#forgot to brighten this one whoops

[andorshitdaily]

ANDOR + Texts From Last Night

[nb-octopus-writes]

once you’re in the hive, the other bees assume you’re supposed to be there

[Masterpost]

Chapter 7: How They Kept Him Very Well

Wordcount: 1.1K

~~~~

“You know, if you keep feeding me like this, I’m going to gain weight,” Virgil says, settling back in his chair with immense satisfaction.

“No offense, but you look like you could use it, Jack Skellington,” Roman tells him.

“Hey!” Virgil protests, though he isn’t actually particularly offended. Roman’s not wrong, for one thing. Virgil certainly doesn’t have the time and energy—or skill, honestly—to make as good food as Patton does. These last couple days have been the most well-fed he’s been since he moved out to be an independent adult.

Roman pushes his chair back and hops up. “Ready for movies?” he asks eagerly, already heading for the doorway.

“Roman Augustus Sanders, do not leave your plate on the table,” Logan says tiredly, but without heat. Roman freezes mid-step, shoulders raising guiltily. Slowly, cartoonishly stiffly, he spins back around.

“Oops.”

“I can’t stay anyway, remember?” Virgil asks. “I gotta get going so I can bike home before it gets dark.”

Roman's eyes go wide. “I. Forgot,” he says with a grimace.

“It is well past sunset,” Logan informs Virgil. “I am afraid that ‘before it gets dark’ is no longer possible tonight.”

“Oh.” Well, fuck. What's he supposed to do now!?

“Sorry,” Roman says. “I did not take the passage of time into consideration. I'll make it up to you. Do you want me to drive you home? I'll drive you home right away. Or you could spend the night again, and I'll take you to work in the morning?”

“I have tomorrow off, actually,” Virgil says, which is the first thing he can think of in response to that extremely generous offer. Roman brightens.

“Oh, perfect!” he says. “That means you can stay the night and then take your bike home tomorrow when it's light out!”

Virgil hesitates, glancing at the others. “Are… you sure that's okay?” he asks.

Logan shrugs. “Unless you have plans for your day off and would prefer to be taken home tonight, that would seem to be the most expedient method,” he says.

“No, I… No, no plans,” Virgil says.

“So you’ll stay?” Roman asks. Virgil hesitates, then nods. Roman whoops, bouncing. “So can we watch Unfortunate Events then?” he asks hopefully.

Virgil can’t help smiling, Roman’s excitement contagious. “Sure, soon as you take care of your dishes,” he says.

Roman sticks his tongue out at him, coming back to gather them up and take them into the kitchen. 

Virgil takes care of his own, and Logan puts the leftovers away tonight. The instant their dishes are rinsed and in the dishwasher, Roman whisks Virgil off to the theater again.

One episode follows another, as they eagerly discuss, theorize, and refuse to stop on cliffhangers. They pause, once, because Roman wants to make popcorn, and once more a few episodes later for a bathroom break, but otherwise they continue watching episodes back to back.

Eventually, Patton interrupts their marathon. He’s wearing his grey cat onesie again, and yawns as he opens the door.

“Are you coming to bed soon?” he asks.

Roman pauses the episode and glances at his wrist, on which he is not wearing a watch. “What time is it?” he asks.

“Midnight-thirty,” Calico says, and yawns again. “Logan’s already asleep.”

Roman catches Virgil’s eyes and makes a wide-eyed whoops expression at him. “Stop after this one?” he suggests, and glances at the screen again. “I think we’re almost done.” He presses a button on the remote and pulls up the time bar thing. “Yeah, ten minutes left,” he says.

“Sounds doable,” Virgil says, glad that he doesn’t have to get up for work tomorrow. It’s going to take him a while to wind down enough to fall asleep, and if it’s already past midnight, he would have had no chance of getting anywhere near enough sleep. Hopefully they won’t mind him sleeping in, because otherwise they're going to have to literally drag him out of bed in the morning, and that might spoil their weirdly good opinions of him. “Probably another cliffhanger though.”

“Probably,” Roman agrees. He sucks in a breath, drawing himself up. “We shall have to be strong and resist the siren’s call of another episode.”

“Ten minutes?” Patton asks.

“Ten minutes, beloved,” Roman promises.

“Okay,” Patton says sleepily, and closes the door again.

Ten minutes later, they are indeed left on a cliffhanger. It takes real effort not to continue despite their promise, but Roman visibly gathers his strength, screws up his face, and points the remote at the tv. “For love and cuddles,” he says, pressing the power button.

“Where should I sleep tonight?” Virgil asks as Roman leads him tiredly up the stairs.

Roman shrugs. “Same room as last time unless you’d rather join us,” he says. “We can share Paddy Bear.”

That’s… that’s a joke, right? Roman didn’t just seriously invite Virgil into his bed, invite him to cuddle with his boyfriend. Right? Virgil chuckles uncertainly. He’s even tireder than he thought, to not catch the jesting tone. Or maybe Roman’s too tired and deadpanned too hard.

Probably a combination of both, Virgil decides. It is late. “I think I’d better not,” he says, trying to match Princey’s levity. “I don’t know if you snore.”

Roman gasps in pretend offense, pressing his hand to his chest. Then he leans forward and relates in a conspiratorial tone, “You didn’t hear this from me, but Logan snores like the most adorable rumbly kitten purr.”

“Does he?” Virgil says, grinning. Roman nods happily.

“He does,” he says. “It is adorable, but it does take some getting used to, so I can’t blame you for wanting your own room.” Roman yawns, then reaches up to pat Virgil’s shoulder. “Night, Spoops,” he says. “See you in… I dunno, prolly not the morning. See you tomorrow. Sleep well.”

“Good night, Princey,” Virgil answers. “Sleep well.”

Roman pats Virgil on the shoulder again, then shuffles off into his bedroom.

The room they had put Virgil in last time is nearly as he left it, except that the pajamas have been moved to the nightstand. Virgil carefully does not touch the bed as he changes, knowing that if he had been unwilling to leave it the first night, the exhaustion he can feel in his bones will make it a veritable black hole of comfort tonight.

Pajama-clad, Virgil turns off the light and climbs into bed. He sinks into the softness, comfort claiming him, and is asleep faster than he knew was humanly possible.

~~~~

Chapter 8: One Could Get Used to This

[funishment-time]

a load of recent official birthday posts from Kodaka!

(since i forgot to do it for a bit, Whoops)

under the cut are:

Mikan

Kirumi

Great Gozu

Nagito

Angie

and Mahiru

💉 Mikan:

autotranslate:

Tsumiki: "Eh...! There's no way someone like me would be celebrated like this...! I can at least tell that this is a prank! Please... stop teasing me...! Wait, what? It's not a prank? Is it really... a present that you sent me? Ehhhh...! Wh...why? I'm so happy I don't know what's going on...!"

🕸️ Kirumi:

autotranslate:

Tojo: "This is for me? I'm glad you remembered my birthday. As always, I'm not used to people doing things for me, so I'm not very good at thanking you, but if you ever need anything, please call me anytime. I'll serve you selflessly as a token of my appreciation."

🐂 Great Gozu:

autotranslate:

Great Gozu: "The time has come. That's all. I'm grateful for the birthday presents I receive every year. Thanks to all of your encouragement, I'm able to take a step forward without hesitation. Don't you get it, idiot?! Look at me with your eyes wide open! Now, everyone chant together! 1, 2, 3...great! Great! Thank you!"

🍀 Nagito's fucking Tale of Two Cities ass thesis:

autotranslate:

Komaeda: "As you all know, I'm just an ordinary piece of trash, with the only good thing about me being that I'm a little luckier than most people. It doesn't matter if I'm here or not, I'm an insignificant existence. The fact that you've given me such a present means that you all have high expectations of me. That I will be a stepping stone... of hope that will brighten up this worthless, hopeless world. I get it, because what this world needs most is hope. It's because we have hope that we can all look forward. Hope is everyone's salvation, and more than anything, it is a precious guidepost. And the darker the surroundings are, the more brilliantly that light shines. Of course, I don't think anyone wants unhappiness, but just as unhappiness allows us to understand the importance of happiness, hope shines because of despair. I'm going to do it. Don't you think fireworks that go off at night are more beautiful than those that go off during the day? If no one else does it, then I'll do it. Yes, I'll turn the surroundings into night. All for the sake of hope. And luckily, there are many seeds of hope that will shine with such a brilliant light right next to me. I'm just a supporting role. What? You're asking me if I don't mind dragging people who don't like the night into this? Haha, who cares about the dust around them when fireworks are dancing in the night sky? It's all for the sake of beautiful and wonderful hope. Everything else doesn't matter. Of course, the same goes for myself. In front of hope, everything is equally worthless trash. Right? Everyone loves hope, don't they? Haha, we're friends now."

🖌️ Angie:

autotranslate:

Yonaga Angie: "Those who believe will be saved. Those who don't believe won't be saved. Haha, I'm relieved that everyone believes in Angie. God is pleased too. Let's continue to believe in Angie and get closer to God. Fill your heads with Angie more and more and more. God will be pleased too. Everyone is godly!"

📷 Mahiru:

autotranslate:

Koizumi: "Are you giving me a birthday present too? Thank you. I'm really happy that you always celebrate with me. This feeling is enough for me, but I want to take a photo with everyone, too. When I look at the photo, I'll remember how I felt at this time, right? I want to be able to remember this feeling."

[sodapoppss]

Agent 3, agent 8 And Agent 4 angst

Been awhile since I wrote Soo Uhh may be a bit rusty

This takes place in the au where 3 hates 4 btw 3 is a massive jackass and 8 doesn't like 4 Either

~Agent 3 POV~

I was busy sketching in my sketchbook to notice whatever 4 was trying to show me not like that I'd care on whatever she wanted to show me honestly I could care less

I was too busy sketching agent 8... Gosh shes just so pretty I'm glad to be her friend I take a look at the drawing

(yes I took this from Octo expansion)

"heh she's so pretty..." I mumbled under my Breath "hey three!" Ugh and there was that annoying stupid voice that belonged to the one and only 4 or the failure as I like to nickname her

"what do you want now can't you see I'm busy." I say in an annoyed tone "sorry sorry but I got two tickets to this concert and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me!"

Four showed me the tickets I grabbed them and took a look at what band was playing "hah really Ink theory? I didn't think you had such a bad taste in music"

I dropped the tickets and stomped on them "but what else should I expect it's you and everything you do is bad" four crouches down to get the tickets as she was about to grab them I step on her hand

Four hisses in pain and she pulls her hand away "whoops sorry didn't see your hand there" I roll my eyes

"honestly your so pathetic I only slightly stepped on your hand and your already acting like I broke it" I glared at her

"honestly you are such a mistake I wonder why your parents even bothered with you oh wait I forgot they were too busy to take care of you." I laughed as four looked like she was gonna cry

"honestly why don't you just disappear it's not like you serve any purpose here anyways" just then 8 comes up from the grate "hey sorry did I miss anything?"

My expression immediately brightened I ran to 8 and gave her a hug "8 I missed you!" 8 chuckles "I missed you too..." just then Marie calls me over so I go over to where she was

~Agent 8 Pov~

I sat at the cabin waiting for 3 to come back when all the sudden 4 came to me I put on an annoyed smile

I really didn't want her to talk to me I honestly find her to be a pushover and to be quite frank annoying half the time

"oh hey 4 what's up?" I asked nervously "okay sooo I got some tickets to Ink theory's concert and was wondering if-"

"ooh uh sorry but I have plans with 3 so sorry" I said making up an excuse "Oh uh that's fine then I don't mind..."

Soon 3 comes back and we both leave Octo canyon

~agent 4 POV~

I watch as 3 and 8 leave forgetting about me or well they don't really care about me at all I held the tickets in my hand the only reason I bought these was so that maybe just maybe they would wanna hang out with me

But it seems like I was wrong they just ignored me like the others... I mean I know they hate me and wish I would just disappear but all I wanted was to be friends with them

[just-a-carrot]

Obligatory every now and then "thank you for making the games that you do" ask 😌 it is so rare to see queer and mental health representation as honest and in-depth as your games. A big reason I spend a lot of my time making whacky little OW drawings is because it always just brightens my mood, being able to draw little guys who are like me in a way a lot of ways I just don't see expressed often. As someone who is Rather Disabled and Rather Queer, it's nice to just... have games where being those things is okay. Seeing nonbinary representation as honest and open as Gidget honestly made me tear up when I saw it. As someone who has Been Through That Stuff (in places that were-- and probably still are-- life-threatening to be seen as queer), I felt so seen by them and what they've been through. (I also forgot to mention but I did get the Gidget haircut eventually 😌 gender/10) ANYWAYS. Sorry if this ask got too Personal or anything I am a horrible judge of stuff like that 😅 but I did want to say thanks. (Also while I'm at it, thanks for answering the many asks I send about incredibly random topics related to the blorbos. I get very anxious about sending them so I don't half the time [nothing to do with anyone, I am just Anxiety: The Rabbit], but for the times I do, thank you for entertaining the asks even if they are utterly ridiculous most of the time haha. (And thanks for the help/feedback on dev-related stuff too, it's appreciated 😌 the comment left on TRJ still brightens my day whenever I think about it because I thought while making it that no one would enjoy it... but receiving that shortly after publishing it assuaged my fears by quite a bit so I'd just like to say thanks for that too. (...Whoops I think I have made a message Utterly Too Long but I hope it gets the points across??? Maybe??? Hopefully???)

weep this is incredibly sweet???? 😭💕

it literally brings me the utmost joy when people can see parts of themselves in my chars or relate to my char at all or feel seen, etc. also because a big part of this game is based on my own experiences and struggles so it helps ME feel seen when OTHERS also feel seen because then we can all relate together and maybe feel a little less alone in the experiences we've gone through in life

LKDJALFKDSFADF PLEASE DON'T EVER BE ANXIOUS ABOUT SENDING IN ASKS I LITERALLY LOVE RESPONDING TO THEM????? (tho i get it it would probably make me anxious too now matter how many times someone said that LOL) but fr i love going through my ask box and answering silly little questions. especially lately my anxiety's been cranked up to 11 so getting to distract myself with silliness is oftentimes a lovely godsend 💕

AND OFC 🥺 i always want to help in any way i can and also just spread love as much as i can. being a dev in general can feel so isolating, especially when we're neck-deep in deeply personal projects that take a lot out of us to work on (no matter how much we love them lakdfad). it helps knowing we've got others out there that can support us and have our backs and a little community of small devs that can relate to each others' issues and boost each other up

LDKJFALDFKA DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT thank you so much for this sweet message!! i got a bit teary-eyed reading it sob 😭💕

[emupow]

UT/DR NEWSLETTER TIME!!

i woke up a little late so this is probably already common information now, but here are some things i picked up on and noticed!!

queen and rouxls ex lovers?? hello?

think that’s pretty obvious because not only had he forgot what she looks like (referencing being BLOCKED) but it'd also directed at queen. sobbing.

also lancer my unbothered king!! no assumptions from him here!!

his ass is NOT judgemental at all. love him my silly.

noelle’s card having christmas lights is adorable

noelle i love her sm <3 she’s adorable and keeping festive spirit all year round!!

those were most of the one’s i got from the valentines cards!! although i do think the anonymous letter might be reference to alphys? based on the amv mention. bc ik damn well she would be big on amvs. brightened the page up to try and see if the qr code mentioned was up anywhere but no luck :c

okay onto the interview.. not much here but obviously based on concept art clear cowboy/wild west theme which i think coincides with the. cup guy believe it or not.

dont know what it is about this cup but that FEATHER. i’m telling you it reminds me of a saloon. but then again they said concept art had deviated heavily so.. not sure. i am thinking that they gotta play wild west on that tv set or smthn right now. uwa.

i forgot to inspect element and check if the files on the interview page lead to any hints and as im posting this i am on the phone and cannot be bothered to get onto the pc!

also susie and noelle are so cute. really hope we see more development with them in the future!

that’s most of the things i picked up on. i for sure missed LOADS and i only skimmed through the code so idk if i missed any secrets,, so excited chapter 3 and 4 are in our grasp.. (hardly)

update. HOOOW DID I MISS THIS?? WHOOP IS THIS RHIS DOESNY TALK LIKE GASTER

[jellostories]

AJ the Very Whimsical, Ch. 21: By the Book

To Mrs. Contreras, who taught me how to read

The library at NorthStarr Elementary was supposed to be a "gateway to the imagination," according to the posters plastered across the walls. Shelves overflowed with books "for the mind, body, and soul" – books AJ desperately wanted to explore. But there was one tiny problem.

"'Evsa – eht – olphdnis!'" she muttered, squinting at the page. "'Evsa mhte ghtir--' Ugh, forget it!"

AJ slammed her book, The Little Dolphin Hero, onto the table and slumped back in her chair, defeated.

Across from her, Twist glanced up from The Incredible Adventures of Willy J. Anthill, her brow furrowed. "Forget what, AJ?"

"I can't read!" AJ wailed, her voice a comical imitation of a distressed goat. "The words are all jumbled up like alphabet soup! They don't make any sense! Look!"

She slid the book across the table. Twist marked her page in Willy J. Anthill and picked up Dolphin Hero.

"'Save the dolphins!'" Twist read aloud, making AJ's jaw plummet. "'Save the dolphins right now!' Dory shouted into her megaphone, but nobody listened. They just ignored her and went on their way to school or work or wherever. Dory felt more and more…"

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF GRAPES!?" AJ shrieked, her voice piercing the quiet library.

Twist flinched, dropping the book with a thud. Miss Copper, the librarian, glared at them from her perch behind the counter.

"Shhh!" she hissed.

"Excusez-moi," AJ whispered, flashing a sheepish grin and an awkward salute.

She turned back to Twist, her green eyes wide with disbelief. "How can you read this thing!?" she whisper-shouted, snatching the book back and flipping through the pages.

"How can you not read it?" Twist countered, pointing at the words. "It's not like it's written in some crazy language or anything."

"It is too!" AJ insisted. "It's written in…in…Nonsense-ish or Gooblygook! That's why I can't read it! I swear on my papa's grave!"

"Angel," Twist said calmly, "are you sure it's not your dyslexia acting up? Because that would—"

"NO!" AJ shouted, slamming her fist on the table. "Ouchies!"

Miss Copper shot them another withering glare.

"SHHH!" she hissed, louder this time.

"Sorry!" and "Excusez-moi!" AJ and Twist chorused, their faces flushed.

Lowering her voice, AJ continued, "It is written in Nonsense-ish, and I'll prove it!"

Twist scoffed. "Wanna bet, Moptop?"

"Sure!" AJ chirped, her mood brightening instantly. "I've always wanted to gamble, but Mommy says I'm too young, and our pastor says it's evil."

"Wait, you're not a Buddhist!?" Twist blurted out, aghast.

"Shhh!" hissed Miss Copper.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day.

"DIIIIIING!"

"Shhhh!" Miss Copper hissed again, as if daring the bell to a duel.

"Ding-ding!" the bell retorted. ~~~~

Later that afternoon, Twist and AJ huddled around the computer in Blaze's room. They had agreed that the loser of their bet would get a face full of mud and a back full of leaves. Twist snickered as she typed in the URL for AskaWay.com. "You're going to lose, Angel."

AJ shook her head. "Nuh-uh, you are! I'm even going to call the DJ at K.U.R.B. and have them play victory songs for my epic win! Just you wait!"

She grabbed the phone, dialed the radio station, and was met with a burst of static.

"Oh! Whoops!" AJ giggled, hanging up. "I forgot The Internet's connected to the phone line! Heeheehaha!"

Twist rolled her eyes and typed her query into the search bar: "what language was The Little Dolphin Girl by Serena Fishmonger written in?"

The search results loaded, and Twist nearly toppled off her chair in shock.

AJ, mistaking Twist's reaction for defeat, jumped up and down, clapping her hands. "Ooh la la! Does this mean I win?"

"No," Twist gulped. "We…we both lost…"

AJ's jaw dropped. "WHAT!?"

Twist read the results aloud: "Serena Fishmonger, a native of the Nonsensical Commonwealth country of Tobacle, originally wrote The Little Dolphin Girl in her mother tongue, Nonsense-ish. In 1902, 40 years after it was originally published, the novel was finally translated into English."

The girls stared at each other, their faces pale with dread. There was only one thing left to do…

~~~~

Minutes later, they were rolling around in the muddiest patch of AJ's backyard, fulfilling their bet.

"So, this is why Mom and Dad keep telling me not to gamble," Twist mumbled through a layer of grime.

"I love gumbo!" AJ declared.

[sunjaesol]

a random human!juke draft i found

Being loved by Julie Molina was insane. Like, "about to go bungee jumping"-insane. That constant rush in his stomach, that adrenaline kick every time he pulled her into a kiss. He had no idea if it made any sense, but love was kind of hard to explain in general. (Maybe that was why he hasn't written a love song yet. Even after getting together with Julie, the right words never came. He liked living in the moment though, so it was fine.)

But it was insane. The littlest things Julie did made him so ridiculously happy and he was still trying to wrap his head around it.

Like now, when he thought it would just be a regular school day, she reminded him how incredibly lucky he was to be with her.

It started like normal. That morning, he walked up to her, kissed her cheek and said "Good morning" with a grin solely meant for her.

With her own dazzling smile, she gave him a once-over. Shifting closer, she grinned. "You look good."

He quirked a brow. "Unlike... Other times?"

"No," she chuckled. Her fingers plucked at the sleeve of his purple henley. He recently got it while thrifting with Reggie on Venice. "I just really like this on you. You look good, Luke."

It was stuff like that. It was small and kind of superficial, but she instantly brightened his morning with a compliment that rivalled the kick of an espresso. Now, every time he'd look into his closet and see this shirt, he'd think of her. How everything made him think of her. Streets and buildings and colours and scents and people. She was everywhere and his world was better because of it.

(All because of some fucking compliment. He was gone for her.)

"Thanks," he smiled.

She edged closer, playful, and wrapped her arms around him. "I wouldn't mind borrowing it."

"Ah." His thumb brushed against her chin. "The plan gets revealed."

"That I'm a basic girlfriend that wants your clothes?"

He got in her face, scrunching his nose. “That you’re stingy.”

She gawked and gently swatted his arm. “I'm never asking you anything again.”

“Nah,” he grinned, hands trailing from her cheeks to her shoulders and feeling that warm giddiness in his stomach again. His nails scratched against her sweater, trying to not actually whoop out loud. “You can borrow it. Borrow it.”

The tender smile came back, Julie’s eyes glittering as she quickly reached up and pecked his lips. (He has kissed plenty of girls before Julie. None have ever given him that spark from a chaste kiss that lasted less then a second. If he were in a musical, he’d burst into a song right now.)

She murmured against his lips. “Thank you.”

Then she slipped from his grasp and told him she'd see him in music class. Right as he about to start moving, Julie looked over her shoulder and did one of those exaggerated "I’m checking you out" once-overs, like he did onstage whenever they played up the chemistry for the audience. He laughed, his face probably so fucking goofy, as he yelled at her to get her butt to class. She could be a bigger flirt than him if she wanted to. And he was in love. That thought never stopped. He loved her, loved her, loved her - a tune his body has been singing for months now. (It was even better that she knew.) 

It was a particularly warm March afternoon, so the group has settled themselves on the grass for lunch in a wonky circle. Kayla and Reggie were discussing a show they were both watching, Alex and Flynn were doing a Buzzfeed quiz. Luke pulled Julie down with him, the shade of the tree filtering the blaring sun. Sighing, he closed his eyes. Outside, with the sun on his skin and Julie pressed next to him, he momentarily forgot they were at school. Reprieve from the stress and secretly pretending this was a little date. Peeling a clementine, she wordlessly placed half on his chest.

“You don't want it?”

Her breath was on his shoulder. “Kind of the point of a clementine is to share it.”

Luke plopped a part in his mouth, humming in agreement. Her foot nudged his.

“I know we're going to San Francisco for spring break, but I was thinking that maybe going to one of those big parks would be fun too.”

He quirked a brow at her. Though Julie was many things, a camper she was not. “You wanna sleep in a tent?”

She made a face. “I hadn't thought of that. I was just thinking about it since...” She gestured at their bodies. “I like laying on the grass with you.”

“You're making us sound like old people, Jules.”

She giggled and turned on her side. With the golden sunlight beating down on her, she looked fucking ethereal and, honestly, illegal. He withheld the urge to kiss her for the sake of their friends and settled on watching her lips move as she spoke.

“No, I'm giving us date ideas!” Her foot hooked with his. “Like, I can just imagine us-”

“Ooh.”

“-in SF, laying in a park - not a big park, just a normal park - and just...” Her smile mellowed. “Be I guess. Do I sound weird?”

He shook his head. “No, I get it.” Grabbing her hand and weaving their fingers together, he added: “That sounds nice. Let's be old together, Jules.”

Her eyes widened and he belatedly realised what he said. What the fuck. Why the fuck did he say that? A nervous chuckle left his lips, all of a sudden the move to grab her hand way too intimate, but also unable to let go. He hoped the awkward smile saved him. “Y'know what I mean...”

“Yeah,” she rushed, breathy. Her eyes were timid. “No, yeah, I knew what you meant, not like-”

“Yeah. Exactly.”

Like the perfect girlfriend she was, she washed away the awkward energy by shifting closer and placing her head on the soft spot between shoulder and chest. Snuggling into him and setting his heart ablaze, she whispered: “Rehearsal for our old people date.”

He chuckled and threw his arms around her, calloused fingers circling in soothing motions on the strip of skin at her waist. When they just got together, he foolishly thought he already knew everything there was to know about her. That he knew how this relationship would go, that he knew how he’d love her. How he thought that, in the first few months, the love he felt for her then couldn’t be surpassed - yet here he was. The magnitude of his feelings still haven’t settled yet, so insurmountable that he would later realise he wasn’t at all freaked out about his slip-up. It was a stupid thing to say, but it didn’t sound wrong. To eighteen year old Luke, it was a quiet truth.   

The gentle warmth rippling his skin from the sundrenched quad and Julie’s smile on his chest lasted until the bell rang. 

[aceofspadegrass]

Cake! Heaven! Now!

Characters: Kuina Hikari, Ann Rizuna, Tatta Koudai

Genre: Fluff. It's Kuina and Ann baking a cake. Oh, and Tatta's there too. He's vibing. :D

1.5k words

Nobody really thought that much about food at the Beach.The kitchen was always well stocked, and people always offered to cook food for the many people that resided there, and by grand chances there were always a few cooks here or there. There was little guarantee that all the cooks would be the same by the end of the day, thanks to the threat of death looming over everyone within the Borderlands, but there wasn’t a shortage of good food.

Between the meal times, the kitchen was usually always empty, save for the occasional person who would sneak in for a snack or people coming in to restock the pantries and fridges. The doors were always open, and nobody really thought about using it for anything bad, since there was so much more things they could be focusing their time on. Like being drunk. Or singing All Star in the bathroom.

But that’s not what Kuina was here for, going through the pantries and looking for the items she needed. She had woken up that morning which a slight craving for cake, and after briefly hanging out with Chishiya and watching him turn a Rubik’s Cube into a salt shaker, she ended up in the kitchen.

Kuina was so deep in attempting to find the flour she didn’t notice someone walk into the kitchen and watch her until she found the flour and turn around, Kuina humming in mild surprise when she spotted Ann standing there and looking at all of the stuff she had set out.

“ What’s the occasion?” “ Hm?” Ann gestures to the baking supplies. “ You’re making a cake? For what occasion?" Kuina looks at the flour in her hand, then back up at Ann with a smile. “ Wanna make a cake with me, Ann?” Ann stands there silently, staring back. Kuina doesn’t falter, and she comes over and sets down the flour and goes to wash her hands. Ann ends up following her to the sink and washes her hands as well, Kuina flashing her another smile. “ Aww, you do!” “ I have nothing else to do, and I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.” Kuina chuckles, and she goes back to the little baking station she set up, opening up the bag of flour and grabbing a measuring cup. “ Yeah! Hey, maybe you can start with all the wet ingredients!” Ann nods, but she makes a detour to the oven first, preheating it. “ You almost forgot to preheat the oven, Kuina. We would’ve had to wait longer.” Kuina looks back, then giggles. “ Oh, whoops. Thanks Ann!” Ann merely nods, and she comes back, grabbing the other bowl and starting to add in the wet ingredients. She idly picks up the bag of cocoa powder, raising a curious eyebrow. “ A chocolate cake?”

“ Mmhmm. Thought I might as well have some pizzaz. Do you like chocolate cakes, Ann?” “ I prefer vanilla, actually, but chocolate isn’t that bad.” Ann stirs the mixture, glancing at the piece of paper that had the recipe on it so she didn’t use the wrong proportions. Kuina pours the cocoa powder into boiling water and stirs so it would become smooth, already finished with mixing up the dry ingredients. “ Vanilla’s a good flavour too. I think Chishiya would like vanilla, he seems like he wouldn’t want anything too exciting." “ I could see that.” Ann finishes mixing, and she adds it to the dry mixture slowly as Kuina starts mixing it together. The hot cocoa mixture went in last, Kuina making sure everything was properly incorporated, and soon they had a bowl full of chocolate cake mix.

She smiles, and she pokes a finger against the spatula and licks it off. “ Mmmm, cake mix~” “ That’s raw batter, you do realize that, right?” “ Yeah? So?” Kuina looks to Ann with a smile. “ Cake batter is good as hell! Here, try some!” She holds the chocolate batter covered spatula towards Ann, who just stares at it, then back up at Kuina. Kuina just kindly smiles at her, and Ann sighs, slowly pushing her hand away. “ I’m going to decline for now. I’m sure it’ll be just as good when it’s baked in the oven.” Ann says, and Kuina pouts a little playfully, her stick leaning against her lip and nearly threatening to fall off. It stays on, and Kuina picks up the bowl and goes over to the pans, which weren’t even lined. Kuina laughs a little, still holding the bowl as she looks over at Ann. “ Um…. Ann? A little help?” “ Did you forget to prep the pans as well?” Ann comes over, grabbing the cooking spray. Kuina just quietly laughs. “ The call of the cakes were pulling me in, you can’t blame me. I promise I’m not this forgetful, I just was excited to make some cake!” Ann sprays the pans down, then lines them with parchment paper. “ So it would seem. I believe you are quite capable of remembering, otherwise you would have never made it this far within this world. I can’t blame you, when something catch your attention, it’s hard to not focus on it.” Kuina nods excitedly. “ See? The call of the cake!” She starts pouring the batter into the pan, which was large enough to take all of the batter prepared comfortably, Kuina making sure to scrape the bowl for maximum chocolatey goodness. She sets the bowl down and takes the pan, going over to the oven and carefully sliding it in and closing the oven. There was a little egg timer nearby, Kuina picking it up and turning it to the 35 minute mark. She sets the egg down on the benchtop and nods in approval, staring at the oven. “ Mission success, one cake now baking!” Ann just offers a small amount of applause, Kuina beaming to herself. She turns around and holds her hand out for a high five, Ann raising an eyebrow again. “ Oh?” “ High five, Ann! We did it!” Kuina chirps, and she continues to hold her hand out. Ann looks at Kuina, then huffs with an amused smile, and meets her hand with her own, Kuina grinning even wider.

“ We did it.” Ann looks at the oven. “ I suppose you’re not going to be leaving the kitchen, are you." “ I mean, someone has to make sure the cake doesn’t burn the Beach down! Wouldn’t that be a terrifying sight to see.” Ann nods. “ That would certainly be quite unsettling to see. Hopefully it doesn’t happen any time soon.” “ Yeah, it’s pretty nice here.” Kuina smiles, knowing full well that there was a chance she may need to somehow escape unscathed if the event came.

“ So, while we wait then, what do you want to talk about?” Ann asks, and Kuina looks at her, eyes widening a little in surprise.

“ ‘We’? You’re staying with me?” Ann shrugs, crossing her arms over her chest. “ I see no reason why not. It would be pretty lonely staying here by yourself, and I would rather like to see the product of the cake we both had a hand in making.” Kuina smiles, and she ends up launching herself into a conversation about the different games the both of them had gone through. Neither mentioned any of the deaths that may have occurred, more focused on how the games worked and how they managed to get through.

The minutes ticked by quickly, and the egg timer rings, Kuina visibly brightening up and going to the oven immediately, making sure to grab the oven mitts on the way. Ann watches in amusement as she pulls out the hot pan out from the oven, the cake sitting prettily in the center. Ann pulls a toothpick out from a little container nearby and pokes the cake, pulling it out cleanly. “ It’s perfect! Yes-“ Kuina cheers to herself, and she grabs the edges of the parchment sticking out, and with a count to three, she quickly pulls out the chocolate cake and sets it on a plate she had set out. She smiles at it like a proud cake mother, and she grabs a knife and carefully cuts the little dome off, which she just kind of sets aside. “ Okay, now I just have to chill it for a bit, then we can frost it!” Kuina picks up the plate and walks to the fridge. There was already someone there, casually drinking milk straight out of a carton. “ Hi Tatta.” Kuina greets. Tatta waves quietly, stepping aside as Kuina opens the fridge and puts the cake inside and leaves Tatta to his own devices. Ann was cleaning the used equipment now, humming to herself. “ Need some help?” Kuina offers, and Ann merely steps aside to let Kuina squeeze in and help wash everything up.

By the time they finished, the cake was chilled enough that Kuina could take it back out. The frosting was already premade, apparently leftover from some other dessert. Thankfully, it wasn’t some crazy flavour that clashed with the chocolate, and soon they had a fully frosted chocolate cake. Kuina was grinning happily. “ Alright! We did it Ann!” Kuina cheers once more, and Ann nods to the fact.

“ We did it.” Ann answers back, and suddenly Kuina has a cake knife, brandishing it like a proud cake mom as Ann politely steps away to not get accidentally hit by it. “ Well, time to eat our beautiful creation! I’ll bring some to Chishiya later, if he wants some. Tatta, come over here, you get cake too-“ “ Oh, yay!”

[wondersofdreaming]

The Smile

Characters: Henry Cavill x female reader

Word count: 689

Warnings: None. It’s pure sugary fluff.

Author’s note: I can’t believe it, you guys! I’ve reached a whooping 1K followers! 💘💝💖💗💓💞💕

As a celebration, here’s a little fic inspired by William Blake’s ‘The Smile’.

Thank you for following me, I appreciate every single one of you! 💜

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

Tag: @katerka88 @littlefreya @hell1129-blog @mitzwinchester @mary-ann84 @valkavill @sciapod @henry-cavlll @luclittlepond @iloveyouyen @trippedmetaldetector @radaofrivia @omgkatinka @gothwhopper @fcgrizi @alyxkbrl @singeramg @onlyhenrys @henrythickcavill @madbaddic7ed @palaiasaurus64​ @queenslandlover-93​ @magdelen69​ @shellbilee​ @kaatelyyynn​ @mis-lil-red @vania-marie @tumblnewby

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list.

MASTERLIST

Feedback is appreciated.

Do me a favour and reblog with a gif or picture of your favourite Henry-smile, so we can all enjoy it together 💙

Here are some of mine 💚

(Gif credits goes to these lovelies: @demivampirew​ and @henry-cavlll​)

What makes your knees wobbly?

His smile. His face, in general, made your heart skip a beat, your legs shake, making your stomach doing flipflops, and your brain to malfunction.

Henry Cavill was a chameleon. A jack of all trades, master of all. The pièce de r��sistance.

For every role he had played, he had a smile. The smile of love for Lois, when he portrayed Clark Kent/Superman. A smile of deceit when he played August Walker, the anti-hero who should have gotten his own movie with an explanation for his choices.

Then there was Henry’s smile. The smile of smiles. The only smile that could brighten the room even in darkness. A smile so powerful it could turn a frown upside down.

“Sweetheart, I can feel you staring at me,” Henry grinned from his desk. You stood at the door, watching him play one of his games. You could see his reflection through the screen. That smile. Those gorgeous plump lips, perfectly shaped, perfect for kissing and biting. He had even mastered how to pleasure a woman with just his tongue or his long thick fingers.

“Do you want help with something?” He asked, pausing his game. He turned around in his office chair. His piercing blue eyes looking straight into your soul, purifying it with his light.

“Yes, you forgot something,” you retorted and walked over to sit on his lap. He wrapped his muscular arms around you, keeping you in place.

A frown showed on his handsome face. The perfectly carved jaw was tense, and his eyes were searching for an answer.

“You were so busy getting up to put your computer together, you forgot to give me a good morning kiss.”

The frown disappeared. His brows relaxed and lips curved into his most killer smile. The one where he showed his fangs. It was the strongest smile he had in his arsenal. That smile could give you a heart attack and bring you back to life in one go.

“I didn’t forget, my love. You were just asleep when I kissed you good morning.”

“That doesn’t count. Now you have to give me five kisses.”

“Whatever the lady wants. I have an endless supply of kisses for you, sweetheart.”

Henry put his large palm behind your head and guided your lips to meet his. He was beaming at you through your kiss. A soft sigh leaving your lips as he moved his down your neck.

“Mmmm… Henry.”

“Do you want to say something?” He teased.

“You have the most beautiful smile I have ever seen,” you cup his cheeks and make him look at you. “Your lips were made by a perfectionistic artist. The tiny freckle on your bottom lip does things to me, I can’t even explain what. The dimples in your cheeks are to die for. Your smile, my angel, can melt my panties off and it can turn my depressing day into a positive one.”

“You say the sweetest things, darling, but it is you who has the most gorgeous smile.”

“Let me prove it to you. Feel my heart beating.”

You flattened his massive hand over your heart. You felt your heart beating.

“Now give me your sweetest smile.”

He grinned from ear to ear at your weird suggestion, but his face fell quickly as he felt your heart beating faster, almost galloping. You gasped at his dazzling face.

“I do that?” He asked puzzled.

“You do. My heart is in your hands or rather your smile.”

“Then I shall smile at you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“‘But soft, what light through yonder window breaks? It is the east, and Henry is the sun.’”

“Did you just quote Shakespeare and changed Juliet into my name?”

“I did, what are you going to do? Kill me with your smile? Because I’d die a happy woman.”

“No, I want to hear you recite me a poem. Any poem.”

You ponder for a moment. You went to the bookshelf and found the one you were looking for. The complete collection of William Blake’s poetry.

“The smile by William Blake.”

[the-power-of-stuff]

Super pumped for Sukka week prompt voting this next week!!!

Do you have a favorite book or movie or anything at all that really gives you Sukka AU vibes? Or any sort of genre (sitcom, crime, spy thriller, etc etc) that you’d like to read/write them in?

Thank you for being a wonderful human being—have a great day!

Ahh, thank you so much @boomerangguy!! You always brighten my day whenever I hear from you. 🥰

And thank you for this question! I loved thinking about it, and I really did have to think about this answer for a while because something about the ATLA universe usually has me sticking close to canon. And I don't really know why, because I will read the crap out of AUs for every other fandom I'm in!

As far as favorite books/movies/etc. that give me Sukka AU vibes...there's this Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers movie called Roberta...

It's one of my favorite movies ever and is my favorite of Fred and Ginger's collaborations. In it, Fred and Ginger play supporting roles to the main conflict/love story, but I absolutely adore their chemistry and their relationship, and the way they mess with each other but obviously have this very close connection gives me total Sukka vibes. They kind of scheme together in the background a bit, and they are so clearly partners in this movie, and it reminds me of how in ATLA, Sokka and Suki's relationship seems to develop mostly off screen, but we get all these wonderful hints at the depth of their affection for each other through their casual gestures and teasing.

Not gonna lie, I did start musing a while ago about how I could do a Sukka fic based on this movie with elements that would better fit the ATLA universe. But then I forgot about it until now, lol. So...it's back on the idea pile!

Another thing I've vaguely thought would be cool to see is some kind of alternate mythology AU. For example, I kinda like the idea of Sky God Sokka and Earth Goddess Suki... Y'know how a lot of creation myths have the Sky (or, like, the "Heavens") and the Earth hooking up? Like that. But that's as far as the idea goes. 😅

I even thought about commissioning someone to do a drawing of this (and I have the artist in mind, too!), but the idea is just soooo vague I'd be afraid of not being able to provide enough guidance. So, y'know, if anyone wants to write something like this, I will eat it up!

That got very long for a question I didn't even think I'd have an answer to at first! Whoops... But thank you again so much for the ask and for being so lovely @boomerangguy! You are a gem. 💖 (And I am also super pumped for prompt voting!!)

[karlnapity]

everyone that’s so close to me.

tws: panic attack, minor self-injury (hitting)

he isn’t sure where he is, at first. his vision is blurry, black spots dancing at the edges of his view. as he comes to, he’s able to tell he’s sitting cross-legged on a wool floor. his hands curl in the soft cloth of the hoodie he’s wearing, and he focuses on messing with it with shaking hands. 

he’s sitting in what seems to be a small library, a dark room covered with books on every spare surface, piled on tables and open in stands. he grabs the nearest one, opens it. his vision makes it hard to focus on the words, and his brain is so fuzzy he can barely understand what he’s reading, but after a few moments he can make out a few words:

don’t forget who you are.

anger flares deep in his chest. great, super fucking useful. before he even knows what he’s doing, he’s tearing the page in half, then in more and more pieces until there’s tiny scraps strewn across his lap.

he sits back as his vision swims, leaning against one of the bookcases. he wonders if he wrote the note himself, wonders what he’s doing here, where here even is. 

he takes another book off a pile. the same thing, the same note. he falls into a sort of rhythm: read, rip, repeat. he leaves the few that look important. his brain isn’t able to work out more than “mizu,” but he knows enough to leave it be. he finds scribbling in a few books and destroys those too.

he’s not sure how long he continues tearing, frustration the only thing on his addled brain, but soon enough he’s sitting in a pile of fucked up confetti. 

he hears voices somewhere up above, but he can’t quite get himself to focus, and he’s far too tired to even consider standing. he leans back again, closes his eyes, lets his thoughts drift. 

the voices grow closer until he can’t ignore them anymore. 

“what the fuck is this?” one of them asks. they sound like they’re underwater.

“some kinda secret room?” the other offers. there’s the creak of a door, then the first one swears, loudly. his head hurts.

“karl?” 

he ignores them, keeps his eyes closed. they must be talking to someone else. the other one repeats the name.

“karl!” someone shakes his shoulder, and he jumps back. he blinks his eyes open, and pulls back.

there’s two people in front of him. the one who touched his shoulder is dressed in a beanie and some sort of tracksuit, his hand still outstretched. the other stands behind him, black hair tied back with a headband. he’s the one who speaks.

“are you ok, babe?”

his head swims. what’s happening? what is happening?

he shakes his head, stares at the mess around him, stares at the two strangers. he pulls his hands close to himself, fiddles in the hoodie in a nervous gesture. shakes his head again.

the one in the beanie crouches next to him, reaches out a hand, and he takes it, hesitantly. the other is quick to sit on his other side, rest a hand on his leg. 

“karl, baby, what’s wrong?”

he opens and closes his mouth a couple times, finding himself unable to talk. he’s not even sure he remembers how. 

“don’t want to talk?” headband asks, and he’s so grateful. he nods, hesitantly. 

“the fuck is this room?” beanie muses, looking around. his leg bounces, and it’s clear he wants to stand and explore, but he’s still holding his hand. 

headband takes that as his cue and stands, looking around. he starts to read the names of the books around the room. his voice lulls him into a sort of relaxation as he makes comments and cracks half-assed jokes about what he’s reading. beanie squeezes his hand and leans into his side, and he doesn’t pull away this time. 

headband and beanie say a few more things, but he’s tired, confused, and he can’t quite make sense of what they’re saying. beanie pulls away from him and he almost falls over, but soon enough they each have a hand and are pulling him to his feet. he stumbles a bit, and he’s so, so tired he almost collapses against headband’s side, but they catch him and help him steady himself. 

they lead him upstairs, painstakingly but so patient. he curls in bed as soon as they lay him down. he can hear them whispering outside the room but he doesn’t care, passing out almost immediately. he’s too tired to do anything else, bits of ripped up paper still clinging to his hoodie.

>

he wakes slowly, painfully. his head still pounds, and as he sits up his vision is still blurry. he needs to go. he needs to go somewhere.

he stumbles out of bed, almost cracking his head on the wall as he wavers on his feet. he braces himself as he makes his way down the hallway. his feet know the layout of the house even if his brain doesn’t, and soon enough he finds himself in the kitchen.

headband is standing there, and he turns as he hears karl. when he catches sight of him, his face both brightens and falls in some sort of paradox, but he lets him help him to the sofa all the same.

“how are you feeling?” his face is so gentle, and he reaches out a hand to cup his face. 

he feels bad pushing him away but he still doesn’t know what’s happening.

and he can’t help it. that’s it. he’s tired, and he’s confused, and he doesn’t know these people, and he doesn’t know why they’re touching him and he doesn’t know why he trusts them and he doesn’t know where he is and he doesn’t know when he is, and he doesn’t know why that’s even a question.

and he starts to cry. 

it starts out quiet, just small hiccups as the other, the stranger, pulls him into a hug, but soon enough it devolves into full-on sobs and wails. the other man must come in because he hears talking and soon enough there’s another set of arms around him.

he wants to pull away, he doesn’t know these people, he doesn’t know what’s going on, his brain isn’t fucking working, he can’t do this, he can’t-

he pulls a hand free from their hugs and knocks the palm of his hand against his temple, hard.

the others exclaim, cup his hands in theirs, and he lets out a few noises of frustration, and he finds his voice.

“stop!” he shouts, and he’s not even sure what or who he’s saying it to, but he can’t stop, he can’t stop repeating it, and he’s just shouting.

the others let him, and he’s pretty sure beanie even lets out a celebratory whoop, encouraging him, ironic as it might be. 

eventually he quiets, and they’re still holding him, and he’s grateful. he falls back into their embrace. headband lets him go, ruffles his hair. his smile is sad as he pretends everything is normal, as he says, “i’m gonna go make breakfast now.”

beanie brushes his hair out of his face, straightens his hoodie, and looks him in the eye. there’s no smile on his face as he cups a hand around his head and looks into unfocused eyes and says, “karl, please, baby, i love you. please tell me what’s going on.”

he’s found his voice. it’s rusty from screaming, but it’s his all the same. it cracks as he says, “i don’t fucking know.”

“what’d you mean?”

“i don’t know what’s going on, i don’t know why i’m here, i don’t know who you are or who i am, i don’t remember,” he says, growing hysterical at the last words. he reaches out to grab the other’s arm in seek of support.

beanie huffs in disbelief, leaning back against the sofa. “... fuck. fuck. are you serious?”

he seems to search his face for some sign of a prank, like it’s simply not possible. he rubs his hands over his face, resting it in his hands for a couple seconds. then he takes his hand, hooks their fingers together. “ok. what do you need to know?”

he bites his lip. “everything.”

>

karl. his name’s karl.

his husbands’ names are sapnap and quackity. he can already feel it slipping from his mind, and as he sits on the sofa he stares at a spot on the floor and repeats it over and over. sapnap, quackity, karl. karl, karl, karl. 

the name sounds funny in his mouth, so he mumbles it over, and over, and over. headband-sapnap sits next to him and listens to him mumble to himself and grips his arm like he’s afraid he’ll slip away. maybe he will. 

the finer details of the situation are already disappearing from reach, and he struggles to hold onto them. something about l’manburg, manburg, a war or two, something.

he knows they’re important. he knows that he had something to do with it, but he can’t remember. he knows it has something to do with what he was doing before he <i>forgot.</i>

he stumbles to his feet. sapnap makes a startled sort of noise when he pulls free from his hold, but he’s on a mission now. he’s still tripping a bit, but it doesn’t matter. 

he climbs back down to where they found him the night before, to the mysterious room hidden under their house. the door was left ajar and the torn-up paper is still there. it’s sort of comforting. he knows something. he knew the paper would be here. he knows how it got there. he knows something. 

he crouches, rifles his hands through the small piles while headband- headband- sapnap watches. he catches words here and there. remember. who.

it answers nothing, and tensions start to rise. he can’t remember. he doesn’t know what this is, but he knows it’s important. he stands, pieces still clenched in his fists, moves to the books and the sketches. mizu, masquerade, beach. none of it makes sense.

tears prick his eyes, fists full of paper shaking. he can’t remember. he can’t remember.

someone touches his shoulder, and he flinches. a man with a headband is reaching out to him. he knows who this is.

he does. he hiccups, and the man pulls him into a hug. 

“who?” he asks, voice watery. the stranger clutches him closer.

“sapnap. one of your husbands.” he’s crying too. 

he fists in his husband’s shirt, holding him close. he wants to say something, but he’s not sure he can.

“i love you, karl, i love you,” sapnap murmurs into his shoulder. “whatever it takes, just tell me what you need.”

he knows this: 

his name is karl. 

his head hurts.

bits of paper flutter to the ground.

[izzielizzie]

could u do a short Rosalind and Tommy fic?

This is by no means short and also it’s not that great but enjoy anyway! Also? the football coach? Definitely took some inspiration from my soccer coach. 

Tommy was having, to put it plainly, a terrible day.

It had started that morning, when he awoke to the most obnoxious bang he had ever heard. Not fully awake yet, Tommy jumped, falling out of his bed.

"Where's the canon?" Tommy mumbled, running his fingers through his rumpled dark hair. It took him a moment to realize that he wasn't talking to anyone. Tommy made the effort to scramble off the floor and venture out of his room, calling for his parents as he looked into the rooms of his house. Empty. He glanced out of the kitchen window and saw his older brother Nick in the driveway. "Nick?"

"Out here Kid!" Nick called back from the driveway.

"Obviously," Tommy mumbled. Nick was back from the military for a two month long vacation, something that had been as much of a surprise to Nick as it had been to his loved ones, and in the past three days Nick had managed to cause general chaos on their beloved Gardam Street.

Tommy pushed through the side door, bypassing the coat rack on his way out. This was his first mistake.

He stepped into the frigid early December air to see Nick staring into the hood of his car.

"What was that noise?" Tommy asked, stepping up next to his brother.

"The car, I -"

"Hello," a voice called from across the street, interrupting Nick. The brothers turned to see Rosalind, Skye, and Jane Penderwick trekking across the frost covered street to their house, Jane in the lead, waving at them. "Whoops," she said as she nearly slipped. Tommy saw Skye roll her eyes at Jane, but he looked past her at Rosalind. Tommy smiled at her, despite the intense shivering that overtook him. She looked adorable in her beige peacoat and black cap that looked a little like a beret, sitting jauntily atop her curls. Rosalind raised a hand to wave at him, and Tommy waved back.

"You're going to get a cold," Rosalind said as a way of greeting when the sisters reached Tommy and Nick.

"No I'm not," Tommy responded, pulling her into him for warmth anyway. She giggled and rested her head on his chest, her arms around his waist.

"So what happened to the car Geiger?" Skye asked, punching Nick in the shoulder gently.

"Not sure," Nick says truthfully.

"Maybe the battery was stolen. We know how to put it back," Jane said, peering into the car, mimicking Nick's stance.

"No we don't banana head," Skye said, kicking at Jane's slippers with her own. Unlike their older sister, Jane and Skye were still wearing pajamas underneath their heavy sweaters. "We know how to remove one though," Skye added as an afterthought.

"Maybe not mention that out loud," Tommy joked as the rest of the Penderwick family approached them, Batty and Ben in the lead, Ben holding his sister's hand.

Nick instantly turned to swing Ben high above his head. "How are you doing on this fine morning Bravo-Echo-November?"

"Golf-Oscar-Oscar-Delta," the boy giggled as Nick placed him on his shoulders.

"Ugh Nick, don't encourage him," Rosalind said from her place in her boyfriend's arms. "He's been using that alphabet for the past two days."

"Buck up Rosy, Ben's learning how to spell," Mr. Penderwick said, clapping Tommy on the shoulder.

"Car trouble?" Iantha asked pleasantly, the last one to arrive. Like her step-daughter, she was dressed in her day clothes.

"It would seem so Iantha," Nick said solemnly. He brightened instantly though. "How's the baby?"

Iantha smiled like she did every time Nick asked that question. "Very good at sapping my energy," she said with a smile as she put a hand on her stomach.

"My brother's gonna be as cool as you!" Ben informed Nick with a little clap.

"Ben dear, the baby might be a girl," Rosalind said, shaking Ben's little foot from his high perch.

"No," Ben said in his stubborn voice. Rosalind rolled her eyes, but Tommy knew she was not actually upset. She loved Ben too much for that.

"Well, how will you get to school Tommy?" Batty asked, speaking for the first time. Both Geiger brothers looked at each other, not considering Tommy's options for getting to school.

"Are your parents at work?" Mr. Penderwick asked. He was dressed for work too, and Tommy noticed the car keys dangling from his hand. Both boys nodded. Tommy turned to Rosalind.

"Can I go with you Rosy?"

Rosalind's face fell. "Oh Tommy I'm sorry, but I'm not going to school remember?"

Oh. Rosy had taken the day before winter vacation off to drive to Rhode Island to take a self-guided tour of Brown, a college on her list for years.

"I remember. It's okay."

"Tommy if you're ready Iantha and I can take you on our way to the university," Mr. Penderwick said.

"It'll have to be right now though," Iantha added. "We have to go to the kindergarten and the elementary school first to drop off Ben and Batty."

Tommy looked down to his pajamas and his bare feet, which were becoming numb. "I might not be ready in time," he said.

"Why you can walk with us!" Jane said brightly. “And tell us about Russian class and your football team!”

Skye rolled her eyes again. As a freshman, Jane was still too excited about being in high school, and her excitement oozed into everything she said and did. 

“But we need to leave soon too. I have a question for my physics teacher,” Skye added.

Tommy agreed, and the two families dispersed, leaving Tommy to quickly pull on his warmest clothes and brush his teeth. He decided to forego breakfast, since Skye was ringing their doorbell incessantly. 

“Hey Nick, where’s my hat?” Tommy called to his brother, who was getting ready to go back to bed after calling the towing company. 

“Mom sent it to the cleaners!” Nick called back over the doorbell. 

Right, Mrs. Geiger - fed up with the mud Tommy got on his winter clothes - decided to send all of his outerwear to the cleaner, forcing Tommy to wear one of Mr. Geiger’s old jackets. Tommy - after realizing that he could search for the hat and annoy Skye and himself or just leave - called goodbye to his brother and stepped out. It somehow had become even colder than it had been earlier. 

Tommy walked to school behind the sisters, letting their conversations drift towards him as he shivered violently. As they neared the school, Jane looked back at him. 

“Are you alright?”

“Just cold.”

“Shall I bathe your forehead?”

“Jane stop with the forehead bathing. Not all ailments need you and your cold washcloths,” Skye said giving Tommy an apologetic look. 

“Why do you always ask?” Tommy asked, genuinely curious.

“Because no one ever said yes,” Jane said irritably. 

Tommy shook his head at Jane as his stomach rumbled. He ignored it.

He spent the next three and a half hours ignoring his stomach until his lunch block. 

“I have never seen you walk so fast,” Brendan - one of his football teammates - said as they headed to the cafeteria. 

“I haven’t eaten all day,” Tommy responded.

“Why?”

“Long story,” Tommy responded as he fished around in his school bag for his wallet. Tommy searched for a few moments, growing more and more panicked until he realized that his wallet was always in his gym bag which was always swung over his left sh-

Wait.

“Brendan have you seen my gym bag?” Tommy asked frantically as they stepped forward in the lunch line.

“No, you didn’t have it with you in class.”

“Oh no,” Tommy said, realizing that he had put his gym bag in Nick’s car. 

“What?”

“It’s in Nick’s car.”

“Can’t you go to the main office and call him? I mean he remembers how scary Coach is. He’ll drive it over.”

“Yes he would, except his car was towed since a pipe burst or something.”

Brendan nodded wisely. “Always the pipe.”

Tommy shook his head in exasperation. “What do I do?”

Brendan put a placating hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “The team will pool our money, don’t worry, and we’ll deal with Coach when we cross that bridge.”

Between Brendan and their teammates, they managed enough money for an apple, a bag of pretzels, and a carton of milk, which Tommy only managed to eat before the bell rang for their next class.

“Alright students, pull out your group projects, we’re presenting today,” their history teacher was saying as Tommy and another of his teammates - Jackson - entered the room.

“Group projects?” Tommy asked Jackson as they sat in their seats in the middle of the room. Tommy usually sat in the back, but Rosalind was in the class and she liked to sit in the front, so they compromised. 

“Yeah. About the Silk Road? Remember? You worked with Rosalind.”

“And she’s not here,” Tommy whispered harshly, briefly wondering how his day could have gotten this bad. 

Jackson made a face of comprehension. “Sorry Geiger, you’re on your own.”

They turned to their teacher as he started speaking. “Going alphabetically, Tommy Geiger and Rosalind Penderwick are first to present.”

With a sigh, Tommy raised his hand. “Yes?”

“Sir, Rosy - that is, Rosalind isn’t here today.”

Their teacher sighed. “Then present on your own please.”

“But, Rosalind has the project.”

“Why didn’t she give it to you?”

“She must have... I mean, I must have forgotten.”

“You forgot?” The look Tommy was receiving was worse than any of Rosy’s withering looks. Tommy sank down in in his seat a little as Jackson flinched sympathetically next to him.

“Yes sir.”

“Well, I hope you understand this will be reflected in both of your grades.”

“Yes sir, I know sir,” Tommy said, mentally kicking himself. He didn’t care much for his grade but Rosy had worked so hard, and he hated for her to not get the marks she deserved. 

Tommy passed the next two classes in a blur tired hungry, cold, and more importantly, incredibly angry at himself for letting Rosy’s grade slip. 

He let himself wallow in self pity until he stepped out into the football field and realized - to his dismay - that it was snowing. And not the delicate flurries that had been falling on the walk to school. No, this was the heavy, wet snow, the kind that could block roads and make passing drills rather difficult. 

“Alright boys, into your workout clothes. Snow never stopped football players!”

“Have fun telling Coach,” Jackson said, referencing Tommy’s missing gym bag.

“We’ll wait for you in the locker room,” Brendan added more kindly. 

“Thanks,” Tommy mumbled as he headed towards his coach. “Coach?”

“Geiger! Into the locker room!”

“Yes sir, I will sir, but um...” Tommy trailed off, shaking his hands to get the cold numb feeling out of them. 

“Speak up!”

“I don’t have my gym bag.”

“Why?”

“It’s um, in Nick’s car? And it broke down?”

“Is that a question?”

“No? I mean... no.” Tommy kicked at the snow with his sneakers, not meeting his coach’s eye. 

“Well then, you can run laps.” 

Tommy looked up. “What?”

“You’re not getting a free pass Geiger.” Coach looked down at Tommy menacingly, as if he thought very little of people who tried to get out of football games. Not many things scared Tommy, but Coach was most definitely on the short list. 

“No sir. But what should I wear?”

“Jeans are fine.”

Tommy opened his mouth to ask another question, but his coach was already walking away. With a sigh, he went to the locker room to put his bag away. Thankfully, Brandon offered him one of his sweaters so Tommy would have only a slightly less chance of getting pneumonia. 

“Coach was brutal today,” Brandon announced three hours later as the boys headed to the parking lot. Tommy, trailing after them, shivering so violently his teeth were chattering. 

“At least you’re not Geiger,” a team member said, doubling back to clap Tommy on the shoulder. His knees nearly locked. “Sorry!”

“It’s f-f-fine,” Tommy responded as they neared the line of parked cars. 

“Want a ride home?” Brandon asked.

“He doesn’t need one,” Jackson said. 

“What?”

Jackson pointed to an old blue car at the edge of the parking lot, where a figure in a beige peacoat and a black cap was sitting on the hood of the car. Upon seeing the group of boys, the figure slid off the car. 

“But Rosy is in R-r-rhode Island,” Tommy said in disbelief. 

“Apparently not,” Jackson said with a grin.

“S-s-see you later,” Tommy said suddenly, breaking into a run despite his protesting legs. He barreled towards the car at full force, stopping only to grab Rosalind in a hug and swing her around, despite his screaming muscles. He could hear his teammates cheering somewhere behind them, but he was too busy hugging Rosalind as tight as he could. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked into her hair.

“The roads were closed so I cam back home. No point in being stranded in the middle of nowhere.”

“I missed you.”

“Gosh Tommy you’re so cold,” Rosalind said in response, pulling away.

“It’s been a long day Rosy,” Tommy said, brushing snow out of his girlfriend’s hair.

“Wait, tell me in a moment, let me grab something.” Rosalind reached into the car and pulled out a garment bag from the Cameron Dry Cleaners. She unzipped it to reveal Tommy’s jacket, hat, and gloves.

“How did you -”

“I remembered your mother brought them in last week and I needed to pick up some stuff for Batty and Jane. I thought you might be cold without them so I got yours too.”

With a laugh, Tommy reached forward and kissed Rosalind, long and hard. “Thank you. But did you pay?”

“Yes but don’t worry about it.”

Tommy nodded, secretly resolving to pay her back. He knew her family’s finances worried her. Unfortunately, Rosy knew him enough to know what he was thinking.”

“Stop worrying Tommy, really. Here, put these on you’re going to get sick.”

Rosalind helped him into his jacket. He pulled his gloves on, and with a giggle, Rosy pushed his hat onto his head. It didn’t fully sit on his head properly, but she looked so adorable standing on her toes to reach his head that he had to pull her in for another kiss, forgetting about the cold and the snow.

“Thanks beautiful,” he whispered to her.

“Any time. Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

Tommy took his usual spot in the passenger’s side, and Rosalind slid behind the wheel. “Oh, one more thing.” Rosalind pulled a thermos out from the back seat cupholder. “I made hot chocolate. I didn’t get to taste it but-”

Tommy cut her off by pulling her into him in a tight hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you Rosy.”

Rosalind pulled away, laughing. “Of course. I knew you’d be cold. Especially since I heard about your disastrous day.”

“You did? How?” Tommy asked, surprised, as Rosalind started the car and backed out of the lot. 

“Skye and Jane told me. Apparently you got yelled at during history?”

“It was project presentation day,” Tommy supplied. Rosalind glanced over at him. 

“Don’t worry about the grade. I’ll talk with him.”

“I feel so bad,” Tommy admitted.

“No, it was my job to remember to give it to you. Anyway, it’s winter vacation. Just enjoy the time off with your brother, okay?”

“And you,” Tommy said emphatically.

“And me,” Rosalind agreed. She cut a glance over to him as they turned into the chaos of Gardam street. “I love you Tommy.”

“I love you so much more. You have no idea.” 

Rosalind smiled. 

[soyeahitsmiddleearth]

Return Her pt. 3

The Company (and friends) x Reader

Bard the Bowman is quite accommodating (and cute too), but how will the others feel about you clicking so easily with him?

No amount of words or hyperbolic phrase can express the joy you feel when you see Bilbo coming in clutch with a ring of keys and a big smile on his face. 

First he releases Thorin, and then you.

When he sees your disheveled appearance and swollen face he falters and looks as if he wants to say something. Bilbo says nothing, but his eyes linger on you as he goes to free some of the others.

Thorin immediately approaches you to you while Bilbo frees everyone else, his hand reaching up to lightly press against your warm cheek. “I told you Master Baggins would have a plan." 

You nod your head once, a smile brightening your features, "You did, and you were right.”

Once everyone is freed from their confines Bilbo ushers you all down to some sort of cellar, kitchen thing.

The first thing you notice are the unconscious guards - passed out drunk - behind the large shelf the hobbit snuck you behind. In front of you all is a huge pyramid of barrels and you can’t help but to stare at it with confusion.

The others speak in hushed whispers when Bilbo tells everyone to get into the barrels, and though a bunch of them protest Thorin shuts it down and tells them to just trust him.

Everyone files into a barrel each, and while you have to bend your legs awkwardly in order to fit into your own, you end up fitting rather well.

Bilbo stands a few paces in front of everyone and you find yourself wondering what he’s going to do next.

Suddenly there is shouting that comes from somewhere else and the guards start to stir, and right away Bilbo rushes over to a lever just out of the way and pulls it.

The next thing you know, your stomach drops and the barrels drop into a large body of running water.

Your head goes under and you breathe in the water unintentionally, panicking internally before your head resurfaces.

When you break the surface of the water you gasp loudly, pressing your hand to your chest as you hack and cough up the water you accidentally choked down.

You don’t have much time to recover before your barrel begins to drift away, like everyone else’s.

There’s a splash from behind you, and when you look back you see that Bilbo has jumped in.

He flails and grabs at air, trying to find something - anything - to hold onto.

You lean over the side of your transportation and grab for him, getting a hold of his hands and hauling him closer so to try and pull him up. “C-Climb in!” You cry.

Your efforts to hoist him up don’t do you any good, though, because he can’t get enough momentum to pull himself in nor do you have the upper body strength to lift him.

When you realize that you cannot keep ahold of him anymore you pass Bilbo along to a dwarf much stronger than you so he won’t drown, and the relief is instant. 

A lot happens between escaping and getting in the water, and when the Orcs try to kill all of you because they decided now was a great time to show up, you found hopelessness seeping into you.

Even worse? The water gates are closed and now you’re all stuck, barrels bumping into each other as Thorin yells his internal distress.

Kili decides to play hero and jumps out of his barrel, running up to pull the lever while also fighting orcs on his way, when suddenly an arrow shoots through the air.

At first it seems like Kili doesn’t realize what happened, but then he collapses with a cry.

“Kili!” Fili yells in anguish.

You begin to try and get out of your barrel, yelling his name as well, when an orc gains on him with it’s weapon raised. Another arrow splits through the air and this time it’s from an ally, for it kills the orc and Kili is out of harms way.

Your gaze snaps to the source of the projectile and see the red-headed elf Tauriel. 

As soon as you see her you whoop and pump your fist in the air, “Yes!" 

Her gaze slides over you and an expression akin to relief passes over her countenance, but you don’t get long to think on it for abruptly the gates open and everyone starts to flow out of the underpass.

Kili flops over the side and lands into his barrel, a gross snap resounding as the end of the arrow breaks off and flies in some random direction.

The expression on his face is pained, but when you try to inquire on if he’s okay the roaring of the water drowns you out.

Things move very quickly after that.

You grip onto your barrel for dear life as you fall down a short waterfall, head going under again, and when you resurface you splutter and cough loudly, your eyes and throat beginning to burn.

You’re vaguely aware of Orcs being killed around you and the elves chasing after the foul beasts, but you’re too dazed from the fast pace of things to properly process anything.

When an arrow pierces just under your hand, though, you sober up.

Since there isn’t any way that you can help anyone against the Orcs attacking you all, you begin to try and steer your barrel as it swerves left and right so they don’t have to worry about your safety.

The elves kill the orcs along the way and, probably unintentionally, keep you all safe. The blond-elf Legolas, who separated you from everyone at the beginning, gets saved by Thorin while he’s distracted with some other orcs.

You would’ve liked to see how the rest of it plays out, but one of the beasts jumps onto your barrel and swings it’s long sword seemingly out of nowhere; and to avoid losing your head, you duck down further into your barrel.

You vaguely make out the sound of someone calling your name, but the rushing water is so loud you can’t decipher who it is nor how close they are.

Something whips through the air as it tries to stab into you, and  when you look up there’s an arrow sticking in its head.

It falls back and when you poke your head back up you see Tauriel looking at you with her bow still drawn. 

You cup your hands over your mouth and yell, "Thanks, hot-stuff!” And then go back your barrel steering.

—

Many different things transpire after all the excitement.

For example Kili had to be tended to, Thorin started to be pushy and complain about losing time, oh and a bargeman is now smuggling you all on his boat for gold after threatening to kill Ori.

Everyone is now huddled together at the front of said bargeman’s boat, and after Oin took a look at the bruises so unfairly inflicted upon your arms and face he leaves you to your own devices at the back of the ship with the bargeman you now know as Bard.

They are all discussing the payment they owe, but since you have nothing to offer up (other than yourself which, I mean hey this guy is pretty good looking) you stay out of it. 

Bard looks on ahead at the waters to avoid killing you all in a crash, though his gaze flickers down to you ever so often with curiosity sparkling in his lovely greys *I have no freaking clue what color his eyes are*.

He then speaks softly, “This companionship you have with the dwarves… is it mutual?”

It takes you a moment to figure out what he’s implying before you realize how this all must look. A battered human girl quietly tagging along with a group of male dwarves, disheveled, bruised, and being timidly quiet away from the others curled up on yourself (for warmth, but he doesn’t know that).

Your face heats up and you nod your head frantically, “A-Ah, no… Er, yes. It’s mutual. I’m fine. They’re my friends, I just… ah, ran into trouble with the elves is all…”

His eyes look out over the water again and he nods his head, “I don’t doubt their honor, I am only making sure… But I never knew elves to be violent like that.” He looks at you again and you can see that he doesn’t completely believe your words.

“I know… The elf king, Thranduil I think, wanted me to tell him something but I didn’t wanna. I guess he’s just not used to someone telling him to screw off.” You smile cheekily (ignoring the throbbing that takes place when you do), and Bard seems taken aback before a smile of his own works its way to his face.

“I suppose,” he pauses for a moment, then muses, “The way you speak is odd. I’ve never heard someone quite like you before.”

Ah shoot, you forgot that you’re supposed to be blending in better. 

“Oh… yes. Um, I come from a place where.. speech patterns are much different. You see-” You’re cut off by one of the dwarves calling your name.

You sigh dramatically and stand, offering the bargeman a kind smile, “Forgive me. I have to see what those brats want.” Without further chit chat you turn and approach them, hands on your hips while you look down at them expectantly.

“What is it?”

They all stare at you for a few moments before Thorin speaks, “Why do you talk to him so? You’re not giving anything away now, are you?”

You just stare at him quietly with annoyance clear on your face. Like, did he really just ask that? After getting hit around and stuff for them you’d think he’d trust you a bit more.

“Of course not! After taking all of this”, you gesture to your face and arms, “to stay silent from that elf guy, for you, do you really think I’d go blabbing off to some man we all just met?” That sure silences them. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t talk to him so much. We don’t know him.” Dwalin grunts out earning an eye roll from you.

“I’ll talk to whoever I want thank you very much. I don’t need permission from any of you, I’m a big girl and a big girl can have friends.”

“Male friends?” This time it’s Fili, and you sigh loudly.

“Oh, you too? You’re all men! And you’re the only friends I have. How must that look?” Everyone goes quiet again, and this time you smile triumphantly. “That’s what I thought. Now… Bard, our host, is awfully lonely over there and I’m going to speak to him again- and you won’t say a word about it.” And you leave before anyone can say anything else. 

Dwalin grumbles something under his breath, and Thorin simply rolls his eyes while Fili mumbles his discontent to his agreeing brother. Even Bofur, Nori, and Dori are sneaking glances over at the two of you conversing every so often. 

It’s safe to say that they are rather jealous. 

[cheryyori]

SK8TERBOY - Skaterboy!Yeosang/Soft!Reader Social Media AU ft. side pairing: Seonghwa/OC

Genre: Pure fluff (possible smut has yet to be determined)

A.N. Whoop, new update, not a lot of Yeosang bc Y/N is a bit of a mess rn. Also italics is Japanese. Also a bonus chapter about Seonghwa and Sumire’s date from the last two chapters will be coming soon bc I’m soft for them.

Chapter summary: It was supposed to be a nice evening between roommates/friends until Y/N gets an unknown text from what might be Yeosang and starts freaking out on what to do. Aka Y/N is still up to her usual clownery.

Taglist: @philosopher-of-fandoms @mangobee @mingiibabieee @yourbunny-xxii @angelichris-b97 @yeosatinyngz @kimtae-bae​

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!)

Masterlist.  prev.  next.

Chapter 4. You’re Pretty Cute

Once Y/N returned home, she dropped her bag onto the floor and kicked her shoes off before flopping face down onto the couch. A muffled loud groan left her lips as she recalled her clownery.

“Oh god, she’s finally lost it,” a voice mutters, followed by the sound of a slap to the shoulder. Yusung, Y/N thinks as she recognized the deep voice of his.

“Yusung, don’t be rude!” another says in a harsh whisper. Y/N knew that it was Suzaku who was berating the younger.

“What? It’s not our fault she’s an idiot,” Yusung said. Suzaku smacked his shoulder again, only this time harder than the last one, “Ouch, will you stop that, you bastard!”

“You know that said idiot can hear you, right?” Another chipped in. Junho had been sitting on the other couch, adjacent to the one Y/N flopped onto while scrolling on his phone for anything remotely interesting.

“I have such great friends,” Y/N huffs as she looked up to see the three boys. She could see Yusung stand tall (the bastard being the tallest out of all of them and using his height to make many short jokes at both her and Sumire’s expenses) besides Suzaku who had a concerned look on his face.

“Again, not our fault that you’re an idiot sometimes,” Yusung said once again. Suzaku elbowed him but used one hand to cover the small smile on his lips.

“This is bullying! I will not stand for such slander!” Y/N cried as she sat up, a pout on her lips as she glared at the boys. Junho remained unfazed by the whole exchange, ignoring his group of friends as usual. Yusung, on the other hand, stuck his tongue out at Y/N.

“You two are being loud, shut up!” A female groaned. Emerging from the kitchen, Sumire had a tired looked on her face. Her hair a mess as she walked into the living room, apparently she had been sleeping before the commotion.

“Sumi!” Y/N whined, “They’re bullying me again!” She said as she pointed to the boys, standing up as she went to Sumire’s arms. Sumire only sighed and placed a small pat on Y/N’s back in a weak attempt to comfort her.

“Sumi, you can’t blame us for Y/N’s own clownery!” Y/N heard the soft snort that escaped from Sumire’s lips and pulled away, staring at her in betrayal.

“Sorry,” there a small smile on her lips, “but it was kinda funny to read the whole thing,” Sumire explains. Y/N groaned as rest her head on her shoulder, wanting nothing more than to forget this moment.

“Don’t remind me,” Y/N whined, “I was so excited to see him again and thinking about what nonsense you three idiots were spamming in the chat that I totally spaced out and forgot to ask for his number!”

“Disappointed, but not surprised,” Junho mutters to himself but Y/N’s ears perked up at his words.

“Nam Junho! You are rude!” Y/N fumed. Junho merely shrugged and continued scrolling through his phone. Sumire sighed and decided that since she was up now, she might as well get started on dinner.

“I’m going to make dinner now, feel free to join me if you’re bored─no, not you Yusung!” She gave Yusung a pointed look as he started heading towards the kitchen, “Don’t think you’re still off the hook from the rice cooker incident last night.”

“Oh my god, it was an accident, how was supposed to know you plug the damn thing in?”

“How do you burn rice without having it plugged in?” She replied, raising a brow at him. Yusung opened his mouth before promptly closing it, not wanting to be judged more than he already was by his best/childhood friend.

“Fine. I’ll go play with Iroha, at least she’ll appreciate me!” He grumbled as he stalked over to the small ragamuffin kitten that was settled in the corner. “Iroha-chan! Come play with uncle Sungie!” He cooed as he picked up the small kitten and the toy that had caught her attention.

"I think I’m gonna be in my room for a bit,” Y/N said, “Today was quite eventful,” she mutters as she slowly dragged her feet to her room. Sumire almost felt bad for her friend. Almost, if she didn’t recall the texts she had with Seonghwa earlier. It will only be a matter of time when Yeosang will text Y/N.

“Alright, I’ll call you when dinner’s ready,” Y/N nodded and went inside her room, flopping onto her bed. Y/N closed her eyes, her mind constantly replaying her time with Yeosang and felt her cheeks heat up. Her heart suddenly picked up as she thought about him in general and let her thoughts wonder if he was dating anyone. Would he want to date her-

“AH! Y/N stop thinking like that!” She shrieked as she smacked her warm cheeks lightly again. “You don’t even know him! And you didn’t get his number! Maybe this is a sign that you’re going to be forever alone,” she scolded herself before letting out a dejected sigh.

It was then that her phone went off, Y/N figured that it might have been either one of the boys or Sumire and glanced over at the message before she let out a scream when she saw who texted her.

Meanwhile, in the living room/kitchen, everyone was doing their own thing to pass the time before dinner was ready when they heard Y/N’s voice coming from her room.

“What the fuck is going on?” Junho was the first to ask as he looked up from his phone. 

“So it’s begun,” Sumire muttered to herself as she ignored Y/N’s scream and continued to cook. Suddenly Y/N rushed out of her room and into the kitchen, her phone in hand as she held it out towards Sumire.

“H-he─” Y/N couldn’t even make the first words out as she slowly started talking nonsense. This ruckus caused all the boys to walk into the kitchen (surprisingly Yusung wasn’t kicked out this time) to figure out what the hell was going on with their roommate.

“What the hell is going on with you?” Yusung asked, carrying Iroha in his arms. The ragamuffin kitten was oblivious to what was happening around her as she started to paw at his fingers.

“I-I, he─!” Y/N continued to babble before Sumire shuts off the stove and went over to take her phone.

“Oh,” she says, “He texted her.”

“Who did?” Suzaku asked, going over to Sumire’s side as he peered over her right shoulder while Junho peered over her left side.

“Her skaterboy friend,” Sumire replied.

“I thought you said you two didn’t exchange numbers,” Junho asked with a raised brow.

“W-we didn’t,” Y/N said.

“Then how the hell did he get you number?” Junho continued, skeptical of the idea that this was really her skaterboy crush who was texting her.

“U-uh, I don’t know,” Y/N mutters.

“Hey, here’s a crazy idea,” Sumire started, “Why don’t you, you know, ask him,” she suggested, handing her phone back.

“B-but that’s scary,” Y/N mutters, thinking what if it some stranger or worse. It actually was Yeosang, how the heck was she going to text him?

“Can’t you do it for me, Sumi?” Y/N asked, batting her eyes at her wife.

“No,” Sumire replies, “besides, it’s not that hard it’s just a text, you can text him. Also take a deep breath before you do, you look like you’re going to pass out,” she told Y/N, who was looking rather pale at the moment.

“I think Y/N rather die than do that,” Yusung snorted.

“Shut up, Yusung, don’t make me hit you,” Sumire glares at her childhood friend, eyes narrowing at him.

“As if you can reach me,” The boy mutters. At this, Sumire kicked the back of his knees, causing him to fall onto them.

“Ah, thank you for continuing to brighten my day, Sumire,” Junho smiled brightly at the sight.

“Dammit, Junho, you bastard!” Yusung grumbles as he sets Iroha safely on the ground and rubs the back of his knees.

“Anyways,” Sumire continued, glancing back at Y/N, “Just text him, trust me, it’s not that hard.”

“O-okay,” Y/N said as she took a deep breath. Just a text, she told herself before going replying to the unknown number might or might not be Yeosang.

“Oh my fucking god, Y/N,” Yusung muttered over her shoulder, apparently reading the text she just sent to Yeosang.

“S-shut up, Yusuck!” Y/N exclaimed with a red face before reading Yeosang’s reply, turning away from them all.

“So? Did he say how he got your number?” Suzaku asked curiously.

“He said that his roommate Seonghwa gave it to him,” Y/N replied, causing the boys to have a surprised look.

“Seonghwa? Like Sumi’s Seonghwa, Seonghwa?” Yusung asked. At this Sumire went back to cooking dinner, missing the suspicious look Junho cast her way before turning back to the conversation at hand.

“Yeah, I guess I must have given Seonghwa my number and he passed it along to Yeosang when heard about our situation,” Y/N concluded, earning a quiet snort from Sumire.

“Huh, that’s kinda anti-climatic, I thought skaterboy started typing in random numbers until he got your number right,” Yusung pouted before cooing at a mewing Iroha. Junho gave Sumire another glance and hummed to himself.

“Well, at least you have a way to get in contact with him,” Suzaku said, “And the fact that he texted you first means he likes you!”

“Oh my god, Suzaku, I barely know him!” Y/N sighed.

“But you think he’s cute, right?” He pressed. Y/N bit her lower lip because yes, she did think he was cute. And she hates how these little heathens knew that she thought he was cute.

“I mean yeah but─”

“Then why not ask him out?” Yusung chimed in, leaning forwards slightly, “I mean let’s be honest, we’re all sick of you complaining to us about wanting to go on cute dates whenever Sumi leaves the apartment to meet Seonghwa.”

“I-I─” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted pink as she gawked at Yusung, “I-I do not complain! I just think that going out with someone would be nice,” she pouted.

“Ah, you’re complaining again!”

“Shut up, Yusuck!” Y/N snapped before turning her attention back to her phone.

“CHO YUSUNG!” Y/N shrieked as Yusung stole her phone from her hands and replied to Yeosang. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the text he sent before she started hitting his chest with a red face.

“Ouch, ouch! Dammit, woman! You should be thanking me, I just secured you your future boyfriend!” Yusung whined as he grabbed her arms to stop her from hitting him anymore. Y/N will not be thanking him if anything she felt mortified.

“More like secured your own death,” Sumire comments.

“I AM GOING TO KICK YOU IN THE SHIN, CHO YUSUNG!”

“As much I would love to see that,” Junho drawled out, “I think your skaterboy called you cute as well,” he said as he swiped her phone out of Yusung’s hand and read the newest text.

“WHAT?!” Y/N took her phone back and stared at the screen, feeling oddly giddy as she read the text.

“Oh god, you’re already sending him cute love memes? You’re so whipped for him,” Yusung teased, beside him was a snickering Suzaku.

“Shut up, Yusuck! It was an accident! And Suzaku! How could you betray me like this!”

“Sorry, sorry, it’s kinda cute though,” Suzaku cooed, “This is the best and cutest entertainment since Seonghwa paced around the living room and asked for our permission to try to ask Sumi-chan on a date last week.”

“Anyways, dinner’s ready,” Sumire says, clearing her throat when her name was mentioned and placed five plates on the table they were all gathered around. The three immediately quiet down as everyone took their seats to enjoy dinner, a few teasing remarks from both Suzaku and Yusung as they poked fun at Y/N and her crush on Yeosang ( “It’s not a crush, you two!” “Aw, look at how red her cheeks are!” “Aw, how cute!” )

After dinner, they all went into their room to retire for the night. 

[authorized-trash]

To Tie a Knot: Chapter 7: Fate Really Needs to Make Up Her Damn Mind

Ao3

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Content Warnings:

Self deprecation, mild language, elusion to character death, misunderstandings, anxiety, pain

Chapter Summary:

Roman nearly dismisses a life changing phone call from his brother, way to go Cain Instinct.

Word Count:

2,200+

Note:

Lol I’m not sorry.

(This chapter has been up for weeks on Ao3, it came out same day as chapter six, I guess I forgot to put it here, whoops)

-

-

Damian woke up slowly, blinking groggily as awareness came back to him.

He moved to sit up, but stopped as he realized he couldn’t move his right leg or arm. He couldn’t move much of anything, actually.

His eyes widened as he did a quick roll call of his limbs and where they were at. His right arm was under Logan’s chest, his legs tangled with the others. His head was tucked under Logan’s chin, nose to his collarbone.

Logan had a pretty firm hold around Damian. He must have been pretty clingy during sleep then.

Damian removed himself from the embrace as gently as possible as to not wake Logan, tip toeing to the bathroom. He took care of his business and hopped in the shower. By the time he was out Logan was waking up, stretching with a yawn.

He looked over at Damian with an odd expression, as if forgetting who he was. His eyes trailed down to his hand at the “snake yellow” string that connected the two. He visibly brightened.

“Good morning Damian, I trust that you slept well.”

Damian thought about it. He had slept well, great, in fact. He slept better than he had slept in a very long time.

“Yes, I did sleep well,” Damian said, brushing a hand through his hair, which was still damp from his shower.

“Well, according to the alarm clock we have an hour to leave. I’ll go ahead and get ready for the day. I’ll be back shortly,” Logan said as he entered the bathroom, the lock clicking behind him.

Damian sat in silence. The exhaustion was still there. The horrible guilt, as /fucking/ always was still there. And as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he was excited to meet them. Like, really excited. 

He went to get ready to leave, hoping he could ignore the issues at hand. He slid on his shoes and gloves, reaching for his hat. He half wished he had some other clothes, but it wasn’t like they were dirty, he had only worn them to the coffeeshop and to the hotel. 

He ignored the way his hands trembled and his breath quickened. He heard the shower head turn on, signalling Logan was in the shower. Damian moved to sit on the edge of the bed, staring at his gloved hands without thinking about much.

The fatestrings tied to his fingers came up and over the top of the glove. It didn’t feel like anything was there, it was nearly completely unnoticeable. The strings were weird like that, you wouldn’t feel them and they wouldn’t bother you as long as you didn’t want them to.

He ran his fingers along them, his touch featherlight. He watched as the little piece of torn string on his left hand dangled over them and gulped audibly.

He gave the four strings a soft tug, more out of curiosity than anything.

He got a couple tugs in response from Red and Purple, and a shake from Blue. It had occurred to him that he had yet to ask Logan which string belonged to who. Guess he’d find out shortly.

The showerhead turned off, and Damian looked up at the door.

“Need something Damian? You tugged,” Logan called through the door. His voice was muffled by what was probably a towel.

“Huh? Oh, no, sorry,” Damian said, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Alright, well, the others and I have a system, you see. One tug is you need something, two is a reassurance, and three is an emergency. Patton also occasionally shakes his but that’s just him,” Logan said with a fond chuckle. 

“Sorry,” Damian said and winced. Of course, look at him, already fucking up their rules.

“What? No it’s fine, you didn’t know,” The door to the bathroom swung open and Logan was standing there, hair dripping. He was fully clothed, which was a mild surprise. He hadn’t been in there too long, when the door started to open Damian half expected for him to come out in his underwear or something.

He nodded, fixing his hat onto his head.

“Well, I’m ready to leave,” Damian said, standing. Logan gave him a thumbs up as he began to throw his few belongings into his backpack. He occasionally reached up to the toothbrush in his mouth to multitask, but didn’t do it often. It just kinda sat there.

After a few tense moments of Damian staring at Logan while he got ready, Logan straightened up and dusted his shirt off.

“Alright, I’m ready as well.”

The two left the hotel room without another word, and Logan signed out at the front desk. Damian slid into the passenger seat as Logan threw his backpack in the backseat. He turned the keys, and they were off.

“How long until we get there?” Damian asked.

Logan raised an eyebrow, “Thirty minutes. Are you excited? You keep fidgeting in your seat.”

“Excited is one word for it, sure,” Damian said, tugging his hat a little more over his eyes.

“You’ll like them. Roman and Patton can be a bit much at times, but Virgil is… ah, what’s the word? Cold?”

“Chill-?”

“Yes! That’s it,” Logan snapped his fingers, “Virgil is ‘chill’.”

“I’m sure I’ll lo- like them, Logan,” Damian caught himself before he made a mistake, “You are amazing, and a man like you probably has wonderful standards.”

“Technically I don’t need standards, as they are my soulmates, but I get what you mean. If standards were necessary, then yes, they meet them very well,” Logan said, heading up a ramp onto the interstate. 

Damian gave a thoughtful nod and clasped his hands, twiddling his fingers around. The anxiety and anticipation was building in his chest, and he could’ve sworn Logan could hear how loud his heart was beating.

They chatted idly, the time flying much faster than Damian would have wanted.

They pulled into a neighborhood with houses running up and down both sides of the road, and now was really when Damian felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

His stomach seemed to leap to his throat as Logan turned into a driveway.

“You ready?”

Damian laughed aloud, “Absolutely not.”

Logan gave him a small smile, “We can stay in the car a little while if we must.”

Damian shook his head and reached for the handle, swinging the door open. He let out a shuddering breath.

“Better to just get it over with.”

-

The other three soulmates had been collectively losing their minds since Virgil’s phone call with his sibling the day before.

“We are literally going to meet them tomorrow, I’m so excited!” Patton had quite literally bounced around the entire house, and if he had the ability to, he would probably be doing somersaults.

Roman spun around with him at times, laughing loudly. Virgil would snicker and film them, lovingly of course, hiding his phone in the overly large sleeve of his hoodie.

They thought they had been prepared, but none of them were ready for the front door opening at a little past one in the evening the next day.

“I have returned,” Logan called into the house. Patton nearly tripped with how fast he turned the corner from the kitchen, his shoulder slamming into the wall. Roman was next, his singing abruptly cut off as he turned to see Logan, smiling brightly.

Virgil crept from their room, peering around the corner of the hallway.

“Did you bring them?!” Patton practically shouted, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

At that exact moment, a head poked over Logan’s shoulder, looking in through the door. Logan moved out of the way, and the new arrival stepped in through the door. He had his head held high, and a smug-looking smirk on his face.

Virgil, for one, noticed the tense set of his shoulders and the way his hands were shoved into his pockets forcefully. 

Everyone, however, noticed how said pockets had four strings that spread to all four of them.

“This is Damian, he is our fifth soulmate.”

There was silence for exactly four seconds.

Then, chaos.

“Hello!” Patton nearly shrieked, his hands fluttering so fast you could nearly see through them. He looked like he wanted to run forward and wrap his hands around the other man, but barely managed to restrain himself.

Roman gave a fake swoon, “Gods am I smitten already, what is it with Lady Fate giving me such perfect boyfriends?”

Damian smiled at the both of them, “Hello, I’m guessing you’re Patton? Logan did say you were adorable,” he winked, ignoring Logan’s indignant squawk behind him, he turned to Roman, “and you are Roman, then? I must say, I’m charmed.”

For good measure, he reached forward and grabbed Roman’s hand, kissing his knuckles just above the yellow string.

“Goddamnit, two overly-dramatic asses,” Virgil grumbled from the hallway entrance. He was now leaning against the wall, a smirk on his face giving away his amusement.

Damian finally noticed him, eyes snapping up to meet his. Fuck, he really did have a thing for emos. 

“That makes you Virgil. As stunning in person as Logan had described,” Damian purred, stalking forward. Virgil curled into his hoodie, hiding how red his face was quickly getting.

The new arrival stopped a few feet from Virgil. Virgil’s eyes widened as he realized he was a good six inches taller than Damian.

The emo turned to knock his head against the wall, “Oh God, why did you have to be short?”

Damian’s face immediately turned defensive.

“You got an issue with that?” He hissed, crossing his arms. Behind him, Roman began to laugh himself to tears.

“Our tall emo has a thing for shorter men. Especially cute shorties,” he said between laughs.

“Shut it,” Virgil snapped. It was Damian’s turn to flush red.

“Well! Damian! I’m so happy to meet you! To be honest with you, I didn’t think we were going to find you so fast, I’m glad though!” Patton said, clapping his hands together. Logan put a hand on his shoulder and nodded in agreement.

“I ran into Damian’s friend in a coffee shop, he saw my four strings and put two-and-two together pretty fast.”

Damian turned to look back at Virgil when the emo snickered.

“I knew you all met at a coffee shop, Elliot was the barista. They called me to check in and recognised you half way through the call,” he explained, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “‘Said you were looking ‘thoroughly smitten’ with an unknown stranger. Knowing you, Mr. No Feelings, I knew you would only look that way with a soulmate.” 

“Yeah! And Roman fell off the couch with how excited he was when he realized,” Patton said, poking Roman in the ribs.

Laughing softly, Damian took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair.

“Glad I could have such an effect,” he said. He closed his eyes as he did so, which was convenient for the other three, as they all had locked eyes with a frayed little string attached to his left hand.

“Hey, Damian, do you mind if I-” Logan was cut off by a loud ringtone. Roman groaned as he reached for his phone, checking the caller ID.

“Huh, its Remus,” He said, lifting an eyebrow in confusion. Damian shivered at the name, a chill going down his spine. 

Weird, it must be colder in here than he thought.

Roman clicked a few buttons.

“Surely it’s fine, I’ll call him back shortly,” Roman waved it off, putting his phone back into his pocket.

It rang seconds later.

Roman groaned, getting it back out, “What does he want?”

“Maybe you should answer it,” Virgil said. He began to fidget nervously with his hoodie sleeves, “It might be important-”

Roman laughed, “It’s Remus, when is it ever important?”

Damian looked back and forth between the four of them as Roman hung up yet again.

This time the call back was instant.

Roman groaned, answering it this time.

“Remus this better be important, I’ll catch up with you la- what?” Roman went pale startlingly quick, “... Wait no, back track, what do you mean ‘cut’? That’s not even possible- When did this happen… That long? Why didn’t you tell me then!”

The other’s all looked around at each other, looks of fear on all of their faces.

Roman went quiet for a short while, before running towards the closet by the front door. He threw it open and slid into his jacket and sneakers.

He looked over at his four soulmates, worry all over his face.

“Alright, Remus, I’ll be there. Give me thirty minutes… Alright, bye.”

He hung up, already turning towards the door. 

“Roman?” Patton asked in a small voice, “Is everything alright?”

Roman shook his head, and his voice was thick with tears, “He finally did it. That bastard. He finally pissed off the wrong damn people.”

And with that, the door closed behind him.

They all exchanged glances, and Damian had never felt so small.

Awesome first meeting, really.

-

The man who was on the other side of the phone sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes with a trembling hand.

He looked up at the ceiling and pursed his lips, a small smile on his face, at least his brother was coming.

The dull, throbbing ache in his left hand had yet to stop, even a month later.

He looked down at the four inch string that hung limply from his hand, the end frayed. The once brilliant yellow an ugly faded beige.

He sniffed, mourning the person he’d never know.

-

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