.

“so good f’me baby, being such a good girl taking me like this”.

his praises encouraged you to work your mouth even faster. the way he whimpered and moaned out your name told you he was getting close. focusing on his tip while using your hand for the rest of his cock is what sent him over the edge. he thrusted into your mouth a few times to help ride out his high. you felt so proud of yourself for making such a mess of him.

james was overstimulated and tired, but he needed to make his girl feel good. he sat you back down onto his desk and instructed you to lean back. he was drooling at the sight of your pussy all open and wet for you. he wanted to go slow with you but god you looked so desperate. he got onto one of his knees and began ravaging you. your hands are kneading as his hair as he makes circles around your clit with his tongue. the sounds are lewd but neither of you care. he’s teasing your entrance with his curled fingers before plunging them into you. the feeling of him sucking your puffy clit with the sensation of hitting your sweet spot was so overwhelming. tears ran down your face as your orgasm comes crashing over you.

james allows you to calm yourself down before helping you put your outfit back in. he wishes he had the time to give you proper aftercare and praise you for how great you made him feel, but he can’t. instead he settles for leaving a mix of small and passionate kisses all over your face while murmuring sweet praises in between each breath. as you were reaching for the doorknob james asks you what you’ve been waiting to hear.

“hey, would you like to get dinner tonight?”

before “sneakily” exiting his office you throw him a thumbs up and sweet smile. god, you could get used to this.

[ilovehimyourhonour]

hiii! can i request riki with prompt 41, if thats okay? thank you!!!

end live

📂 bf! idol! nishimura riki x idol! fem! reader . youre baking cookies and niki worries for your safety. mentions of broken glass?? , reader is portrayed as a female and is apart of a kpop group , wasnt proofread. inspo — prompt 41: them having a moment when their lover drops a glass, checking them over for injuries .

navigation

Sometimes you hate yourself for making promises, and right now was one of those times.

Yesterday, in the spur of the moment, you had promised your fans a live. But now, you wanted nothing more than to stay where you sat—your boyfriend’s head nuzzled in your lap as he pretends to watch the drama playing on the tv.

“Ni-ki,” you mutter. Nothing. “Ni-ki?” You place your hand on your boyfriends forehead, attempting to turn his head to face you.

His eyes are hooded, sleep practically begging to take over. “Hmm?”

“I gotta get up, baby.” He simply nods, aware of the promise you made to your fans—mostly because he heard you groan about it all day. “You can sleep,” you smile at him once your off the couch. He lays back down across the cushions and you crouch next to him.

“Wake me up when your done, I want you to play with my hair again.” You cant help but grin wider, you hum softly and press a delicate kiss to his forehead.

As you gathered your baking supplies you had the live propped up and streaming, the viewer number grew with each second, comments flooding in—fan’s greeting, asking questions, and proclaiming their love for you and your group. As you measured and mixed ingredients you mindlessly spoke anything that popped into your head, recent schedules and upcoming events your group would be partaking in—and once you had nothing left to say you started humming songs produced by your group.

As you placed the cookie pan into the oven three of your group members enter the kitchen, happily throwing themselves into the live stream. They read and answer questions and complement the smell emitting from the oven.

“She’s our little baker,” one of them grins as she scans the comments, looking for another subject or question to read aloud.

“Hey, did you know your boy-” the final missing member enters the kitchen, her thumb pointed over her shoulder—directing to the living room, where Ni-ki laid asleep on the couch. You casually take a step out of the camera’s view, a finger coming to your lips and your leader catches the hint. “Did you know your baking is really good? Smells incredible.” She chuckles rather awkwardly as she appears on screen and peers over the other girl’s shoulders, trying to get a glimpse at the comments—hoping no one had caught her nearly slip up.

Once the cookies come from the oven you place all but one onto a glass decorative plate, the five of you devour the warm sweets and the girls return to their respective lives. You wave them each goodbye and begin cleaning up the mess you had made throughout the whole process. As you wipe the counter directly in front of the camera you seem to forget the glass mixing bowls close proximity, your elbow bumps against the side—sending the bowl plummeting to the floor, barely missing your feet as it shatters. You automatically jump backwards, trying to avoid cutting your feet.

A soft thud is heard from the next room and a figure comes flying into the kitchen, and the figure just so happens to me the Nishimura Riki. Just your luck. As he steps into frame he falters in his steps as he takes in the location of the broken glass. He eventually takes a risk and steps into a spot he hopes there isn’t any hidden shards.

“Are you okay?” He worries, his hands coming to cup your cheeks, eyes flickering over your face and all the way down to your feet. “Did you get cut?” He frowns at your silence. “Sweetheart? Please answer me.”

“The lives still going,” your voice is barely a whisper, but you feel his tender touch stiffen. He slowly peers over towards the phone, still propped up and recording. Why hadn’t the company shut it down the moment he stepped into the shot?

The picture on the screen was the two of you, him cradling your face as the two of you glance at the screen. Comments flood in faster than ever before as you pull yourself from Ni-ki’s hold.

“See you guys…um…next time.” You smile awkwardly, casting Ni-ki a glance before turning back to the screen. A comment catches your attention as you click the end live button.

Now we know who she saved that cookie for.

© ilovehimyourhonour

[ennn]

Initial Agatha All Along Ep 6 Meta Thoughts + Reactions

You good? I think I'm actually pretty good with what we got.

One of the struggles I've had so far with Billy is that Joe Locke always seemed more likeable than Teen but this episode convinced me that was because the boy wasn't being really himself.

Look I honestly usually don't give a shit about kid or teenager characters but this boy is winning me over. Dammit, show.

That "interrogation" scene was IN-credible and props to Joe Locke for holding it together for as long as he could. He still almost very nearly broke but who can blame him honestly.

Actually looking forward to the real Billy and Agatha bonding. Because they're both dumbass bitches. Both of them falling off things and failing at running? AMAZING.

I'm absolutely avoiding Twitter because I know some folks will be mad Billy got his boyfriend kiss but guys GUYS the odds of a kiss between Agatha and Rio happening later just got legitimately good

Will be genuinely upset if Kathryn Hahn does not get an Emmy for all of the work and talent she's showing off here, she's so full-throated in her performance and Agatha is such a captivating, complicated character

I mean, Agatha's being like a literal sad wet cat here but she's such a survivor and a performer. She will muscle her way through her trauma with the strength of her charisma and deal with it later thank you very much. She's so damn funny (and so sad if you stop and think about it)

Amazing consistent characterisation with Agatha being absolutely fascinated with powerful witchcraft and knowing her stuff. The energy she brings here is so similar to how she got studying Wanda's magic. The Detective Agnes character really isn't that far off from who she is. She's a nerd! She loves investigating. She's got big professor energy.

Crap, this show is making me want to rewatch Wandavision. Because people have told me that she always had a soft spot for Billy and Billy liked her and ugh damn this cross-marketing is working.

But like Agatha being honestly proud of him surviving, Agatha who's done terrible things to survive, knowing how witches have survived in a world that's not been kind to them. Agatha who's telling him that it's okay he did the things he did, because she's been telling those things to herself.

I was right! Rio was absolutely not physically there in person for those episode 1 house scenes given that the mirror was a painting. Among other things, it would have been weird for her to have gone into the house and then returned to blow up that door.

"You and your mother have a tell." "Which is?" "Convenient for me." -> Absolute zinger of a line. I love love love how Agatha, for all her pathetic loser energy, is being shown as smart and cunning. She always suspected! She knows things!

Also i think we've established by now that, in this show and universe at least, that witches are all some level of awful and can and will fuck up people's lives (intentionally or not).

This episode was designed to be kind of a tonal palette cleanser after all the angst and drama of Ep 5 and it worked, I think!

[bullet-prooflove]

Hey!

Could I request

Surfing, sand and waves with JD Dempsey please?

Tagging: @kmc1989 @burningpeachpuppy @luckyladycreator2 @toheavenwmydrms @gatefleet

Companion piece to:

One Night - You and JD spend the night together.

Key To Her Heart - JD has to to sell you to make his case.

A Good Thing (NSFW) - JD doesn't want you to ruin a good thing.

Peppermint (NSFW) - JD isn't ready to let you go just yet.

Stormy Night - You turn up at JD's door in the middle of the night.

You & Me - After the death of your ex, your relationship with JD is brought to light.

You’re on the water when JD gets to the beach, your surfboard cresting across the water as you chase the waves. He watches from the shore, his feet sinking into the sand as he shields his eyes from the sun glinting off the ocean. You’re beautiful out there, practically poetry in motion and JD, he just can’t take his eyes off you.

He’s still waiting for you when you eventually set foot back on dry land, your wet hair falling across your features as you carry your board. He can’t tell if you’re happy to see him or not, the two of you haven’t spoken since he discovered you’d handed in your badge.

When the case with your ex was being investigated you’d both been placed on leave due to the nature of your on again/off again relationship. That also meant no contact. After they’d arrested the suspect, JD had returned to work find your desk vacant and your name plate missing.

“She’s gone.” Mackie had told him. “She resigned a couple of days ago.”

He knows it’s because of the videos, the fact everyone who work with now knows how you like to get fucked. Blue still can’t look him in the face without blushing.

He’s tried texting you, calling but you don’t pick up. When he drives past your house the car is never in the driveway, which leaves the only other place he knows you’ll be at six in the morning. The beach where he taught you to surf.

“You’ve been avoiding me.” He says as you stand the board up in the sand and begin to wring the water from your hair.

“I thought a clean break would do us both some good.” You tell him as you shake out the remaining droplets.

“Is that what you want?” He asks you as he picks up your board and begins to carry it to your car. “A clean break?”

The dampness soaks through his shirt but he doesn’t care, all he cares about is your answer because he’s just as in love with you as he’s always been.

“We don’t have the same obstacles we did when we first started.” You tell him as you reach your Jeep and he props the board up against the car before he gives you his entire attention. “You’re not married anymore and I’m not in your chain of command. I can’t help but wonder what would have happened if we’d started it right…”

“We could start it right.” JD says, his fingertips tucking an errant strand of hair back behind your ear. “You could let me take you out and we can figure out who we are without the drama.”

“Alright.” You say, with that pretty smile of yours, the one that lights up his entire world. “Let’s start with breakfast.”

Love JD? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[thedeathdeelers]

I finished my first rewatch of lovely runner🥲 and I'm still not over it heh (and I don't want to be 🫠😂) so I was rewatching the scene where Sunjae and Sol meet right after Sunjae remembers everything (God just the angst of that *chefs kiss) and oh my God the tremble in Sunjae's voice when he asks her if she cried like that everytime she was lonely. Byeon Woo Seok's so good! This drama just keeps on giving 😭

thank you for this because it gave me the chance to rewatch that scene specifically 😌 for science 😌

(but ayy!!! now onto the second rewatch!!) (but yeah i’m halfway through my rewatch but i’ve slowed down so i can avoid reaching the eNd again 🥲)

honestly everything about that moment was SO. WELL. DONE.

the lead up??? a masterpiece. the memories pouring in while sunjae tries to keep up, his eyes his facial expression feeling like it’s all too much but everything suddenly makes SENSE - the heartache the joy the confusion the undERSTANDING the despERATION

lying there on the street not even aware he nearly died- purely cause he’s drowning in everything sol!!! and then!! HE RUNS. HES RUNNING AND HE DOESNT EVEN KNOW WHERE TO!! he just needs to GET TO HER ASAP AND NOT LOSE HER AGAIN HE JUST HAS TO GET TO HER

i can’t even begin to imagine what he must’ve felt when he first lays eyes on her — like she’s not in his memories anymore- not the sol in all those different timelines, not the sol from this timeline when he didn’t recognise her

she’s here. she’s real. and he’s out of breath and his mind is a massive mess and his soul is exhausted but she’s here

and he’s starting to truly realise what she must’ve gone through…::repeatedly. having to see him die having to run around with all that burden on her shoulders

not telling anyone

making the decision to start all over again and keeping her distance from him- all alone. no one to confide in- not even him

his heart breaks - cause he knows what it feels like to live a life without her — both when he knows she exists and when he doesn’t

and he knows how horrible it is — but sol knew him and loved him and lived a life where he loved her too….and yet had to go through 15 years denying herself that joy and love and connection to keep him safe…such a massive selfless act..

all for him.

and now he’s staring at her out of breath with red eyes and tears rolling down her cheeks and he knows why. he finally knows the answer to the question he’s always asking her “why are you crying? did i do something wrong?”

he knows the answer…::and it’s not a happy one

AND NOW HE GETS TO SEE IT LIVE IN ACTION IN FRONT OF HIM- she’s obviously been crying and she’s trying to deny it and he realises this has been her life for the last 15 years….,.,,,…

“did you cry like that all the time? while missing that guy who forgot all about you?” screaming crying throwing up

(we have to give massive props to sol / hye yoon for the way she conveys emotion. it’s wild. insane. soljae wouldn’t exist without her and her incredible acting) (and the way she lets go of all the pain and longing and all those built up emotions that she’s been carrying with her the moment he says “sol-ah” istg)

like. i was fine before i started writing this but now im losing my mind a little sat at my desk in front of my excel sheet….

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

Do you think tim's current treatment of steph via dumping her in the callous way he did and ghosting her makes him another one of men who treated her badly and abandoned her?

Hi! Thank you so much for asking a question, I love questions!

Personally, on a meta level, I felt like Stephanie was long overdue to stop dating Tim. While their relationship can certainly be cute and I’m not like entirely against it, it tends to hold her back as a character. When she dates Tim she is ends up being put her in situations where she’s being written solely to create drama in Tims life, which is just horrible for her as a character.

I thought it was a strange choice to just.,.. not show their breakup. We only find out they broke up in the Urban Legends arc of issues which introduce Tim Drake as bisexual. This choice really links Tim drakes coming out with his break up with Steph. This from a meta level makes their break up all about Tim, and what’s most convenient for his character. This is something that, as discussed, happens to Steph a lot, she’s a prop in his narrative. In that way, their break up disappointed me. Personally, I would have preferred it if she has dumped him (for reasons unrelated to his bisexuality of course).

But those are meta complaints, from a story point of view, what we know about their breakup is fairly limited.

For instance, we don’t actuallly see Tim break up with Steph (at least in any comic I’ve heard of or read), so I don’t think we can say whether or not Tim broke it off in a callous manner. The treatment of Steph and her relationship as an afterthought to Tim’s narrative is callous but I don’t think we see Tim the character himself act that way.

Tim avoiding Steph after their break up is a dick move, but I think how much of a dick move it is depends on how much of their history is still intact. If it’s only the new 52 stuff, they don’t have nearly as much history and avoiding your friend who is now also your ex for a bit isn’t cool or nice, but it is understandable. If their entire history is intact, it’s way worse for Stephanie and much more mean, given just how much they’ve gone through together and the sheer closeness of their bond, even just as friends. Quite frankly, I can’t keep good track of what is still decanonized and what has been reestablished.

I wouldnt hasten to assign Tim into a “bad man who hurt Steph” box. He has done loads of things which were personally hurtful to Stephanie back when they originally dated. But so did Steph. They’ve both hurt each other and they’ve both forgiven each other. And historically, they’ve both been there for eachother when no one else was.

If she had been dumped and then ignored during her pre new 52 and especially pre Batgirl 2009 i would be much less reluctant to call that out as hurtful behavoir from Tim. But, while hurtful, it doesn’t seem to affect Steph as much now, which makes sense given how her character has evolved.

Stephanie is portrayed at this point as a much more independent character who is much more secure in her identity and value as a person. As such, it makes sense that she’d very willing to forgive Tim Drake for avoiding her and move on to being friends again.

(even if this is in part because her new most useful function to the Tim Drake narrative is getting out of his way so he can date someone else)

TLDR: While I have my issues with how the breakup was handled on a meta level, character wise Tim avoiding Steph post their breakup is rude but not something which I’d strongly condemn him for. We don’t get an indication that it’s affected Stephanie to the extent that would make me take it as a serious offense. I don’t see it as behavior which would place him at all in the same category as a lot of the genuinely manipulative and abusive men in her life.

I’m absolutely open to other takes on this if anyone has any other context or nuance I missed! I’m well read on new 52 but my focus is primarily pre new 52 post crisis so It’s very possible I’ve missed something. Thanks again for asking for my thoughts!

[orbital-inclination]

“WHAT I NEVER TOLD YOU” 

Part 1, part 2 (you are here).

Summary: Dream wakes up in a strange place. His host seems kind enough, but there's something about her home that feels… off. He will need to leave if he wants to reunite with his brother. Later, Dream and Nightmare have a conversation to finish. Notes: Moltendreams!AU. Set some time after the brothers left Dreamtale during a time when they were still unfamiliar with the multiverse. General warnings for: dreamtale typical angst/drama, mild non-graphic injury, more references to past emotional manipulation and bullying, and parental neglect Wordcount: 6178

Something was wrong.

Dream stirred. He felt sluggish and weighed down. Pulled closer to the earth by the gentle press of the something that was draped over him. There was a soft surface underneath his cheek, it didn’t itch like grass, and it didn’t crackle like dry leaves when he moved. It took an embarrassing amount of time for his mind to make sense of that, trying and failing to justify why the ground he lay on didn’t feel right. He lifted his skull slowly, rubbing his cheek against the soft surface until the texture slotted a memory into place. This felt like... a stuffed quilt? He pulled an arm free from where it had been tucked close to his body and felt along the surface he lay on. The tip of a claw caught on something. Yep. Definitely a quilt. He could feel the cotton sandwiched between layers of fabric and the stitch between squares. That didn’t immediately alarm him, because his first assumption was that Night’ must’ve found a way to cross the river and found a place for them to stay. 

But... that explanation didn’t feel right. He couldn’t sense his brother nearby. The atmosphere was too... stifled. Syrupy, and thick. He almost felt loopy from it. Something wasn’t right.

Tentatively prodding around the quilt, and the surface he lay on, he discovered something else weird. 

He was laying underneath... a table? 

Reluctantly, Dream pushed himself upright— only to swallow back a strangled hiss as a pulse of pain and stiffness shot down his spine. Usually, the film that coated his bones took care of most things that caused him pain fairly quickly. He remembered slamming into the boulder, but he would have expected the injury to be gone by now. But, obviously, it wasn’t. Not good.

After waiting a moment, he tentatively propped himself upright again. This time, he moved slowly.

He had just enough room to rest on his elbows, slightly hunched over to avoid smacking the back of his skull on the surface above him. He mapped the space through touch and concluded that no. It was not a table. He was underneath someone’s bed. And it was a fairly large bed at that.

He was boxed in. The bed was shoved into the corner, which cut off two potential exits.  One end was blocked off by what he thought might be a chest. And whoever had set him up underneath the bed, had sealed the last opening with- oh. Oh, that was a teddy bear. They had sealed the last opening with plushies and cardboard boxes. Dream pulled the bear closer and gave it a squeeze, thinking. If the person who’d brought him here wanted to keep him trapped, they weren’t trying too hard. But... why put him under the bed? He didn’t feel like much of a guest, hidden away like this.

The hinges of a door creaked. Dream stilled. He hunched down, the tendrils on his back arching defensively. A hollow, tapping sound. A box was shifted, dragged across the floor slowly, and- “Oh! You’re awake!”

The voice belonged to someone who sounded roughly his age, maybe a little bit younger. Dream’s first impression of her was that she felt very bright. Or rather very warm, and it was a testament to how saturated this place was that he could only sense her clearly when she was this close. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Uh, I’m Noelle. I’m sure this must be confusing for you but you’re in my room right now. I found you by the river bank. You were unconsciously so…”

She did something, moved a certain way, but he couldn’t tell what she was doing. 

He hesitated for too long. Disappointed chipped at her warmth, cooling it. But the difference was slight. “I… um-“

“Why am I under your bed?”

Embarrassment. “Oh! W-well… my mom doesn’t like to have guests over unexpectedly but it seemed like you really needed help. I couldn’t leave you on the river bank like that! That area floods a lot.”

Dream canted his skull to the side. “So you’re hiding me from your mother?” 

The embarrassment worsened. Made bitter-sour by shame and nervousness. “I know it sounds really, really silly but… if you knew my mother, it would make sense.”

Well, it didn’t make sense to Dream now. Weren’t mothers supposed to be loving or something? The closest thing he had to a mother was Nim, but he hadn’t had a relationship with her. Not really. She had been a presence. A thing that was just sort of there, but didn’t do much. She said things, sometimes. But it was like an echo of a memory with no mind behind it.

“Are you a human or a monster?” He asked because sometimes that made a difference in these things. Surprise, confusion, and the sharp tang of incredulity. “Um. I’m obviously not a human? I’m a reindeer monster??” He gave her a moment. “Oh,” she said. “Oh. I... I didn’t realize. You can’t see me, can you?” Dream shook his head. “Where is my brother?” “Your... brother?” He tensed, and a pang of uneasiness shot through his chest and squeezed. “We were separated crossing the river. He was supposed to find me. How long have I been unconscious?”

“I... I don’t know. You were alone and unconscious when I found you. That was hours ago.“ Dream didn’t like that. Had something happened to Nightmare? The tendrils on his back lashed. “I need to get back to the river. He could be there right now.” “No! You can’t!”

He flinched away from her, soul beating fast.

Noelle swallowed. “I… I mean. It’s dark out now. Mom doesn’t allow me to leave the house after dark.”

Right. Because that was a thing mothers did. Nim had also given him and Nightmare rules to follow. Just two. And they had disobeyed both. “That’s okay. You don’t have to come with me. Just let me out and I’ll find my way.”

Noelle was quiet for a long moment. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” He shifted, trying to show her that she had his full attention. And she did, but he was getting anxious now. He needed to reunite with his brother. He needed to apologize and know that he was okay and that nothing bad had happened to him. Something about this place didn’t feel right. Something was just off enough that he didn’t feel comfortable staying here longer than he had to be.

She didn’t reply. At that moment, a new sound interrupted the silence. A sharp rhythmic clicking. It grew steadily louder. Footsteps.

Noelle squeaked. “That’s my mother. I have to go. Don’t make any noise, okay?” The box was pushed back into place and the bed creaked above him. 

Dream lowered himself flat to the ground. He held his tentacles still, coiled close to his body. Was this normal? When Nim had been alive, had everyone been this nervous around her?

Seconds later, the footsteps stopped short. A creak, quiet at first. A whine. The hinges of the door protesting. And then, silence. Absolute silence.

Above him, Noelle’s nerves jumped and startled like rabbits. She seemed to be holding herself still as carefully as he was. Breath held. Waiting.

As the silence stretched, a chill crept down his spine. 

He shivered. Trying to make sense of the new taste to the magic pouring into the room. The stifling syrup-like nature of it hadn’t changed. If positivity was sweet like honey, then it was as though someone had dumped a box of salt into the jar. Something spoiled here. Something had been left to sit for too long. 

All the warmth had gone. The weight of it settled in slowly. It was blunt. And cold, not unlike fear. But many emotions could be cold, could turn cold, if given the right incentive. If Nightmare were here, he could tell Dream what it was. And how fear could feel so... hollowed out.  

...oh.

Apathy, Dream realized as another shiver worked its way through his bones. This was apathy. Not the absence of emotion, but the rejection of it. He pulled his limbs closer to his body. As though to hide the warmth there, like cupping his hands around the wick of a candle to shelter it from a draft. 

Nightmare hid his feelings behind apathy sometimes. And it was frightening, to witness his twin severe himself from his own feelings. It made something in his chest squeeze painfully. But the cold he felt from his brother was familiar and comforting in a way. This was not.

This magic… the person it belonged to… he could not imagine magic so oppressive would belong to a monster who felt freely able to express themselves. The weight of this magic did not belong to a tolerant person. It belonged to someone who felt they needed to be in control of everything, or the twisted thing deep within their heart would snap. 

Without warning the door creaked again and shut with a final click. 

Noelle waited a while to speak, listening for the sound of her mother’s footsteps to fade. When she did, she whispered. “That was a close one. We have to be careful to be quiet from now on.”

“Is she always like that?”

“… my mother doesn’t like to be disturbed,” Noelle answered. “I like to collect scary things. VHS tapes, books, cassettes. Everything. But if I’m too loud, if I’m too excited or too scared she’ll force me to turn it off or take it away from me... and I just… I just wanted this one thing for myself, y’know?” 

Dream felt something in his ribcage hitch. 

She slid off the bed, onto the floor, and moved next to him. 

“Does she know you’re unhappy here?” Noelle froze. Stuttered a noise of denial as something within her heart squirmed. Dream had his answer. “You don’t want her to know.” “Hahaha... I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why would I be unhappy? I mean... I have to hide things sometimes but... I live in a nice place. I... I like my town! I have my own room, my mom, my dad... why would I be unhappy?” “I don’t know,” Dream whispered. “I gave my village everything they ever wanted. Did everything they asked of me... but in the end, I don’t think anyone was truly happy.” Least of all himself, but to give that thought a voice felt selfish. What right did he have to complain, when his brother had gone through so much worse?

The shame and guilt were unbearable, suddenly. A sickly cold sank into the pit of his soul. He swallowed thickly, mana clotted in his throat, because how had he not seen the full extent his brother had been suffering? How had he not known? How had he not seen it?

He thought back to every bad day he could remember. Every question he asked that was brushed off. His brother’s stubborn silence. How tightly Nightmare would square his shoulders and turn away. And all those times Dream knew his brother was upset but felt he shouldn’t pry or chose not to. Prying would aggravate his brother and it was his purpose to spread positivity, wasn’t it? What good would it do to make Nightmare even more upset? 

He wished… he wished he had tried anyway. Instead of waiting and fruitlessly holding on to the belief that Nightmare would eventually tell him on his own. When he was ready. If Dream was patient enough and did as he was told.

How naive he’d been. If hiding pain under a facade of irritability was a skill then Nightmare had surely mastered it. Dream learned not to talk about certain things and especially not to express those feelings that were cold or black and didn’t belong on his side of the tree. 

He learned that quickly because it seemed to him whenever he expressed frustration or sadness or gave even the slightest hint that he was feeling anxious or stressed, someone would turn around and find a reason to blame the black apples for it. “Taint,” they’d warn, “you must stay pure of heart. It is in your brother’s nature to be cold, just as it’s yours to be kind and warm. You mustn’t allow him to influence you.”

“I think...” Dream began slowly, forcing his claws to unclench, buried so deeply into the quilt he lay on, he felt the wood underneath splitter. He forced himself to relax. Noelle needed his help right now. “I think you and your mother are not communicating something important. You are both scared. And because of that fear, you hide things from each other.” “It’s not that! She just overreacts, sometimes... when she thinks I’ve been hurt.” Her heart and mood quivered. She was sad and lonely and trying so hard to hide it. “She just wants to protect me.”

“But it hurts, doesn’t it? Her protectiveness is smothering. It threatens the things you care about.” Noelle swallowed. He heard it, underneath something that sounded like a strained laugh. “T-that’s silly! She’s my mother, I can trust her with anything.”

“Anything but the monster you’re keeping under your bed.” “I...” a flicker, and the strange denseness to the magic surrounding them rippled. Shame was the stone thrown into the murky pool. “If you truly felt that way, you wouldn’t have kept me here. You would have asked her for help but you didn’t,” Dream pressed, voice gentle but firm. “In your loneliness, you wanted to carve out a piece of happiness for yourself. But Noelle… you can’t keep me. I don’t belong here. I can’t make you happy.”

Noelle made a soft sound. Her voice cracked. “I wanted to make a decision on my own for once! I know she means well, and I... I’m too nervous to confront her. I feel powerless. But then I saw you on the river bank, it was different. I felt inspired? It was weird I...” 

A pause and a strange dizziness overcame her. He shifted in concern, debating whether or not he needed to move closer in case she toppled over. 

“I felt special. I knew I wanted to be your friend. No... I knew I had to be because… I couldn’t shake the feeling that I already knew who you were.”

“Friends don’t force each other to stay where they don’t want to be.”

The slight bite to his tone snapped Noelle out of her daze. He felt the snap, the sharp lick of regret, and could not tell who it belonged to. “I… I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. It… it felt right at the time,” Noelle struggled for a moment. “I can’t… remember? There was something else but I don’t…”

Uneasiness swept through him. The tendrils he'd looped close to the quilt reared up warily, twisting over themselves in heed of his discomfort but unable to find the source.

“… what do you mean ‘it felt right’ ?”

“I can’t explain it. It just did, y’know? It was like one of those moments in a book when the world seems to pivot and the heroine realizes what she was meant to do.”

A shiver crawled down his spine. “Did you feel compelled to help me?”

“T-that’s a strange question. It’s what anyone would have done, isn’t it?”

He had nothing to say to that. Maybe. One would hope. But the situation still felt odd. She wanted to help him but didn’t want him to leave until he confronted her about it. It left a strange taste in his mouth.

“Will you let me up now?” He asked instead.

“Yes!” Noelle scrambled back and shoved boxes and plushies aside. One rolled over a tentacle so Dream grabbed it and set it next to the teddy bear he’d held earlier. There was a thump, as something that sounded like a book fell, and suddenly, it was just a little bit less stuffy underneath the bed. Dream felt along the edge of the bed frame above him and carefully crawled out. A sharp pain shot his spine as he stood, but he swallowed the hiss of pain in his throat and it faded, after a moment. 

The floorboards creaked underfoot. Noelle shifted her weight, a dim but growing cold spot of nervousness. “What happened? Between you and your village, I mean.” His soul skipped a beat. “I don’t know,” He didn’t want to talk about it, and he especially didn't want to talk about himself. “We left.” “Oh.” A pause and she said quietly. “Dess talked about moving to the city. She wanted to take me with her to explore the city together. Leaving without her doesn’t feel right, I don’t think I’m ready yet but, maybe someday.” And Dream thought about the tree and his brother. He vividly remembered climbing the hill, running, and the dry grass lashing at his hands and clothes. The voices shouting to be heard over the rumble of approaching thunder. His brother, cornered against the trunk—

“You... you’re not going to encourage me to talk to her?”

“You know your mother better than I,” he said, and distantly wished he could blink away the memory. Over and over again, it looped. “I never went to my brother with my problems because I didn’t want him to think less of me... I regret that now.” Nightmare thought poorly of him anyway. So it hadn’t mattered. “But I was never afraid of my brother. Not in the same way you seem to be of her.”

“I’m not... afraid of my mother,” Noelle said somewhat hesitantly. “It’s just hard to talk to her. She doesn’t like to be interrupted and... the town is more important.” “Is it?”  Bitterness dripped from his teeth. Hot in his mouth. Sometimes, it was easy to doubt himself. When he stole anger like a thief, he could only assume the villager elders had been right. He should have been more careful around the tree. But the branches sprouted from the same trunk. Black or gold, the apples came from the place, so there must have been something rotten in his soul from the start. 

Noelle startled. A skipped beat. And Dream took a breath. “You are part of the town too, aren’t you? Why are you excluded from the same care?”

“I…” she swallowed, overwhelmed by too many emotions to name at once. Most of them leaned close to sadness. “I never thought of it that way… you-you’re right. I’m part of this town too and… I don’t know if she’ll hear me out, but I’ll try. At the very least I have to look after myself better.”

Dream nodded, and the bitter, writhing thing in his chest settled. He wished he had looked after his twin better. “Don’t smother your loneliness.” 

“I won’t,” And then added somewhat hesitantly. “Do you still want to leave?”

She felt sad. Sadness was heavy and sank deep throughout one’s heart. It had the flavor of ice, without the bite of cold and he felt it as deeply as if it were his own. But, it didn’t make sense for the feeling to be this strong. Why did she want to be his friend so badly?

… he didn’t want to stay for much longer. 

“I can’t stay. I have to find my brother. I’m sure he’s worried, and I’m worried about him too.”

To his relief, she understood. “We’ll have to be quiet. I’m… actually surprised mom wasn’t woken up by all that.”

Noelle meekly suggested he take her hand so he wouldn't get lost. The cabin was huge, apparently. Dream offered a compromise and held on to the corner of her sleeve instead.

She led him to the door and into the hall beyond it. They walked, stopped to listen, took a turn, and then another. Dream kept one tendril on the wall to keep himself oriented, making note of the changing texture and the stray accent table that came out of nowhere. Someone ought to put bells on those things. 

Eventually, the wall ended. The sound of their footsteps changed and every breath and rustle of fabric echoed cavernously.

He only knew when Noelle took him behind a sofa because he bumped his knee into it. She directed him to a wall (it was made of skinned logs fitted together like the pieces of a puzzle with something that felt like coarse hardened clay holding it all together. Dream withdrew his hand quickly when he felt a cobweb. Spiders worked so hard on their nests.) and then to a windowsill. “All the doors and windows squeak but this one— it's a bay window. It swings open on your right— it’s the quietest. The sill is meant for sitting... um, do you need help climbing up?” He shook his head and easily pulled himself up onto the windowsill. He’d climbed trees all his life. This was nothing.

“Okay. On the count to three. One. Two. Three.” The window whined, loudly. Dream flinched and next to him, he felt Noelle jump. Her soul lurching in a half second of fright. They waited a long moment, breath held, but aside from the muffled sound of a nearby tree scratching the roof, the cabin was still.

“You better go now. Mom could’ve heard that,” Noelle said, the focus of her attention elsewhere. Dream tried to follow it, but he couldn’t figure out what she was focusing on. “I never asked for your name, did I..? That… that doesn't make sense. I really did just.. bring a stranger into my house like that.”

Dream nodded. “You could have picked a worse person to sneak into your house. My name is Dream, by the way. Thank you for your hospitality.”

“Y-you're welcome?” Sometimes, it was possible to hear someone growing pale. By the sound of her voice, he imagined her face had lost all its color. “I’m sorry for involving you in this and basically kidnapping you? Oh-my-stars. I kidnapped you!”

“Hardly. I was unconscious and too close to the river bank. But you did try to keep me here,” he added, but she was already very stressed and it was making him stressed, so he hastily continued. “It’s okay. I forgive you. I don’t think you were in your right mind anyway. Will you be okay with your mother?”

“Y-yes. I think so. I mean, it's just…” she sighed. “It’s complicated. But dad is here too, so. I’ll ask him for help if I think I need it.” 

Her voice was warm again, and it was slight, but for a moment, he almost couldn’t taste the sickly quality to the magic surrounding the cabin. “Thank you. I feel better now. I hope you can find your brother.”

He nodded, and murmured a thank you and goodbye because leaving someone’s home was always somewhat awkward. He turned, swung his legs over the ledge, and dropped down. 

Leaves and grit crunched under his feet. He waited a moment. Just to be sure. He canted his skull toward the window, listening, then he picked a direction that felt right, and started walking.

Gradually, the ground began to dip into a shallow slope, and though he could not hear the river yet, Dream knew he was close. The ground was damp, soaked through either from rain or because of its proximity to the river. He stepped through the underbrush carefully, mindful of the way his boots sank into cold mud.

The forest floor was a knotted mass of roots, rotting leaf litter, and moss. Twice, Dream almost tripped. So he spread his tentacles wide, two held wide and arching, level with his skull so he wouldn't walk headlong into a low-hanging branch. And two low to the ground, so he wouldn’t trip again.

A quiet crunch echoed from somewhere in the undergrowth. Dream paused, angled his skull towards the sound, and held his breath because the atmosphere felt cooler and less stifled in this direction.

“...Nightmare?”

“Dream!” The shout back was immediate. His ribcage hitched. He took three quick steps forward and broke into a run. He heard the snap of a twig underfoot and the branches of a bush part. Pure relief washed over him. Cool and warm at once. The weight of his brother’s magic was unmistakable. 

The rough bark of a tree snagged his tunic and he stumbled.

Two hands caught his shoulders. Dream redirected his balance and quickly latched onto his brother’s sleeve. Nightmare was not hurt, he could immediately tell. Worried and stressed, yes, but not hurt. Thank the heavens.

“Are you alright? What happened?” A sharp lick of concern. “You’re in pain.” Nightmare’s grip tightened for a moment. Dream felt one check, then two, as his brother looked him over.

He shot one back, just to make a point. He was too relieved to be truly bothered by the fussing. 

“That’s from the river. It’s better than it was. I’m fine.” and honesty? So much had happened in the last however-many-hours-it’d-been he hadn’t noticed the ache until Nightmare had pointed it out. “The family that found me was kind. They didn’t hurt me.” Nightmare released him and stepped back. “Stars... I should never have led you across. We should have waited for the river to level. Or for the rapids to settle or-”

Dream shook his head. “We had to cross somewhere. I could’ve just as easily warned you it was a bad idea. But I was…” too upset. Too consumed by hurt and frustration to really consider what it meant when the sound of the river had grown so violent. If he had just stopped to think. If he hadn’t lashed out...

The tight feeling returned to his chest. 

“I’m sorry.” he choked. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. I didn’t mean it. I was angry.“

“No, I…” Nightmare took a breath. “I should be the one apologizing. It was reckless to cross the river right there. I snapped at you. I hurt you. I knew better, but I didn’t care. I’m sorry.”

Nightmare didn’t... apologize often. He meant it sincerely when he did, but it was just the sort of thing his brother struggled with. Dream forced his jaw to unlock, he wasn’t angry. He was as tense as a spring, but he wasn’t angry. Not with his brother. He didn’t need to feel Nightmare’s remorse to know how much he meant it.

“But you were right… I wasn’t… I wasn’t there when you needed me. I prioritized the needs of the village over you. I saw how sad and lonely you were and still I... the why of it doesn’t matter now.”

“How could you not?” His magic was cool, a shallow pool of shade. His actions seemed logical to his brother. And that made it worse. Dream ducked his skull, feeling wretched. “They gave us clothes and attention. A purpose when Nim felt more like a ghost than the Goddess they later insisted she was. How were we supposed to interpret her will when her voice had been gutted and theirs spoke louder?”

He nodded, once and didn’t raise his head. ‘-it is in your brother’s nature to be cold.’ and Nim’s voice had always felt like the echo of a memory to him, not really there at all. He wondered, idly if they had ever really heard her. 

“We never heard contradictory ideas, did we? You were the only one who questioned anything.”

“I only questioned them because of the way they treated me.” Nightmare said bitterly. “We have books to thank for that. I knew what I was experiencing was unjust, but I couldn’t articulate why until I began reading. That village was full of hypocrites.”

Dream nodded again, heart pinched tight by a dark emotion he couldn’t name but was altogether painful. “They were scared of you.” 

His brother was quiet for a moment, not quite seething but close. “They resented me more than they feared me. I think I would have preferred fear. If they had been scared enough, they would have left me alone.” “Don’t say that,” Dream whispered. “Fear would have led to resentment anyway. They would’ve done worse.” “Worse,” Nightmare echoed, frigid and biting. “Do you know why I reached for the apple, Dream?” ‘Don’t...’ Dream wanted to say. ‘I already know why, please don’t say it.’ Words were stones and bile behind his teeth, he swallowed them down. 

“I was convinced I was going to die.” the simmering anger that had gradually been building behind his brother’s heart suddenly evaporated, released in a deep breath. “If... if you hadn’t arrived when you did...” His voice tapered off. Neither of them wanted to hear the end of that sentence. 

Guilt soured the silence. The pit of it gutted his brother. Dream looked up. The dark cold made his brother seem frail. It reminded him of the worst days. And the bitter rage he had felt when his brother had dismissed him now seemed like a pathetic response. 

“I’m sorry. What I said to you was cruel.” “It was,” Nightmare said, voice quiet. Dream flinched despite knowing the truth of it. He had hurt his brother. And he had said what he did knowing that it would. “You were right. I did reach for the apple first. I didn’t have a choice, in the moment, I truly believe that. But I... I regret what happened afterward. Dream, it’s because of me that you…”

His brother didn’t finish.

“That I… what?” He hasn’t meant it… as a warning. His voice sounded hollow even to his own mind. He wasn’t even sure what he was warning his brother not to say. But something was balanced, precariously on a knife’s edge. And it was tittering.

Dream felt his brother’s rapid pulse of guilt-anxiety thrum and Nightmare said, softly and carefully. Words chosen at length. “You were despondent for three days. I don’t think you realized we had left the village by then. You wouldn’t sit unless I told you to. You barely moved. And for a time, I worried that the dust might have stuck to your clothes or that somehow I’d missed it on mine and that was why—“

Oh. For a moment he thought Nightmare was going to bring up something else. (It wouldn’t surprise if his brother had wisely decided to change what he wanted to say at the last second.) He didn’t remember that. Something in his own chest sped up. Pounding hard. “Why would there be dust on our clothes?”

Nightmare went very still. “... why would there be— you don’t...”

Was he talking about the axe? “It only struck me once,” Dream said, and hoped that might be reassuring to remember. 

He didn’t understand the emotion he felt in his brother’s stare. “Right…the woodsman’s axe,” Nightmare said, slowly, muttering to himself afterward in words Dream couldn’t catch. 

The sound of a woodsman chopping wood on the edge of town had been the other reason why they’d left it so quickly. It did something to his soul that Dream didn’t have a word for. The sound made his chest hurt even though it’d been a long time since that wound had healed. It put Nightmare on edge too. Maybe thats why they’d been so short with each other.

Nightmare shook himself. “The river didn’t reopen something, did it?”

Dream snorted. His brother was such a mother hen sometimes. “It’s been years, Night’, I think we’re long past the risk of that.”

His brother clicked his teeth. “Do not overestimate the strength of newly healed bones.”

“The wound is hardly new now,” and then Dream frowned, and said quietly. “I don’t blame you, Night’. It wasn’t your fault. I said that because I was upset... but didn’t mean it.” But he could tell his brother didn’t believe him. Nightmare said nothing for a beat, and Dream tried and failed to think of something to say to prove to his brother that he meant it.

“It's not like you to lose your temper. Before we crossed the river, you were trying to tell me something but I interrupted you. What were you going to say?”

Oh. Maybe the conversation should have ended there. Dream shifted, uncomfortable. “It’s nothing.” “No,” Nightmare said, voice firm. And Dream could vividly imagine the frown on his face. “It’s not nothing. You are a difficult person to anger to that extent, Dream. I know I... said somethings that I shouldn’t have, just before... what were you going to say?” A part of him bristled. It was a small part, and he did his best to bury it. He knew though, as he felt Nightmare’s scrutiny intensify, that the attempt was pointless. He supposed it was a bit like trying to hide lightning. “... Earlier you told me I left you alone with the people who hated you. And you were right. I knew they distrusted you, I didn’t understand how deep it ran but even if I had, I... don't think any other outcome was possible for us.” He crossed his arms over his chest to hide the slight tremble in his hands and vainly hoped his brother didn’t notice that either. “I only did what I was told to, ‘Night. I thought I could make everyone happy. I thought I was being selfless by putting their needs—the needs of everyone above ours. But in the end, it never felt like a choice. I... I think I only succeeded in spreading selfishness.”

“I should have known,” Nightmare’s voice was hoarse and brittle. “I should have known... they used you too.” 

The crunch of leaves. A step taken closer while Dream struggled to wrangle the writhing thing in his heart. His ribcage hitched. Used? He would’ve never called it that. He didn’t want to call it that. He couldn’t think of it that way because then he would have to acknowledge that the people he’d loved had not only lied but used him too and— he found himself wrapped up in a tight hug.

“I'm sorry. We didn’t look after each other very well, did we?”

It felt like there was a dam behind his sockets. Burning, burning. But the tears wouldn’t come. He hiccuped and buried his face in the collar of his brother’s shirt. The arms wrapped around him squeezed. There was no judgment, no mocking sneers or scoffs. No teasing. Just marrow-deep sympathy and a shared raw pain he didn’t think would ever truly go away.

“It’s okay, Dream. We’re going to be okay,” Nightmare whispered and Dream wanted to cry all over again but couldn’t. It didn’t feel okay. When has anything his brother gone through been okay? It seemed like nothing had been okay for a long time. He didn’t like feeling like this. But he allowed himself to be held and rocked until the thoughts of a place he could never return to slowly faded, and the shaking subsided.

When Dream felt... not quite calm, but tired and spent, he stepped back. Nightmare let his arms fall. “I think I can take us out of here now. Something changed just before I found you. I felt a shift... Did something happen with the family that found you?” Instead of answering, Dream nodded in, at least he hoped, the direction he came from. He was too tired to explain the strange magic he’d felt in Noelle’s house.

His brother was thoughtful for a pressing second, then said, gently. “Whatever you did, it helped. Let’s leave it at that and get out of here before anything else happens.” Dream agreed wholeheartedly. He hoped whenever they went next didn’t have a woodsman. “Do you think there is a world out there without a forest?”

The question startled a chuckle from his brother. “You want to go somewhere without trees?” He felt a palm press to his forehead. “Are you ill, brother? Do you have a fever, perhaps?”

Dream swatted his hand away. He was too tired to fight the small smile that pulled at the corners of his mouth. “Where there are no trees, there is no axe.” “I’ve read of places where there is sand instead of dirt, for as far as the eye can see, and grass refuses to grow there.” Now, he could believe that first part. After all, some river banks and dry creek beds were like that, but where grass will not grow? There was no way. “You’re lying. You’re making that up!”  

Nightmare laughed and easily dodged his second attempt at smacking him. Cheater. “I don’t know when we’ll find such a place, but I promise one day I’ll take you there.”

“You read too much,” Dream commented, dryly. And if Nightmare wasn’t smiling, he was wearing an expression close to it. He reached for his brother’s hand, without hesitation this time. Nightmare took it, and in a blink, they left the forest and the AU behind.

[bestwenclairfics]

The matter of exclusive privileges - Chapter 1 - miliamin - Wednesday (TV 2022) [Archive of Our Own]

Just a two shots with "High Enid" and Mean Wednesday. A calm fic not more drama.

---

Sneak peak:

"School packs are unstable. Constant power struggles. Lowered inhibition caused fights over the smallest dispute on who can touch what. And who can touch who."

"And you're fine," the vampire says doubtfully.

"Noone ever touches Wednesday."

The trio gapes again and Wednesday drinks from her cup to avoid looking at their faces. She’s just here to eat, their reaction to sound logic is none of her business.

“Okaaay, just hypothetically, what would make a werewolf not freak out over the realization that they’re drugged with seed anise?” Tanaka asks.

“Hmmm, with how it intensifies stuff the biological predisposition to stay calm around one’s mate could do it,” Enid answers, rolling the end of Wednesday’s braid between her fingers.

“Hypothetically.” Barclay repeats, cocking her eyebrow with a grin.

“Yeah, that’s how Yoko asked.” Enid says, propping Wednesday's arm to go up with the fork again.

[averseunhinged]

it's wip wednesday! hooray. my actual ongoing wip are all kind of at a point of almost doneness where i should stop sharing snippets from them, so here is a thing from the archives. no idea when i might finish this, because of all the other things.

technically, it's a soulmates au, but doesn't really get into all that until like ten pages later.

The young woman who opened the door was none of the three he expected.

"Hi," she said hesitantly, elongating the word. "Can I help you?"

"The answer to your question is entirely dependent on whether you're planning on using that," Elijah pointedly looked down at the crossbow held nonchalantly in her hand.

"Oh!" she yelped and easily swung the heavy weapon up behind her back. "That's nothing. It's...a prop! Made of Styrofoam. My friend's a drama major. No big deal."

He heard a sigh from further inside the room and the approach of bare feet in sandals. A slim, pale hand appeared from behind the door and opened it wider.

"Well, you tried," Caroline Forbes said with an exhausted tilt to her inflection. "Points for thinking fast and coming up with a solid, truth-based lie. Would've been better to avoid flashing medieval weaponry around in the hallway in the first place, but you did stick the landing." She focused her attention back on him. "I thought that sounded like a Mikaelson. Hello, Elijah."

"Miss Forbes."

"Well, at least you know each other. I'm Ivy," the other girl cheerfully introduced herself and held out her hand for him to shake.

"Did you not learn your lesson the last time?" Caroline pushed Ivy's hand down and scooted the other girl back into the room. "Don't try to make friends with supposed friends of friends who turn up out of nowhere!"

"I'm already dead, what else could happen?"

"You could always be more dead, or about a trillion other awful things. Do you want to get shot in the head? I've been shot in the head. It sucks. There. The benefit of my experience. No need to do your own research."

"I give you my word no harm will come to your," Elijah paused and then questioned, "sireling?"

"Adopted. Her sire's an idiot, but he's an idiot I inherited, and unfortunately, I'm attached to him now." She sighed and looked over her shoulder. At what, he wasn't sure. "Okay, I'm kind of on a time crunch, so you should come in. No," she commanded, pointing one stern finger at him, "shenanigans. I will be super upset if you do any heart-ripping."

Elijah solemnly traced an X on his chest and said, with gravity, "Cross my heart and hope to die."

"Oh great. More hilarious jokes." Caroline stepped back and waved him in. "You all have the worst sense of humor. Like it's seriously terrible."

Whitmore was one of the oldest universities in the American South, and a wealthy one at that. Judging by its size and appointments, Caroline's dormitory room looked as though it had originally been a common room. There was typical evidence of young women--cosmetics and jewelry, warring perfumes, several brassieres hanging over the back of a chair--but there were also stacks of old, rough-bound books and an open train case smelling strongly of a witch's tools of the trade. Spread across one of the single beds and the surrounding floor area was an incongruous array of weapons.

The other girl, Ivy, was on the floor, peering at a rectangular, carved box. "Stilettos of Suffering?" she read from the small, engraved plate on it, confused.

"Not shoes, obviously, and not cute. They're like icepick knives with a curse attached, so don't open it. Witches," Caroline shook her head and sketched out an exasperated gesture. "They say we're nasty pieces of work, but I've never wanted to liquify someone's internal organs with a single poke."

With all his family had gone through over the past year, Elijah had to agree. "Vampires do tend to be a bit more direct."

"So," Caroline said cheerfully, taking the stilettos away from Ivy and placing them back in an old footlocker with respectful precision, "I don't know what you need, but Elena had a psychotic break on witch LSD and made the incredibly constructive decision to have her memory erased and Bonnie's dead. Sort of. Maybe." She toed off her sandals next to one of the clear beds and shook a pair of black trousers out of their precise, folded square. "It's complicated. Damon's unavailable, plus he sucks, and Stefan just won the award for biggest jerk ever, and he didn’t even have his humanity off this time. Oh, and there's this stupid Traveler barrier around Mystic Falls. You stop being a vampire and then die the way you died if you cross it. So, probably don't do that. Or do, if you want to. I don't know what's in your life right now. That's between you and Jesus." She squinted at him and tilted her head. "Or maybe Thor, I guess? Because Vikings."

Elijah hummed. "I'm not in correspondence with either one, and my to do list has far too many items left undone, at present, for a suicide attempt."

"You and me both, buddy."

"And as fascinatingly convoluted as that sounds," he began, placidly watching as she tugged on snug jeans under her pretty, pink sundress, bouncing a little bit from their tight fit, "I've already located my quarry."

She froze at his congenial tone, slowly removing her hands from underneath her dress, where she had finished fastening her jeans, and looked at him in quick-dawning denial.

"Oh no," Caroline insisted, shaking her head, her thick ponytail and the late summer humidity ringlets framing her face bouncing from the force of it. "No, no, no. I have my own idiot to rescue from his poor decision-making skills. I don't have time to get sucked back into your idiot's bad choices."

"From what I understand, Miss Forbes, my idiot just so happens to be your idiot as well, and perhaps even more in need of rescue."

[mycatjustfuckingdied]

Good Luck, Babe

A/N: I Felt like doing a one-shot with Cassandra so this is that, set in modern AU. Also, feel free to take a look at my longer fics on Ao3. Link on my blog :)

There was this girl, I met her in college when I joined the drama club. She was a year ahead of me which made it a little awkward to make time to see each other. Cassandra was always too busy in her final year to see me, Making it hard for me to confess.

I'm in love with her.

The girl had me wrapped tightly around her finger, I was at her beck and call. Tensions between us felt so real and like we were meant to be in each other's lives. One day changed everything, we had gone to a bar to celebrate exam results. A few drinks later the alcohol in my system made my head spin and my heart ache when I looked at her. With the newfound liquid confidence, I went to look for the tall brunette.

Whether it was the alcohol or not, what I found made me sick to my stomach. The woman I loved with her lips pressed against some man, his hands were all over her.

Suddenly the room felt stuffy, hot, and like the walls were going to close in on me. My feet moved before I had time to think about leaving and within a few minutes I was in an Uber, crying as the poor driver tried to console me.

Now, we don't talk about it, we do talk about the guys she hooks up with, we talk about the guys who ask for her number. We talk about the way silly men think they have a chance with her and I listen, unbeknownst to her it breaks my heart more and more each day but she's about to graduate. The tactic that seemed the most likely to help me get over her before that happened was to ignore her. So I did, for the last few weeks I avoided her at all costs and was 'too busy' to go out with her.

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

I buried my face further into my pillow and groaned loudly. Exam season was kicking my ass and not having my favorite person to spend it with was much worse. When I finally settled in bed, my laptop propped up for me to study on, there was a sharp knock on the door. Who would even be around at this time?

Cassandra was who, the tall gorgeous woman stood in front of my dorm room door when I pulled it open. Her brown eyes stared down at me with an angry expression. Before I could stop her, she had barged in the door and made herself at home. I sighed as I closed the door.

"What's your problem?!" Cassandra argued, her face screwed into a sour face.

I sat down at the table while she stood staring at me.

"Well?" She demanded further.

I'm not sure what got to me, the overwhelming sense of impending doom or the stress of exams but I broke. Tears were spilling before I could stop them or hide.

"I love you." I blurted out, blubbering through tears and sobs.

My head sunk down onto the table as my hands cradled my face. I didn't want to face the brunette, not after what I had just blurted out. Scarlet red spread across my cheeks as embarrassment set in, it had been a minute since either of us said anything.

"Why didn't you tell me?" A soft voice broke me out of my thoughts.

With red, tear-stained eyes I looked up to met her gaze. Her face had softened completely and she was now looking at me life I had put the moon and stars in the night sky.

"You like boys..." I mumbled which caused her to mess with the rings on her fingers.

Her demeanor changed slightly to a more nervous one as she looked down, avoiding my eyes.

"Yeah about that." She began. "I'm not so sure about that."

My mouth opened to speak but nothing came out, I was shocked, never would I have imagined this kind of confession. The tall woman raised her caramel-coloured eyes to look at me again.

"To be honest, I don't really know what I want." She spoke again. "But I know I like you."

Once again I was left silent. I had expected this day to go on like any other. I'd mope in my room alone with my thoughts under the guise of studying but my whole day, possibly even year had been turned on its head.

Not unlike a fish, I stayed there with my mouth a gape. Not sure what to do. Should I kiss her? Should we shake hands to resolve our differences? God's above, romance is hard.

It seemed like Cassandra was thinking for the two of us as she blew out a small laugh. Her beautiful face contorting into a smile.

"Just kiss me."

And I did.

My lips connected to her soft pillowy ones.

Again and again and again...

Until everything else blurred and it felt like I was drunk. Until my back hitting the mattress was all I felt before pure bliss and my life felt that much better to not only have my girl back back but to have her be mine.

[cringefaecompilation]

I know it wasn't the focus of your misogyny post so if I'm overstepping please ignore me, but it also really makes me mad when people "conveniently forget" that Ashton is nonbinary, especially when it justifies their shitty opinions (ie he's One Of The Boys™ so he's always correct and can do no wrong thanks to his male-based intellect unlike the awful evil women or he's an Evil Manipulative Man™ who's going out of his way to use his male-ness to harm these poor innocent helpless women because he said/did anything negative towards them). Like please y'all, they're not a man PLEASE they said their pronouns IN THE FIRST EPISODE PLEASE. Feel free to like/dislike Ashton all you want cause that's perfectly fair, but for the love of god don't be transphobic (especially to be sexist) when you do it??? Is that too much to ask??? Idk if I'm making sense/getting upset at nothing because I've seen a lot of people dismiss this as being silly or getting mad at nothing, but idk as a masc enby a lot of discussions around Ashton feel so gross? Idk though, once again ignore if I'm overstepping or anything

you are not being silly and you are not getting mad at nothing or overstepping. it's a huge problem.

i've seen way more of the former where he is misgendered as a cis male as a positive trait, so i'll be talking more about that. will be reposting my tags about this trend in fandom because i've already said my piece on it.

ashton is "schrodinger's man" to these people when they're bored with ignoring/erasing orym's respect and care towards the women in his life. they're nonbinary and trans when they're being directly defended against fans who only like the women, and they're a cis male who is a victim of violent misandry when complaining about previous drama or shipping laudmo/ore (willing to give the benefit of the doubt that maybe some of that blending is them including cis male actor taliesin jaffe but then again). the idea that shardgate was Feminism Going Too Far is an actual statement that i've seen going around the fandom, and it's gotten worse now with swordgate.

didja know there are people insisting laudna should have been abandoned by the hells or fearne should have gotten "harsher punishment" when her dad nearly killed her because both women did something selfish/impulsive and ashton was yelled at and punished for doing something selfish/impulsive? the They Only Were Upset With Ashton Because He Is A Man argument is so fucking dumb. bro almost nuked himself without telling anybody else and was the only one not forcing the shard down fearne's throat, of course they'd come to blows. and you wanna know why they didn't scream at fearne or laudna? BECAUSE THEY LEARNED TO NOT DO THAT. THEY HAD A THERAPY SESSION SPECIFICALLY TO AVOID DOING THAT SHIT AGAIN

and it really does make it obnoxious because i like him and orym's dynamic but it's so fucking frustrating seeing people make them into bell's hells leaders and Voices Of Reason just so they can say "orym is always correct because dead husband and imogen is a salty selfish bitch" or "ashton is always correct because tough love & street smarts and imogen is just a salty selfish bitch" that it immediately sets off red flags for me if someone says those guys are their favorite bh characters. and it sucks because i love orym and ashton too!

obligatory "both sides though" mention: yes. there are im/odna shippers that fantasize about "punishing" or murdering ashton. they do that to dorian and orym too. i am aware of them and i have seen them. i have 90% of them blocked lmao

and i have also talked about this before but the amount of people i've seen insisting callowm/oore is a bad homophobic cishet ship that erases fearne's pansexuality is BIZARRE. this argument was used to prop up fearn/iture which makes no fucking sense to me since chetney is, as far as we know, cisgender. we might not know ashton's sexuality proper but it's safe to assume they aren't heterosexual as they've flirted with people of many genders. also there was this genuine debate if as/hrym was a homophobic ship because orym only dates men... and. well. i don't think it'd be the same as shipping keyleth with orym, let's put it that way lol

[lore-gore]

how do you feel about Melanie Martinez? (The music, not the artist! Trying to avoid drama 😭)

I love her music!

I'm not really big on love songs, and prefer songs that are either spooky and/or speak up on societal issues! And her albums do just that!

I just love how meaningful her lyrics are! Plus the music videos are so spooky yet cute I love them!!!

I actually went to the trilogy tour!!!

I tried to capture all three albums into one look!!! I also wanted to show off my tooth gap that never fully closed with braces. (Thank you Melanie for making me love my tooth gap!!!!)

Also someone gave me this cute bracelet!!!

Also love that during Principal's Office they had all these kid's portraits with signs saying ceasefire now and free Palestine!!! And at the end when she had us all shout free Palestine!!!

The whole concert was amazing!!! The props, the set, the choreography, the animation!!!! UGH I loved it!!!!

Edit: Sorry for answering this so late!!!!

[feeshies]

It's a light pet peeve of mine when people are trying to tell you why you should avoid a piece of art, and to do so they just...list the things that happen. With no regard to the framing or quality of those plot points.

I'll use The Idol as an example because that's one of the more recent instances I can think of at the moment (also because I saw this sort of reaction coming from sources other than Tumblr or the website formerly known as Twitter).

The issue with The Idol isn't that a plot point in the first episodes involves the main character's PR team scrambling to try to stop a photo of her face with jizz on it from leaking to the public. I actually think a plot point like that makes sense for the story about (in theory) a pop star and her shaky relationship with the public and her fanbase. The issue with The Idol isn't that the main character was physically abused by her mother, and that abuse affected her sex life. People respond to trauma in ways that may seem messy or "problematic", and in the hands of an interested (and competent) writer, that reality could be explored properly.

The issue with The Idol is that the main character feels like a prop in her own story. The creators (not going into the behind the scenes drama on this post) were clearly not interested in her beyond how they could light her nude body attractively. As a result, the sex feels like it's happening to her. It's about her story in the same way a Burger King commercial is about the cow's story. (There's other issues, of course, but this is the one that colors the entire show the most imo).

So when I see an article or a post trying to explain how depraved and gross a story is, I don't want a grocery list of the weird sex acts. I want to know how the story comes across and why the writer wrote it the way they did.

[sollucets]

could you maybe write something where akk calls aye his home?

i absolutely can do that, nonny, thank u for asking! have a little bit (1.5k. of course.) of long-distance akkaye :') loosely related to the last prompt but fine to read without it

💜

“Akk, are you sleeping?” 

Aye’s voice is tinny, the noises of a subway station behind him just the right side of too-loud through Akk’s phone speakers to catch his slow-moving attention. His headphones must have slipped out; he doesn’t remember it happening. 

“No,” he answers, like a liar, and pushes himself upright on his dorm bed with some effort.

He’d given up on holding his head up to look at the screen part way through Aye talking about one of the other international students he works with and her hopeless crush on a Thai grad student senior of theirs that Aye is 100% sure is taken, and all of the accompanying drama. “You think P’Win has a partner already.” 

“That’s the last thing you heard?” Aye asks, pouting a little on the tiny screen under his big blue scarf. His cheeks are pink. It’s really, really cute. Someone passes behind him; Akk thinks he hears the edges of a robotic voice making an announcement. “I don’t just think so, I know so, and I was telling you all the evidence.”

“Do you have a conspiracy board for this too, or am I still special?”

Aye says something extremely inappropriate for a public place in response, but he says it in Thai, so he’s probably safe. Akk still opens his mouth to scold him on principle, but he’s caught by a yawn before he can say anything, jaw cracking unpleasantly. 

Aye’s expression melts from put-upon irritation to fondness so quickly it’s impressive. “You don’t have to stay up so late for me,” he says. “Don’t you have class in the morning? At nine, right?” 

“Don’t remind me,” grumbles Akk with a sigh, but he swings his legs over the side of the bed, picks up his phone sans headphones, and heads into the bathroom barefoot. “It’s not really so late. And besides, you’d pout if I went to bed without calling. It’s our day.”

Their day, Thursday specifically, had been the day that worked best with both their busy schedules and the six-hour time difference for most of the first semester of their time apart. They’ve missed only once, during Akk’s midterms, and Aye had texted no less than thirty times that day, all test-taking memes and supportive emojis. Now, though, Aye’s classes combined with his new work in his university's tutoring center run into the London evening; it’s midnight in Chiang Mai. 

Aye says something in response, but whatever it is is drowned out by the noise of a rush of people behind him, all probably getting off of a train. 

“What?” asks Akk, propping his phone against the bathroom mirror and grabbing his toothbrush. 

“If it’s really not that late, then why are you falling asleep while I’m talking, hm? Am I so boring to you?” 

Akk rolls his eyes, squeezing out a little toothpaste, and says, “Maybe I just didn’t want to hear you go on and on about P’Win anymore, hm?” 

As expected, Aye zeroes in on that immediately. “Aww, is my baby jealous?”

Akk sticks his toothbrush in his mouth to avoid answering and weathers the ensuing and expected storm of teasing very bravely, if he does say so himself. He lets the ease of falling into a familiar dynamic soothe the very slight sting, and he listens patiently without showing even a hint of a smile on his face at how pleased Aye looks to have ‘won’ that admission. 

“And he’s almost as handsome as me,” Aye is saying, in his most annoying tone of voice, when suddenly he seems to stutter for a moment, his expression freezing in place on his face. It’s odd enough that Akk makes a questioning noise through his mouthful of toothpaste. 

“Akk…” Aye starts. He looks conflicted now, mouth turning down even as he speaks. “You’re not — really, though, right?”

Akk blinks. Then spits. Then says, “No,” even though it’s not 100% true.

His face must show it, because Aye’s frown droops even further and he says, clearly enunciated, “It’s not like that. You know I’m just—”

“Teasing,” Akk interrupts, having mercy on him. “I know. Aye, no, you’re fine. I don’t actually think you’re serious, or you wouldn't have spent the last half hour explaining why P’Win is absolutely definitely taken anyway.” And you wouldn’t usually worry that I did, Akk thinks, so why?

Usually, if he thinks he’s gone too far, Aye just drapes himself over Akk like a particularly affectionate cat, no matter what he’s doing. He kisses his way back to forgiveness, he brings Akk dinner or looks over his homework or buys him stupid, cute little charms to put on his phone keychain, and Akk always lets him even and especially if he isn’t actually mad, and — he can’t do any of that, six hours and half the world away. Oh. This is that communication thing they’re supposed to be better at by now. 

Aye is still staring at him with giant, horrible pleading eyes, because he doesn’t believe him, and he shouldn’t because Akk is still sort of lying. 

Akk sighs. “I’m jealous of anyone who gets to see you all the time.” He can’t keep looking at Aye, his gaze drifting towards the edge of the bathroom counter. “Just a little. That’s all it is. I’m— glad you have Thai friends, actually. You seemed a bit homesick lately. I think it’s cheering you up.” 

It’s silent for a little too long, and Akk finally looks up to make sure nothing’s happened to the connection and finds Aye with one hand over his mouth, eyes still huge but soft around the edges now. 

“What,” he mumbles. 

“My boyfriend is the sweetest,” Aye says, as he’d feared he would, all earnest and sincere and completely without the teasing edge, which makes it worse. 

Akk jerks his head away again, in a motion he couldn’t control if he wanted to. He puts his toothbrush into the cup with more force than is strictly necessary. “It’s just the truth, isn’t it?” 

“Phi reheated omelets on his break the other day and I thought I was gonna cry for a minute,” Aye tells him, laughing an embarrassed little laugh. “They’re not right here. They’re all undercooked and flavorless.”

“Did you get to have any?” asks Akk, imagining Aye looking (up, statistically) at this mysterious P’Win with his awful begging eyes.

“I wouldn't steal my senior’s lunch.”

Akk can’t help the little satisfied twitch of his mouth at that scandalized tone. Aye steals Akk’s lunch all the time. “Too bad. I get it a little, though. I really miss the way my mom prepares things.” 

Chiang Mai is easily 14 hours of travel from his house, more if you count having to switch trains, and he’s only been back once. He dutifully calls his parents every Sunday, but they don’t really have good enough reception there for regular video calls. 

Aye makes a sympathetic noise, then glances at something up and to the right of the camera. He frowns. “Baby, I have to go soon.” 

“‘Kay,” answers Akk, raising a hand to cover a sudden yawn. 

“Don’t worry about me too much,” Aye says, smiling at the screen all little and v-shaped. “I’m okay. I’ll go to a market and get my own ingredients and make my own omelet, and I’ll text you all the time, and I’ll call my mom twice so she can pretend I’m her favorite over you. Don’t you get too homesick either, okay?”

“Even if—“ Akk starts, hesitates, then forges on. He can say these things; he’s worked to say these things. “Even if I visit,” he tells Aye’s tiny, beloved face, miles and miles away and here in his dorm bathroom, “I’ll still be homesick until you come back. You’re my home.” 

Aye stares at him, mouth open for a minute, then demands, “Pick up your phone.”

“What?”

“Just do it. Pick up your phone.”

Slowly and distrustfully, Akk takes his phone off the counter and holds it closer to his face. “Wha—“

Aye’s screen moves suddenly closer and then goes dark, the sound weird and muffled. “Hug me,” he says, just barely audible. 

Akk laughs a little, breathless and pointlessly fond. What must it look like, to those people in the subway station? Alone in his own room, though, he doesn’t hesitate to pull his phone to his chest, right over his heart. 

After a moment, though, he gives in to the temptation to peek and finds the screen still dark. “Aye.”

The station blurs into view again behind an Aye who looks notably pinker than before, a rush of people just like the last one passing behind again. “You’re so — I love you so much,” Aye tells him, sounding helpless, “and I miss you. It’s stupid that term break is still so far away.”

“Aye,” says Akk again, unable to stop grinning if he’d actively tried. “Don’t be late for your train.”

“They’re always late for me,” grumbles Aye, but he sighs and says, “Go to bed, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Love you too,” Akk tells him, just before hanging up so he doesn’t have to deal with whatever new heart-squeezing thing Aye’s face is going to do at that. 

Just before he actually gets into bed, quiet in the sudden silence of his empty dorm, his phone lights up with a text: "❤️❤️❤️❤️"

And far away, in a subway car in England, Aye barely represses a little noise of delight to receive “❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️” in return.