#fic: fleecy

[sylphidine]

I am very glad that I've never actually stated on AO3 that I would adhere to a consistent posting schedule for any of my works.

That way lies madness, in my humble opinion.

BUT.

I do need to update more often than I do. I've already semi-promised myself that I won't start any more multi-chapter stories until I finish my works in progress.

No matter how much they itch at the back of my brain...

[brahmsthirdracket]

Hello! I recently came across your hughes brothers fics and binge read most of them last night :). Would you be open to writing anything about the time Luke said quinn ripped jack’s braces out of his mouth? (If you’re not taking requests feel free to ignore this!!!)

Luke never feels like eating much before cross-country. He likes it fine - he likes it more than fine actually, at least compared to Jack and Quinn, because it’s one of the few things he’s better at than them - but the thought of slogging it through the mud straight after breakfast makes his stomach roll.

He swirls his spoon around his bowl of cereal instead, trying to corral his Cheerios into a pleasing formation. He’s got a kind of Great Lakes thing going on but he’s eaten Lake Superior and it’s doesn’t really make sense for the milk to be the land and - 

“Time to go, kiddos!”

He swallows Lakes Erie, Michigan, Huron and Ontario, and the surrounding landmass with a grimace, and shuffles into the hall. Jack and Quinn are already sitting on the stairs wearing matching fleecy headbands and looking miserable. 

“It’s cold,” Jack whines. 

“Run faster then,” their mom says, rummaging through her purse. “You’ll soon warm up.” She looks real pretty today, Luke thinks. Like maybe she did her hair extra nice or something. He pulls his headband on and sits on the bottom step, cheek resting on Quinn’s knee, to wait. 

“Jim!” she bellows. “Hurry up! I’m already running late!” 

“For what?” Their dad’s head appears through the basement door, followed by his golf clubs and then the rest of him. “Where are you going?”

“Where are you going?”

“The PTA fall fundraiser,” says his mom, at the same time his dad says, “Golf.” 

“It’s on the calendar,” they both say at the same time. 

“Well, you’ll have to reschedule,” says his mom in that voice that means no arguing. “Boys have a meet in Sunnybrook.” 

“But -” splutters his dad. “I can’t reschedule. I put it on the calendar, like you told me to.” He lowers his voice, pleading. “El, it’s with the guys.”

“It’s okay mom,” says Quinn, standing up to lean over the bannister and pat her shoulder consolingly. “We’ll miss cross-country this one time.” 

“Let me see this,” she growls, and they all trot into the kitchen after her to peer at her Wildflowers of Texas calendar. 

Fall Fundraiser shift 9-12 is written in today’s box in his mom’s neat handwriting, and below that: 

Q, J & L Prep 2 XC 9am (don’t forget headbands!!)

Someone’s drawn a skull next to cross-country, almost- but-not-quite obscuring a tiny and unmistakable golf printed right at the bottom. 

“See?” says his dad, jabbing a finger at it. 

“Well, just go after the race and take the boys with you,” she says, already fishing out her car keys. 

“But - tee time is at nine! Ellen!” 

“It’d better be a quick race then, hadn’t it?”

She kisses each of them, pinching Jack’s scowling face and adjusting Quinn’s headband. Luke turns his face into her fleeting pat on the cheek before she’s out the door in a waft of perfume.

“Run fast and don’t fall in the lake!” she calls ominously over her shoulder, just before the door swings shut behind her. 

Their dad waits for her SUV to pull out of the drive and down the road before he flicks the curtain back into place and motions for them all to huddle in. 

“Come here, rink rats.” He tugs them in close, lowers his voice like he’s about to reveal some top-secret play. “And listen up. This is the plan.”

***

The plan turns out to be the ODR, a bag of pucks and a cheery, “I’ll pick you up in a coupla hours!” before Luke’s even out of the car. 

Jack whoops with happiness the minute he hits the ice, spinning and sending the pucks scattering in every direction. Quinn’s right behind him, thwacking puck after puck into the net. 

“Fuck.” Thwack “Cross.” Thwack “Countryyyyy.” Thwack

“Forever,” Jack sing-songs, sweeping one up onto his stick and slinging it through the air. It bounces off the metal with a twang.

“C’mon Lukey,” he calls, scuffling playfully against Quinn. “Don’t pretend you actually like that shit.”

Luke tries to sulk for a bit, taking his time with his laces. His brothers hadn't even laced them up for him, which, rude. But it’s a perfect November morning, as crisp and perfect as a snowglobe before you turn it upside down. They’ve got the whole rink to themselves. It’s been way too long since they did this: no adults, no cones or drills or gear, just the three of them together, playing hockey. 

“Yeah, well some of us can actually outrun old ladies pushing little dogs in strollers,” he chirps, darting out into the middle. 

Quinn and Jack exchange a look. “Get ‘im,” growls Quinn, with a wolfish grin, lurching towards Luke and trying to hook him in with his stick. Luke squeals, twisting away and rocketing as fast as he can up to the other end of the rink, Jack in hot pursuit. They chase him all over, dodging pucks and their abandoned sticks and gloves, until they’re all wheezing with giggles. Quinn eventually manages to get an arm around his neck from behind and pull them both down and Jack belly-flops on top. 

“One day,” Luke pants from the bottom of the dogpile, trying to knee Quinn in the balls so he’ll let him up and getting a facewash for his troubles, “I’m gonna be bigger and faster than both of you.” 

“But until that day,” Quinn replies, finally rolling off and tugging Luke to his feet, “You can get in goal.” 

They play shinny until they’re hot under their sweatshirts and jerseys, hair sticking to their foreheads and breath coming in short pants, and Luke thinks he’s never had so much fun playing hockey, playing anything. It’s hard though, just as gut-churning as a whole weekend tournament or relentless drills in the basement with his dad. Jack and Quinn never give an inch, never care that he’s smaller and younger when it comes to this, and he loves them for it, because when victory comes, he knows he’s earned it. They push each other just as hard, sometimes too hard Luke thinks, watching Jack cuss and elbow Quinn in the gut as they're scrabbling against the boards. Quinn shoves his face back, and the next minute they’re rolling around on the ice in one of their completely shitty fistfights. 

Luke hovers next to them, glancing around and praying no one he knows from school is about to walk past. 

“Stop. Trying. To. Bite.” pants out Quinn. He’s managed to roll over and pin Jack with his weight, and is trying to push his face away. Jack’s a slippery eel though - especially when he’s an eel on ice - and he seems to be trying to lick Quinn to get him off. Which is not a tactic Luke would use himself, honestly, but whatever works he guesses. It must work, because he manages to sink his teeth into Quinn’s forearm and they’re rolling all over the place, gloves and sticks forgotten - thank God. What happens next is a blur of flying arms and legs (and in Jack’s case teeth, the weirdo), but suddenly Jack lets out a shriek of pain - a real one - and Quinn lets go of him like he’s been burned. 

Jack curls up, one hand over his mouth, and whimpers into his knees. 

“Jack? What’s wrong?” Quinn tries to make him look up, pull his hand down. Jack’s eyes are huge with unshed tears. “Jackie?” Quinn asks again, really worried now.

“Um,” says Luke. He squats down next to Jack and picks up the little piece of metal off the ice. Cradling it in his glove, he holds it out to Jack, who gazes at it for a moment and then promptly socks Quinn square in the jaw. 

***

“Someone’s arm better be hanging off,” growls their father when he pulls up to the curb they’re huddled next to and flings the car door open. Luke wordlessly holds out the braces to him. “The fuck is that?” 

“Jack’s braces,” mumbles Quinn, with a guilty glance at the unhappy figure hunched on the other side of the lot. 

“Jack has braces?” Sometimes Luke thinks he could grow a tail and his dad wouldn’t notice unless it affected his play. Last week he had to check Quinn’s date of birth so he could fill out some paperwork.

“He doesn’t anymore, Dad,” Luke pipes up. 

“Jack! Get over here!” he bellows. He takes the braces from Luke’s hand, holding them up for a better view. “These things just click back into place or what?” Jack stomps over, scowling and sniffing. He won’t even look at Quinn, and when Quinn tries to reach out his hand Jack smacks it away viciously. 

“Fuck off.”

Their dad gets a handful of Jack’s jersey and tries to prise his mouth open like he’s a dog that’s eaten something bad. “Oww", whines Jack, trying to twist out of his grip. “You’re hurting me!”

“Open. Up.” Their dad grunts, trying to push the braces back across Jack’s front teeth with one hand, and hold him still with the other. 

“Dad, no! Stop!” Quinn pushes himself between them, trying to protect Jack from being force-fed a mouthful of metal. “You can’t do that! We have to go to the orthodontist.”

“The what?” he pants, temporarily letting go of Jack to turn the metal round, as if the reason he couldn’t fit them back on like Lego was that they were upside down. Jack immediately darts behind Quinn and Luke reaches up to swipe them out of their Dad’s hand. 

“Dad,” he says, more bravely than he feels. “I think you need to call Mom.”

The three of them huddle together on the backseat, trying to stay as quiet and inconspicuous as possible as their dad calls their mom for instruction. Luke finds a packet of half-eaten Reese’s pumpkins, no worse for being frozen and unfrozen a few times and settles in for the long-haul. Jack slumps sideways with his head in Quinn’s lap, playing with the strings of his sweatshirt and allowing Quinn to scratch behind his ear in apology.

She’s ominously silent all the way through the slightly edited version of what happened, not even interrupting to yell at Quinn. 

“So let me get this straight,” she says, after a pause. “You didn’t take your sons to their scheduled sports-activity but instead took yourself to golf and allowed said sons out unsupervised to publicly brawl, causing hundreds of dollars of dental bills?” 

“It was on the calendar! It was on the calendar Ellen!” 

“Well Jim Hughes, all I will say is thank God for Canadian healthcare.”

“They cover braces?” says his dad, perking up. He twists round to waggle his eyebrows at them, all looks like we got away with it.

“Oh no,” she says airily. “I meant for you four, when I’ve finished with you!”

[min-hoax]

dirty little secrets - knj

Summary: Namjoon was a hopeless romantic. He thought that was his destiny, and for you? That was simply your doom.

Pairing: Yandere! Namjoon x F! Reader

Word Count: 8.25K

Warning(s): Obsession, stalking, he’s so delusional 😍, the reader is a messy bitch BUT I love her, infidelity, underage drinking, mentions of drugZ (characters are over 18!), mentions of suicide, manslaughter, mentions of blood and a dead body, mentions of attempted SA, MDNI 18+ SMUT SMUT SMUT, cunnilingus, fingering, loss of virginity, sliiiiiiiight breeding kink (it’s me, yall should’ve known😭)

A/N: I know I said I’d be gone, but I got so inspired!! This fic is written in Namjoon’s POV! Enjoy being in our lovely yanderes’ mind. 😈 UNEDITED!!!

I dreamt of you before I met you.

In my romanticizing mind where I’d day dream about our life and what could be. You, wrapped around my arms as you slept. Us, on a trip that you desired to go to ever since you were a child.

It was moments like those that made me wait for you, and only for you because the moment I set my eyes on you, I was a goner.

I smiled at you from across the room when we locked eyes, the blaring music thundering inside my chest as you sat on a table, your legs swinging up and down. You nodded when your friend voiced something loudly, agreeing to whatever it was, but yet your eyes remained on mine.

I caught your eyes just like you caught mine.

But my admiration did not last long for a boy slithered his way into your embrace, a red cup of liquor in his hand that he passed to you while pecking your lips. I should have known a beautiful angel like you was bound to be in the arms of a lover, but how come I felt a little pang on my chest the second your lips locked with his?

I knew we were meant to be because how did the universe connect us both so effortlessly? It wanted us together and I knew that the second I saw you again. I set my eyes on you that same night, this time not at a house party, but at your own home.

Our home.

The move frightened me and caused my calamitous mind to drown in nightmares of what could be’s, but once I set foot in the town that I now called my home, I knew everything was going to be fine. Everyone was kind and welcoming and I didn’t even spend a sweat in finding a home once I packed my childhood home up and made my way north.

The memories of my mother were too haunting and I simply could not bear it. I had enough money from the life insurance company I acquired after her passing and made the decision so quickly after.

I found the ad one Saturday afternoon: Room For Rent! $525 A Month. ALL Amenities Included. I talked to a woman on the phone (now I know it was your mother) when I reached out, allowing her to know I was interested in the offer. She was kind and after a longing while of questions, she accepted and I made my way to you. I just didn’t know it then.

Your scream from fright made me jump, the cup of water in my hands slightly dripping droplets on the wooden ground. “What the fuck?” You muttered, taking a step back. Your eyes were messy with makeup, the night no doubt taking a toll on your sleep, after all it was three in the morning when you walked inside. “Who the hell are you?”

I meant to speak, but the creek of your mothers’ door opening upstairs kept me from opening my mouth, and seeing you standing before me did not help either. Your mother made her way to us, wrapping her pink fleecy robe around her waist. Your scream no doubt roused her from sleep.

“What’s going on - oh.” She looked at us. Did she not tell you about me? Perhaps not, it was obvious. But I was slightly afraid that I’d be scolded by your mother. I was free to roam the inside of your home to make my meals and shower and get a cup of water in the middle of the night, but yet you were her daughter and mothers were always fiercely protective. I knew.

“Sweetheart.” She started and smiled. “This is Namjoon. I guess I didn’t tell you he’d be renting the room at back.”

“Uh, since when?”

“Since… two nights ago?” She looked at me, trying to remember. I nodded. “Yes, since Thursday. I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you.”

I didn’t know I was desperate to feel your touch, but as soon as your hands fit in mind when you shook it and introduced yourself with a tired smile on your face, I shuddered.

“Well I'm glad you weren’t an intruder.” Your hand slipped from mind as you made your way into the kitchen, fetching a glass and filling it with water whilst speaking. “Just, mom, please give me a heads up next time.”

Next time? I wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon. I knew there were others before me, the wall by my bed was vandalized with small figures and initials that read KTH, and I always wondered who resided in the room I now slept in.

You looked like an angel when you took a step towards the stairs, turning your head to smile at me one last time. The light on the ceiling gifted you with a glow that made me smile like an idiot. “Goodnight.”

Oh, I was a goner.

I couldn’t help it. I was never a violent person and I even surprised myself when I thought of punching your boy in his perfect face. I knew for a fact that though I was taller and was at an advantage, I could not win in a fight because I had never been in one. I was never the confrontational type.

He was the epitome of perfection. Round, but define cheeks, plump pink lips that made my jaw clench when yours connected with his, and blonde hair that fit him perfectly. He was everything that I wasn’t and that made me want to shrivel up inside and scream with rage until my throat was sore and my voice was nonexistent.

But I could only dream.

“Namjoon, please, help yourself.” Your mothers voice called for me, taking me out of my thoughts and onto the situation that I did not want to deal with. You and Park Jimin.

He sat before me, a plate of breakfast on the diner table and an arm wrapped around the back of you as you nursed a cup of coffee.

There was something with you and coffee. I always noticed you would make yourself a cup, take a few sips, but you never finished it. Always throwing it out the drain before you made your way to school. I always wondered. Until I didn’t.

I wasn’t in school, not yet anyway. After I graduated a few years back my mother tried her best to steer me towards it, but I wasn’t interested, even after the various scholarships I was offered. I knew I could still, for I was smart and capable. There was a part of me that did want to, just to simply join you at the community college you and Jimin went to, but I refrained.

I wasn’t a stalker.

“So Namjoon, how are you liking it here?” Jimin suddenly spoke with a bright smile on his cheeks. It wasn’t that it took me by surprise, Jimin had never spoken to me directly, but I didn’t want him to talk to me. To me, the younger boy was obnoxiously loud and a nuisance.

I breathed as I pushed the want of rolling my eyes. But instead, I took a finger on the bridge of my glasses and pushed them up. I smiled.

“It’s great.” I replied, nodding. “Everyone is kind and the setting is absolutely beautiful. The forestation that surrounds us is amazing.” I couldn’t help but to look at you as I voiced my opinion. I wasn’t lying, you were absolutely beautiful. Absolutely perfect.

Jimin raised a brow and chuckled. “Well, I’m glad. I’ve never really noticed what surrounds us, but I agree.” And with a sip of his apple juice, the conversation between us ended.

I was glad.

But where a conversation dies, another one starts. Your mother was a very talkative person. I had only been with you all for about two weeks in a half, but I felt like I knew her for years. She talked about herself a. lot, and I only wished that she did of you, but I figured she was just lonely after her husband’s passing.

She talked about him all the time and I noticed that she refrained from speaking about him when you were around. From what she spoke of your father, he seemed like a good man. It was only after you left one day to go to school, she finally confessed. She cornered me in the laundry room when I went to gather my clothes and started speaking of everything and anything, until she came about your father.

“My love struggled a lot when he was on earth side. He was fine for a while, but it got too much for him and one day he decided to leave us. My sweet girl found him.”

After that, I finally understood. Why she never spoke of him when you were present and why you made yourself a cup of coffee, but never drank it. The cup was your fathers, engraved with his initials on the side.

I felt my heart break for you and all I could say was that I was sorry. You didn’t deserve to live with the trauma inside of your wonderful mind and inside your perfect heart. In a way I understood you. My mother had gotten sick, until one day the sickness enveloped her whole until she was left with nothing and I was left with a hole inside my chest. There was nothing else to do for her.

My heart jumped as you stood because it mean you’d leave. I could only look at you as you made your way to the sink (as expected) took a farewell sip of the coffee before dumping it in.

“Have a good day.” I said with a wide smile as you retrieved your backpack and the baby blue cup you seemed to take with you everywhere. At least you stayed hydrated. I knew because you had to go to the restroom often.

You returned it, that beautiful smile that made me want to kneel at your feet and beg you to smile for all of eternity. “Thank you, Namjoon.” And you walked, “Bye mom, love you.”

My smile died as Jimin wrapped his arm around your neck, kissing your cheek. And you smiled. I only looked away, watching you unlock your vehicle and getting inside of it.

This jealousy only seemed to grow. I couldn’t help it. I wished you weren’t someone else’s. I wish that my miserable self had gotten here just a little bit earlier, maybe then you’d have been mine.

But would you have liked me?

I never considered myself someone who others would accept romantically. Growing up, I was a lame excuse of a human being, always too shy, always too quiet and afraid to speak my mind. As I grew older, I got better at communicating with the people around me, but I still stuttered when I spoke, and still struggled to continue a conversation.

It was a blessing and a curse because nobody spoke to me, just as I wanted it to be.

As I wrote, I simply couldn’t focus. All I thought of was you, every day and every second that passed by. No one had ever captivated my mind the way you did. I waited for you in my home right outside in the backyard. There was a small window by the door - the only way to get inside and out. It faced yours and I would always see you once you arrived and came home from school.

We had a routine. You’d see me through the curtains, and we’d smile at each other as I worked and I couldn’t wait until dinner arrived because I’d be in your presence and you’d be in mine.

There was something in your eyes that made me believe that you… wanted me. Was I delusional? I’d see it every single time you’d pull your chair out for dinner. You’d give me a smirk as you made your way next to me and I would only give a small hello and thank your mother for the delicious food that she had prepared. But through it, you’d look at me through the corner of your eye and I would only pretend I didn’t see.

You had Jimin. You weren’t like that. That’s what I truly believed until you came stumbling into my room, drunk in the middle of the night and immediately grabbing onto my shirt and connecting your lips with mine.

My heart had never pounded so fast. It took me by surprise which is why I took a hold of your shoulders and gently took a step back. “What are you doing?” Your eyes were bloodshot, like you’d been crying and I cupped your warm cheeks into my hands and took a glance at your cherry-burgundy lips.

“Do you not want me?” The tone in how you voiced the question made my heart ache; begging and fretful. How could you say such a thing? I have always wanted you, but not like this.

“Come. Sit.” I grabbed your wrist and I sat you on the edge of my bed. “What’s going on? What happened?” I towered over you as you sniffled and looked at me with tearful eyes.

“Jimin, -“

Of course.

“ - he doesn’t want to have sex with me.” You said it so meekly that I almost didn’t hear you. “He - he keeps making excuses about how he wants to wait till marriage, but I mean that is such bullshit! It’s outdated and stupid. Who at this date and age does not want to have sex? He’s not even religious!” As much as it pained me to see the tears falling from your eyes so delicately, I couldn’t help but to feel a sense of victory through your defeat.

Did this mean your relationship with Jimin was coming to an end? It had to, right? You seemed happy at his side, but now, as I saw the proof in front of me, it was all a faux.

But there was also a part of me that felt angry. Was I just your second choice? Would you have come for me and begged for me to bed you if you had other men wrapped around your finger?

“Well, -“ I started slowly, taking a seat to the right of you. “ - sometimes people like to wait, you know, just to be sure that the person they're giving themselves up for is… worth it.”

You sniffled again, wiping at your face. “You - you think he thinks I’m not worth it? We’ve been together for almost two years.”

Remind me, why don’t you.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I wouldn’t be able to tell you myself, but a girl like you, you’re worth everything. To give up for, to kill for. Just say the words and you’ll have men at their knees. You decide.”

-

You were taunting me, it was so obvious. With those deliciously roguish eyes that eyed me with want and the skirts that barely covered your bottoms with the shirts that you paired that were the definition of skimpy, I knew what game you were playing.

It was when your arms would stray away from your lap and would just gently touch my arms at dinner, I knew that you wanted me the way I wanted you.

But it was wrong. Although I hated Jimin, I couldn’t help but to think that if I were in his position, your betrayal would wound me like no other. He seemed to love you, yet here you were, teasing me with your sensual eyes and your beautiful body that I absolutely wanted to ravish and worship.

But through the slight guilt I felt, there was a part of me that was… happy. Your mother was a nurse, working mostly every night at the local hospital which left me home, alone with you and with my tumultuous mind. You and Jimin were almost similar it seemed. You’d argue almost every night when he stayed to keep you company.

And though I couldn’t help but to feel jealous, a part of me was comfortable with him at your side because after that night that you came to me for comfort, the virgin wanted to wait until marriage.

My mother raised me right which is why I pushed myself away from listening to your heated match. But how could I? I had never met someone who could screech in anger the way you did to him.

He left soon thereafter, slamming the door with such force that it made my body jump from the sound. I fought with myself to go check on you, maybe you needed your space, but the thought of you crying was enough to do me in. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water, climbing the stairs and making my way to you.

The knock on the door was almost timid and quiet, but even when you didn’t answer, I gently opened it, and there you were, in a fetus position laying on your side, hugging a giant teddy bear to your chest.

“Hi.” You whispered looking up at me with those eyes that I loved so much. But they were swollen, and my immediate thought was to comfort you. I didn’t think when I sat at your side, brushing the strands of hair that were at the front of your face.

“Hey, there beautiful.”

You huffed, “I look far from beautiful right now.”

How could you ever think that? You were an angel fallen from heaven.

“Do you think he hates me? I said some pretty shitty things.”

I refrained from rolling my eyes, but for your sake I simply shook my head. “Of course not. I’m sure he understands that people say shitty things when they're angry. I mean, I’m sure he has said some things to you before, no?”

With a shake of your head you maneuvered your body, landing right on your back with the teddy bear on top.

“No, Jimin isn’t like that. He’s quiet in moments like these. I feel like that makes me angrier, you know? Like tell me something, tell me that I’m a bitch or that you hate me, but say something! Anything!”

I understand why he kept quiet. I would never say things of that magnitude to you. It was a disrespect that no one could come back from because you would never deserve it.

“So you like to be degraded?” I teased, raising a brow.

“What?” You chuckled. There it was. Just exactly what I wanted. “Of course not, Namjoon!” I smiled at the playful strike you landed on my thigh. “I’m just saying, I just feel like he doesn’t try to communicate.”

“Well… maybe you need to find someone else.” I couldn’t believe what I was doing. “Someone who could take your needs as theirs and actually knows how to communicate. My mother always said that communication was key in a relationship.”

“But I love him.” I swear, my chest felt like it was struck with something so tight that I couldn’t comprehend. How could you say something like that in my presence? Couldn’t you see how much I loved you?

And through my anger, I couldn’t help but to reply. “Sometimes, loving someone means you have to let them go. I know it’s hard, but I know you know Jimin isn’t good for you. All this arguing, this crying, it will only take a toll on you that you cannot take.”

Your fingertips on my thigh took me by surprise, stroking it with such sensuality as you looked up at me with those eyes that screamed for me to take you to bed. “And how would you know, hm? Have you ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?”

My breath hitched as your fingers played with the waist of my pants, tugging them down just slightly. “N - no.”

It was a lie. But why bring past mistakes into my future? I hated lying to you, but a little white lie would never hurt.

“No?” You hummed, now on your knees as you came closer. I could feel your breathing and as my hands guided you into my lap, I couldn’t hold back anymore.

My lips connected with yours with such hunger, such intensity. How I longed to hold you close and have you by my side. Your body wrapped around mine felt so right, like a puzzle piece I knew I was missing. Couldn’t you see? We were perfect for each other.

With a small grunt, I laid you down on your bed without separating myself from you, desperately taking off your oversized shirt that you hid your alluring body from. And with hunger, I wrapped my lips around your beautiful breasts, pecking your sternum and making my way down to the waist of your pants. You complied, raising your hips and allowing me to remove the nuisance from your waist.

And what a sight. There wasn’t an inch of you that I couldn’t find a flaw. Stretch marks followed the side of your thighs, and along the middle of your tummy. I kissed them with reverence before my tongue dove inside the place I always wanted to be in.

You tasted absolutely divine. And I was hungry for more as I sucked on the little pearl between your legs, wrapping my hands around your thighs and hugging you closer.

“Namjoon.” You whimpered, and that made me want you even more.

The small little gasp you made made me smirk and I didn’t hold back from bringing you close to the orgasm that you were on the brink of, but I held back. I wanted to be inside of you as I came and held my hold inside of you. You looked up at me as I undressed, my sweatpants on the ground in an instant before I held you tight between my arms and entered the place I had dreamt of being.

Your brows furrowed from the uncomfortableness, it was to be expected as I was your first - the first man that had ever been inside of you. The thought almost brought me to the brink, but I wanted your first time to be loving and special.

And just as I expected, the feeling was euphoric and I couldn’t help but to moan and drop my head in the warmth of your neck. Your hands held my neck tight as you adjusted, soft little pants escaping your precious lips. “I know, sweetheart. I know.” I whispered, giving you soft little pecks on your lips and on your forehead as comfort.

“I - I think you can move.”

“Are you sure?” The furrow in between your brows was gone, but I wasn’t sure. I didn’t want to hurt you, but when you nodded and gave me a smile, I pulled away from the warmth between your legs, and made my way in once again.

At that moment, my dreams were coming true. Jimin was nonexistent as I knew it was the same for you. You muttered my name and my name only as you held me with a vice grip and kissed me on the lips.

I had never been brought to such ecstasy the way I did with you. After you came for the first time before I brought you to more, I soon followed, gasping for breath from the feeling of you holding by cock with such a vice grip.

We took a breath for a second as we giggled like school children and kissed each other hard. But you were insatiable. You wanted for more even as your legs shook with exhaustion and you mounted me and rode me like I was the last man on earth.

But of course, you needed to sleep and your body knew it, and soon after we finished making love, your eyes drooped and you slept so soundly, close to my chest and my beating heart.

I couldn’t help but to stroke your belly. Maybe… my seed would take place inside of you and you’d be pregnant before we knew it. In my mind, I sickly hoped that you were. I knew that I was going out on a limb and that one couldn’t get pregnant with just one night, but I wanted you to be.

I always dreamt of a family. Was I so wrong to want something with the woman I loved?

But the righteous won. We were still young and… Jimin, Jimin was still in the picture. Goddamn Park Jimin. I hated him with everything I had, and I hated my mind even more for ruining the afterglow I was basking in.

With I sigh, I gently kissed the crown of your head, getting dressed with the thought of making my way to a pharmacy and getting you a contraceptive to prevent pregnancy. I knew it wasn’t right.

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand and with a glance, my stomach dropped as I read it.

JiHoon: Hey, baby. I loved that little present you gave me. See you soon?

I couldn’t help the tears from forming and with a slam to your door, I left your bedroom, no doubt rousing you from your sleep.

-

I couldn’t stop staring at you. The night you gifted me with stuck to my mind. You gave me something forbidden that I couldn’t come back from. After I left your bedroom, I made my way to the pharmacy, slightly smiling at the only cashier and took the bag with me. I left it on your nightstand, but I couldn’t bear to look as you slept.

You betrayed me.

You kept betraying me. The fight you had with Jimin seemed to be forgotten. You two lovebirds were inseparable the following day. Were you not guilty? Or did you just stick by his side because he was all you knew and you couldn’t let go?

I knew I could give you something better. Something that was worth your time and effort. I’ll take you out of this town that you lived in your whole life and perhaps we could live in the home I grew up in. It wasn’t much, but it would be enough for the both of us.

“Hey, Namjoon.” You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. You awkwardly looked away and eyed Jimin. You couldn’t even look me in the eyes.

You both sat at the hanging bench that was at the front of your house, your arm wrapped around his. Jimin smiled at me, nodding at my precence, but I didn’t follow. I couldn’t help but to glare. But as soon as it formed, I hid it, immediately smiling bright, looking down at the both of you.

I was feeling messy.

“Did you take it?”

It was obvious I caught you off guard. You gulped, letting out a nervous chuckle. Jimin, of course had no idea about the contraceptive I had bought you, and I took pride and a bit of sick pleasure at your unprepared face

“Take what?” Jimin questioned with furrowed brows.

“Uh - just, I - I had a headache last night, and uh, Namjoon gave me pain killers. That’s it.”

You weren’t a great liar, but you were fast.

“Good.” I nodded, “You should just have a few on hand, you know, for when it happens again because headaches -“ I eyed Jimin, shaking my head, “they’re the worst.”

“Right. You know what, we were leaving. We have a movie to watch.” You stood quickly, taking a hold of your lover's hand and when you walked and I was at your back, I spoke once again.

“You don’t mind if I tag along?”

There was a pause as the birds chirped and Jimin turned. “Uh, yeah sure, why not?” I knew the invite was just a lie, but I knew the man wasn’t going to turn me down; he was kind and simply couldn’t take it.

“I’ll drive.” I offered, my long legs allowing me to walk ahead and just as I wanted, I stood next to you, opening the door to my vehicle and letting you go first. “Thanks.” You muttered.

The drive was… unpleasant. As much as Jimin tried to make small conversation, it simply didn’t go anywhere. I hated to admit, but Jimin wasn’t so bad. He tried his best to make me comfortable and no doubt himself, but I despised him and a part of him knew.

When we arrived at the theater after Jimin kept instructing me where to go, I paid for the tickets and for the snacks. I figured it was the least I could do after I stuck with you both like a leech. Jimin was thankful, patting me on the back and taking a seat on the tables the theater offered. He nodded when you voiced you needed to go to the restroom, and I took a seat, taking a sip of the cherry slushee.

“I don’t mean to pry, but did she tell you what happened last night?” His question caught me off guard.

“She didn’t have to tell me. I heard everything.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, about that, I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s just - when she gets like that, she can’t stop and it’s difficult to speak.”

Was he seriously blaming you right now?

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “I completely understand. Don’t worry about it.”

“You ever had a girlfriend, Namjoon?” Why did it sound like he was mocking me? Did I seem to be below him because I didn’t carry his fair skin and plump pink lips? He was everything I wasn’t - had everything I wanted, and I wanted to punch him until he was left unrecognizable and no one would ever look his way.

“No.” I replied with a shake of my head. “Not really.” He looked at me with confusion. “What do you mean, ‘not really’?

I despised thinking of Anna, and leave it to Jimin to bring back memories I wanted to bury deep in my consciousness. She was a woman who deserved no mercy, not after the way she spoke of my mother, like if she were scum below her shoes.

My mother was the light of my life and there wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of her and held her close to my heart.

I loved Anna, or at least I thought I did, and I admit, it did hurt me letting her go, but now I know that what I had with her was never love. She was a fiend, and you are an angel.

“I prefer not to talk about it. Do you mind if I go to the restroom?”

“No, of course no -“

I didn’t even let him finish. With caution, I checked my surroundings before I entered the women’s restroom, intently scanning the thin wooden doors of the stalls and once I caught the black Converse’s you wore, I placed my back against the wall, and waited.

The small little gasp of fear that escaped your mouth once you saw me made me smile. “Sorry. I just had to talk to you.” I shrugged, grabbing your wrists to bring you close. I couldn’t deny that it pained me when I went in to kiss you and you pushed me away.

There was confusion written all over my face, it was obvious, and you noticed.

“What the hell are you doing, Namjoon? Jimin is right outside and you can get in trouble if someone finds you in here.”

“I just wanted to talk to you. You - you have been acting weird ever since yesterday. I get it - just come over to my room tonight, yeah? Please? I have something I want to give you.”

You raised your brows. “Another plan B pill?

“Well, if I didn’t get it for you, you might as well could’ve been pregnant at this very moment. If you wanted to have my baby, you could have just said so.”

Would that really have been that bad?

“Don’t be an ass, dude.” With a huff and a roll of your eyes, you turned, making your way to the sink and pumping soap onto your hands. I followed just behind you and took you by the hips.

“Please?” My hands slithered lower and by the look of the reflection, I knew you were craving for more just as much as I was.

“O - okay. Fine. Just, let me go first or Jimin will realize what’s going on.”

“By all means,-“ I gestured with my hand. - ladies first.” And with a stolen kiss I smiled, seeing you walk away and no doubt, into the arms of my mortal enemy.

-

My leg shook with anticipation as I looked at the clock on my desk: 2:36AM. You said you’d be here, so where the hell were you? As soon as we got home from the theater, you said goodbye to Jimin and locked yourself inside your room. I knew because I knocked on your door multiple times before giving up and making my way to the little backyard home I resided in.

I huffed, landing with a thump on my bed, entertaining myself with the charm bracelet that was on my hand. My heart pounded once I heard two little knocks on my door and I instantly stood up and opened the door.

I smiled brightly once I saw you, dressed in a gray v-neck shirt and baby pink pajama pants with cupcakes cluttered on the cloth. “Hey, beautiful. What took you so long?”

You made your way in, taking a seat on my bed. “I took a nap.”

I chuckled and raised a brow. “You don’t take naps.”

Teasing, you replied, getting rid of your slippers and wrapping yourself around my blanket. “And how would you know that? Hm?”

I shrugged, “Through your window. You snore, do you know that?” I laughed out loud when you smacked me with my pillow, gasping with offense. “No I do not! You’re such a little liar!”

This could be our future.

Content and happiness, just you and I. Our home filled with laughs and quick witted banters. Couldn’t you see? We belonged together. I knew it the second I saw you.

“Here.”

My hand was out, presenting you the bracelet that I cherished as a part of me. My mother never took it off, from what I knew, she’d had it in her early teens and kept it since. You meant everything to me now, and it was yours to have.

“It’s beautiful Namjoon.” You gasped, sitting upright, stroking the charms.

“It was my mothers. I want you to have it.” I could see it in your eyes, you wanted to decline, but I wouldn’t allow it. “Please.”

I took a hold of your wrist, wrapping the jewelry around your carpus and connecting the clasp.

“Namjoon, I can -“

“Yes.” I pushed. “You can. I want you to have it. I have no purpose for it. It doesn’t fit and I’d rather it be used than to be locked inside a box without it ever seeing daylight again. Please? It would mean a lot to me.”

You eyed me for a few seconds then sighed. “Okay, fine. Thank you. I promise I’ll take great care of it.”

I didn’t doubt it for a second. You took me by surprise because like a flash of light, you engulfed me and kissed me with need. I didn’t hesitate to reciprocate. In seconds I wrapped you in my arms and our clothes were nonexistent - dropped on the floor in a haste to make ourselves whole.

I will never get enough of you. Your little gasp of pleasure made my tummy fill with extreme need as I entered you and held you close. It was intimate, our love making sounds resounding in my room. You cupped my face, gently stroking as if I wasn’t real and you wanted to verify if I was really there, making love to you.

“I’m here. I got you, sweetheart.”

And I was never letting you go.

-

The frantic 2AM call took me by surprise. It woke me from the deep slumber I was in, but the moment I saw your name on my screen, I didn’t hesitate to disconnect my phone from its charger and answer. I called your name in question and your distraught voice I heard next.

It was distressing, hysterical.

“Namjoon? I didn't know who else to call, but - but can you please come? I - I need your help, I don’t know what I di - he’s not fucking moving -he’s not answering i just pushed him and-

“Breathe, I’m on my way okay, just stay there. Don’t move.”

I don’t think I have ever sped the way I did making my way to you. As I parked my car on the side of the abandoned road, behind the white car with its hazards flashing bright, I knew something had happened.

Something terrible that you had done.

It wasn’t until I stepped out of my vehicle that I saw his limped body on the asphalt, a puddle of scarlet blood oozing from his head. You sat at his side with your knees inside your chest and with your frizzy hair at the front of your face, you looked up at me slowly. “He’s dead.”

-

I would’ve never thought I’d have to get rid of a dead body. A part of me felt disgusted as the monstrous act I had done devoured me whole, but I didn’t feel… guilt.

The immense jealousy that raged within me kept me from doing so. You met him, the bastard that made me cry after I made you mine for the first time, JiHoon, on a deserted road to enjoy hiding your dirty little secret: your adulterous little soul. I wished I understood why you felt the need to run into the arms of another when you had Jimin, you had me and god only knew how many others.

But even then, I still wanted you, through your imperfections and your need to want other men even though they caused me absolute agony. Good riddance to the bludgeoned man who crossed your path. He forced himself on you and there was only one way the night was going to end.

I’d done it to protect you, to keep you sane and perhaps even have you to myself.

The night bound us as one. A clandestine service that we would take to our deaths.

After I placed the cold corpse into my trunk, I took the tiny packet of white substance that laid on the concrete ground, and placed it inside my jeans. It was a good thing you both came in your car. There wouldn’t be any suspiciousness, hopefully, and we’d forget about this illicit night.

“Go home.” I said in seriousness, taking a hold of you by the nape of your hair. I was angry at you that I couldn’t even look you in the eye. “I’ll take care of him.”

You nodded and sniffled, cupping my hand and gently rubbed. “Thank you.”

And with a start of the engine, you raised your window up, and drove away.

-

“Namjoon!” Your mothers voice made my body jerk from surprise. I was on edge, it was human and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the situation I knew would take a while to get rid of. Your mother loved to talk.

“Hello.” I muttered with an empty smile. Your home smelled divine with the aroma of freshly made food, but I didn’t have an appetite. Who would?

“Will you join me today? My sweetheart of a daughter isn’t feeling too well. She came home reeking of god knows what and emptied her guts as soon as she stepped foot in the door.” With a shake of her head, she took a seat, gulping down the glass of wine in an instant.

If only she knew that her ‘sweetheart of a daughter’ wasn’t such a sweetheart after all. She had a dirty little secret and I was her accomplice.

“No. I apologize. I had a long night. I only wish to go to bed, if you do not mind.” I felt terrible for turning her down, but the only thought in my mind was to see you. To nurse you back to health even when I knew that you were traumatized by what you have done.

Your mother sighed and shrugged. “I understand. Have a good night.”

“Do you mind if I go see her? I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

She smiled. “Of course.”

I didn’t have to be told twice. My long legs took me there in seconds and as soon as I walked inside your bedroom, I took a seat beside you. You laid there on your side, your eyes red and swollen from the tears that were nonstop. “Can you lay with me, please?”

Who was I to not obey? I took you onto my chest, cupping your wet cheeks onto my hands. “Shh, baby. It’s okay.”

You muttered as you sobbed. “I - I’m sorry, I didn’t mea -“

“Shh, I know. You did nothing wrong, my love. But I want you to promise something, can you do that?”

You nodded. “You can’t speak to anyone about this, okay? No matter how much you want to. You weren’t there, do you hear me? I wasn’t there.”

Shakily, you breathed and nodded once again. “I understand.”

“But now you know why not to do such a thing, hm? It’s not okay. You’re lying to me, to Jimin all for what? You did something that you will never forgive yourself for, but I want you to know that I will do it all over again, for you. Do you understand?”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

—

After you slept like an angel wrapped around my arms, I left, not wanting your mom to come into your room and find us wrapped around each other.

I had trouble falling asleep, but soon thereafter, sleep found me and I slept soundly. I couldn’t believe I had. Ian hadn’t even crossed my mind. The scoundrel was six feet under and he’ll remain there where no one was to find him. Good riddance.

But you, you would never be the same. You were a murderer. An angel of death that brought a man to his knees for the simple act of crossing your path. And it seemed I was following the same path, I wasn’t dead, but when you would betray me, I would feel death dawn on me, getting closer and closer with every treachery you committed. But yet, you would bring me to cloud nine. How? I would never understand.

But I understood that I loved you. I love you like I have never loved anyone before. And though it suffocated me and drowned me, I always went back for more. I will always go back for more.

“Good morning.” I smiled, pecking the crown of your head as you sat with your legs crossed in the dining room, a fork at your fingertips, playing with the food on the plate. Your mother was gone, no doubt picking up an early shift at the local hospital, but as the doting mother that she was, she had left breakfast at the ready for you.

You gave me a tight lipped smile that made me frown. Your eyes were swollen, almost hollow when you looked at me. He was haunting your mind, his shadow following you, no doubt. But even when I knew, I had to ask. I couldn’t bear the thought of you in pain.

“How are you holding up?”

You shrugged, biting your lips. “I don’t know. Is it weird that I don’t know what I’m actually feeling? I can’t explain it, even though I really really want to.”

“It’s okay to feel that way. You went through something… traumatic, and you won’t bounce back from it as soon as possible. It takes time, but I promise as time continues, it’ll get easier.”

You eyed me. “How do you know that?”

You skeptical little, beautiful thing.

“…I am just placing myself in your shoes, I tend to do that in certain situations. Would you like more breakfast?”

You shook your head, taking one last bite of the egg before standing up. “No, thank you. I'm meeting with Jimin.”

You moved, making your way up the stairs as my jaw clenched in anger, and my words made you stop in your tracks. “Jimin, hm? I - I thought you were ending things with him.”

You turned with furrowed brows, “I never said that.” Will this be the first time I’d feel your fury towards me? It was obvious I’d pushed a button.

“No? I thought the night before might’ve been an answer to your actions. You no longer love him. You have proved it time and time again, have you not?”

“You don’t know shit, Namjoon. I love hi-“

I couldn’t help it, I was infuriated by your nonsense comment that you didn’t mean. “You’re cheating on him with me! You have multiple times. And don’t even get me started on the man that you killed last night because I’m sure you weren’t there only for the coke, or am I wrong? Hm? Why in the hell do you still go back to him!”

“Because I can, Namjoon. Because I can. And it’s none of your fucking business anyway!”

“Yesterday was my business. You had no one else to call because you don’t trust anyone. You trust me! Not Jimin, not even the friends you don’t have, not even your own mother!”

I struck a cord. I gasped when you hurled a glass cup my away and I only managed to move away immediately before it struck me.

“Fuck you, Namjoon! Fuck you!” And with that, you walked away, grabbing your keys from the bowl near the door and slamming the door with such force that it shook the walls.

I stood there paralyzed and it wasn’t until I noticed that my body was shivering with anger? With distress? I couldn’t tell, but I was crying. The tears fell freely after being locked inside for what seemed like years and with blurry vision, I grabbed the broom and picked up your mess that your temper had caused.

That’s what I started to do ever since I met you: pickup after you and the disarray you left behind, and perhaps even myself. You left me in shambles and before I knew it, I was on the ground, on my knees as my shoulders shook from the sobs that escaped my chest.

And there, on the ground, in the depths of hell I felt I was in, I knew you had dug your grave. I loved you with everything I had, but this couldn’t go on any longer.

You had made your choice and I couldn't change your mind.

If I can’t have you, then you will not have anybody else.

-

The anonymous tip came in at midnight. I could see the blinding blue lights coming from the front yard of your house even where I resided.

Three police vehicles made themselves welcome in your yard, and I only knew exactly what was happening. Your mothers voice was louder than usual, hysterical as the officers handcuffed you and declared you your rights, walking you out onto the awaiting SUV. I made myself known, asking with faux concern and holding your mother’s shoulders as she cried, almost wanting to drag herself over to you.

There were tears in your eyes once I finally looked at you. You knew it was me and I held absolute pride even when I truly felt for you. But there was something more important in my eyes that you instantly understood.

My menacing and threatening look in my gaze. I had your mother in my grasp and if you wanted to see her once again - behind bars of course, you’d do best to keep quiet about what I had done. What I did for YOU.

Did you really think I would’ve done such a thing for you without looking out for me? I knew exactly the type of person you were, but yet, I still fell for you deeply, like no else had done - like Jimin never did.

I knew where JiHoons’ body was placed, I knew absolutely everything, and I knew enough not to wipe away your DNA from his body, your hair that I took a hold of after I told you to go home when you murdered him in cold blood.

I placed you on such a high pedestal and I despised knowing that it took me such a long time to comprehend such a thing. But I still loved you so much.

The moment I set my sight on you, I viewed you as an angel fallen from above, a beautiful creature that did no wrong.

But you weren’t an angel.

You were my hell on earth. Though you brought me to such highs, you brought me to a low, and saddened mess. Your loyal puppeteer that you knew you could manipulate just as you wanted because you knew the hold you had on me.

But you made a mistake with me and though I loved you, you had a price to pay.

It’s what you deserved.

Much love.

- Kim Namjoon.

[idlebeks]

Fresh SVSSS Fic Recs

Lotus Seeds by Anonymous

Upon transmigrating into the body of a xianxia antagonist destined to die after being gruesomely tortured, Shen Yuan decides he won't give in to the demands of the System to meekly accept his fate. Instead, he runs away. (WIP)

High Mountain, How I Long by Minimalistless

Shen Qingqiu, after enduring his trial, is placed into Luo Binghe’s custody at Huan Hua Palace.

Tarnished Gold by Prim_the_Amazing

Becoming emperor of the cultivation world will start with a first step as small and basic as becoming Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace. For that, he must steal the position away from the current Head Disciple. Luo Binghe will sabotage, upstage, and completely and utterly best him.

The road to destroying everything and everyone who has ever wronged him, to becoming the highest ruler so that no one will ever have the right to control him ever again - it will start as simply as ruining Gongyi Xiao’s life.

Compared to everything else he’s already done, this should be easy.

-

Luo Binghe brings all his skills of cunning and brutality to bear on Gongyi Xiao, Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace Sect. It… doesn’t go too well for him.

prophets on hold by nex_et_nox

Luo Binghe led the charge in the trial against Shen Qingqiu in < Proud Immortal Demon Way >. By all rights, the concept of a trial shouldn’t even be a glimmer in anyone’s eye until Shen Qingqiu’s blackened lotus has crawled his way out of the hell Shen Qingqiu tossed him in.

So why is Shen Qingqiu wrapped in immortal binding cables and locked away in the Huan Hua Water Prison?! 

[or: Luo Binghe is precisely one (1) year late getting out of the Abyss. This does not put a halt on anyone else's plans.]

Starstruck by Camorra

His phone buzzes again and Shen Yuan scoops it up irritably. It’s another message from DemonHeart. DemonHeart: you seem to be a Luo Binghe fan DemonHeart: we can get you access to him Shen Yuan scowls. PeerlessCucumber: do I look like I was born yesterday? The response is instantaneous. A picture pops up on screen. Shen Yuan vaguely recognizes the woman that plays the drums, still in full stage makeup. Next to her, arm slung around her waist, is a face Shen Yuan would know anywhere. Luo Binghe, giving a wry smile to the camera. DemonHeart: he’s a fan, you know PeerlessCucumber: where exactly would we be meeting

Immortal Lamb Crusader Way by Mikkeneko Shen Yuan finds himself transmigrated into the last video game he played before his death -- the dungeon-delving, cult-building anthro hit game of the year, Immortal Lamb Crusader Way. Much to his dismay he finds himself in the role of the BBEG, the God of Death, He Who Waits -- Shen Qingqiu! Is there any way he can guide the protagonist, Luo Binghe, to level-up and victory without falling victim himself to the Lamb Crusader's blade? And why does he want to pet the Lamb's fleecy head so badly? He's not a furry, okay! He's not!

The Scum Villain's Second Save File by the-night-gods-moon (HelloMyNameIsAlias)

Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua's shroom scheme falls through in a big way, and Shen Yuan is forced to re-transmigrate into another world that revolves around half-demons and messy, convoluted romances. Good thing he's an expert!

Can't we just skip to the end? by chaoticgoodlawyer When it was all said and done, Shen Qingqiu comforted himself that the end of the plot meant that, surely, all major events were out of the way. They were firmly in HEA territory and he could relax a little. Right? Right. A year and a half into his marriage to the protagonist, he cursed himself for a fool when he woke next to a Luo Binghe from ten years in the past. Meanwhile, a recently transmigrated Shen Yuan struggled to retain what little face he had when confronted with an overgrown, disturbingly gorgeous demon lord claiming to be his husband. Which is impossible, because he’s straight, the most hetero heterosexual to exist. System? A little help here?? Series

Celestial Afterglow by elanor_pamShang Qinghua, also known as Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky, stared flatly at what had once been a field boasting near sect-level Feng Shui alignment, and the drowned, bloated remains of the Sun and Moon Dew Flower cuttings that had sprouted within it. Their plan was now quite literally a wash. If only he could consult Cucumber Bro on how to save Cucumber Bro! But in the absence of Cucumber Bro, he could but rely on the one plot coupon the infamous Peerless Cucumber had ever applauded.

Tongfang by The Feels Whale (miscellea)

Shen Yuan is reincarnated as a cannon fodder character and eventual murder victim in one of the whodunnit arcs in Proud Immortal Demon Way. Things escalate quickly. Or: that one where young Luo Binghe’s career goal is ‘Bride’. --- Shen Yuan shut his eyes as a young man waiting to die in a hospital and opened them again as a wrinkly infant covered in substances best left unimagined. [Welcome to the System! The System is based on the concept ‘YOU CAN YOU UP. NO CAN NO BB.’ We hope to provide you with a rewarding experience. It is our sincere hope that during the course of your adventure, you can achieve your desire to transform a ‘Stupid Novel’ into a high-end and impressive classic. We pray for your happiness,] a mechanical and inflectionless voice announced over the general hubbub of the group of women handling him. Then it added, somewhat more worryingly, [Error.]

In Service by x_los

Emperor Luo Binghe goes looking for a Shen Yuan of his own. The one he finds has yet to fully ripen, but Luo Binghe is used to turning adversity into advantage.

[eflen-n-reegee]

Memories of an Imaginary Friend (An ‘Inside Out’ Regression Fic

On the anniversary of Bing Bong’s passing, Joy regresses to a very young age. Suggested by Anon.

~~~~~~~~

No one else understood; that was the problem. The others hadn’t seen him in years, and even Sadness hadn’t SEEN him… vanish.

(Joy couldn’t quite make herself admit that he had died; he must still exist somewhere, somehow, maybe…)

Maybe that was why she was at the console at four in the morning, trying - desperately - to call up memories of him. They still had to be there, somewhere, in Riley’s mind. They HAD to be; they’d been best friends!

But everything was either faded beyond recognition, or completely unavailable. Nothing was usable. Nothing would jog Riley’s memory.

Nothing would bring Bing Bong back.

When the other emotions came into the console room, they found Joy crying on the floor, surrounded by gray memories. Sadness ran to her side and touched her shoulder, then sat down and pulled Joy onto her lap. “She’s regressed.”

Anger whistled softly. “She’s never been this upset before. What d’ya think happened?”

Fear picked up one of the memory orbs, peering at it closely. “Is that… Bing Bong?”

Sadness gasped in understanding. “Today’s the anniversary of when he…” Her voice trailed off and she hugged the bawling Joy a little tighter. “I knew she’d be upset, but I didn’t think it would hit her so hard.”

Disgust looked over a few of the scattered memories. “He’s in all of them. I think she was trying to make Riley remember.”

Sadness sighed. “Joy, sweetie… Bing Bong can’t come back.”

Joy gave a wordless wail and buried her face in Sadness’s shoulder.

Fear started gathering up the faded memories and sending them back to Long Term. “How long do you think she was out here?”

“Could’ve been hours,” Disgust murmured, pulling out the box of regression gear. “Here, Sadness, let’s wrap her up.”

Sadness gently laid Joy down on the fleecy blanket Disgust had produced and wrapped it tightly around the regressed emotion. Joy was still sobbing, but she didn’t try to fight against the fabric.

Once Joy was swaddled, Anger picked her up and carried her to the couch. “She could probably do with some food,” he said, glancing at Fear.

The emotion nodded. “I’ll get her some peaches, those always cheer her up.”

Anger nodded, gently wiping Joy’s cheek with his thumb. “Hey, squirt,” he cooed softly. “It’s a hard day for you, huh?”

Joy whimpered, curling closer.

“Yeah, I know. He was a pretty good friend, huh? Remember how he used to make the best mud pies?”

Now she nodded, chewing on her finger.

“And he was always around when the night light went out,” Fear continued, sitting down and offering Joy a small chunk of peach. “He never let Riley be alone in the dark.”

Joy accepted the piece of fruit, her tears slowing down.

“He always made her laugh,” Disgust said softly, gently wiping juice from Joy’s chin. “No matter how crabby she was.”

“He loved her,” Sadness added. “And we loved him.”

Joy gave a slow, shuddering sigh as she finally stopped crying. She still wanted him back, still flinched when she thought of him fading away, but…

Maybe the others DID understand. Maybe she wasn’t the only one missing him. 

“Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean WE’VE forgotten,” Sadness said gently.

And Joy nodded, very slightly.

Fear smiled, offering her another peach chunk. Joy opened her mouth eagerly. Anger continued to balance her on his lap, occasionally tickling her neck. Disgust and Sadness went to the console, peeking over their shoulders periodically to make sure things were okay. Everyone was a little bit subdued, a little bit blue, but… that was okay. That just meant it was true.

They hadn’t forgotten.

[clatoera]

Picket Fence is Sharp as Knives Chapter 11: When You Can't Sleep at Night, You'll Hear My Stolen Lullaby

Heeeey besties. It has been more than a minute. I work eighty hours a week. Please take pity on me. If you are still here, still reading, wow I love you and I thank you deeply.

This chapter doesn't have a strong plot, it is just about my favorite things. Mamas and their babies.

A huge shoutout to @districtonekisses who has had conversations about explicitly stuff in this fic with me again and again, I love you and owe you cashbaria content soon I promise.

As always @kentwells my beloved, has been keeping my clato thoughts FED in my DMs to keep me moving through this shitty work schedule I have.

@bodyelectric77 you just have to get tagged at this point im so sorry.

Anyway!

Title from T-swift My tears ricochet

masterpost

AO3

He does not fit in the space from her knees to her hips anymore. His body can no longer fit comfortably resting on the short length of her thighs, where she could prop up her knees and take the time to memorize the details of her son in the middle of the night. Really, he never fit there to begin with. His legs would be scrunched up, and if he extended them he gave her an impressively strong kick for such a little person.  

Now, though, months and months into his life, Clove could not even pretend that he still fit in her lap.

Her arms, though, oh her arms were another story entirely. 

It was all part of her carefully crafted nightly facade, one she had been orchestrating for the last six months, for the entire duration of her time as a mother. 

It went the same way every night. Cato would hand her the baby in his little hooded bath towel, all wet eyelashes and big blue eyes staring at her as his little baby hands just reached for her almost as quickly as she’d reach back for him. She’d absolutely insist she was just going to get him to sleep, then she’d be back to bed. Yet, every single night she’d end up padding across the short distance from his room to their own with him firmly asleep in her arms. She always insists that it is just simpler if he is with them, because really, where in the whole world could he be safer than between the people who brought him into it.  Cato always knew his part too, when he’d wordlessly just take the baby back from her so she could get into bed. That is exactly where his son would sleep, right there on his chest and in his arms, until hours into the night when the first slight noise he made had Clove pulling him over into her arms. They’d wordlessly, barely even consciously, pass him back and forth throughout the entire duration of the night. Neither mention it. Neither question it. It is their unspoken, unquestioned agreement. 

(Neither want to admit just how scared they are at the thought of him being anywhere but between them)

This is part two of that routine, where Clove and her son sit curled up in the corner of his bedroom, her knees tucked under her as she rocks with him in the oversized (for her, at least) recliner. She’s got him in the crook of her left arm, though her right hand comes around to brush her fingers over his still damp blonde hair on his head, her thumb coming to caress his full little cheek. They share the same fleecy blue blanket that she wraps around her own shoulders and covers her arms in, so that he too is protected from any sting of his first District Two winter that bites outside the window. 

Not that there was any real risk of feeling a winter sting; from the blanket to his mother’s arms to the little blue sleeper the color of his eyes to the well heated house that his father endures for the sake of his mother- he was never going to be cold. 

Cold he is not. Awake, however, he is. 

“You gotta go to sleep, sweetheart, come on..” Clove whispers, though there's a softness in her voice that is reserved for this little boy and this little boy alone.  “You had such a busy day, you have to be sleepy.�� 

Busy is a bold descriptor, but he did have an exciting day for a six month old. The first real layer of snow had finally covered the District last night, an uncharacteristically late start in February. Cato had been nothing short of insistent that he got to take the baby out today. Even Clove, who watched from the warmth of the kitchen window, couldn’t look away from the identical smiles of her boys and the sweet baby giggles coming from her son. There was something about the way Cato dipped this baby down into the ground to toe at the snow, and the way he pulled his little feet up in delighted response, that made Clove almost want to brave the cold for them, too. 

Still, the day of discovery did not seem to make a dent in the energy level of Atlas Hadley, who was contently playing with the thin strap of Clove’s shirt, an entire little fist wrapped around the fabric. She shifts, just a little, so that he is less facing into her and more looking up at the rest of the room. She catches one of his hands, and brings it up to her lips to kiss his closed fist, which earns her the biggest, widest smile from the blond boy in her arms. 

And God, when he looks at her with the biggest, widest blue eyes in the world, as if she herself hung the stars in the sky? The only thing she can wonder is how the fuck she deserves him. 

She finds herself humming to him often, and now is no exception. She never full on sings, and she never will, but there's something just..instinctual about how simply it falls from her. She isn’t even sure where she learned it. Normally it works, too. A few minutes of humming and rocking in this chair and he was out, usually with his little cheek pressed flush against her skin. 

It’s always the same song, too, oddly enough. It just flows. She isn’t even sure where she heard it or picked it up from– probably Glimmer– but it does the job. 

Most nights, at least. 

Now, though, she’s still got those sky colored eyes just absolutely staring up at her, like something is so captivating he can’t bear to close his eyes and miss a moment.

“Whatcha looking at? Do you see the snow?” Clove twists her neck to look backwards, trying to glance over her shoulder out the window to see what could possibly be so enticing to her baby. It’s just a dark sky, not even moonlight within frame to have him so entranced.

 When she’s glancing out, beyond what her baby could see, she can see the thick blanket of snow draped over the trees and landscape. It’s involuntary, the chill that goes through her, when she sees the eerie stillness of snow in the darkness. 

She doesn’t mean to stretch out her fingers, rolling them out as if she is trying to keep them mobile and warm. She can’t help but do her best to wrap her little hands around her son, somehow managing to pull him closer as if she herself will be the final defense between him and an icy, frozen arena. 

It’s been what? Five..Six..Seven years since her games? Nearly a decade and that biting cold feeling just cannot leave her. 

“There’s no snow falling, what do you see, my love?” Clove tries again, this time shifting him in her arms so that his head is resting on her chest rather than her arms, hoping to distract him from whatever was keeping him so alert. 

Still, Atlas twists his little face so that he can still see hers, blinking up at her with the same lovey expression as before. She makes a confused face at him, eyebrows pinching together,  but just wraps her arms tighter, holding them both deeper in the warm embrace of their blanket. 

“I can’t blame him, all he wants to see is you.” Cato points out from where he now rests in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed over the expanse of his bare chest. “I wouldn’t want to go to sleep either, if my other option was looking at you.” 

“And what are you staring at now, Cato?” Clove teases, letting one hand come to the back of her son’s head and strum rhythmic little circles over his hair. “You know you’re going to distract him..”

“Don’t mind me, I’m just admiring my work is all.” Cato grins, raking his eyes over Clove in the corner of the room, so effortlessly curled up around their only child. 

Clove, who was once a feral little girl with knives hidden in her socks, now just so delightfully different while maintaining everything that made him love her. 

“...your work? You’re admiring your work?” Clove raises a dark eyebrow, though her expression twists into something toeing the line between annoyance and adoration, an expression Cato knows all too well. 

“Hell yeah this is my work.” Cato gestures to the two of them with one hand and the most smug smile on his pretty face. “I did  make all of this happen so…my work.”

“You’re the worst sometimes,” Clove rolls her eyes, but doesn’t stop the rhythmic rocking of her son in her arms. “It’s our work, thank you very much.”

“Some of our best, honestly.” He agrees, but uses the arm that was reaching out to them to gesture back towards himself. “C’mere. I’m lonely across the hall.”

“He isn’t asleep yet..” She sighs, shaking her head lightly. “He’s got a staring problem like his dad.”

“Can’t blame the kid.” He holds out his other arm as he crosses the distance between them. “Hold on to him.”

“What are you-”

He slips one arm under her legs and the other behind her shoulders, “Just hold him. We’re going to bed.” Cato instructs, before he’s got her scooped up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a baby herself. 

“Cato! Be careful!” She shrieked, but curled into his chest as she had done thousands and thousands of times in her life. 

“You act like I’ve ever dropped you.”

_____________________________________________________________

“No mama, no sleepy.” Stella Sanford shakes her little head, blonde ringlet curls brushing over her pajama clad shoulders with every move. Regardless of her pouting, and boy does she know how to tilt her little lips into a pout, she flops into her usual bedtime position with her head on her mother’s right arm. 

“Yes, Stella, you have to go to sleep. You can’t wake up for your birthday if you don’t go to sleep first.” Glimmer tries softly, bringing her arm up to wrap around Stella, twisting her fingers through the ends of her soft baby blonde hair. She’d remain here until Marvel came upstairs, when she’d effortlessly roll right into his arms for the rest of the night. A baby for each of them to hold– well, toddlers now. “And Sissy’s already sleeping, she’s going to get to have her birthday too…”

“No sleepy,” Comes from the muffled voice of Aurelia on her chest, who doesn’t even lift her head to see her mother or her twin sister, instead keeping her face buried in her favorite pink blanket the three of them fell asleep under every night. “Sing song, mama?”

“You already got your sing song, baby.”  She soothes, brushing her hand over the back of her baby soft pajamas, the tips of her fingers tracing the tiniest little shapes on the top of her back. “And your story, and another book, and your kisses..”

“P-eeease, mama?” Stella flutters her long eyelashes at her mother, resting her chin right on her chest next to her twin. “one sing song.”

“One sing song.” Aurelia chimes in, one of her little hands escaping her blankets and coming up to touch her mother’s face gently. “Pease?”

Glimmer audibly sighs, grabbing Aurelia’s little hand and kissing her open palm, using her other hand to pull Stella closer. They’re just her babies, babies who were two years old as of early tomorrow morning, how could she tell them no? 

Especially now, when the days of them holding onto her and sleeping in her arms are slipping away so quickly? 

“What sing song do you want? You can’t have the birthday one until tomorrow-”

“No words sing song.” Aurelia explains, twisting a hundred and eighty degrees in her mother’s arms so that she can face her sister now too. 

“...no words…baby, that's not a song?” Glimmer tries, taking the opportunity  to spread their pink blanket out over the three of them, now equally covering both Stella and Aurelia where they would sleep until Marvel was done with birthday set up. 

“No words sing song!” Stella agrees with an enthusiastic nod, her little nose scrunching up with her smile in an expression she most definitely did not inherit from her mother. “Like this!” 

Glimmer watches with a bemused smile as Stella tries to demonstrate her request, with little furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips. It’s adorable, almost to the point that Glimmer forgets her girl is trying to show her something. 

“...oh you want me to hum you a song? That’s not singing, silly girlies.” 

“Hum song.” Stella outright demands this time, resting her little hands on her chin expectantly. “Do the hum song, mama.”

“...the hum song?” Glimmer mumbles, trying to rack through her brain for whatever specific song they mean. There’s the one that comes to mind, though she isn’t sure why or where she learned it. Then again, there aren’t words, it’s only a hummable song. 

“Okay. I’ll do the hum  song, but you gotta cloooose your eyes.” Glimmer instructs, moving her arms intentionally so that they are both individually cradled in an arm, although they are far bigger than the infant babies she brought home in this position two years ago.

 “Goodnight Aurelia-” She starts, leaning down to kiss the top of her far more reserved child’s head, her lips lingering for just a moment as she soaks in the time she gets to share alone with them. “Goodnight Stella..I love you both so so much.” 

“Nigh-nigh mama, loves you” Stella announces contentedly, curling up into her mother’s side dutifully, before peaking one green eye up and over at her sister. “Nigh-nigh sissy.”

“Night-night sissy.” Aurelia declares, wiggling her little pink nails (an early birthday fun day gift from Auntie Cashy) out for Stella’s matching ones (and match Cashmere and Glimmer’s, too of course). “Love mama.”

As she hums to her girls, Glimmer watches closely. She notices how Stella’s hand reaches up to hold on to Aurelia’s, and her heart catches in her throat. She can’t help but remember the very first time she held the two of them together, how her girls who never knew anything but each other, reached only for each other within the first moments of their lives. She was not a twin herself, but there was something otherworldly about the bond between her children, beyond anything she’d ever get to know. Even now, almost two years to the day since they were born, they still fall asleep every night holding each other’s little hands. As it was right now, it was almost always intentional. Just two halves of the same soul, always reaching for the piece that completes them.

Glimmer never takes advantage of how lucky she is to have the children that she does, what a miracle it is that she gets to be their mother. 

She never forgets just how deeply loved her daughters are, by so many people beyond herself, either. 

Now, for example. Her sister and brother were adamantly downstairs helping her husband decorate for the girl’s second birthday, with no fewer than 730 pastel balloons to blow up and intentionally place around the first floor. It is arguably the least sexy, most unromantic way for her sister to spend the eve of Valentine's day, something Cashmere most definitely would point out to her later. Fortunately the seven pm bedtime of the twins meant they would be finished decorating before Cashmere was even due to start her skincare. 

The point being, Cashmere and Gloss didn’t have to be here. These twins are not their children, they have no responsibility to them, and yet here they are. 

Not to forget that Marvel, the sweet sweet man that he is, would most certainly come up with a gift for her. Claiming that, yes it was the girls’ birthday, but it was her who physically birthed them into the world and that she deserved as much recognition as they did. 

There's something remarkable about him as a husband and as a father that almost, just almost, makes her think about risking a boy for just one more child to watch him raise. While she likes to think that she was born to be a mother, it cannot be denied that he wanted those girls just as badly as she did. 

She can physically feel Aurelia fall asleep on top of her, when any tension in her little body just releases at once and she fully gives into the embrace of her mother. Stella never takes long after Aurelia, though it is far more subtle to hear her breathing pattern even out so distinctly.

Two entire years of this being her life, two years of big green eyes staring at her, two years of “mama” in high pitched little voices, two years of little humans who trusted her for everything they could ever need. 

She isn’t sure she’ll ever get used to this being her real life, as if she will ever accept it as anything more than the dream it feels like. 

It’s unbelievable to her, that this is the life she gets to live.That somehow, after everything, she has been granted this chance. It feels beyond a dream to have one daughter who prefers strawberry jelly over grape, or another daughter who cries if her bubbles in her bathtub pop. What a privilege it is to sort little socks embroidered with A’s and S’s, to have two of every set of pajamas and every tutu. 

It’s nothing short of a dream, nothing short of a miracle, that Glimmer even survived long enough to be a mother at all. 

Marvel moves so quietly that she doesn’t even hear him come into the room, and is only alerted to his presence by the shift of the other side of the bed when he sits on their shared bed.

She pauses her mindless humming, glancing up over at him with a soft smile on her face. She notices something speckled on the thin fabric of his white shirt, but pays very little attention to it as he so carefully slides into bed beside her with a well practiced agility that only comes from long dedication to not waking the girls with a shift in the mattress. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” He defends, leaning over oh so carefully to kiss her on the cheek without disturbing the freshly sleeping toddlers in her arms. “Balloons, streamers, and the special birthday plates are set up. Your sister did tell me I’m ruining her valentines day because I said she couldn’t come wake them up to give them their first present. She’ll get over it.”

Glimmer gives him the softest smile as his hands thread under Stella, expertly pulling her to his side of the bed where she would sleep incredibly soundly for the rest of the night . As if to illustrate her thoughts, her baby curled right up against her father, burying her face in the fabric of his shirt. She’s paying such close attention there to his side, that it dawns on her exactly what the speckles on his shirt are. 

She reaches out to grab the white fabric, and the deep maroon blossoming along his side confirms exactly what she suspected. “Are you….bleeding?!” 

“Oh! Yeah! It’s nothing! Just your brother and the staple gun! No harm done!” Marvel brushes off, grabbing the free edge of the pink blanket and dragging it over him too. He offers her a comforting smile, grabbing at her hand. “Hey. Glim. I’m fine. Seriously. Your brother started thinking a bit too much about why we were decorating and how the girls came to be, and you know how he gets! He’s just..protective of you. He’ll get over it one day. Or he won’t, and he’ll try to kill me one day a year every year for the next twenty. Either way, I can take it. And probably deserve it a little.”

“He does not get to hurt you,” Glimmer warns, shaking her head in firm but loving disapproval. “I’m a big girl, and I made my decision. And I would make that choice over and over and over again. And I will remind him of that tomorrow.” She shifts closer, as far as she can without the risk of waking Aurelia in her arms. “They don’t get to act like they’re number one aunt and uncle and then act like that towards you. It’s infuriating” She mumbles, taking the chance to move just a few inches closer, unable to fully close the gap between them. “You don’t deserve that.”

“It’s okay, Glimmer, I can take it. They don’t mean anything by it. Besides…maybe they’re just jealous.”  He does his part to shift closer  too, leaving just enough space between them for the girls to move to. “‘Cause I got two of these,” he gestures to the sleeping twins, pulling Stella up to sleep on his chest, mirroring Aurelia on her mother’s. “And they don’t have any. And I get a you, Glimmer. They can say whatever they want, because really, I won.”

“Yeah, well, my sister doesn’t pay attention to anything but her own reflection, and my brother is her lapdog. I wouldn’t want to be them, either.” 

“Especially not Cashmere, she’s got Enobaria with those teeth-” Marvel jokes, earning him a little nudge from Glimmer. 

“God don’t bring that up, there are some things I don’t need to picture–”

“Hey, that’s just mentally picturing. I have actual proof of the things I've done with their sister.” He teases, pointing between the sleeping blondes in their arms. “We don’t need them to like it. We just need them to help blow up balloons once a year. They like the girls, that’s what matters.”

Glimmer feels like her heart physically hurts in the center of her chest, when she looks up and sees the way he just looks at her with such love and dedication in those blue eyes. Blue eyes she wishes were reflected in one of her daughters, sometimes, if for no other reason than how much she selfishly loves them. “....I love you.”

“I love me, too.” Marvel teases, before catching her face in his hand. “I love you, more than anything. And I’m really glad we accidentally pulled off this two for one special thing, because we have really, really cool kids.” 

And for all the anxiety, the uncertainty, the discomfort, the stress, and the downright fear that came with the time leading up to the birth of her children… she wouldn’t have it any other way. After it all.. she’d go through every single moment all over again if she meant she held her daughters at the end of it. “...they’re the best.” 

“You’re the best.” He promises, finally just slipping his arm around her hips and pulling her closer, damned with keeping space for now. He pauses, and shakes his head for a moment as if he just remembered something. “That song you were humming when I came in..they ask for the no words sing song alllll the time…where the hell did that even come from?”

“Absolutely no idea.”

_______________________________________________

“Good morning.”  Glimmer’s raspy, sleep-addled voice in the doorway would have jolted Clove awake had it not been for the fact she had already been wide awake the majority of the night and into the early morning. She stands in the doorway with hair in two frizzy braids that are passively untwisting and oversized sweatshirt with sleeves that cover her hands, and the way she is rubbing at her eyes with said sleeves make her look nothing short of an oversized toddler coming to her mother for comfort in the middle of the night. 

Except Glimmer is a twenty five year old woman and Clove is not her mother. 

“Can I get in bed?” Glimmer murmurs, though it is nothing more than a formality as she is already pulling up the comforter on the opposite end of the bed from Clove and sliding one leg in. “Ew, this is Cato’s side, I don’t want to lay in these sheets, I know what goes on here-” She scrunches up her nose, but plops her head down on his pillow anyway.

“The sheets are clean-ish. Nothing is going down in this bed for a long fucking time. Fuck, what time is it–” She twists her head to look over at Glimmer, who is making herself plenty comfortable in Clove’s bed. Clove on the other hand is half sitting, half leaning, with her neck just slightly propped up by the pillows. Most importantly is her baby, all of five (six, now) days old, scrunched up on her chest, but incredibly safe and protected in the arms of his mother. She ceases her humming, some old song she can’t seem to get out of her head, before stifling her own yawn into her son’s hair. “What are you doing here? Did Cato send you to come babysit me?”

“It’s five forty two in the morning. Five forty five is the morning workout start time for you district two psychopaths apparently. Enobaria and Brutus are downstairs with Cato, they’re going down to the basement.” Glimmer stifles a yawn with the edge of the blanket, rolling onto her right side so that she is facing Clove, though her eyes are barely even half open to support her argument that she’s awake. “Huh? No it wasn’t Cato. I’m not even babysitting you per say–just keeping you company while everyone else works out- okay, Enobaria came into my room and pulled me out of bed by my ankle and said I had to come sit with you. Not that I mind!”

“Do they think i’m a fucking baby and can’t watch myself?” Clove snaps, wiggling so that she too is laying flat on her back next to Glimmer. It had been six days– how the hell was she going to do this for eighteen years- and the lack of sleep had gotten to her. It’s not a foreign sensation, they had deprived them of sleep plenty of times during games training and even at the hands of Snow in the capitol…but back then the only person she had to keep alive was herself. Not a whole new needy, helpless human being. “What do they think I'm going to do? Throw him at a target to strengthen my arm?”

“I think they’re more worried about you trying to workout six days after you had a baby come out of you. “ Glimmer explains, stifling yet another yawn into her borrowed pillow. “Not that i’m saying you would-”

“Fuck, Glim, I’m not working out. I can barely walk, it feels like he literally ripped me in half and he might have! I don’t know! I don’t care to find out! I’m pretty sure I'm literally stitched back together!” Clove shakes her head quickly, blinking back the wet feeling in her eyes she doesn’t know whether to attribute to exhaustion or hormonal instability. “...Glimmer everything hurts. It hurts and I can’t do anything and all I do is lay in this bed with this baby and try to pretend that everything is fine but Glimmer it hurts.” 

Glimmer takes the moment to prop herself up on her elbow, recognizing the need to feel more present for her friend. “...of course it hurts, Clove. He’s huge. You are not. It hurts even when they’re little.”

“Yeah, well you had two at the same time, of course that hurt,” Clove insists, but uses the chance to pull her son up closer to her face, where she can continue to place kisses on his head and try to keep him asleep. “It hurts and I can’t tell Cato that because he’ll absolutely freak out or think i’m dramatic or something and I just don’t need that right now-”

“Clove..do you think he doesn’t know? Like he’s dumb but he isn’t that dumb.” Glimmer tries, giving just the slightest eye roll. “He’s constantly worried about you. He texted Marvel seventeen –and I counted– times the day you had the baby telling him he was afraid you were going to die, Clove. He’s stupid but he absolutely can read you like a book.”

“Yeah, well I thought I was dying too, Glimmer!”  She bites back, tension and something else crawling into her tone. “I’ve been in multiple near death experiences, and you know what, it was the only time I had ever actually been scared of it!” 

“But you didn’t! And he’s here and he’s okay and you are okay. You deserve to take care of yourself, too, Clove. I know he’s important and all, but so are you…”

“I am taking care of myself, clearly I'm laying up here in bed all useless while everyone else gets to go actually do something for themselves. And God, Glimmer, this baby wakes up all night and he’s already asleep on me so I just take care of him and I love him and I wouldn’t change a thing but I look at Cato who looks so fucking peaceful and well rested and I want to kill him.” Clove’s breathing and speaking speeds up as she rambles, borderline pushing herself to a meltdown. “I love him. He offers to get up with me, and he does, but he’s just…useless to this baby right now. So he sits up and stares at me as his version of moral support. But it isn’t helping!”

“Oh! Absolutely! I remember one time I woke up in the middle of the night, and I was so tired, and I looked down and I had Stella in one arm and Aurelia in the other and I looked over and Marvel was just..out. And all I wanted was to just slit his throat. After that I started making him wake up all night, too. Which…they’re pretty useless but it makes you feel less alone. You’re the only person in the world who can take care of that baby, Clove, and it’s lonely and it’s hard but when he’s like a year old and all he wants is you, it’s the best feeling in the world”  Glimmer sits up just a little, holding both her hands out and making a gesture towards herself. “Give me the baby.”

“What? No, he’s fine–” Clove shakes her head rapidly, both her hands wrapping around his little back, holding him somehow closer to herself. 

“Clove. You’re exhausted. More than I’ve ever seen you, and that's saying something, considering we literally went through Hunger Games together. You came back from literal capital torture looking less tired. Give me the baby.”  She once again waves both hands towards herself. “Do you trust me?”

“Well yeah of course I trust you, it’s just not your job to take him.” Clove insists, shaking her head firmly, but glances sideways down at her baby. “It’s my responsibility to take care of him.”

“Clove. Give me the baby. I swear I won’t leave this bed. Give me this baby and take a nap.” Glimmer all but demands, shuffling her body to sit up a little more properly. She shoves her hands closer to the baby, patiently waiting in that position. “Let me help you. It’s what I'm here for.”

“You’re here so I don’t go try to do a sit up.” Clove hesitates, but finally acquiesced and slides her fingers under her son’s chest, lifting her son so that she can look at his sleepy face before gently hovering him closer to Glimmer. 

“You don’t have the core strength for a sit up right now, who are you kidding.” Glimmer flashes the baby a bright smile, all but abandoning her exhaustion as she pulls him into her arms. “Hey little buddy!” She coos at him, holding his head in one hand and his body with the length of her opposite arm. “You’re still such a cutie, even though you look like your dad!” 

Clove somehow looks both visibly more tense as she rolls on her side to face Glimmer, and also more relaxed at the same time. “He’s got a cute dad, of course he’s cute.” 

“Isn’t it annoying that you did all the work and he looks like him though?” She points out, gently shushing the baby as she bounces him just slightly in her arms. “I wouldn’t know what that’s like, obviously.”

“I wouldn't want him any other way.” She half mumbles, reaching her top hand up to hold on to his little body, despite the fact Glimmer is plenty capable of taking care of him. She sees the skeptical look from Glimmer, and gives her a tired half-scowl. “Leave me alone, I’ve been touching him in some way for like..ten months.”

“You’re just so maternal it’s cute.”  Glimmer grins, wiggling down so that she is laying more parallel to Clove. “He’s safe, Clove. I’ll wake you if he needs you. I promise.” 

Clove rolls her eyes to make a point, but her eyes do not bother re-opening for Glimmer to notice. 

Glimmer of course notices, particularly when Clove’s hand goes fully limp on top of the baby. She laughs to herself, never out loud in fear of waking Clove who barely wants to sleep as is, as Clove slips in and out of deep sleep, occasionally humming something over and over even while unconscious. 

“You’ve got a good mama, Atlas. Be good for her, okay?” Glimmer whispers to the tiny blond boy– okay, not tiny in compared to the actual tiny babies she herself made. “Your dad though, you can scream at him all you want.”

This is how Cato finds them an hour later, when he comes up stairs and sees Glimmer in his bed. Clove’s practically curled up in Glimmer’s side, her hand resting on top of the baby, though otherwise she is dead to the world.  

“Go home, Blondie, you’re in my spot.” Cato demands, holding a low-slung towel on his hips, nodding his head towards the door. “And don’t get any ideas about taking my kid with you.”

“Jealous, I'm in bed with your wife?” Glimmer taunts, but gives a firm shake of her head. “You can have her back after you make me breakfast, as a ‘sorry you had to come over at 5 am’ treat.”

“You act like you mind it. You’re getting to hold a new baby without any responsibilities.” Cato runs a hand through his wet hair, before dragging it down the side of his face. He struggles to get out the words ‘thank you,’ but it’s understood when he rubs at the back of his neck and asks. “Do you want me to wake Marvel to make waffles or wake Marvel to make french toast.”

“Mmm, I was actually hoping for an egg white omelet?” Glimmer scrunches her nose in a semi pout, sticking out her bottom lip playfully. 

“Can he make that?”

“Absolutely not.” 

“Great. He’s making french toast then.”

It becomes a daily pattern for the next month and a half. 

______________________________________________________

It is literal years before anyone thinks about the song for more than a few seconds, other than long enough to remember to start singing it. 

“Did you learn that song from Cashmere?” Clove asks from her spot at the kitchen island, sitting on her barstool as she stirs a bowl of ice cream and sprinkles in her hand. It had been her favorite treat for the duration of her second– and final– pregnancy, but usually she had a blonde boy breathing down her neck for a bite. She takes the moment to enjoy her snack in peace– without her husband or toddler demanding she share with the same pouty face and wide blue eyes.

Sometimes she felt like she married a child and then went and made him an identical, miniature version of himself to be his new best friend. 

Enobaria crinkles her eyebrows, her face twisting from bemusement at the dark haired little girl in her arms, to actual irritation. “Did you lose your mind when this one came out?” She holds up the tiny baby girl, swimming in the little sleeper that her brother once barely fit in, as if for emphasis. “She’s been here for three days, you can’t blame her anymore.”

Three days which Enobaria has had to hear every night from Cashmere on the phone back in District One, are the longest three days she’s had in years. 

Enobaria couldn’t leave her brand new three day old niece any faster than Cashmere was willing to leave her ten day old one.

“What! I learned it from Glimmer I think. I dunno. It always puts Atlas to sleep, Sevina doesn’t seem to care about it yet.” Clove shrugs, glancing past Enobaria to catch a glimpse of her two year old son, being chased around the pool by his father. “I just assumed if I learned it from her, you learned it from Cash too-”

“Clove, that song is old District Two. I’m talking before the first war level old.” Enobaria explains, before her attention is brought right back down to the tiny girl in her arms. She never knew Clove at this age, but she can’t stop herself from wondering if this was exactly what it had been like to hold her. 

“How would I know it then?”

 “Because you were once a toddler who didn’t sleep and I was a desperate teenager.”

[quidnunc-life]

ten! first! lines!

@leenik-geelo tagged me to post first lines from ten of my fics! let's go!

There were lots of good things about being a private investigator: working whatever hours you wanted, indulging the overly nosy aspect of human nature, having reason to purchase fantastic trench coats. (letting me in or letting me go)

“It’s going to rain,” she tells him, apropos of nothing. It’s May in Omsk, utterly picturesque, blue sky and fleecy clouds and the river Irtysh throwing dappled sunlight in every direction. Even the back alley he has her cornered is positively scenic, as far as alleys go. (all the magic i have known)

It’s 11:45 on New Year’s Eve, and no, Clint doesn’t know where Natasha is, and yes, he knows they’re often together, but they’re not right now, obviously, and it’s not like he’s her babysitter, is he? (the time of night some people call morning)

It begins, as too many things in his life do, with Dog Cops. (and at night be warm)

“She’s in Venice,” Phil tells him; but Clint has been chasing the faceless Black Widow through Europe for two years now, and he’s learned better than to take the certainty in his brow seriously. (con te partirò)

Everyone knows who Natasha Romanoff is. (who wants to be a billionaire)

Objectively, it’s Clint’s fault. (fast, thorough, sharp as a tack)

When Janet suggests a team bonding event, Natasha thinks she means… you know, normal stuff: an art gallery, a movie; hell, even bowling. (some moments more spectacular than others)

There’s a diner at the end of the block, and that’s what it’s called. (minor arcana)

Sometimes, you lean against a brick wall outside a coffee shop to take a selfie with your coffee, and nothing happens. In fact, go ahead and replace “sometimes” with “usually,” or “99% of the time.” It’s highly unlikely, after all, for a wall to be anything other than what it appears to be. (listen, there's a hell of a good universe next door)

aaaaand some bonus wips, should anyone want to motivate me:

Although it’s not the career Clint Barton intended to have, he is, it turns out, an incredible assistant. (a "billionaire" sequel whose working title is "a fake marriage that definitely won't become real, no sir")

If Pepper wasn’t so desperately happy, Natasha would cheerfully murder her. (a flatshare au. working title: damn you live like this???)

tagging: @cassiesinsanity @alphaflyer @cloud--atlas @poppypickle @inkvoices @aurorashard and anyone else who wants to!!!

[turtletimewriting]

Stuck in Comfort

Summary: Donnie was having a perfectly fine nap with Raph! So what if he was now trapped underneath Raph! But of course, Leo and Mikey had to create chaos.

Look at me! Writing again. This is a tickle fic so there’s your warning.

Words: 1600

_._._

There was loud dramatic music playing and there was some part of Donnie that knew he had to do something about that. But he was too sleepy. The room was dark and he was perfectly cushioned by a nest of fleecy blankets and pillows. He had a heavy warm weight all across his body and it was literally perfect.

So often, he’d wake up to needing to stretch or having someone’s elbow digging in yet this was utterly perfect. 

Slowly it was all coming back to him. They decided to watch a couple of movies after a really tough mission as a pick me up. It couldn’t be called a proper movie night since Leo and Mikey weren’t there. Mikey had explained his head was too busy to sit there silently watching a film, he felt that urge to fidget and totally distract himself by concentrating on something physical. It wasn’t unusual for him to need to do some art quietly after a tough mission. 

Leo didn’t really explain. He just grabbed his skateboard and called them boring.

So him and Raph had shared a look and agreed to their own movie night.

They hadn’t done this since they were really little. Raph acting as the ultimate weighted blanket to dampen all sensation for Donnie to calm his frayed nerves, while Raph hugging Donnie so to calm his own thoughts of his family in danger. The movie only acting as something to fill in the silence.

Donnie sighed happily, not even opening his eyes, and tried to settle back into sleep. Raph was doing his snuffling snores so he was dead asleep so there was no way he could move even if he wanted to. Raph was deadweight and the heaviest sleeper of them all. Not that Donnie wanted to move. He was warm and his nerves were all settled and he felt just the right side of cozy sleepiness.

He flinched as he felt something soft drift over his foot.

Ugh, it was probably the blankets shifting from him waking up. Just try to settle down and allow sleep to peacefully wash over him once again.

There it was again.

He went to scratch his foot with the other since there was no way he could free his arm from underneath Raph. Only to feel something suddenly grab his ankle.

“Gah!” He shrieked, trying to sit up but he only ended up headbutting Raph’s chin. Raph didn’t even stir at that. The hand was still holding his ankle. It was awkward leaning over Raph’s sleeping form with his massive spikey shell blocking everything from view, he couldn’t see anything.

“Easy there, Don!” Mikey’s voice helpfully whispered.

“Mikey! You scared me! What are you doing? Just grabbing at me!” He was still trying to see over Raph but he was stuck at just the wrong angle.

“Oh you know! Just hanging out with you guys, told you I’d join you later!”

“Well the movie ended a while ago,” Donnie only now registered that the music he heard earlier was the credits now playing, “but you can put on another oOOAH!”

There was a deliberate stroke from a single finger from his heel right to the ball of his foot.

Mikey laughed in his obnoxious littlest sibling way that shot terror through Donnie. “What was that noise?”

“Mikey. Don’t. You. Dare.” Donnie desperately tried to peer around but he couldn’t see Mikey. No clue what he was going to do. Where he even was! He tried to rip free from Raph’s form but he was totally powerless.

“How can I not!” Mikey laughed back like this was a lighthearted matter. “You’re completely hidden under Raphie. Only your little feetsies are sticking out!”

He was now aware that his feet were bared to the world. Moving his legs was just as useless as getting his arms free. He couldn’t move at all. Only uselessly waggling his feet.

Donnie didn’t get the chance to respond as that finger returned. It barely brushed across his skin in a confident sweep up and down. One finger sending tingling tickles across his sole. He tried to hold back, breathing all weird to keep the giggles from erupting.

He could picture the stupid happy grin on Mikey’s face; so proud of himself to bring down his bigger siblings. There was no way he was going to give him the satisfaction.

“That tickle, Dee?” 

The finger now gently scratched at his foot. Wiggling did nothing, the grip on his ankle kept him in place and his finger was keeping strictly to his sole. “Mk! Mmff- Mike!” He tried to scold.

“Aww, are you trapped? You don’t want to be too loud, Raphie could wake up at any second!”

“An earthquake c-co couldn’t wahake Raph!” He screeched.

“But you don’t wanna disturb him though, do you? It’s only a slight tickle. You can take that, can’t you? Just a few tiny little tickles.”

The finger drifted from the direct centre of his sole to the side. Mikey did always seem to have a secret sense of knowing when a spot was getting too used to the tickling. His nerves were shot up. It tickled way more than it should’ve. His foot being electrocuted by tickles. Breathing through the giggles was getting impossible. The urge to move screaming at him but there was nothing he could do. Totally to the whims of a tickle monster of a youngest brother.

For pizza’s sake! Aren’t they meant to be the tickle monsters to the youngest! What family had the youngest be the merciless feared monster!

“Tickle, tickle, tickle, Donnieeeee!” Mikey was too gleeful for someone who was totally getting attacked the second he was freed from Raph.

“Pfft!” By now he was opening smiling widely. The giggles were coming. He was just too ticklish. “Eh! Ehe ssssstop! Haha! AAAHA HAHAHA!”

“Oh finally!” 

Donnie jolted all over again. “LEO?!” 

“Surprise!” Leo said in that obnoxious drawl of his before he felt another hand grab his other foot and a much harsher scratching tickle on his other foot.

“HAHAHAHAAHAH! AAAAAAH! HAHA! HAHAHA! LEHEHO! MIHI- AAAAAH!” He couldn’t even think what to yell out. Mikey was still gently tracing around his sole like he was reading his foot while Leo was like a golden retriever going nuts over tormenting him.

“Shhh! Don’t wanna wake up Raph,” Leo teased.

“THEHEN DON’T TICKLE ME! HAHAHAHAAHAAAAAA! AAAAAH!” 

“Hmm, seems unrealistic,” Mikey said.

“Would it be better if I did this?” Leo said dramatically.

“NOOOOOOOO!” Donnie squealed, kicking his feet even harder. But the tickles on his left foot stopped. But that was definitely a trap. “No! No! No! No! Don’t you dare Leo!”

Really, being trapped like this was a mercy. Because usually any sort of line like that from Leo would mean he would be tickled across his shell. But Raph protected his death spot entirely.

Eventually, Leo walked to in front of him. Leo laughed at him, which was probably fair. He did look ridiculous. Blushing bright red while still drowning under Mikey’s soft tracing tickle. He shook out his head. 

“Heehee! Hehee ehe!” Donnie giggled, unable to stop. Scrunching up his face, Donnie couldn’t block out the tickles now he had started laughing. Even the slow tracing tingling tickle across his foot was enough to have him frantically laughing. The sillyiness of the situation going to his head.

“Hello there Ticklytello!” 

“Leeeeheheho! Lehe eheheee!”

“Yes, Ticklytello?”

Donnie felt like his brain was melting from the constant tingle, made even worse by the fact that there was nothing he could do about it. Trapped to just endure the tickling until his brothers got bored. “MAhahke him stop heheh heh stop tickling me!”

Leo rubbed his chin for a moment. “Would this help?” He reached out and happily tickled under his chin. 

Donnie slammed his head down into the pillows, trapping Leo’s hand directly into his neck. Allowing him to gently tickle away. It wasn’t that bad of a tickle spot but it added to the already flustering situation.

Mikey happily tickling gently at his feet and Leo trapped to torment his neck with reckless glee. And no matter how hard he wiggled or squirmed, Raph’s deadweight kept him stuck. Helpless to some brotherly tickling.

“GUHUHU GHUYS! HAHAHAHAAAA!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Donnie screamed, suddenly feeling a raspberry pressed to the nape of his neck.

That stopped his brothers. They were all looking up at Raph as he blew a long drawn out raspberry. Eventually he ran out of breath and pulled back, letting Donnie collapse into his pile of leftover tickles.

“Nice attack there, team,” Raph smiled.

“I thought you were asleep!” Leo exclaimed.

“Oh shoot, did we actually wake you up?” Mikey finally scooted up to the rest of them, looking a little chastised. 

“Nah,” Raph said while looking like he was seconds away from falling asleep again. His eyes drooping shut and he was nuzzling into the nape of Donnie’s neck. “Don’s headbutt from earlier got me up. Just thought he needed a good tickling.”

Leo went to make another remark but Mikey nudged him. Donnie was in the same position, falling asleep now things had calmed down again. His eyes already shut and relaxing into the blanket nest. It would be just plain cruel to tickle them now. Raph and Donnie settling to fall back asleep against each other.

���Is there room for two more?” Mikey smiled as he pounced to sleep in the crook of Raph’s arm, pressed up against Donnie too. 

“Can’t forget Leon!” 

[sylphidine]

Wrote about 9000 words of polyamory in the last week, with equal parts fluph and angst.

It's definitely becoming true for me that the more often I write, the more words I ***can*** write and the more storytelling progress I can make in shorter bursts of time.

Once I complete this college AU work, which is probably less than ten chapters away from completion, more likely closer to five, I'll be turning back to fantasy writing. It will be curious to see whether my writing speed slows down again.

I have been told by at least one fellow fanfic writer that fantasy works take them longer to write than human!AUs, because there's more worldbuilding involved. I can agree, partly, but when I look at my notes files for this human!AU versus the notes files for any of my fantasy works, the college AU files are much lengthier. More references, more research, more footnotes, more saved photos. That feels like worldbuilding to me, whereas my fantasy works are all based on the fandom's building blocks where everything seems to have been already laid out for me.

Hmmm.

[carlos-in-glasses]

First Line Game Tag

Thank you so much for the tag @good-ways and @paperstorm You're such beautiful writers 🥰

Rules: Post the first lines of your last 10 fics posted to ao3. if you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

Afterglow of a Supernova

Carlos speeds into the cul-de-sac and pulls up in his unit before the ambulance arrives at the scene.

To him, the McMansion appears more characterful than the staid identikit houses that flank it, beautified with hanging baskets and a climbing rose. Borders of vibrant summer blooms surround a tranquil water feature in the center of the lawn. Ceramic flowerpots either side of the porch step are lively with rotating pastel pinwheels and miniature Lone Star flags that flutter in the warm breeze. A basketball hoop fixed above the garage door sparks a memory that Carlos tries to ignore, shrugging off the past like an invisible hand on his shoulder.

Man to Man

Carlos doesn’t know where he’s going. When he reaches the end of the long drive, he has three options: turn left towards the city of Austin, turn right onto a potholed dirt track and enter the deeper darkness, or turn around and go back home. He turns right.

On an overcast night like tonight, the dark is a serious, sucking thing, like a black hole on earth. He looks up at a fractal of moonlight – a small dusty shimmer far above. Meaningless. It’s no company. But he doesn’t want company. That’s the whole point. He wants to be alone in a way that he can control, and to achieve this he had to get out, run, self-create the distance that caused his parents’ calling voices to fade to nothing behind him. Does it feel good? No. But it doesn’t feel bad, either. And that’s new. Most days he feels bad about something – and this is the worst thing he’s done for a long time.

Chasers

“Hey.” TK reaches out, brushes his fingers against the earthy red cotton of Carlos’ jacket as he turns towards the door. Carlos stops, meeting TK’s look of adoration with his warm brown eyes. They stand as if suspended in each other’s gravity, glowing for each other like stars.

“Thank you.” TK whispers, meaning his gratitude soul-deep, slightly frustrated that the words don’t convey it enough. So, he follows with, “I love you,” – really wanting to press how he feels into Carlos, so Carlos may never forget and never doubt it – although these words seem insufficient also.

The Ruins of Wonderland

The storm lands north-east of Travis County, sparing Austin the predicted chaos that for several days the emergency services have been primed to contain, with the increasing adrenaline that rises from high alerts. Instead, the city experiences the mere edge of the blizzard – a soft snowfall that settles prettily on roofs and verges. There’s a few instances of vehicles sliding out of control on icy roads, but largely the salt spreading trucks have prevented disaster. That aside, people in inappropriate footwear, totally unused to freezing conditions, slip up and bang knees and wrists, which means an uptick in X-rays at St. David’s – but TK’s Paragon EMS crew hasn’t seen much action.

In Your Adorable Glasses

Before sunrise on Christmas Eve morning, Carlos jolts awake. His eyes adjust to the dark as he stretches beneath the warm white quilt and pats around for TK, finding him low down in the bed and curled up against him like a cat. He strokes through TK's hair delicately, and when TK doesn't move Carlos slips out from under the sheets.

Folded on the chair there’s a pair of green tartan pajama pants his mom bought him last Christmas. He pulls them on quickly for warmth, and from his dresser he chooses the fleecy brown sweater that TK loves because it makes him look like a grizzly bear.

Wrestling Angels

It happens less often these days, which is some mercy, but there are times – out of nowhere – when Gwyn's death floors TK. Invisible arms lift him high off the ground, turn him upside down and slam him onto his back. He is shocked, winded, his nerves crackle with pain. Still, the abruptness of this grief playing out in front of people is rare. It usually topples him at night, at home, when he can’t occupy his mind with work. He'll slink away like a wounded cat, re-emerging only when Carlos reminds him to have dinner.

Because of the intensity of the wedding build-up, Gwyn’s loss feels greater, more recent, and lately it spikes without warning.

A Naked House

“You know we can’t roll up naked to this thing,” Carlos says, pulling on a snug pair of smoky purple boxers and turning to the bedroom mirror to smooth his hair.

TK basks stark nude on the end of the bed and grins ruefully, like he’s been presented with a challenge he knows he’ll breeze.

Carlos stays expressionless, pretending to ignore him as he heads for the closet, but TK pounces and wraps his arms around him from behind. Carlos hums, settling into TK’s warm breath against his neck.

TK sticks his tongue out and licks his ear.

Carlos chuckles from the tickle but jerks his head. “Babe, stop – we have to focus.”

Teardrop on the Fire

Thursday February 24, 2022

The 5:30 a.m. alarm doesn’t stir TK. He remains deeply asleep and curled up in the fetal position when Carlos is ready to leave for his shift.

Another twenty seconds, Carlos grants himself, to look at TK in the cool blue dawn. He leans down and softly kisses TK’s cheek, his neck, his exposed shoulder. He leaves a handwritten note next to TK on his own pillow, and reluctantly backs away.

Bathtime and Black Magic

TK had been lying awake for an hour – maybe more at this point – wondering what was wrong and why the silent-treatment. It must have been a particularly traumatic shift. All he knew for certain was that this had never happened before, and tonight broke the stable pattern of all his nights with Carlos prior.

A Rainy Day in Austin

Carlos finished his coffee and cleared up their breakfast things while TK said his wistful goodbyes to Lou, the wild alligator lizard he’d bonded with (in the way only TK could) during a medical call where he helped extract him from a gaping leg wound.

Although setting Lou free had been TK's suggestion, Carlos was tight-chested with guilt, tense in his shoulders. Not to the extent of deciding Lou could stay, but still.

Tagging @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe @ladytessa74 and @heartstringsduet and @tailoredshirt if you haven't been tagged yet and want to share!

[greymantledlady]

American friends help. what do you call this garment?

in Australia we call it an oodie because that's the brand name... it's made of fleecy velvet, super huge and soft and cuddly and you wear it to bed. please help i want to write it into a fic 😭 anyone?

[iboopedyournose]

Ask Game!

I was tagged by both my fav authors! Thanks lovelies! @faye-tale @colettebronte 🥰🥰

nickname | full name is Emily so ‘Em’ is what most people call me but ‘Emmy’ is my self-appointed nickname lol (+my little Tori when I met her bc she couldn’t pronounce my name yet 🥹)

height | 5’5.5’’

last google search | jobs near where I go to school 😭🙃

song stuck my head | yesterday, ‘Womanizer’ by Brittney Spears, but also ‘Copacabana’ everyday for like 10 years lmao

number of followers | 173 which is higher than I thought tbh 🤣

amount of sleep | my sleep schedule is fucked rn and the weather is depressing me so I’ve been going to bed at like 1 and sleeping til noon soooo like 11 hours?? 😅

dream job | omg idk. I mean ideally NONE but I’m fabulously wealthy and can do whatever I want and not stress lol but since that’s crazysauce until Chris Evans marries me I’m not sure. I’m a fashion design student and part of me really want to make costumes but is terrified I don’t have what it takes. I think designing toys would be fucking awesome!? Designing clothes for Barbie would be awesome I think!

wearing | my beloved sweatpants that I live in, a comfy rib-knit long-sleeve tee, and my giant hideous granny panties from Walmart 🤣 (super comfy)

movie/book that describes you | this is really tough 🤔🤔 one of the most relatable movies I’ve ever seen to this day tho is Pixar’s ‘Inside Out’. Still makes me cry every time

aesthetic | hmmm pumpkins, kitty cats, periwinkle blue, sparkly things, fairies, pastels, witchy, daydreaming, twinkly lights, clicky boots, autumn, woodland creatures, flowers & greenery, romantic, historic fashions, cozy, spooky but soft, sweaters, Keds, berries

favorite author(s) | I already told you! 😆 @fayes-fics & @colettebronte are my favs fr! 🫶🏻🫶🏻seriously I’ve only JUST started reading actual books and it’s still not really my thing tbh and I’m not particularly loyal to any authors. I just read whatever looks interesting (trashy romance mostly 🤷🏼‍♀️)

favorite song | no fucking way I could ever choose! So I’ll just list a bunch of artists whose music I love- Taylor Swift, Dave Edmunds, Cruel Youth, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Panic at the Disco, Harry Styles, Sweet, Don Mclean, The Driver Era, Boston, The Monkees, plus a ton of Broadway shit and soundtracks

random fact | I never sleep under my comforter and sheets?? Idk why I just hate it so I sleep on top with a fleecy blanket or two

No pressure tags | @spookysexy @benedictscanvas @thespaghettighost @kathanisharmaa @waterlilyrose

[pawbeanies]

3. daydreams - if you could be anything or anyone, who would you be? 6. ivory - describe your pajamas? 11. poppy - favorite pastel color? 12. dimples - most attractive features of a person’s face? 18. honey - favorite term of endearment? 24. backyard - did you ever have an imaginary friend? 28. shampoo - favorite scent? 32. lace - if you own any dresses, which is your favorite? 38. roses - what flower do you find most beautiful?

!!!! hi anon!!!! so many questions... i ramble a lot so!! under the readmore!!! thank you for the questions yay yay yay!!!!

ask game link hereee!!

3. daydreams - if you could be anything or anyone, who would you be?

ohhh... oh to be like a puppy on someone's lap i think... i think the ultimate day dream would be to be someone who can lives at home and plays games and takes naps all day but doesn't have to worry about money or anything !!! wistfully looking out the window oh to be a pet. or happily spending time at home forever. this was my first thought and then i got a little bummed because my brain went "??? is that it??? you can be anything and thats what we'd want to be???" and yes. yes it is. im a little boring but all i want to be is happy and Cozy...

6. ivory - describe your pajamas?

speaking of cozyyyy !!!!! my fav pajamas are these fleecy red pajamas and tshirts i got from uni .. or old tshirts from work it depends on whatevers not in the laundry... i won a long sleeved uni shirt at an on campus event and it has been my favorite sleep shirt ever since. the mark of a CHAMPION

11. poppy - favorite pastel color?

All Of Them ... no but i really like pastel purples!! lilac and lavender type vibes... pastel pinks are also good!! but then i also like blue .... im too indecisive to pick a favorite pastel color i love them all........

12. dimples - most attractive features of a person’s face?

eyes i think !!! i always look at peoples eyes because they're pretty ... or like the way people smile i think ??? that can be attractive too........

18. honey - favorite term of endearment?

all of them !!!!!!!!!!!!! no but hmm. i think things with "sweet" in them are my fav likeee. sweetheart or sweet thing?? sweet boy ??? i saw "sweetling" in a fic once and it was really good too but i fear that if someone said that i dont know how my brain would react . coming from like another living being and not blorbo gameseries

24. backyard - did you ever have an imaginary friend?

i actually didnt !!! i dunno i didnt have like. many friends but i never felt the need to liek Make an imaginary friend if that makes sense ... sometimes i would pretend like i had one because i was like. kids are supposed to have imaginary friends right. so when people were looking i would pretend to play with my imaginary friend but in my brain was like "im just talking to air huh...... but this is what other kids do right......"

28. shampoo - favorite scent?

i love!!! the smell of coffee!!! its my favorite smell.. i have a candle that smells like coffee and i keep it in my room for that Coffee smell ... i need to find more coffee scented things hmmhmm ... i also really like the smell of lavender !!! semi related but lavender lattes are my favorite . would recommend. smells and tastes good

32. lace - if you own any dresses, which is your favorite?

the tuna pinafore from umvvelt !!!! its cute and has pockets AND fish on it !!! being cute is very good but also i need something with utility yknow... i also have a cute black dress with flowers !!! i posted pics of somewhere on here ....... somewhere in picbeanies ...

38. roses - what flower do you find most beautiful?

i really like !!!!!!!!! hydrangeas!!! they are my fav flowers i think. lavender flowers are a close second but i like the Ball shape of hydrangeas theyre like friend shaped and they come in so many colors...

[mischief-and-tea-by-the-sea]

soft asks 6, 11, 14, 23 pls

6. What’s your favorite candle scent?

At one time, it used to be mulberry. Mulberry used to be a huge popular scent in the 80s then it dropped off the radar. These days, my favorites - all Yankee Candle ones - are the autumn and winter scents like Harvest and Autumn in the City and Farmers Market and all the pine/balsam/fir type scents. Those are all my faves. OH! OH OH! And of course, one of my TOP FAVES EVER is the Mountain Lodge candle from Yankee Candle that inspired this amazing post.

11. Do you have a comfort item? Tell us about it!

I have a couple actually. One is this fleecy sort of shirt, not really a sweatshirt and not a sweater, but just this thick fleecy dark gray shirt I found at Goodwill in San Marcos, Texas, while I was living there for grad school. I think I paid $4 for it. But it's like wearing a security blanket - I wear it all through the winter to stay warm in the evenings and I'll sleep in it when it's really super cold. It's also seen me through several illnesses, like the kidney infection in 2011. I love that thing.

Then there's my Black Panther 2X hoodie that is more like a house robe at this point because it's so huge on me, and I mostly wear it around the house to stay warm and cozy.

I've got a stuffed bear from the college I went to when I went back for my BA, and a stuffed octopus that came from that Wildlife Conservation place (adopt a wolf, adopt a moose, adopt an octopus...that one), and a stuffed IKEA alligator (crocodile, actually, I think, but I'm eventually buying Loki horns for him).

14. What's something upcoming that you’re excited for?

Well, I'd like to say that I'm excited to move away from Texas, but that's still not happening any time soon, and I'd be excited if someone would give me a goddamn job so that I could get money coming in so that I could eventually move away from Texas (or at least back down to my hometown that's on the coast of Texas). But those aren't anything upcoming.

Upcoming. Hmm. Other than finishing fics and getting into my new fandom bingo prompts, there isn't really anything upcoming that I'm excited for. I wish there was, but everything's kind of stagnating at the moment. Need Rimble to show up and shake it all up again but in a good way.

23. Have you ever received flowers?

I have, but it's been YEARS. My ex rarely bought me flowers - he did in the beginning and then quit, and then about a year before he decided he was ditching me, he started buying me flowers sometimes again. And my former roommate bought me flowers a couple of times, but that's about it on me getting flowers from anyone other than myself.

Thanks for the asks!

Soft Asks.

[nopenototdaysatan]

Anniversary of starting this fic up means cute soft poetry about Link wearing Ravio's robe. CX

Chilly Mornings and Comfy Robes

Pain cascading through his body. Taking up space everywhere it can reach. The sun is bright and blinding And the morning chill is sinking into joints.

Dragging blankets up and around-

And there’s something extra? Something soft and fleecy. Something with ears? Rav’s purple robe.

It’s feels fantastic in my hands Warm and comforting And it still smells like him. It would fit me just as it does Rav. … No one would see either.

Pulling the end of the robe up, I dive into the purple robe The pain spiking from the movement Before easing at the warmth.

Pulling the hood over my head, I hide within the warmth of the fabric And the smell of my love As the comfort pulls me back to sleep.

-a couple hours later-

I hadn’t thought of it when I left But my lovely Rabbit robe was left at home. And during a chilly morning I could have used it for. But that’s fine, I know exactly where I left it. Our bed.

Where my darling Link has stolen it, it seems. The cold has never treated him well So, I can’t blame him for wanting the warmth And I can’t help but to adore the look of him happy and warm And with cute little bunny ears to top it off.

With a kiss on his one visible cheek, That he curls into the hood further To get away from my ticklish kiss it seems. I can’t help but chuckle on the way out.

“Sleep well, my hero.”

Never have the chance

(if you want the full experience, go and pull up the song Never Love an Anchor by The Crane Wives. -Satan)

I think I always understood,

My hands weren’t clever but clumsy.

And yet I could see clearly

The way yours were.

Your bravery inspired me

While I watched you save our homes,

And yet I couldn’t even find the courage

To ask you to be my own.

With this heart of mine

That’s guilty, not remorseful;

I find the beating of my heart

Screaming out for you.

I wish I could let you know of this burning

Yet hopeful feeling in my chest;

But it would have buried you alive

If I had spoken it aloud.

I think I always knew

That we could never be.

Not someone as bright as you

With a shadow like me.

And so with these hands of mine

I’ll steer you away,

Free and unbound,

From the anchor that is me.

…

I'll watch your hands slip from mine

And watch as you walk away

Wishing for nothing more than

Your hands in mine once more.

And I’ll smile, large enough to hide

Everything falling apart inside.

I would lie again and again

For your happy ever after.

Goodbye Link.

-Love Ravio

[ceescedasticity]

i looked thru your writing babble tag and couldnt find it, do u have a link to the start again timeline? i get confused trying to figure out when everyones remembering relates to each other

Assuming that P5 takes place in 2016…

(Spoilers for everything posted so far…)

Late December 2013 –

Very beginning of Escher. Futaba starts getting a weird feeling of deja vu.

Yusuke wakes up remembering everything but isn’t sure it’s real.

Morgana also remembers at this point, though details have not been revealed.

January 2014 –

Futaba continues to feel deja vu.

Morgana leaves a warning note in the Isshiki mailbox.

Yusuke looks for Leblanc, but it isn’t there.

Goro starts having interrogation room dreams, usually about once a week.

Yusuke is dreaming of Madarame’s Palace almost every night. This doesn’t really stop.

Reserved-parking-place-related breakdown/rage fugue

February 2014 –

Goro cases the exterior of the Jikken Palace.

People are noticing Yusuke’s not sleeping well.

March 2014 –

Goro tips the police off about a drug dealer – why hasn’t been explained, but it may have been as a favor to Sasaki

Hitoshi has a manic episode.

April 2014 –

New school year! Probably April 7.

--Haru and Makoto start first year of high school at Shuujin

--Goro starts first year of high school at Jikken

--Yusuke starts third year of middle school

--Futaba starts second year of middle school

--Kiyomi starts third and final year of high school; Hitoshi starts second year of high school

--Hifumi starts third year of middle school

--Ryuji and Ann start third year of middle school at the same school, somewhere in Tokyo

--Akira starts third year of middle school somewhere outside Tokyo

Haru remembers; Count of Monte Cristo begins. Haru meets and befriends Makoto but verifies she does not remember anything.

I didn’t consult a calendar while writing COMC so I’m not 100% sure everything will line up.

Yusuke refuses the ‘life drawing’ proposal, starts painting Self-Portrait as a Cognition.

Haru tracks down Goro and blackmails him for Metaverse access.

The next day, shows Makoto Kamoshida’s Palace but doesn’t take her inside.

That Saturday, probably 4/19, Haru gets careless and runs into trouble in the castle, has to be rescued by Makoto and Goro.

Tuesday (4/22?): breakdown/rage fugue with the attacking people with shoes.

Thursday (4/24?), first joint trip into Jikken.

Goro’s interrogation room dreams turn into engine room dreams.

After the first joint trip to the space station (4/26?), Haru and Makoto get a look at Goro’s notebook, Goro hears about navigator abilities and recruiting personas.

Yeah I think I was thinking school started earlier in April than it probably did, the end of the month is getting a little rushed. Not completely implausible at least.

May 2014 –

Early in the month, Goro gets Defarge persona; his Akira dreams turn lucid.

Sometime this month, Yusuke makes sure exhibition tickets are sent to Kunikazu Okumura. One way or another Haru never sees them.

About 5/5?, Kunikazu announces Haru is engaged.

Almost a week later (5/10?), introduces Tomioka-san.

Little Palace activity in the next week. Makoto snoops around the volleyball team, Goro takes down Sasaki.

The weekend (5/17-5/18?) is rough.

Another week of little activity. Makoto breaks the starship log code and Goro scouts out Tomioka in Mementos.

Saturday (5/24?): rage fugue/breakdown for Tomioka

Sunday (5/25): Goro offers to prioritize the space station

June 2014 –

Futaba is subconsciously aware that Wakaba “will” have a mental shutdown, and very anxious.

Hitoshi/Kiyomi/Madarame start noticing there’s something kind of funny about Self-Portrait as a Cognition.

Haru, Makoto, and Goro secure a route to the Treasure, then wait a little longer to gather strength before sending the calling card

Kunikazu’s heart changed

July 2014 –

COMC crew focuses on studying and exams until the end of the term (probably about 7/20).

August 2014 –

Futaba is subconsciously aware that Wakaba “should” have had a mental shutdown. Deja vu turns into disorientation.

Madarame decides Self-Portrait as a Cognition is too creepy to plagiarize.

COMC crew reaches the top of the laboratory and the Treasure and Shadow aren’t there – now they have to go down.

Goro admits he’s not actually working for Shido.

September 2014 –

Self-Portrait as a Cognition is mostly complete.

9/1, school term starts.

9/8, Haru informs Goro he will be transferring.

9/15, Goro moves to Shuujin.

Unlike the original timeline, Kiyomi does not leave.

A politician who had a mental shutdown last timeline dies in a “car accident”.

October 2014 –

Hitoshi has a depressive episode.

Nakanohara leaves the atelier, roughly at the same time as he did last timeline.

November 2014 –

COMC crew reaches the Jikken Treasure, decides they need to scout.

11/8-11/9 – Cultural festival weekend:

--At Shuujin, there is a ‘syrup incident’, but otherwise uneventful.

--Makoto sees Kamoshida smarming at potential students.

--At Kosei, Yusuke runs into Ann, who doesn’t recognize him, and Hifumi, who he blurts out some information to.

--That evening, Yusuke and Hifumi fall through Self-Portrait as a Cognition (in front of Kiyomi) and return an hour later (in front of Hitoshi).

11/10 - Ryuji remembers, verifies that Ann does not

Yusuke starts visiting the museum Palace frequently. His sleep gets a lot better.

Wakaba’s lab succeeds in opening a portal into the Metaverse.

Futaba bugs Wakaba’s phone.

11/15 – COMC crew checks out the SIU Director’s Palace, Goro gets Medea.

11/16, Yusuke and Hifumi visit Mementos.

COMC crew defeats the Jikken Palace, changes Ishikawa’s heart.

11/29, Hifumi grounded after a fight with her mother over forfeiting a game.

11/30, Ryuji dyes his hair

December 2014 –

12/1, Ryuji mistakes a stray cat for Morgana. Ooops.

12/7, Yusuke and Hifumi visit a Palace at her middle school.

~12/15, Goro has the flu, tells Makoto his time travel theory.

Atelier water heater breaks, Madarame leaves for “retreat” (read: resort).

12/25, conspiracy tries to have Wakaba killed and fake an accidental overdose.

12/26, power in the atelier is cut off due to lack of payment. Futaba remembers everything after her uncle yells at her in the hospital. In the evening, runs into Yusuke. Yusuke & senpai go to stay at Isshiki apartment.

12/28, Futaba, Yusuke, and Hifumi go after Uncle Yoji in Mementos. On the way out pass Goro interrogating a Shadow (Ito) about judges, prosecutors, school sponsorship.

12/30, Futaba discovers Wakaba’s Palace.

12/31, Futaba, Yusuke, and Hifumi scout Wakaba’s Palace. Someone at the “spiritual retreat” sets fire to the buffet.

January 2015 –

Yusuke, Kiyomi, and Hitoshi return to the atelier. Sojiro moves into the Isshiki apartment but is mostly at the hospital.

First two weeks, Escher crew practices in the museum Palace, make tools, gather supplies.

Make it up the outside of the pyramid in one go.

Hifumi stops competing formally for the year, has another fight with her mother.

Another Palace trip: top of the pyramid to Hedonistic Braggart

Another trip: Solve the puzzle to clear the way up

1/17-1/19, university entrance exams

Another trip: up through the adyton, have to run from the Hundred-Armed Slave.

Yusuke contacts Dr. Takemi, Hifumi starts sneaking out with a rope ladder.

~1/22, beat the Hundred-Armed Slave, clear the crawlspace.

At least one Palace trip just getting money. Sojiro is alienating the nurses.

First trip into the pagoda section: have to run from Cognitive Sojiro.

Second pagoda trip: run from Shadows.

A few days of downtime before pagoda Attempt 3.

Attempt 4 on the pagoda – end up at the top of the temple, confront Asherah.

Next day (Sunday, probably 2/1), Wakaba wakes up.

February 2015 –

~2/6, Futaba remembers to look into Okumura Foods

Escher & COMC crews meet up

[some other stuff is going on with Escher&COMC crews after this but it hasn’t been revealed]

April 2015—

April 6 — new school year

April 11 — “interview” dumps Ryuji & co in Metaverse

April 13 — Ryuji & co return from Metaverse a little after midnight. Weapon shopping in the evening.