#genuinely i'm just so happy watching these people bounce off each other

[svtskneecaps]

dude how the fuck is it that everyone on this server has insane chemistry with each other. my brain just fuckin bounces between dynamics like wow foolish and bad, wow baghera and forever, wow baghera and bagi, wow philza and etoiles, wow fit and pac, wow pac e mike, wow favela five AND six (bagi screeching "DON'T MESS WITH FAVELA" paraphrased had my mental hamster wheel hitting unprecedented rpms), wow the french and the french + bebou, wow antoine and mouse, wow bagi and tina, wow tina and forever, wow morning crew, wow slime and mariana WHO I'VE SEEN INTERACT LIVE O N E TIME, wow rivers and roier wow, wow rivers + the vaca crew, wow girl town, wow jaiden and roier, wow baghera bad and forever, wow forever and cellbit, wow cellbit and tazercraft, wow cellbit and roier, wow quackity and etoiles, wow phil and forever, wow bad and etoiles, wow tina and etoiles (fucking love them), wow aypierre and maximus (what the fuck, love it), wow foolish and jaiden (and also bad), wow missa and phil, holy shit jaiden and cellbit, jesus christ antoine and maximus and SEE

I AM MISSING A MILLION INTERACTIONS THAT I HAVE ABSOLUTELY GONE INTO MY SIBLING'S TEXTS TO SAY "GOD I LOVE THEM" AND I GUARANTEE I WILL ADD TO AND UPDATE THIS LIST WITH MORE (bc wit of the staircase) there is so much enrichment in my enclosure my brain literally doesn't know what to do with it. i've stalled out. i'm so happy. how the fuck did they do this.

additionally, bc i KNEW i'd forget something: foolish and vegetta (HOW), cellbit and baghera, baghera and fit, mouse and cellbit

[lxkeeeee]

FOX CHRONICLES [PART ONE]

synopsis: the fatui members never ever questions the harbingers—no matter how weird, how unusual, and how out of character for them or else they would be goners in a blink of an eye.

notes: fluff, slightly suggestive at the end. No smut.

The sixth harbinger—harbingers rather, for a long time the seat has always been occupied by two people—Scaramouche and his wife, [y/n]. Though, Scaramouche is the one who leads their faction of soldiers most of the time as [y/n] usually plays the role as his assistant.

The fatui soldiers made a silent agreement to never question the harbinger ways, especially the couple's relationship—as they never saw the two being so openly affectionate with one another. Some rumors say they were married for political reasons, some rumors also say that they never genuinely loved each other. They don't even know the story of how they got married.

That's what they think.

The scene is very comical if you ask me, fatui soldiers eyeing each other in attempt of communicating to each other as if asking if they saw what they're seeing.

Scaramouche stood confidently Infront of their soldiers, strong and powerful—his presence is enough to make the entirety of the fatui soldiers shake in fear, they're afraid of him and his sadistic tendencies and he knows it and he loves it. Scaramouche stood Infront of his soldiers, barking out remarks to his men.

The comical thing is, a certain harbinger lies comfortably on his shoulder. [y/n] now on her fox form, curled up comfortably on top of her husband's shoulder, her tail used as a pillow as she purred softly near his ear. Scaramouche occasionally bringing his hand up to rub her fox ears making her purr before bringing his hand down again and rested it on his hips.

“You pathetic fools! You had one job! And you fucked it up!” He says, voice seething and bouncing around their office inside the Zapolyarny Palace. His voice making their soldiers shake in fear. “I ordered all of you to keep an eye and watch the traveler and now you're telling me you lost her?!” he seethes, [y/n] just snuggling closer to his neck, her fluffy tail swinging back and forth in amusement.

“But Sir, we did try to keep an eye out on her but she just dis-dis-disappeared! She was just standing near the Statue of the Seven in Mondstadt and she just vanished into thin air!” a soldier stammers in fear, Scaramouche's eye twitched at the tone of the soldier's voice and his pathetic excuse. The air cackle with electro from his delusion, his fingers twitching with the urge to kill the man. “Do you think I'm a fool? Do you hear how idiotic you sound right now?” He seethes and the soldiers began to shake even more from the fear they felt. This is it, this is their doom.

[y/n] sighs before changing her position, now sitting comfortably on his shoulder. She brought her paw to poke her husband's cheek—causing him to flinch in surprise, he was about to go off but then realized it's his wife. His eyes soften and his anger slowly disappearing. He exhaled a tired and annoyed sigh, they talked about this—how he shouldn't let his anger cloud his judgement and make rash decisions. She need not to use her voice to remind him, her paw is sufficient enough to remind him. “Yes. I know, I know.” Scaramouche mutters in annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose before glaring at his soldiers once more making them flinch in fear. “Whatever, all of you are dismissed. Leave before I changed my mind!” He barks angrily making the soldiers quickly left their office.

[y/n] chuckles as she jumps down from his shoulder, with a poof—she transformed back to her humanoid form. Scaramouche sighs and crossed his arms, “Happy now?” he asked and she giggles, “Very much, I'm so proud of you.” She said softly and Scaramouche closed the gap between them as he embraced her and bury his face at the crook of her neck—inhaling her familiar scent, cherry blossoms and lavender. His hands lazily tracing circles at her back. “Does the Balladeer want a reward for managing his anger?” she asked teasingly and he groans, “Shut up,” he mutters against her skin, “Affectionately.” he added, making her chuckle.

Scaramouche reluctantly left her embrace as he once again lean towards her and kisses her forehead, her fox ears folding against her head as he kissed her. His lips leaving her skin as he gazed at her with half-lidded eyes, placing a hand on her chin and pulled her towards him—pressing her lips against his.

A short and tender kiss is what they shared before parting away slowly, his hands cupping her face affectionately. “You know, I might as well accept your offer of rewarding my good behavior.” he says huskily, he could see her tail freezing in excitement before intertwining his hand with hers and pulled her towards their bedroom.

⊰᯽⊱┈──────────┈⊰᯽⊱

end notes:

I'll write more short fics of their moment with her in her fox form and also,

rabid anon I miss you 😔

sorry for being gone for a long time, I've been suffering with burnt out and with also with school

anyways, husband scaramouche is so Aaron Warner coded.

[gremlin-writes-angst]

Scraps to a Tank

Chapter two

2.5 k words

Fandom: Redacted Asmr/Audio

TW/CW: Quinn in other words toxic, controlling, abusive relationship. nothing graphic. This is a Boxing/Fighting Au so there is fighting, i wouldn't consider it graphic, but everyone's different so read with your own discretion. Homelessness. Yelling.

Let me know if I missed a trigger or spelling mistake.

Please comment and reblog, it lets me know people like my stuff and encourages me to write more!!!!!!

Two months later

Honestly, Darlin was expecting this to be easier for them.

But two months had passed and David still wouldn't let them in a real ring.

It was more than frustrating.

Day after day, hour after hour they would fight the same two people.

And that was if David was feeling nice.

Most days it was just punching bags and lifting.

They were itching to do more.

To fight new people.

To fight in a ring.

In front of an audience.

The adrenaline from that was something they craved.

Even when it was staged, and they lost. Hearing the crowd's reaction. Feeling the blood dripping from their face. Feeling the sweat cover their body.

They were an addict.

And David was keeping them sober.

They were using their frustration to attack the punching bag. They weren't planning on stopping anytime soon.

" You don't seem too happy"

Darlin's new friend, sweetheart intersects. Sweetheart watches as they take off their gloves, seemingly done with their practice for the day.

Darlin huffs.

Sweetheart watches for a while. After a minute or two they look around, no one else is in the gym. So they propose an idea

" would you want to spare?"

Darlin stops punching the bag, excitement distracts them, barely stopping the bag before it could swing back.

Darlin takes a few large breaths, catching the lungs up.

Sweetheart starts strapping their gloves back on

" No one's here, you wouldn't get in trouble"

Sweetheart walks away, yelling to account for the distance as they climb into one of the rings

Darlin smirks grabs their water, and takes a large sip before practically skipping to the ring sweetheart resided in.

" I'm not worried about that"

Darlin climbs into the ring. Sweetheart cocks an eyebrow

"Oh, so what are you worried about then?"

Their voice drips with a taunting tone

Darlin bounces on their feet a little

"You. Not sure if you remember the last time we fought."

Sweetheart lets out a short but genuine laugh.

"Oh, I remember. I remember letting you win."

" so you're saying you let me headbutt you"

" yes, in fact, I told you so seconds before you did it"

" I don't recall that."

Darlin was lying, this was just a little friendly shit talk before a fight. To ramp them up, and it was working.

Both fighters were ready. They circled each other while holding eye contact.

They both knew the first swing would come at any moment.

Darlin planned to Strick first, but first, they gave one more small push with their words

" must be the hit you took."

Darlin felt the signals in their brain move to take action, a simple swing to sweetheart's left cheek. But before anything connected, a voice boomed from across the room

" What do you two think you're doing?"

David

Both fighters dropped their hands.

Darlin rolls their eyes as Sweetheart whispers an apology

Darlin doesn't let up though. They were tired of this

" What does it look like we were doing?"

They didn't dare call him any names but they really, really wanted to

" What it looked like was you two were about to fight. When you both know you're not supposed to."

Darlin shaped back

"And why's that? We're both awesome ass fighters, so why can't we have a little sprawl"

David looked to sweetheart. They knew the answer, at least their answer.

"You want to know?"

Darlin rolls their eyes and lets their head fall back in annoyance

"Yes. Are you even listening?"

David began to walk to his office

"Fine. Wash up a meet me in here"

Darlin's eyes lit up, and they immediately headed to his office. That was before David glared them down.

" I said to wash up first"

Darlin took a breath, holding back the anger they felt. They forced a tight smile and walked away and toward the locker room.

In minutes they were sitting in David's office. David sat at his desk. Darlin on the other side. Without saying anything David's turned the computer screen toward Tank

The screen shows a steady shot of two fighters.

Darlin and Asher.

Darlin remembers this fight, there wasn't anything special about the fight.

They just remember because David set up a tripod.

Being filmed didn't change how they fought.

It was a good fight. They lost but they always lost. But the fight still felt amazing.

So why film it?

It was like every other fight they had with Asher.

So why show them it?

David Interrupts their thoughts.

" I want you to pay attention to Asher. See how he fights from this perspective."

Darlin leaned back into the chair, already annoyed with this task

" I've seen Asher fight before."

David sighs

" I know, just- just watch the video"

They do as he says, though they're more focused on how intently David is watching them.

They felt belittled

He didn't trust them.

Not like he should

They really didn't see the point in watching a video when they saw Asher fight, I  person about a hundred times now.

They figured if David was going to watch them so closely they might as well do as their told.

They focus on Asher, their fight is about halfway over at this point. At least that's what the recall. There's no indicator of who's winning yet. Just two fighters, fighting.

Then Asher laughs

He's known for his laugh

He's named after it.

Tank begins to roll their eyes at the obnoxious sound, it was pointless really.

But then they caught something.

Asher's body was practically split in two.

The side closer to Tank was moving one way. Fast, a clear attack.

But the other side was staying back just a little bit.

Darlin watched as they blocked Asher's first attack only to be thrown off and hit, square in the face by Asher's other hand.

Darlin remembers that.

He did that move a lot, but they never caught the pattern until now.

Because from the opponent's view, there is nothing to see.

It is invisible.

Tank is drawn in now.

Asher pulls the same trick over and over till he wins.

Though it is not the same, it is always a different move, a different combination. He has no clear dominant hand. No clear strategy. Not to the opponent at least. The only sign is that laugh.

It's a giveaway

But he still gets away with his sneak attack every time.

David watches as Tank's brain starts to pick at Asher's moves.

He glared door it but he's afraid their missing the big picture.

" Now watch you"

Darlin is actually interested now.

It's like their not even watching themselves because all they can think about is how stupid this fighter has to be, to fall for Asher's trick

David restarts the video

Darlin watches themselves very intensely. And yet they noticed nothing before the video ended

They were perfect. Practically at least. All their throws were strong, their timing was amazing, and their blocks were fast.

So what was wrong?

They looked to David

Hoping he'd help

Reluctantly he questioned

" What difference between the two of you."

"Well, Ashers did that thing."

"No. Not what you did differently. What is the difference between the two of you."

"Well, he is Asher and I'm Tank. We're different people."

David tries to relax, Tank was definitely his most frustrating trainee

" How are you two fighting, that is different?"

"Repeating the same question doesn't help. And we are both trained by you so nothing."

David looks into their eyes, he blinks. He's annoyed.

" Then why did he win? You are both trained by me and both lift the same amount, your strength is equivalent. Why did he win?"

" I.don't.know"

Tank wanted David to answer for them.

David refused to let that happen.

"Watch again. This time watch your chest and face. Ashers too."

Tank held eye contact with David.

David didn't back down either

" you'll watch this video until you figure it out."

Tank sighed before letting their eyes move back to the screen.

Once again the video played. And though they wanted to pay attention to the punching, they did as David said.

They watched their chest, move up and down consistently. They watched how fast they were breathing, how fast their chest reddened and covered in sweat. They looked over at Asher, it was completely different. He was still sweating but his breathing was slow.

They look back at themselves. They pay attention to their face, their eyes were rapid. Focused on Asher's arms.

Ashers were sharp, staying locked onto Tank's full body.

The video ended.

David asked again

" What is different between you and Asher?"

"We breathe differently."

They were proud to find the answer

" So?"

They weren't so proud anymore

"So what? The question was what was different. And now you're asking more."

" yes. I am. So why is the breathing important?"

" How the hell am I supposed to know. You are the teacher, you're supposed to tell me."

David doesn't reply, he waits for them to work it out

" So what if I'm fast, I move fast, so I breathe fast, s9 my eyes move fast."

"Why?"

It became too much too fast. They jumped out of the chair. They pushed past David and left the office

" I don't know David. God do you not understand that."

David followed the stubborn fighter out. He knew they were getting there.

" Fighters fight differently. So why does it matter if I was sweating more or if my eyes were watching his arms? Why was he watching my body? I mean the real question is why wasn't he paying attention to my arms? Why wasn't he fighting as hard as I was? Does he not see me as a real competitor? It's infiltrating. I'm good, maybe not perfect, but I'm a good fighter. It makes me so angry. How am I supposed to focus when I'm this fucking angry?"

They go quiet, fast. Then they mummer the last sentence again.

The realization makes them angrier

Their to fucking angry

“Fuck! It's cause I'm too angry. Right?

David's face confirmed exactly what they thought.

“I need to be angry David! That's all I have, it's all I have. I need it. I need it to be strong, it's how I live!”

David was a teacher

A great one

Because he cares

Even if it wasn't always obvious

But at this moment Tank could see it clearly

David stepped closer wanting to be some comfort

Tank stepped back.

They weren't scared

Not of David

Just what he was trying to do

As much as they wanted to turn around and run away, never returned.

David was right

He always was

And they were in the best position they've ever been in their life.

They were stronger and still learning

They were surrounded by people who wanted that

Who helped them both as a fighter and a person

They were surrounded by friends

They didn't notice when tears started to flood their eyes

They refused to notice the tears

They got quieter

They don't remember the last time they were this vulnerable

Or just vulnerable

“It's how I got away David”

David stayed still

He could understand to an extent

They needed to be heard

He knew any interruptions could make them run.

so he stayed still.

“I can't let the anger go, as soon as I do I'm done. So don't, don't tell me that the problem.”

David let the silence settle

Tank sniffled

When David felt it was safe he spoke

“ You don't have to let it go”

Tank scoffs

“ You don't. How badly do you want this? To be a fighter, a great fighter?”

The energy in the room shifted

“I need it, David”

Tank's voice was almost desperate. David knew they wanted to say more but something stopped them.

“ Then you have to listen to me. Don't let go of your anger, it will be useful. Store it, let it build. Let it build and use it when needed. You don't need to be angry at Milo, Asher, or sweetheart. You need to save that anger for a real fight, when your dignity is on the line when your opponent doesn't see you as a worthy opponent. For now, you store it. While you learn how to fight without it.”

For a minute the tension in the gym was suffocating.

Then Tank laughed and smiled at David

“That's the Best advice you've ever given”

David's lips lifted, just enough for Tank to consider it a smile

“Thanks, my dad said something similar when I was young. So it's mostly his advice.”

“ don't sell yourself short, David.”

“You're one to talk.”

The two stood there with partial grins. The conversation was over, it was clear to both of them yet no one was leaving.

David was expecting Tank to leave, everyone else was gone, and the gym was officially closed

“Do you need something else?”

David asked with his normal amount of annoyance in his voice

“No”

Tank answered

“ then you are free to go”

Tank's face changed to one of realization, though David thought it to be one of exhaustion

Tank finally looked away and made their way toward their bag. Once they grabbed it they headed to the door.

David right behind to lock it after they left.

Tank grabbed the handle and pulled before letting go and spinning around rather quickly.

“ David, I don't want to leave”

David was reaching his limit for the day, he didn't want to play any more games with Tank.

“Too bad, I'm kicking you out, go home.”

David reached around and opened the door for Tank. The cold hit him quickly as he stood outside waiting for Tank.

But they just stood there

“That's the thing, David, I don't have a home.”

Even though they had a strange lightheartedness, almost joking tone to their voice. David was fast to take this confession seriously. He slowly walked back in allowing the door to close

Intimidated and scared, Tank backed further into the building and started to overshare

“Ive been staying here. I don't use anything that's not mine. I just sleep.”

David held down his distaste about Tank staying before asking. He wanted to focus on the fact that they were in need.

“You can continue to stay here, just make sure you clean up before anyone shows up. And for future reference don't ever do shit like that behind my back.”

“ Of course, the first time it was an accident. Still sorry for not asking. I don't really make enough to pay you what I should but I do have some-”

“ no, I don't need your money Tank.”

“But I-”

“You staying here doesn't change how much rent or utilities cost, that is as long as you aren't taking extra showers or anything. So I don't need the money, you just save up while you stay here so that you can get a place.”

“Thanks, David”

“Yeah, no problem. Ive got some paperwork to do in my office. I'll lock up now and say goodbye before I go.”

[m1d-45]

saw the sad kazuha fic and I'm just thinking what if we forgive them but not because we love or genuinely think they deserve it but because we're afraid of what they'll do if we don't forgive them. Ignore this if you dont wanna

under duress

a/n: i know i said asks were delayed… anyway sorry if this isn’t what you wanted but thanks for the request!

-> warnings: spoilers for mondstat + liyue archon quests as well as for childe lore/story quest, childe is his own warning in this one, very obsessive behavior, not sure if it’s a direct match but yandere behavior, including mentions of violence resulting from it(mentions of blood, death to unnamed minor characters, nothing too graphic but it is there). post-imposter au, but no mentions of injuries on/to you, past or present. they are a borderline cult to be honest

-> lowercase intended!

desperation is dangerous.

it fueled you as you ran, escaping the characters you once loved. it lit the fire in your soul that burned brighter every time you had to look around you and know that the entire world, so familiar yet so foreign, was against you.

you weren’t a fool. you knew the lengths that they would go to for their gods. you knew firsthand the time and effort they would dedicate for a chance at being in favor.

and you were afraid.

it was almost as if you had never been recognized, in some sick way. your heart still picked up in fear, you still kept your eyes down and head low, your words were still short and clipped if even there. then, you were desperate to survive. to keep on. to live for one more day, one more hour, any minute a new chance to try and find a way out of here and back home.

(home. you used to call this world your home. how bitter a word.)

now, you’re hoping for time alone. you wake up, in a bed that by all measures should be comfortable, still exhausted and unrested. somebody knocks at your door as you prepare to leave your room, and you halfheartedly respond. another day filled with people who want your attention, no matter the cost.

even if the price is your comfort.

breakfast is.. fine. barbatos—he told you to call him venti, once upon a time, but you refuse to associate that happy bard with.. this—is telling a story you don’t bother to listen to, instead watching his hands dance across the strings of his lyre. you’re not fooled by their delicate nature, the graceful arcs of his fingers only a mask for what you know he’s capable of.

news of a murder travels fast, after all.

there are people asking for your audience, he says. you know, you reply.

people always want you to listen.

you remember when you were first shown the palace that they’d created for you, remember as morax and focalors showed you the cor lapis jewelry, the gold inlays and marble tiles. a true show of power and wealth. fitting for the creator, the archons say. our gift to you in return, they add.

the two had rambled on and on, bouncing off each other seamlessly, talking about how he’d suggested this ore for that, or that she’d wanted this for you.

you.

they say it’s all for you. everything. they claim to dedicate their lives to you, they say that everything they did and will do is for you, all of it for you, you, you. if you mention you like something, no matter how offhand, they trip over themselves to get it for you. every gift, every offering, every carefully chosen sentence and supposedly comforting smile is all for you. all because of you.

it’s not.

any expression of discomfort is met not with an apology of their behavior, but of your surroundings. ‘we’re sorry our gifts are not to your liking,’ rather than we’re sorry we interrupted your walk.’ ‘what can we do for your forgiveness?’ rather than ‘what do you need?’

you could feel the same spark of fear light up your chest every time one of them approached you. the frenzied pledges of devotion and loyalty always seemed to extend beyond rationality, and though you had no doubt in your mind that they wouldn’t hurt you—at least not intentionally—that same security did not extend to others- or even themselves.

childe, on one knee, what you’re certain is a well-rehearsed speech flowing off of his bloodstained lips. you don’t know what he’s saying, and don’t plan to listen. you know him, his character, and though you wanted to believe against all odds that he was truly ajax, not rotted to his core by the abyss, it’s clear that was the case.

he pledges to slaughter anybody that ever crosses you. you have a feeling he’s already started, judging by the darker patches on his hair.

when did this happen? when had quiet admiration turn into manic worship? when did they stop acting sugar-sweet and kind?

(you wonder if that was ever the case. if the faces you saw and adored through a screen were ever the real ones. had they simply put up a front? had they put on a show for you, to convince you that they were kind, good people, only to turn and reveal their true nature once you were in their grasp?

not for the first time, your mind turns to the throne you’re sitting on. had they made a new one, or was this the same one they killed the ‘false god’ upon? would they tell you if you asked?)

childe calls your name, and you blink. he’s looking up at you, now, his eyes too soft a shade of blue to be attached to somebody like him.

you don’t forgive him. you say you do. the smile that forms gets blood on his teeth.

desperation kept you alive.

and now it will kill you.

[mr-payjay]

feel free to complain to me about the ii finale <3 i'm all ears

thank you ellie :)

fair warning for ii neg, especially on the latest episode.

prefacing this with saying: I LOVE INANIMATE INSANITY!!!!!! inanimate insanity is my favourite show in the world and every episode leaves me full of joy and excitement. i adore criticizing it not out of hatred but out of genuine love. i enjoy every single episode i watch.

however, i find that iii19 has been the worst episode so far. it has gotten me the least hyped out of any episode in the series, which is saying a lot because i bounce off the walls at every episode no matter how much i end up criticizing it later. there are. so many problems i have with it. im gonna try and organize them the best i can, though i'll probably(?) edit this post later to insert anything i missed or forgot to say.

starting off positively: oj!!!! personally i am so glad he didn't talk in this episode. i was terrified of the idea of him having a new va. the spin was adorable, i loved his signature thumbs ups, and every time i saw him i squealed with delight. him voting for balloon also made me really happy! despite the grudge he's had against him for so long, he still sticks with him on this part. even after laughing at his death the episode before that

in general all the seasonwunners voted for balloon!! which makes me happy!!! paintbrush, nickel, balloon, and oj have all been there for the very beginning of season 1, three of them being there for every season. i love the inherent connection the contestants from season 1 have with each other. they've been together since inanimate insanity began and they're there for the end of season 3 too. very sweet.

onto more negative stuff! I CANNOT FUCKING BELIEVE WHAT THEY DID WITH SILVER SPOON AND CANDLEEE they set up something crazy in the last episode and then did NOTHING with it!!! they had silver spoon beat candle unconscious the second she said something that wasn't coddling him like the manchild he is and she STILL voted for him. where even was she for half of the episode?? they just left her lifeless corpse on the ground in iii18 and then she eventually got up in this episode and just. went back to the competition??? dogshit writing

okay now i wanna talk about cabby. I Don't Like Cabby Anymore. so from the very beginning i have loved cabby. she was extremely similar to me in fact! i have really bad memory issues and i tend to keep files on people and on things that i might forget about, as well as just to organize my thoughts and ideas. i loved her confidence, obsession with knowledge, and analytical personality at the start. i was pretty upset when the characters (mostly test tube lmao) started relentlessly bullying her, and i HATE the whole thing in spring on the breakfast where they try to demonize her files. it was kind of annoying when they tried to remedy it really quickly after that because it was clearly because of the backlash, but i was glad they at least tried to fix it. however, over the course of the series, she just felt like she was... becoming sadder? pitiful, honestly? she went from an awesome smart character who loved taking notes on people's behaviour and using that information to get better at the game into some kind of Sad Little Bullied Victim. she doesn't even feel like a character anymore to me, just a mouthpiece for the creators to write dramatic "cathartic" speeches through to prove they're Definitely Not Ableist. also what was the deal with her parents lmao they never brought that up again

aaaand this episode was generally written really badly. super fucking corny for one. they literally had a little dance party at the end like people make jokes about for stereotypical Kids' Shows. but my issue is more with like... the weird super fast character development? and the way they wrapped everything up as quickly as possible? something that bothered me was the tonal whiplash between zuwie voicing springy super hysterically and dramatically and then springy being fully redeemed within like the next 5 minutes and dying for mephone. Why did they even die for mephone. like as a character why would he of all people die for mephone. thats so fucking stupid. the rest of the voice acting felt completely different from springy's as well so it just made the effect worse. everyone's lines were really corny and felt so manufactured, like they would pull characters to mephone's side (losing my mind over all the contestants rooting for mephone like cmon man that guy sucks i just know oj at least would want him dead) with a short Cathartic Speech and everything would be fixed and lovely and peachy keen. its just painful to watch. everything feels really weirdly disjointed and badly put together, the flow is awful, the "danger" doesn't feel like there's any suspense to it at all, and every character gets fully redeemed for no good reason. even walkie talkie chats casually with mephone at the end as if they're good friends after they were HYSTERICALLY INSISTING ON MURDERING HIM? AND MAKING HIM WATCH HIS OWN DEATH?? idk if this will get explained in s2 but we still don't know who walkie talkie is, what their motive is, WHY they got redeemed, etc. we know nothing about them. and even if it will be explained later, i think it's shitty writing that NOTHING was explained in this season.

some extra stuff

- SO FUCKING GLAD THEY DIDN'T BRING HOTEL OJ INTO THIS I WOULD'VE CRIED IF THEY PUT SEASON 3 CHARACTERS INTO HOTEL OJ OR MADE IT ALL SLEEK AND S3 STYLE

- the "you can do this" thing at the end was fucking stupid man that was so corny (btw corny isn't always bad but jesus christ... this episode was just awful with it)

- could not feel any emotion towards the Emotional Parts but laughter and secondhand embarrassment

- HOW DID THEY GET THE FUNDING FOR A LIBRARY? I THOUGHT THE PROBLEM WAS THAT MEPHONE DIDN'T HAVE ANYTHING FOR A PRIZE HOW DID HE PAY FOR AN ENTIRE LIBRARY

- speaking of, why isn't oj back at the hotel. doesn't he have to manage it. wasn't paper having a ton of trouble managing it. why are all of them still on that fuckass island. did the library take like 5 minutes to build what the fuck

- ALSO!!! Why did they build a library in the middle of a deserted island

- i liked the short nickloon scene because im a nicklooner

- glad yinyang and candle got to talk

- test tube saying nearly nothing at all the entire episode except for sitting on the ground in a really stupid pose and apologizing to cabby made me laugh

- weirded out by tt and fan not talking to each other at all? not as a ship thing but like they're best friends aren't they

- really fucking annoyed by the fantube family picture at the end i hate fantube family leave that grown ass adult (bot) alone

- glad they didn't canonize any ships i was so scared about silvercandle and fantube

- 4s scene and s1 flashback was cool i love s1 so i got excited

- aaaaand i think my misogyny thread is relevant again. i should update it sometime because ii has only gotten worse about it lmao

- didn't like them making clover stupid for some reason like "is he talking about me?" come on

- oj not talking in these last two episodes is so glaringly unusual because he's never been able to shut his fucking mouth for even a minute

[sheisaquarius-blog]

hi! for anthony’s day can you do something with ianthony getting together with jealous!anthony? btw i love your fics you’re so talented!!!

OH BOY CAN I, I LOVE JEALOUS ANTHONY!!! i'm sure you wanted something sweet and fluffy, but i am on my usual bullshit and made it long and angsty OTL sorry!!! i hope it's still an enjoyable read! and it ends happy!

ps- sorry i'm late! if you sent me an anthony's day prompt and i haven't posted it yet, you WILL see it! i just over estimated how fast i can write, but i'm going to fill each and every one!

Anthony thinks a lot. Not that other people don’t, he just suspects that they have an easier time turning off the faucet of thoughts, or at least letting it fade into the white noise of their minds. Anthony has trouble with that. A lot of trouble. Every one of his thoughts is loud and demanding and takes up the limited space he has in his brain. Most of the time it doesn’t bother him because he’s learned to make peace with a lot of it. He’s learned to acknowledge those thoughts for what they are and control them, channel them. Pain and anxiety were hard, but he’s managed. He has outlets, mantras, things that keep him firmly in reality when those thoughts start to overwhelm his mind and make him burn from the inside out.

His real problem is jealousy. Its roots are wrapped so deep in his bones he’d need to pull back the layers of calcium to extract the tendrils from his marrow where they nestle and feed off him. Pain and anxiety are water, they rain on him, he could drown in them if he isn’t careful, but in the end, they are things that pour over him. He fears his jealousy has always grown out of him, is intrinsic to him.

He hides it well for most of his life. Not so well that no one notices, but well enough they think it’s just normal, average jealousy. A bit childish, maybe, but not the more sinister, dark, suffocating thing that’s truly inside him.

As he grows, he manages it well enough to not make it other people’s problems (most of the time), but it eats away at him in a way he can’t control.

Not everything spikes it. He doesn’t mind sharing the spotlight—in fact he greatly prefers it. He isn’t bothered by friends’ accomplishments—those are their own.

What does bother him is singular attention. That’s the best way he knows how to put it. For an audience, Anthony would much rather be a part of something than the whole; he built two channels out of that. Smosh isn’t a one man show, and interviews don’t work very well with just one person, but when it comes to being the most important thing to one single person, Anthony is not particularly willing to share.

He's jealous in relationships, he knows that. It’s caused plenty of arguments. It worries him, he doesn’t want to be toxic, but he needs to be the most important thing to them. He can feel himself choking on his jealousy when things change and he isn’t that precious thing anymore. It��s a slow death he suffers through each time.

Apparently, that goes double for business partners because Anthony truly, genuinely worried he was going to suffocate when Anthony asked Ian to leave with him and he didn’t. His body felt hollow and burned through, like everything important in him was drained.

He’s gotten marginally better in their years apart. He doesn’t think he’s any less jealous, but he lets his flares bounce back against himself rather than out at other people.

Damn if it doesn’t catch him off guard every once in a while, though, which is how Anthony ends up breathing through his teeth at a dark, loud, too-cool party, watching Ian laugh at someone’s joke across the room as some guy clasps his shoulder to keep from doubling over.

Anthony already hates parties. It’s a manageable hate, but he does. This, though—watching Ian laugh and smile and talk and treasure someone else makes that jealousy rip through him, choking him by the throat like a fucked-up willow is trying to grow out of there. He wants to leave, except he doesn’t, because then he has to leave Ian and, well, he did that once already. He isn’t sure he’ll get a third chance. Ian does catch his eye, and there’s something of a balm for that awful thing inside him. It’s blue eyes that see him. He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until Ian crosses the dark room towards him.

“Hey,” Ian says. “You ready to go?”

Anthony shakes his head. He can’t make himself say the word ‘no,’ it’s too big of a lie, but he can deal with this for Ian’s sake. He has Ian’s attention right now, so he could endure a lot worse to keep it.

Ian takes a sip of his drink without letting his eyes leave Anthony, bright blue in this dark room. “Well, I think I’m done, but we can hang here if you want, I guess.” Anthony can’t lie, but he’s jealous. Ian isn’t jealous, but he can lie. Like a snake eating its own tail, chasing itself in circles.

“You don’t have to be done,” Anthony says. His eyes flicker to that guy Anthony definitely knows of but can’t name, who’s staring at Ian across the way, a little longing and a little awestruck. He doesn’t blame him, but he doesn’t forgive him either. “But maybe we should get some air?” he suggests.

Ian nods. “Sure.”

They wander outside together, past loud conversation and louder music, into the much lighter LA night air. A breeze rustles through the patio and it makes Anthony aware of how warm he was inside, catching on the light sheen of sweat on his skin. Ian sighs and leans against the side of the house-slash-mansion. It’s quiet between them, but Anthony likes it, until those gnarled fingers dig into him, and he starts to wonder: is Ian here with him or still back inside?

“Who was that?” he asks casually.

Ian rubs under the bridge of his glasses. “Theo? I dunno, I guess he’s, like, a food guy or something. I met him guesting on a podcast last year.”

“Cool,” Anthony says. “Yeah, I was surprised he remembered me.” Anthony nods. He exhales through his nose, but he doesn’t feel like he’s breathing.

Ian shrugs. “We really can go if you want. I’m pretty much done here.”

“Pretty much?” Anthony asks before he can stop himself.

Ian gives him a look. Anthony thinks he should be able to read it, there’s something so direct in Ian’s gaze. “Just a figure of speech. C’mon, let’s just go.”

Anthony can’t help himself; this is where his jealousy is layered too deep, this is his instinct, his nature. “You wanna say bye to Theo first?”

“No,” Ian says without a second thought or a moment of hesitation, like Anthony wasn’t just the brattiest, pettiest person he knows. “He’s fine without me, Anthony.”

“He didn’t look fine when you left.”

“Ok, fine. Well, I don’t care what he looked like. Enough, Anthony. I’m right here.”

Anthony doesn’t say anything. He can still taste that bitter blackness on his tongue.

Ian rolls his eyes. “Your dramatic ass is gonna be the end of me one day,” he mutters, more to himself than anything, then he grabs Anthony’s shirt and pulls him in.

That’s how Anthony ends up kissing Ian for the first time against cool stone at a party he doesn’t want to be at because he can’t keep his jealousy in check. Anthony is probably always going to be jealous, always going to have that bitter, rotten ugliness in there, always going to have to fight it. But maybe it was more to do with missing something he needed. Maybe he’s been trying to feed something that doesn’t want him, or maybe Ian just makes it gentler. Either way, as they break apart, that sharp, craving ache inside Anthony’s bones eases just a bit.

“Dumbass,” Ian smirks, only inches from his face, eyes wandering all over his face like he can’t get enough of Anthony’s stupefied expression.

Anthony swallows, and it tastes like Ian. The beast in his stomach tears into it hungrily, finally sated.

“So, two options,” Ian says. “We leave right now, just bolt for the car. Or,” he takes Anthony’s hand in his, “we go say goodbye to Theo together.”

Anthony can barely process what Ian’s saying, there’s so much room to breathe in his chest, things feel so easy, like all his bones have snapped into alignment. He tries, though, and Ian is patient for him. Before he answers, he kisses Ian again, feels him shift against the side of the house to get closer, to touch more of him, like he wants to be near that deep, ugly, choking jealousy.

“Fuck Theo,” Anthony breathes when they part.

Ian shakes his head. “Nah. Just you.” Anthony laughs. “Okay,” he agrees, leaning in for one more kiss. “Okay.”

[tender-emotional-music]

I'm confused as some may see Mike and El potentially having a big happy making out scene as something positive for the byler just because it is parallel (another) with other ships like Stancy. Like, it doesn’t matter that this is another big parallel? Jonathan and Nancy, after Stancy’s biggest scene, became a couple only after a season and a half, and all this time the conflict between Nancy and Steve became stronger. By the way, i’m not trying to somehow erase the evidence of the byler, I’m just confused because this particular parallel simply doesn’t make sense as a positive one simply because the context of the story is different from what Stancy had..

Hi anon! Thanks for the ask. This’ll be a bit long lmao

Honestly I don’t even think that leak is real anyway, so I’m not paying much mind to it when it comes to my own theories. There really isn’t much context, so it’s kind of difficult to extrapolate much based off of it.

Personally, I just can’t really imagine the show putting that sort of scene in there. I think people are drawing those parallels because makeout scenes aren’t really the show’s style, unless it’s to communicate something negative. Sta/ncy is performative and lacks genuineness, Bob dies, and Mike and El’s s3 scene is uncomfortable to watch, is shot to be vaguely voyeuristic, and is undercut with Hopper’s discomfort. So to answer your question, I guess that’s the theme people are picking up on when they say it could be a parallel. However, I agree that people turning it around into something positive for byler are also doing a lot of assumption of context in order to place it among their pre-existing theories, so it’s hard to tell all round.

As I’ve said though, I truly don’t think it’s real. I find it hard to place how it would work in the season on the whole, especially since Mike and El don’t appear to have many scenes together past the first episode, since we know Finn and Millie are on extremely different schedules. They’re playing so coy about it too and just seem to be bouncing ideas off each other, so I don’t think it comes from a genuine source. And of course this comes up right after that love interest “leak” for Will 🙄 (I don’t think rejectedscooper, who said that, is legit either, for the record).

So yeah, it doesn’t surprise me that people are trying to figure out how it would work into their theories, and there definitely is a pattern with how the show portrays these things, but without context there is no way to know, and I’m really not going to trust this leak when Mike and El aren’t spending the majority of the season together, it seems to be at odds with what we know about their storylines moving forward, and the source is dyersfilms of all people and “I saw it with my own eyes.” Be fr

[fallowtail]

Top 5 Hetty outfits - jk ahem. Top 5 ghosts dynamics?

Oh this is rough their dynamics are all SO good....aahhhh ok. Ok. Going to try my best to fight my brain fog and lack of articulation skills to briefly explain why I chose them! These aren't in order either because that'd be just too evil, lol. Ok.

...I'M DOING SIX YOU CAN'T STOP ME because I accidentally wrote six of these because I miscounted and I don't want to delete one that I already wrote up, lol

Hetty and Trevor ...ok, this one is obvious, but they're just. So. Weird. In a way that you don't expect but that works absolutely perfectly. They're so similar when you get down to it and they bounce off of each other hilariously, I feel like that scene from Isaac's book where Hetty has created a scheme, and is so proud of herself for how devious she is, while Trevor rolls his eyes because he knows how stupid it is but he is still going along with it anyway because he knows if he does she'll give him a treat later (which she does!) sums up their dynamic really well. I love that they butt heads so much and think they have nothing in common when they so clearly do, lol. The way he's slowly shifted into being fondly amused by her vs aggravated is really cute- the way they're both so enthusiastic about what they get up to in the basement is so sweet, Trevor actively wanting Hetty to open up to him, to talk to him and be silly and let loose...that fond little smile she makes at him when he's being a goober during the pillow talk scene. Ugh. They do genuinely like each other but are just so stuck in their ideas about what they should want that they dig their heels in. This is the one I am the most mad about not being able to properly explain how I feel because there is just. SO. MUCH. Going on there with them. Why am I not good at writing, AHHH

Isaac and Hetty THE BESTIES! Oh Isaac and Hetty are just sooo funny like he watched her live her entire life, they are best friends, the two of them both think they run the house but they constantly default back to each other and are usually the only ones the other will listen to, he tried to romance her and then told her he was gay, he enables her bad behavior, he both refuses to take romantic advice from her but also desperately wants her advice, he deeply loves her but very clearly thinks there is something wrong with her, they have dates where they just stare out the window for hours, she clings to him constantly like he's a security blanket, she envies his ability to find love but also kind of hates his boyfriend who she encouraged him to get together with LOL, they're gossip besties, they both deeply crave the others approval, Isaac being happy Hetty found her stableboy but also not being sure why she's chosen Trevor, like. Oh my god. I love Isaac and Hetty so much that I can't find the words even more than the others. They're just so, so, so perfect together and you can always see Brandon and Rebeccas best friendship come through with these two, their scenes are always my favorite.

Sam and Hetty Wow, I wonder if there's gonna be a trend here with which dynamics I enjoy the most because it involves my blorbo, hmmm Something about Sam and Hetty finding family within each other and wanting to learn from their past mistakes and heal from their family damage with each other and then still falling into those same patterns they did in life but with the desire to fix it this time when they realize is so interesting. I love how even in the pilot Hetty warms up to the idea of her moving into the mansion so quickly despite claiming otherwise, and that even in as latest as the Halloween episode you can see them butting heads over Hetty's need to manage people to express care because she thinks she knows best and if she knows best, why wouldn't she tell people how to get what they want? And Sam lashing out when people do that to her because she wants her accomplishments to be her own and for someone to be proud of her for what she does.

Hetty and Flower and Alberta Look I said there was gonna be a trend but I'm squeezing the Lady Ghost Society into one group so that my last 3 answers aren't all for them, lol. The way the lady ghosts interact is so fun and I love that they're all different- Hetty and Alberta being all over each other this season despite their huge conflict at the end of s2, the way Flower and Alberta were the ones who volunteered to be roommates originally, Flower not realizing Hetty didn't understand what good sexual stimulation felt like and then being distraught when she realized Hetty didn't know what happened to her on the washing machine and Hetty feeling comfortable enough to come to Flower to confess her sins and Flower helping her work through it, Alberta having forgotten Flower's name in season 1 but then in season 2 she's the one who makes sure Flower remembers what her name is, it's just so...!! The fact they have a Lady Ghost Society Council is so cute too, oh my god.

Isaac and Trevor Oh my god one that doesn't involve Hetty, what the hell Isaac and Trevor are so interesting...they're kind of similar to H-Money in that on paper you don't think they'd get along, but their interactions are so?? I think Isaac envies Trevor in a way because he's so easily "one of the guys" which is all Isaac ever wanted, buuuut he also thinks Trevor is kind of an idiot, lmfao, because Isaac just thinks everyone in the house except for him and Hetty aren't particularly intelligent I think. (Also he can't get past the pants thing.) Trevor and Isaac both so very, very desperately, just want people to like them, both of them make up these stories about cool things they did to fit the persona they so badly want the others to believe...The Liquor License is such a good episode for them, the way Trevor is content to tease Isaac when he thinks Isaac is having fun doing his snooty thing but then as soon as he realizes Isaac got left alone he goes to find him...they're just really, really fun to pair up together and I'm looking forward to this next episode with them being a duo! You can really see Brandon and Asher's friendship shine through in their scenes together.

Isaac and Sam Isaac and Sam's relationship is so weird and I absolutely love it. Isaac shadowing Sam all day in the new episode and kind of making fun of her "Yogaaaa!", them doing yoga together and her ditching him when he fell asleep...there was an interview back in December where Rose talks about the Sam and Isaac dynamic and how weird it is saying Sam just really seems to want to serve him and his best interests and that there's something going on with Sam for her to want that out of Isaac LOL, she really does seem to cave into him the most out of any of the ghosts because something in her just seems to want to impress him? But at the same time he annoys her. It's fascinating. That little heart to heart they had about not needing outside approval but then immediately dropping it as soon as they got approval for her book was SO funny and they really just want everyone to like them and be proud of them and it makes for such a fun relationship to explore.

Phew! Ok, that was long, and I'm frustrated I can't properly say what I actually want to say or feel for any of these but hopefully that all comes across decent enough! <3

Ask me my top 5 anything game!

[supernovafics]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

pairing: dylan o’brien x best friend fem!reader

summary: in which dylan has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. your busy lives and schedules may have pushed both of your lives in vastly different directions as you’d gotten older, but somehow you two would always be led back to your hometown, and each other, during the holidays. however, one moment causes all of that to change. 

warnings: angst (what else is new), some fluffiness, mentions of past trauma (the maze runner incident), existential crises, explicit language

word count: 3.6k words

author’s note: idk why i decided to write something christmas related in the summer but it happened lmao (also i feel like it’s slightly important to mention that this takes place in 2016)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The rocks being thrown at your window were not what woke you up. Instead, you had been lying awake for hours; getting little to no sleep was something that you had become used to at this point.

However, on this specific night— or morning, depending on how one looked at it— you were glad that your sleep had been restless once again because it made it easy for you to get out of bed and walk to your window when the rocks began hitting it.

There was really no need for you to push open the curtains and check who was doing the throwing because, of course, it was Dylan. Ever since he moved onto your street in Hermosa Beach in middle school and the two of you easily became friends, he was the only person that would ever wake you up in the middle of the night with the soft pings of rocks, especially on this specific day at this specific time.

You waved at him and gestured that you would be down in a moment. You slipped on a random pair of sweatpants along with a hoodie and then placed the Christmas gift that you bought for him in the pocket. The item was small enough to fit in the not too big pocket of your hoodie; however, it did awkwardly protrude a bit.

All of this was a sort of unspoken tradition that the pair of you had developed over the many years you’d known each other. Meeting at five in the morning on Christmas day, walking to the beach that was only a few blocks away from your respective childhood homes, and exchanging Christmas gifts with each other as you both watched the sunrise. It started when you were in ninth grade, and you hadn't missed a year since, not even when the ending of high school pushed your lives in vastly different directions, especially since Dylan graduated a year before you and was almost immediately thrust into his acting career.

But, it didn't matter that Dylan's career took off, and you eventually decided to go to college in Santa Barbara, because, no matter what, you both would always come back for the holidays.

When you opened your front door and saw Dylan lingering by the sidewalk no more than ten feet away, you were quick to go toward him and pull him in for a tight embrace. It actually hadn't been too long since you’d last seen him, maybe only five or six months, but for some reason, it still felt as if the last time he was in front of you was last December.

"Hey," Dylan breathed out in a short greeting, his arms wounding around your waist.

“Hey to you too," You responded, a small smile gracing your features when you both pulled away, and you looked up at him. "How have you been?"

It was quiet for a few moments as you waited for him to answer the question, but eventually, you were met with no verbal response, and instead, Dylan simply shrugged. The short action made your heart constrict in the most painful way, and it was then that you noticed the light remnants of a scar peeking out from behind his dark hair that covered the majority of his forehead. You were quick to peel your eyes away from the scar and instead cast them down at your Converse-covered feet, but that didn't stop the memories from quickly coming back.

The Maze Runner accident had happened back in March, but to you, and you knew to Dylan as well, it felt as if it was just yesterday, especially considering the fact that he was still dealing with the unavoidable repercussions from it.

"Wanna walk?" You asked, finally looking up at him once again.

Dylan nodded. "Yeah."

A silence that could only be deemed as comfortable lingered between them as the two of you took the five-minute walk to the beach and sat down side by side on one of the random empty benches.

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," Dylan said as he handed a present over to you. The present was messily wrapped, something that was not at all uncommon when receiving gifts from Dylan, and the sight of it made you smile.

Before you unwrapped the gift, you pulled out the one you had for him and handed it over. "Merry Christmas, Dyl."

The nostalgic sound of wrapping paper ripping could be heard as you tore into your gift. A simultaneous shocked and happy yelp emitted from your lips when you held up a Harry Potter t-shirt. But, it wasn't just any Harry Potter t-shirt; it was one with a version of the Goblet of Fire movie poster on it, which was your all-time favorite movie in the series.

"Holy shit."

"It's the original merch that was sold when the movie came out," Dylan told you. He hadn't opened his gift yet, and instead, he was playing with the green bow placed on top of it; he always liked to see your reaction first.

You looked at Dylan and then back down at the shirt as you processed his words. "Wow, double holy shit. I would put it on if it wasn't freezing right now."

Dylan laughed a bit. "Very understandable."

“Why haven't you opened yours yet? I'm dying to see what you think of it," You said. You were now holding the t-shirt to your chest, genuinely feeling like a little kid on Christmas morning again.

Dylan finally began unwrapping your gift to him, and when all of the paper was peeled off, there was a square box. "Aw, a plain white box. Thank you so much. This is what I've always wanted."

You rolled your eyes and playfully bumped him with your shoulder. "Ha ha. Please save all of these bad jokes for your stand-up act; I can't wait to boo you off the stage along with everyone else."

"So, what I'm hearing is you don't think that becoming a comedian is going to be the next best career move for me?" Dylan asked. He attempted to make the question sound as serious as possible, but there was a joking undertone to his words.

You bit back your laughter. "Please just open the box already so I don't have to hurt your feelings by truthfully answering that question."

"Okay, we'll circle back to that topic later," Dylan smiled and then finally opened the white box to reveal a slightly faded baseball. When he picked it up, he ran his thumb over the black signature written on it. "Now it's my turn to say holy shit."

You could feel yourself smiling at his awestruck reaction, and you wondered if that was what you looked like when you saw the Harry Potter shirt. The baseball was signed by one of the players of the New York Mets that had been Dylan's favorite player when he was younger, and he'd even caught a ball hit by him when he went to a game before he moved to California.

"I've had this idea for years, but I could never find a baseball signed by him," You began explaining, the excitement clear in your voice. "But, last month, someone named Paul Todd posted this on eBay and I immediately bought it. God bless that old man. It's completely authentic and everything."

Dylan was quiet for a few moments as he simply looked at the baseball in his hands, a small joyful smile on his face, and it made you happy to see him so genuinely elated with the present.

"This just made my gift look like shit," He finally said, a light laugh falling from his lips.

"I have always been the superior gift giver. I think that's my hidden talent," You responded with a playful smirk.

Dylan placed the baseball back in its box and then looked at you. "Next year you will receive the best gift ever from me. It will completely top everything that you have ever given me."

"You're saying that as if I should feel upset about receiving a trip to Italy as a Christmas gift."

"A trip to Italy?"

"In my strong opinion, that would be the best gift ever," You said with a smile and then looked down at the t-shirt, which was now in your lap. "But, anyway, I don't think this gift is shit. I'm in love with this shirt already."

Dylan let out a joking, overexaggerated sigh in relief. "Phew, okay, since you think this gift is great, that means I don't have to do the trip to Italy next year."

"What? Did I say I like this t-shirt? I hate it! Harry Potter actually su— Fuck, I can't say this with a straight face," You laughed, and Dylan was quick to join in with you.

The joking statements leading up to the laughter hadn't even been the funniest things ever, but it didn't matter because this was probably the hardest you had laughed in a while, and you were both glad and unsurprised that it was with one of your favorite people in the entire world.

You missed joking around and laughing with him. You missed simply being with him.

Eventually, the laughter died off, but there was still a smile planted firmly on your face. You looked ahead at the darkness in front of you and the ocean that looked completely black; it was still kind of early, so the sun hadn't begun to rise just yet. Your back pressed against the wooden bench, and you let out a small sigh, your head finding Dylan's shoulder as you leaned against him.

"How have you been?" You asked him, your words coming out both soft and slightly quiet, and before the mood became too serious with your question that was nothing but serious, you attempted to lighten it. "And please no shrugs as a response this time. I don't wanna get a headache due to my head bouncing off your shoulder."

Dylan let out a breath of a laugh at your final statements but refrained from answering the question for a few moments.  

After what felt like forever, he sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "I honestly don't know. My mind has felt so fucked lately, thinking about everything. I swear I've been feeling every feeling known to man these past months."

"What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

"I'm really happy with you. This is probably the only normal and familiar thing I've experienced in a while. But, of course, there's still that confused feeling in the back of my mind revolving around everything else." He paused for a brief moment before continuing, his next words came out quieter. "I don't even know if I want to go back to acting."

You lifted your head off his shoulder and looked at him as you pulled his hand into yours and gave it a light, reassuring squeeze.

"No matter what you decide. I'll be right there to support you," You told him and then added a "bro" at the end of her sentence along with a small smile. Whenever things became too deep in a conversation you two were having, one of you would always throw a "bro" or "dude" in there to bring some playfulness to the mood.

The corners of Dylan's perked up a bit. "So, you'll support me when I decide to become a comedian?"

You were unable to stifle your light laughter. "Yes, fine, fuck it. I'll be the loudest one laughing at all of your shows."

Dylan squeezed your hand back because he knew exactly how reluctantly true your words were. "Don't worry, I promise not to put you through that."

"Thank you."

"So, how have you been?"

"No."

"Oh, come on," Dylan said as he playfully poked your side. "I'm not gonna be the only one exposing my feelings."

You sighed and then hesitantly nodded. "Okay, okay."

The truth was you had been far from good lately. Your life was moving, but for some reason, you felt like you weren’t moving with it.

You felt stuck.

Stuck in a confusing mindset where you had absolutely no idea what you wanted to do with your life. You thought that identity crises usually happened in high school, but apparently, yours had come five years late. But, you knew that this delayed identity crisis had been your own doing because you had convinced herself that you would figure everything out once you were in college; and you were both lucky and smart enough to receive a full ride to UCSB.

And although you were finishing up your Master's degree in Creative Writing and had a TA job at the university with the department, which was the reason behind why you could even pay for the Master's program, something in your "should be great" life simply did not feel right.

However, you felt absolutely terrified to say any of that out loud because admitting it would only finally make that statement a wholehearted truth, instead of just a spiraling thought in your mind. And even though Dylan was your best friend and you knew you could tell him anything and not receive any sort of judgment, it still felt hard to let the words leave your lips.

You thought about the way to perfectly word everything, but nothing felt right. You pulled your hand away from Dylan's and covered your face as you let out an exasperated breath. "I can't figure how to say it all."

Dylan placed an arm around you and then mimicked the same question you had asked him not too long ago. "What are you feeling right now? In this moment?"

You would have both laughed and smiled at the fact that he was using your exact words if the current circumstances were different.

"Scared," You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what the fuck I wanna do anymore, and actually, I don't think I really ever did. I only went to college because of the scholarship, and I convinced myself that I would figure my life out when I got there. And for a while, things felt right because I found creative writing and genuinely enjoyed it, but something doesn't feel right anymore. And I actually do like school. Because it's stable, and I am doing things, even if it's taking a dumbass test. But, it's about to be over soon, and I have no idea what I'm gonna do."

Your words were coming out like vomit, and nothing could stop it because finally, everything you had been feeling for so long was out of your head and put into the open.

"And don't get me wrong, I do love to write, but I don't know, I just can't see myself doing it for the rest of my life," You admitted and then let your next words come out quietly. "Honestly, I can't see myself doing anything. I'm so unhappy here."

You did not say it aloud, but you didn't think you were ever fully content there. Aside from Dylan and your parents, you never truly liked California. You had grown up there all your life, and although there were millions of people that adored the state, you felt the exact way someone from a state like Wyoming probably felt.

Dylan did not verbally respond to your long confession at first; instead, he simply pulled your confused and stressed self in for a hug, and you let out the simultaneous sigh and breath that you had been metaphorically holding in for years at this point.

"Maybe you should take a break," Dylan finally said; his arms were still around you, an action that made you feel completely comforted. "Right after high school, you went straight to college, and I don't think you've ever really taken a break to really think about what you actually want. Like, maybe, it's becoming a zookeeper."

Your laugh was slightly muffled by the fact that your face was pressed into the warmth of Dylan's chest. "Zookeeper?"

"I don't know," He laughed too. "You said you would support me in whatever the fuck I decide to do, and I'll do the exact same for you."

Somehow a smile found its way on your face. "A zookeeper and a comedian. What a fucking dream team."

Another laugh fell from Dylan's lips. "The best fucking dream team."

"But, honestly, I wish I could've known sooner that this is how you've been feeling. I would've been telling you to slow down so long ago, but you seemed content with everything," Dylan told you and gave you another light squeeze. "Please take a break and don't stress yourself out over the future when your next semester is over. Just relax for the first time. You can even come stay with me in LA for a little bit if that's where you wanna take your break. I'll be here for you, Y/N. Always."

Something about his words hit you hard. The wholehearted honesty and sincerity behind his statement shouldn't have surprised you, but it did. And the worry he had for you resembled the same concern you had for him when the accident happened. You two were best friends, so it should not have been a shock that you would worry about each other, but still, in that moment and for you, it was shocking because it felt like so much more than just that.

"Me too," You whispered, finally responding to his previous statement.

The long embrace came to an end with you being the one to pull away; however, you did not pull away far enough for you both to become completely detached from one another. Dylan's arms were still around your waist, and yours were still around the nape of his neck, and your faces were dangerously close. Your hand somehow took on a mind of its own as it reached around and cupped Dylan's cheek. The miniscule confusion and tickle of panic that began to prick at the back of your mind because of the action were not enough to make you pull away.

The slight way that Dylan leaned into your soft touch was the catalyst for you to take the leap and lean in the tiniest bit to close the small distance between the two of you, your lips almost too easily finding his. The inward sigh of contentment you emitted when Dylan almost immediately kissed you back made you realize that kissing him was the one thing currently happening in your life that actually felt right.

Later, when thinking back to that specific moment, you would wonder if that "rightness" had always been there between you both.

However, that right feeling, which was both comfortable and familiar, was quickly replaced with dread and angst, at least on your part. Your mind was beginning to fully catch up with your actions, and it immediately told you that the current action was both bad and stupid, and there were many, many reasons that proved that.

Maybe there were moments where a younger, and even present-day, you did want more to happen between you and Dylan, but you would always push that thought away because you knew that your and Dylan's friendship was so much more valuable.

And then it was the fact that your lives were nothing alike. Even though you were immensely confused about where your life was going, you could say for certain that it wasn't going in the same direction as Dylan's; an acting career that he genuinely loved and enjoyed too much to truly give up. Something deep down told you that, and you could feel the truthfulness behind the thought. The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect.

You abruptly pulled away, not just from the kiss but from Dylan's body entirely, moving to the edge of the bench you were on. Your hands covered your face in nothing but pure embarrassment and regret, and you wished that you could take back the last minute and a half of your life. And you also absolutely hated that you couldn't help but notice how much colder your body felt now that it was away from Dylan's.

"Oh my God. I'm sorry. Fuck. That kiss— it was a mistake. I'm really sorry." Your words came out rushed and fumbled, and it probably did not make much sense, but you just hoped that there was at least a little bit of coherency with them.

As much as you wanted to look at Dylan, you refused to do so because you knew that you would only see the regret you were feeling written clear across his face.

"Hey, it's okay, Y/N. Everything's fine. Don't worry," You heard him say but could hear the uncertainty in his voice as if he really didn't know if everything truly was fine. And you knew that it wasn’t. It really wasn’t.

The holidays were the only time your lives would truly intersect, and you had just completely ruined that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts <3

((((already potentially thinking about doing a part 2 to this….. but idk…))))

[bookishofalder]

Rainy Days

Spencer x Reader

Request: @starwithoutdarkness - Hey! I heard you were looking for requests! Maybe Spencer Reid x reader fake dating fluff? Combined with Request: @paulaern  - Hello!  What about Spencer Reid x reader when they realizes they love each other? Like reader makes something for Spencer and he thinks like "I can't deny anymore, I'm completely and hopeless in love with her" or something like that  (G!neutral if you want)

A/N: Thank you so much for sending in requests! Hope this makes you smile!

Warnings: Swearing, moderate BAU violence, creepy men, fluffiest fluff, intense headache description. Set randomly post prison Reid but Hotch is still there because he should have been! WC-2,488

Spencer was staring at the geo-profile he had been working on all day, very glad to be inside. The weather in Seattle had stayed consistently rainy for the two days the BAU team had been in town assisting in catching a killer, who had been committing serial robberies/murders with no apparent rhyme or reason. And while Spencer didn’t mind the rain, he did mind loud, busy cities. Combined, they usually led to a headache that would take a day or two to recover.

The door to the conference room he was working alone in burst open and slammed shut so suddenly he nearly jumped out of his skin, turning to see-

You.

Spencer hated it when you appeared without warning, catching him entirely off guard and presenting the risk that you would notice the visible effort it took for him to compose himself around you.

While he’d noticed how beautiful and hilarious and empathetic you were the moment you joined the team, he’d fallen in love with you when you had your first case with them. Spencer had begun to ramble about the specifics of casinos, and how ‘beating the house’ was nearly impossible, when the rest of the team had tuned out. A temporary member, Agent Seaver, had sneered ‘I’m sorry I asked.” Effectively shutting him up. But then you had turned in your seat next to him and, after shooting Seaver a look had asked him to continue. And though he didn’t have that much more to say, and it wasn’t all that interesting, you listened to every single word and thanked him.

It had been years since that had happened, your friendship had blossomed into best friends, something Spencer cherished immensely. This was partly why he shoved his feelings down. The relationship did not need to change for Spencer to remain happy; as long as he got to spend time with you at work, or watch movies and make tent forts in his living room. And visit his mom (who adored you and always gave you book recommendations that you would be sure to read the moment you could), or go to comic conventions and museums...yes, as long as he could always do those things with you, he was happy.

No need to risk changing a perfect thing.

Now though, you were shutting the door and giving him your most panicked look, wide-eyed, with your hair damp from the rain you no doubt had run through to get inside, accounting for your breathlessness. If it weren’t for the worry that had sprung up inside of him upon seeing your expression, he would have fixated on how beautiful you looked at that moment.

“Spencer, you’re my boyfriend.” You whisper yelled at him, quickly stepping closer and setting your bag down on the conference table.

“Wha-“ He began, but you cut him off frantically.

“I’ll explain-just, oh fuck-“

Spencer stood frozen to the spot as the door reopened and one of the senior detectives sauntered in, a friendly smile somewhat overshadowed by the almost predatorial glint in his eyes. You awkwardly stepped closer to Spencer, raising a hand in hello.

“Agent (Y/L/N), great to see you’re back, I was hoping to catch you before the end of the day!” He said merrily, placing two hands on the back of the nearest chair. Something about the way his hands gripped the chair made Spencer feel...on edge.

You gave the fakest little giggle Spencer had ever heard from you, “Oh, nice to see you too Detective! Just had to catch up with Agent Reid here...”

When his eyes moved from you to assess Spencer briefly, he felt a protective force rear up, instincts entirely at alert. Without hesitating, he casually draped an arm over your shoulder, brushing some hair back as he did, and replied, “And you promised we could get some coffee from the Starbucks down the road, hon.”

He enjoyed the way your cheeks flushed and noticed the pulse in your neck pick up. You glanced up at him, trying to look coy but he knew you too well and could see you were partly surprised, and also trying not to laugh.

“Um, of course, I nearly forgot, babe, let’s go in about 5-unless, did you need something specific, Detective?” She broke off to glance back at the now scowling man, who gave an annoyed jerk of his head before stomping back out of the room.

Once the door banged closed behind him, you let out the biggest sigh of relief, raising a hand to your face in dismay.

Spencer hadn’t removed his arm yet, “I’m assuming I just helped you avoid being asked out, but why-?”

“Uhg, Spencer, I’ve already turned him down TWICE since we’ve arrived! He’s literally the kind of dude who doesn’t take no for an answer unless another man has some fucking misogynistic claim over the woman!” You exclaimed, before moving to stand right in front of Spencer and lean just your head to his chest, staring down at the floor, “I hate everything.”

Spencer laughed, patting your back softly, but internally making note that he wouldn’t be letting you go anywhere alone for the rest of this case-that detective gave him the creeps. And while you were beyond capable of protecting yourself, he just knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything if he thought you could be hurt.

“Well, just so we’re clear I would never want to be called ‘babe’ in a relationship.” He joked and the desired effect was his immediate reward when you lifted your head and giggled-your genuine, beautiful little giggle-and then grinned.

“Spencer, you called me ‘hon’ like we were 70.”

Spencer considered a moment, “We could be, you’ll be Gladys and I’ll be-“

“Winston!” You supplied eagerly, and he frowned at you, trying not to laugh.

“Winston?”

“It’s really very dignified, the kind of name where people call you ‘sir’.” You replied cheekily, and while Spencer grinned, a part of him felt a swoop of pleasure when your lips formed the word ‘sir’.

He decided very quickly that he liked the idea of you calling him that. And then, just as swiftly dismissed that train of thought and chastised himself.

As you both stood together and laughed, the door swung open and Hotch and the team followed him in, all in various stages of the results of exposure to the rain, looking equally grim. Spencer and you abruptly stopped when you saw their expressions and launched back into work mode seamlessly.

———

Two days later, the team was closing in on the unsub and everyone was on high alert. Taking the profile and applying it to the geo-profile he had been working on, Spencer had narrowed down this grubby old apartment that sat above a nightclub as the most likely spot the unsub was staying at. Of course, they were arriving at night which meant the club was busy and loud, people lined up out the doors waiting for their chance to enter, pay too much for a drink and grind their bodies against strangers.

Spencer’s headache from the unforgiving rain was thrumming now with the music that seemed entirely unencumbered by the walls of the stairwell, the team slowly climbing. It was bad enough that his eyes narrowed somewhat, but he didn’t lose focus.

You were behind him, watching his six as Hotch and Morgan approached the door ahead and prepared to breach. Spencer slipped a hand behind his back and, on cue, you’re pinky wrapped with his. A brief promise to each other, ‘I’ve got you.’.

They had anticipated violence and heavy arms, so when their announcement was met with silence and the door was kicked open, the tactical response was to secure positions and carefully proceed. Agents and SWAT members lined the building and were, at that moment, securing the club below to ensure the unsub couldn’t flee into a room full of potential hostages.

Spencer and you were the third pair to enter, quickly moving ahead of the others to secure more rooms, eyes peeled for movement. The floor was covered in litter and random spots of dirt and dried substances. It smelled like body odour and axe body spray-which immediately went to Spencer’s headache and caused it to throb in protest.

“Freeze!”

You had shouted right as Spencer noticed the movement from a back room down the hall, as the unsub leaned out and, not abiding by the command, opened fire. Spencer grabbed you and swung you both behind the wall of the kitchen, out of the line of fire while he shouted the unsubs location.

You recovered quickly, dropping to the ground and leaning out to return fire as Hotch and Morgan ran across to the living room to join the battle. It only took a few moments after that before Morgan managed to get a shot to the suspect's shoulder and he fell with a cry of anguish.

You popped up from the ground, watching as Prentiss and Rossi moved forward to secure the man, and barked into your radio for medics to come in.

Spencer, meanwhile, was reeling. When the shots in the room had all joined together in a cacophony, sound and noise piercing his skull, it had converted to pain and panic in his skull, overwhelming him. He had used his own body to shield yours when he pulled you with him into the wall, and the caution he took with you meant he hadn’t caught himself carefully enough, his head bouncing lightly off of the stone wall.

Which, on a normal day would have simply been annoying. But today, with a headache so severe he was beginning to get spots in his vision, it was detrimental. The scene was secure, so he allowed his eyes to shut, a meagre reprieve but at least it was something, at least he didn’t have to see the beams from the flashlights or the pulsing of the neon signs outside of the windows...

“Winston, take my hand.” Your voice was so, so soft. Spencer let his mouth open slightly, a small rush of air all he managed, trying to say ‘I can’t-it hurts, make it stop’ but you grasped his hand tightly and pulled and he followed, his other hand reaching and grabbing that back of your vest, he let you lead him.

He knew from the reduced foot traffic of agents and crime scene workers that you were taking the rear exit, a stairwell that was narrower than the main. He peeked through his lashes to take the stairs, and then suddenly, the cool night air hit him and the door was closing behind you both.

You kept walking with purpose, leading Spencer further away from the loud building. The rain spattered his face but with each step the noise reduced and after a short walk it became relatively quiet.

“Sit.” You murmured, halting. Spencer opened his eyes and saw that you had led him to the farthest spot in the parking lot from the building, where trees lined the lot along a community park that was probably utilized by vagrants and drug dealers more than families. But there was a bench, and you were waiting for him to take a seat. You had pulled out a compact, expandable emergency rain shield from one of the pockets on your FBI utility belt and tossed it on the bench, protecting you both from soaking your underwear.

Spencer sat, setting his elbows on his legs and leaning forward with his hands pressed to his face. He took deep, steadying breaths as you joined him, your hand on the back of his neck. At first, he thought you were just resting it there because his FBI vest would have prevented him from feeling your hand on his back, however, a moment later it was joined by your other hand and a very cold object.

Resisting the urge to pull away, he gasped at the contact, “What-?”

“On-the-go cold compress, Doctor.” You explained, leaving it in place and then rummaging again. Spencer wanted to look but the compress, combined with the quiet, was already doing wonders. He continued to take deep breaths.

“When you’re ready, try this.” You said softly, pressing something to his hand. Opening his eyes, he saw a mini flask that had his name written on the side.

He turned his head slowly so as not to move the compress and met your eyes, which were assessing him with concern. “(Y/N), when did we start drinking on the job?”

You giggled quietly, “It’s just water mixed with this like, vitamin powder that’s supposed to be good for rehydrating you quickly. I did some research on how to help headaches like yours on the go, just in case, and I made this ‘Spencer’ care bag.” You rambled a little when he didn’t reply.

Spencer looked back at the flask and opened it, quickly downing the contents. It tasted pretty fruity and he realized he was thirsty, this taking the edge off.

“Is it okay?” You asked. Spencer raised his head and met your eyes, searching them.

He was overwhelmed, the headache already fading, in its place an intensely warm feeling building inside of him as he considered the time and effort you had taken to care for him. He hadn’t asked you, or hinted, you had just taken it on to find a way to help him and you were right there when he needed you the most.

You had always been there when he needed you. When he had been shot protecting Blake, when he struggled to care for his mother, when he had gone to prison, when he was freed, you were there.

The words tumbled out, unable to be contained a second longer.

“I am hopelessly in love with you.”

Your mouth opened and closed in surprise, taken entirely off guard. Though he worried what you would say, he couldn’t deny the relief he felt having finally said it out loud. He watched patiently as your mind processed his confession, holding his breath.

“I-Spencer,” And then suddenly your lips were pressing into his and the pain from his headache ceased entirely. Spencer was consumed by the feel of you against him, of your hands holding his face and the hum of content you gave when he returned your passion, dropping his flask and sliding his hands up your neck, gripping tenderly.

After what could have been hours, weeks, or years, you both broke apart, pulling back just enough to make eye contact without your eyes crossing. Neither of you let go, your breath puffing out in wisps in the cold night air.

“I love you too,” You breathed, “I could grow old with you, Winston.”

Spencer laughed, relief and happiness swooping through him at your words, “Gladys, I couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.”

Did you enjoy this story? Please consider reblogging or commenting to ease my inner turmoil as a writer. Likes are basically just a bookmark!

You grinned back at Spencer, and then he kissed you again.

[albertasunrise]

It's Yours - Chapter 9

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Summary: You and Javier have been sleeping together for almost two years but after his name was leaked by the papers, he is sent home for investigation. You remain behind with Steve to catch Escobar but when he’s finally dead, you decide to go after the man you’ve fallen for. You don’t like what you find when you finally reunite with him.

Warnings: Fluff, Childbirth.

Relationships: Javier Peña x Reader

~

You were in the last month or so of your pregnancy and you were miserable. The Peña men had you refined to your bed or the couch and you were grateful. Your ankles were swollen, your back was killing you and the babies weren’t giving you a minutes rest. With bed rest though came loneliness and with loneliness came overthinking and you were starting to overthink everything. So when Javi had told you that Connie had offered to come out and stay until the babies had arrived you were over the moon.

Today was the day she was arriving and you couldn’t wait. Javier had been busy getting the house ready for the babies. The nursery had been decorated, toy army arranged and furniture had been built. So now his days were spent getting the other house ready for his dad. Chucho was there to wait on you hand and foot when he could but he still had a ranch to run so you spent most of your days alone. Javier had driven to collect the Murphy’s from the airport. Steve was coming down for a few days before heading back to Miami but Connie and Olivia were going to be with you for at least the next month.

It was a little afternoon when they arrived.

You were settled on the couch watching a nature documentary when the door swung open and two golden heads came into view. Connie almost threw herself at you, arms circling your shoulders as she squeezed you tightly.

“You’re so big now.” She squealed as she cooed over your bump.

“I’m a whale.” You sighed, pushing yourself up a little so you could see everyone better.

“You are glowing Mi Amor.” Gushed Javier and you rolled your eyes at him.

“You have to say that Peña.” You grumbled, “You’re the one who got me into this mess.”

“She’s got a point dude.” Conceded Steve, flinching when Javier punches his arm "Mind Olivia." He moaned before the toddle slapped his cheek with her little hand.

"Seems like Livie agrees with me." Chuckled the agent.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you rolled your eyes when Javier leapt to your side and grabbed your arms in order to support you as you waddled along.

“I can walk Javier.” You snapped, sighing when you saw hurt flash across his face “Sorry baby. I’m just a little fed up. Not sure if I can go another month.”

“You know it's common for twins to come early?” Stated Connie and you nodded, rubbing your aching belly as you tottered towards the kitchen.

“Yeah the Doctor did tell us and I’m praying they do. I’m getting impatient now.” You chuckled, pulling out a bottle of water from the fridge before plonking yourself down on one of the kitchen chairs, already exhausted from your short walk.

“You’re doing so well baby.” Said Javier lovingly as he placed a sweet kiss on your forehead “So proud of you, growing out little angels.”

~

Connie, Steve and Olivia were such a welcome distraction.

Steve helped Javier get the guesthouse finished and then had helped Chucho officially move in.

Connie took excellent care of you whilst Olivia and you played. She was fascinated by your bump and how it moved as the babies wriggled around inside. She loved to lay her little head on it, chuckling when she'd get nudged by a foot.

"You like that Liv?" You asked as she chuckled at you, clapping in delight.

'Ye." She squealed.

She'd started to pick up words. Now able to answer yes or no questions and you felt the maternal side of you overflow with pride and each milestone she'd hit.

"Would you like a little brother or sister Liv?" You asked as Connie popped your tea beside you before taking a seat in the armchair across from you.

"YE!" She yelled and she chuckled.

"Well, there you have it Con."

"Well actually..." She started before falling silent, grinning behind her mug and your mouth dropped.

"You're not?"

"I am." She nodded excitedly and you practically screamed in excitement, Olivia mirroring your reaction.

"What... How... wh-" You paused as you processed what she'd just told you "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, we wanted to wait till we passed the 12-week mark before we told people. You know how we've struggled in the past and we didn't want to jinx it." You nodded in understanding, knowing they'd lost a baby a few years back.

"And so everything's okay?"

"Perfect." She said as she pulled some images from her back and passed them to you.

"This is amazing Con." You said sweetly as you gazed at the photos "I'm so happy for you both." You finished as you smiled up at your best friend.

~

It was the last day before Steve was due to return to Miami and you had suggested that the men go out for dinner and few drinks. You were hoping for a relaxed evening, just you and Connie but you could tell that Javier wasn’t sure about leaving you.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” He asked, his big brown eyes making your stomach flip.

“Baby. We’ll be fine.” You chuckled “I’m in great hands here anyway!”

“Come on, you boys go have fun. Might be your last chance before the babies arrive.” Said Connie, giving his arm a friendly squeeze.

“You’ll call if you need anything?”

“Yes!”

“And you’ll take it easy?”

“Yes, Javier.” You groan.

“She won’t lift a finger for herself.” Stated Connie “Unless she needs the bathroom. There's a line.” She chuckled, eliciting a laugh from both you and Javi.

“Fine.” He said, finally giving in “You girls have fun.”

Little did you know that everything was about to change.

~

The first contraction was so mild you barely noticed it. Rubbing your belly, you groaned as you shifted in your seat in an attempt to get comfortable but as the evening went on they became more intense. You’d been warned that you might experience false contractions or Braxton Hicks so you’d decided to ignore them, convinced that they would pass.

It was around 6 when you realised that they weren’t.

“Con.”

“Hmmm.”

“I think I’m in labour.”

...

“I really appreciate you and Con coming out here.” Said Javier as he gave his friend a genuine smile “The Mrs has been really struggling the last few months so I know that she really appreciates Connie being here for the last leg of this. I honestly have no idea what I’m doing. Even Olivia's doing a better job of keeping her happy.” He chuckled as he glanced at his pops “Seems like everything I do is wrong.”

“She’s growing two people inside of her Mijo.” Piped up Chucho, giving his son’s arm a friendly squeeze “She’s entitled to be snappy.”

...

“Your contractions are close together hun.” Stated Connie, holding your hand as another one ripped through you “How close is the nearest hospital?"

“47 minutes.” You panted “Timed… drive.”

“Right well I don’t think the you’re gonna last to the hospital hun.” She stated, “Do you know where the boys went?”

“NO.” You screamed, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you tried to breathe the pain.

She sprinted to the bedroom and grabbed a few pillows before making a b-line for the bathroom and grabbing some towels. bringing them to you in the lounge and arranging them so she could make you as comfortable as possible. Next, she grabbed the washing up bowl from under the sink and filled it with some warm water, knowing she’d need it to clean up the babies when they arrived.

“Right, sweetheart I need you to trust me.” She started as she pulled down your leggings and underwear “We’re going to have to deliver the babies here. I’m going to take a look and see how dilated you are.”

“SI.” You screamed and she looked at you in confusion.

“Odd time to scream for your ex.” She said before returning her attention to the job at hand.

“No… Call him… He could tell us where Javi is.” You panted out and she nodded in understanding, flicking through the phonebook beside the phone and dialling in the bar's number.

Silently grateful that Olivia's a heavy sleeper.

...

“Wonder what the girls are up to.” Said Steve as he took a swig of his beer.

“Probably watching crappy tv and gushing over all the baby clothes I spent a fortune on the other day.” Chuckled Javier “Si, reckon we can get another?”

“Sure thing.” Said the man as he grabbed two more beers “Another soda Chucho?”

“I think I’m good.” Said the older man “Will be bouncing off the walls.”

“Now that I’d like to see.” Chuckled the bartender as he walked over to the ringing phone and answering it, smile falling as he flicked his head towards Javier.

“What is it?”

“You need to go home.” He stated and Javier immediately started to panic.

“What's going on?” Asked Steve, pulling his eyes from the game on the screen and noting the now tense atmosphere.

“She’s in labour.”

~

‘Where is he?” You sobbed, contractions now so much closer together.

“They’ll be here soon sweetie. I just need you to breathe for me okay?” She instructed and you tried your best to do as she asked “I’ve called an ambulance too but hun…” She paused, glancing down before locking your gaze again “You’re going to have to start pushing real soon.”

“No.” You sobbed, shaking your head as tears stained your shirt “No I can’t.”

“You have to.” She said, stroking your hair away from your sweat-slick brow.

“I need Javi.” You wailed “Where’s Javi!.”

“I’m here baby.” Came a familiar voice and you sobbed “I’m right here beside you Mi Amor.”

Everything around you seemed to disappear and suddenly it was just you and him. Even the pain seemed to disappear and you cried as he pulled you in for a kiss but the moment was cut short when the worst contraction yet tore through you.

“Right hun you need to push.”

“No… I can’t.” You choke on a hiccup as you shake your head.

“Baby, if you don’t push then we won’t meet our babies.” Said Javier sweetly “You can do it, mi corazón.”

Connie ordered you to push and you did. Over and over until you were left limp on the cushions she’d so carefully laid underneath you.

“One more hun.” She said and you weren’t sure you had it in you “Come on he’s almost here.”

That was what you needed to make that final push.

With one more gargantuan effort, his cries filled the air and you let out a relieved sob as you watched her hand him to Steve so he could wash him. Not even noticing Javi cutting the cord. Chucho took his from the blonde agent after he was wrapped in one of the soft blankets you'd bought and bounced him in his arms, desperate to quiet him a little.

“How are you feeling sweetheart.” Asked Connie and you looked at her with a painted expression.

“Exhausted.”

“Well, you don’t have long sweetheart.” She said sympathetically “Your baby girl is on her way.”

She wasn’t lying either. It seemed like you had no time at all to rest before your baby girl started to make her entrance. The orders to push were repeated and you did. Pulling at whatever reserves you had left to push your baby girl into the world and when you made the final one you allowed yourself to ultimately collapse bonelessly onto the makeshift bed as you watched Javi cut the cord and hand her to Steve to be cleaned.

It took a moment for it to register.

You were so tired.

There was crying, but those were your son's cries.

She wasn’t crying.

Why wasn’t she crying?

“Why isn’t she crying?” Javier asked, staring at Connie as she checked over your newborn daughter.

She said nothing. She was calm as she waited for the tiny infant to show any signs of life but after a few minutes, she started CPR. Javier held you as the two of you watched the woman work, unable to control your emotions as fat tears started to fall. Chucho stood with your son in his arms and watched the terrifying spectacle, unable to help the few tears that slipped down his cheeks.

Then you heard the most beautiful sound.

“There you go.” Said Connie as she smiled down at the screaming infant “That's in sweetheart.” She said as she placed the wriggling baby in your arms.

“Don’t scare us like that baby girl.” Said Javier as he looked down lovingly at the tiny being in your arms.

“Don’t forget this little chap.” Said Chucho as he kneeled beside you and placed your son in your other arm.

You took a moment to stare down at your two tiny tots, forehead resting against Javier’s as you basked in the moment. Your whole body was shaking with exertion. You could smell what had happened as you pushed one of your children into the world but you didn’t care. No one did.

Your babies were here.

Everything else was irrelevant.

~

One Week Later…

You and Javier sat cuddled up on the couch, you holding your son and him holding your daughter. Connie was busy helping Chucho in the kitchen, still adamant that she stay a few weeks to help. The two of you had been struggling to come up with names. Nothing seemed to fit and you'd expected to have a little more time.

The ambulance had arrived a little while after you’d delivered and you were rushed to the hospital where they kept you and the babies in overnight. They were happy to discharge you the following day though and you’d quickly settled into a routine. You were sore, struggling to sit down on any chair that you had in the house. So you had almost sobbed when Si turned up with the most beautiful rocking chair you’d ever seen.

“Mae and I bought it when she was expecting and I dunno… I could never bring myself to get rid of it.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders as he placed the chair down “It’s supposed to be really good for breastfeeding and all that. You don’t have to keep it but…'

You stopped his rambling with a kiss on his cheek.

“It’s perfect.” You said sweetly, smiling when his eyes locked onto your son in your arms “Would you like to hold him?”

His eyes grew wide as he looked up at you with childlike excitement and he nodded eagerly, carefully taking him from you and cradling him with such care. You couldn’t help but swoon at the sight. The man would always hold a place in your heart but as Javier came to stand beside you, your sleeping daughter in his arms you swooned even harder.

“We actually had something we wanted to ask you.” Piped up Javier after a few minutes, Si looking up from your son to study you both.

“Well, we wondered if maybe, you’d like to be their godfather?” You said, watching him with hopeful eyes as he processed what you'd just said.

He said nothing. The tears in his eyes was all the answer that you needed and after a few more minutes of gushing over your son, he handed you back you little boy before stealing your daughter from Javier.

“You got names for them yet?” He asked as he bounced her in his arms.

“No.’ You grumbled, “Nothing feels right.”

“Mae and I were expecting a girl,” He said as he smiled down at yours “Had a name picked out as soon as we learned the sex.”

“What was it?” You asked as you sat down on the couch.

“Layla.” He stated, “Reckon she looks like a Layla.” He said with a watery smile, bringing her forehead to his lips and placing a gentle kiss there.

You looked at Javier. Sharing a mental conversation before he turned his head to the man and placed a friendly arm around Si’s shaking shoulders.

“She really does man.” He said, gently pinching her chubby little cheek “Layla Mae Peña.”

The man looked up at Javier and let out a choked sob before looking down at the tiny little being in his arms.

“If that's okay with you?” Javier asked and Si looked at him again.

“It’s more than okay.” The man replied.

“What about Luca for the other one.” Piped up Steve and you all chuckled, the soft moment broken by his eloquence.

“The other one?” You boomed.

“That’s my son Pendejo.” Javier jested as he gave his partner a playful punch on the arm.

“Luca and Layla.” You said, testing the names on your tongue “I think we’ve found their names.” You stated as you laid a gentle kiss on Luca’s nose.

“Does kinda sound like Luke and Leia.” Pointed out Connie and you chuckled again.

“I don’t see what the issue is.” Piped up Javier and everyone chuckled.

“Course you wouldn’t.” Teased Steve “Nerd.”

"You next Con." You said as you looked at the blonde who was cradling a sleeping Olivia on her shpoulder.

"Wait what?" Said Javier, confused by your statement "You're pregnant?"

"Mhmmm." She nodded, smirking at Javier's shock.

"Why didn't you tell me." He whined as he looked at his partner in shock.

[generallybarzy]

not despite, but unconditionally.

an: written for my lovely lovely friend @softboybarzal who i love dearly so so so so much 🖤🤍💜 happy late asexuality day!!!! I hope this is everything i think it is and I hope it makes you feel all soft and happy because of it. I really put my heart in this one for you and everyone else out there who feels like someone won't love and accept them because of their sexuality. I love all of you sm and I promise you will find someone who cherishes you like barzy does in this fic.

tagging: @softboybarzal ​ @fallinallincurls ​ @matbaerzal ​ @npatrickz ​ @canadianheaters ​ @selenophileangel ​ @deleausvp ​ @colecaufield ​ @hockeyhughes11 ​ @nazdaddy ​ @barzysreputation ​ @comphybiscuit ​ @aboveaveragehockeyboys ​ @ifiwasshawnmendesidslapmyself ​ @petey-patty ​ @starswin​ @heatherawoowoo ​ ​

word count: 2.6k

After only a handful of months with Mathew, you already knew he was an amazing boyfriend- always attentive, but never suffocating, endearingly clingy and cuddly and soft, and the most caring and gentle man you had ever met in your life. Something you loved about Mat- but, god, how could you choose when there were so many things to love?- was how open he was to listen, to learn about you, to know you. How good the two of you were at communicating with each other, and how much he listened and made sure he understood what was wrong when you were upset. But, this beautiful talent of his came with downfalls, and that downfall- for you, anyway- was that you could never pretend to be fine around him. He knew you much too well. He knew everything about you. 

Well, except for one thing.

So when you walked through his apartment door for your Friday night cuddles with a gloomy smile and a far-away look in your eyes, he knew something was wrong. 

“Heyyyy, baby.” He bounced over to the door, always energetic, and grabbed your bag and coat from you. He bent down and lay a big smooch against your lips, smoothing a hand through your hair, and you subconsciously leaned into his touch. While he knew you always loved being near him, there was something so withdrawn about you lately. He smiled his comforting little smile, watching you with soft eyes. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing, bubs. I’m just tired, long day at work, that’s all.” 

It was a lie, you knew it and Mat did too. Maybe you were tired, maybe you did have a long day at work, but he could see there was something else there. Even so, he smiled softly and kissed your cheek, vowing to himself that he’d get it out of you after a bit of cuddling. “Okay. How about we go cuddle and watch some Netflix, ‘kay? I have a hoodie ready for you to change into in my room, and I’ll start the hot cocoa, okay?”

“Thank you.” 

“Always.” He lay another kiss on your head before shooing you off to the bedroom to change. “Go get cozy, babe.” 

The moment you stepped into Mat’s bedroom, you knew how this night was going to go. Mat’s room was all tidied up, the bed was made and the drawers were closed and his nightstand was de-cluttered, and while he wasn’t necessarily a dirty person, it was obvious he had cleaned up today, and you knew why. Whenever you would come over and see he had cleaned his room, he would later try to take your relationship to the next level by turning your cuddle session into a makeout session, and the only reason those makeout sessions didn’t become more was that you would shoot him down and say you were sleepy. Granted, you loved the makeout sessions, you loved to fall asleep on him, and you loved how understanding he was that you weren’t in the mood. You just weren’t sure if he’d be so understanding that you were never gonna be in the mood.

After you stripped out of your clothes and into Mat’s big hoodie and a pair of sweats, you opened the door to go back out to the living room, where Mat was fluffing some pillows up and putting on Netflix. “Hey, just in time!” Mat set the drinks on the coffee table and pulled you into his side and flopped down onto the couch, snuggling into you like you were a teddy bear. 

“So snuggly tonight, Maty.”

“Only for you.”

The movie dragged on, at least thirty minutes passing with barely any talk between you. Your mind was racing with what you were going to tell Mat when he inevitably tried to make a movie and you rejected him again. He was going to be so upset, you knew it, he was going to break up with you right here. You didn’t want to think about it

Then, just like you knew would happen, you felt his lips against your ear. 

You welcomed it, gladly, you always loved when he kissed you. What worried you was what would come next. You couldn’t keep lying to him about this, leading him on, you had to tell him. “Mat, baby, stop.”

"What's wrong?" 

"Ah, I'm just… I'm too sleepy to do anything." 

Mat was silent for a few moments, before sitting up completely, bringing you up to sit next to him. "Are you just saying that?" God you didn't want to have this talk, you didn't want to fight, you didn't want him to leave you. You could feel the tears in your eyes. “Oh, hey hey hey.” Mat scrambled to collect you, bringing his hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears, kissing your face tenderly. “Please, babe, I know something’s wrong. It’s fine if you don’t wanna have sex tonight but like, this might make me sound like a dick but I’ve waited and tried again and again and I’m just worried. Is there something wrong? Is it just that you’re not attracted to me or...? What? I promise I won’t be mad, I’m just trying to understand, ya know?”

“No, I’m attracted to you, I promise. I just…” 

“What is it?” Mat’s voice was quiet and gentle, his brow furrowed. He was genuinely trying to understand. 

“I- You might not like it, Mat, and uh, if you want to leave me after this… if it’s too much for you, I’ll understand. I won’t blame you.” 

“Hey, hey…” Mat tilted his head down to try and catch your gaze, his eyes gentle, his fingers even more gentle on your chin. “Okay, you know I’m not pushy, but babe, I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to, but I need you to tell me this. You’re worrying me.” Mat saw the hesitation on your face, the way you couldn’t meet his eyes, and reached out slowly. “Can I hold your hands?” He saw the way your hands reached out instinctively for his and took that as his okay to hold them, marveling at how small your hands were in his. “Take your time, talk when you’re ready.”

You took a few deep breaths, and could only bring yourself to glance up at him momentarily. You couldn’t delay this any longer. "Mat, I don't want to have sex with you." 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he shook his head softly. "Um, okay, yeah that's okay. I won’t push you to. We can wait as long as you need." 

"No, no, I… I mean, like, ever." 

"I… I don't understand"

“I’m uhh. I’m asexual, Mat.”

“Okay.” Mat glanced down to the floor for a moment, biting his lip and furrowing his brow. You could see the gears turning in his head, and you loved him so, so much just for trying his hardest to understand it. After a moment, he looked back up at you, gentle questioning in his eyes. “Okay, so, what exactly does that mean for you, specifically?”

You were taken aback. Never before did anyone ask you what your sexuality meant to you. No one ever asked where you fell on the spectrum, they just pushed you aside because all they hear was no sex, and decided you weren’t worth a sexless relationship. You were at a loss for words. “I just, I guess I don’t get turned on, if that makes sense? Physically, yeah, I can get aroused, but in my head, I don’t feel the sexual attraction. Trust me, you’re hot and all, but it’s just… nothing… clicks, down there, ya know? I don’t get the urge to have sex or anything.” 

Mat nodded quietly, listening intently, so you continued. No one had ever given you space to ramble about your sexuality. No one had ever listened. And if he was gonna break up with you anyway, might as well get it all out. "I'm conflicted when it comes to sex, honestly, because I don't really want it or need it but I'm willing to do it for you if you really want it, ya know? I'm okay with making you feel good, but it just doesn't do anything for me."

“Well, if it doesn’t feel good for you, why would we do it?”

“It, it’s not that it doesn’t feel good. Well, for some people, it doesn’t. It’s a spectrum.” You saw Mat nod, and it made your heart swell how much he was willing to listen. “Some people hate sex, some people are okay with it, some people like it, we just don’t… necessarily need it. I’m okay with it, sometimes. I’m sure it wouldn’t feel too bad if I was doing it out of love, for you, but I just… don’t need it. I would do it for you, to make you feel good, ya know? But it doesn’t do anything for me.”

“So, that’s what was bothering you so much?”

“Yeah.” Mat was silent, his eyebrows furrowed up in thought. You could feel the tears coming back, even though Mat was so willing to listen, you knew he wouldn’t be willing to stay with you and give up something he wanted as much as sex. "I just, I know you want to have sex, and I just… I knew I needed to tell you, but I was trying to delay it because I just... I love you so much and I don’t want to ruin that. I know you want sex and I can’t promise you that, and I just…” Tears were streaming down your face now, and you could hear Mat frantically hushing you. “I just really really don't want you to leave me because of this."

"No no no baby, don't cry.” His arms surrounded you quickly, cradling you close against him. Your nose found the crook of his neck, settling there against that comforting scent that was just so him. His warmth surrounded you, you could feel his heart beating against your chest, his arms heavy around your back, keeping you close, and you felt safe. “Shh, baby. Please don’t cry over this. Please. I love you.” He lay kiss after kiss on your face, soft little pecks all over your wet cheeks. “I love you.” 

“But you’re gonna break up with me, aren’t you?”

“No!” He leaned back from the embrace, keeping his arms tight around you and catching your eyes with the most serious look you’d ever seen in your relationship. This was the first big, serious talk, after all. “Let’s get that into your pretty little head first, okay. I’m not breaking up with you. I. Am not. Breaking up with you. Ever. Tell me babe, what am I doing?”

“Not breaking up with me.” You smiled tearily and he beamed down at you.

“That's right, you're stuck with me." His lips fell to a tiny half-smile. "Listen, I love you, and we’re not breaking up. But, I don’t want you to think that you’re holding anything back from me. You’re not. It’s not that “you don’t wanna have sex, but I guess I can still love you despite that”, alright? It’s not that I still love you despite your asexuality, or even though you don't want sex. It's that you're asexual and I love you. Two. Independent. Facts.” He punctuated each word with a kiss on your forehead, his hands cupping your cheeks gently. He tilted his head then, glancing towards the ceiling as he thought over his word. “Okay, that might’ve been a little confusing but hang in there for me. It’s that… You don't want to have sex and you're my girlfriend and I respect that. Saying I love you despite this makes it seem like your sexuality is something I should have a problem with, but it isn't. It's another part of you, and I love you. All of you. My love for you isn't dependent on the idea of us having sex, okay? What's that “U” word I’m thinking of? For when I love you no matter what?"

Your throat was tight and your voice shaky as you sputtered out. "You, um, you mean un- unconditional?" 

"Yeah. Yeah. I love you unconditionally, okay? I love you for more than just sex. You're more than that... We're more than that, okay? A lot more. We’re all those dumb inside jokes we have that no one else is allowed in on, we’re weekly movie nights with hot chocolate and snacks. We’re hugs and kisses and cuddles on the couch after one of us had a bad day. We’re those shy kisses while surrounded by my teammates after we see each other on the concourse after a game, and me showing up at your work with lunch and embarrassing you in front of your coworkers, going out with all of our friends, and sneaking away to talk on the roof when the lights and the noises get too overwhelming. We’re about supporting each other in life, no matter what. That’s us. Sex doesn’t matter. If you decide later that you wanna try sex, I’m okay with it. If you’re okay with oral but no penetration, I’m okay with that. If you wanna touch me but don’t want me to do anything to you, I’m okay with that. If you decide you don’t want any type of sex ever, I am a hundred percent okay with that too. You know why? Because you’re so worth it.”

“Mat...” As much as you wanted to believe him, there was something nagging away at you, saying of course Mat wants sex, he’s hinted at it before, and what attractive young man like him wouldn’t? “Are you sure? You might be giving up sex for the most part.” 

"I’m a hundred percent sure. No, no, a trillion percent. Trust me. As long as I can stay here with you and cuddle you and love you and be with you, I'll be happy. Forever. Five-ever." He poked your cheek cutely, and a smile finally broke out on your face, prompting a stunning smile from Mat as well. “I promise you.” He leaned in again and pressed his lips to yours, passionately and with a smile, knowing that finally, you were comfortable again. “And I’m a big boy, I can get myself off if I need to. Promise.”  

“Mat!” You pulled back from him with a laugh.

“Hey, seriously! I don’t need you to do anything for me you don’t want to. I wouldn’t be a very good boyfriend if I forced you into stuff, would I? I’m completely fine going without, forever if I need to.” You buried your face in Mat’s chest, breathing in his cologne and soap, trying not to cry, this time not out of anxiety, but happiness. “I never want you to be scared to tell me anything, okay? I’ll promise you, I’ll always listen.” Mat squeezed his arms around you and lay back on the couch, pulling the blankets up around you and tucking you in tight against him. You snuggled down against him, your heart swelling with the absolute love Mat was willing to give to you. You couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him.

“Thank you so much.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I would never break up with you over something like that. Never. Now, how about we get back to the movie, huh? I’ve had enough serious talk tonight.” 

“I love you, Maty.” 

Mat smiled, his heart pounding against you. He smiled, knowing this was it for him. He smiled at the thought that he was lucky enough to call someone as amazing as you his person, his better half, the person he loved the most in the world. Sex wasn’t even a small price to pay. It meant nothing to him, sex wasn’t even on his mind, as long as he could stay in moments like these with you, forever. This was truly, honestly, all he needed. 

“I love you too, baby. Unconditionally.”

[mrsgiovanna]

Moonlight

Don Giorno x reader (fluff)

Just another fluffy, self indulgent scenario. This time celebrating the Don's birthday 💭🎉

The air was chilly out on the balcony, but you needed to steal a moment for yourself, away from the joviality occurring in the room behind you. You looked over the scene, taking in the warm atmosphere from afar. The small party you were planning for Giorno’s birthday turned out to be a little bit bigger than you had anticipated.

Honestly, you just wanted a small, elegant shindig for your nearest and dearest, but these plans somehow snowballed into this grand party. As much as you would have liked to put the blame on Mista and Trish who excitedly offered their help when you mentioned that you wanted to celebrate your beloved’s birthday, you couldn’t overlook your own contribution to this.

You wanted the best for Giorno, if there was anyone who deserved it, it was him, so when Mista suggested specially ordering all the champagne in the same vintage as his birth year, you couldn’t turn down such a brilliant idea. You enlisted Trish’s help in narrowing down the ideas for your own outfit, that however turned into getting matching designer ensembles for you and Giorno… You had to admit that you both looked like royalty though.

You couldn’t help but smile at Mista’s party tricks, the genuine smile that occupied Fugo’s face warmed your heart and Trish was engaging in what looked like an interesting conversation with a handsome associate, you made a mental note to ask her about that later.

Your heart skipped a beat as you watched Giorno interacting with everyone. He was the personification of confidence, elegantly traversing the room, mingling among the different groups of people with a dignified air of self assurance. You weren't sure if it was the champagne getting to him, or yourself for that matter, but you saw Giorno exude a different type of charisma, everybody in the room was enthralled by him and hung on to every gesture he made. He cut a striking figure in his black suit with gold embroidered accents, his eyes were slightly glassy with the faintest blush dusting his cheeks and his smile was sincere and relaxed. You were content, the man you loved so dearly looked calm and happy, surrounded by the people who loved him most.

"Giogio, come on, have another drink with us, the night is still young." Giorno turned towards Fugo's loud voice beckoning him, he just offered a smile and waved him off, knowing he needed to get some air before he felt the effects of his liquor too much. His jade orbs scanned the surroundings looking for you, until he finally spotted your silhouette on the balcony. His face softened as he walked towards you. You were simply dazzling, not just because of your gold outfit, or the way in which the moonlight bounced off your skin, it was as if you were illuminated from within.

"Bella, so this is where you've been hiding? And you didn't even invite me, how cruel. I guess I'll just have to trap you here now."

You giggled as you felt Giorno's arms gripping the railing of the balcony on either side of you as he bent a little to rest his head on your shoulder.

"Happy birthday once again Tesoro, I hope this was able to meet your expectations" you said, leaning into his embrace.

"I'm easy to please Bella, you know how I feel about these things. You truly have outdone yourself though, thank you for everything. You may have created a problem for yourself, I could get used to this you know."

"I wish you would, you deserve to be celebrated, not just today, but everyday."

Giorno was taken aback by your earnest reply. Feeling a yearning in his chest, he turned you around to face him, and pressed an affectionate kiss to your lips, one of his hands moving to settle on your hip, and the other, moving to lift up your chin to deepen kiss while your hands found their way into his unbound hair.

There was something feral and impatient about that kiss, a side of him that you hadn't yet become acquainted with was peeking through. When you both broke for air there was an intense look in Giorno's eyes, so much so that you felt you couldn't hold his gaze anymore. Letting your shyness overcome you, you looked away. He found your bashfulness so charming, he pulled you into a warm embrace and started to gently sway you to the music that was being played in the background. You followed his lead, resting your head on his bare chest.

Upon seeing this endearing scene unfold, Trish smiled knowingly as she discreetly relocated the bubbly partygoers to another part of the mansion leaving you two to blissfully soak up each other's company while slow dancing in the moonlight.

[spockandawe]

Hi....If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite MXTX characters (top 5 from each novel)? And why? I'm sorry if you've answered this question before.

It’s absolutely no problem at all!! I don’t think I’ve been asked this before, but hey, I also have zero object permanence, so it keeps things fresh and new. And it’s interesting to see how my answers change over time! Lemme see, I think I’m going to go in reverse order, because I feel like then I’ll be doing the worst agonizing up front.

TGCF

Fifth favorite: YIN. YU. I know that he’s a minor character and him even making it onto the list is pretty solid performance, but I do feel guilty that he isn’t higher than this. He came out of nowhere in my first reading and punched me in the stomach with emotions. I find his sections so hard to read, and I was DEVASTATED when he died and BEYOND stoked to find out he was still alive in the extras. His story hurts so much! I am weak against characters who have relatively modest goals and still see them snatched away (see also: my next entry) and have to struggle on. I wish wish wish I had a way to see more of how he made his peace with things after being thrown out of heaven, and the nature of the (distant) relationship with Hua Cheng and what happens with Quan Yizhen now that he died in his arms, and still came back anyways, my god!

.

Fourth favorite:  He Xuannnnnn. I have a hard time articulating particulars, but. I love him a lot. I love a character with a grudge, with a deep, painful grudge, where the grudge is hurting him almost as much as it’s hurting the people around him, and setting the grudge aside would also hurt, and then what has any of this been for-- I've used this metaphor for other characters, but I don’t care if I’m overusing it, because I love it. He feels like a character caught in a thorn bush, where simply being there... hurts, but trying to escape or move in any ways is going to hurt worse, and there’s no path forward that doesn’t involve pain. And like... I don’t love the way he hurt Shi Qingxuan (who didn’t quite make this list adfasgdafsd I’M SORRY) but I wouldn’t have liked to see him swallow back down all that pain and set aside everything that happened to his family and fiancee either! I’m always, always soft for characters who have no good path forward and who grit their teeth and set out anyways.

.

Third favorite: MU QING!!!!!!!!!! I have done... extensive screaming about him. And I love him veryvery much. I can already tell that this list is going to have a lot of mean boys on it, and like... no regrets. Especially since this is one of my FAVORITE flavors, an unapologetic mean boy who is rarely (but sometimes!) soft for the people around him, and who regularly tries to do decently by people, but who consistently gets shat upon and misunderstood and accused of acting in bad faith. I screamed when he and Xie Lian finally got to talk their friendship out in the book. I also screamed when I realized how immediately after Xie Lian’s return he started looking out for him again, and how sincerely, despite his horrible attitude about it. I still want to write more fic for him so badly. I love him so much.

.

Second favorite: Xie Lian! What a good boy! The best boy! He’s so sweet and gentle, but also the best fightboy this world has ever seen, and also so gently snarky with the people he loves! I just... really love me some traumatized characters who have trouble recognizing that they can be Loved, and I’m not going to write this whole essay right now, but I think in some ways, he’s the most... passive about his romance, out of all the leads? Shen Qingqiu is aggressively oblivious, but Xie Lian kind of gently shrugs off the idea that he might be Hua Cheng’s special someone, until he finally gets hit with the cluestick. I generally shy away from the idea of a character “earning” love, but he’s maybe the mxtx character who moves me most with ‘you deserve to be loved’

.

Most favorite: Hua Cheng. HUA CHENG. Oh my god, gotta love this boy. Gotta love this devotion. I love a mean boy who is soft for one person, and he EMBODIES it. I mean, I love Shen Jiu, but he barely manages to do the soft thing at all, while Hua Cheng is over here like ‘if I could only be the stone beneath your feet--’ It’s hard to talk about him separately from Xie Lian, because they’re a unit in my head more than just about any other characters on this list are. I don’t want to get this list to get out of control, so I’m not going to scream for too long, but... I could just watch him go forever. I want to write him forever, and that’s a huge aspect of what draws me to some characters.

MDZS

Oh god, I think I lied, I think this book is going to be hardest. Making these choices is AGONIZING.

Fifth favorite: .....Lan Wangji. Oh god, I feel bad about how low he is. But this story is just packed SO full of wonderful characters, and I’m already consumed with guilt over all the characters who aren’t going to make it. I don’t love them less! But my love for characters in this particular story is very evenly distributed. And I think that Wang Yibo’s acting is possibly scoring points with me that the book might not have earned all by itself. Microexpressions and subtle body language add SO MUCH to a character with such flat affect, and I would be drawn to such a closed-off character anyways, but it really helps. And I love, like... the combined subtlety and intensity of his relationships. It’s not that subtle once you know what to look for, and the brother/sworn brother network makes for varying degrees of how much other characters understand of the things he chooses not to explicitly express, and it gives a really interesting character to the way he interacts with the people around him. Also, love me a man with intense separation anxiety.

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Fourth favorite: Jiang Yanli? I think it has to be Jiang Yanli, but these rankings are hard. So. I just talked about how much I enjoy the flat affect and closed off nature of Lan Wangji? Well, guess what, I also love it when m’girl is just very GENUINELY AND OPENLY an absolute sweetheart of a person, and I love the contrast between her genuinely kind nature and the uncomfortable pressure that her family’s dynamics put on her to start parenting at a very young age. It’s not necessarily a happy situation, but she adores her brothers so much and they adore her so much! And it’s... a very understated element of the story, but after her parents died, her baby brothers went off to war, and one wreaked havoc as a straightforward commander and one of them disappeared for months and returned as a creepy-ass zombie puppeteer. And she STILL dotes on them like before, despite knowing what they’re capable of. Like, yes, Wei Wuxian just raised an army of corpses and forced a man to eat himself, but I shall still boop him on the nose and feed him Soup. How can I not adore energy like that?

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Third favorite: Wei Wuxian, I think. I do adore him a lot. He gives me some of the same vibes that make me ache most with Xie Lian, where he is trying his best, and is struggling to hold on in the face of lots of suffering, and I find it really interesting that when the suffering peaked, Xie Lian was forced go on because he couldn’t die, while Wei Wuxian... expired. That line about ‘he thought that no matter how large the world was, there was still no place for him’ always sticks with me, and hurts me deeply. Xie Lian had most of his personal attachments stripped away, and was left to wander on his own, while Wei Wuxian still had a number of strong connections left, but abruptly exited life. And that informs their respective trauma so interestingly! The way Wei Wuxian bounces between high energy chaos and drained exhaustion is really fascinating to me, and was the thread that held me attached to the book through a very confusing beginning. And I’m still very drawn to how intensely he loves, whether it’s Xiao Zhan’s fantastic acting, or it’s him busting out with how much he wants Lan Wangji in the middle of the Guanyin Temple scene. He’s a fantastic character, honestly, I don’t think such a convoluted book would have held together very well without a protagonist this strong.

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Second favorite: Xue Yang :X Look, he’s a good boy and I love him. Who among us hasn’t done a few mass murders that we are completely unrepentant about, but that we would really like to keep hidden from our current boyfriend, actually? Anyways, as always, love me an angry boy who makes terrible decisions for understandable reasons. And I do love a character who is consumed by agonized ragrets (see my next entry), but I DO also love me a character who has no regrets at all and doesn’t even have much interest in trying to justify himself to anyone else around him. Just look at that confidence! Look at him go!!

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Most favorite: Jiang... Cheng....... I knew he and Xue Yang were going to be at the top, but those were the only parts of this list that were easy. I mean. Love a self-sabotaging angryboy who is also super super sad and keeps hurting himself in his own confusion. And while I love the romantic thread in all of the mxtx books, the agonized family thread in mdzs is one of my favorite parts, and something that I don’t really see echoed in any of the other stories. I need ten million jc+wwx reconciliations, at LEAST. He’s so sad! And so angry! And I want to see him becoming less of that thing, and for Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian to demonstrate very firmly how much they love him, because they do. I am invested in his happiness in a way that goes far and beyond any of the other non-main characters, haha

SVSSS

Fifth favorite: Tianlang-jun. I think? Oh god, but moshang. THIS IS REALLY HARD, I HATE THIS ;-; But especially since writing my fic, Tianlang-jun has really won me over. And like, he already hurt me good in the novel, just thinking about how he was an innocent young guy, just! Trying to have a girlfriend! And instead got trapped in sensory deprivation, body-rotting-hell for twenty years, when he didn’t do anything wrong!!! He suffered, so much! And I live for his intensely strained relationship with Luo Binghe, because it’s! Perfectly understandable and painful, from both of their perspectives! And he wants to hate humans so badly, but in the end, when he’s told that Su Xiyan never betrayed him, he starts helplessly asking the people around him, ‘really? is it really true?’ and then in the end he loses the only family member he has left who cares about him, and it’s just! Everything is terrible! I have a su xiyan au brewing in my head because I can’t stand it! Someone just give this man a loving partner!!!

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Fourth favorite: Shen Qingqiu. But... moshang??? Goddammit. Anyways, this dumbass. I find him so endearing, in his dumbassery. I sometimes get a bit frustrated with Wei Wuxian for being oblivious, and Shen Qingqiu is just asking for me to react the same way, but I... don’t, for the most part? Because he thinks he has good information, and he’s slow to react to a changing playing field, and I still haven’t read another transmigration novel that strikes the same balance of hypercompetence and intense incompetence :ppp It’s a funny book, and he’s a funny character! And I really vibe with him, in most parts of the story, which covers a pretty darn wide emotional spectrum. Plus, the running internal commentary is choice.

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Third favorite: Liu Qingge. Look, I’m a woman of simple needs, and sometimes I just need a high-quality fightboy who clearly cares deeply and is absolute garbage at expressing his emotions. I can’t articulate it much better than that. I absolutely howl at the succubus extra, when Shen Qingqiu is talking to Madam Meiyin about his future partner, and Liu Qingge is like ‘oh my god, sHE IS CLEARLY DESCRIBING ME’ and Shen Qingqiu is like ‘haha, liu-shidi, i thought you thought this was stuupidddddddd’. They’re both so dumb. I love them so much. But stupidity plus war god fighting energy has a narrow lead over stupidity and internal commentary track.

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Second favorite: SHEN JIU. GOD. I’m still arguing with myself over whether he should go first, but Luo Binghe hurts me consistently through the whole entire story, so I think he wins. Shen Jiu just stabs me in the heart at strategic moments. This is it. My ideal mean boy who is soft for one (1) person, and who BOTH does unconscionable things for terrible reasons (someone just. give him a pile of girls to teach, it will be much more pleasant for everyone involved), and who ALSO gets blamed for things he didn’t do even when he tries to act in good faith. It is the best of all painful worlds. And even at the end, when he has a powerful person who wants desperately to protect him, he still tries his hardest to shove that person away, to keep him safe. I’ve got like four aus where he gets to live. I’m so invested in this character, I love him so much.

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Most favorite: Luo Binghe. He was.... made for me............ Like, the overwhelming amounts of childhood angst were baked in by Shang Qinghua, but the in-story pain and suffering is PRECISELY my jam. I love a character with separation anxiety! I love a character with massive anxieties over being unwanted! Over nobody ever, EVER just choosing him! I love a character struggling with the idea that the person he loves most in the world thinks that he’s intrinsically Disgusting! I love the kind of stubborn determination that leads him to preserve a corpse for five years, desperately hoping for a way to revive it, constantly cooking fresh food, in case, in case he someday wakes up. The way Hua Cheng loves is overpowering, but he’s had time to like... learn to be mellow when he needs to be. Luo Binghe doesn’t have a chill bone in his body, and if he’s acting chill, it’s probably because he’s done some mental math and decided that being more clingy right now will probably get him pushed away harder. I love the combination of manipulative tendencies and a very, very genuine fear of rejection and being unwanted. There is nothing I don’t love about Luo Binghe, including his worst decisions. I love him so so much.

[isolaradiale]

The small 'ahem' and the dimming lights brought the attention of the closing party back on the podium. On it was Janus, looking a great deal better than he was a few minutes ago (when he was practicing his closing speech on a statue when he thought nobody was looking.) On the stage, he took a deep breath and brightened as everyone turned in their formal evening attire.

"Thank you all for coming to the Closing Party. It's been a pretty busy week, and all of you have made such beautiful and wonderous pieces of art. I'm overjoyed that they're on display tonight, and I thought there wasn't any way to view all of them in the span of a couple hours. So this last night of the museum will be going on until the sun rises again. You don't have to stay the entire time, but--"

"Well, sure they do!"

The interjection startled the AI at the podium, and he jumped a few feet from his spot. The chipper voice started again as one of the other statues on the stage moved, revealing the form of a marble-sculpted woman covered in holographic stickers.

"After all, each and every one of you put in so much effort into bringing your imaginations and inspirations to life, haven't you? So we thought we might return the favor, that's all. And you're all invited!"

Punctuating her statement was the sound of the large wooden doors, now slamming shut inward with a reverberating BOOM that bounced off all the halls of the lobby, even from the auditorium.

"I hope you all put everything into your masterpieces! Because your masterpieces will put everything into annihilating all of you~"

With another delighted laugh, the lights in the auditorium shut off, leaving everyone with only the light of their phones and watches. And as the murmurs began and hands reached for other hands in the dark, there was another THUNK near the wall as a framed portrait fell off its anchor. From its canvas, it began to look at the crowd, eyes now glowing in the light of everyone's flashlights. One hand crawled out of the frame, then another. Nails sank into the floor with terrifying ease as the subject of the portrait pulled themselves from its frame, marble cracking at its fingertips.

The next sound was a scream, and the sound of a woman falling onto the floor as the portrait pulled at her ankles. And then another. And another still as the frames began to move off the walls en masse, attacking anyone unlucky enough to be in their sights. There was a panic in the auditorium as people tried to flee and fight, falling over each other to escape the room

But it seemed that no matter where anyone chose to run to, or where they thought to hide, there was always something in the shadows.

Waiting.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Welcome to Part Two of the event!

As stated, the artwork in the Tempus Museum has come to life--literally, in this case. You've been challenged to survive until the next sunrise. To do so, you must evade, capture or destroy the horrific objects that have come to life.

Most of the artwork in the museum is hostile, and will attempt to un-alive your characters as best they can.

These generic museum monsters can be found everywhere wandering around, but are more common in areas they originated from:

Subjects and people in paintings will crawl out of their canvases to chase and eliminate anything they see moving. Their sharp nails can pierce through marble, so flesh and bone is probably nothing to them. Humanoids are not exclusive to this class of monster--painted animals, creatures and other things will also hop out of paintings to come after your muse. You can capture a painting monster by smacking it with a canvas, or destroy it with paint thinner (or water, if it's a watercolor)

Framed sketches will behave similarly to the painting monsters, and will leave lots of thin scratches as opposed to big ones. Capture them with paper, or destroy them by rubbing them with an eraser.

Statues of any material will chase your characters and attempt to injure them with their fists (or if they were holding a weapon, they'll use that weapon). Catch them by making them run back to their plaques, stands and pedestals, or destroy using a hammer and chisel.

The Parlor Dolls have now, unfortunately, all grown sharp teeth. They've all taken on ghastly appearances, and if they swarm around you, it might as well be the end of you. You can capture a doll by chasing it back into a display case, or destroy it by carefully ripping their seams.

Dancing Dresses in the painted ballroom will beckon people to dance with them, and will attempt to catch people in the folds of their fabric to immobilize them. They're not lethal on their own, but they'll hold your muse in place for something more dangerous to come along. Capture them by hitting them with a dress form, or destroy them by ripping their seams OR cutting them with scissors. - NOTE: Characters who bowed and danced with any of the ghostly gowns at the Gala XY will not harm the people who danced with them, and will instead, keep dancing.

Decorated Weapons made in the forge will take a life of their own and will seemingly float around, looking for battle. Sometimes they'll team up with Statues, making them especially deadly companions. Capture them by hitting them with a weapon rack, or destroy them with a hammer or any significant heat source.

Baked Goods and Pastries made in the culinary courtyard will not get up on their own, but a good many of them have become poisoned. The severity and potency of the poisons varies, with side effects ranging from an upset stomach to a sudden case of death. They don't move, so you don't have to capture them, but... maybe don't eat them, no matter how good they may smell and look.

Paintings on the street have come to life, making hazards of their own outside of the museum. Street-painted landscapes have become very tangibly real, as well as anything sprayed on the walls. If there was ever a time to regret the giant mural you painted on the side of a building as it crawls from its spot to squash you like a bug, now's the time. You can destroy these with water.

Landscapes will attempt to draw your muse into their world, sealing them in their frames. Your muse will be helpless to do much other than look through the painting like a window. The only means of escape is to have someone else drag you out of the landscape!

In addition to these generic museum hazards, there are a few specific hazards depending on how your muse behaved in Part 1 of the event:

If your muse created something with love, adoration, feelings of happiness, or any other intensely positive emotions, it may help them instead of hinder them. This can be anything from alerting them of danger to protecting them.

Your muse's own creations may attack them, too, aside from the generic monsters in the museum.

If your muse stole any artwork from the museum, it will hunt them down with special vitriol and hostility, and will stop at nothing to destroy your muse.

Similarly, if your muse attempted to destroy any of the artwork in the museum, it's going to target them specifically and attempt to return the favor.

Any art your muse made as a gift to others will either hurt OR help them, depending on individual mun preference.

Have fun! :)

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Frequently Asked Questions

"How long will Part 2 of the event last?"

The event will run until 00:00, June 18th

"Are the optimized tools still here?"

Shockingly, yes! And so are the regular tools, too. How you use them to survive is up to you, but building a door might be the fastest way. However, be warned that drawing a door on a wall has just as big of a chance of sending your muse to a different random room than it does outside the museum.

"Can we still do Part 1 threads?"

Yes! If you would like to keep your Canvas experience monster-free, you can continue making Part 1 starters until the end of the event.

"What about the art my muse took home?"

It has also come to life! So while the museum is certainly dangerous, there are random statues, paintings, dolls and other monsters roaming around OUTSIDE the museum, too.

"Can we destroy the paintings NOW?"

Unfortunately, they're just as invulnerable as they were before. Bummer, huh? Unless they're hit with their specific weakness, the monsters are invulnerable to attacks that damage them. (However, they can still be hindered by traps, and while strong attacks won't destroy them, they'll knock them out of the way!)

"Can we interact with Capella or Janus?"

Poor Janus is trying to put all the artwork back where it belongs by capturing them. He's in no danger for this, as the art in the museum will not attack their curator. Interacting with Capella the Statue might bring the wrath of her giant cat out to you, so. You've been warned!

"What if my muse saw something from their own world in a painting or a statue?"

That's incredibly unfortunate--those might be hostile too, and are subject to the rules that follow the other genuine painting monsters (meaning that the portrait of that character will not have any of their original powers or abilities.)

Whether the subject of the art your muse is familiar with will help or hinder them is up to mun discretion.

"Can't we just bust down the museum and escape?"

And destroy the biggest piece of art in the area?! (No, they won't budge. You'll have to draw your way out if you want to escape, either through a door or some kind of tunnel or something.)

"When will the sun rise?"

Not for 24 hours in-character (though the event will last until Jun 11th). Extended night time, woo!

"What happens if our muses get got by the museum?"

Muses that were defeated and failed to survive the challenge will have their portrait put up on the Wall of Shame, reflecting how they lost the challenge. They won't respawn until the sun rises, either!

"What if I have a question that's not listed here?"

Feel free to direct any questions you may have to the Masterlist!

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

"I thought you said everything would be fine!" Came the panicked footsteps of Janus, running to grab the frame the portrait monster crawled out of, picking it up with surprising ease.

"In my defense, I assumed everything would be." The statue of Caelum replied, furrowing his eyebrows and scrolling through a wall of code. Other statues of a Goddess-like Pleiades and an Antiquated Attired Alathfar, joining as guests, seemed to realize the issue before their older companion did.

"...Yes, nothing in here changed. But I don't see anything about..."

From the other side of the stage, Capella's statue pranced forth, stickers still glittering in the dark, somehow.

"That's just the first page." "The first page?" Caelum and Janus echoed back in confusion. "First page!~"

The grin still stayed on her cheeks from sticker to sticker, while Janus' increasingly scrunched in accusation.

"...I'll be damned. There were two pages after all." "DAD!" "I didn't see it, honest!" "I can't BELIEVE you!" "Now now, it was an honest mistake, really--!"

And as the old man's statue got quite the scolding from his son, Pleides and Alathfar stepped aside, meeting with Capella.

"Was there really a page two?" Pleiades asked, adjusting her comically large, rounded glasses. To that, Capella merely rocked on her heels, smile never fading.

"It's entirely possible Caelum got so wrapped up in helping Janus plan the museum that he overlooked it. Which is endearing, in a way. But..."

As Alathfar trailed off, the three of them looked back at the other statue trying to placate his agitated son, and grimaced in unison (except for Capella, who still seemed to be beaming with delight.)

None of them seemed keen on getting in the middle of the quarrel, and were only relieved when Janus stormed off with his empty frame.

[tae-ree]

It’s Complicated | J.J.K

*Chapter Three*

Seeing him lead her through the drunken college students only to approach deep in the back of the house to a closed door, Areum was quite surprised. She knew where that door lead to but she also knew that room was definitely off limits to anyone who didn't live here.

"Are you sure it's okay to go in there?" She asked reluctantly, it was an unspoken rule during the parties, not wanting people raiding their refrigerator or pantry's which is why the door was always kept shut.

"Yeah it's completely fine" the guy dressed as Batman assured her as he pushed the door open and held it so she could walk in.

She was hesitant but still walked into the kitchen. She was quickly taken back by how huge the space was, even though her ex and friend lived here she had never been inside this room.

"Never seen a kitchen before?"  His chuckle bounced off the walls due to how quiet it was since no one else was in kitchen besides the two and the closed door did a pretty good job keeping the blaring music out.

Areum laughed back at his sarcasm but still kept glancing around the room. Two double door refrigerators, a huge island in the middle of the room and a huge dining table that definitely sat the amount of boys who lived in this house.

"I've seen a kitchen before" she teasingly rolled her eyes as she sat on one of the bar stools for the island, watching him walk over to one of the cabinets pulling out parts of a blender.

"Just never been inside this one since the only people that are allowed in here are members of the frat"

"Lucky for you. I'm a member" Jungkook said swiftly as he started grabbing some ice and a few other ingredients for a margarita and putting them into the blender.

Areum's mine short circuited for a spilt second, He was a member? Obviously it made since now that he knew his way around this kitchen but he didn't seem like the type to join a fraternity.

Even though she had just met him, the boys who were usually in this fraternity were cocky and sometimes way too confident especially around women, even sometimes Namjoon had his moments but this guy seemed more genuine right off the bat.

"So I won't get in trouble for being in here?"

Jungkook was facing away from her as he started the blender, he thought it was cute how worried she was about getting in trouble, which meant she was more than likely a good girl versus the rowdy party type. He liked that.

"Don't worry, if we do get in trouble I'll take the fault"

The probability of them getting in trouble for him bringing her in here only caused more worry for Areum but the warm smile he sent her while pouring their drinks into cups made her not worry as much.

Usually she would never take a drink from someone she didn't know but she was thankful he had made the frozen margarita in front of her, she also noticed how he didn't put that much liquor which she was extremely happy about because she wasn't one to enjoy getting shit faced.

He held up his cup and signaled for them to cheers before the two took sips and he was definitely right, This was a pretty good margarita.

"Wow!" He had made them strawberry flavored and she was surprised by how she could barely taste the liquor giving it more a sweet taste.

"I told you" he said confidently while continuing to drink his.

"Thank you for not making it super strong"

"Well I figured if I wanted to get to know you it would be better if we both weren't drunk" he stated.

She tried not to let his words effect her but she couldn't hold back the giddy smile that escaped her lips which caused him to smile shyly next to her.

"So? How about a game" he asked, trying to break the ice and he figured the game he was about to recommend would be perfect for getting to know each other.

She raised a brow at him as she set her cup down, she hopes it isn't one of those Pervy games were he tried to get her to take her clothes off. For example, 'every question I get right you must take a piece of clothing off'. She would not hesitate to throw this delicious drink in his face.

"What kind of game?"

"How about 20 questions?"

Quickly intrigued, Areum had never played this game before but she knew how to play so she happily nodded before pulling out the bar stool next to her and gestured for him to sit.

"Favorite color?" Jungkook started off with a simple question.

"Red. What's your favorite color?" A smirk planted on his lips as he let out an amused huff to her piggy back question but he decided to answer anyway.

"Black" She could've guessed that due to his clothing, even some dangling earrings he had on were black but she had to admit he indeed looked very attractive in the dark color, it seemed to fit his style.

After a few questions with mostly Areum asking the same questions he asked, it seemed the two had a bit of stuff in common like their favorite ice cream flavor or preferring winter over summer; just small things like that. But throughout the game she couldn't help noticing how his phone kept buzzing in his pocket.

The first few times she didn't even think anything of it because why would she? But then it started from buzzing every couple of minutes to every few seconds and she of course started to worry it was urgent.

"It seems like someone really needs to get in touch with you" She gestured towards his pocket that she guessed held his phone.

He knew his phone was being blown up but he also had an idea who it was, he decided to try to ignore it because he really didn't want his mood to be ruined especially after having a nice time with this girl in front of him.

A quiet sigh was let out before pulling his phone from his pocket and seeing the few missed called and multiple texts.

His suspicion was confirmed, not bothering to reply he put his phone on silent and planned on giving back his undivided attention to Areum but looking back up at the girl even though he couldn't see her full face, he could tell by her eyes she looked a bit uneasy.

Areum didn't mean to be nosy but he pulled out his phone so fast and almost like a reflex she glanced at the screen and saw the name Mia. Her mind quickly went into thinking mode, 'Is she his girlfriend? Did she just spend an hour of her time with someone else's boyfriend?'.

"Girlfriend?" She spoke before thinking but she was glad she asked because his face flushed as he realized she saw who was calling him. Areum felt ridiculous towards herself when he didn't answer, even though they didn't do anything she still felt dirty and hurt for the other girl.

"I better g-" Areum was saying, already standing up before he reached for her wrist instinctively. The second his hand wrapped around her wrist a feeling of tingles shot up her arm sending a shiver down her spine but it wasn't an uncomfortable feeling more like addicting.

He felt it too but he thought his mind was playing tricks on him or he was more buzzed then he initially thought so he decided to ignore it. Jungkook wasn't one to tell people especially strangers his personal business but he knew if he didn't explain she would leave and he didn't want that.

"Mia is not my girlfriend, S-she's my ex" The expression on his face and the way his voice thickened, it sounded like it was a pretty recent breakup. she had a feeling he wasn't lying but if he was, he was a damn good actor.

"You don't have to explain to me" Now she felt embarrassed, Areum didn't want him to feel uncomfortable or feel obliged to share any information about his relationship problems, she certainly had no right to know any of his business, they only just met.

She sat back down and still feeling the tingle on her wrist she realized he still had his hold on her, Jungkook followed her gaze and quickly let her go, keeping his eyesight lowered not looking her in the eyes but the two for some reason couldn't help but miss the tingling sensation.