#from here on they’ll definitely be much shorter

[mythos321]

Part 1 of my Wof x Persona au

“The world which has been shrouded in darkness, must now be reborn, righteousness which had once reigned has now been shrouded by the uncaring masses, leaving ruins which cannot be rebuilt

Many have come to stand forth against this fate, of many shapes and sizes and even species. These beings are known as tricksters, and they have come to be needed once more

Your time to rise forth against this distortion is nigh”

Chapter One:Start of The New World

That night still echoed in Clays brain, the night everything was taken from him, where he was forced to leave everything behind and be put in some strange program. He wanted to get angry, to feel bitter, and yet…all he felt was like he was a piece of trash, a bigwings who failed his sibs, no matter how much they tried to reassure him on his final goodbyes, he just couldn’t accept it, nor himself for what had happened, and hoped to the moons that they wouldn’t be burdened by his absence.

All he currently had on him was a(relative to his size) small bag, and a pair of glasses to try and blend himself into the crowd more, futile as he knew that may be.

As he walked and flew across the trail to his momentary place of residence, he heard talks of multiple different topics, one which particularly stood out to him being the “Detective Princess” Skywing he had heard about, who he also learned to be attending his new school, all Clay thought was he hoped to try and avoid interacting with them if they’re as prying as he assumed Detectives to be.

as Clay looked through his bag, he found a strange book inside it, with a cover that presented a red and black eye upon it, and almost seemed to be calling to him…Clay then threw it out, figuring it was some junk that got mixed with his things

finally, he had found the small town he would take residence in, located in the center of a small point which connected part of The Mud, Sky, and Rainforest kingdom, which featured a multitude of different Dragon tribes, similar to another city Clay had heard about on the other side of the continent, “probability” or something?

Clay hated to admit it, but he was slightly apprehensive of the other tribes, He luckily managed to find an aging Mudwing shopkeeper who pointed him in the direction of The Dragon he was looking for, The Skywing Kestrel

Clay saw the entrance to a small cavern and entered to find The Skywing preparing to close up shop for tonight, before hearing him enter

“We’re closed, get your food somewhere els- ah, you’re Clay, right?”

“Correct, Mrs. Kestrel”

“It’s Miss, actually, but just call me Kestrel, I’ll admit, I forgot you’re coming today” Kestrel stated, as she stretched her back

“Busy day I presume?”

“Nope, about as slow as a day like this can get, probably different for you though with your circumstances, eh ya little monster?”

“Correct, m- Kestrel, thank you so much for helping me” Clay politely said, but in all honesty, he couldn’t help but still feel uncomfortable towards her, even if she was doing something so nice for him, she seemed to have a small but noticeable burn upon her cheek, and her arms were covered in even larger burns, with a small stab wound also being noticeable upon the outer side of her right paw as opposed to the burns on the inner parts. Not to mention, though Clay knew she couldn’t help it, her face screamed “I’d beat a kid for fun! yippee!”

however, in contrast, Clay could tell she had a calm, if slightly cold tone to her voice, and he truly didn’t feel any malice from her outside of the appearance, so he decided to go with his gut and still trust her…though his gut had failed him before, even still, he wouldn’t let that guide him.

“Come on now, no need to be so formal, I ain’t some priestess, all I’m doing is doing your aunt a favor.” Kestrel stated, and Clay almost smiled thinking about his aunt Asha, the closest to a mother he ever had…He could tell he was gonna miss her almost as much as he missed his sibs

“Come along this way now, I have a place for you to stay” Kestrel then walked down the cavern, where Clay was greeted with a dusty old room that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years and almost like it was just used for Storage beforehand

“I prepared your resting area, but you’re gonna have to handle the rest, alright?” Kestrel stated as she laid out a small area that could barely fit a dragon Clays size, with no resting support to be seen

“Heard what ya did to the lady, I’d have never taken ya to be the type to maul someone with how you act!” Kestrel laughed, but Clay looked horrified at her thinking he’d do such a thing, and she quickly caught it, “Huh, guess that parts just a rumor then? well, not like it matters either way, I won’t pry too much on it though, just don’t pull me into it either.” Kestrel stated towards him, now looking almost disappointed, and Clay wondered if she somehow knew the person involved and held some grudge towards them.

“All I know is you got in trouble for attacking a diplomat, and your queen banished you from your home for it while putting you in that new program thingamajig. That’s all I know, and that’s all I need to know, and that’s all the people that need to know here, alright? don’t want any customers knowing a criminal lives here, got it?” Clay wanted to comment on how she worded his Queen saving his scales but knew this had already dragged on too much for either of their likings

“Got it.”

“Good, just endure this place for the next 12 months, and you’ll be off probation and your banishment ends, but that also means you can’t go getting yourself into trouble. I’ll make sure to help you get a route to your school tomorrow, you can get yourself introduced to your teachers. Don’t expect them to be friendly though, people don’t regard your type with much grace y’know”

“…I expected that” Clay somberly said, keeping a somber yet sharp face as he looked her in the eye, expecting her to finally reveal a snarl to her, but instead got a small sigh, and a pat on his back before preparing to leave for the night

“Don’t go messing with the tavern while I’m gone okay? don’t do anything stupid while you’re here alone, okay? or I might just toss ya to the mountains.” Kestrel said, and Clay couldn’t tell if she was trying to tell a joke or not.

Clay made sure to clean up his space, dusting the area, taking out trash, and even watering a small plant, before finally heading to rest. He couldn’t help but note how cold the floor felt to himself, how stiff it was…how lonely it made him

before he could rest, however, Clay saw a slight glow in his bag and looked inside it and found the strange book from before

“Huh, I could’ve sworn I threw this out” Clay thought out loud, as he opened the book to look inside, before suddenly falling to sleep on his resting space with little time to react

**

Clay quickly awoke, but he found himself not in the cave like before, and instead in a cell-like structure, with a strange fog seeming to surround his cell and that which stood outside of it, however, throughout the fog and darkness he saw a single light at its center, and at the far end of that line laid a strange looking Nightwing, whose eyes seemed darker than the shadows which surrounded him, with scales that were ebony black for all but his right arm, which appeared to Clay to be made of…stone? They didn’t quite look right to him that was for sure

What stood out most to Clay however, was the dragons piercing gaze, almost as though the moons themselves gazed upon him, making Clay feel an immense presence immediately.

“Welcome, young Mudwing, to my Velvet Room. My name is The Stonemover, and I serve as this places all-powerful master.” The Dragons voice rumbled, and Clay felt his entire back shiver as he heard it echo across his prison.

“My my, to think your room would manifest in such a way. Your heart truly has been shackled as a prisoner of fate, Mudwing.”

“What’s going on! where am I-“ Clay tried to move toward the front of his cage, but a baton suddenly clashed against it, and he saw two small scavenger-like creatures below, and was shocked when one of them spoke to him

“Show some respect, inmate! back off!” Shouted one of the scavengers, who appeared to have a paralleling eyepatch with the other

“You are in the presence of our master.” stated the other, calmer scavenger

“All shall be explained to you in due time, Mudwing, but for now, you must return to your real world, but do know, our paths shall cross oncemore very soon” As The Stonemovers voice rumbled, Clay began to faint once more, before awakening once again in the true world, and prepared to go with Kestrel to his new academy.

when Clay first entered the office of The Schools Dean, he saw none other than The Queen of the Seawings, Coral, accompanied on her left by who Clay guessed to be The Disgraced Eldest daughter, Orca.

On her right, there was a seawing older than Orca but definitely younger than Coral, with a mixture of dark and green scales, with creepy blobby eyes that reminded Clay of some toads back where he used to live

“I hope you are aware that you are not here because you are wanted! Only because Moorhen insisted on you being a part of my program. Understand if I so wish, I could send you right back to where you belong.” Coral viciously said, and Clay felt a special kind of venom in her words, one he hadn’t felt even from those strange wardens he saw in his dream, at least, he assumes it was a dream.

“Now now My Queen, it is important to be easy upon him, after all, he grew up in such a dirty place he probably doesn’t know much of anything! He could make great use in swimming however” The Man to her right said in a strange, oily voice, which made Clay feel gross just hearing, the backhanded remark didn’t help either

“Awww Whirlpool! always thinking of the best for everyone! I’m lucky to have someone like you under me!” Coral complimented, as Orca rolled her eyes, and walked toward Clay

“I’ll be your homeroom teacher from now on,” Orca stated, which surprised Clay, no matter how important the school he was surprised a princess would work such, even if she was disgraced like Orca. “Take your Id, and report to your Faculty office in the morning, I’ll take you to your class then”

“Thank you, your highness” Clay simply said as he took his card

“Don’t go around letting him run free you hear me? I don’t want a beast like him free in the streets.” Coral sharply said to Kestrel, shooting her a glare as well

“Alright, alright. No need to get any tails twisted.” Kestrel stated as she and Clay walked out to go back to Cavern Tavern

as they flew down the trail, Kestrel saw the aftermath below of a Skywing that seemed to crash straight down, destroying another dragons home in the process, with it now being covered up to be put out of sight for the sake of the dragons below

“Sheesh, again? I can’t believe so many of those are happening recently” Kestrel muttered, as she looked once again at Clay, who seemed to only be looking forward, before asking her a question

“…what is it, that made you take me in?”

“Huh, you wanna know why? well, your aunt asked, and I didn’t have a good enough reason to say no, so I went along with it…plus, I’m getting paid, if that helps. Look, just, keep your head up and blend in, can’t beat it, join it, I guess, don’t repeat mistakes, you get that right?”

“correct,” Clay answered, before flying down towards the Tavern, with Kestrel just behind him

“I’ll make us some curry alright? I hear Mudwings particularly need a lot of food due to their builds, so you’re fine with that right?”

“I’m fine, thank you” Clay didn’t feel hungry, he hadn’t for the past few weeks, he almost felt like he didn’t deserve to eat anyway after screwing up so badly, and simply hoped his Sibs were doing fine without him…

**

Clay prepared to leave for the school early, but before he could, a plate of beef curry was suddenly put on the taverns counter, seeming to be freshly made

“Don’t think I’m letting you starve yourself, alright? I want you to eat this and go to your school on a full stomach, got it?” Kestrel ordered

“Curry for breakfast?”

“Don’t question the inner machinations of my mind boy” Kestrel glared, and Clay got to eating his meal, shocking himself at how he was able to scarf it down

“Alright, NOW you’re allowed to go” Kestrel answered just as Clay finished his meal

“Thank you so much for the meal…it was delicious” Clay thanked Kestrel

“Heh, you really are a breath of air with your good manners. Now then, hurry up to school, use the route we used yesterday, and don’t get distracted, okay?…oh, and flip the sign over the cave to “open” for me if ya can.” Clay nodded towards her, and walked out, making sure to flip the sign as he left. “…OH, AND DONT FORGET AN UMBRELLA-…hm, already out of earshot, well, I hear Mudwings like the Rain anyway…I think?”

Luckily for Kestrel, she was indeed correct on her assumptions, with Clay happily flying through the rain on his way to school, to the point where he didn’t initially notice how much time he had left at first due to it being far less crowded because of dragons avoiding the rain, stopping just a bit away from the school to try and take in the scenery.

as he looked inside his bag, he once again noticed the book inside, despite having for sure put it away before last night, and he was now starting to be legitimately concerned about its constant appearances.

“Hey Mudwing, do you need some help getting to school? You haven’t forgotten already have you?” Clay suddenly heard the same oily voice from the day before and saw Whirlpool walking past him, having a strange toothy smile upon his face, not to mention the same condescending remarks as before

“I’m fine, thanks, just lounging with my freetime before I head over”

“Alright then!” Whirlpool then swam away, likely to go to his classes, and Clay prepared to start walking when he suddenly heard someone running behind him in the rain, before seeing a Seawing girl about his age appear in front of him, seeming to have started chasing Whirlpool when she first saw him

“Damn it! Screw that squid-brained sycophant!” The Vulgar Seawing shouted

“Sicko font?” Clay questioned, as the Seawing then looked at him, not seeming to have realized he was there, and the book inside Clays bag slowly began to open without either of their notice

“What do you want, Mudwing? You planning to rat me out to Whirlpool?” The Vulgar Seawing began to get in Clays face, to the point where he was able to note she had translucent green eyes, along with that she had a scale color similar to Queen Corals, but wore something similar to a coat on her, with what looked like smashed up jewelry on it…honestly Clay found it kinda stylish.

“Why would I do that?” Clay questioned, legitimately wondering why he’d do that

“Huh? Do you not know who he is? Are you For Real? He’s one of the teachers here and Queen Corals S ranked ass kisser! Bastard does whatever the hell he wants. Who does he think he is anyway-The king of a castle? I mean you could probably feel it too, right?”

“….which castle?”

“no- I meant- Wait, oh I get it, you’re from that Destiny Program bull…seems you’re a second year too eh? same as me, guess I should’ve pieced together you were part of that earlier though…whatever, let’s get to school, this rains crappy enough as it is.” as The Vulgar Seawing and Clay began to walk however, they both suddenly felt a sharp rush in their head.

“Ah great, just what I needed today…damn it” The Vulgar Seawing kept walking, as the world felt stranger and stranger until they finally made it toward front of…a castle?

“What the- did we make a wrong turn?”

“This should be it…the hells going on here? guess we’ll go in and ask about it.” The Vulgar Seawing stated, as she began to walk into the castle, with Clay just behind her, for a moment, Clay almost thought he saw the school shift back to normal before returning to its distorted form

“That’s weird…where’s the school?”

“Maybe we really did make a wrong turn”

“Nonono, this IS it, I’ve walked that way a thousand times it’s gotta be it…right? The sign was for the school right”

“Right”

“Yeah! you saw it too!” The Vulgar Seawing shouted again, as she suddenly heard something approaching behind her, a dragon in full armor, with strange strings seeming to come from above them

“Jeez, you freaked me out! what’s up with the costume? Mom make another crappy novel and make it everyone elses problem? I mean, the costumes impressive though, is the armor real? and what’s with the strings?…you gonna say anything???” The Vulgar Seawing kept pestering the knight, until suddenly, multiple others started showing up

“Is this some weird school hazing?!” Clay questioned

“I DONT KNOW DUDE!” The Seawing shouted, as they began to be enclosed by the knights more and more “Shit…this is real isn’t it?” The Seawing tried to look for a way for them to escape, but couldn’t find any “Alright, let’s just all calm down, none of us want any trouble right? we just gotta-“ The Seawing then grabbed one of the castles candlesticks and bashed it into a knight “COME ON LETS RUN” The Vulgar Seawing shouted as she and Clay made a run for the exit, but were stormed by more and more guards, with them both being knocked on the heads by shields. “Shit! the hell do you guys think you’re doing…” The Seawing and Clay then both fell into unconsciousness

“TAKE THEM AWAY”

**

“Hey. Wake up! Come on!”

Clay began to wake up, his head feeling remarkably better from before, as he found himself in a strange type of dungeon alongside The Seawing

“You alright man?”

“Yeah, you?”

“Meh, I’ve been better…haven’t been in weird dungeons before for one” The Seawing then began to walk up to the cells door, and bash her hands against it “Oy! Let us out of here! Or I’ll turn this place into a construction site! Ugh, damn it where even are we?! some elaborate theater set?!” as she said that, her and Clay suddenly heard screams outside, almost as though a person was being tortured beyond it. “Whoa…whoawhoawhoawhoa man…we got to find a way out of here…shit, we’re too late” footsteps began to approach them, as the guards from before revealed themselves once again, with a man in a long blue royal robe behind them

“To think you of all people would try to go about as they please inside MY castle!” The man in the robe revealed none other than The Seawing Whirlpool, who also sported a tacky gold crown and despite his wear felt even LESS imposing to Clay than before

“Wait…Whirlpool? The hell kind of get up are you in???”

“Are you trying to go against me yet again, Tsunami? Seems mommy didn’t teach you your lesson well enough last time…and you even brought a stupid Mudwing as backup, to think you’d get soooo desperate!”

“This ain’t funny you ugly asshole!” Tsunami bashed against the bars yet again

“Is that how you speak to a king?! Not only have you broke into MY castle, but now you’ve spoken against me- THE KING, your punishment shall be death! Time for a quick execution!” Whirlpool(?) Then had his guards rush into the cell, and Tsunami quickly knocked one down with her tail

“Come on! Let’s get out of here!” Tsunami tried to grab Clay to make a run for it but was quickly struck in her side, knocking her against the wall, and Clay got between The Guards and her as they began to approach her

“Just get outta here! These guys are serious trouble! I’ll find a way!” Tsunami shouted, but Clay wasn’t buying it

“Oh? running away? to think you’d be such a heartless friend!” Whirlpool(?) callously mocked Clay, who still stood against the guards

“He ain’t a friend…COME ON, SAVE YOUR OWN SCALES ALREADY”

“Too scared to run? whatever, I’ll focus on the former princess instead!” Whirlpool(?) then had his guards quickly grab Clay and toss him aside, as he began to kick down the already hurt Tsunami while laughing “I waited so long to deal with a useless pest like you! Now I finally have you ready to be dealt with once and for all! hehehehehe, come on, where’s that energy from before?” Whirlpool(?) mocked. “Whatever, I’ll just kill you right now!”

“STOP IT!” Clay shouted, still trying to fight back, which momentarily caught King Whirlpools attention

“Hm? Are you trying to stand against me? how annoying, guards, hold him there, after this disgrace, he’s up next to die!” Guards then swarmed Clay to keep him down, as another prepared to execute Tsunami, who though she said nothing, was clearly terrified of what possibly awaited…

This is truly an unjust game…your chances of survival appear to be almost none, however, if my voice can reach you, then that truly means your will to survive just may triumph…

What are you doing? do you truly plan to simply watch? are you forsaking her for yourself? Death awaits hers if you do nothing! was your previous decision to protect your Sib a mistake then?

“NEVER” Clay shouted immediately, without any doubt in his mind of such, as he fought against the guards strength to try and save Tsunami

Very well then, I have taken note of your true resolve!

Clay suddenly felt a massive spike within his mind, as though it was exploding from in and out

Vow to me. I am Thou, Thou art I…Thou who is willing to stand against all which is absolute, and bring forth Thine own justice! Call upon my name, AND RELEASE YOUR RAGE

Clay shouted once again, distracting the guards for a moment, as his contract continued to be forged

Show the strength of thy will to discover all on thine own, even if one be damned by The Heavens and chained by The Hells themself!

“Hurry up and execute her!” King Whirlpool shouted

“That’s enough”

“…what was that?”

“I said,

That’s

ENOUGH”

a sudden burst of energy emitted from Clay, as he felt a strange white mask emerge upon his face, and with all his will, and in spite of all the pain, he ripped off with all his might, letting out a roar of pain and anger, as his blood soaked eyes revealed a new resolve, and a smile formed upon him that would make even the most dangerous of dragons quiver, as a burst of flames suddenly engulfed Clay from below, as the face of a true monster suddenly emerged from the flames, with a serpentine-like lower half, and wings of pure black, with a long Copper Coat that had black edges which seemed to be that of a snakes head, with fire that emitted from its eyes, and roars that almost seemed echo ever forth without stop in proud ungovernable fury

Instantly the guards surrounding Clay were destroyed by the mere emergence of this beast, and King Whirlpool ran away in fright without haste, leaving only Tsunami to see the new beast that befell the world

“Wha…what the…?”

all Clay could do now was smile in tandem with his new freedom, at the start of his new self, at the start of his new world.

I am the Dark Son of the Earth, Obsidian!

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 8

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7

A/N: Slightly shorter chap, but I promise the next one makes it worth it hehehe

The sun is bright in the cloudless sky above, the occasional seagull soaring and squawking by. With sunglasses covering her eyes, Isla gets away with gazing absently at the sky, the sounds of her friends around her bleeding into the background as she basks in the warmth of the sunlight, letting out a breath. Except Isla can’t bring herself to enjoy much of anything, at the moment, because her mind has been preoccupied with her conversation with Rafe back at the country club. It settles in her stomach like a rock, unmoving and sending a bad taste to her mouth, and she knows the only way to make it better is to talk to Rafe and apologize to him.

As expected, when she and JJ showed up to the Chateau, their friends had been indignant at the sight of his black eye, demanding to know what happened. To Isla’s secret relief, JJ had told them the truth about his dad, but she did note the hint of shame that weighed his tone when he spoke. She hates that he feels as though he needs to be ashamed of the abuse he suffers from because of Luke, and more than anything, Isla hates Luke for laying a finger on JJ. Anytime he gets hurt at the hands of his dad, JJ just laughs or brushes it off, never wanting his friends to worry. But they’re family, more than they are friends, and of course Isla and the others are pissed on his behalf. There’s a reason JJ has his own room in the Chateau. JJ is a lot of things, but he will never be abandoned by his friends.

And Isla is certain if she ever lays eyes on Luke Maybank again, she’s going to call the cops on the spot.

Sighing, Isla props herself up on her elbow, grabbing the can of beer sitting on the floor of the boat and taking a long sip of the cool drink. Pope sits at the front of the boat, reading, while the others are in the water, swimming around the boat.

She lays back down, the surface warm under her back, loosening another breath as she lets her eyes fall shut. Except Pope suddenly says, “That’s the third time you’ve sighed in two minutes.”

Isla raises herself up on her elbows again, arching an eyebrow at him. “Why are you keeping track of my sighs?” she counters.

“Why is your vibe so melancholy?” Pope shoots back without hesitation, pulling a glare from Isla. He puts his book down on his lap, the brim of his cap shielding his eyes from the sun. “Seriously. You’ve been a little off since you got here. Everything good?”

Isla’s chest tightens because she knows Pope means well, but she also knows she definitely can’t tell him about why she’s been so in her head. Her lips part, trying to think of something. “I—”

“Is it because of Luke?” Pope carries on, not hearing her, but it’s the perfect excuse for Isla to latch onto—especially because it’s partially true, anyway.

“Yeah,” she nods, clearing her throat lightly as she sits up, back to the water as she leans down to grab her beer. 

Pope shakes his head, his gaze drifting towards the water. She follows his gaze to watch JJ, Kie, John B, and Sarah playing chicken in the water as Cleo both referees and records it on Sarah’s small pink digital camera. “Is it too much to ask for him to disappear out of JJ’s life for good?” Pope mutters as they watch the grin spread on JJ’s face, his hands gripping Kie’s thighs as she sits on his shoulders.

“Probably,” Isla mumbles into her next sip of beer, her gaze dropping to her phone sitting next to her.

Her fingers itch to reach for it, to send a message to Rafe. But what could she even say? I’m sorry for assuming you punched one of my best friends? She is sorry, but from the way Rafe had looked at her—with disappointment, hurt, and maybe even a little resignation—Isla has a feeling that simply words weren’t going to work. With the way her and Rafe’s relationship was rapidly changing—hell, from going to being nonexistent to whatever it is now—it never should’ve even been a thought to cross her mind. But it was, and she feels guilty about it and makes a mess of her already befuddled feelings.

One thing is for sure: Isla doesn’t want this budding change between her and Rafe to be ended before it even has the chance to begin.

“Hey—don’t stress out about it,” Pope says, cutting into her thoughts. His words have her blinking rapidly behind her sunglasses, bewildered, before quickly realizing he is, of course, talking about JJ and his dad. Because that’s what Pope thinks is bothering her. Pope shoots her a smile. “JJ’ll be alright. He’s got us, right?”

Isla smiles, somehow both forced yet not. “Right,” she agrees, and it might be the only purely honest thing she’s said in this conversation that doesn’t have a braid of lies hidden underneath.

Because, of course, her situation with Rafe isn’t one she can talk about with any of her friends. This is one problem she’s going to have to solve on her own. 

Finishing the rest of her beer, Isla gets up and walks to the other end of the boat, opposite of Pope, and steps up on the ledge. The water glitters under the afternoon sun and a second later, Isla dives in, the water blissfully cool against her skin as she is submerged.

When Isla breaks through the surface with a gasp, she wipes the water away from her face, slicking her wet hair back as she stays afloat under the warm sun. Unfortunately, the cooling dip did nothing to wash away the thoughts of Rafe and how she no doubt upset him, and Isla sighs as she floats on her back, arms treading water as she slips her eyes shut. 

All she sees is the hurt in Rafe’s eyes, and Isla knows she needs to figure out how to make things better sooner rather than later. 

*****

Isla fiddles with the thin chain of the gold bracelet around her wrist as her mom’s SUV pulls into the parking lot of the country club, tall lamps illuminating the area under the night sky. The blast of the air condition raises goosebumps on her arms, the skin exposed due to the gown she has on. It’s satin, like Kie’s, except while Kie’s is a pale lavender with spaghetti straps, Isla’s is a dusty pink with a sweetheart neckline and is off the shoulders, the thick straps hanging around her biceps, and a slit going up her right leg. And while Kie’s hair is done up and a flower crown adorns her head, Isla’s hair is styled down in waves, locks of hair threaded together in a braid to pull them back behind her head with tiny white daisies woven into them.

It had taken her and Kie a few hours to get ready for Midsummers, but while Kie had bemoaned looking like a bourgeoisie pig, Isla had quite liked what she saw when she looked in the mirror. For the first time in a few days, she actually felt good and her sister’s hatred of Midsummers wasn’t going to dampen her mood. 

Because for the past couple of days, Isla hasn’t gotten the chance to talk to Rafe, and that had fucked with her mood more than she had expected it to. Her messages to him remained unread, and she hasn’t seen him around that much, either, over the course of the last few days. The whole situation is strange because, God, only a little while ago if she had insulted Rafe, she wouldn’t necessarily care; she definitely wouldn’t lose sleep over it. But embarrassment and guilt constantly have her up in knots, unsure of what to say to Rafe other than apologize to him. Which she has, multiple times, in their messages, but he hasn’t responded. 

Isla hopes that he’s going to be at Midsummers tonight and somehow, someway, with Kie and Sarah and Pope all there, she can find a way to get Rafe alone and talk to him. Face to face, so he can’t ignore her.

The back garden area of the club is decorated beautifully for Midsummers, with string lights illuminating the place, waiters wandering around holding trays of flutes of champagne, and a live band set up on the side playing music that doesn’t overwhelm the atmosphere. The first half an hour or so is spent mingling with the other guests while Isla’s eyes keep darting around in search of Rafe yet never catching sight of him, disappointingly enough.

Even when they meet with the Camerons, it’s only Sarah, her dad, and step-mom that Isla sees, and she tries not to frown too obviously at the fact that Rafe is still missing. Holy hell, why is it so difficult to track him down when she needs to? They’ve been constantly running into each other, and the one time she needs to talk to him, he’s nowhere to be seen. Frustration mounts, but Isla pastes a smile onto her face, even when Kie grabs hers and Sarah’s arms and pulls them along to go to Pope.

The grass is soft beneath Isla’s heels as she lets her sister pull her, though that doesn’t keep her gaze from wandering, searching. “Don’t you three look snazzy,” Pope comments once they get to where he’s standing, grinning at them.

Kie’s face scrunches. “We look like sacrificial pigs,” she drolls with a roll of her eyes.

Trying to focus on the conversation, Isla bumps Kie’s hip with her own and says, “We do look snazzy, shush.”

“And it’s the one time we can drink without our parents giving us shit for it,” Sarah adds with a twinkle in her eye, grinning.

“Speaking of which. . .” Pope says, smiling as he looks over their shoulders.

Isla and the girls turn, watching JJ approach them in a classy waiter uniform that he no doubt refers to as a penguin suit, carrying a round tray of champagne flutes. Despite his own Kook related irritation, JJ grins, his bruises fading, and holds the tray out. “Drinks for the ladies?”

“Don’t mind if I do,” Isla mutters, taking one of the glasses and immediately taking a long sip, only becoming aware of her friends’ surprised and amused expressions when she pulls the glass away from her lips. “What?” she asks, slightly defensive.

Pope arches an eyebrow. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Isla says with a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as forced as it feels. “Just here to enjoy the night.”

“This feels so pretentious,” Kie remarks, eyeing the glass she holds in her hand.

Isla rolls her eyes. “Just enjoy the free alcohol, Kie,” she says, her patience wearing thin as she takes another sip.

Fortunately, her sister merely shrugs and drinks as prompted. The group of them stand and chat for a few minutes, before JJ has to get back to work and Pope’s dad returns and they need to work on the oysters. Isla sticks with Kie and Sarah for the most part, more often than not tuning out of their conversation as she searches for Rafe. She can’t help it, and it’s driving her crazy. Part of her wonders if Rafe is pointedly ignoring her, which she wouldn’t blame him for. But then the other part tells herself she’s likely giving herself too much significance in Rafe’s life. Maybe the reason he hasn’t talked to her is because he doesn’t want to; maybe he already grew bored of whatever the hell had been brewing between them and moved on.

Admittedly, the thought of that makes a knot form in the middle of Isla’s chest, her grip on her emptying champagne glass tightening in response. A pit of dread even forms in the bottom of her stomach, like she is on the verge of losing something that’s slipping through her fingers too quickly. There’s a nagging voice in the back of Isla’s mind telling her to let it go, that cutting off whatever had been happening between her and Rafe at the legs, before it even had a chance to begin, is the right call. Less complicated when it comes to her friends. 

And yet, the idea of it leaves a bitter taste in Isla’s mouth.

As she finishes off her champagne, her gaze catches on some people walking out onto the porch across the dancefloor, and the breath hitches in Isla’s throat when she finally spots Rafe. He’s dressed in a summery, beige suit with a white button down underneath, a no doubt expensive watch on his wrist as he chats with Topper and Kelce. Rafe leans one elbow against the porch railing, holding a glass, and it’s as though in that moment, he can feel Isla’s gaze on him, because his head turns just so until their eyes lock across the way.

Isla’s heart launches itself to her throat as she watches him watch her and even from where she stands, she sees that mask of his break. The indifference cracks for a split second, but her sharp eyes catch it, the way his gaze softens and lips part before he forces himself to school his features. But Isla caught it. Even from where she stands, with all of these people in between them, she caught it, because it’s impossible to look away from him. And she has been thinking about him too much, these last few days, to not take note of every single detail about him.

She watches as he opens his mouth, free hand reaching up to massage his jaw as he cuts his gaze away from her, but Isla can see the sudden rigidness of his shoulders. Seeing her is having some kind of effect on him, possibly the same effect seeing him is having on her, and she knows that without a doubt, she is going to find some way to get them alone so she can talk to him.

Because there is a truth that dances on the tip of her tongue, and the first person Isla wants to admit it to is Rafe, not even herself. He is, after all, the first one who should hear it.

Isla knows it’s not going to be easy to try and find a moment alone with him—not with her friends, and his, around. She’ll need to find the right opportunity, and hope that he isn’t intent on avoiding her.

[seeingivy]

it's time to go

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

an: im sweating.

songs/media mentioned: happiness by taylor swift and it's time to go by taylor swift (not mentioned but name of the chapter!!)

previous part linked here

--

You take a deep breath in as you stand at the shining bright doors of the building, the reflective mirrors at the front showing you your small frame in comparison. You brush down the ends of your dress, ridding your palms of the sweat accumulating as you push through the doors. 

There’s a receptionist sitting at the front, with short black hair who is diligently typing away on the computer. You can see the issue of Vogue, the one the Attack on Titan cast did for season two, placed in a placard at the top of the desk. And when you look around, you see that every Vogue cover you’ve done - the one of you and Sukuna, for your albums - is displayed everywhere. 

Then again. This is a big deal. Surely it’ll be their biggest feature of the year. 

“Alright. Your interview should be up the stairs, in room eleven. They’ll start set-up at twenty and then the interview will start at half-past.” she states, handing you a shiny key-card. 

“Would you happen to know if my request regarding the piano was approved?” 

“I believe so. It should be in the room.” she responds, smiling. 

“Thank you!” you respond. 

You walk up the stairs and find the room, a few workers shuffling around the set. They all give you polite smiles as you walk straight onto the stage, an expensive brown couch on the left and the grand piano you requested on the right. 

You take your backpack off and pull out the box, filled with polaroids all tagged to perfection for your interview, as they all start adjusting the microphones and cameras into place. A shorter, older woman walks up to you, shaking the microphone pack in her hand as she gestures for you to stand up. 

“Hi! Thank you so much for helping me out today. I’m Y/N.” you respond, clipping the pack to the back of your dress. 

“No problem. I’m Leila.” 

You pause. 

“I know you. We-we’ve met before, right?” 

Her face widens in shock as she nods, a bright smile spreading across her face. 

“Yes, that’s right.” she murmurs, voice quiet. 

“It was…god. That was years ago, back when we were doing press for season two. We filmed a video for your daughter, she was asleep and she was a really big fan, right? How is she doing?” 

“She’s doing good. She’s still a big fan of your music.” she says, smiling as she loops the wires through your ears, shuffling your hair behind your ear as she readjusts. 

“That’s sweet. I’m so glad she enjoys it, that-that’s very special to me that she does.” you respond, cheeks warm and something stirring in your chest. 

You take her in full, trying hard to wrack your brain for how she used to look. She’s definitely years older now - five to be exact - but you can’t pinpoint any. No wrinkles, no tiredness - still the same woman you knew. 

But you’re miles away from who you used to be, having aged what feels like eons. You think back to the interview, the compliments you and Eren gave to each other stinging in your mind. 

Eren. I wouldn’t be standing here if it wasn’t for you. Not only because you took a chance on me after our first screen test, but every other hiccup along the way was only something I could swallow because of you. You-your steadfast determination and belief in me is something so inspiring, so warm unlike anything else. You’ve always been a safe place for me, somewhere I can always run to when I need someone. I’m so glad we can always be fish together. 

Y/N. You’ve always been able to sense my feelings - my happiness, my frustrations, my pain - without me having to tell you. And you always, always know how to say the right thing to bring me back down to Earth from it all. You make me a better person and I love you for it.

You’re sure you're crying as you look back at Leila, her eyes wide as she reaches forward to wipe the tears. The deep feeling, the sadness sitting so deep in your chest that you’ve been trying to ignore, is suddenly too overwhelming, too loud for you to swallow. 

“I’m so sorry. Was it something I said?” she asks, her look frantic. 

You take her hand in yours, squeezing three times. 

“No. It’s me. I just remembered that interview. What Eren and I had said to each other and it made me a little sad, that’s all.” you respond, wiping your tears against the back of your hand. 

Her face deflates. 

“I’m very sorry for what happened. To the both of you.” 

You sigh. 

“Thank you. I-I appreciate that.” 

“This industry is not kind. To anyone. And having seen how you two were as kids, how genuine,  it’s sad to see what they’ve said to you both. You know that most of it, if any, isn’t your fault. People- they’re cruel. You’re a very brave girl for still coming here.” 

You swallow hard. And hope she still thinks you’re brave at the end of your interview. 

You sit down on the couch, anxiously tucking the ends of your hair towards the back of your ears, as the interviewer walks in, a bright smile on her face. Leila leaves, giving you a thumbs up as she walks away.

“Y/N. Congratulations. I’m Layla. Thank you for finally coming down for your interview.” she states, taking her seat on the couch next to you as they adjust the microphone in front of her. She has a blue box in her hands, which she tucks behind the couch. 

You don’t miss the snub she makes at you for postponing for months on end. You became a triple threat months ago. And your interview - about your career, about your work - was supposed to happen ages ago. 

“Thank you for waiting until I was ready. I can promise you-you won’t be disappointed with what I have for you. What’s that?” 

“It’s for you. We’re saving it for the end of the interview.” she states, giving you a smile. 

You nod, as you brace your knuckles against your own box, the director coming over to give you both directions and stage you properly against the cameras. 

“Hello everyone! My name is Layla Ray and I’m here with Y/N L/N. After a great deal of anticipation, Y/N is finally here, seated with Vogue, for the infamous triple threat interview. We’re going to go through the highs and lows of her career and ultimately discuss what comes with such a great title. Y/N, how are you feeling?” she asks, giving you a bright smile. 

You swallow hard. 

“Thank you, Layla. I’m doing okay. How are you?” 

“I’m great, thank you for asking. This interview has been a long time coming. Six months to be exact. Any particular reason why?” she states, adjusting her tone to be quieter, matching your tone. You can tell she’s a skilled interviewer - the excitement from before dying down as she brings the energy lower. 

“I-I wanted to be sure of what I wanted to say here. I want to be honest when we talk about my career and that requires self-reflection. I needed the time to do that. And I-I brought things here to share so I had to put those together too.” you state. 

“We’ll go back to the start then. What drew you to the industry - acting, singing, dancing?” she asks. 

You pull out your first picture, the one you ripped off of your wall. The paint is still stuck to the tape on the back, the picture of you, Falco, and Colt at your popstar themed birthday party. Colt and Falco have excited smiles on their faces, a sparkly pink crown on top of your head and your hands are clenched around the microphone, at the bottom. You can hear Eren’s words ringing in your mind. 

Everyone else holds the microphone at the top, their fingers nearly wrapped around the wire. You’re like the only person I know who holds it at the bottom - like you’re doing in the picture. 

“This is me at my fourth birthday party. It was a popstar themed birthday party my parents threw for me. I performed a little show for them and my brothers, did karaoke, the whole thing. I-I saw Hange’s speech a few years later when they became a triple threat and it-it basically cemented this as my dream.” you respond, holding up the picture before handing it to Layla. 

She’s smiling, running her fingers over the picture. 

“This must be a surreal moment. A dream come true.” 

You wish. 

“Let’s talk about Attack on Titan. How did you find out about it, what was it like being cast, and on a set for the first time?” 

“I found out about it through a flier at my coffee shop. I kind of showed up on a whim and did a chemistry read with my co-star. I got the role later that week and was flown out to be with them all. I-I was overwhelmed when I got there at first. I didn’t know much about the set, the terms that you’re supposed to use, they-they had to teach it all to me, like I was a five year old. A fish out of water moment.” 

You nervously walk to the other side of the set, where Eren’s sitting in the makeup chair. The team is brushing through the ends of his brown locks, his eyes fixed on his script in front of him, as he murmurs his lines under his breath. You reach forward and snatch the paper out of his hands and tuck it under your arm. 

“Good morning to you too, Y/N.” he responds, eyes wide as he smiles at you. 

“Sorry. Good morning, Eren.” 

He smiles. 

“I was joking. Did you need something?” 

“I have an embarrassing question. Can you come here?” you murmur, cheeks burning pink. 

He quickly hops off the chair, giving a sympathetic nod to the makeup team, as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, his face close to yours as you talk in hushed tones. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“What’s a hot brick?” you ask. 

“Huh?” 

“Hange. They-they asked me to bring them a hot brick. And when I said what, they were like…You do know what a hot brick is, right? And I got so embarrassed I kind of ran away and now I don’t know what to do.” 

Eren pauses as he registers, which is immediately followed by him smiling and leading you towards the back of the room. He picks up one of the charged batteries of the walkie talkies and places it flat in your palm. 

“A hot brick is a fully charged battery.” 

“Oh. Right. Th-thanks, Eren.” 

He puts his hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s only like your sixth day on a set. I didn’t even know this stuff until the end of my first movie. You-you aren’t behind, I promise.” 

“Okay. Thanks, I guess.” 

“I’ll help you. Before the rest of the cast gets here. Teach you all the terms and the secrets and stuff. You’ll be a natural.” 

“Really?” 

Eren gives you a nod, the smile on his face drawing your eyes to his dimples. 

“Thank you, Eren. Really.” 

“It’s no biggie. I’ll help you with anything you want. Just ask, okay?” 

“One of our most overwhelming questions that we received was what was it like filming with your cast? Your show - along with Jujutsu Kaisen - were really the first of their types to have such a big child actor presence on them.” 

You smile, pulling out your next three pictures. The first - it's a picture of you and Bertholdt, holding a World’s Greatest Dad mug in front of Levi, who has the most annoyed expression on his face. The second is of you and Historia - tying Reiner’s hair into two tiny ponytails. And the third - you and Marco, hugging each other so hard that your cheeks are pressed together. 

“It was the time of my life, really. I-I went to sleep every night with a smile on my face. They were genuinely such good friends of mine and this experience, these memories - they’ll always be special to me.”

“Do you have a favorite memory?” she asks. 

“Hm. I-we were all kind of immature at that age. I still am. Anything related to dirty jokes, especially when Erwin or Hange were involved is a surefire favorite. Sometimes I’ll remember them and still burst out laughing.” 

The teacher stands at the front of the makeshift classroom, the lazy energy enveloping the room. The warm haze of the summer has the ends of your hair sticking to your neck, the cold desk soothing your burning skin - preventing you from listening to whatever the physics teacher is saying about the solar system. 

You look to your right to find the same sentiment shared by everyone else too. Eren’s eyes are closed, his chin resting against his desk as the sweat rolls down the side of his face. Connie and Sasha are sharing a cold drink between them and Jean’s nearly turning pink as he fans Mikasa - the only one who looks relatively comfortable right now. 

You kick Eren’s leg.

“Hm? What’dya want, sweetheart?” he murmurs. 

“Jean is fanning Mika. You could do the same.” you groan. 

You feel a light breeze on your neck as you turn your head to see Eren, leaning against his arm as he fans you with the book. You take it from his hand, giving a head shake as you turn to your side, the two of you facing each other on the aisles. You instinctively place your feet on top of his, the two of you looking at each other. 

“I was kidding.” 

“I know. I don’t mind though. You’re looking a little hot.” 

You smile. 

“Just a little?” 

“Shut up. You know exactly what I think about how you look.” he says, rolling his eyes. 

You bite back your smile. 

“And that’s why the answer is Uranus.” the teacher says, metal pointer smacking against the board. 

You look up at Eren, the two of you so incredulous - from the heat, from being stuck in here for three hours, from how stupid of a word it is - that you both burst out laughing. And then get in trouble together. 

“What the hell was so funny that your teacher had to take you out of class?” Levi asks, arms crossed against his chest as he stares the two of you down, hours later. Hange and Erwin are trying to mimic his intimidated stance, but all you and Eren can do is laugh. 

“Um. You don’t want to know, Levi.” you respond. 

“It’s stupid. We’re sorry.” Eren states. 

“No. No, I want to know what was so funny that you laughed so hard you pissed one of your nicest teachers off.” 

You and Eren give each other a look. 

“It-it’s inappropriate. We’re really sorry, okay? We’ll go and apologize right away.” 

You and Eren stand up, linking arms together as you move to walk away. Except Levi’s moved in front of you two, an entirely different look on his face. 

“Do I need to have a talk with you two?” 

“What?” you ask. 

“A talk. About sex.” 

You and Eren turn your heads to each other, eyes wide. And you immediately start back tracking. 

“Levi. Ew- oh my god. What’s wrong with you? You’re so disgusting. And-and-and a pervert.” 

“Y/N. Do we have to have a talk? Are you being safe? Why are you guys making dirty jokes in class that you can’t tell me?” he repeats, eyes burning into yours. 

“No! Oh my god Levi! It’s not like that.” 

Levi looks back at Hange as you look over at Eren, who's pouting at you. 

“What, Eren?” 

“You don’t have to act like you’re soooo repulsed by it. That’s not what you sounded like-” 

You smack your hand over his mouth, cheeks burning. 

“Eren. Shut up. This is not the time or the place to be bringing THAT up.” 

He smirks, clearly delighted by how embarrassed you are, before pressing a kiss to your palm where you’re covering his mouth. He turns back to Levi, Hange, and Erwin. 

“Levi. We’re sorry. The teacher said Uranus and we thought it was funny.” 

“Uranus? What the fuck is so funny about Uranus?” Levi asks. 

You bite down on your cheeks to stop yourself from laughing in Levi’s face - his very angry face. Luckily enough for you, you're not the first one to break. And neither is Eren. 

It’s Hange. They’re smacking the back of Levi’s back as they ask him to say it again, the four of you - Erwin having joined you - as you all goad Levi on to say it again. And you laugh so hard that by the end of it, you’re on the floor - screaming for them to stop as Eren rubs circles into your back. 

Your chest twinges, as she hands the pictures back, and you tuck them back into the box. 

“The success after season one of Attack on Titan was pretty tremendous. You guys essentially became house names overnight. How did that feel, especially given your background? Nepotism runs deep and heavy in what we do and you seem to be one of our only outliers, here.” 

“It was horrible.” 

A shocked look spreads across her face. 

“I’m grateful for it all. Don’t get me wrong. But my life changed overnight. I-I went to school and I wasn’t treated as the same person anymore, by people I grew up with. There were people hanging around my school, waiting to take pictures of me, and-and anyone who had a chance of understanding me, they were all miles away. Filming.” 

“Did you feel that often? Comparing yourself to your co-stars?” 

“Originally, no. I-I was just happy to be there. But people, I mean. They talk. It-it kind of cemented that idea in my mind. I didn’t think it was weird that I was the only one who wasn’t filming until someone pointed it out. And-and someone always pointed these things out.” you respond. 

Colt snatches the phone from your hands, an irritated look on his face as he slides it into his pocket. After a six hour phone call with your new publicist and producers - Danny and Sareen - all you could do was aimlessly scroll through social media, their words swimming through your mind as you considered your options. 

“Quit reading that shit.” he says, making an effort to storm out of your room. He hangs by the door when he reaches it, his hands pressed against the frame. 

You shuffle under the blanket, pulling the soft fabric over your head. And a few seconds later, Colt’s pulling it off, expression a bit softer than before. 

“I-I just don’t get why you read it. What’s the point?” 

“I dunno.” 

He slides onto your bed, putting his cold legs next to yours under the blanket as you complain. 

“In my meeting with Danny and Sareen. They-they’re the new producer and the manager that reached out to me. They were saying all this stuff about how I can’t drop the ball anymore. How if I have people paying attention to me now, I-I have to keep it going.” 

Colt frowns. 

“I-I don’t know how this stuff works. What does that have to do with you reading a bunch of people saying rude stuff about you online?” 

“I told them I had time to decide, figure out what I want to do next. They said I should look online and reconsider. That if I want to be a triple threat, I-I should trust them.” 

“Do you?” 

“Yeah. They-they’re right. And they seem like the type to push me in the right direction, like Levi and Hange. I know they’ll do whatever to help me be the best. They want what I want.” 

Colt shrugs. And you know he doesn’t understand. 

“Let’s talk about season two. You made history this season - by being nominated for Best Actress in a Lead role among many others, becoming the most nominated actress in Institute history in one night. How did that feel? To-to do that so young?” 

“That-that was a win. It came after something really, really intense for me actually. I-I had all these feelings about what it was like to be famous. Building for months. And-and I got them put into words for me right before that happened. It was kind of like going from a really low low to the highest of highs. I-Intense is the word I’d use for it.” 

“Could you elaborate? On that?” 

You swallow hard. 

“Being famous is like living in a fishbowl. There’s-there’s glass in between you, the viewers, and me the person. And it may seem like you can see me, that you and I are the same but the glass is always between us. You enjoy on the other side, smack against the glass, sometimes even put your rods out to wring us out. We-we’re stuck there, that’s all. I realized that and found out I got nominated minutes after. But that’s this job for you. You’re at the bottom one minute and the top the next.” 

Her eyes flutter down to your tattoo but she doesn’t make a point to mention it. 

“Let’s discuss music now. Following winning Best Actress in a Drama Series, your impressive albums and tours started. You released your debut album, followed by lover girl, and then ribbons. This-this was an insane feat on your part - most artists take four to five years to produce albums at this pace. What motivated you during this time?” 

“My manager and my producer are pushing me at every step.” 

She smiles. 

“That’s some support system.” 

“That’s not the word I would use for it.” you respond, voice cutting.

She nods. 

“That’s right. Following your last performance, rumors were flying around that you had fired Danny and Sareen, your beloved manager and producer. Is this true?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why, if I may ask?” 

“I just told you. They were pushing me at every step.” 

You sigh, looking down at your hands, knotting your fingers together. One of the first things, you could come under fire for, is talking about them, so bluntly the way you are. 

“I looked up to them. My previous example from my mentors - Hange and Levi - was perfect. Almost too perfect. Because of them, because of how willing they were to support me, to defend me, I thought everyone was like that. I thought every person who was willing to be on my team was taking into account that I didn’t know much about the industry and pushing me in the right direction.”

“And that wasn’t true for them?” 

You take a deep breath. 

“I think they used that to their advantage. That I had a blind faith in them. That I wanted to please them, to please other people. I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal to put out three records, to do world tours that fast. I didn’t know that it was insane that I forgot to eat some days, I didn’t know that it was crazy that they were waking me up after two hours of sleep to put me to work. I-I thought that it was all part of the hustle.” 

“How do you feel about it now? Having fired them?” 

“I-I don’t regret what they’ve done for me. I-I am thankful to them. If anything, I’m more embarrassed of what they did make me do. Why I didn’t think twice on things they asked me to do, songs they convinced me to write.” 

She looks intrigued. She knows she’s getting into the good stuff. 

“Songs like?” 

“London Boy.” you respond. 

“That brings us to Ricky James. Are you saying that you didn’t write London Boy?” 

“No. No, I wrote it. But I was asked to write it the way I did. Write a love song about him.” 

“Because?” 

“Press. It’ll get people to talk. People get bored of the same thing over and over again after years.” you respond, repeating Danny and Sareen’s words, about Eren. 

You sigh. 

“It’s embarrassing to admit that I did that. Pretend just to get people to listen to my music. I-I am ashamed of it.” 

“It’s okay. We-we understand.” 

“I don’t think you do.” you whisper. 

You can feel the tears pricking your eyes. 

“I-I regret it. It’s a horrible thing to do. Especially when, when you have real love and you give it up to pretend. And it’s humiliating to pretend, to see people coo over you and a guy you barely even know. But when you’re famous, when people are telling you this is what you have to do, when this is what everyone does, it doesn’t seem like much to give up. I-I could feel the shame crawling in my skin when I look back at it now.” 

You swallow down the regret, thick in your throat. 

“How so?” 

“The night my album premiered, Ribbons. In the past, all my best friends, they-they’d come to listen with me. Throw me a party, press kisses to my cheeks. I turned them all down that year. It’s one thing to pretend to everyone you know. It’s another thing to do it to people who know better. Who know what you’re doing. I didn’t want to pretend in front of their faces. ” 

“Speaking of that night. Could you speak on this?”

She sides the picture, the one the paparazzi took of you on the curb before Lana got to you, towards you. You pick it up and look at it - at your eyes pinched shut and your drenched hair. 

“It’s simple. Ricky James started liking me. Asked me out. I said no. And then he locked me out in the rain.” 

You see the discomfort spread across her face as she slides the picture back. 

“I’m very sorry that happened to you. But you came out of it at the top, with your hit featuring Lana Price. Was she part of your support system during that time?” 

You smile. 

“Yeah.” 

“Can’t sleep?” 

You look up from the shelves you were currently pawing through to find Lana, rubbing her knuckles into her eyes, as she walks over to where you’re standing. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted water but I couldn't find the glasses.” 

She smiles as she wraps her hand around your wrist and leads you to the other side of the kitchen, taking a glass out of the correct cabinet and filling it up for you. You both lean against the counter, illuminated by the fridge of the kitchen light in the dark kitchen. 

And suddenly you’re crying again, wet, warm tears falling down the length of your face. At the thought of where you were four nights ago - running in the rain until she picked you up. You aggressively wipe the tears off of your cheeks as she catches on. And Lana, despite this being the second time having met you, is quick to pull you into her arms, the sweet strawberry smell of hers filling your nose. 

“You smell like candy.” 

“Don’t go biting me now.” 

You laugh, pressing against her arms harder as your tears fall onto her shoulder, trying to muffle your sobs by clamping your mouth shut. 

“Eren told me. About Colt.” 

She pulls back, wiping the tears off your cheek as she talks, softly. 

“You’ll get better at doing this. Protecting them. I can almost guarantee it.” she says, giving you a smile. 

“How do you know?” 

“Because I did it. Which means you can too.” she responds, placing her glass of water in your hands. 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“Yes, it is. I’ll help you. Eren will help you.” she responds. 

“You’re already doing enough for me. Both of you. I’m intruding on your house right now.” 

You feel two hands, warm, around your neck, accompanied with a light squeeze. And then Eren, his voice still raspy from sleep, whispering in your ear. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yeah?” you whisper.

“Say that again and I’ll kill you. What’s mine is yours.” he responds, sliding his hands off of you as he pushes the fridge door closed and opens the light. 

Lana groans. 

“God. Would it kill you to put a shirt on, ugly?” 

“Would it kill you to brush your hair, you hag? Or maybe not wake me up in the middle of the night?” 

“That wasn’t even me. Y/N woke up first!” 

“It was your croaking that woke me up, Lana. You sound like a toad.” he mutters. 

You laugh, which breaks the two of them out of their argument, and has soft smiles spreading across both of their faces. 

“You guys are like siblings.” 

Lana comes over, hands cupping your face. 

“My sweet, sweet Y/N. Please don’t insult me.” 

And then Eren’s behind you, arms slithering around your waist, his voice warm in your ear again. 

“That’s the meanest thing you’ve ever said to me, princess.” 

“Quit flirting, Eren. You’re such a manwhore.” Lana says. 

“Princess was her nickname on set, dumbass. Because she’s a pop princess. I’m not flirting.” Eren responds, 

“Wow. So you’re too good to flirt with Y/N. You think you’re better than her?” 

“What?” Eren asks, leaning off of you. 

Catching on to what Lana’s trying to do, you turn around and look at Eren, trying to hide your coy expression. 

“Do you really think that, Eren?” 

His eyes go wide, hands on your shoulders. 

“No! No, oh my god! I don’t think I’m better than you. If anything, you-you’re better than me. I’ll flirt with you all you want. I swear!” 

You and Lana stare him down for a few seconds before you burst out laughing, a pink spreading across Eren’s cheek as he grumbles, an irritated look on his face as he shoves past Lana. 

“You guys are annoying. I’m going back to bed.” 

“Aw, Eren! Come back! Flirt with her!” Lana says, teasing him on. 

“Don’t stay down here too, Y/N. You’re going to lose brain cells.” he murmurs, shuffling away. 

You turn back to Lana, who's filling your glass with water again. She has a soft smile on her face, eyes warm as she hands you the water. 

“This type of stuff…it really helps.” she says. 

“This type of stuff?” 

“Good people. Who want to take care of you. Make you laugh after you cry, all that cheesy stuff.” 

You hum, leaning against the counter again. 

“Lean on Eren. Don’t get so jumbled up on what it means and how he’s feeling because he just wants to be there for you.” she says. 

“I’m trying to. I guess I just feel bad.” 

“I would have benefited a lot from someone like Eren, if I knew him when I was younger. When I was-” 

You quirk your head to the side, beckoning for her to elaborate. 

“For the longest time, I thought that this is just how guys were. Assholes. Dicks. That it was a matter of finding one who was relatively nice, good enough. That real guys, they’re never like this.” 

You frown. 

“My dad was an asshole. Ricky was horrible. My brother was the only person who was nice to me but we just- we lived so far and with the jobs and stuff we grew apart. And when I had to deal with things on my own, things I was too young to even understand, I-” 

She pauses. Swallowing hard. 

“I would have benefitted from knowing Eren earlier. Guys like Eren, like your friends Jean and Marco. Eren’s helped with a lot of my shame and made me better. I-I owe a lot to him really. I know we said what we said earlier, but he is like my brother. He’s always protected me. Overwhelmed me with kindness under insults.” 

You smile. 

“He’s a good guy. Always has been.” you whisper, heart warm at Eren being Eren, still. 

“So let him. Overwhelm you with kindness. Be there for you. You have no reason to be ashamed. And every reason to be scared. Quit feeling bad and just let him. He’s the person you’re comfortable with here.” 

You smile, leaning your head against your shoulder. 

“Dunno. You’re pretty cool too.” 

She laughs. 

“Yeah?” 

“You know what would be cool. If you guys went to bed.” Eren says, shuffling into the room again. 

Lana groans. 

“All men have is the audacity. You just ruined a really sweet moment.” 

You smile at Eren, which he returns. 

“Can Lana sleep with us?” 

He stops smiling. 

“Huh?” 

“You sleep on the left and she can sleep on my right!” you respond. 

“Y/N.” he whines. 

“Please? It’ll be like a sleepover. I can’t have bad things on my mind before I go to bed if you’re both there.”

“No thanks, sweet girl.” Lana says. 

“I’m trying to lean on you guys! Give in.” you respond. 

They both groan as they agree, the three of you shuffling towards Eren’s room. You settle straight into the middle of Eren’s bed, as they both shuffle around - loudly talking in Eren’s bathroom. 

“Ew, Eren. Why did you just kiss my cheek? I’m not Y/N, idiot.” 

“That was for you, Lana Bear!”  

“What pervert spirit possessed you at this time of night? And you know how I feel about that nickname after what Hyla said to me at dinner, so shut up.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Lana. And I just wanted you to know I love you too. You’re like a sister to me.” 

You hear Lana smack Eren. 

“Were you eavesdropping? Asshole. I was lying. None of it was true.” 

“Okay, Lana. Sure thing.” 

“I’m serious!” 

You shake the memory from your head, as you pull out the picture for her to see, one of you and Lana that Eren took. You’re both on his couch, your hands tangled in the bowl of popcorn - glaring at the camera. Eren was blocking your rewatch of High School Musical. 

“Speaking of support systems, one of your most talked about relationships is that with your co-star, Historia Reiss. After seemingly dropping songs about each other and making up and breaking up, there’s a lot of speculation on what happened. Anything to share?” 

You smile. 

“Historia and I are friends. And friendship is complicated. You just got to witness ours first hand, that’s all. Everything between us - it’s water under the bridge, if there ever even was one. We’re just really similar and we butt heads. We still love each other at the end of the day.” you say. 

“Well that’s lovely to hear. How about Ryomen Sukuna? The two of you are all anyone talks about these days, especially after how cozy you two were on the red carpet.” 

You snort. And pull out the polaroid - of you and Sukuna, of him kissing your cheek at the awards show. And in the background, Nobara and Maki are pretending to gag. 

“We’re not dating. And we won’t ever. We’re just really good friends.” 

“Friends kiss each other on red carpets?” 

“These ones do!” you respond, smiling. 

She laughs, nodding as you tuck the picture back into the box. She swallows hard, rubbing her hands against her palms as she asks her next question. The one you know she’s been itching to ask. 

“Look. We’ve talked about your career at great length - all but caught up to the night that you became a triple threat. But there’s one person that we haven’t discussed yet, maybe brought up in passing but haven’t broached. Who I think is relevant.” 

You smile. 

“Eren.” 

“Eren.” she repeats, nodding. 

“What do you want to know?” 

“I mean, everything. How did it feel to know that you finally got him back for what he did to you, the way he dragged your career through the mud. I mean you basically had him hanging his head between his knees by the end of the night, after you ended him. Throwing his relationship with his brother in his face, the songs you wrote, I mean- that. That has to be liberating. To do all that and come out as a triple threat at the end.” 

You can feel the tears spilling down your cheeks as you take your last picture out, one of you and Eren at Levi and Hange’s vow renewal. You’re leaning your head on your palm, looking up at him as he smiles down at you. And you swallow the hiccups as you respond. 

“In what world did that night seem liberating to you? Making a joke out of the love I shared with someone? I sobbed my way through the entire last song. Didn’t even make a speech. In what world was that liberating?” 

You see the shock spread across her face. 

“I just thought-” 

You smile. 

“Since we were fifteen, all people have done is speculate about me and Eren. Are we dating? Are we in love? Are we real? Are we faking? And therein lies the issue, because I think the people, the fame - it came between something really real.” 

She stops, nodding. 

“Something real? Are you telling us that Eren Jaeger lied in his interview?” 

“I don’t know his truth. Maybe it was fake for him. But I was there too.....And it was real for me.” 

You look down at the picture, fiddling with it in your hands. 

“I-I’d like to sing my song, if I could. I-I think it’ll help explain how I feel.” you say. 

She nods, gesturing to the piano. You sit at the seat, sneaking out the vinyl sleeve from the inside of the bench and pull it out. The album cover is a picture of the cast from season one of Attack on Titan. You and Eren are front and center, smiling at each other instead of the camera, everyone’s heads going in different directions. Jean and Mikasa are looking at something to the left and pointing, Ymir is smiling at Historia who is disgusted at Connie and Sasha plugging their fingers in each other's nose. 

“This is my fourth and final studio album, called The Lucky One. And this is my first song on the record, called happiness.” 

You brace your hands against the keys, playing the tune into the air as you sing. The feeling sits deep in your chest. Your realization was simple. That Historia’s statement - that your Eren wasn’t the Eren that existed anymore - is true. You just chose to focus on the wrong part of it.

You loved Eren and he made you happy. He burned you down, hurt you in the way that only he knew how, but loved you, made you whole in only the way he could too. There's a deep hurt. 

But there was great happiness. It’s why you forgive him. Why you choose to move forward, and hold whatever love you did have close. 

Past the blood and bruise Past the curses and cries Beyond the terror in the nightfall Haunted by the look in my eyes That would've loved you for a lifetime Leave it all behind And there is happiness

There is happiness In our history Across our great divide There is a glorious sunrise Dappled with the flickers of light From the dress I wore at midnight Leave it all behind Oh, leave it all behind Leave it all behind And there is happiness 

You wipe the tears off of your face as you turn back towards the camera. 

“Eren Jaeger is the love of my life. He’s everything you want in the person you want to spend the rest of your life with and more. He’s kind, he’s sensitive, he’s all too willing to understand you. Too willing to meet you where you are, as you are, and look past all the bad parts of you.” 

You stifle your sob, the tears pouring out of your eyes. You glance back at the picture of you and Eren at the piano. And the memory sticks out in your head. 

“I love you.” 

You look over at Eren, his green eyes gentle and heartfelt as he takes your hand and squeezes three times. 

“Eren, you-” 

“I love you. The three squeezes - that’s what they’ve always meant.” he whispers, his hand warm in yours as me mimics the motion you’ve done a hundred times. 

You swallow hard. 

“Eren Jaeger is the love in the room. He gives people a chance, even when he shouldn’t. He’s supportive, so incessantly adamant about his belief in you, that you believe in yourself too. He loves hard, he loves soft, and everything in between.” 

“He’s the best person I’ve ever met. Until he wasn’t anymore. And I-I don’t know what they did to him. If they pumped him full of drugs, if they told him something about this industry that I’m unaware of, if-if it was something about me. But this Eren Jaeger, so full of love that it was almost spilling out of him, doesn’t exist anymore. He was real. But he’s not like this anymore.” 

You swallow hard. 

“This career, the way we live in our fishbowl. It-it’s so cruel. You all enjoyed watching me ruin him. You all enjoyed watching him ruin me. You liked that we spent our entire lives loving each other and maybe loved it even more when it came crashing down. It was interesting to speculate on, to talk about. You saw the softest love in us. In him. And then gutted it out of him like he was a fish.” 

You take a deep breath. 

“And with that, I quit.” 

The interviewer sits up, hand on your shoulder at the piano bench as the shock spreads across her face. 

“You’re quitting music?” 

“I’m quitting all of it. I don’t want anything to do with this. You already got to have him. You don’t get to have me too.” 

You give her a smile as you turn to the camera, before walking straight off of the set and into the waiting room outside. 

--

You sit on the bench outside, swinging your legs as you watch the people around you move. They’re all rushing to air the tape, which you expected. And making flash copies of the vinyl you gifted them, getting ready to post them online as the interview goes out. 

Figures. 

The only person who comes to your side is Leila. 

“HI.” you say, cheeks burning from the tears and your eyes swollen. 

She hands you the blue box, the one they hid behind the couch at the start, and shakes her head. 

You give her a strange look as you open up the box, filled with a large stack of letters. You reach for the one at the top, opening the pages to find Eren’s messy handwriting scribbled on the pages. 

Dear The Institute (I don’t know if you’re a person or like someone specific I’m just writing a letter to the address Levi gave me),  My name is Eren Jaeger. I’m fifteen, the son of Carla and Grisha Jaeger. I’m going to be in a new show called Attack on TItan. But that’s not why I’m writing to you. I want to tell you about my friend, my best friend.  Her name is Y/N L/N. She’s going to be my co-star in the show. You haven’t heard of her yet but I promise you won’t forget her. And I’ll make sure you won’t. Because I’m telling you now, she’s the next big thing. And you’re going to make her a triple threat.  I’ll spend this entire time convincing you until you do. But she’s amazing. It won’t take much.  You will hear from me again, Eren Jaeger

You pull another page out, opening up the crinkled pages, the block sitting in your throat. 

Hi (Can you tell me your name? It feels weird to call you The Institute. Like that’s almost dystopian.)  It’s Eren, again. Y/N is going to perform her song, New Year’s Day at the award show tomorrow. It’s her first one and it’s perfect. Like genuinely, who the fuck makes a hit song on the first try?  And even after making something great, she’s trying to be better. She doesn’t like to play the piano, but she tries anyway. Every time I try to teach her, she’s hanging on the ends of my words, trying over and over again until she’s satisfied.  She works very hard. I’m asking you to not overlook that.  See you soon (and when’s your birthday? We’re basically becoming friends at this point.)  Eren Jaeger 

You flip the pages, again. 

Good morning/good afternoon/good evening (covering all my bases, I don’t know where you live),  Now, don’t start discrediting what I’m saying as biased because of the rumors.  Granted, they are true. I adore Y/N with my entire heart. I love her with every fiber of my being. But that doesn’t discredit any of her work or how I’m vouching for it. Because she truly is amazing.  Her new movie is coming out on Saturday and her album on Sunday. Quit being assholes and give her this award already.  She deserves it. Really.  My deepest apologies (for calling you assholes and for bothering you all these years),  Eren Jaeger 

And again. 

Hi,  We broke up. And we don’t really talk much anymore. But the fact that I’m still writing this to you should be proof enough for you to at least CONSIDER her as a triple threat.  Like seriously. We aren’t even dating and I’m still raving about her work (because it’s that good).  Her new movie comes out soon.  She is all things great. The sun, the moon, the stars and everything in between. The light in the dark, every cheesy thing you can think of.  Art is a reflection of who you are. And her art has always been the best.  For the love of god, give in already,  Eren Jaeger. 

And the last one, despite being the shortest one, is what hurts the most. Dated for the day after the awards show, what you assume is barely hours after Eren was sobbing during your performance. 

Dear The Institute,  Thank you for listening. And for making her dream come true.  Best,  Eren Jaeger 

You hold the letters close to your chest as you cry into the box, nearly twenty or thirty pages you still haven’t read. Of Eren, his messy handwriting, and his endless love for you. 

His words ring in your mind. They don’t make any sense and none of it does. You didn’t have any faith in me like I did you. Your parents weren’t famous and you had no ins. I have to do something to offset that if you’re my co-star.  I’m not lying to you when I’m trying to make you feel better or tell you that you’re great. Maybe Hange and Levi are, but I’m not. I’ve always thought you were great.

You sit up from the bench and walk out the door with the box in your hand. You find Falco and Colt standing on the curb against the car, soft smiles on their faces as they push you into the car. And take you where no one gets to touch you, suck you dry, push you too hard, take what you love most away from you ever again. 

Your most haunted memory sticks out to you as you drive away. As you feel the physical weight of this life be left behind on that piano and let him go. 

The waves continue to crash, Eren’s hand raking through your fingers as you both look up at the moon, shining above you. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yes, Eren?” 

“Have you ever been skinny dipping?” 

You curl your nose in disgust. 

“When would I have time to go skinny dipping, Eren? And if I did, you would have known.” 

Eren turns on his side, a bright smile on his face. 

“Let’s do it.” 

“What?” 

“Skinny dipping.” 

“Eren. Quit being ridiculous.” 

He rolls his eyes. 

“I just turned twenty-two. Like fifteen minutes ago. I am the pinnacle of seriousness.” he states, putting on his best Erwin-like tone. 

“Eren.” 

“Come on. It’s like a quintessential experience. We don’t get those - prom, memorizing your crush’s classes and waiting outside them, going on a date in the city. Let’s do this one.” 

You nod as you both trudge to the shore, hands locked together as you quickly lose your clothes and run into the water, biting cold against your skin. The Seattle cold does nothing to help, the two of you shivering in each other's arms as you hold each other in the water. 

“Ttt-this was a sss-stuppid idea, Er-rren.” you shiver, glaring at him. 

“It-it’s ff-un.” he responds. 

You groan as he pulls you into his arms, your face flat against his neck as you guys hug in the water. You can feel his heart beating under your ear and you pull back to find him smiling at you, his hair matted against his forehead. You reach forward and push it out of his eyes. 

“Thanks.” he whispers. 

You nod, giving him a smile. He’s all but grinning at you, the smile on his face so big that it’s throwing you off. 

“Eren. What?” 

“Nothing. You.” 

“Me?” 

He nods, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Just trying to remember this moment. You and me - being real people.” 

“You sound like a crazy person.” 

“You’re not a pop star. I’m not an actor. You’re Y/N and I’m Eren. We’re skinny dipping. And I love you.” 

You turn your head to the side, confused by his sentiment all together. 

It makes sense to you now. 

--

Almost a year and a half later and you’re nervously running your sweaty hands against the pleats of your black dress. You half debate walking in, even though you flew all this way. If there’s still a place for you in this townhouse, even though you all but grew up here. 

You can hear a loud chatter on the inside, voices talking over each other as you think hard, every regret of yours running through your mind. You wonder if they replaced you already, if your doppelganger is walking around in there.

As always, this is what brings you back to them. All of them. And you hate it. Because as always, they are the only ones who understand. They are the only ones who feel it too. 

You’re fish. On the same side of the glass, separated from everyone else. 

You supposed that’s what it does to people. That being fish, to some extent, was something everyone related to - not just you and Eren, Mikasa and Jean, everyone else who was famous.

This tears down things that were a resolute fact - bringing you to places you never thought you’d return, to people you didn’t think you would ever need anymore. A fishbowl - separating you from everyone else on one side of the glass, with everyone else - normal and whole - on the outside.

Fame can do that to people. But grief can too.

The news clip rings in your head. 

. 

. 

. 

Marco Bodt, best known for his time as a recurring character in the drama series Attack on Titan, died on Friday, five days short of his twenty-fourth birthday. 

You brace yourself and knock on the door of the townhouse. Eren’s the one who answers.

--

next part linked here

an: lol. so does "passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long" still apply if he's dead....thoughts? also the lucky one tracklist

taglist: @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @cocomellxn @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @squirrelspoetry @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlo l@mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi

[solargeist]

The Watchers in my AU are meant to be complicated and confusing. It’s part of why Grian stays for so long, why he’s so conflicted and why it bothers him to the point of venting to Mumbo.

They can be very kind, they do love him, they compliment him on everything. He gets gifts and everything given to him.

But on the other hand, bc they love him, they can be critical, telling him why that and why this, not that not this, they have pretty high standards for Beings that have seen everything already, not easy to genuinely impress.

They give him food, as parental figures should, anything he asks, but that’s sorta the problem, he always has to ask, there’s no way around this, no independence. He can ask for ingredients to cook by himself, but they’ll watch him.

He’s given clothes to wear, always within Watcher standard, dark and loose garments, open for his wings. He’d honestly prefer brighter colours, but that’s not rly a choice.

They tell him he’s special, he was chosen, better than the rest, a champion, a hero, and while it pets his ego, he feels pressure, they went out on a limp for him and he still can’t do enough. There is so much guilt.

Being here in the end messes with his psyche a bit, he’s much shorter than everyone, he has to rely on everyone, they all treat him like a kid, petting his hair or moving him via his shoulders instead of asking. He accidentally leans into this sometimes as a subconscious coping mechanism, he cries easier than he thinks he should. Tantrums where he has to press his face into his hands, or grumble and stomp off. He always has to apologize.

Despite being treated like a child, he is a Watcher child, so he studies a lot, he trains a lot. If he throws up from training, that’s no excuse (well by Flora’s standards)

He does feel a sort of comfort or safety around Aether, She’s lenient with him, but they’re definitely still not equals. She still hides things from him She thinks is too serious, She’s still overtly positive. He thinks abt Her sometimes, in hindsight he knows it was a family dynamic, and he feels guilt abt this too.

The Watchers love him, but they are ultimately overbearing, overwhelming, and frankly quite scary if you don’t play by their rules. Grian has reason to be cautious, the silent threats that hang over his head, never directly said to him, but traitors are cast out, if you’re not worthy you don’t deserve these gifts of wings or eyes. I think he’s convinced if they ever find him they’ll rip his eyes out with talons.

He won’t admit that he likes the attention sometimes, when his efforts are acknowledged and/or praised, when his hair is brushed. He wants their approval.

However, this is the only ‘human’ contact he gets. He doesn’t have anyone else, so it’s taken with a grain of salt how genuine his feelings are abt the attention.

[oldhalloweentape]

🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️

(ALT/Goth, Mostly Goth Leaning Edition!)

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Another request by @goohts , such a great supporter throughout all of this! On top of that, I have something to announce at the end of this post!)

- Right off the bat, such a great dynamic, when they first saw you they immediately went to introduce themselves— Compliment after compliment spilling from their lips.

- Asks you sooo many questions on how you decided on going for that style, means well of course, just wants to know the importance of it you as a person.

- If you’re a goth in particular? They definitely refer a whole lot to the extinct culture of the Goths, you know— The Germanic ones that wrecked the Western Roman Empire with extreme brutality and were the cause of medieval Europe emerging.

- Starts learning about the culture and history of your group so they can talk about something you like and is a part of your life.

- Dance moves? Learnt some of them so they can look “cool” at the Goth club with you, like that one video of that nerdy guy with the quarter that moves up and down like he’s on one of those kiddy revolving horses, (here) it’s a bit silly but it’s heartwarming nonetheless.

- Anyways, if you’re taller, shorter, or the same height, they can and will borrow some of your accessories/clothing. Cheeky about it too, as they show off what they borrowed as proof of them dating you, especially to Mauga.

- Can and will buy you things as a thank you for letting them borrow your stuff, likes buying stuff like that at a thrift store— That kind of stuff has personality to them.

- Piercings? They have one as well so I think they’d be giddy to show off the various extra piercings they have in this ornate jewelry box their Abuela gave Sloane specifically for them.

- Tattoos? I think we already know the answer to this one, so proud of their own and will admire yours, asking more questions as they ask whether or not yours has meaning behind them as they touch the inked skin.

- If you ask, they’d be up for getting some more alongside you, maybe even buy some extra piercings for you, goes in tandem with their love language of quality time and gift giving.

- All the while chattering about the history about both, they’re just so giddy and supportive.

- Will help and encourage you to indulge in dark facts about history if you’re into that, feed into it as they take you to a morbid museum of some sort as a date, only if you let them go to a dinosaur one afterwards.

- If you do makeup, they will be astonished by it and practically beg for you to do theirs.

- Can’t handle standing still for too long (firm ADHD Venture believer) but will accept kisses in between as a consolation prize for doing so. On top of watching an analysis video on rock formations, if it’s good they’ll be almost as transfixed as they are when they look at you.

- Once it’s done, there is a high chance of them coming back, makeup smeared or dirty and begging for you to do it again, will use the puppy eyes and the pouting lip tactic.

- Loves when you have your makeup on, thinks so cool and interesting on you, but they also love messing it up, if you catch my drift.

- I can just imagine after a particularly long time of Venture being away cause of their job, with a mix of smeared makeup on your faces after a making out, a smug grin on their face as they say something like, “Aw did you really miss me that much?”

- Boastful as all hell when it comes to the fact that, them a goofy ass archeologist was able to bag someone like you.

- Brags about you a lot whenever you come up in conversation and jumps at the chance of taking you to their job so they show you off.

- Introducing you to other people usually goes like this, “Yeah this is Reader, my partner— Looks absolutely amazing don’t they?” All the while holding the side of your waist with one arm with a self satisfied look on their face.

(Alright!!! So, after a bit of consideration I’m going to start writing for a character from Overwatch that I’ve really liked for years now, Junkrat! I like them dirty Ig lol.)

[pimosworld]

The story of us- Final Chapter

Pairing-Triple Frontier boys x f!reader

Chapter summary-The boys find a way to make your birthday very special.

CW-18+, Angst,Fluff,lots of fluff, tears but happy tears.

WK-5k

A/N- This is my first completed series so I’m very proud of myself for that accomplishment. I’m not saying goodbye to this group so please be on the lookout for future stories involving them as their relationship progresses. Thanks for sticking around 🤍 all of you.

[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Final chapter-It’s my party

“Come in officers.” You don’t skip a beat as you move aside to let the two men enter your home. Your training won’t allow you to let on that your heart is beating a mile a minute.

  You gesture them over to your dining room table to have a seat. Of course the couch feels more personal and you don’t want them to be comfortable. The more comfortable they are, the longer they’ll stay. You want to be able to sit with your nervous legs concealed under a table versus on display for them to judge your movements. 

  They likely know as much as they can about you. Your military background and a basic knowledge of your schooling and home life. What they likely don’t know is you are no basic militant soldier and you’ve had them clocked since they stepped through the threshold of your home. 

  Any form of torture or interrogation you’ve been through will make this look like child’s play. 

  You have a seat at the head of the table facing the door. Not offering them something to drink was another tactic in making sure they were uncomfortable enough to make this quick. 

  “We just want to ask you a few questions regarding your boyfriend Michael’s disappearance.”

  “Ex.” The officer who couldn’t keep his eyes away from the low cut neckline of your tank top looks up at you finally. “Sorry to interrupt but we broke up weeks ago.” 

  “Well that would explain why one of his coworkers reported him missing and not you.” Officer Williams seems to be offering up information you don’t necessarily need but could definitely be used to your benefit. “She seemed to be under the impression you two were still together.” 

  “We got into a pretty big argument and I asked him to leave. He hadn’t been acting himself lately and he didn’t really react well to my questioning his odd behavior.” You hold his eye contact as he waits for you to continue. “I have a box of his things that he never came to get if you want to take a look.” 

  He perks up at that and you stand to head out of the kitchen towards your bedroom. You don’t miss the way the other officer watches you walk clearly not having any sense of decorum about him. 

  You linger in the hallway a moment listening to their hushed voices. “She doesn’t know anything, let's just go.” 

  “I know but I need to go through the routine.” He says through gritted teeth. 

  Your leaving gave you a moment to breathe and come up with some idea of what you were going to say when they inevitably brought up the boys. 

  You set the box down in front of the shorter officer and he goes for it like a kid being handed a toy to keep himself busy. Leaving you with the one who had some semblance of professionalism. 

  He tilts his head towards the ornate bouquets on your countertop. “Those all for you? You must be a lucky woman.” 

  “Oh my friends spoil me, they dropped those off earlier.” Not entirely a lie.

  “What’s the occasion if you don’t mind me asking?” I do mind actually.

  “It’s my birthday in a few days.” The mention of your birthday makes you wonder if you would even be able to see them or know what’s going on. 

  The other officer seems bored of looking through the box of his random assortment of clothes and paperwork that he left as he slides it forward. 

  “I don’t really see anything in here but I’d like to take it off your hands if you don’t mind?” You throw your hands up and he tucks the box under his arm as he stands seemingly ready to go. 

  “Well officer Williams and I should be getting out of your hair.” He offers a tight lipped smile at his partner who doesn’t manage to disguise his eye roll from you. 

  You’re torn between acting like you don’t care about his disappearance and not wanting to come off like you care too much about your ex boyfriend. It would be a little suspicious even without evidence that you’re involved that you could care less about someone you spent over six months with. Truthfully you’re relieved. 

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t offer you any more information.” They wave you off in your attempt to sound concerned. 

  “It’s probably for the best since he was involved in some pretty shady business dealings.” The more competent of the two turns around to hand you his card. “I’m sure you’re more than capable of handling yourself, but if anyone comes around here giving you trouble or asking questions about him you give me a call.” His wink suggests something else and now you’ve all but written off these two idiots, who are no doubt on a wild good chase. 

  “Those your delta buddies?” The other officer gestures to their photo on the wall with you strategically placed in the middle. 

  Annoyed at pointing out the obvious but forced to bite back a smart retort. “Yes, that was taken shortly after I joined.” 

  “Well I’m sure you could call on one of them if you run into any trouble.” They chuckled to themselves as they stepped out into your front porch. 

  You have no idea 

  ****

  Will closes the laptop just after you close your front door. He runs his hands through his hair as he stares up at the ceiling, breathing a sigh of relief. It’s done

  Santiago’s idea to purposely leave you in the dark offered you the chance to have a genuine interaction should the cops show up. Which they assumed they would since you were his most recent relationship. 

  Ben’s already left from the table, no doubt to start packing his bags because he knew once the cops left they were going to head home. Ben may have worn his heart on his sleeve but they were all holding on by a thread not being able to talk to you or see you in person. 

  The little glimpses of you they got through the camera only served as a means of torture. Watching you do the most menial task in the kitchen while dancing or kicking your feet on the couch when the book your reading gets interesting. They want to be there for those things everyday. 

  Someday

  The next mission, which they had days to plan out being holed up in the safe house was orchestrating your birthday. You always told them not to make a big deal about it. Just being with you boys is allI want. 

  They skated on that for too long. You deserved more for your birthday than the normal hang out at the bar in your usual spot. You are a big deal so they should make you feel like one. Especially if they were going to show you how committed they are. 

  Everyone had their specific tasks tailored to their skill level and you’d be a fool to think each of them weren’t going to treat this like the most important thing they’ve ever done. 

  All doubts about their relationship or what people would think were out the window before they even stepped foot into the safe house. 

  If they were willing to travel to another country and steal a drug lord's money, they could just as easily tell society to fuck off when it comes to you.

  ****

  You haven’t slept that well in a long time. Some may find it odd after being questioned by the police, but Mike being gone puts you at ease. Knowing whatever happened to him was not by accident and whatever they did, it was for you. 

  You were completely ruined for any other man when you stepped foot into their lives. It’s a shame it’s taken you this long to notice because you’ve wasted so much time. 

  Your relationships with each of them over the years have developed into something you can’t live without. You couldn’t put your finger on why your brain wouldn’t allow you to look at any one of them as just a friend. It made things difficult when your lives were on the line so you shoved it down deep somewhere to hide away and never resurface. Until Tom passed away and all those feelings came flooding back and instead of embracing it, you ran head first in the wrong direction. 

  It’s a little sick and twisted but you really have your ex to thank for pushing them back into your life and making all of you open your eyes up to see the most perfect thing was already happening right in front of you. 

  You're thankful you have work to keep you busy today. You know it’s highly likely they’ll be coming home from wherever they are and you don’t want to sit by your phone all day waiting for a call or text. 

  You hop in your shower letting the hot water (scalding) as Frankie would put it cascade over you. Washing the last few weeks away, the steam is opening up your lungs and you feel like you can breathe for the first time in a long time. You nearly choke on it as you hear your phone ping from the counter. Almost breaking your neck and towel rack in the process of jumping out to read your text. 

  Benjamin: I'll be seeing you this week honey

                                          When

Benjamin:😘

  You stand their half naked soaking the mat beneath you as you wait for a response. You look up and see your blurry reflection in the mirror and get a sneaky idea. Your hands brush quickly over the mirror streaking the glass but revealing you just enough. You pull the towel up slightly before you bite your lip and snap a photo. 

  Image 

               Benjamin: Sweetheart you’re killing me. 

                    Benjamin: I’ll see you on Wednesday 

 

  ****

  Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. Thankfully you weren’t assigned to the ER today so you had time to rush home and shower, unsure of when Ben would be showing up or if he was planning on staying.

  You put on your  favorite leggings that hugged your curves perfectly and your old army tee shirt. After giving yourself a once over in front of the floor length mirror you dabbed on some new perfume that you treated yourself to for your birthday. 

  The doorbell rings and you try not to sprint to the door as you shuffle through your hallway, taking a slow deep breath before opening it.

  Your legs nearly buckle at the sight of Ben on your porch, looking the most nervous you’ve ever seen him. He’s shakily holding a piece of canvas paper in his hands as he sways back and forth. He has a blue polo on to match his eyes and a pair of tan slacks. His hair is combed back out of his face and he looks so handsome you could cry. 

  “I missed you.” He breathes out like it’s the first time his lungs have had air in weeks. 

  You can’t help yourself when you launch into his arms and he clings to you like his life depends on it. 

It feels like an eternity as you stand on your front porch just holding him, breathing in his scent. A new cologne you don’t recognize that washes over you. 

  “Oh shit the paper.” He reluctantly lets you go to smooth out the paper he dropped on the ground as you try to glance at it and he holds it back from you with a wink. 

  “What’s that?” You gesture towards it as he skims it over again like he’s reciting lines. 

  “It’s an itinerary.” He smiles at you then and your heart can’t take how much you’ve truly missed him. 

  You step aside awkwardly to let him in but he doesn’t move from his spot on the porch. “Are you coming in?” 

  “I’m not supposed to.” He sounds a little defeated as he says it which causes even more confusion for you. “Read the itinerary and leave…”

  “Oh so you’re here on strict orders?” You’re hoping the teasing will ease some of this tension. “So read it to me.” You step further into the house far enough away that he would have to follow. 

  “You think you’re slick?” You nod your head as you sit down on the couch with your legs tucked under you. 

  He mumbles something under his breath about getting in trouble as he sits next to you. “There will be a special delivery here, when you get off work tomorrow.” 

  “What..”

  “Obviously I can’t tell you what it is or that would ruin the surprise. Just be here to sign for it at 7.” He shifts a little on the couch so he’s facing you. 

  “Friday Maria is taking you to do some kind of spa day.” His emphasis on spa has you laughing. 

  Santiago’s sister Maria was always your number one fan. She was the woman you could confide in when you were constantly surrounded by men who just didn’t understand. You know she always secretly hoped you’d end up with Santi but you’re sure she has no idea what’s actually going on. She just recently moved closer to Santi after her divorce and you feel a little guilty for not having reached out sooner. You didn’t want to burden her with your own issues when she was just getting her life back together.

  “Saturday at seven a limo will arrive to pick you up and take you to a separate location for dinner.” He sets the paper face down on the coffee table and smooths his hands along his slacks. 

  “Ben, the first rule of kidnapping is never let them take you to a second location.” 

  “Don’t worry sweetheart, you can trust the driver.” He winks at you again and if he doesn’t stop you're going to have to glue his eye shut. 

  “So…I guess you have to go now right?” 

  “Ya…I should go.” Ben doesn’t move as he watches you fidget with a run on the couch thread. 

  His hand reaches out to still your movements and you finally look at him. It’s been so long since he took you on that date and by the way you’re looking at him it would be so easy to just walk you down your hallway. To the bedroom he’s been in so many times to simply sleep. He could cave like Santiago and you would let him. 

  He leans in, pressing you back against the headrest of the couch. His face is just inches from yours as you close your eyes. His fingers trace the outline of your bottom lip and then trail down your neck as he cups the back of your head and finally presses his lips to yours. It’s soft and slow, like you're just breathing each other in. He tastes like mint with a hint of your cherry lip balm that you left in his car ages ago. 

  He pulls away reluctantly and rests his forehead against yours. “I promise after Saturday, we won’t have to keep stopping this short.” 

  You groaned under your breath. “I don’t know what that means.” 

  He kisses your forehead and stands from the couch, pulling you with him. Without your shoes on it feels like he towers over you. You wrap your arms around him one last time, burying your face in his chest. 

  “You’ll know what it means soon enough hon’.”

  ****

  Texting the boys to find out what your special delivery was of course yielded no results. You resigned yourself to guessing throughout your work day as to what it might be. 

  Your house couldn’t possibly hold any more flower arrangements and you don’t think they would get you a pet. Or would they? You don’t think they would do something that rash for your birthday, but then again Mike was nowhere to be found and that wasn’t of his own doing. 

  You make it home just in time to make yourself a quick dinner, grilled cheese and tomato soup one of your favorites. You’re hardly paying attention to the show you put on when the doorbell rings. You bolt up from the couch and open the door hoping to see one of the boys. 

  A beautiful woman in a crisp black suit is standing next to a rack with black garment bags lined along it. 

  You look down briefly at your shorts and oversized shirt. You’re two for two opening the door to some very well dressed individuals, while in your lounge clothes. 

  I have a delivery, I’ll need you to sign off as she says your name. She hands you a small pad to sign and you politely step aside as she wheels it into your home. 

  ��Is there anywhere in particular you’d like me to place this?” 

  “There is fine, thank you.” You haven’t torn your eyes from the rack as you try to decipher what’s inside.

  She offers you a courteous smile as she exits through the front door. You stand there briefly as you watch her walk to a sleek black delivery van and drive away. 

  You slam the door and push the rack to your bedroom so fast you almost knock it over. It’s safe to assume it’s clothing so you strip down to your panties and fish your nice bra out of your top dresser drawer. 

  The sound of the zipper and rustling fabric is all you can hear over the sound of your rapid breaths. Your hands are shaking with excitement as you open the first bag to reveal a navy blue satin dress. You take it off the hanger and notice the intricate straps on the back, opting to forgo those and just step into it. 

  You pull the thin straps over your shoulder as you look at yourself in the large mirror in your bedroom. It’s been a while since you got really dressed up, and despite your unkempt hair and no makeup you feel so beautiful in it. 

  You smooth your hands down the silky fabric and straighten up a little. 

  You look good

  Your excitement starts to build as you quickly realize you have several more items to try on. You delicately extract yourself from this dress so as to not damage it. There’s one way you get to keep all of these so you need to treat them very carefully until you decide what you’re wearing. 

  The next dress is a burnt orange color with a velvety smooth fabric. You brush your thumb across it reveling in the way it feels, knowing how good it will feel in your skin. 

  It is decidedly less difficult than the first and stretchy enough that you can pull it over your head. It has thicker straps and a slit going up your left thigh. The first dress was beautiful but this is leading so far. 

  You set his dress on the hanger and put it in your closet before moving on to the next. 

  The next is a bright yellow strapless dress. The fabric is chiffon and it’s so far the most revealing thing you could possibly own. It’s stunning when you pull it out but you’re also wondering how exactly you're going to zip this. It’s sort of origami on the top and has a train which you love. 

  You zip it as far as you can by yourself and even with it slightly agape in the back the boning in the bodice is cinching you in. You round your shoulders back with your hands on your hips as you marvel at the image before you. Part of you wanted to take a picture of each one and send it but now you’re certain they want this to be a surprise. 

  If picking the best of four was going to be your future you were going to have to get really good at making diplomatic decisions. 

  The final garment bag has a note attached to the top. 

  We know you’ll look beautiful in any of these but please pick your favorite to wear on your birthday. Don’t be worried about the weather or being in front of a crowd when making your decision. 

  As if they could read your mind. They know you might think twice about wearing a few of them in public and the humidity at times could be unbearable even with nothing on.

  They are all yours to keep. Happy Birthday Honey. 

  You feverishly wipe your eyes and set the note down on your bed. 

  The final garment bag reveals a sparkling red dress. You walk backwards as you pull it out and the layers of fabric trail behind it. You hold it up to your chest in the mirror and try your best to compose yourself. It’s all so overwhelming and exhilarating all at once. 

  You're careful with the straps as you step into the dress. They might as well be non-existent with how thin they are. The sweetheart neckline is doing wonders for your chest and the silhouette billows out into an A line skirt. You do a twirl in the mirror as the fabric rustles the ground. You feel like a princess in this dress and you find yourself staring for far longer than you want to. 

  You glance around looking for your phone, remembering you left it in the living room. You traipse through the house in your dress and find it sitting on the arm of the couch. It’s been over an hour. A text from Santi not long ago is your only notification. 

  Santiago: What ya doing cariño 

  You type out a quick reply and wait until you see those three dots. 

                          Playing dress up

  Santiago: How is it going

                            Very well

  Santiago: Which one are you wearing now

                            You know I can’t tell you

  Santiago: It’s the red one

                            Goodnight Santiago

  Santiago: Goodnight cariño 

  ****

  You're nervously pacing your living room, waiting for Maria to arrive. You haven’t seen her since the wedding and that marriage fell apart faster than it was conceived. You’re embarrassed that you haven’t reached out to see how she’s doing but Colombia happened around the same time and you both took a step back. Days turned into weeks turned into months and neither of you knew where to pick up again. 

  Your doorbell rings ripping you from your thoughts as you take a deep breath for the third time this week and answer the door. 

  Her back is to you, admiring the flowers on your trellis when you open the door. She turns to you with that same blank expression that Santiago has all but perfected. The tears brimming her eyes give way to the demeanor she’s clinging to. 

  Much like Santiago it doesn’t take much for her to break as she steps forward and pulls you into her arms. You can hardly understand each other as you mumble apologies through tears and a little bit of her hair is in your mouth as you cling to her. It’s sloppy and messy and you love it. You missed her so much and the relief washes over you at the realization that she missed you just as much. 

  “I think we both need this today.” She leans back and frames your face with her hands, wiping your tears with her thumbs. “Are you ready to be pampered?” 

  You nod, still too overwhelmed to speak without choking back tears. 

  “Okay Honey let’s go.”

  ****

  You’re thankful they booked you a couples massage. The thought of being alone right now after spending such a great day with your friend was paralyzing. 

  She had a lot of questions for you about your life over the last few years. You didn’t have a lot of answers for her but you did your best to put her at ease. 

  You're lying side by side on separate tables as two strangers try to rub years of stress and worry out of your sore muscles. It’s comfortably quiet for some time as you take in the tranquil white noise and smell the lavender and eucalyptus in the room. 

  “I’m glad you guys finally figured it out.” Her voice is slightly muffled with her head down on the massage table. You don’t know if she’s referring to Santi or if she even knows half of what’s going on. “I just have one question for you.” 

  “Sure…ask me anything.” 

  “Do you know what you’re doing?” You think for a moment at the weight of her question. You turn your head on its side so she can hear you clearly before answering. 

  “Not a clue.” 

  She turns her head to you and smiles. “Good…people who know what they’re doing scare me.” 

  You both laugh and she reaches out to lock her finger with yours as they dangle between the two tables. 

  ****

  You stare at yourself for the second time this week in this beautiful dress. It was perfect for whatever tonight had in store. 

  It’s five till and you're anxiously awaiting your ride as you stand by the door placing the strappy heels on your feet. 

  For the first time all week, you hear a light knock instead of the doorbell. When you open it you’re met with Frankie dressed in a tight black button down and black slacks. His hair is on display which you assume has some kind of product or gel. His brown curls frame his face perfectly as he smiles down at you. 

  He leans in, placing a kiss on your cheek. “You look…beautiful.”

  “You don’t look too bad yourself Morales.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment even though you didn’t pick my dress.” He takes your hand as you  step out onto the front porch. You turn around but he’s already got his spare key in hand, locking up behind you. 

  “You’ll just have to take me somewhere I can wear it.” 

  “That can be arranged.” He helps you down the steps as a long black limousine comes into view in front of your driveway. He opens the door for you and helps you slide in before he starts to close it. 

  “What are you doing?” 

  “Someone has to drive hermosa.” He closes the door, shrouding you in darkness until the car starts up and the back seats are lined with soft yellow lights. 

  This is by far the most extravagant display of affection and attention they’ve ever paid to your birthday. Every year you’d spent together you told them you simply just wanted to enjoy their company. 

  It didn’t bother you that you always went a little too hard on their birthdays because that’s how you show love. You think this may be their way of making up for doing just the bare minimum and then some. 

  It’s hard to tell where you're going with the sun having set and the dark tint of the windows. It’s not until you pull up to the airfield where Frankie works that you recognize your surroundings. 

  Coming into view is an open hanger with the boys standing in front. It’s a beautiful sight seeing them all standing there…waiting for you. Santi and Ben are talking to each other as Will stares down at a small piece of paper. 

  Frankie heads over to them before opening your door. Santiago looks at him and grins as he makes his way over. He has the most adoration in his eyes as he opens the door for you. 

  “Fuck…you look beautiful.” 

  He holds his hand out for you as you try to swallow the lump in your throat. Ben lets out a low whistle as you exit the car. You’ve been in hostage situations less nerve wracking than this moment. 

  They lead you to the open hanger and you’re taken aback at the romantic set up. A singular plane in the background.White roses and candles line the table set up for five. 

  “So…how did we do?” Frankie’s deep baritone voice settles into your bones as his hand rests against your back. 

  How do you tell them it’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever done for you? How do you tell them you’ve been waiting for this moment longer than you’d care to admit? 

  You turn to him then as he sees the tears in your eyes. 

  “Please don’t cry.” 

  “Don’t worry they’re happy tears.” You laugh as he wipes your cheeks. 

  Frankie pulls up a chair behind you and you sit as he goes to stand by the other three. 

  Will digs into his pocket and pulls out the piece of paper he was reading when you arrived. He opens it and folds it back quickly. 

  “I was going to read some things we all wrote down, but it doesn’t sound right anymore.” He pauses briefly as the others stare in confusion. “I’m sick of listing out reasons why this works. I can’t explain in words how I feel…how we feel about you.”

  “You’re doing great.” The sarcasm dripping from Benny’s voice has you chuckle. 

  You’re glad Will seems just as nervous as you are. He was always the one who had a way with words and now here he is unable to form a coherent thought. 

  “All I’m saying is, we want you to give whatever this is between us a chance. Life feels so much better with you in it everyday.”

  You can hear yourself saying yes before he even finishes what he’s said.

  “Did you expect me to say anything other than yes.” 

  “I don’t know sweetheart, I’ve never done anything like this before.” Ben claps his brother on the shoulder as they all surround you. 

  “So…what do we do now?” 

  Santi leans in and kisses your cheek. 

  “We have our first date.” 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

The dresses

The birthday

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[kailoraurelius]

You guys have been so kind and enthusiastic in this word game we've been playing and so patient waiting for a new chapter. 🙏 Thank you so much for it all. And I'd like to give you a little gift!

I was looking through my WIPs to answer some of the word game prompts and I found my first draft from Beca and Chloe's first kiss in Stained Glass!! it was originally supposed to happen as part of Chapter 6—the scene where Chloe's just gotten out of the tub and she is in Beca's room, talking about if they're going to be okay with kissing each other. This was if they'd gone for it instead of Chloe deflecting and laughing it off. I ended up scrapping it and putting the kiss in later because it felt too early. But the actual moment of the kiss should read familiar because I kept that part for what I published! And the rest of this scene was piecemealed into the rest of the story or other stories over time. So thank you all again, I hope you enjoy this little behind-the-scenes!

But then Beca moves and all of that is gone too. Because Beca is kissing her. It’s soft, barely a brushing of lips, just a whisper of breath on her skin, and Beca rocks back on her heels, rolling her lips together. “Sorry,” she says. “I was gonna answer your question but then I just thought, sack up, dude, and—” Chloe doesn’t remember what her question even was. “It’s—it’s okay, Becs. Stop rambling.” She reaches out, catching Beca’s shoulders with her hooked wrists, possibly to keep her from running away. Because the ground feels a little unsteady right now and she knows Beca doesn’t do unsteady—she’s the most steady person Chloe knows. So she holds onto her and shoves down those butterflies in her chest, clearing her throat. “That was good. Sweet. Thank you?” She doesn’t mean for that last part to sound like a question, but it does and Beca snorts. “You’re welcome, I guess?” She closes one eye, tilting her head and baring her teeth. “Though I don’t think you should thank me after every kiss. Your family will definitely think it’s weird.” She’s joking and the knot in Chloe’s throat loosens. If she’s joking about it, she’s fine. It’s not weird. They can do this and still be best friends when it’s over. A few kisses here and there and they’ll be fine. “Okay, well. We should...try again. I mean—” She rocks Beca’s shoulders back and forth once. “It’s got to seem natural, comfortable, you know?” “Right. Was that not—” “Oh!” Chloe seizes Beca’s cheeks, feeling her earrings pressing against her pinkies. “No, no, that was great! That was very natural and I felt very comfortable. Thank you.” Beca’s fingers wrap around her wrists, tugging her hands down a bit so that they rest on either side of her neck. “Stop thanking me for kissing you. It’s weird, dude.” Chloe laughs. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’ll try to stop. But, um.” She winks dramatically. “Just in case, we should try again.” “Okay, Beale,” Beca says, eyes narrowing. “I think you might be taking advantage a bit. I mean, I know I’m hot but I ain’t easy, okay? I don’t just give out kisses.” “Oh, so I need to work for it?” And this is simple. Chloe knows how to playfully flirt with Beca. She’s been doing it practically since they met. And Beca’s quick to flirt right back when she’s in the mood to and it’s just their way of communicating sometimes. It’s not weird or different at all. One kiss hasn’t changed anything. Two shouldn’t either. Beca bites her lip, sucking in a breath. “I don’t know. Maybe if I was promised one of your amazing Beale breakfasts tomorrow I’d feel more giving.” And it’s so easy, too easy, to slide right into Beca’s space, looping her arms around the shorter girl’s shoulders. “I can promise that.” “Oh, well then—” Beca’s shoulders flex under her arms and Chloe can picture her fists clenching at her sides. And maybe it’s a little too easy, but Chloe doesn’t focus on that. Beca’s lips press against hers and stay there this time. They’re soft and slide along Chloe’s painfully slow as Beca tilts her head. It’s a weird thing to know about her best friend—that Beca kisses with slightly parted lips, that she breathes in through her nose as she changes the angle of the kiss, that the muscles in her shoulders jump a little when Chloe presses back. That she leaves a hint of her favorite little caramel candies on Chloe’s lips when she pulls away. It’s chaste, just a pressing of lips and Chloe’s arms around Beca’s neck. But she thinks—idly, as she leans back—that she’d rank it as one of her best first (second) kisses of all time. “Better?” It almost sounds like Beca’s voice wavers, but Chloe can’t be certain because she’s still not sure the room isn’t shifting a little. “Much,” she says, opening her eyes to find Beca smirking at her. She loves that stupid smirk, but she loves wiping it off her face so much more. So she slips out of Beca’s grasp and backs up to the door. “But next time, we should totally use tongue.” Beca’s ears go red all over again and Chloe laughs, pulling the door open and slipping out just as Beca snaps, “Chloe!”

And there it is! What could have been!

[west-brooke]

Can you expand more on what would’ve happened if Leo/Mikey/Raph had been the ones to end up being taken by the brother Kraang? I love your work and I’m sorry to hear about your writers block! Hope this helps! ❤️

For sure! Thank you for the ask! I’m not surprised those concepts caught on lol so I think I’ll probably go into some more details on 1) the ideas of what would happen and 2) why I’m writing new hardware with Donnie and not one of the other bros lmao

Putting some of this beneath a cut bc this one’s gonna be LONG.

The Tear AU

In an AU where Leo is taken instead of Donnie, the Krang would have to work fast. Donnie has a tracker on Leo, and even if the tracker is taken out of him at some point, it would at least give the others a much smaller area they have to search. However, Leo’s use of portals would be able to help in this, since the ability to get Krang matter wherever and whenever the Krang wants could give them a huge advantage. It would probably be a much shorter story, since the turtles have a very limited amount of time to stop The Tear and the Brother before things just get absolutely out of hand, but they’ll be able to actually get there to deal with the issues and start fighting relatively quickly. Leo probably isn’t super conscious while any of this is going on, since even though he’s good at strategizing, the Krang probably wouldn’t see much virtue in Leo keeping his capacity for thought and just use him as a portal generator.

The Guard AU

Sorry Raph ily but this would be the least fun for me to write I think lol. You definitely CAN make the “Raph gets krangified again” plot work, but it’s not something I personally wanna dedicate too much headspace too. The whole of the movie was basically this plot, and it would mostly be Raph and the Brother trying to free the other Krang, get the key, all of that stuff. There could definitely be some fun angst of maybe with him critically injuring a member of his family, but most of what can be done here has already been done. There also wouldn’t be much of Raph fighting back bc the Brother Krang (or at least my idea of him) would just kinda. Turn off his brain since it’s not really useful to him.

The Battery AU

In the case of Mikey being captured, it’s probably the most interesting out of the three for me. Most likely how the plot would play out is that Michelangelo is captured, and the Krang probes his memory to find out about the bad future and decides to try and use that power. He brings Mikey back to his den and then there, uses Mikey’s powers to tear open a doorway to the bad dimension and to try and bring the successful Krang and their army in through the portal. Mikey either breaks out or is rescued at that point, and the rest of the story is focused on the brothers fighting off the Krang from the alternate dimension. Mikey being injured in some sort of way from having to use that power is definitely a possibility and some good angst too.

The way New Hardware works and the trope it plays off for me is the idea of the “smart guy” (Donnie, in this case) and what would actually happen in a way if they were removed from a plot. Over and over again in rottmnt and in other media, things can only “get started” once the characters have information to go on, either by convenience or by getting it from somewhere. Characters like Donatello are catalysts in the literal definition, speeding up the process of the plot by getting characters the information they need to go start kicking butt or getting into the action and all that.

Think about the movie, and think about what would have happened if Donnie wasn’t there, if he hadn’t implanted the trackers in anyone. It’s brushed over and then played as a joke that those trackers are there, but the fact it’s brushed over is just an example of how important those characters are to a narrative. They didn’t have to look for Raph that much, they just knew where he was and could focus their attention of fighting the bad guys to get to him instead.

The point of New Hardware is 1) because Donnie is my favorite character and unfortunately for him that means I like giving him angst and 2) to show what would realistically happen in a worst case scenario when characters don’t have that convenient information to go off of anymore. Information is a type power as people say, and without Donnie on their side, they’re at a big disadvantage when it comes to intel.

[kokinu09]

can you write me a felix apocalypse fic 🤔

running ‘til the end

word count : 2083

A/N : Thanks keeps, new series unlocked 😂

trigger warnings : none yet

~~*~~

The bowstring is pulled taut beside his ear, aimed directly at the grazing doe a few yards away. Felix keeps his breathing steady, eyes sharp on his target.

He can’t let the potential meal get away this time. Hunger gnawing at his insides from just the thought of finally getting to eat something substantial.

The air is quiet around him. Only the sounds of nature filling the silence. The slight breeze rustling the leaves and overgrown grass, the occasional chirp of a passing bird, the snap of a nearby twig—

The doe’s head whips up before she darts away to disappear in the wild brush.

“Wha—! No!” He quietly curses, forced to lower his bow as he watches his prey completely vanish in the overgrowth. His teeth grit in anger, eyes sweeping the area to find the source of what started the deer instead.

Some rustling catches his attention at the edge of a tree line not far across from him, reflexively raising his bow in defense towards the presence. He half expected to see an undead monster stumbling into the clearing. But, to his surprise, he sees two boys looking to be around his age carelessly bickering as they come out into the open.

“How could you possibly think that was a good idea!” The shorter of the two huffs, cheeks puffing out like a rodent’s full of food as he stumbles trying to keep up.

“You’re just mad you weren’t the one to think of it,” The taller, more slender boy quips. His movements smooth and graceful as he easily maneuvered through the leaves and branches.

“Excuse me?! You think I wanted to nearly break my neck from that jump?!”

“Don’t be dramatic. It wasn’t even that hi—”

Felix stands, making himself known with his bow drawn, deciding enough is enough. If these trespassers keep it up, they’ll scare every animal in the area so far away, he’d have to cross the border to catch them. Or attract the unwanted attention of a hoard of brainless monsters that would kill them all anyway.

The tall one spots him almost immediately, cutting himself off when his movement catches the corner of his eye. He freezes and his friend bumps unceremoniously into the back of him.

“H-hey! Why’d you stop—” When the other boy finally lifts his head to look around, his spine stiffens too, eyes blown wide with panic.

Felix tightens the bowstring a fraction more, prepared to pierce them through the heart if they even so much as move too quickly. “You should go back the way you came,” he tells them firmly.

Both boys have their hands raised in surrender. “Y-yeah! W-we definitely will do that!” The cheeky boy laughs nervously, elbowing his friend. “Hyunjin, let’s go,” he urges through gritted teeth.

“No, we can’t,” the tall boy hisses right back, not looking away from the arrow pointed straight at them.

“What do you mean?! We’ll find another way! But we can’t die here!”

“We’ll all die anyway if we turn back.”

Felix isn’t sure if they realize that he can hear their little quarrel, or maybe they don’t really care if he does. But his curiosity is peaked nonetheless.

“What do you mean by that?” He asks the two strangers and when he gets startled looks from both of them he clarifies. “‘We’ll all die anyway if we turn back.’ What did you mean by that?!” His voice rising from impatience.

“Alright! Ok! Relax, we’re not here for a fight.” The tall boy says, trying to reassure the tense boy in front of them. It does little to ease Felix’s nerves.

“There wouldn’t be a fight anyway,” Felix threatens, his deep voice rumbling with promise. He can see the color drain from the smaller boy’s face. “Now talk!”

“Our water supply was contaminated!” The tall boy shouts. It feels like the whole world goes silent in reaction to his heavy words. And it’s Felix’s turn to stand frozen. “If we don’t find another water source, then we die. Happy now?” The sarcasm and malice dripping from his tone is palpable.

A few moments of silence stretches on between them, feeling much longer than they should, until Felix very slowly lowers the bow. His eyes still watching them cautiously, however. The two boys follow suit lowering their hands as tense sighs leave their lungs.

“How many are in your group?” He asks more calmly now.

“Four! We split up to search more of the area!” The smaller boy blurts out, earning an elbow from his friend. “Ow what?!” He questions in annoyance.

“We don’t know if we can trust him! Don’t spill all our secrets,” the tall one replies through gritted teeth.

“Well he didn’t shoot us in the heads so I’d say we can trust him at least a little,” the other pouts.

“Again, you know I can hear you right?” Felix can’t help but chuckle at their banter now, sliding the arrow back into the pack slung over his shoulder.

“Right. Sorry,” the tall one apologizes with guarded eyes. “I’m sure you can understand my hesitation though.” Felix nods in agreement.

“Yeah, I understand better than anyone. I have people to protect too.” He admits as an olive branch for a truce. The wide eyed gasp he gets as a response to his honesty is a good sign. “I’m Felix.” He introduces before they can ask any more questions for information he might not be willing to tell.

“I’m Han!” He greets cheerfully, stepping around the taller boy to extend his hand out to Felix. “It’s nice to meet you!” The latter hesitantly shakes his hand but finds the wide smile that spreads across Han’s cheeky face contagious.

“Nice to meet you too, Han,” Felix says politely before turning to his companion expectantly. There is a tension as the two stare at each other.

Han looks back and forth between them, nervously wringing his hands together as the silence drags on. Until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hyun, be nice. Maybe he can help us,” he persuades in a quiet voice. The other boy looks at his friend skeptically then sighs.

“You’re right. I’m sorry…again.” His eyes drop, looking ashamed at how he’s acted. Felix knows, and he doesn’t blame him, so he offers a warm smile.

“I get it. To be honest, I’m still hesitant about you too,” Felix chuckles. This draws the other’s eyes up to meet his, sincerely grateful and curious at his good nature all of the sudden.

“Yeah,” he breathes a laugh along with him. “I’m Hyunjin, by the way.”

Felix’s smile widens. “It’s good to meet you, Hyunjin.”

Han makes a loud clap with his hands as a sign of finality, reasonably startling the other two half to death. “Now that that’s all settled and we’re all buddies now,” Han drawls out cheerfully, “do you know of a good water source around here?”

The lilt of hope in his question makes Felix feel a little guilty that he can’t just help them right away. Minho taught him better than that. These people may not be dangerous but they’re still strangers and he can’t trust them just yet.

“Um, maybe,” he answers honestly, quickly going on when he sees their faces drop in defeat. “I just have to talk to my people! I do want to help, but I…can’t put them at risk. I’m sure you can relate.” He offers and gets a nod of understanding from Hyunjin.

“Makes sense,” Han agrees too, but it doesn’t stop the sigh that escapes him.

Once again, Felix feels awful. So he quickly drops his backpack at his feet and digs through its contents until he finds what he’s looking for.

“Here! For in the meantime,” Felix says, handing over his canteen that’s three-quarters full of fresh water.

Han’s eyes grow wide, sparkling as he looks from the canteen to its owner. “Wait, are you serious?!” He asks excitedly.

“Of course! Take it! You can use it more than me!” Felix laughed, handing it over. Han eagerly takes it from his hands and turns to Hyunjin with a huge smile.

The latter motions for him to go ahead, prompting the cheeky boy to twist the cap and take a big slug. He groans at the refreshing taste, then passes it to his friend who also takes a drink before replacing the cap. He goes to hand the container back to Felix but he shakes his head.

“No, no. You guys take it. Let the rest of your group have some, too.” Felix says encouragingly.

The canister gets handed back to Han, who holds it tightly to his chest. “Thank you Felix,” he says with the utmost gratitude and sincerity. Both boys offer him a deep bow but Felix waves his hands in denial.

“It’s no problem really!” He says with a laugh, helping both of them stand upright. “Listen, why don’t we meet back here tomorrow. I’ll talk to my people and see what they say. You bring the rest of your group and we can try to work something out. How’s that sound?”

Han’s mouth opens with his smile but Hyunjin raises a hand to cut him off from speaking too quickly. “How many people are with you?” The taller boy asks.

Felix hesitates. Debating himself with how important that information is and how much he can trust these new people he desperately wants to help. If they’re not lying, they’re equal in numbers. And he knows they can all take care of themselves.

“We have four, too,” he admits.

Hyunjin raises a brow at him. “What a coincidence.”

“I’m not lying. They’re my three best friends,” Felix says.

“Prove it.” Han says quickly. “Stop hesitating and tell us their names,” he challenges.

And Felix doesn’t hesitate this time. “Lee Know, Seungmin, and I.N.”

“‘Lee Know? I.N?’” Han parrots. “Are those aliases?”

“It’s what they go by,” Felix responds. It’s not a bullface lie after all. They do go by those names with strangers. If it makes them feel safer, why would he introduce them as anything else? Then his voice lowers in warning. “Got a problem with that?” The threat clear in his tone.

“Easy! I do the same thing!” He squeaks, hands raised in surrender and a nervous laugh bubbling out of him. Felix’s brows lift in surprise. “My first name is Jisung if you’d rather call me that,” he adds with a shrug.

Felix smiles as he shakes his head with a chuckle. “Wow, we’re not so different, are we,” he says more to himself than to them. But they hear and they agree.

“I know it’s stupid to say, in this messed up world we live in now,” Han says softly, a vulnerability can be heard in his words, “but I hope we can become friends. When everything is said and done, I mean.” Felix’s eyes widen at the admission.

“Sungie…” Hyunjin sighs, taking a step closer to him. Ready to comfort the smaller boy when his hopes are smashed by an uncaring stranger.

The little voice in the back of Felix’s mind excited and shouting at him that he wants that too. That there was something about these two that he relates to and can feel that it’s fate they met today. But a bigger more rational part of his brain reminding him that it’s just not plausible to trust new people.

“I…wish we could too, Jisung,” Felix decides to say mournfully. The other’s eyes drop to his feet, nodding in understanding.

“Come on, Sungie. Let’s go back,” Hyunjin suggests, sliding an arm around his slumped shoulders. Then he looks back at Felix. “Will we still be able to meet tomorrow? Even if we just get a supply until we can find—”

“I’ll be here,” Felix cuts in, shaking his head to say he doesn’t need to explain. “One way or another, I’ll help you guys out. I promise.”

Both boys give him a grateful smile. “Thank you Felix,” Hyunjin replies before guiding Jisung back the way they came.

Felix watches as they leave, never turning his back on them until they’re out of sight. Like Minho had taught him. He lets out a deep sigh as he throws his pack over his shoulders to head his own way back home.

How is he supposed to explain this one to the others? And how can he make sure he keeps his promise to these people his heart is bleeding to help?

~~*~~

[elliott-the-creature]

making a post with some info about my headmates/facets and our system in general! it’ll be good to have while we’re processing our syscovery, and it’ll definitely be updated when new things are discovered. (anything in blue text is new info added after the original upload)

we are a median specutien proxy system! we will use the term system, but we also use collective, dorm, and chat to refer to us. we don’t have an official system name for all of us, but that’ll be worked out soon. our origin/reasoning for being plural is not quite clear yet, but we’re fairly sure it’s not traumagenic. pretty much all of our members are alterhuman/nonhuman in some way, and we prefer to be referred to as nonhuman or something along those lines. we are firmly of the stance that all systems are valid (no matter the origin or presentation), and anti endos, anti tulpas, anti non-traumagenic systems, sysmeds, and exclusionists will NOT BE TOLERATED WHATSOEVER!!!

here is some info about each headmate/facet! it’ll include names, pronouns, roles (although it won’t always be clear what their roles are or they won’t even have a role), and general facts and information about each one.

Katie, aka K, is me! I’m the host and core of this collective, and the one that my family, friends, followers, and mutuals know about the most/solely. you know my pronouns and stuff about me, so there’s no real need to rehash all that (but if you don’t know, then just click here for my pronoun page).

Maple is probably the oldest headmate of ours, and is most likely a tulpa-born imaginary friend resulting from loneliness and a need for a more structured part of ourself during a rough part of our life. she uses she/he/they/it, but likes he and they the most. he seems to look like me, except with shorter, more masc-looking hair and a broader body. sometimes they’ll take the form of a bird that looks similar to a treepie or a cinnamon coloured fox. she’s very levelheaded and reasonable, and is the most realistic and down-to-earth of all of us. this often results in him being the one to remind us to eat, drink, go to bed, and stay on track.

Princess is a brown and white english bulldog puppy, and is our resident little. she uses she/he pronouns, and is a big ball of happy-go-lucky energy. she loves anything to do with age/pet regression/dreaming, and is just a very childishly naive and sweet puppy. he’s also quite sensitive to criticism and arguments, and just wants everyone to be happy and get along together. her favourite colours are red, pink, and cyan, and he often dawns a pink collar with a red bow.

Red is our anger holder and protector. she’s a red feathered dragon with a long tufted tail and large wings. ae likes any names associated with the colour red (such as scarlet, carnelian, ruby, mahogany, etc), but we just use the name red to refer to her most often. she uses she/ae pronouns, and gives off femme fatal vibes in a way. ae’s the one who gets frustrated and upset the easiest, and is in a constant state of either furiously pacing or slumped in a corner with her wings drawn in. she’s fiercely protective and loyal to both our collective and my family and friends. I most often see aer with Finley or Something (both other facets that I’ll talk about later).

Speaking of, we have Fin (short for Finley)! he’s our very anxious cautious jittery ball of fluff, and uses he/him pronouns (although he’ll sometimes use no pronouns or his name instead of pronouns). he looks like those long cat plushies (specifically a grey and white tabby), except if it was actually a real live cat. if you haven’t caught on, Fin likes using a lot of parentheses when speaking, because there’s always more information and intent that isn’t always known, and Fin just prefers to give out all of the information to avoid misunderstanding. he’s the one who is always running around wailing “what if this? what if that? do they really mean it? what if they’re actually lying or something?”, and needs a lot of reassurance about his fears and anxieties.

Ty (short for Tyler (we have NO IDEA why he chose that name btw; it isn’t my favourite name, but we roll with it)) is a robot who uses it/its, but also doesn’t mind any other pronoun (EXCEPT for she/her or any really fem sounding pronouns). we can’t really tell if it’s a protogen or some kind of robot with a tv/monitor for a face (it flip flops in my head when I imagine what it looks like), but it doesn’t mind being referred to or envisioned as either. he’s super into any kind of information, and is always seeking out new things to learn. this often results in him making me ask unintentionally intrusive or rude sounding questions in an attempt to learn more about someone or something, which gets us in some trouble or earns some weird looks (oops!).

Cinnabar is an odd part of ourself, as I (the host) am not quite sure on whether thon’s a fictive or just a kintype of myself. anyways, we’ll make an info page on thing just in case it ends up being the former. Cinnabar is our first and only (for now) fictive, and is a red bokoblin from the BOTW/TOTK era of TLoZ. Thing uses thon/thing pronouns, and is a very silly wild creature. Cinnabar may be a misanthrope, but thing may just not really like humans due to thon being constantly bullied by humans when thon was a human. thing was willingly transformed into a bokoblin (although thing mostly retained the mindset of a human) by the cursed statue residing near hateno village around 40~ years after the calamity that destroyed hyrule in BOTW. Cinnabar absolutely adores all types of animals, and is eager to learn all about the natural world (thing particularly loves horses, birds, and dogs the most). thon also loves getting into mischief, and is the one always wanting to hear gossip or fun stories from everyone.

Finally, we get to our last facet (as of the making of this post; there may be more in the future). This one is the most elusive and confusing one, so we don’t have a lot of useful information. this thing is Something, and it uses it/thon. yes, it’s name is Something (and it has to be capitalized, it just feels right and makes it satisfied), because that’s really the only thing that describes it. what is it? well, it’s Something. it takes the form of a vaguely humanoid shadowy void thing (sometimes we see it with one singular eye or a mouth (never both at the same time though, which is a little creepy)), but is also capable of shapeshifting into other forms (although they will always be shadowy and not always clear). Something is a very negative facet of ours, and is the one who is always muttering intrusive/invasive thoughts to me. when I imagine Something, it feels as if I’m sinking into a vat of tar; my breathing gets shallower, my brain sometimes gets fuzzy or preoccupied with solely thinking about Something, and I lose track of what I’m supposed to be doing or saying or even thinking (it’s really weird tbh).

well, now we’re finished with talking about our facets! I’ll add a list of emoji signoffs for each one, as we all really love signoffs and love expressing ourselves with fun symbols :)

Katie/K: 🩷/🐕

Maple: 🍁/🪶

Princess: 🐶/🎀

Red: 🐦‍🔥/🏔️

Fin/Finley:🧣/🐾

Ty/Tyler: 📺/📚

Cinnabar: 🐷/🌎

Something: 🌚/♠️

[generational-atrophy]

this is very random, but what about the hetalia main eight where their s/o has a dog/cat(ur choice). And the dog/cat is very friendly and loving towards the s/o but not them(it acts cold and sort of just doesnt like them), like how would they react to that?(u dont have to do this if u dont want to its really dumb lmao, either way have a good day)

(Hetalia Main 8 x Reader) S/O’s pet dislikes them.

(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N this is a cute request. … .. . ouppy and kitty!!! Sorry this is shorter idk:

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

“What, don’t they like me? I didn’t do anything wrong…”

Alfred really cannot tell when animals like or dislike him. To be fair, he’s like that with humans too… but with animals, he just assumes they all love him.

But he’s also not great at being incredibly gentle with them. If you want him to stop riling up your animals you’ve got to just tell him outright.

After that, he’ll just try to bribe them with treats. If he can be bought with food, surely your pet can too. Actually, him and your pet are similar in a lot of ways…

You can literally see how hard it is for him to resist petting them (especially if it’s a dog… he loves dogs so much,) but he’ll wait until they come to him first.

“Alright well… these things can take time I suppose. They’ll like me eventually, right?”

Arthur doesn’t take it personally. He’s had a lot of animals of his own, and they’ve all hated him at the start as well. He’ll just be patient.

 But also all the pets he’s had before have been like… sheep or rats so he’s not sure how to handle your more average pets. Hopefully they don’t care if he doesn’t pet them a lot.

He says he doesn’t care that much, but you’ve also caught him sneaking your pet little pieces of dinner (he’s nearly as bad as Alfred!)

In general, he doesn’t care much for most animals, but he absolutely adores yours. The first time they act affectionately towards him, he immediately calls you excitedly.

“Aw, why are you running away? I will just catch you again!”

He’s definitely taking it a little personally. He hasn’t had a lot of pets that weren’t birds so he’s not used to normal animal affection. He definitely needs assurance from you that they’ll love him eventually…

But until then, he’s just gonna force your pet to be around him. Even if they hate it, he’s gonna be super affectionate. 

Hopefully they don’t get too pissed off about it. It breaks his heart just a little that they won’t reciprocate. They like you and not him?!

Once they finally do, he nearly bursts into tears. He takes about a million photos and immediately sends all of them to you.

“Aiyah! Fine, then I do not like you either. Even when you’re so cute…”

Yao has lots of pets himself. That love he has for you absolutely extends to your animals. When they don’t love him back, well, he has nothing but time!

A lot of the time, he’ll just sit next to them, trying to get them more comfortable. He would never force them to be affectionate with him, even though he just wants to grab them and squeeze them-

Once they start crawling in his lap on their own volition, he’s cuddling with them all the time! If your pets weren’t spoiled before, they will be now.

“Y/N, can’t you make them like me? It makes me feel bad…”

Ivan is used to rejection, but not rejection from something so adorable! He takes it very personally… he’ll act like he’s not upset but he really is. After all, your pets are important to you, so he’ll have to love them too

He doesn’t know how to make them warm up to him, so he just tries everything at once. This of course… does not work. Which probably only makes him more upset

But once you tell him to just leave them alone, he listens. Soon enough your pet will be crawling all over him, and he’ll be losing his mind about it. Animals have never liked him before, but just like you, your pet is finally an exception.

“Come here little kit- Ouch! Why would you hurt me when I’m trying to love you?!”

Just like he is with you, Feliciano is not familiar with “taking it slow.” As soon as he can, he tries grabbing and playing with your pet. If they resist, he’ll be a little hurt.

He’s much better with cats than he is with dogs. If you have a cat, he’ll try playing with them and laying next to them whenever he can. If you have a dog, he’ll ask to take it on walks just the two of them.

Considering how lovable he is, surely your pet will warm up quickly. And when they do, he couldn’t be more ecstatic.

“Oh no, did I do something wrong? They don’t seem to like me very much…”

Considering how many dogs Ludwig has had, he’s really not used to this. Animals tend to love him on sight, so he’s not sure how to proceed from there.

So, he researches. Soon you’ll see him just hanging out around them, trying to get them more comfortable. Plus, he’ll buy lots of treats he’s sure they’ll like. Anything to get them loving him as quick as possible.

And once they do, that pet is as important to him as it is to you. Even if things were awkward at the start.

“Ah. That’s too bad. Maybe they will warm up to me later.”

Frankly, Kiku does not care that much. He won’t take it personally. He knows that most animals (... and many people) can find him hard to warm up to. But your pet will be seeing him a lot, so it will be fine in the long run.

If he buys your pet anything, it’s not to manipulate them into liking him or anything. He just thinks your pet is super cute and deserves it.

When they do finally come to him, he’s super excited. Even though he doesn’t seem like it. He’ll call you into the room and then just point at your pet like “!!!” After that, that animal is getting all the love and affection he can possibly give.

[flowerslut]

so...one fell swoop?

I have worked on absolutely none of one fell swoop in almost 2 years now because of roots/cotn. here's a big snippet of the draft as an apology (I have no idea when I'll work on it more tbh—cotn's rewrite is up next on the to-do list!)

enjoy 1.3k more words of chapter 3:

When he came to again, the sun was shining brightly into the room. He rolled over and glared at the fact the blinds were fully open. Even glancing toward the window made a dull ache burn behind his eyes. Then, the last several hours came back to him.

Shit, he’d gotten his ass kicked while withdrawing.

“Jasper?”

Oh fuck. Alice.

Sitting himself up he yawned. “Hey,” he rasped, running his hand through his hair. His fingers caught on some crusty patches. Pulling his hand back he smelled it. Yep, definitely vomit.

He looked over at her, nervous as to what he’d see. But she was sitting on her bed, a notebook in her lap, nibbling on the end of a pencil as she stared at him, an apprehensive look on her face. “Are you alright?” She asked cautiously, closing the book in her lap and shoving the pencil in the spiral loops of the notebook. 

“Yeah, ‘m fine.” He hated how raspy and sore his voice sounded. “Sorry if I uh,” he gestured to the bathroom, “disturbed you with all that.” He almost winced at his own wording. ‘Disturbed?’ Great one. “I guess I caught some bug.”

It wasn’t until she started moving toward him that he realized she had a new dress on. This one was just as long as the other one, but white in color, and with shorter sleeves. “You freaked me out a bit.” Pressing bare feet against the floor she finally stopped where she was, still staring at him curiously. Her eyes were as dark as her hair was but now that it wasn’t pressed to her head because of the rain she looked… different.

He grimaced at her words, hating how she really did sound freaked out with that admission. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“I uh,” then she stood fully and moved across the room toward the fridge. “I ordered food from a place down the road.” As she spoke, Jasper’s eyes wandered to the open phone book on the nightstand separating their beds. “I didn’t know what to order so there’s uh, fries, and chicken, and some type of noodle thing. I don’t really know. I just figured you’d be hungry when you woke up.”

He absolutely wasn’t hungry, but he knew that he would need to eat eventually. He couldn’t even remember when he’d eaten last. Maybe yesterday, or the day before. He figured that in an hour or so he’d try to force some food down. The fries he’d probably be able to stomach without too much of a risk of throwing them back up. His nausea wasn’t entirely gone but it was drastically lessened.

He nodded, “Thanks.” He knew that she probably deserved more of a ‘thank you’ than that, but that’s all he had the energy to give.

He peered behind her then, toward the bathroom, and noticed what looked like a few dresses just lying on the floor. If she was doing laundry in the sink then she was definitely homeless. Not that he’d required any further confirmation, but this about solidified that.

He also could have just asked but for some reason it felt rude.

“Oh, I was just washing some things,” she said, following his gaze, “They’ll be dry soon, I promise.”

Jasper almost asked her why she didn’t just go to the laundromat across the street if she needed to do laundry that badly. Recalling her words from the day before removed that question from his mind.

“I don’t like being around people.”

It suddenly seemed a little more complicated than that.

He then glanced from the bathroom, then to Alice, and then out the window. There was something about what he was seeing that didn’t look right. Now that the blinds were pulled back he could see his car from where he were sitting on the bed. It wasn’t until he realized that the world outside looked oddly dry that he started looking around. The clock on the nightstand blinked a red ‘7:28’ at him, confirming his suspicion that it was early in the morning.

But something still felt off.

“What day is—” but then he remembered that he had hardly been able to recall what day it was when they’d gotten into this damn motel room. “I mean, how long have we been here?”

Alice was digging around in her bag. “I had to go back down to the office on Tuesday morning to pay for more nights.”

“Nights?” He did not like the way that word sounded so plural.

She glanced up at him. “Yeah? It’s Friday morning.”

Jasper just stared at her for a long moment, stunned. When he finally tore his eyes away from her he swung his legs over the edge of the bed before pulling his head in his hands.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” he snapped, and then when he ran his hand through his hair again and it caught on the dried vomit patch once more, he swore angrily. Standing up he walked toward the bathroom, “I’m going to shower.”

Despite his sudden anger, he was careful not to step on the clothes Alice had spread out on the ground.

It wasn’t her fault he’d fucked up this badly. It was his own fault.

Stupid, ridiculous, fuckhead.

The blanket he’d left on the floor the last time he was coherent was neatly folded and off to the side. It was probably full of vomit, too. He’d have to make sure to leave—or, have Alice leave—a decent tip for the poor motel employee that had to get that washed.

He stripped off his clothes quickly and jumped straight in the shower as he turned the water on. The cold shocked him right into the state of mind he needed to be in. He needed to be awake, alert, and figure out what the hell he needed to do next.

Tuesday. He was supposed to have been dead on fucking Tuesday. And then his withdrawal symptoms had caught up to him, which he hadn’t thought about because he hadn’t planned on being alive for long enough to have to endure that.

It was a little bit of Alice’s fault, he thought as he tried to divert some of the rage he felt outward. If she hadn’t stopped him or got him caught up in this damn ‘drive me to town’ mess, he’d be dead and everyone would be better off now.

Well. Maybe not everyone.

Before he could even think to close the shower curtain—after all, he was getting the floor adequately drenched with water—he looked out toward the sink. Sitting on the counter was a little yellow bag. And poking out of it Jasper could see mouthwash and generic-brand ibuprofen.

Things that he definitely hadn’t bought when they’d gone to the visitor’s center on Tuesday.

But that was the same style bag, and those were definitely items that only Alice could have purchased.

Yanking the shower curtain closed, Jasper leaned his head against the tile as the water slowly warmed. Pushing the conflicting feelings swimming in his chest to the side, he focused instead on his next steps.

Get dressed, eat something, drive Alice to Seattle, drive back to the coast, and then do what he came here to do.

But even as he planned his day out, a sense of apathy fell over him. Did he really have the energy to drive all the way back to this godforsaken town? The urge to just give up and drive home was creeping up on him, and he hated the sudden and heavy sense of failure that was encompassing him more than anything.

Reaching forward he cranked the water back to cold and reached for the shampoo sitting on the ledge of the shower.

He’d think about that later. Now, he had to clean puke out of his damn hair.

[eddies-artofsuffering]

September 1989

No, it’s great, he’s doing well. Not bad at all. Everything’s going just fine. College hasn’t been as bad as he’d imagined. Steve has everything he needs. He’s healthy. Employed. He has paid his rent on time, and he’ll get paid at the end of this week to pay for next month’s. There’s clothes on his back, food in his fridge and pantry. Most of all, it’s so liberating to be away from his practically nonexistent family, away from Hawkins and everything that was associated with the extensive mess. 

Okay. To be honest, being financially independent as a full-time student has been … difficult for Steve. But he’s making do. At least by working here at the school library via a work-study program, he could get flexible hours around his classes, and he could request a maximum of twenty hours a week. Shitty student wages aside, it’s a relatively cushy job, and it’s usually slow except during finals seasons, and there aren’t that many responsibilities. All Steve had to do was to learn the Dewey decimal system, learn how to shelf read, and be able to lift up to 50 pounds. Easy. That, and of course, deal with thousands of wide-eyed undergrads who come to the library with all sorts of purposes, agendas, and questions.

Meeting people at the circulation desk is a part of the job description. Steve’s pretty sure that he’s good at it. He’s had less than a year of work experience from both Scoops and Family Video combined, but customer service is customer service. If he’s gotta do it somewhere, there’s no debate; in his life full of terrible choices and mistakes, caving in to apply for college with Robin was definitely one of the best things he’s ever done. To his surprise - well, not about Robin, she’s brilliant - they’d both been accepted at the state school, far enough from Hawkins but not too far to visit if he really wanted to. Living with Robin in a tiny two bedroom apartment has been really, really fun, and Steve’s made some new friends, friends who don’t share his nightmares - and they are good, superficial friendships, exactly the way Steve wants. 

Things have definitely changed for Steve in the last few years. For starters, he hasn’t gotten into a fight or had a single bruise on his face ever since he left home. The nightmares, flinching, and flashbacks though - well. He doesn’t think they’ll go away completely, but it’s been so much better as of late, easier and faster for him to push through, and he sometimes even gets two full nights of sleep consecutively. That’s surely a win. 

Sometimes, Steve wonders if anyone from home could even recognize him. He’s lost a lot of muscles, his workout routine now only involving lifting stacks of books. His hair is much shorter now, the back of his neck completely bare these days, but the top of his head is still coiffed for his bangs to fall down effortlessly over his forehead; it still looks pretty good, as Robin always tells him, though it’s not as extravagant and full of ego as his former moniker suggested. This, of course, is by design; Steve does not want to stand out, or be particularly memorable. He’d even thrown out all of his polos from his high school days, opting rather for a simple T-shirt for most days, and his Members Only jacket is probably collecting dust inside Dustin’s closet at the moment (if that little shrimp still kept it for some reason). The only items from his old wardrobe that he’d brought with him were his jeans, because those were expensive, and now he’s got a budget as tight as his favorite pair of Levi’s. 

The biggest difference in Steve’s appearance, he thinks, is the addition of glasses for which he started to feel the need in the first semester of College. Having to wear glasses felt both like an end of an era and simultaneously a new beginning for his identity. Gone was King Steve, the Jockiest of Jocks; now, here in College, he’s just plain old Steve with hidden scars and unspeakable secrets, just like everyone else. Although - Steve doubts that there are too many others here who’d encountered interdimensional creatures and underground Russian spies.

Now in his final year of college - Steve’s not kidding himself anymore. Ever since he’s chosen to major in psychology, it’s become more and more obvious to him that all this change is his defense mechanism - a wall of sorts for him to hide behind - just like how his King Steve persona had been a compensation for his insecurities and loneliness. King Steve served his purpose for the time he was needed; now, in college, Plain Old Steve helps him avoid the attention, popularity, and all the bullshit that comes with reputation and money. Not that the money was ever actually Steve’s. He makes his own living now, his own boundaries, and enjoys his freedom and the quiet. And quiet is good. Working at the library has been perfect for this reason. 

The thing about the quiet life is, though, is that it’s just really quiet. It’s actually really fucking boring, if he’s honest. But still, it’s slow enough that he could do his assignments at the circulation desk, and he’s being paid for his time. Yea, he shouldn’t complain. It’s a great deal. It allows him to live a relatively normal life, being a college student and shit. If the cataloging and shelf-reading and all that desk job shit is a little repetitive, it kind of helps Steve forget about how bored and restless he is. It helps him feel productive, like he’s doing something useful without being challenged too much. God knows how many brain cells he’s lost from those last couple of years back in Hawkins. He needs glasses now to see things, for fuck’s sake.

But, the questions, goddamn it, the fucking questions these kids bring to the circ. This is his fourth year working at the library, and he’s just getting tired, so much that he almost wishes for something insane to happen. 

Steve doesn’t know what he was expecting for this brand-new, three-story library for math and sciences - colloquially known as the ‘science library’ - but since the inventory here is specifically for those fields, things are even slower here than at the main library, especially without Robin working right next to him. Steve wants to feel something again, something that gets his adrenaline going. Maybe less mind-boggling monster bullshit - but something a little bit more than “where can I find books about starting a fire” (excuse me, what?) or “can you please tell the couple downstairs to shut the fuck up?” (and Steve had to go down to tell a pair of horny teens to get a room elsewhere) or “uh, why can’t I find this book?” (because it was released a month ago and they didn’t get a fucking chance to stock it yet, it’s on their list, hold your goddamn horses).

For some reason, they only ask him the most mundane of questions when Steve’s actually busy at work. Once or twice, some girls (rare sighting in this particular library, Steve begins to notice) had come up to the circ to ask if he had the time, and Steve had misinterpreted it as a come-on, then sheepishly just pointed at the clock behind him when he realized that they weren’t asking him out. It was a big fucking clock, totally unmissable. The university has this ugly ass clock in every building in every single room. They must’ve placed a mass order of the same clock and distributed it everywhere. There’s some comfort in its ugliness, though; at least this clock is entirely monotone, and there’s no room for any interpretations other than just the time. The blue does not meet yellow in the west. Steve can live with that. 

-

So, on the last Friday of September when he hears a dude ask “hey, where did the clock go?” that breaks Steve’s razor-sharp focus on the catalogs - you know, it annoys him a little. He was on such a roll. Now he’s lost his rhythm. Damn it.

Steve subtly rolls his eyes and turns his revolving chair around to look at the clock. Or rather, where the clock should be. In its place, a lonely nail sticks out on the wall, markedly without the said clock. Hmm. Seriously, where the hell did it go? Question for the office later. Glancing at his wristwatch, Steve flatly announces, “I guess we have no clock. I’m your clock now. It’s… 12:03,” and turns around to look at the asker’s face, then immediately tears his eyes away. He seriously may burn to a crisp if he stares any longer, it’s like looking directly into the sun, because fuck, dude is pretty.

Steve’s never seen this guy before in the library, main or science, nor around the campus. Granted, there are literally thousands of students enrolled at this school, and it’s only been a month at this specific desk, but still, this is unacceptable - and the dude knows that the clock is missing, so he’s been here before, familiar with the goddamn clock’s location and everything. So how come Steve has never seen him here before? Now that is the real question. 

He cautiously looks up at the dude again, slowly. Dude’s stupidly big dark-brown eyes stare back at him, and he’s tapping on the counters with his multi-ring-clad fingers. Dude has really nice hands.

“Oh! You’re my clock now, huh? This is great news. I much prefer you than the clock, fuck the clock. I’d believe you even if you told me it was 4 in the morning… Anyway, I can use your stapler and stuff, right?” Clock Dude smiles, holding a stack of papers. Dude has dimples in his cheeks - dimples - and Steve decides that maybe he does want to stare directly into the sun, and fuck the consequences.

“Uh, yes, everything there’s for everyone, so,” Steve says in monotone, feeling his face getting warm. He carefully brushes his bangs to the right and watches Clock Dude slide down the counter with a “thanks, babe,” and fuss around with the papers. Dude’s arms are sprinkled with tattoos and, hold on, he totally has a wristwatch himself. Then why - ? 

No. Steve is not going to question him, not going to call him out at all. Dude called him babe. Steve’s earlier endeavors at cataloging are completely forgotten. Now all that matters in the world is observing the way that Dude grabs the stapler and sliding the pages in between, his eyes locking with Steve’s again as he clamps down with a smile. 

“Uh - hang on,” Clock dude says, straining hard as he puts his weight on the stapler again, again, and again. His curly hair, tied up in a messy ponytail, bounces every time he clamps down on it. The stapler shouldn’t need that much force, although being over the top could just be Clock Dude’s default manner. But the upper left hand corner of his paper comes away without staples each time. 

Ugh, of course. Steve knows exactly what’s going on. The office supplies in the library aren’t in a great shape in general—the stapler in particular. It either doesn’t have enough staples, or it has to be yanked opened and adjusted to function properly. Steve’s just replenished the staples that morning, so it has to be the latter issue.

Dude has given up and now is giving Steve help me eyes with a pout. It makes Steve a little giddy, but. Steve didn’t get his reputation for being entirely transparent. Steve Harrington is supposed to be a smooth fucking charmer, even with these nerdy ass glasses, even without the Hair. All he has to do is pretend like he doesn’t care and give a practiced sigh, which he executes beautifully, feeling a little smug about it as he fixes the goddamn stapler. 

“There.” He hands back Dude’s perfectly stapled paper, though the corner of the pages is indented with Dude’s earlier attempts.

“Whoa! Thanks. Are you now my clock and a stapler?” Clock Dude’s grin widens as he shrugs off his backpack, and - okay, maybe it was a mistake to move too close to the edge of the counters, because now Steve can see Dude’s entire outfit, and his jaw drops. Dude’s black band T-shirt - which reads Metallica Tour 88-89 with a bunch of city names and dates - is cropped. Several inches of Dude’s bare midriff are visible, just like that, out in the open. Dude’s torso is lean and toned, and there’s an edge of a tattoo poking out from the end of the shirt, and if Steve’s sight isn’t fucking with him, another one around the V of his pelvic bone, just above his black jeans. Holy shit. If he felt a little warmer in his face earlier, he is now 200% certain that he’s blushing. 

Dude follows Steve’s gaze to the bottom half of his stomach - where the rest of the shirt should’ve been - and smirks. Fuck.

“Hello? Eyes up here, sweetheart,” he snaps his fingers in front of Steve.

“Uh-what?” Steve says, a bit dazed, reeling from the cropped top and Dude’s pet names for him. Not that Steve’s been counting. It’s infuriating how hot this guy is, and he almost forgets what Dude said earlier - oh, right - “Sorry. Uh. Yea. Stapler, clock, I can be whatever you need me to be, if you, uh. If you need anything else,” Steve manages, trying to keep his voice steady and cool. He’s not going to focus on how it sounded the opposite of steady and cool, no siree.

Dude pauses a second at this comment. “No, but good to know,” he says, tapping the pages on the counter to straighten them (why on Earth would he do this? The paper is already stapled, you can’t straighten them anymore), and put them in his backpack.

“Are you - are you checking out anything?” Steve asks, cringing inwards as he detects desperation in his tone - but he’s secretly hoping to scan Clock Dude’s ID in the system. This is a very, very inappropriate idea, he knows. But when he scans someone’s ID to check out an item, the screen would show their general information, like their full name, address, phone number, and their status as a student, their major, what they’ve already checked out, and whether they’ve got any overdue items. Stuff like that. It’s just like Family Video’s user account records.

Or - Steve could also just ask his name casually without scanning. That’s a normal thing to do, right? It’s just being friendly. You know. Would you like to go on a curiosity voyage with me? I’ll be your guide and paddles, I’m Steve Harrington - ugh, no. That’s totally what Dustin would say, and Steve immediately shuts down that idea. 

“Huh. Well, I guess I am. Not any books though, not today. Just—the clock,” Dude says with a cheeky grin. Then he leaves the library without another word.

Steve sits back in his chair, blinking hard. 

Continue reading on Ao3

[ghouletteanon]

The ghoulettes + 27

Prompt 27: on a place of insecurity.

Happy Sunshine Sunday! I am sensing a theme with all the requests I get, which I’m definitely not going to complain about :D 

Sunshine, with the help of Mist, gets a buzz cut when her mates are on the Re-Imperatour. 400+ words of ghoulettes supporting each other (platonically).

Rating: Gen

Want to request a kiss ficlet? Prompt list can be found here

It is a big change. Sunshine had felt the need to mark her new life with a big change, and she has wanted to do it for a long time. She looks at herself in the mirror for the first time and takes in the final result. It's a lot to take in now that it’s real.

Sunshine had been helping Mist to trim her death hawk when she had dared to ask Mist to help to cut her hair. Mist had asked if she was sure, and Sunshine had nodded nervously but she was sure and Mist understood her. A haircut can be so much more than just a haircut.

Now, Sunshine’s golden brown, shoulder length locks are in the sink, mixing with Mist’s much shorter strands.

“Try running your hands through it,” Mist encourages her, clippers still in hand as she leans over her shoulder. “It feels great, doesn’t it?”

Sunshine does, her fingers gliding smoothly against the short, buzzed hair. There’re still a few millimeters of hair left, and it tickles as Sunshine runs her hands all over her scalp. Sunshine turns, trying to take in the way the buzz cut looks from as many angles as possible in the bathroom mirror. It's all short now, and Sunshine likes it. A lot.

But then doubts start settling in. It’s so different, and there’s no way back now to what she looked like before. Tears form in her eyes, and she’s overcome by the reality of the situation. Her mates might hate how she looks, even if she’s liking it.

“Sunny?” Mist puts the clippers down on the toilet lid and hurries to hug her. “What’s wrong, don’t you like it?”

“Yeah, I do, but,” Sunshine sobs. She dries away her tears with the back of her hand, and takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “What if Cirrus and Cumulus hate how I look?”

Mist turns Sunshine so she can look right into her eyes, hands still on her shoulder. “Those two fools love you, and they will love how you look no matter what. I bet they’ll even find it hot when they realize how much you like it.”

“You think so?” Sunshine asks between hiccups.

“I know so,” Mist chuckles, and kisses Sunshine right between her horns that used to be covered by her curls.

It feels odd, now that the spot is only covered by a few millimeters of hair. But Sunshine likes it. Sunshine closes her eyes as Mist pulls her in for a hug.

Later, when Sunshine calls her mates on a video call, she finds that she had been insecure for no reason. Mist was right, her mates love the look and are proud of her.

[boysplanetrecaps]

The Great Produce 48 Rewatch: Ep 2, Signal Song [Part 2]

Hey there, National Producer! (That's you, you cutey-pie!)

When we left off with this ridiculous(ly important) project, we were watching the trainees rehearse for the "signal song," Nekko-ya. In this post, we'll finish off talking about their rehearsal period. It's a comparatively shorter post. Woot woot!

We pick up with the girls in F class, who have noticed that the letter F, in the mirror, looks like a Korean double K (ㅋ) . Used alone, ㅋ can mean “LOL” or “ha ha”, so they jump up and down and laugh seeing the equivalent of “LOLOLOLOL” on their backs. 

They’re in the middle of joking around when Dance Bae comes in. Immediately, they quiet down. They’re all scared of her, but here’s the thing about Dance Bae -- she’s not a total psychopath. She just has no patience for untalented girls using the show as a springboard for their acting career. If you try hard, and listen to her, she’ll treat you with basic kindness. 

She notes that most of the girls are Japanese and tells them they’ll have to work hard. They try the chorus, working on their synchronized dance, and she says that they’re doing better than the C class, which makes them feel great. She congratulates them on how hard they’re working, saying “I thought you’d be a mess since you’re F-class. But you’re doing a lot better than expected, so, fighting!!”

I love how Ahn Ye Won, the YG KPlus model, looks like an actual giant in this photo. She’s only 5’7! 

A lot of this segment focuses on Chiba Erii, aka Sailor Mercury, second from the left in the photo above, shown in what is apparently some kind of glitch mode. She does not know how to sing, and she doesn’t seem to enjoy learning to dance. A lot of these girls find this process difficult but still seem… I don’t know, interested? But Erii is barely there. I’m not accusing her of laziness. I’m saying that she’s so miserable that she’s checking out. It’s kind of uncomfortable to watch. One really wonders why she came on the show. 

She doesn’t normally have such a full upper lip, so maybe she was having some sort of allergic reaction or something here. That might explain why she was so out-of-it. 

They dance in a group, and Dance Bae notices how disconnected Erii is. She asks Erii to dance alone, and Erii, fully enmeshed in this nightmare from which awakening isn’t possible, complies. It gives off vibes like someone should have edited in really loud sneaker noises. It only takes a few moments for Dance Bae to stop her, saying that Erii is just as bad as Sohye (from Produce101 -- a girl who obviously just went on the show to launch her acting career and accidentally won). Dance Bae tells her to work harder if she ever wants to get out of F class, and Erii begins to cry, hiding her face in her shirt. 

The other girls don’t seem to have much sympathy for Erii. 

Left to right: Yabuki Nako; Bibian; and Tanaka Miku. We haven’t really met Nako or Miku before, because they sang the Banana song together that was just too hot for MNET!

Here’s another shot of them from earlier in the scene so you can see what they look like from another angle. Left to right, this is Bibian, Nako, Natsume, and Miku.

Anyway, to go back to what I was saying about the girls not seeming to have much sympathy for Erii as she’s crying. The look on especially Bibian’s face is very much… not… sympathetic. I am not saying anything bad about any of these girls. I have no idea if Bibian and Erii hate each other. I have no idea if Bibian even had this expression on her face at that moment, in reaction to Erii crying. What I do know is that if there is animosity among AKB48 girls -- and there definitely, objectively, factually is -- it is caused by the AKB48 system itself, which is (or at least was) designed in such a way that animosity runs through the whole project like fudge ripples through a fudge ripple. They’re always competing in the General Elections (or at least, they were doing so at the time this aired), and always competing for who will sing on the A side or even a B side of a single. I’ll talk more about this later on with regards to gravely-voiced Noe and some rumors about her, but there are lots of stories about AKB girls physically attacking each other, or hiring other people to do so, and/or starting malicious rumors, really nasty stuff like that. I just have to be glad that the worst of that seems to be in the past, and that for whatever reason, you don’t tend to hear about stuff like that in Kpop these days. I also think it’s sweet that when put in an environment where people tend to help each other and cooperate, the AKB girls very quickly adjust and begin to adapt that perspective. It shows that at heart, most people really want to be friends. At least, I’d like to believe that that’s true. 

Ok, back to it. Erii crying kicks off a montage of other F-class girls crying. They know that if they don’t move up from F-class, they won’t even be allowed to stand on stage during the big performance of Naekkoya. Honestly, they get to me, because most of them, I know, are working hard and it has to be so stressful to be so young, so far from home, working so hard on so little sleep. Bibian’s comments might be the saddest: “I can’t even be in Class F. I’m so much worse than that.” As if she’s heard what they said in their interviews, Dance Bae tells them, with unexpected softness, “Let’s all go up to the higher classes. I really want to see you all perform on stage…. Let’s pull the A graders down! Let’s go. Fighting!” See, I told you from the start that she’s not the psychopath around here. 

Then there’s a really cute montage of the F-class girls working together and trying to encourage each other. A Japanese girl offers Hyewon a sweatshirt, pantomiming “being cold”, and Hyewon understands and accepts it.  Matsuoka Natsumi interviews that the Korean trainees came over to talk to her when she was crying. 

I'm pretty sure that that's Ahn Ye Won, the YGK+ model, comforting her.

As the Love Theme from Produce 48 plays, they all say that they’re working the hardest because they know they have the furthest to go. Even Erii is working hard! I’m here sitting on my cat paw cushion shouting at the computer screen. FIGHTING, girls!! FIGHTING!!! Also please get some sleep!!!

Heading Into the Final Eval - 1:36:53

It’s the night before they will record their individual performances of Naekkoya for their final evaluation. Some of the girls are lying in bed, practicing the lyrics and hand movements. Others, like Takeuchi Miyu’s Korean roommates, are still practicing, leading her to wonder out loud, in slow Korean, “Don’t the Korean trainees sleep?” Sakura notes the same thing, that they seem to just keep practicing instead of sleeping, so she’s doing the same. She’s embarrassed that seven years after her own debut, she’s not nearly as good as the other girls. But it’s obvious that part of the problem is that she’s completely exhausted. Girls! Listen to your unnie! You need to sleep or you’re going to have a complete brain collapse tomorrow! 

Choi Yeonsoo, one of the YGK+ models, tries to help Minami, aka Sailor Mars/Lemon-chan’s mom, who looks like she’s about to drop. She’s only 14, for heaven’s sake.

Yeonsoo uses little drawings to try to communicate.

Side note: to any of my lovies who are studying for something, remember that your brain is part of your body and if you don’t take care of your body with enough sleep and stuff, your brain also won’t work well and it’ll be hard to learn. Please try to get some sleep! Your health is important.

They are all working together and trying to help each other. Most of them want to make it to A class (or stay in A class) so that they could be in the center. As if it isn’t obviously going to be Sakura. 

Ok, that’s it for this post! In the next one, we’ll begin talking about the grade reassignments. See you then!

[d3v0t3dv1rtualch33s3cak3]

Just wrote the first chapter of my Flower shop and tattoo parlor AU for Hangster and Icemav.

Everyone is kind if aged down, just so I find it a bit easier to write for them :)

Here it is if you wanna read it.

It's only 1012 words. It's pretty small

There was something enticing about the smell of flowers for Jake. As soon as he stepped through the door, he felt at home.

“How are you today, Jake?”

Tom was the store manager or Iceman as everyone called him. Despite being a few years older than Jake, he didn't act like it.

I'm fine, Iceman. But you know how much I like the name Hangman."

"Get it tattooed on your body. Like your wrist. That way you can show me every time I mess up.”

"When is my next free day?”

“Friday.”

The store wasn’t going to open until nine, and it was only eight thirty.

“Think we're gonna be busy today?"

"It's Wednesday. It's midweek, so I don't think we'll be getting too many."

Thirty minutes passed very quickly in Jake's mind. Iceman was in the back office, doing paperwork, while Jake was stuck manning the desk.

Jake heard the bell ring at the door, but didn't bother greeting the person. He'd give the customer a few minutes to look around before he'd ask any questions.

Jake heard the footsteps stop and start again regularly, and even pacing back at some points. Once a few minutes had passed, Jake stood out of the counter and found the customer.

"Good morning sir,"

The man looked away from the flowers and turned to Jake.

"Anything particular today?"

The man was shorter than Jake, he had dark brown hair and green eyes.

"Not really. Is there anything that kind of symbolizes "love" and things like that?"

"There are plenty of flowers with a meaning of love. Any particular color?"

"Blue?"

"Forget-me-nots. They are a very pretty blue, and mean true love, And as the name suggests, hope to never be forgotten."

"Any white ones? That I can take with the blue? They like ice."

"White lilacs. Go great with bouquets and represent youth and purity."

"Great. How much?"

"$25. Just come to the counter while I get your flowers. Is a black ribbon okay?"

"Yeah. Are there cards at the front desk?"

"Mhmm!"

Jake got the flowers and wrapped the ribbon around the stems, holding them together.

The man handed over exact cash, and finished writing the card.

"Who's it for? If you don't mind me asking."

"My partner. We've been dating for six months and I'd like to show that I have been paying attention to dates."

Jake chuckles at the statement. He definitely struggles with dates.

"Well, I'm sure they'll love them."

The man smiles and puts the cards in the flowers. Promptly leaving the store, bell jingles being the only thing that followed.

Four o'clock came faster than Jake expected it to. He dealt with fewer customers than he usually does.

But he expects in two weeks time, the store will be getting busier since it will be closer to February.

Jake turns off the open sign and heads down to Ice's office.

"Hey Ice. Just letting you know I'm heading out."

"Cool. See you tomorrow."

Jake nods and exits the store. Heading down the street he has seen so many times in his years here in California.

He passes the Cafe, run by Phoenix and Bob. Halo comes to help sometimes as well. Jake likes going there, not only to hang out with his friends, but because he actually likes their coffees.

He passes the restaurant owned by Fanboy and Payback. He eats there sometimes. But he doesn't get a discount, which is why he doesn't visit often. How much do you think Jake makes in a week?

Coyote and Omaha don't work in California, but they do own a bakery in Utah.

Then he passes the new tattoo shop. Jake's always wanted a tattoo, but his momma said he always had to be sure this is what he wanted.

He decided to walk in, see who works here, and really see if getting a tattoo is really worth it.

A bell rings above his head as enters. The walls are covered in sketches and tattoos. Jake walks up to the counter and a man walks up to him shortly after.

"Good afternoon! Or is it evening?"

"I classify it as afternoon, but it could be evening to you."

"Is there something you need?"

"Yeah, two things. Hey, I'm Jake, but please call me Hangman. I work down the block at the flower shop. I not only came here to introduce myself, but to see if this tattoo shop is actually going to change my mind into getting one."

The man leans on to the counter and chuckles.

"Well, Jake, I'm Bradley, but you can call me Rooster. It's nice to meet you. So you haven't gotten a tattoo before?"

"Nope. My momma says it's better to get something I really want. I actually have a few ideas that I want, but they're probably really basic."

"Hey, you're new to this. A basic generic tattoo is a great start, and it probably won't be something you'll regret."

Jake smiles at him.

"I better get going soon. I have a dog at home."

Jake walks towards the door when he hears Bradley– Rooster speak behind him.

"I hope to see you soon then, Hangman."

Jake smiles to himself and gently waves to Rooster.

Jake walks back to his place, trapped in his head.

You only just met him! You just find him hot. It's not like he feels the same way.

Jake takes out his key and unlocks his door.

Jake's dog is already jumping at him before he even enters the house.

"Bernie! Calm down!"

Bernie was a Bernese mountain dog. Jake got him from the pound two years ago when Bernie was still a puppy, and ever since they've been the bestest buds.

Jake took out his wallet and gently threw it on the kitchen counter top.

Jake took out dog food from the cupboard and poured a healthy amount in Bernies' bowl.

Jake slowly walks over to the couch, not bothering to make something for dinner. He was too busy thinking.

Thinking about Rooster at the tattoo shop.