#depriving them of that attention by not talking to them bothers them way more than anything else

[vmures]

Want to know why I never trust the "protect the children!" crowd?

Almost always the people doing really harmful shit, or even very potentially harmful shit, to children are in that crowd.

They're often the type that circulate actual CSA materials as a bizarre gotcha to people they are bullying and calling pedos (as an example, remember the campaign against ao3 staff a while back were policy and abuse volunteers were getting sent this shit).

They are also frequently the ones to include graphic violence and implied or actual graphic sexual abuse in fics deliberately mislabled as General Audiences and tagged in a way that makes the fic seem like harmless fluff. All because they want to harass a group of people and don't care if children and teens stumble upon it. Technically children shouldn't be on ao3 (at least not as registered users since the ToS require you to be at least 13), and generally I say that it's up to children who do go to ao3 to be careful of what they read and mind the tags and ratings. But how can they do that if you deliberately mistag and misrate your fic.

In short, "protect the children" is more often than not a dog whistle. It can be one for the "we must control our children and everything they learn" crowd (frequently but not always evangelicals here in the US) or it can be one for the "I need a weapon to dehumanize, attack and traumatize those I dislike and this serves as both a weapon and a cover for my harassment and abuse of others. After all, I can just say I'm doing this horrible things to protect innocents even though I'm actually deliberately harming or setting up potential harm to children through my actions." Often it's a mix of the two camps. Ultimately, they don't actually care about children, it's just a nice smokescreen.

[jenscx]

ATTENTION 56 — wonyoung’s talk (half-written)

after minji had sent you a text, wonyoung bursts into your room, eyes blaring and cheeks puffy. minji awkwardly stares at her from your sheets, mouth agape. while she had briefly met your members during your relationship, she hadn’t had that ‘talk’ with them yet. no better time than the present, right?

right as minji was about to say something, both rei and jiwon come in as well, exasperated looks on their faces.

“uh…”

“sorry, we’re just here to collect wonyoung,” rei says, smiling as she hits the back of the girl’s head. hard. minji winces at the thud. wonyoung, however, doesn’t even bother acknowledging rei and instead inches closer to minji.

minji was grateful, don’t get her wrong, for wonyoung snapping some common sense into her and making her realise the importance of you. but she was also pretty terrified of the overprotective member. no matter you were older than wonyoung, minji knew of your importance to her. if you were to get hurt, wonyoung was your shield.

“are you going to hurt her again?” wonyoung asks. jiwon gasps and nudges her but she doesn’t back down, merely raising an eyebrow. minji swallows hard, “no, and i never will.”

“she was so heartbroken i couldn’t even laugh,” rei supplies, earning her a glare from wonyoung who frowns even more. “you shouldn’t be laughing at her anyway.”

“i talked to y/n last night,” minji explains, “she means everything to me. without her, there is no kim minji either.”

wonyoung smirks, “so you’re being overly reliant on y/n?”

“no, but she’s a part of me,” minji replies. meanwhile your other two members just stare at the back and forth between wonyoung and minji, choosing to cower behind the door. the interrogation was bound to be longer than an hour with the way wonyoung had stormed in. you might have even managed to return home by the time they were done.

“i love her, i can say that much,” minji says, “i don’t deserve her at all but she’s the one who makes the final call. i would be happy just letting her know how much she means to me. her acknowledgement is already enough for me.”

wonyoung stares at her for a moment (rei and jiwon think she’s about to pounce on minji) before sighing, “you’re right, you don’t deserve her at all.”

“why help me then?” minji asks, genuinely curious. if wonyoung thought she was undeserving of your love, why would she even text her to help her out?

“because y/n was sad without you,” she answers plainly. it was truly that simple. you were upset with the lack of kim minji in your life. wonyoung just wanted you to be happy again.

it didn’t matter whether kim minji deserved you or not. wonyoung wanted to see that spark return again. she wanted to hear your cheerful humming in the kitchen, a sleep-deprived yujin telling you to shut up. she wanted to hear your joyful skips in the hallway, gaeul telling you to slow down in case you fall. she wanted to see your face light up at the thought of minji. she wanted to just feel the happiness radiating off your body.

that was all she ever wanted.

“thank you, for making y/n happy,” wonyoung says finally, “even though she may be an idiot at times (rei silently thinks, mostly all the time), she means well. her intentions are pure. i hope you can appreciate that much.”

minji nods, “thank you for giving me this chance again. and for believing in me. i’m glad she’s as happy as me right now.”

the tall girl smiles, “good talk, kim minji.” she then turns to jiwon and rei, scowling at them and dragging them out of your room.

a notification lights up on minji’s phone. it’s you. minji subconsciously smiles before replying.

masterlist | next

TAGS ! @ky-yk @urmom2314 @nasyu-kookies @limbforalimb @yoontoonwhs @be0mluver @lesleepyyy @eunhhh @edamboon @sewiouslyz @haerinfangs @impossiblesharkcashrebel @mightymyo @dexthzone @pandafuriosa60 @dmndtears @awkwardtoafault @hyehae @haerinkisser @chaerybae @yukianism @urwyf3 @manooffline @yerisdumbass @jeindall777 @jiwoneiric @justme-idle @imthisclosetokms

[luminecent-sky]

Divinely ordained

A/n: yes this is for my birthday, i mean it's also sagau sooo

I did not finish neuvi's part, feel free to request more

Diluc

Did… did he just hear you right? He's your favorite?

His heart soars, he feels warm and giddy, like a hearth giving warmth to a home, it's almost too much, to hear the words again falling from your lips, reaffirming your earlier statement, before he jolted, wilting like a flower deprived of sunlight. Hadn't you once abhorred him? Ignored him for some petty reason after he had caught that glimmering golden star in his hand.

To gaze upon your flustered visage as you admit how petty and immature it had been to be angry at him for such a trivial thing… he thinks it was all worth it. Every bit of suffering and pain, the scars that marr his form, all for your gaze, your attention.

Keep looking at him like that, with that flustered gaze and those apologetic words,

Keep looking at him.

He puts a hand to block his face, hoping that the blush on his cheeks isn't that obvious —it clearly isn't working, his whole face is almost as red as his hair— that he isn't looking like a fool in front of his deity.

Both of you are just staring, tension building as the silence goes on for longer than either of you would like,

You break first, a nervous chuckle bubbling from your throat as you approach, holding his face gently, repeating yourself.

"I- i guess i can stop hating you for that… you are my favorite after all."

Ayaka

She may just die here, held in your embrace as the sun bears down on you both.

A light blush creeps its way onto her pale skin, obscured by her fan while she tries to wade through the thoughts flooding her mind.

She always knew of your favor towards her, evident in the blessings and artifacts she was bestowed with. All she is, and will ever become is for her deity. And this blatant admittance is something she will treasure forever, like the first and last falling petals of the sakura trees.

So please, if it isn't much of a bother… Please keep telling her that, keep speaking in that lovely voice, those utterly captivating words that even the Archons would beg and grovel for.

If only time could stop at this very moment.

Keep talking, keep those words of praise flowing from your divine mouth, and allow her to bask in it.

It's all she needs, all she's ever craved. What else was there in life to achieve now that she holds your favour?

You move to repeat your words, letting them wash over her like the cool stream water.

Her worries seem so far away now, all her duties pushed to the side for something that has now become a routine.

The people of inazuma can wait just this once, she has given her all to her duty, her family and the nation.

Rest has never been more alluring than now.

“...i think we can rest for just a little longer, no?”

Alhaitham

He must be dreaming, he muses, relishing in the way your breath fans his face.

After all, how else could he justify your sleepy murmurs, the serene declaration of the obvious favouritism he had witnessed directed only at him.

His day had been too good to be true, he thinks.

Kaveh had not woken him up with the usual clamour, in fact, the blonde was asleep, not in a hangover way, but honest to god asleep.

His work was also light, even if he barely did much anyways. It seemed like the universe itself decided to smile upon him and give him this.

And then he was summoned, aparently you had decided that perusing through the house of daena and looking through old tomes and various stories was the retinue for the day.

He never imagined that you would be quite interested in the old books, but as the scribe and only available person that day — never mind the fact that you had asked for him, he would never know — he supposed that his work was light enough that he could help you.

But here the both of you were, in a private room, with bookes piled up to your noses and your sweet whispers gracing his ears.

The library's curfew could be broken, just for once, just for you, he hummed,

After all who would question the creator on why they were here so late anyway?

Hours would pass and he would just sit there, admiring your face.

“I- uhh i didn't say anything embarrassing while i slept right?”

[sukunasweetheart]

can i just say i love your fics SMMMM my serotonin boost fr!!! what do we think abt him with an s/o who has a lot of admirers 👁

THANK YOUU here is a treat 4 u <3

sorry i ended up doing too much and also going off-topic a bit oops

it ended up becoming modern au!sukuna 😭 forgive me (gender neutral reader)

sukuna is so used to being the one overshadowing the others - he's used to being the one admired, revered, respected, for his power and intelligence. it's safe to say he'd also be used to seeing people fight each other just for a lick of his attention - desiring for even just a glance from his way. so it's a given that he's not used to feelings of possessiveness or jealousy.

but now that he has you, someone who always has others admiring you from both closeby and afar, he's beginning to understand those petty sensations and thoughts. he's obviously never one to be insecure about your popularity, on most occasions, he even likes to make a show of it - he enjoys seeing them gnashing their teeth with envy as he flaunts his relationship with you in front of their faces - "see this? all mine," he seems to say, as he openly kisses you in public.

but when it catches him on a bad day, perhaps following a bad argument, he sees you with someone who is obviously interested in being more than just a friend to you (which you're not aware of, frustratingly so), and he starts feeling sick to his stomach. with everyone else who came before you, sukuna would simply tell them "don't like it? then leave," whenever they voiced complaints to him about their relationship... but now it's the opposite of what he wants. just the thought of you being with someone that isn't him gets his heart dropping to the ground, making him feel restless.

he knows he isn't the best at being soft. nor at using the kindest words when he gets heated. he'll always be more selfish than selfless, and he's not the most emotionally intelligent. it's unlike him to use words like 'i'm sorry' or 'i love you' so he's uneasy for the moment where you might find someone who'll be everything that he isn't amongst your sea of admirers, and that you'll leave him and never look back.

it's simply so humiliating, feeling this way... he's not sure what to do about it. you seem to be seriously upset this time around, and he knows brushing past it or glossing over it using his usual charm (which is a bad habit that he has) isn't going to work. you're not acknowledging him or responding to his texts properly or saying good morning or goodnight and it's driving him insane because he misses it... you're not looking at him. he's the one gazing at you, longingly.

sukuna will pin you down eventually, somewhere, somehow, and trap you so that you're not able to avoid him any longer. he'll drag you away from your stupid little crowd of spectators and talk to you in private, where'll spend ten minutes trying to apologise in a strange, roundabout and aggressive way because he knows it's his own damn fault. you know him, so you're able to recognise that he's trying to say sorry. your gaze is still elsewhere, looking off to the side instead of him. and that bothers him immensely.

"why won't you look at me?" god, he sounds so sad and pathetic.

truth is, sukuna now simply withers out and dies a little without your attention. what can he do to have that spotlight upon him once again? why are your eyes on anybody, anything, that isn't him? pay attention to me, and me only.

when you finally spare him a glance, he feels like breathing again. and he'll fight tooth and nail to keep that gaze of yours on him. fuck your insignificant and measly admirers. he's all you need, and sukuna's going to make sure of it. (he'll compromise for you, if he has to.)

he's definitely overstimming you in bed that night, in order to catch up on all the lost pride and attention that you'd deprived him of.

tagging; @gojos-thot-patrol <3 hope its to your liking.. even tho its not as angsty as i originally intended it to be haha

Masterlist

[tellodona]

the brothers + side characters with an mc whose first language isn't english

heads up: gn!mc, slight swearing in levi's part and mentions of male genitals in simeon's, italized means a different language, no mephisto + thirteen + raphael because i haven't met them yet 😔

i don't really know the common language between demons and angels, so right now i'm asumming they speak in english mostly

lucifer

he probably knew beforehand

i mean, he was the one who randomly chose us after our paper fell off his desk so he's bound to know

wasn't interested at first, like, so you speak two (or more) languages, what's there to make a fuss about?

apparently, a tinsy bit should be fussed about

you were half asleep, it was the weekend so you slept in, and lucifer did not know that so you were in his study helping him organize documents

he gave you three stacks that was at least half your height

it was going good actually. despite being sleep deprived you were able to do your task

that is until wind from his open window knocked down the stacks

you swore in your first language with so much vigor that lucifer looked at you

mc what the hell are you saying???

you kept talking in that language and started complaining and mentioned his name

that really caught his attention

"what was that?"

oops, good luck explaining to him what you said

if he was in a good mood, he'd probably chuckle in amusement. if not, it depends

after that, he'd probably try to learn a thing or two about your language, but with how busy he is, that'd be a stretch to do

mammon

he doesn't know

i mean, it's not like he had any way of knowing, and you never really bothered to mention him before

you and mammon were conversing in your room about literally anything. mostly about money but there are other mundane topics being tossed around

"and then that demon had the gall to blame me! me, the GREAT mammon!"

"that must've suck ass" you reply

he looked at you weirdly and confused

you thought he was confused by your response and explained why you thought that way, still in your first language

"woah, woah, woah! stop right there! human, stop speaking gibberish!"

now it was your turn to get confused

"what- oh."

you stared at each other for a moment before you explained this was your first language

he was actually intrigued and shook your shoulders asking if he was the first one to know

i mean, he is, right?! he should be! he's your first man!

has tried to learn your language, promptly gave up after three full sentences

leviathan

he had a hunch since you keep muttering things whenever you play with him

he first thought you were complaining under your breath because why wouldn't you? he's just a yucky, disgusting otak-

oh wait, he doesn't understand what you're saying

actually, that made him more nervous than before

right now, he got you hooked into this one game that just got released and you both were enjoying it

you enjoyed it a bit too much

so when you both finally defeated that big boss you were trying to kill, you were ecstatic

"FUCKING FINALLY! AFTER SO LONG!" you shout in his ear drums

he had to cover his ears first because you were cheering so loud and that you were shaking his shoulders

he was too busy having his organs shook around to be embarrassed

"m- mc! s- slow down!"

you finally calmed down for a while, still giggling and ranting to him, in your first language, while he calmed his racing heart

mc, he doesn't understand you, please slow down

"mc....... i don't u- understand what you're saying........"

you stop and stare at him. he flinched thinking you got offended

"oh, i'm so sorry!"

you had to explain to him slowly that you were speaking in your first language

after that, he got so interested

he spent the whole night to learn your language, and the night after, and the night after that, and the night after the night after that

so yeah, expect him to hold a proper conversation with you in two languages

satan

has probably put two and two together when you both visited a library that had a few books from the human world and you were looking at books with your first language

he was interested

so when you were holding like three books by the counter, he asked:

"what language is this?"

you answered him, and also added that it was your first language

he nodded, and made a mental note in his head

when you were walking home with your books in hand, he asked what the books were about and you explained bits of it and why it intrigued you enough to buy them

he was also interested in the said books, and finds it a shame that he wouldn't understand its contents

unless.......

yes, expect him to ask you to be his tutor about your language

after all, isn't it better to learn straight from the source?

and he also used it as an excuse to hang out more with you

before you know it, he's the one who's reading the books you've bought

you haven't even finished them yet!

that's a pity then, mc. just one more chapter and he'll give it back-

asmodeus

like mammon, he wouldn't know without you telling him beforehand

you and him were having a spa day in his bathroom

it wasn't sexual or anything, he just wants you both to have a relaxing time together! isn't that lovely, mc?

you were both in his bathtub, with him massaging your shoulders to sooth your sore muscles

"doesn't it feel good, mc?" he asks, a grin painting his face when he sees you relaxing under his very touch

you nod, "feels so good. keep going, asmo."

he stops

what was that, mc?

you furrow your eyebrows, "is there something wrong?" you turn to look at him

he looks dumbfounded, before shaking his head and his grin widening, "oh, mc! you didn't tell me you know another language!"

you both ended up chatting about it, him listening intently as he continues to massage you

he might learn a thing or two to flirt with you just to see your cheeks tinted pink, but he mostly wouldn't learn a lot

beelzebub

you cook lots of stuff from the human world, mostly from your culture, so he ended up asking you what these dishes are and you mentioned it came from your home country

so he should know by now, since he likes listening to you talk and asked a lot of stuff, and by extension, your culture and languages

you were on cooking duty for dinner, and he managed to convince you to let him help out with the promise of not eating everything

you were cooking your favorite dishes from your country, and happily explained to him what they are

he listens intently (while eating a block of cheese you gave him), nodding along

anything food related intrigues him, so if he comes across a dish he hasn't heard before he'd be curious about it

when you mention the name of the dish, he tilts his head and tests it out with his mouth "...am i pronouncing it right, mc?"

"a little more work, but you've got it!"

he butchered it

but it's fine, it's beel. he doesn't know your first language in the first place!

dinner comes around, he's the one mentioning to his brothers what the dishes are (still butchering the name, but a little better than before)

the brothers did not understand what he just said

be sure to be ready for him to ask for seconds, thirds, fourths, and so on and so forth

he'd be interested in learning, but would probably learn more about your culture (especially the food) since he doesn't want to mispronounce anything

belphegor

has probably heard you talk in your sleep before, so he put two and two together as well

beel was out so you two were alone in their room

you were asleep, cuddling beside him, and he was about to drift as well when you-

"belphie... the stove is on..."

???????

what are you talking about?

he furrows his eyebrows and shrugs it off, pulling you closer to him

"i think the kitchen... is on fire... lucifer did it..."

what is it with lucifer now?

"what the hell are you dreaming..." he mutters under his breath

he closed his eyes, drifting to sleep

after your nap, he asked you what in the world you were dreaming that you were sleep talking about him and lucifer

you were embarrassed

he mentioned that he didn't understand you for the most part (you were relieved) so you explained it to him

he finds it intriguing, but doesn't show it. he shrugs it off

"just don't bother me with your sleep talking..."

oh please keep doing it

the next time you sleep talk he was wide awake, his ddd on, and doogle (google) translate at the ready

he was definitely laughing his ass off when you muttered "lucifer lost his pants..."

diavolo

same way as lucifer, he knew beforehand through your documents

he did take the time to learn a few phrases though to surprise you when you both had gotten closer

you were having tea with him in the castle gardens and he suddenly goes "how was your day, mc?"

you had to do a double take, but then a big grin makes it way to your face

he finds it adorable

but then you suddenly reply in your first language in perfect clarity and continously that he already lost you at the "i'm"

"ahahaha....... i'm not that knowledgeable yet, mc......."

"oops."

you both end up talking about it more, and he asked how you knew english and you answered with how you did

he listens intently, nodding along

when you went home after a few hours, he had barbatos bring him a dictionary with your first language and has made it his goal to learn it (while juggling his responsibilities)

he's a pretty fast learner that the brothers have to suffer with you both talking each other's ears off and they can't get the tea

barbatos

are we even going to ask

this man definitely knew

he's lived long enough but he didn't have the time to learn it before you came to the devildom because he's a terribly busy guy

he has his day offs however, so he of course wanted to spend it with you

he had invited you over for tea and you both ended up talking about the human world

he took this chance to ask if you speak your first language by any chance with that sly smirk on his face

you were surprised, but you answered yes anyway

it's better to not question anything when it comes to him, to be honest

will probably ask good references to learn your language, and you provided some that you knew

he may ask for your help though

just to spend time with you

before you know it, he's talking your ear off with your own language that you had to ask him to slow down

he just smiles

solomon

he wouldn't know you speak the language, but he knows how to speak it himself

let's face it, he's a smart guy, what's wrong with learning a few languages?

you're in his room, you helping him out by giving him the things he needs for some experiments

you both were just talking about mundane things and you end up asking

"what's one thing i don't know about you?"

he paused, but continued his work, humming in thought

"hm... i speak a few more languages, actually."

"that's expected, to be honest." you nod

out of curiosity, you ask him about your first language

he chuckles and nods that he does speak it

you gaped

"no way?!"

"oh, no way?"

you both continued conversing in that language

"you know, i was there when it was created. it was long ago, but it was such a fine time."

okay, old man

simeon

he wouldn't know without being told either

you both were texting each other, he's gotten good at typing now and he's proud!

he managed to type a long word without any typos and was so happy that you were happy too

without thinking, you congratulated him in your first language

uhm. mc?

"wait, are you having typos now, too?!"

he sends a worried sticker and was genuinely confused and concerned it's actually adorable

you had to explain it to him as simple as possible that it was your first language

"ooooh, i see."

has asked you a few quotes to be translated in your language so he could add it in his books

he thinks they're fine literature and can really set the mood and add thrill into it

he, however, searched up a few words himself and asked you what they mean

"mc, what does dick mean?"

oh, lord

luke [platonic]

wouldn't know either

you and him were discussing human world delicacies and ingredients and you ended up with your country

he volunteered to search it up and you told him he doesn't need to because you know it yourself

mc????? that's so cool!

you ended up cooking together, and he took it as an opportunity to ask questions about your culture and your language

"the food already smells so good, mc! what was it called again? anyway, how did you learn english? was it hard? do you always get your language and english mixed up?"

you had to remind him to take out the batter from the oven before it overcooks

needless to say, he has another thing he wants to learn besides baking and cooking

[veryinnovative]

professional chef regulus can't sleep and works a mcdonald's graveyard shift. a small thingie inspired by this. 1486 words & totally sfw!

It came and went in waves, the bouts of insomnia that held him captive in sleep-elusive nights. Those hours of darkness where finding his rest proved itself to be no more than a fleeting chore, often resulting in Regulus dragging himself out from underneath his covers to find respite elsewhere. A place that wasn't a nightmare materialized in four enclosing walls, turning the small space of his bedroom into a reenactment of past events that only surface when he's stuck in that liminal space between consciousness and sleep.

An enigma, truly, the inability to sleep regardless of how much running a restaurant deprives him of his energy. What’s even more riddling, however, is the sight of Regulus Arcturus Black appearing in Stebbins’ office at 1:45 a.m. on a Saturday night, already wearing a McDonald’s polo he keeps stored in the bottom of his nightstand drawer. Why an award-winning chef with a long history of working in upscale establishments turns up at a fast-food chain is a mystery no one has been able to solve yet. Then again, people drink two liters of room-temperature chocolate milk to combat head-splintering migraines so there is no questioning a seasoned insomniac’s methods.

“Sup, Regulus. Another of those nights, eh?” Stebbins asks him with his feet planted on his desk. There is a monstrosity of a half-eaten quintuple cheeseburger in front of him – the equivalent of a heart attack between two buns. On the computer screen, a game of Solitaire is opened instead of the Excel file of expenditures he should probably be working on.

“Grill or cashier?” Regulus asks while working the pin into its place. It says ‘Mark’. Don’t ask him about that either.

Stebbins slurps his soda, the paper straw soggy and disfigured with the indents of teeth. “Sorry, mate, it’s drive-thru for you tonight. Got a newbie who’s gotta learn how to make the patties. Still know how it works?”

There is something incredibly surreal about having a three-star Michelin chef turn up at your restaurant and have them take orders instead, but Regulus doubts that his culinary prowess could elevate the taste of a Quarter Pounder by a large margin. That and Stebbins is high as a kite if the red-rimmed eyes are anything to go by.

“Shit– aren’t you that dude from Food & Wine? Begulus Rack?”

“In the flesh.”

“Man, this is a McDonald’s, you know that right?”

“Yes. Can I work here for a few hours? I’ll only need unlimited coffee as pay.”

“Why?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You’re fucking hired.”

It’s how it had become a common occurrence. Once in a month or two, Regulus would enter the shabby building and take his spot at whatever station was available at the time. Stebbins, the manager working graveyard shifts, welcomed him with little inquiries every time. 

It’s how Regulus finds himself nearly thirty minutes into his shift, wireless headset on, and the seconds ticking by with little hustle and bustle. It’s not the social interaction that bothers him, but the lack of attention the entire ordeal demands. He’s bored. Not tired enough. And wonders if he should go for his nth cup of coffee since sleep is most definitely not going to be it.

Then, a car pulls up to the intercom post, and he taps on the screen before him, pulling up the order tab. “Welcome to McDonald's, may I take your order?”

A loud yawn reverberates through his earpiece before a gravelly voice mumbles, “A McDick menu, please.”

Regulus is going to stick his head in the deep fryer. “Go away, Barty.”

Then, another voice joins, the rasp of a French accent lilting his words, “I’ll have the same. Can I upgrade mine to a large?”

Barty snickers into the intercom and Regulus bridles at both their voices. “Can you both sod off?”

Evan tuts. “Now, that’s no way to speak to a customer now, is it?”

“Yeah,” Barty interjects, sucking his teeth. “Where the fuck is your manager? I want to talk to him.”

“Probably off wanking somewhere or getting high,” Evan mumbles in the background, to which Barty hums in approval.

“Go home, you both stayed out late tonight.” Barty and Evan had not returned to their shared apartment after their shift at L’Astre and had instead chosen to use their night to mindlessly drive around. 

“We went home and you weren’t there, Reg. We’re here to pick you up.”

“Barty, I’m fine. Just go.”

“Don’t be like that, Reg. Come home and I’ll make you a hot choccy before cuddling you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

“Evan, we both know you and Barty are going to be fucking each other's brains out. If I’m not going to be able to sleep, I might as well do that here.”

“Look at this git,” Barty barks out, “some cuddles from his Jamie and suddenly he’s giving us the cold shoulder, Evs. Are you telling me that Mr. Sunshine is a better spooner than I am? We might have to hold a spoon-off.”

More angry grumbling before Evan sounds through the intercom again. “I’ll call in James to drag your greasy ass home. Bring one of those Sugar Donuts with you.”

“You will do no such th–” The sound of tires screeching cut him off before the intercom goes quiet again and Regulus sighs, deeply, lamenting the fact that is his best friends always butting in.

Does he have unhealthy coping methods? Yes. Definitely. Without a shadow of a doubt.

Does this warrant cosseting (his friends just caring for him)? No. Absolutely not.

So it’s no surprise that when a car pulls up, approximately twenty minutes later, James’ voice resounds through the intercom, speech slurred with sleep.

“Mi vida,” he sighs, “come home.”

“I’m working.”

“You're not working,” James counters. “You're tiring yourself out in the most ridiculous of ways."

“I'm not tiring myself. This is quite calming, actually.”

“Baby, there is nothing remotely calming about working at a McDonald's at almost three in the morning.”

“Order. You're holding up the line.”

“Wha– there's no line! It isn't common practise to drive to a McDonald's this late, amor.”

“Your order.”

James groans loud enough for the intercom to fill his headpiece with static. “The usual.”

Regulus types in a singular Cadbury Flake Chocolate McFlurry.

“That will be one ninety-nine. Pull up to the window.”

James pulls up to the first window, driving a fancy trust-fund-baby Porsche, to pay for his purchase, and Regulus slides open the window to extend the terminal toward him. Only to end up watching how James turns off the engine, exits the vehicle, keys in hand, and dressed in pajamas still.

Regulus blinks. “Why did y– James!”

There is a startled sound when he suddenly climbs through the window.

“Get out,” Regulus hisses, trying to push him. “You can’t–”

“Watch me.”

“Are you mad?!”

“Not mad enough to work a McDonald's shift,” James grumbles, flinging both his legs over and coming to stand before Regulus. His hair is mussed and there are rabbit slippers on his feet, the socks mismatched like they were haphazardly put on before leaving through the door.

“Out.” Regulus points his finger to the window.

The thing is, James is an amiable man – not easily deterred nor someone who can be promptly riled up with little to no effort. 

None of that is applicable when he is woken up between the sacred hours of one and four for inconveniences. And Regulus working a graveyard shift hardly counted as an emergency.

What’s the worst that can happen when two boyfriends have a stare-off in the ass of the night, in a McDonald’s?

“Oh, James, here to pick up Regulus?” Comes Stebbins’ voice.

James doesn’t look up. “Yeah, could you make me my order real quick?”

“Sure thing, mate. The usual?”

“Extra chocolate drizzle, please.”

“Right on.”

Regulus isn’t backing out now. He keeps his gaze glued to his, expression indifferent and arms defiantly crossed over his chest. 

“Regulus.”

“Oh, it’s Regulus now, is it?”

“Your other nickname rights have been rescinded until you enter the car.”

“I think I can decide for myself, Potter.”

“You– That’s unfair!”

James’ bottom lip juts out just slightly in the makings of a pout and, well, Regulus is a weak man.

He sighs, tired, and rubs his eyes. “I’m tired.”

There are arms around him immediately, tugging his exhausted body into a warm, tight embrace, despite his aversion to public displays of affection. “Let me drive you to my place instead, baby, how’s that sound?”

Regulus snorts against his shoulder. “I doubt much sleeping will happen.”

“Maybe, but it will tire you out for sure. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it much more than working the drive-thru.”

No other incentive is needed for Regulus to open the window and clamber out of it, followed by a grinning James who is undoubtedly happy with having obtained a McFlurry and one Regulus Black for a two-for-free deal.

[styrvexxual]

Han Jisung's Guide to The College Experience (CH. 2)

Pt. 2 to my first ever fic :)

minsung-centric ft. side pairings wooo

7.1k Chapter (14.5k total so far)

This ch. specifically contains alcohol use and mentions of other drugs so be aware!

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61759963/chapters/158494408

link to ch1: https://www.tumblr.com/styrvexxual/771354434446000128/han-jisungs-guide-to-the-college-experience-ch?source=share

Thursday morning finds Jisung regretting every decision he’s ever made that’s led him to this exact moment in time. So basically, it's an average day. His little temper tantrum, as Kim Seungmin would probably refer to it as, has left him with a bit of a migraine and a lot of sleep deprivation. He may only be two weeks into the semester, but he can already feel himself slipping into a certain autopilot mode he fears will be his new normal, which just means going to the bare minimum amount of lectures and taking precise notes with the intent of copy-pasting them into his assignments later. He kind of has this down to a science by now as general education requirements have not been the kindest to him.

Jisung decides, in spite of his below-average physical condition, that going to class could do him some good. He needs something to take his mind off of Minho, and it’s not like he’s held at gunpoint to pay attention to his lectures. Okay, so it’s basically just taking a walk to rot away on his laptop somewhere that isn’t his bedroom, but at least he looks like a model student while doing it. Chan would be so proud of him! He wouldn’t, but what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him.

Thursday evening, however, is when the consequences of Jisung’s fucked up schedule really start to rear their ugly heads. Having an 8 pm class into an 8 am the next day seriously can’t be healthy. Exhaustion settles deep in his body; and as he escapes the clutches of his late-night lecture, he briefly recalls opening his phone to make a call, but nothing afterward.

Jisung wakes up Friday morning feeling far better than he did the morning after his certified crash-out moment over Minho. He also wakes up in someone else’s house. A quick roll over to his other side and the least graceful fall of his life aid him in identifying his sleeping surface of choice as Changbin’s coffee table.

How in the everloving fuck did he get here?

He must have voiced this thought out loud, seeing as Changbin took it upon himself to respond with a simple, “You tell me, kid. I came back from class last night and you were passed out on my coffee table. Didn’t know if you actually needed something, but you were pretty knocked out so I didn’t want to bother you.”

Changbin then adds, “You do also have a discussion in a half-hour, so if I were you I’d spend a little less time acting confused and a little more time walking to class.”

Jisung once again toys with the idea of giving up on his career and living off of Changbin’s trust fund, but that would require marrying Changbin. He’s already been on Hyunjin’s bad side once, and he doesn’t plan on returning any time soon. Oh well, no time to dwell on that, Jisung has a discussion to get to. Fuck Friday classes.

“I did have to talk to you, by the way. But I allegedly, according to anonymous sources, have a class to attend and will instead be back to bother you in the near future.” Jisung responds, already making his way toward the door.

As he makes his grand escape, Jisung hears a faint voice that sounds suspiciously like his friend. Something about ‘making this short’ and ‘Hyunjin absolutely doesn’t need to get caught up in this’. Jisung realizes Changbin must be on the phone with someone, he sure does work quickly.

Class, as per usual, is wildly uneventful. Two weeks into the semester and Jisung finds he can’t even remember what class of his has a discussion. Look, beating his high score in 2048 is far more important than learning about dead people who wrote books when they weren’t so dead. Or is this discussion for his genetics lecture? No matter, any class that has an 8 am discussion is a class that has no bearing on Jisung.

Upon his return to Changbin’s place, albeit a little later than anticipated, Jisung decides to make both his presence and problems loud and clear. “So basically I just can’t fucking stand my TA,” he announces to the room, seating himself at the dining table.

“And pray tell, how this is my problem?” he hears from the couch. Oh good, Changbin is actually home.

“It’ll be your problem when I murder him in cold blood, and you’re the only person around to carry out the role of an expert witness. I need you around so I have someone to bribe into committing perjury so I can escape jail time.”

“Well, it’s great to hear you’re as dramatic as ever.” Thanks, Changbin. How kind of you. “Also why would I take a bribe from you, I’m not the one that wants to live off their friend’s money?”

“Because you love me, or at least I thought so. Look, that’s really not the point here.”

“Whatever man, just get back to your TA dramafest. I thought I had better things to do than listen to this but I fear I don’t, so today’s your lucky day.”

“Look, I made this friend in my dance class, and I was asking him about the TA. I said a few things about him that he apparently overheard, and he completely blew up at me!”

“How mature Jisung, I’m so proud of you for branching out and meeting people,” Changbin replies, his tone falling flat. If only he had meant what he said.

Jisung hears something akin to giggling and wonders how thin the walls in Changbin’s apartment complex are. His face screws up as the light sound of a slap and frantic shushing follows. Seriously? It’s 3 pm for fucks sake, way too early to be behaving like freaks in Jisung’s humble opinion.

“Could you stop dunking on me for like five seconds? I do actually need help here, my grades are at stake here man.”

“Dude you are in way too deep with this whole thing. It’s just some guy, I really don’t get why you care so much. Usually, when you don’t get along with people it tends to roll off your back,” The implications of Changbin’s inquisitive tone are not something Jisung wants to get into right now, but it definitely pisses him off.

“I care because he’s a massive dick! So what I was whispering about him, all I did was compliment him. If anything, he should be thanking me!”

“Honestly the more you tell me the more I begin to see the other guy’s side of this.”

“At least I’m not a lunatic who thinks my classmates are out to get me despite my inherent ability to get along with every single person on earth. Or someone sensitive enough to believe a person complimenting you behind your back equates to petty gossip.”

Exasperation seeps through Jisung’s bloodstream over having to plead his case to his best friend. Who knew that a vent session, or two at this point, would leave him even more riled up than when he began? Maybe he shouldn’t have made friends with people who actually care about him, he needs more yes men in his life.

“Are you done yet? It’s date night and I’m sick and tired of hearing your thinly veiled pining.” A third voice interjects, and Jisung pales as he sees a mop of hair rise up from behind the couch.

“Suck my dick Hwang. Has he been here the whole time?” Jisung asks, turning to face both Changbin and the consequences of his actions.

Changbin’s conversation over the phone earlier makes a lot more sense now that it’s been contextualized for Jisung. He now also realizes that Changbin was talking to him this morning and feels only slightly remorseful given how much his friend has pissed him off today.

“Yeah? I told you this morning before your class he was coming over later. Do you ever listen to me?” Changbin retorts; and yeah, Jisung did kind of deserve that one. “Look, my frat is throwing tomorrow night. I know you think Greek life is a bunch of bullshit, but I swear I know a guy who can help. He’s on exec and a dance major so he literally knows everyone, I’m sure he can help with your mystery man problem.”

“You clearly already know how I feel about this idea, so why bother asking? Also, if Hyunjin is here, why can’t he just tell me what to do?”

“First of all, you never gave me a name. Second, you told me to suck your dick and I am so grossed out by the thought of the thought of it that I am now withholding my assistance.” He hears Hyunjin pipe up from his new place on the couch where Jisung could actually see him. If only that were the case an hour ago.

“Dude just trust me, I want to help you. It’s just unfortunate that in order for you to be helped, you’ve got to do some networking.” Jisung wants to explain to Changbin that networking is a bullshit word for taking a concoction of substances and yelling at frat guys over mediocre music, but he’s starting to get a little desperate here.

Jisung decides to choose his next words carefully so as to not offend Changbin in the process of cursing his entire frat and their future bloodlines. He then decides that Changbin can go fuck himself, and instead says, “Whatever dude, just don’t let him get too coked out before I can talk to him or whatever it is you guys do at these parties.”

“Hey, I don’t do coke, and he doesn’t do coke, so no problem there.”

“Yeah, and I’m gonna pass all my classes this semester.” Jisung backtracks when he realizes Changbin is, in fact, serious, “I’ll be there, but you better make this worth my time.”

“You can count on me,” Changbin responds; right arm at the ready in a mock salute.

He hears Hyunjin giggle from across the room before adding, “Don’t worry Sungie, I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid!”

Jisung really needs to make new friends.

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

Jisung spends what could and should have been a beautiful Saturday morning out on the town burning a hole into his phone with his gaze. He also spends his morning realizing how stupid he must look, staring at Felix’s newly saved phone number as if it holds all the secrets of the universe. Well, he knows how to dance and talk to Lee Minho, so Jisung supposes that’s basically the same thing.

“Seriously dude, what’s got you this worked up on a weekend? And please don’t tell me it's Minho, even if it is. I’m not getting involved in whatever that is.” Jisung hears from behind him. Great, he forgot that Seungmin would be here, no classes on a Saturday, and all that. Good to know he did, in fact, look stupid given that it was enough for Seungmin to bring it up.

“I mean, it's technically not about Minho?” Jisung responds, “Just someone whose number I got to help me learn to dance since he flat out refuses to help even if it's his job.”

“Oh? I’m surprised you were able to convince someone to be your friend after what you told me about your little class incident on Wednesday”

“Shut up man, I told you what happened with Minho is a misunderstanding. Look, Changbin told me he’d be able to help with it if I went to a party with him tonight, so it’s all good. But right now, I really do need to learn how to dance.”

“I still fail to see why you’re sitting here sweating over sending a text. I doubt you want to impress him that badly or anything.” Seungmin gives Jisung approximately half a second to try and come up with a response before saying, “Holy shit! You totally have a crush on him. And here I was thinking you had the hots for my childhood best friend.”

“Nobody has a crush on anybody! I just don’t seem to have the best track record with dance majors, and he’s the only one I’ve ever willingly tried to befriend.”

Seungmin doesn’t quite seem to buy it, but it’s enough to get him to drop the topic, instead saying, “I didn’t realize that many dance majors were stuck with the likes of you in some beginners class. What’s his name? I told you I know a few dance majors.”

“Felix? He’s in our year so I wouldn’t put it past you to somehow know him too.”

Seungmin seems to think for a second before responding, “Of course I know him, he’s like Minho’s adopted child. I don’t think I’ve seen one of them without the other since Felix started here. Kinda like how Chan and Changbin are with you honestly.”

“Seriously? Guess that explains why Minho wasn’t upset with him after Wednesday. Anyways, he promised he’d help me out with the class but I just don’t know what to say.”

“Wow, I’m actually starting to feel a little bad about this. Give me a minute and I’ll help you, but I don’t think you need it, Lixie’s completely harmless.”

Jisung only finds it in him to try and respond to that after Seungmin already turned away from him, typing something on his phone and setting it down next to him on his desk. As he gets back to whatever essay he had been working on, Jisung sees his own phone light up with a text from Felix, asking if he had time for a quick phone call.

He clicks the call button on the top of the screen, and it takes Felix exactly two rings to pick up the phone, answering with a, “Hi Jisung! Seungminnie told me you were bad at texting, so I figured you’d prefer a phone call,”

“Well I wouldn’t go that far,” Jisung responds with a frown, “I just really need help with dance and I didn’t know how to ask for it.”

“You’re so silly Jisung, of course I’ll help you, I’d never go back on a promise like that. Do you have time today? I don’t want to pressure you; but if you want, I could meet you in the dance building in like an hour.”

“Yeah, that works. Want me to bring you anything? I feel bad making you do this kind of work for free.”

“Just yourself is all! Plus, I’m taking a course for my major that teaches us how to teach dance, so really you’re just helping me finish my homework.”

“You sure? I mean it is the weekend, you could be having fun but instead, you’re being forced to teach some stranger how to dance for a class you aren’t even technically in.”

“Trust me, if I didn’t want to I wouldn’t have offered. I’ll see you in an hour Jisung,” Felix says, a smile evident in his voice. After quick goodbyes and a completely unwanted interruption from Kim Seungmin, Jisung hangs up the phone and makes his way over to his wardrobe to get ready for his dance lesson.

The dance building isn’t somewhere Jisung enjoys making the journey to on a normal day, but having to make the trek across campus on a Saturday before lunch is even worse. He suddenly feels bad for forcing Felix to make his way over here as well, no matter how much the other insists he doesn’t mind. As he walks in, he hears the distinct noise of classical music playing through the speakers of one of the rooms. There aren’t any classes on weekends, so Jisung is left wondering who could possibly be spending their morning in the most secluded part of campus. With the ambiance created by the mystery student, Jisung has to admit the dance building is actually quite gorgeous. Surrounded by trees with most of the walls being massive windows, it’s definitely one of the more relaxing places on campus. Before he can fall too deep into thought, he’s interrupted by Felix coming up behind him to greet him.

“How long have you been here?” Jisung asks, noticing Felix is already dressed and slightly exerted.

“I got here right when you called. Minho needed help with some choreography so I came in to walk through it with him. Told you it wasn’t an inconvenience for me to come out here,” Felix responds with a grin. How he can be friends with the likes of Minho and Seungmin, Jisung doesn’t understand.

“Minho’s the only other one here? I hope I didn’t make my presence too known coming in. I can truly never be too careful around him.”

“Don’t worry, I only even came out here cause you never texted me. I didn’t even tell him you’d be here, so it’s not like you’ll have to talk to him.”

“It’s not really the talking part I’m worried about, I already really fucked that part up. I’d rather he never actually watch me dance if he doesn’t have to, can’t give him another reason to hate me.” Jisung says with a sad smile, following Felix down the hall into the studio they booked for the next two hours.

As Felix sets up his phone with the speakers, Jisung sets his stuff down and tries to run through some of the stretches they typically do in class. He finds that it’s a lot easier to settle into some of the positions without a teacher and thirty other students breathing down your neck all the time. As he falls into the rhythm of the yoga-like warmup, he realizes why people like Minho love dance so much. For all of that pent-up anger and hatred inside of him, dance must be pretty cathartic. It’s like when Jisung goes to the gym to let his stress from classes out except a little more graceful but just as sweaty. As Jisung finishes his stretches, Felix turns to him to announce that he’ll be going over what they do in classes so as to not confuse Jisung too much by bringing new moves into the mix.

Felix leads both of them through the warm-up exercises they did last class since Jisung was made aware that he’ll have to memorize them for his midterm. They make it to the flat-back sequence when Jisung asks if they can pause for a second.

“Are you okay?” he hears Felix ask, “If I’m going too fast you can tell me, I promise I don’t want to overwork you.”

“Nah not at all dude. It’s just, I don’t get it. This is supposed to be a beginner's class but this really doesn’t feel easy. How the fuck do people like you and Minho do this, or anything harder for that matter, with such ease?”

“Don’t worry about all that. I’ve been watching you and you’re doing everything correctly on a basic level, the flexibility and form take time, just let your body get used to it,” Felix states, before adding, “You know, Minho would be happy to hear you say that one day. It would mean a lot to him to know you’ve inadvertently gained respect for him through dance.”

“I’m sure it would,” Jisung responds, sarcasm evident in his voice, “Just like I’m sure it brings him great joy to see me struggle so badly while refusing help.”

“It really would, Jisung,” Felix interrupts, “Now back to work, we don’t have all day in here and I will make you a real dancer by the end of this semester even if it’s the last thing I do!”

Dancers really do take their work seriously, Jisung thinks. He lets himself be led through a few more center exercises, smiling when Felix praises him for a job well done and frowning as he tries to replicate Felix’s verbal critiques or demonstrations in his own body. How dancers can bend their bodies at will to recreate the various phrases and ideas a teacher throws out Jisung will never understand. But then again, it’s not like Felix will ever understand how to layer vocals and sounds into something beautiful, so he supposes everyone just has their own niche when it comes to art.

Felix proceeds to lead Jisung through the exercises across the floor that they learning on Wednesday, and he wonders if it’s possible to get PTSD from doing a dance move. Not necessarily because of the exercise itself, or maybe that too, but mostly just because all it reminds him of is his horrible first interaction with Minho. Jisung still doesn’t understand that stupid not-quite-walking exercise, and remembers how upset he was by the practiced ease with which Minho demonstrated. He tries not to let his frustrations show too much on his face. Felix is practically a stranger still, and Jisung really doesn’t want to scare him off by crashing out over the simplest possible combination of the day.

They get through a few more exercises before Jisung’s exhaustion gets the better of him, and he can barely stand up without the help of the ballet barres at the back of the room. Who knew dance was such a killer cardio workout? Not Jisung, that’s for sure. Felix seems to take note of this, turning the music down and making his way over to Jisung, who has stationed himself in the back left corner of the room.

“I think we might be done for the day, right?” he asks with a laugh.

“No shit Sherlock,” Jisung replies, keeping his tone light.

“Did you at least have fun?”

“You could say that. It’s a lot less stressful without a teacher and her nightmare T.A. breathing down your back.”

“I'm glad to hear it. Now get up, we still have to do a cooldown, or your muscles will all tense up.”

Felix ends their session by leading Jisung through a set of stretches similar to the ones he did on his own at the beginning of their lesson. Unfortunately, he comes to the realization that Felix is right, and he should really do this more often, especially after his normal workouts. It isn’t until Jisung starts packing up his stuff while Felix messes with the sound system that he speaks again.

“I feel bad for making you do this for me, I mean we barely even know each other. Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”

“Seriously Jisungie, you’re too kind. Don’t sweat it, I had fun.”

“I’m going out tonight with some of my friends, you want to come with? Seungmin will be there, so it’s not like you won’t know anyone.” Jisung offers. Seriously, this kid is just too kind, and he feels like he’s taking advantage of it by not bringing anything to the table in return.

“As long as you’re all okay with it, I’d love to! Just let me text Minho real quick, he mentioned taking me out to a party tonight but I think he also said he might be too busy for that.”

Jisung gives Felix some time and space to figure out his plans, turning around and packing up his stuff in the hopes that he’ll get the chance to shower before they have to start pregaming. They definitely went a bit over their allotted time, and Jisung has some homework to catch up on.

He finds Felix once again as they both make their respective ways out of the dance studio. Jisung doesn’t fail to notice that Felix absolutely did not come from the same direction that he did, and wonders if he went to talk to Minho in person about his plans for tonight. He decides to keep this thought to himself, and leaves Felix with the address of his dorm and a promise to buzz him in that evening.

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

Jisung reunites with Felix a few hours later, letting him and the bottle of vodka he brought with him into his dorm room. Pregaming with Jisung’s friends is fun until it absolutely isn’t as they all try to consume as much alcohol as possible before having to walk over to the actual party. However, Jisung realizes tonight is definitely going to be a lot more fun than normal when he sees the face Chan makes after Felix enters the dorm room. If only he had his phone on him, that would have made the perfect photo for an ugly birthday Instagram story.

“Seungminnie!” Felix shouts, snapping Jisung out of his thoughts, “Why didn’t you introduce me to Jisung earlier, that’s literally twin bro.”

“Well, ideally the two of you would never meet, making my life infinitely easier and quieter. How the fuck was I supposed to know that Jisung over here was going to take a dance class.” Seungmin responds with a hint of a smile in his voice that Jisung didn’t even think could be possible.

“‘I for one, am incredibly happy this happened. I’m Chan, I’ve heard a lot about you from my friends, though I don’t think we’ve had the opportunity to acquaint ourselves quite yet.” Chan says, extending a hand out to Felix with a blinding grin on his face.

Felix matches the handshake and smile, and Jisung immediately begins planning their wedding in his head. From what he can tell of the two, they definitely both love the sun, seeing as they're the humanized form of it. A summer wedding really would suit them, or maybe a winter wedding to contrast the warmth they give off. They’d also both look amazing in white, so a winter wedding it is. Jisung is promptly reminded that the rest of the group isn’t privy to the imaginary reception occurring in his head when he catches Felix looking at him expectantly. “Sorry, could you repeat that? I’m a little tired after our training session from earlier,” he says, hoping the group takes pity on him.

“Oh! Sorry Sungie, I was just asking how you and Chan met since you’re a few years apart and all that.”

Jisung knows exactly why Felix is asking this question, yet he holds his tongue with a reminder to have a more private conversation with the boy later about just what to do with the elder. He instead says, “We met in a music class last year. He took pity on my poor little malnourished first-year self, and he’s been my surrogate father ever since!”

Felix looks to Chan next, prompting a response out of him. “I mean yeah, that’s pretty much how it went, except the father part. I’m not that old Jisung.”

This statement elicits a giggle out of Felix, although it’s really not that funny. Seungmin seems to have picked up on it as well, albeit he isn’t as happy about it as Jisung is, interrupting with a, “Can we start drinking now? I know it’s common courtesy to be fashionably late to these things, but we’ll miss the whole thing at this rate.”

As they break into their drinks, shots for everyone with the exception of Jisung, who’s been nursing the same white claw for the past few minutes, they ask each other a few random questions to pass the time and break the ice with the newest member to their little group. Unfortunately for Jisung, it’s not long before Chan decides to ask something relevant, saying, “A little birdy told me you’re only going tonight so you can gather intel on a certain TA. And by little birdy, I mean a big buff birdy. It was Changbin. But is he seriously telling the truth?”

Jisung chooses to ignore Chan’s strange phrasing, chalking it up to being his first time drinking in a while, “Yep! I’m sick and tired of him hating me when all everyone else does is sing his praises. I need to know how to get on his good side.”

“I’m sure that’s exactly what you’ll be able to do tonight Sungie! Go get ‘em.” Felix exclaims, bursting into laughter alongside Seungmin while Chan gives the three of them a concerned look. Jisung gives a slight frown to this, not having signed up to take care of his clearly already inebriated friends.

Surely that’s why they’re laughing, right? Jisung doesn’t think he’s ever seen Seungmin laugh before tonight, and he’s also almost never seen him drunk, with the sole exception of one night in their first year he’s been sworn to secrecy over. “I bet by the end of tonight, I’ll know how to have Minho wrapped around all ten of my fingers!” Jisung exclaims, suddenly a lot more excited about otherwise mundane social endeavors.

Jisung needs to learn to stop making bets with himself he can’t win before he does something drastic.

When they finally find themselves outside of the frat house, Jisung wishes he wasn’t so much of a lightweight and was able to take a few shots of whatever Felix brought with him to pregame. Making his way into the house and past the obnoxious ‘bouncer’ who demanded to see their invites at least three times each while letting every girl who walked by in, he beelines to the kitchen, immediately sniffing out the free alcohol. Chan, being the ever-present voice of reason that he is, is understandably worried when Jisung approaches the poor frat guy stuck on drink duty and demands two shots of their strongest liquor for him and his friends. What fatherhood, and whatever he is to Felix after tonight, does to a man.

After a few more shots with Felix and Seungmin, Jisung grabs his designated vodka redbull he’ll carry around for the rest of the night to pretend he’s still drinking, and deems himself ready to brave the storm that is frat men and their horrific attempts at conversation. Speaking of, Jisung spots Changbin waving out of the corner of his eye as he slowly dislodges himself from his spot against Hyunjin on the couch. Jisung takes one more shot for good measure as Changbin walks over, not quite ready to follow up on their deal.

“Jisung!” he hears from across the room, “Thank god you’re finally here. I’ve got someone I want you to meet. He’s been pretty busy, but he agreed to take some time to talk to you.” Changbin says before stage-whispering, “Between you and me, I think he's just looking for something to distract him from his own petty drama.”

He watches Changbin wave somebody over from behind him, but as the figure makes its way over, Jisung’s heart quite literally drops out of his ass, “Minho! So good to see you bro, this is my friend Jisung I was telling you about. He needs a little help and I promised him I would–”

“Don’t worry Binnie, I can assure you we’ve already been acquainted,” Minho interjects, already spinning on his heel to make his way to the dance floor.

So much for helping.

It’s only then that Changbin seems to be able to put two and two together and finally realize what’s going on. “No way your bitchy dance TA is Minho dude! I’ve never seen the guy that pissed in his life.”

“That seems to be common with the people who know him. Meanwhile, I’ve never seen him that civilized, especially around me.”

“I don’t know what you did to hurt him so bad, but I really have never seen him like that before. I really would recommend apologizing. If not for him, then for the rest of us, you know all of those mutual friends you guys seem to have.”

“I’ll try my best, but you saw how he was earlier. I’ll be lucky to even be in his line of sight without him walking away in disgust,” Jisung finishes with, already walking away.

In an effort to escape Changbin’s pestering, Jisung proceeds to his designated spot against the wall across from the dance floor, letting his friend get lost in the crowd until he finds someone else to talk to. From this spot, he can see the entire room, and it really puts into perspective just how many people a frat can fit into a dingy house. Jisung scans the crowd, looking for someone to let pull him into the sea of students for a dance until he forgets about why he even came here in the first place. Unluckily for him, the only person he’s able to find is the one person he’s actively avoiding.

He spots Minho deep in the crowd of flailing college students, pressed up against who he can assume to be a friend given how close they are. Jisung feels the blood drain from his body as he’s forced to watch Minho’s little friend get even closer to ask him something, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of his neck on the way. He swears he hears a faint whisper of a song in the background over the ringing in his ears, something about smoke and jealousy to an upbeat tune. Total godawful white frat boy music if you ask Jisung; and no he’s not saying that because the lyrics are hitting just a bit too close to home right now, why would you say that?

He just hates that everyone clearly got some handbook thrown into their laps on how to get along with Lee Minho. With how popular he is, Jisung wouldn’t be surprised to find a university course on the topic, something stupid like LMH101. Maybe that’s the course he should’ve randomly signed up for last spring instead of his clusterfuck of a dance class.

Felix takes this opportunity to slide behind him, whispering, “You good bro?” and waving his hand in front of Jisung’s face in the hopes that it snaps him out of whatever Minho-induced trance he’s sucked into.

Maybe Minho’s just a vampire with weird mind-control powers. Jisung’s slightly less than sober mind decides this is a totally more legitimate and plausible thought than the idea that Minho might just be a good person who makes friends easily. Jisung then realizes it’s been a while since Felix tried to get his attention, and throws out a quick, “All good bro,” in his general direction.

“You sure, you’ve kinda just been staring out at the dance floor for a while,” Felix replies, taking a second to find exactly what Jisung is looking at with such intent and disdain, before adding, “Don’t worry about him, he’s being an absolute dick tonight. If you want to talk to him that bad though, I can go grab him for you.”

Jisung gives some thought to Felix’s offer before replying, “Thanks Lix, but I really don’t think that’s a good idea. I’ll just look like a pussy if I can’t even start a conversation with him on my own.”

“If you say so Sungie, I’m just worried about you two. You guys are such nice people on your own, and you basically share a friend group, so I really just don’t get why you don’t get along.”

“Don’t let yourself fret about it too much Lix, but have fun while you’re here. If you do want something to worry about, I would worry about the way Chan’s been looking at you like he wants to eat you since he saw you at my dorm.” Felix’s eyes sparkle at that, a smile growing on his face, and it makes Jisung proud. Even if he just met Felix this week, he would absolutely without question kill someone to keep that smile on his face.

Felix bids him goodbye and goodnight, assuming the best, and stalks off presumably to wherever Chan went off to when they all got here. Jisung takes a look back at the dance floor, noticing a distinct lack of Minho, and realizes this is his optimal chance to strike.

He looks for Seungmin, his ever-present voice of reason, for a shred of advice on how to get in a real conversation with Minho before the night ends. Unfortunately for him, he finds his roommate pressed against the wall by a boy he now recalls as the person who was standing next to Minho when Changbin tried to ‘introduce’ him to Jisung. Good for him, Jisung thinks. At least one of them is having fun tonight. He spots a figure out of the corner of his eye, throwing an exasperated look toward the pair, which Jisung could totally get behind. He’s glad his roommate is having fun, but they definitely should have taken this to a bedroom by now. As the figure rips the pair apart to do what Jisung can only assume is chastise them, send them home, or both, he realizes the figure is actually Minho, and his body reacts before his brain can catch up.

Jisung grabs Minho and drags him out the patio door into the empty backyard, save for a few loitering stoners, and promptly curses his tipsy brain for the lack of common sense. Despite everything, he’s never found himself alone with Minho and doesn’t quite know how to start the conversation. Minho stares at him for a few seconds in shock before trying to flee, and Jisung realizes he desperately needs to say something. He figures he can’t humiliate himself any further, and settles on a, “I didn’t know you knew my friends.”

“Wouldn’t have begged for their help so much then I assume? Wouldn’t have even become friends with them in the first place if you knew they associated themselves with someone arrogant and overreactive?” Minho has clearly had a lot more to drink than Jisung, speaking at a volume high enough for Jisung to flinch. “I sure hope you don't forget I heard you with Felix. I can’t help but feel relieved I missed part of it. Who knows what you said about me.”

“That’s not what I’m saying! If you would just listen to me instead of running away you’d know I didn’t even say that in the first place.” Jisung sighs before adding, “If you didn’t hear the full conversation, you have no right to be upset with me.”

“Why the fuck would I want to hear the full conversation? You were being an asshole about me being in a dance class, your dance class to be specific, and I don’t take kindly to people disrespecting my work.”

“See, this is why you should have been there! If you even bothered to ask Felix afterwards he would have told you it has nothing to do with dance. If anything, I’m grateful to have someone in there who actually knows what they’re doing.”

“I see,” Minho responds, letting up a bit, and Jisung thinks this might be enough to placate him, chalking this argument up to a bruised ego, but realizes he thought wrong when Minho decides to add, “I know, it’s about the girls, isn’t it? Honestly, I should have realized it from the beginning. The only reason guys enroll in dance classes to begin with is to pick up girls, and you’re mad I’m all they can focus on.”

Jisung doesn’t quite remember when or how the distance between them closed, Minho’s mocking smirk suddenly far too close for comfort. He can’t focus like this, with Minho looking like he wants to pick him apart bone by bone and put him back together again just for fun. He watches Minho’s face fall the slightest bit, only noticeable due to their proximity, presumably confused as to why he’s gone silent all of a sudden. Jisung steps back, finally able to breathe and slightly dizzy from what he hopes is the alcohol, before continuing the conversation.

“I don’t even like girls, are you fucking crazy?” he shouts in response, ignoring the eyes that found their way to the two after that comment, “I signed up for the class on accident for fucks sake.”

He watches Minho as his eyes flash with something indescribable just for a second before he's able to school his expression back into something a little more pleasant, saying, “Then why do you care what I think of you? Any normal person would turn around with their tail between their legs and run back to people that actually give a shit about them.”

“I want to know why you’re so against the idea of making amends. We have all the same friends anyways, it’s not like we’ll never see each other again.”

“Embarrassing yourself in front of me, and not to mention the entire rest of the class, should have been enough of a clue that it wouldn’t work. I’m truly not the one in the wrong here, and making amends only works when both parties want it”

“I just wanted to hear from you what pissed you off so bad. Maybe even an apology for jumping to conclusions, but I’m not even asking for that much anymore.”

“I still don’t think I’m the one who should be apologizing here. You talked about me behind my back, quite horribly mind you, and wonder why I won’t talk to you.”

“Fine, if an apology is what it takes to get an answer out of you, I’ll give you one. I still don’t know what I did to make you so upset, but at least I’m trying here. You were right, I shouldn’t have gone behind your back, it made me look like an absolute dick and it made you upset. I really am sorry.”

“Look I’m happy to hear that from you, but I have things to do. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find Changbin and let him know I’m leaving for tonight.”

Jisung stops him before he gets the chance to slip away again, “You know, most people apologize when they’ve done something wrong, right? Relationships are a two-way street and we’ll never get anywhere if I’m apologizing on both of our behalf.”

The look Jisung gives after would have caused any lesser man to crumble. He knows how to use his features to get what he wants, round eyes shining with the illusion of unshed tears paired with a soft pout. The true epitome of pity. Unfortunately for him, it feels like this has the exact opposite effect on Minho, up until the moment he finally breaks.

“I guess, ugh, I guess I could have responded better.” Minho relents, clearly not used to being the one in the wrong, “It wasn’t right of me to treat you like that, especially in a class setting. I’ll be better about it, promise.”

Jisung beams, and hopes that the faint smile that’s made its way onto Minho's face isn’t just him seeing things as a result of a secondhand high he’s gotten from being out here for so long.

“I’m glad to hear it. Truce?”

“Truce.”

Unfortunately for Jisung, this will be the last thing he remembers of that night.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.145 Escape plan

After fixing the sink and mopping the puddle pooling at my feet, I went outside to tend to the money tree and clean up after the dogs. Sometimes they did their business in the yard, but most times they did it on the porch, and I kinda hated it. But what do you do, right? At least they went outside. I kept yawning on my way back inside. It wasn't even 9 p.m. yet, and I heard my bed calling. I couldn't turn in that early, but I was so ready to close my eyes. Desiree was such a good baby and slept most of the night, so I didn't think I was sleep deprived, but maybe I needed to rest, just like Sophia. But she did all of the work, so what reason did I have to be so tired? They say things change when we get older, but surely my body hadn't changed so drastically mere days after my birthday. I shook all of those thoughts away when I saw Chi Chi climbing the steps to knock on our door.

"You're not one of those entrepreneurs trying to sell us something, are you?" I asked.

"Ha ha ha! You're so funny! What are you doing out here?"

"I kinda live here."

"Okay, funny man!"

"Come on in. I was about to have dinner."

She joined me at the table and caught me up on her life. She was like a vampire taking off in bat form, telling me about this date she went on in record speed. Apparently it was a proper date date, which led me to assume they'd been talking for a little while. They had a good time, and she looked forward to seeing him again. But with Eleanor gone, and Karmine grown and talking about moving out, she'd been kind of lonely lately and thought it was time to consider her own future. It had always been her plan to remarry, but was he the guy? Was it too early to think about it? Clearly, the situation made her very anxious, and I identified with that big time. But she was a strong, confident, gorgeous woman, so I was certain she'd have it all figured out soon. In the meantime, I was happy for her and hoped their one date would blossom into something totally unexpected and beautiful.

I didn't make a habit of looking back and wondering how my life would have turned out if I chose another woman, but every now and then, the thought ran across my mind. Whenever I thought about a potential life with Chi Chi, I always ended up being glad we were never anything more than friends. Apart from not knowing how I'd fare with a ready-made family, I don't know how I would survive her mouth. I could imagine myself spending a lot of time away from home just to escape all the talking.

Sophia finally came downstairs and saved me from all the words flying at me at a million miles per hour. I bet she was hiding from Chi Chi under the guise of tending to Desiree, heh.

"Oh my goodness, hiiiiiiiii," Chi Chi said, jumping up and pouncing on her. "You look sooo good! You don't even look like you had a baby!"

"Uhh...thanks."

"Is she asleep? Can I see her??"

"Of course," Sophia said. "Come on up."

I followed them and stared longingly at our bedroom door as I trudged by. Would it be rude if I left them alone and disappeared? After all, Chi Chi came to see Desiree, not me. But she was my friend, not Sophia's, even though they had developed a friendship. Sophia wouldn't appreciate me doing that, so I joined them in the nursery where Chi Chi squealed and oooh'd and ahhhh'd over Desi's cuteness and how adorable the nursery was.

Ever since Desi met Maira, I paid attention to how she acted around new sims, and so far she'd only ever acted up with Maira, and that bothered me so much. What was it?? Part of me hoped to never find out and that everything would be peachy when she got older. But the part of me who was very much my mother's child wanted tea.

[vickyvicarious]

Something I noticed is that Dracula has now resorted to killing his aides when he can to cover up his tracks and make it look like a human did it, he didn't use to do that, so Jonathan kept interviewing them

I suppose it depends to an extent on who you consider Dracula's aides. Because we see him deliberately turn on people who have unintentionally aided him (the Demeter crew), who have been forced to aid him (Jonathan), and who have aided him but then turned on him (Renfield). Jonathan's the only one who gets out alive from that, and it's largely due to Dracula's personal like for him/schedule constraints.

But even if we limit the category to people he has hired to do a job for him and who know who he is, I still think he has done that previously. Or rather, he had plans to do that, or at the very least was prepared to do so as needed. It just depends on what his main goal is at the time. I feel like I've talked about this earlier this year, but I can't find it right now, so let me just restate.

On looking at it I found in certain places little rings marked, and on examining these I noticed that one was near London on the east side, manifestly where his new estate was situated; the other two were Exeter, and Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.

On May 7, Jonathan notices several key locations marked off on Dracula's map. His arrival to Whitby is marked off, as is his first estate in London. But so is Exeter, where both Jonathan and Hawkins live. Unlike the other circled spots, Dracula never goes to Exeter. So why circle it?

One explanation which at least partially explains this: I think he deliberately chose a lawyer who wasn't based in London, in order to minimize the chances that local people would notice said lawyer going missing and connect it to the latest client arriving in town. Because it is very evident that he always intended to kill Jonathan. The man was not meant to leave the Castle, one way or another. Dracula had his whole letter scheme to disguise that fact and to separate Jonathan's disappearance from the time spent with Dracula (the cover story was obviously 'something happened while traveling home'). But if that failed and Hawkins seemed likely to raise any kind of stink, I think Dracula would have happily gone and killed him. But the man didn't contact him again about Jonathan so he didn't have to bother with that.

Similarly, Dracula doesn't kill any of the people who moved his boxes. But the thing is, that would have drawn way more attention. He didn't know that Jonathan was following his paper trail and interviewing them all, and killing a bunch of people all of whom worked for him would have been way more suspicious than just leaving them alone and hoping no one found out. So that's what he did! Not killing these people was the smarter move as far as he could see, the best way to hide his tracks. No need to have murders associated with him in England; he wants to be an unnoticed predator and to leave behind the place where everyone is onto him. Even if people still think he's human, getting associated with murders isn't a look he wants.

He's thinking long-term when he arrives in London. And he may well still have the idea of coming back and killing people later, when they're no longer so associated with working for him, but certainly in the moment it doesn't make sense to do so. Similarly, it didn't help him when leaving Transylvania. The people who work for him there are either scared enough or willing enough to do what he says, so why deprive himself of this resource in case he needs it in future? There are plenty of others to hunt instead, and no one he needs to hide his tracks from. The Demeter served a function too - first, he wanted a ghost ship so he could get ashore more easily. Second, he probably wanted to tank up before arriving in England so that he could fully use all his powers both to manipulate the weather for the crash and to shift to wolf form to get ashore. Once he's starting killing some of them, better to kill all of them so no one can tell the tale. Also, I bet he wanted to let loose and in the middle of the ocean was a good place to do so without causing any harm to his future plans.

This time around is different. He knows he's being hunted, so he's not worried about drawing attention. It's already on him regardless. All he cares about is hiding the exact information of where he's gone in order to slow them down, and the surest and most convenient way to do that is by killing the man who arranged it for him. So he does.

He is resorting to it, but not necessarily because he's finally driven to it when he normally wouldn't do that, so much as because the situation now makes it a more reasonable choice for him. I think it would have been just as much an option on the table the entire time for him.

[dia-souls]

TW: ⚠️ NSFW, Blood Mentioned, Yandere Themes, Toxic Relationships, Death, Whipping, Spanking, Sexual Themes ⚠️

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

Ruki Mukami x Yui Komori

The beginning of Ruki and Yui's relationship was terrible. Ruki couldn't trust Yui because of the trauma that accompanied him since childhood and expressed his anger by torturing Yui.

But slowly, without realizing it, he became attached to Yui, so that he thought of her every moment, even when he was sleeping.

Ruki couldn't understand why he felt this way because he didn't believe in love.

His relationship with Yui gradually improved and he learned to express his love to Yui.

But his love for Yui grew so much that he didn't realize that his feelings had turned into possessiveness.

Ruki's sense of ownership towards Yui grew more and more every day.

So that every day Ruki set strict rules for Yui and if Yui did not follow them, he would punish her.

Yui had noticed Ruki's change and it scared her.

She didn't like seeing Ruki so scared. She loved her kind Ruki who called her my beautiful angel every day.

Ruki's sense of ownership was so high that he completely ignored Yui and didn't even care that she had feelings.

He wants all of Yui for himself. No one has the right to approach Yui.

Ruki's sense of ownership becomes so terrifying that Ruki kills anyone who comes close to Yui without hesitation.

He punishes Yui for very small reasons and imprisons Yui in a dungeon in order to have Yui for himself.

Yui is deprived of seeing the sunlight and her kind Ruki.

She is now imprisoned in the cage of a real snake, which every moment wraps around the cage and makes his prison narrower and narrower.

Yui's body hurts from the marks of whips and wounds that Ruki made as a punishment.

She can no longer cry or speak. Her whole heart is filled with sadness and she doesn't feel anything anymore.

After a long time of leaving Yui in the dungeon without food or water to punish her, Ruki finally enters the dungeon.

Ruki looks down at Yui's injured and hanging body with a smirk that admires Yui's pitiful state.

He approaches Yui with slow steps and an evil look.

"It's really pathetic, you are so weak."

Yui has not spoken for a long time. She has lost everything and doesn't even have a reason to talk.

This situation worries Ruki, but he tries not to show his concern.

"Not speaking will not make me pity you. I have to teach your body to whom it belongs."

Ruki unties the chains and hugs Yui's injured and exhausted body and gently places her lips on Yui's tear-filled cheek and kisses her.

"I think it is enough. You were a good girl and I will reward you."

Ruki gently kisses Yui's sore spots to soothe her.

But Yui doesn't even respond to Ruki's kindness. Because she knows that this kindness is temporary and she will be punished for another small reason.

Yui's silence annoys Ruki, but Ruki broke Yui long ago without realizing it.

Ruki hugs Yui and takes her out of the dungeon, cleaning her body and treating her wounds.

Yui longed to see the former Ruki again.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

Kou Mukami x Yui Komori

Kou is a handsome and beautiful boy to his fangirls, but no one knows the hidden personality behind his kind mask.

Kou tries to attract Yui with a kind face, but when that doesn't work, he shows his scary side.

Yui was the only girl who wasn't Kou's fan and this bothered Kou more than anything.

He couldn't win Yui's attention with valuable gifts like flowers and money, which made him violent.

But Kou's yandere side is activated when Kou is really attached to Yui and his love becomes possessive.

Kou tries to psychologically manipulate Yui so that Yui will be traumatized and never be able to live without Kou.

It was the only way Kou could have Yui for himself.

Although Kou knew that Yui was a cute and beautiful girl, Kou kept calling Yui ugly to lower her self-confidence.

Whenever a boy approached Yui at school, Kou would beat him severely and punish Yui and call her ugly all the time so that Yui would despair of going out with another boy.

Kou doesn't know why Yui is avoiding him so much. All the girls in the school wish to be with Kou for just a moment, but Yui is not like them.

Kou does everything he can to destroy Yui's sanity so he can have her forever.

Kou's love turns into the most terrible relationship in the world.

Whenever Kou kisses Yui, Yui remembers her sweet memories. Memories that she will never experience again.

The lovely Kou has been destroyed and he has now become an eternal tow faced.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

Yuma Mukami x Yui Komori

Yuma is not always the lovable farmer boy. He is tall and strong and no one should make him angry.

Yuma's fear has always been losing those who are dear to him since childhood.

If Yuma falls in love with someone, he does not want to lose that person in any way and will do everything to make that person his own.

Yuma's relationship with Yui made a lot of progress. Yuma realized that Yui was more than food to him.

Yuma loved Yui from the bottom of his heart and wanted to take care of her forever.

Losing Yui had become a nightmare for Yuma.

Every day, he had a nightmare that someone stole Yui from him, and this made his feelings increase every day, and this feeling became a sense of ownership.

Yuma didn't realize how hard he was being on Yui. He just wanted Yui for himself.

Yuma could never stand Yui being with someone else.

If the boys approach Yui at school, Yuma will beat them without hesitation and may even kill many of them.

One day when a boy tried to express his love to Yui, Yuma got very angry and beat the boy to death and went to the hospital.

Even though Yui had said no to that boy, Yuma decided to punish Yui.

He sucked Yui's blood in a very painful way, causing Yui to pass out.

When Yui woke up, she realized that she was naked and her hands and feet were tied with ropes.

Yuma sits next to her and looks at her with a scary smile.

"This is what you wanted from the beginning. Isn’t it? That's why you made me angry."

Yui started crying with an innocent face, not knowing why Yuma was doing this.

"Yuma-kun stop please."

Yuma undressed without further ado and attacked Yui.

He was kissing Yui's body like crazy, marking her whole body full with his kiss marks.

"Shut up you are mine. Today I will fill your whole body with my marks."

Without preparing Yui, Yuma took off his underwear and thrust his length into Yui in one quick motion, and Yui screamed in pain.

Yuma was moving at the speed of light and Yui's body was moving up and down and the bed was creaking.

After the first round, Yuma pulled his length out of Yui and spanked Yui's hips hard as Yui panted.

"You should not pass out now. You have to carry my baby in your belly."

Yui's eyes widened in fear and she began to beg.

"Yuma please no. Please don't do this. I am not ready to be a mother."

Ignoring Yui's pleas and cries, Yuma thrust his length back into Yui and started moving again as fast as he could.

After a few rounds, Yui's tired and sweaty body falls under Yuma, but Yuma doesn't give up that easily.

If Yui become a mother, no one can take Yui away from him.

This was the start of a terrible night for Yui.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

Azusa Mukami x Yui Komori

Azusa's grief is painful. Emotional pain is more unbearable for him than physical pain. If Azusa loses something, he hurts himself to forget his emotional pain.

Azusa was attracted to Yui from the first day he saw her.

Azusa loves Yui more than anyone else. He loves Yui so much that his love for Yui becomes the reason for his life.

But Azusa knows he doesn't deserve Yui and can't become Adam.

The fact that he can't have Yui hurts him a lot.

He walks in the garden at night and remembers his beloved Eve when he sees roses. A person that doesn't belong to him and he can't stay by her side forever.

He takes his knife and stabs himself many times.

Until one day he wakes up to find Yui sleeping next to him and his wounds covered with bandages.

That's right, if the wound makes Yui stay by her side, then Azusa will wound her dear lover.

He keeps Yui in his room forever and won't let her get away from him.

As the days pass, Yui's body is filled with many wounds that Azusa gave her as a gift to express her love.

Azusa enters her room to get Yui some food and finds Yui watching out the window. She seems to be looking for freedom.

"Look, Eve. I brought you food."

Azusa approaches Yui and hugs her from behind.

"You are my Eve. Forever mine I will not let anyone take you from me."

Yui didn't know what changed Azusa so much, but she hoped to see the old Azusa again.

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

Sakamaki version

T brothers + Kino

🌹 _____________________________________ 🌹

[fornshinoyaz]

HOW TO: LOSE FEELINGS FOR AN IDIOT

02. HOW TO: NOT GET HIT BY A VOLLEYBALL

series masterlist | previous | next chapter

wc: 4.9 nearly 5k omg

how to lose feelings for a CERTIFIED, government approved idiot. it should be easy right? wrong. you are absolutely, positively, done for. you have no idea why you’re writing the guide book when you can’t even get past the first step! first step, the only important step really: don’t have your best friend be kei tsukishima. then maybe, just maybe, you’d have a chance.

You had a problem. That was unusual. You were usually the one fixing everyone elses shit. That wasn't the case now. Tsukki, this time, decided he was going to fix it.

“Is Y/N here?”

He appears before Kimura Hikari like a ghost. Her grip tightens around the large stack of books she's carrying. She nearly drops every single one of them in her spook.

Hikari stumbles backward, her voice trembling. “Oh! Hi! Uhm, K-Kei, right? Y/N’s friend?”

Tsukishima’s cold eyes sweep down to your struggling friend, “Mhm. Kimura? Y/N’s here, isn’t she?”

From the way you described him, Hikari would’ve expected him to be like a bundle of flowers, but he’s more like a bundle of rocks. Dead, serious, and with not a single care for anyone. His deep frown made shivers run down her spine. His gaze shifts from Hikari to the series of study rooms behind her. He’s sure you have to be in one of those, and if you aren’t, he’s going to have a few words with you. Not only would you have wasted his time (more than you already have), but you would’ve lied to him about putting in the work to pass your exams. He’s not sure which one would piss him off more.

Hikari fidgets nervously, struggling to balance the books as she points to one of the rooms. “Right in that one! #15!”

Tsukishima’s face flashes with annoyance. Really? You had to pick the farthest room? His body is still a little sore from conditioning yesterday. He gives Hikari a small nod of thanks. He isn’t rude, at least not to people he’s just met.

Yamaguchi once told him he’d changed a lot since high school, in more ways than one. Tsukishima figures your influence would’ve gotten to him one day.

Hikari fidgets herself away, mumbling about how he wasn’t what she was expecting. Tsukishima hums, so you talked about him.

You’re neck-deep in your notes when the door to your study room slams open. You know it can’t be Hikari being that rude. She’s sweet and gentle, always whispering for your attention before even blurting out a curse. But Tsukishima? He’s known you too long to bother with the polite stuff.

He kneels against the doorway, his hand open, and before you even realize, he hurls your light blue lunchbox straight at your head. You let out a pained shriek, clutching your aching head, and he responds with an annoying laugh.

Glaring up at him, you rub your temples. “Thanks, dickface.” 

Tsukishima rolls his eyes at you and lets out a theatrical sigh, pretending to be affected by you, but the glint in eyes betrays his facade—he’s loving this. What an ass.

“I told you to stop leaving your things in my apartment. Especially ugly things.” He replies, taking a step forward into the quiet room. You spent a lot of your time here, relentlessly preparing for your future. It wasn’t something you were the most fond of—the constant studying, the nonstop day to day grind. You preferred being with your friends or taking pictures in the city, to being bogged down in your books. His interruption only made this more unbearable. You were not gonna be able to focus.

Sunlight filtered through the large glass panes, showcasing your friendly chaos of textbooks, study materials, and stationary tools. The usually neat desks are thrown across the room, in favor of your own sleep-deprived design. Hikari’s bright purple book bag leaned against one of the desks. Her side of the room was much neater, with organized tools and textbooks sitting in a circle. Though you both have different approaches, it didn’t matter much, as both of you equally compete for the spot of top student at Karasuno University.

“And I told you to stop showing up where I am unannounced. You almost gave me a heart attack!” You chide. If there was one thing Tsukishima knew how to do, it was interrupt your day. He knew you would stop everything when he came, and it drove you mad.

“Good.” Tsukishima snorts, making you frown. He takes several steps towards you. He's way too tall, it makes you want to cut his legs off with a pair of scissors. He squints down at the sheet of paper in front of you. You instinctively cover your work, already knowing how he gets. But it’s already too late. He’s seen everything he needs to see. Your nose scrunches up as the next words fall out his lips.

“You’re gonna fail the exam. Your notes are wrong.” Tsukishima says, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

You’re not taken aback by his bluntness; you’ve known him for too long for that. But you are taken aback by the fact that he thinks it’s wrong?! You’ve been working tirelessly for five whole hours! This man, stupid blonde man, can just walk in here, take a split look, and decide the whole thing is wrong?! 

Your eyebrows furrow and your grip tightens on the sheet of paper. “What do you mean it’s wrong?” You rumble, shooting up from the desk.

Tsukishima takes this as his sign to be even more of a dickhead. He turns around and slams the door of your study room behind him, without a single word. You hated him sometimes. Most of the time actually.

Inside the room, you let out an annoyed huff, and while outside, Tsukishima shakes his head. You’re always so forgetful and stupid. While he’s going to graduate on time, you’ll be a whole semester late if you keep this up! All because you never pay attention to him when he dumbs-down very simple problems. 

On the other hand, you hate how Tsukishima always has to have the last word, and worse, that he’s always right! It was like his own super-power. It’s infuriating. You hate it. 

You wind the door open so fast and strong, your fingers nearly fly off, and the door makes a loud bang as it hits the other side of the wall. Tsukki narrows his eyes on the new dent you surely left, then on your hot-and-bothered face. 

“Y/N, are you mad?” he asks. Whatever smart remark he was going to make is overturned by a smirk.

Tsukki has a way of triggering the worst out of you, especially in moments like this. It was the condescension that dripped in his voice. Sometimes, it feels like he reserves the worst treatment for you. But, you know what? It’s mutual, because he’s infuriatingly always right. I mean screaming in a library, how low could you get?

“YES! I’M MAD! FIRST YOU CALL MY LUNCHBOX UGLY, WHICH I SPENT A LOT OF MONEY ON BY THE WAY! AND THEN YOU CALL ME STUPID AND YOU DONT EVEN OFFER TO HELP!”

Tsukishima winces at the sheer volume of your voice. The entire library seems to look up at you both, and the librarian’s frown deepens. She looks like she’s ten seconds from coming over and whacking you both with every single edition of War and Peace. 

“You’re screaming. in a library. Y/N. Do you want to get kicked out?” He asks with a hushed tone.

You glance around, offering sheepish apologies to the annoyed students trying to not fail their exams. But it doesn’t matter, because it’s not your fault!

“Come here!” You spit out. Tsukki groans fills the room as you launch him back inside the room and shut the door (softly) right after you. 

Now he’s leaned against the table you’re working at, staring at you in disinterest as you explain how you're correct and he’s just wrong. Hikari waltzes back into the room and opens her mouth to say something, but stops in her tracks when she sees you both. He doesn’t spare her a second glance, and really neither do you. You’re both preoccupied. 

And this is how you two were. It was why you were forced out of the manager position of the Boys Volleyball Club when you were in high school. Tsukki could never focus up with you there. Neither of you could stand not having the last word.

“When I tell you why you’re wrong, I want you to get on your knees and apologize for being difficult and wasting my time,” Tsukishima says with a huff.

You scoff, disbelief coloring your tone. “Excuse me?” you ask as he walks over to your side of the table.

“You heard me,” he replies. You almost bite out a response, but fuck—your breath catches in your throat. You swear, he does this on purpose. 

Tsukishima hunches over you, his fingers meticulously correcting your mistakes. He’s not doing anything wrong, nothing out of the ordinary for you two. But this time it feels different.

Your heart pounds in your ears. It’s too loud. His proximity is unnerving. You can feel the warmth of his body, scalding and burning, as if colliding with your own. It’s hard to concentrate with him so close. His leans into your neck. Your breath hitches. His hands trap you.

Your eyes linger on his forearms, and you can’t help but notice how much he’s grown since high school. He’s stronger, taller, all muscle. Before, a twig could’ve beat him at an arm wrestling match. 

You try to focus on anything else. But he makes it so damn difficult. His scent is everywhere you turn - woody and fresh like he just came out of a shower. He’s intoxicating. 

For a moment, neither of you knows how to break the silence. You yell at yourself to stop, to not give in.

But you’ve never been one to hold back.

You steal a quick glance at him, taken away by how pretty he looks in the soft light. There’s something about this moment that makes you want to freeze time and stay in it forever. To just forget about the world around you.

The gentle hum of the room and Tsukishima’s soft clearing of his throat finally pulls you back.

“Focus,” he reprimands, his voice breaking the spell.

You give him an annoyed side-eye, trying desperately to hide the way he affects you. He slaps down your pencil, just to be even more annoying, and leans backward, that familiar smirk on his lips. 

“Now look,” he continues, “I was right, you were wrong. Save us both the time and admit it now.”

“I’m not admitting anything,” you grumble. He really was right. You had completely forgotten a step, messing up the whole problem. You groan in frustration, but that only seems to amuse him further. Your pain is melody to his ears.

“Admit it,” he says again, stronger this time. 

You glare up at him, the weight of defeat settling in. This sucks. His smirk is infuriating, yet somehow you love it at the same time. 

“Eat shit,” you say, lacking any real conviction.

Tsukki knows he’s won, even if you don’t say anything, and that’s enough to satisfy him. He gives you a small wave, and you roll your eyes, but can’t help but wave goodbye as the door to the study room clicks shut behind him. 

Hikari’s high pitched voice reminds you that she was there all along.

“Woah?! What was that?!” She asks.

“What was what? Spit it out, Hikari.”

“That tension was crazy! Are you serious?” Hikari laughs, as if she can hardly believe it. 

You sigh, waving off her comments. “Stop. Let’s just focus on this, okay?”

“Okay, okay, focusing,” Hikari nods, going back into her books. You think for a moment, she had truly dropped the subject. 

For five minutes, you're left with peace and quiet. But it’s not in Hikari’s nature to resist asking about a million questions.

“Okay, but did he come all the way here just to drop off your lunchbox?”

“Hikari..?”

“Sorry! Last question!” she squeaks, “but seriously, did he?”

You looked down at the item that been thrown at your FACE and shake your head. You tell Hikari, “It’s nothing, he just doesn’t like clutter,” and you know she’ll believe it. 

Step two, of how to: 'lose feelings for a certified, government approved idiot', is DENY DENY DENY. And it'll work. For the first few times.

After all, Hikari didn’t know him like you did. It’s true; he hates clutter and loves organization. He can’t stand a dirty house. But it didn’t make sense for him to spend his own precious time just to return your lunchbox. If it were anyone else, Tsukki would’ve probably thrown it out or eaten whatever was inside and called it a day. 

But for you, he went out of his way. Why?

Because he hated seeing you go without meals. He’ll waste his own precious time, something he didn’t have much of, just to make sure you could eat. It was love packaged in his own Tsukki way. 

At some point, you were gonna have to stop denying your feelings for him.

But that wouldn’t be any time soon. 

As the only girl in a group full of guys, it got hard sometimes, especially when it came to introducing your friends to Hikari. 

Kageyama, of course, was surprised, and asked in the most serious voice, “You have other friends?" It made you want to kill him. Nishinoya and Tanaka couldn’t help but flirt with her, acting like they had never spoken to a girl in their lives. But the most annoying part was how nice Tsukishima was to Hikari. It pissed you off more than you’d like to admit.

With your exams done, the yearly volleyball tournament was slowly approaching. The pressure was on, and class rankings were released. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated when you saw your name at the #2 spot. Guess who claimed the top spot? Yeah, no need for an explanation. Of course, it was him—unbelievable as always.

The whole university was decorated with banners flying as you arrived on campus with Hikari. Tons of faces you’d never seen before filled the gym, taking up space in the visitor’s section.

Hikari’s eyes sparkles like stars. 

She excitedly looks from stand to stand, “Wow! I’ve never been to a volleyball game before! Where’s Karasuno?”

You chuckle, finding her reaction adorable. “You’re gonna love it. They’ll be out soon. They take forever to get dressed.” Forever was an understatement. There were several instances where Hinata went missing (taking a shit) and no one could figure out where he was. 

Just as you say that, the doors to the boys’ locker room opened. The gym filled with cheers as they came out. Some girls drop dead at the sight of them. They were good-looking volleyball players, you give them that. But if only they knew how many of them were huge dorks. Hinata is full of power and energy. He is the first to set his hands on the ball. Kageyama set it to him, per usual, and they freak out the whole gym. Hikari’s jaw drops in amazement.

You chuckle and close her mouth for her, “They call it the Freak Quick Attack.”

“It’s definitely freaky! How is Kageyama so good?” Hikari asks.

You shake your head, “He’s a monster. All of them are crazy talented. Even blondie,” your eyes set on him. His usual stoic look lays on his face as they went through their drills. You could hear whispers from the visitor section about him, ‘does he even wanna be here?’ and others that ask, ‘why is he so tense?’ It’s laughable. 

“Are you sure he likes volleyball?” Even Hikari questions as she watches him run (barely) around the court. 

You snort, “That kid? Yeah. No doubt in my head. There was a time he didn’t, but now, he’s hooked for life.”

Your eyes glance to the shot-clock. The boys were finishing their drills. There was no better time than now. You tell Hikari you would be right back and then leave the stands, walking down their side of the court. The older boys - Daichi, Suga, and Asahi give you friendly smiles, your presence as always strengthening them on the court. Kageyama and Hinata are wrapped up in their own world, preparing for the game. 

Tsukishima is off on the side with Yamaguchi. He glances your way as you approach, raising an eyebrow at your interruption. You ignore his annoyed expression and greet Yamaguchi with a soft smile.

“Hey Yams, good serves today?” You say.

Yamaguchi sets down his water bottle and smiles brightly, “Only the best!”

“They always are,” Tsukishima says with a small nod of acknowledgment to his other best friend, and then his eyes settle on you, “you brought Hikari?” he asks.

You ignore the slight pang in your chest. It’s nothing. Hikari is your friend, and so is Tsukishima. Why should you care that he’s asking about her? You should be happy that he likes your friend. You try to push it out of your mind, but Yamaguchi’s knowing expression serves as a painful reminder that you do care—and it sucks.

Yamaguchi knew everything. He knew from the moment you went to him freaking out about your feelings, and how they weren’t going away. It had been years since that conversation, and nothing had changed.

“Yeah, uh,” you clear your throat uncomfortably, “she’s never seen you guys play. Thought I’d invite her.”

Tsukishima hums, but that seems to be where his interest in her ends. 

“I hope Hikari enjoys it! I’ll make sure to do hit double the serves for her!” Yamaguchi says, drilling innocence and light back into the conversation and lifting your mood.

You smile. He always knew how to make you feel better. “I’ll tell her the game plan. Fight well guys I-“

You don’t get to privilege of finishing you sentence because a volleyball comes throttling straight at your face. Huh. For a problem-solver, you often ended up on the wrong side of many problems. Yamaguchi shrieks as the ball takes you out like a bowling pin. You go flailing to the floor. Ow.

Yamaguchi rushes over, eyes full of concern. “Y/N!! Woah!! Are you hurt?”

You manage to give him a thumbs-up, even though your nose feels like it's about to fall off. “Yup! All good! Totally did not get hit by a ball going at 500mph...”

Tsukishima, who witnessed the whole thing, seems more amused than concerned. “You alright down there?” he asks, failing to stifle his laughter. 

You groan, wincing as you touch your sore nose, “Tsukishima..please..?”

“Okay, okay,” he says and reaches for you. You gasp as he lifts you up and back onto your feet. You land closer to him than you would like and your face flushes (from your recent accident, of course haha nothing else).

He looks over you for any injuries. “Are you good?”

“Y-Yeah,” you want to cringe at your own stutter, “completely fine.”

Tsukki didn't miss the tremble in your voice. “You sure?”

“Mhm,” you hold each other’s gaze for a second longer than necessary. Yeah, no. You quickly avert your eyes from his and back to the crowd where Hikari is waiting. It’s like he already knows what you’re thinking and nods. It was a freaky thing you guys did from time to time. It was just like you guys shared each others braincells. As you head back up to your seat, worry etches on Hikari’s face.

“That looked nasty, Y/N! Are you okay?” she asks.

You assure her that it was just a minor accident, and you both focus on cheering for your team. The excitement of the game quickly takes over, and you forget about your experience as a professional bowling pin. The match is intense—as usual, Karasuno gives it their all. You expect no less from your friends. Tsukki finds himself in his own little rivalry with another blocker. You can’t help but laugh when Tsukki gets the upper hand and completely dominates. This was the man who they said ‘hated’ volleyball? 

In the end, Karasuno wins, taking the whole game by the second set. The gym erupts in applause. The visitors side sighs, sad over their reign being cut so short. Among the boisterous crowd, you swear you’re the loudest, and the way Kageyama and Nishinoya laugh at you only confirms it.

As the team comes over to the stands to greet and thank their supporters, you notice Tsukishima’s eyes searching across the crowd. You wonder for a moment, who is he looking for? 

But then, it hits you. 

Oh. 

Your eyes meet. 

He was looking for you. 

With a rush of excitement, you cheer even louder. “Yeah, Tsukki!”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, and he gives you a subtle nod, a gesture meant only for you.

After the game, you all come to together to discuss the following moves after. Of course, your friends are beyond starving (nothing new). Hikari is still buzzing with energy and excitement as you guys move from the gym to a nearby BBQ restaurant. Her first volleyball experience was a good one. Not only had she seen a good game, but now, she was the main attention of several of the players. Nishinoya and Tanaka are annoying as usual, but Tsukishima also seems to be entertaining this? Your eyebrows furrow when he says more than ten words to her.

As the night continues, a pit keeps growing more and more in your stomach.

Hikari’s laughter fills the air the restaurant, you absentmindedly chew on a piece of lettuce before switching to some meat. The rest of the boys are chatty too, but it feels like Tsukki and Hikari’s conversation is ten times louder. They talked the entire way to the restaurant, and she even chose to sit next to him. What were they discussing you ask? Dinosaurs and geology. You almost forgot that was Hikari’s major—she adores subjects like that. 

You, on the other hand, did not. You’ve always been drawn to the arts—singing, dancing, writing, and especially photography. You could never have these conversations with Tsukki. Not in the meaningful way that Hikari could.

Throughout the night, you catch Tsukishima glancing at you more than once. It’s as if he’s silently observing and noting your behavior. That’s just his way—he wouldn’t say anything in front of others, but he seems to sense that something is off. When you only manage to muster half a smile at one of Hikari’s joke, he's convinced.

By the time the night winds down, you all part ways, some opting for taxis while others head out to tame the night. As for Hikari? She had a bit too much to drink. 

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Hikari drunkenly slurs, hung over your shoulder as you try to usher her into a taxi.

“I love you too, please get home safe,” you say. On the other side of you, Asahi, follows after her in the taxi. You thank him for being willing to make sure she got home. 

As you reach for your phone to call a taxi for yourself, Tsukki unexpectedly takes it from your hand. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Tsukki..?” 

“Do you want ice cream?” he asks, surprisingly casual.

His offer catches you off guard. Your eyebrows furrow even further, “We just spent like $400 in there…”

“I’ll pay,” Tsukki replies, nonchalantly. 

“Okay…” you agree, still unsure about the whole situation. As you walk, there’s an unnamed tension between you two. It's unnatural. You find yourself wondering about the ice cream parlor—what kind of place is open at 10 p.m.? Nevertheless, Tsukki’s confidence makes you trust him. And sure enough, the ice cream parlor is open (at 10pm?) with it’s door wide open for customers.

The parlor is cozy, definitely a hidden gem in the large city, dressed with old photos and vintage art pieces, creating a charm that made you wish you had your camera on you.

The elderly woman at the front greets you both with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with kindness. “What can I get you both?” she asks sweetly, her face full of surprise. It wasn’t often someone stopped into a shop for ice cream at 10 p.m., nonetheless her shop. 

“Two vanilla cups, please,” Tsukki pulls out a large bill from his wallet, “keep the change.”

Your mouth waters at the sight of it. Ice cream never got old to you. The woman expertly scoops the creamy vanilla into cups and drizzles a rich caramel sauce on top. You find a cozy corner to sit at.

With each spoonful, you fill with happiness. You can’t help but let out a contented sigh. This was what you needed. Tsukki seems to know that.

“Is this how you bribe me? Through ice cream?” you ask him, as you lick a tiny bit vanilla off your lips.

A chuckle falls off his lips, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a small smile, “It’s working, isn’t it? I might end up stealing your job, Y/N.”

“My job?” You ask through a confused laugh.

“Problem solver extraordinaire? I fixed whatever this…” he points to the distance between the both of you, “was.”

You silently take another spoonful. The power of vanilla.

As the evening further sets in, the ease of being around him washes over you, and for a moment, it feels like nothing has changed between you. But deep down, you know that’s not entirely true.

When you both finish your ice cream, you say goodnight to the elderly store owner, her smile widening with knowingness. “You two are a beautiful couple. I hope you enjoyed.”

Tsukishima rubs the back of his neck, almost shyly, “Thank you, but we’re not dating.”

The elderly woman, seemingly unmoved, gives you a playful wink. “Hmm~, okay dears, if you say so. Here, this is on the house.” She hands you a bag of cookies. Delicious. Tsukishima made a good choice coming here. You two bow deeply before heading back out into the night, the pleasant taste of ice cream still lingering on your tongues.

The roaring air pulls you closer to him. You shiver and without thinking much of it, he yanks his own jacket off and places it over your shoulders. You hated him.

“I’m walking you home." Tsukishima says.

“Do I get a choice in this?” you ask through a mouthful of the cookie the old woman had given you, free of charge.

He whisks crumbs off the corner of your lips. “No. Why do you eat so messy?” you stick your tongue out at him.

The warm glow of the evening street lights lead you back to your apartment. You felt like you deserved a long rest after tonight, and several other nights spent studying. A long yawn left your mouth, and Tsukki yawns shortly after you.

"Copier." you say childishly.

"Shut up." he murmurs.

It feels as if you two are the only souls in the sleeping city. The silence between you both is comfortable, but it didn’t last long.

He glances down at you as you near your apartment. His words and eyes are both careful. This wasn't a question he was making up on the spot.

"You were off tonight. Why?” he asks.

You knew the question was coming. It was just a matter of when.

“I don’t know," you lie.

“You’re lying,” he says, stopping in the middle of the street to make it even more dramatic. A groan escapes your lips, knowing he wouldn’t let it go. You hope a random car wouldn’t fly past and kill you both.

“I am. But can’t you just leave it?” you almost plea.

“I can’t. The same way you never can,” he replies.

You sigh. You were far too alike for your own good. Looks like you had no choice. You knew Tsukki wasn't moving a single foot until you told him what was up. It's embarrassing to say it out loud.

“I guess I just… I felt a bit left out, you know? You and Hikari-” you start, but are quickly cut off.

Tsukishima’s face hardens, “Seriously? That’s what you were worried about? Me and Hikari?”

His words ignited a blaze of emotions within you. He didn't have to say it like that. Your cheeks burn.

“Tsukishima, I know, it was silly, okay-”

Tsukishima comes closer. His hands rest on your shoulders. Something is different.

“It wasn’t silly, it was stupid. Hikari means nothing to me. At all. I tolerated her. I love you. You understand that, right?”

Your eyes widen. Neither of you said it often. It wasn’t in your vocabulary—it wasn’t the way either of you were. You showed your love in different ways, but hearing him say it like this, you wished you both said it more.

“Tsukki…” Your heart skips a beat, but you quickly reminded yourself that the ‘as a friend’ was attached. It always would be.

Tsukki’s eyes..soften (?) on you.

“I love you. Okay? So...” it’s like a switch turns back on in his head and he realizes what he’s saying. He averts his gaze, and for a moment you see a twinge of pink dust his cheeks. It's just the cold (the wind, guys?) making him that way. That's the lie you tell yourself.

He begins walking away, nearly leaving you behind, “Stop being an idiot and come on.”

You were doomed.

Maybe that volleyball should've taken you out when it had the chance?

a/n: ohhhh i had alot of fun with this chapteeerrrr, lmk how you guys felt about it!!!! paramore's still into you, was a huuuge inspiration for this chapter - as well as a bunch of other songs. hopefully will finish the whole fic this month, but i start college rlly soon :(( hope u guys enjoyed!

taglist !!! @kei-tsuki21 @marga-j @xxizuchanxx @horr0rvacu1 @lavenderhotcoco @sami-stable @awkwardaardvarkforever @rorygilmoreclown @rachlubsuu @sixxze @lonelyladyghost @kurenix @nemisimp @doofusthebozo @scarred-keys

© fornshinoyaz 2023. please do not steal my work.

[weiying-lanzhan-fics]

The tea to my heart by blackmorphos

What a soft, sweet story. I really loved the emotions and pacing - adorable! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Quotes:

Early next Saturday morning, the brothers were at work in the bakery, enjoying the calm, quiet time together after a busy week. Lan Zhan was focused on shaping long ears out of pink dough and placing them on his rabbit-shaped buns, a Saturday only special that was very popular with children. 

In the back of his mind, he was running through a new melody that had come to him. He also hadn’t been able to get the young man from last week out of his thoughts, remembering his restlessness, how he talked too much, and his bright blazing smile. Lan Zhan did not receive smiles like that very often unless it was to flatter him, or chat him up, both of which he detested. He had honed his cold stare put-down into an art form. But that man’s smiles had been charming and natural, not at all calculated and false.

————

Lan Zhan resumed his work in the kitchen, pointedly ignoring Lan Xichen’s amused glances. Casual conversation was difficult for him, but Wei Ying didn’t seem to mind his silences. That man could talk enough for both of them in any case, he mused. Sometime later, he heard Wei Ying call, “your payment is on the counter,” and then the bell as he departed.

Left behind was a delicate sketch of two rabbits with angel wings. He picked it up and smiled. Then he noticed that there was something on the back as well. 

Written in a messy scrawl was:  

‘Elm Street Community gardens, 58 Elm Street. We are there every Saturday from 1 - 4pm, mostly - (if it’s raining, don’t bother). Come along sometime. Only if you want to. WY’

T, 84k

Summary:

A tray being placed onto the table in front of him startled Wei Ying’s attention away from his phone. He looked up with a smile before seeing what the man had brought him.

“You will have tea,” the man said in a low deep voice that brooked no argument.

By the time that had filtered into his brain the guy had already walked away and disappeared out the back. Wei Ying looked down. No coffee, but there was a blue teapot with a small matching cup and a plate with a steam bun on it. Wei Ying blinked stupidly at it for a few moments before deciding it wasn’t worth arguing with the scarily intense man over it, and reached for the bun. It looked so inviting, and it was still warm. Biting into it Wei Ying then realised just how hungry he was, and within seconds the bun had been devoured. It was the best thing he had ever tasted.

—

A sleep deprived Wei Ying stumbles into a tea shop, meets an impossibly beautiful man, and is served a cup of tea that changes his life in more ways than he could have possibly expected.

A modern day meet cute with heaps of Wangxian fluff, mutual pining, and A-Yuan adorableness galore!

[writing-nebula]

Someone Else (Swapped Destinies)

Something wasn't right.

He'd spent years learning to tell when something was wrong, when a place was too loud or too quiet, when to avoid people and when it was okay to approach them, when he had too much attention. He knew when something was wrong, unsafe.

But this wasn't wrong, exactly. Just… different.

He didn't like it.

It had started the day after he finished the puzzle, and because of that he'd originally attributed it to sleep deprivation- it had been 4 am when he finally finished it, after all- but it was now the next day, and the strange feeling of something different had persisted.

Logically, he knew that whatever it was had to be related to the puzzle somehow, and so the way to stop it would be to just take it off.

…But when he'd put it on for the first time, it had felt so… normal.

The added weight should've thrown him off or at least been somewhat uncomfortable- but it wasn't.

Having something so large against his chest should've been obtrusive, getting in the way all the time- but it wasn't.

It felt like he'd been wearing it for years instead of barely two days, and for that reason alone, Seto couldn't bring himself to take it off. Things were so rarely familiar and not bad at the same time, he was reluctant to lose the feeling, even if it was also strange. 

He went to school, and it was the same as it always was. People talking about him behind his back, people talking about Yugi Muto even though he wasn't even in class today, half the students trying to secretly play duel monsters during class.

Joey Wheeler was being a constant bother as usual, trying to speak to him in every class they shared, following him in the hallways, challenging him to a duel every chance he got. As if beating him would be any kind of challenge, Wheeler couldn't duel his way out of a paper bag. 

But ever since he'd discovered that Seto used Blue-Eyes, he'd been practically begging for a chance to see it in action, no matter how many times he was refused. It was honestly becoming less irritating and more pathetic the longer it went on. 

At least it was getting easier to ignore. He had to give up eventually.

Finally, the last bell rang, and Seto was on autopilot as he stood up and briskly made his way through the halls, going through the mental list of strange things he'd noticed since he put on the puzzle. 

I've gotten incredibly brief dizzy spells, but there are quite a few other things that could be causing those. There's the strange familiarity with it, I still don't have an answer for that… Sometimes I feel as if someone is standing over my shoulder, but it isn't causing me any added anxiety, which makes that difficult to figure out as well. Perhaps I should ask Mokuba if he's-

"Seto?"

His brother's voice startled him out of his thoughts, and Seto blinked as he took in his surroundings, surprised to find himself by the gate already- he must've been more lost in his head than he realized.

Mokuba was looking at him with a worried little frown, so he tried to relax somewhat, nodding for them to start walking and just waiting for Mokuba to be ready. 

"Seto, you've been acting weird lately," Mokuba started purposefully, about two minutes into their walk home. "For a couple days now, ever since you finished that puzzle."

"Have I?" Seto questioned, genuinely curious what he'd noticed.

Maybe I should take the puzzle off, if it's been causing such obvious symptoms…

His brother nodded firmly and pulled a notepad from his bag, flipping to a specific page and scanning over a list of things before nodding.

"I've noticed times where you'll stop speaking in the middle of a sentence, look confused for a few seconds, then start talking again like you never stopped," he started reading off, "I've seen you stop walking and look around like you didn't know where you were, only seeming to recognize the place after a few seconds. Seven times I've seen you stumble out of nowhere, six times you've hit your head trying to look in somewhere you know you have to bend over for, and there have been… Fourteen times that you've reached for something and misjudged the distance, usually resulting in you knocking said thing over- and that's just from yesterday and this morning." Mokuba looked up at him again as he paused, his frown deeper this time. 

…Alright, now he could understand why Mokuba was worried. He'd noticed that he'd been a bit more clumsy, but hadn't chalked it up to anything serious- except apparently it was happening a lot more than he realized.

How could I just not notice these things happening? Have I been zoning out that often?

"And just now, in the courtyard!" Mokuba continued when Seto didn't reply, "you're always going on about how much that boy Joey annoys you, and you want him to leave you alone- but then today you exchange numbers with him out of nowhere! What's up with that?"

Seto stopped dead in his tracks, every thought process halting at once when he heard those words.

I didn't do that. I wouldn't do that, he's been nothing but a pest, I'd be happy to never hear that stupid accent again-

He fumbled to pull out his phone, barely hearing Mokuba still talking next to him, hardly even breathing as he navigated to his contacts-

I wouldn't exchange numbers with him, I would never-

But the name Joey Wheeler stared back at him, attached to a number he'd definitely never seen before.

"....I didn't do that," he mumbled to himself, blinking rapidly like that would somehow change what he was seeing, but the name and number remained, like they were silently taunting him. 

I didn't do that.

Seto shook his head sharply and shoved his phone back in his pocket, moving forward again without even acknowledging Mokuba.

But Mokuba saw it happen, this isn’t a case of Wheeler stealing my phone- not that he would've ever had the chance.

He saw it happen, but I have absolutely no memory of it happening- and I wouldn't have done it.

Without thinking, he reached up to grab the rope the puzzle was attached to- and he nearly froze up all over again.

…If I didn't do it, that means someone else did.

What the hell have I gotten myself into? 

[amitheproblemyes]

Meet you at the Graveyard

Tucked away from prying eyes, far from prodding mysteries and judging parents Nancy sat. Back pressed against a thick tree, bark prickled and dug into her bare shoulders. The itchy and jagged sensation felt numb against the cool evening air. Brown locks curled against her pale cheeks, almost as pale as Robin’s as the much taller girl glanced away. She focused on the almost visible stars while Nancy focused on the withering grass. The two girls sat in echoing silence, dazed in the rising moonlight that covered Roane Hill Cemetery. Sleep deprivation sagged in their sunken eye bags, the weight of something heavy lingering in the back of their minds.

Nancy; a perfect, attentive and responsible young lady. Miss Popularity herself, hunched near rows of graves with a dirtied colourful vest tucked under her legs. A much cleaner denim jacket wrapped itself over her lap, keeping her legs hidden from the frigid cold. She looked tattered and tired; Barb, The Mind Flair, The Russians, Vecna… Barb. Smoke stringed from her fingertips, a half-smoked cigarette expertly fiddled between two thin and calloused fingers. It was almost ironic how tragic she looked.

When had her soft and delicate hands become so broken and bruised, when did her grip become so Iron cold. When was the last time she didn’t need a gun by her side to feel safe. The strength in her eyes faltered as she glanced over to Robin, whose chest pushed against her legs, arms sprawled across her knees only a few feet away from Nancy. The brunette’s lips curled into a thin line; hesitation, regret, and pain swam across her blue eyes.

Robin blinked, flickering her uninterrupted gaze away from rising, or well falling rocks in the sky to look back at Nancy obediently. Robin’s eyes reminded Nancy of Barb’s. The thought gagged her, a pang of guilt beating in her chest as she took another drag of the cigarette. Long and slow, filling her chest with something other than guilt, something easier - smoke muddled the uncertainty. For a few moments she felt calmer, more relaxed as she handed the cigarette over to Robin.

Their fingers brushed against each other as Robin took the not so sustainable substance from Nancy’s hands. The touch held for a second longer than it should have, a worried look in Robin’s peering eyes, a touch of concern and warmth in them. “Nance.” The light brown haired girl whispered, her voice quiet and raspy, the way she called her name was cloaked. Nancy couldn’t help by drag her eyes to lock onto Robin’s, a pleading look in her expression. This was the most constant peace she’d had in days, maybe weeks, maybe even months. Her and Robin had stumbled upon each other in the graveyard, both on seperate missions, both needing a minute to rest. They talked for a bit and then quietly waited, night came and went and so did they. It happened again, and again, and again. Robin always stared at the sky.

Her eyes fixated on the passing of birds, or on a book she’d bring to keep her attention occupied. Nancy stared at the ground, as if waiting for something to grow, or something to break again. Some part of her always predicted tragedy, so she waited. Robin would always get her stars, or clouds, or a bleak sky. Nancy would watch the grass sway and stutter in place but no breaking. It became a routine for them to meet at the graveyard, maybe the two would talk, maybe they wouldn’t.

The comfortable silence comforted her, cradled her, harboured her. The feeling mirrored how she felt when Barb was here. When she felt safe “Nance…” Robin repeated with more desperation, a softer tone almost imitating a whimper.

“Robin.” The name came out firm, cold and still. Nancy forced herself to keep an even gaze on Robin. Nancy watched Robin take a quick puff, she didn’t need it as much as Nancy did, or maybe she did. Maybe it just wasn’t her poison. Nancy didn’t bother to ask, didn’t bother with small talk. It felt empty at this point. With everything they’d been through, not only separately but together, someone could write a godam book about how traumatised they were. Vecna had thoroughly messed her up inside. And with Max in the state she’s in, Nancy felt like she failed. A gnawing sensation of guilt clawed its way back, this time with a vengeance. Robin flicked the ashes onto the ground, an unreadable emotion had flashed across her face when Nancy spoke her name. If she was in her right mind, not so tired and smoke filled, Nancy would’ve spoke slower maybe a bit kinder. “Nance… I’m not her. I’m not Barb.” This time Robin’s face turned away, trying to hide from Nancy’s widening eyes.

“I know.” Now her brain started to buzz with the chill of the air grabbing at her arms and neck. Her cheeks tinted with a rosy pink, she snapped forward as she uttered those two words. Not in anger, not in irritation but in desperation. The same desperation that Robin spoke her name with. The same desperation she spent countless nights awake scouring for any piece of Barb she could find. Robin bit her lip, brows knotting into a scrunched up pained look, dropping the dimming cigarette on the ground as her knee snuffed it out and dug into the grass. Nancy’s eyes watered, her lips continuing to purse into an apathetic line, she watched patiently whilst Robin leaned forward on her knees to close the comfortable distance they had maintained.

Robin’s hand rose to hover near Nancy’s cheek, with one knee planted, kneeling in front of a broken down Nancy Wheeler. Robin was the one who always talked in their friendship, she would prattle on and on about anything and everything. Nancy had grown use to the aimless speaking, had grown to like it even. These silent moments always tricked Nancy, Robin was the bubbly and weirdly knowledgeable book worm who could always correct, annoy and praise her. Robin very lightly caressed a strand of dark brown hair, grazing Nancy’s cold cheek, the heat of her hand bleeding into the other girl. “Do you?” With wisps of almond hued hair falling messily in front of her eyes, Robin muttered the question, like a cry - for her to look at her, to see her for who she was.

Nancy thought that Robin wanted reassurance, that she wasn’t just using her as a replacement for her dead-best friend. It made Nancy flinch, the sudden realisation of everything crashing against her. Barb was dead, her corpse rotting in the hell’s cape that is the upside down. Nancy knew about Robin and Barb, that they used to be friends, that they were close until she met Barb and the dynamic changed. Shakily Nancy sucked in a strangled breath, leaning into Robin’s touch just a bit more. Robin’s hand was somewhat rugged, the handling of weapons had roughed her up just a bit, but she held Nancy’s cheek, so gently Nancy thought Robin might be scared of breaking her further. The crawling guilt subsided along with the smoke that cleared from her lungs. The girl in front of her gave her a tentative look, her gaze full of care and worry.

“I know. Robin. I know you aren’t her.” Something about her felt so safe, so annoyingly easy to be around. The two stayed there for a moment, a long quiet moment with rustling leaves accompanying the moment. And as Robin pulled away, getting ready to leave for the night, to end whatever it was they were even doing here - to cut it short again, Nancy relented. Her eyes fell back onto her lap, a hand loosely holding Robin’s hand. Nancy was silent, and Robin was patient. She didn’t shy away when Nancy’s eyes made their way back up to her, she was shaken but kept her composure as she begged for her to “Stay. Just a bit longer. Please.” Nancy croaked, her voice cracking as she spoke.

Tears finally fell from her eyes. A barrage of emotions silently spilling, and Robin was weak, weak for this girl who she hadn’t properly known for long but who’d been so strong and smart in her eyes. Robin let Nancy’s head fall against her chest, shifting her weight to sit with her legs crossed. With a hum Robin stroked Nancy’s head softly, soothing motions to contrast the chaos Nancy’s mind had conjured up.

“I’m so tired Robin.” She finally spoke weakly, drowsy and half awake against Robin’s chest. Nancy listened to Robin’s heart beat as she breathed in and out and the taller girl held her just a little bit closer. “I know Nance. I know.”

———

cri

I did not proof read this it’s 2am :P

- Val, Syl.

[negasonicimagines]

Afraid / Part 15: A Terrifying Conclusion

You grapple with how to reveal the truth to Eloise.

You brood in your room. Until your wounds heal, Logan won’t let you anywhere near the pool and Eloise won’t assign you any tasks. 

You go through your keepsakes alone this time, hoping to find inspiration, perhaps a good first memory to share. 

Wade made you promise that you’d tell her soon, but every time you encounter her you’re either not alone, or she’s mentally screaming about her inner conflict about whether she should risk confessing her feelings for you — it’s overwhelming. 

Someone knocks softly on the door. You thought the saying was speak of the devil. 

“Just a second!” you call out, putting away the tokens of her affection and the evidence that you two were anything other than roommates and, begrudgingly, occasional co-stars. You tuck it under the bed once more before opening the door. 

“Hey, Wade told me you were sulking in here,” she says. “I thought maybe you’d want some company.” 

You’re not sure how to respond. Not only would turning her away be suspicious, but you also crave her presence. On the other hand, though… You’re not sure how much more of her pained thoughts you can take. 

She looks like she’s in pain. Is she not healing properly? The mark looks better… I can’t believe Yukio did that. I still don’t know what went down between them, what was said… It’s driving me nuts. Maybe I should just ask, but that might give me away. 

“Come in,” you tell her, stepping aside. 

She enters your room, looking around. 

“It’s different than I pictured it,” she says. “It’s… Cozy.”

“You didn’t believe those rumors that Miss Frost bought me a sensory deprivation tank to sleep in, did you?” you tease her.

“What?! No, of course not! I’ve never even heard that!” 

You giggle at how easily flustered she is and she smiles back once she realizes you’re kidding. 

“You’re a jerk.”

“I get that a lot,” you reply. “Anyways, uh… I don’t really know what to do. I don’t exactly receive a lot of company in here. Do you want to watch a movie or something?” 

“Oh, uh… Maybe. I don’t know. I thought maybe we could talk, catch up.”

“What do you want to know?” you ask, pretending to sense only that. “And why does it bother you so much?”

“I- Uh, well…” she stammers, worried she’ll phrase it wrong and you’ll catch on to her deeper feelings. Too late for that, dear. “You and Yukio got into a pretty bad fight, then made up right away. What happened?”

“She was mad at me — she felt like it was my fault you two broke up, since I told you about that girl. I teased her a bit for my own amusement. I know she really only meant to slap me, maybe a little zap. She felt absolutely awful instantly and ran to get me some medical attention. We talked, we made up. That’s it.” 

It’s mostly the truth. You’re just omitting the details of your making up, her tearful plea for you to confess. That’s not so bad, is it? 

“I know how capable you are of holding a grudge, I mean, look how long it took you to forgive Miss Frost,” Eloise replies, still in disbelief. “Ugh, fuck it. Just tell me, I need to know… Is it her? Is she the girl?”

“She’s not,” you answer her real, burning question now that she’s asked it out loud. Her shoulders sag with relief. 

“I see…” she trails off. “Look, Levi… Can I call you Y/N?”

You nod, trying to put up every wall and barrier in your mind so you don’t cry — you can feel the desperation rolling off of her. You know what’s coming, but there’s no way to prepare yourself for it. The jig is up. Game over. 

“Y/N, I… I can’t stop thinking about you. I know you love that girl more than anything, more than life itself. And I’m not- I’m not gonna ask you to feel just as strongly about me. But- But do you think…? Do you think you could find it in yourself to love me even half as much, one day?” she asks, her voice crackling with tears as she implores you. 

“I need to tell you something,” you reply, your voice hoarse with fear and every other emotion in the spectrum as her dark, wide eyes stare into yours. You could drown in her eyes. You would, willingly. “You don’t have to ask me if I could love you half as much.” 

“You said you didn’t think you could ever move on,” she says in disbelief. 

Was that the truth? No, that’s not even a question. That’s definitely how she felt at the time. Did I really change that? Me? How could she possibly- How could I possibly-

“I’m not moving on,” you admit softly. 

“So, you think you could love both of us the same amount?” 

I could live with that, absolutely. She has the biggest heart. Being in it is something I treasure, even if I’m not the only one. 

Her confusion frustrates you and endears her to you at the same time. 

“No, Eloise. I have been in love with you this whole time,” you finally say it outright, though still quiet. Her face contorts from joyous surprise to shock. 

“You… No, no, you-” she stammers. “What?”

“Please don’t make me repeat myself,” you beg, “It was already impossible to say.”

“My- You- I’m the girl?” 

You nod. 

“I don’t believe you. You’re powerful, Levi, but you’re not that-” 

You hold a hand up, silencing her without even using your powers. You pull the storage container back out, plopping it on the bed and unzipping it. The two of you stand side by side at the end of the bed. Her eyes scan the contents in bewilderment. 

“Look,” is the only word you can muster, at first. “And make your decision.”

“My decision?” 

“If you want to remember everything…” you trail off, gathering the strength to say what you have to offer her next: “…or forget this conversation ever happened. Or something in between.”

Eloise nods before picking up the photo album from the holidays that you showed Wade. She flips through the pages in a frenzy, still adjusting to her newfound past. Next, she shuffles through your shoebox of trinkets from her. 

“I gave you this?” she asks, holding up the silver locket from your first Valentine’s Day together. 

“I never took it off, until…” you trail off.

“This- This was my maternal grandmother’s. The only thing I had left from that side of my family,” she reveals. “I’ve been looking for it for ages.”

“You never told me that. You said it was just something you had laying around. I couldn’t read minds yet, and by the time I could, I never would’ve questioned you,” you explain. “I’m sorry. You can have it back.”

“No,” she says immediately. “I believe you. And I wanna remember it all.”

“Are you sure? If you change your mind, I can’t- It would be too dangerous for me to do it again. It could cause permanent damage to your brain.”

Eloise grabs your face and kisses you hungrily. You melt into it, whimpering needily as her lips firmly press into yours. Your bodies cling together like magnets, your hips bucking against each other in an effort to get impossibly closer. She pulls away just as your knees are about to give out, almost going for your neck but stopping short, instead taking a deep breath. 

“I’m… I’m sorry if that wasn’t good. I’m sure I’ve been kissed before, but I don’t remember it well,” you apologize. Her hold on you tightens.

“No, don’t be sorry, it was amazing. I’m sorry. I probably should’ve saved that for when I had my memories back, but I couldn’t hold back anymore.”

You shake your head, eyes downcast. 

“I’ve fallen for you all over again, even though you did everything you could to avoid me for years. That proves it, doesn’t it? That it’s real?”

You’re still apprehensive and she can tell. She tilts your head back up, forcing you to look at her. If it weren’t for the severity of this moment, you’d be giggling at the fact that she’s standing on her toes.

“What if I say it doesn’t matter? That what would make me happy is making you mine?” she insists. “I don’t give a single flying fuck if you’re ‘subconsciously making me care about you’ or whatever! All I know is that I want to be with you and you want me, too. Let me remember, please.”

You nod, and she slumps into you. It’s best if she’s unconscious for this. You hold her as you recolor the memories you let her keep and pull the repressed ones from her subconscious. Four years of happiness, fun, sadness, bickering, comfort, support, of being connected in a way you’ve never felt with anyone else and never will… 

Four years of love, perfectly restored when she awakens. 

You lay her to rest in your bed, putting away your keepsakes once more. You’re exhausted, so you decide you’ll rest your eyes next to her and wake with her to a brand new life. 

When your eyes open, it’s to the sight of Eloise. Tears are streaming down her face. 

“I missed you,” she whispers. “I missed you so much and I didn’t even know it.” 

“I’m sorry, Eloise,” you whisper back. She pulls you into her arms, just as she would after a nightmare. In a way, this was a nightmare… But it’s finally over. “Am I still allowed to call you that?”

“Of course,” she confirms, holding you tighter. “So, this is how it’s supposed to be... I feel it again. It’s everything I hoped it would be.”

She caresses your hair, and you can hear her breathing you in. You can’t resist listening in to her thoughts:

My angel, she thinks. Not a monster, not a demon, not an alien… Well, maybe sometimes the latter, like when she straight up eats just peanut butter on toast, but… God, I’d forgotten she does that. She really made me forget how close we are. Were? Does she still feel close to me? 

I do, you can’t help but reply. It’s been torture. 

But I’m lucky to have gotten to get to know you all over again, she thinks back. You’ve grown so much. 

So have you, you reply. 

Yes and no. I wasn’t the same person without you. A wave of anger suddenly rolls through her, her skin radiating a supernatural heat. It’s not directed at you, though. She knew. She knew, and she didn’t tell me. Instead, she hurt you. She knew the whole fucking time, oh my god, everyone did! Her, Wade, Miss Frost-

“Me,” you remind her. 

“That’s different,” she insists, pulling back to see your face. “You- My god, you… You were so alone. Why would you do that to yourself, to…” To the person I love most. It’s impossible for me to be as angry with you as I should be. 

“That doesn’t mean you should blame everyone else. I was-” Afraid, you think, but not to her. You still can’t admit it. Of course, you were concerned that her affection was a result of manipulation on your part, but more than anything, you were afraid to lose her – so you quit before you even got started. You’re still afraid. You tremble, even now. 

“Fine, I get it, I… I won’t lose my cool. But Yukio’s definitely getting a stern talking-to. Wade, too… Well, maybe. For someone who’s always running his mouth, he must’ve been trying pretty hard not to let that slip. I guess I can’t get mad at him for loving you. You deserve it.”

You nod in understanding. 

“What now?” she asks. 

“Whatever you want,” you reply without even thinking about it. Her smile widens.

“I want you to catch me up on what I missed,” she declares. “In detail. I wanna know everything.”

[karl-von-moor-official]

Adding to this, here's some advice that actually helped ME and prioritised ME on how to deal with my tics:

try to sleep. Seriously. A good sleep schedule (and also regular meals) will go a long way. And I know that's fucking hard, I know it's hard to maintain a sleep schedule (I'm sleep deprived rn as I am writing this) and I know it can be hard to fall asleep with tics. But it helps when it works!

Get to know your triggers. Whether it be cold air, itchy fabrics, soft mattresses, prolonged sitting/standing, certain noise, it can be many things. But if you find out things that trigger your tics, you can actually actively work against these triggers. E.g. wearing warm clothes when it gets cool, avoiding certain loud areas/getting headphones, buying softer fabrics or a different mattress, taking breaks from long sitting whenever possible. These are just examples from my own experience, but getting to know your own triggers can really help manage everyday life!

Channelling tics into different tics. Now, this one's a little tricky (or should I say ticy) to explain. (Sorry for the pun.) But basically when I can't sleep because I keep getting tics in my back, I try to move my foot instead (which is a common tic of mine) and basically I try to shift a larger tic (such as clenching my back muscles and curling my whole body) into a smaller tic (such as moving my foot/ankles). This doesn't feel as horrible as suppressing tics and isn't as difficult imo, but it helps me fall asleep sometimes.

don't tear yourself up about them. Probably every person with tics knows that stress can influence tics, but we all know that "just relax" is stupid advice! Of course it's amazing if you can minimise stress or at least try to do so in your everyday life, but it's often not possible. What's super important though is to remember not to get mad with yourself for feeling stressed. When I'm stressed and my tics get more frequent, I often slip into a sense of self-resentment. But in the end, all that does is increase my stress! It's silly and I know it and when I can catch me beating myself up about it, I try to stop it. Don't make this harder on yourself than it already is. Be kind to yourself. Which brings me to my next point:

Self-soothing. This is maybe my MOST IMPORTANT ADIVCE because it does WONDERS for me! Find something that actually soothes your nervous system! For me, I rub my fist on my chest in a circular motion. The contact and the movement is soothing to me in a way that helps me relax which actually helps with my tics very often! If you need to have a smooth stone in your pocket at all times to self-soothe, then by all means - do it! Anything, as long as you're not hurting anyone. Literally anything you can do to make yourself feel more at peace will help. Again, don't make it harder on yourself than it already is!

Don't think about it so much. I admit, this advice sounds about as helpful as "just relax", but bear with me for a second. Firstly, tics are often increased by talking about them/thinking about them/giving them attention (I know, because mine are increasing while writing this post). It doesn't have to be like that for every person with tics, but if you are, like me, one of those people whose tics get worse when you talk about them, then don't! In many cases, you don't owe people an explanation. Don't put your tics at the centre of your thoughts. I know that's not easy when they are quite literally a disruption, but the more you can tell them "fuck off, I don't even care, I don't care what you do or what other people think" the less they might bother you. Again, not as simple as it sounds and I'm aware, but sometimes giving a thing too much attention actually makes the thing worse!

All of these are just my own experiences and might not work for you, but if this does reach even a single person who finds it helpful, I'd love that!

Much of the time I find the way that we’re told to manage tics very much prioritises others rather than the person with tics.

Oftentimes it’s about how to make us more palatable to those who don’t have tics, whether that is being in good humour and allowing them to laugh at us regardless of whether we are comfortable with that, locking ourselves up at home so people don’t have to see something “icky”, putting ourselves in the constant discomfort of suppressing tics for no reason but the fact that other people are ignorant.

Justifying ableism as “well what do you expect going out and yelling swear words?”. When my tics first developed my parents threatened to never let me leave the house, go to school or see friends saying that I have to “think of others”. It is always seen as my responsibility to educate and jump through hoops to be treated with basic decency. People make it very clear that their few seconds of discomfort are priority over my entire life.