#guess who had to split the second half of this post in half AGAIN

[jayflying]

And why is Martyn... Like That? (No Stranger Curses AU)

[Part 1] (Part 2: "Spiraling in unreality.") [Part 3]

The first thing Martyn realizes is that he's not dead. This is a horrifying premise, considering the last thing he remembers doing was blowing himself up on purpose.

The second thing he realizes is that he remembers. In the first game, he had remembered nothing. In the second game, he'd remembered the first, but the memories were sparse and hazy. This time, though? He remembers everything.

He remembers how he met with BigB. He remembers how they found the games. He remembers how it felt to wake up without remembering anything at all. He remembers forsaking the morals he had once fought so hard to rebuild, and making an enemy of the friend he had come here to find. He remembers building, and learning, and loving, and lying, and fighting, and dying, and waking back up to do it all over again.

Is he about to do it all over again? Where is he, anyway?

A quick scan of his surroundings informs him, a hill. A closer look clarifies, a hill in the middle of a forest. He finds this significantly less helpful than he was anticipating. A search of his inventory leaves his hands buzzing with magic but doesn't turn up anything useful either.

The communicator strapped to his belt chimes all too cheerfully. Welcome to Double Life, its notification declares, and his heart sinks.

It takes Martyn two minutes to read the rules presented to him in their entirety, twenty seconds to process the implications, and three hours to realize that something about this new game is wrong.

Maybe he's just being paranoid. Maybe it's just his mind playing tricks on him. Maybe his fear has him chasing shadows.

But the afternoon sun has no warmth. Animals behave like they barely notice him. The wind through the trees sounds more like static– in fact, nothing sounds quite right. His surroundings seem to waver whenever he looks away. And when he finally runs into other people, only some of them seem to recognize something is off.

(None of them seem to hear it. The blank lack of recognition in their eyes makes his heartbeat stutter with a sudden panic. He doesn't mention his concerns again.) Either his senses are failing him, he's losing his mind, or not all of this is actually real. Maybe even some combination of all three. He decides on the spot that, as much as the thought of isolation still hurts, still makes a tight knot out of something deep in his chest, he'd rather be having this imminent mental breakdown as far away from other people as possible.

(Something in his mind screams at him desperately, no, no, no, why are you leaving, you'll never see them again– and yet he grits his teeth and keeps moving forward. For all he knows, they could still all be ghosts. He can't bring himself to check.)

Pearl's inability to take a hint is her own damn fault. He remembers now, so why doesn't she? Why doesn't she know him well enough to recognize how his excuses ring hollow? Going to the Nether, in the first week— screw that! What rational reason would he have to actually want that? And yet, even without remembering him, she looks him in the lie and follows him regardless. Well now he has to commit to his own stupidity.

(They talk as they go. She describes the soulbond as a heartbeat in time with her own, a comforting background noise in her head. Martyn doesn't feel it. Which is fine. He doesn't need anyone else in his head.)

…Cleo. His bond is to Cleo. The heartbeat thing really should've been a hint. He presents his efforts to her and is resoundingly rejected. Her words cut straight to the heart, and his face burns. There is so much venom in her words, in her posture… but there's nothing in her eyes. No emotion at all. (Maybe he's just being paranoid.)

The more he looks for it, the more he finds it. While some of them seem to be real, others have that hollow gaze, and with it, other things that aren't quite right. None of those empty stares seem to fear death. None of them seem to remember. Oh, they speak and smile and act well enough, but that's all it is. Acting. He refuses to fall for a trick he's already mastered. He can just keep his distance. He won't fall for this.

Cleo backs down, even if only in secret. She doesn't apologize as much as she traces the outline of an apology and leaves him to read between the lines. He knows for a fact that's the best he would ever get from her, even if any of this was actually real.

He shouldn't care about her approval. It shouldn't bring him as much relief, as much hope, as much happiness as it does. It makes him angry to feel his own heart soar at such a little thing. His pride knows he's better than this! He can't be chasing shadows. He can't be falling for an echo, a specter, a lie.

It takes three months for his patience, his sanity, his willingness to play along with this delusion, to snap. He's not quite sure what does it. Maybe it's the fact Cleo finally apologizes to his face for the way she rejected him. Maybe it's because he knows she would never do that. His chest feels tight with the turmoil of it all. His whole body shudders with every beat of his heart, and for a moment, he wonders if the thing pretending to be Cleo can feel the way he shakes.

Martyn pushes her, and there is no remorse. He watches her fall as he tries something he hasn't attempted since the end of the Southlands. He prays for salvation. To whatever might be listening. To whoever might be there.

(In his defense, he would've tried it earlier if he'd known it was going to work this time.)

[arolesbianism]

In other news Odile crashed my game during her friend quest. Smiles in pain.

[kumkaniudaku]

Sorry 2024

Summary: This is Terry's sorry for 2024. He ain't gonna mess up no more this year.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: None

Previous: *Askew

Pastel blue light filtered through linen curtains and filled the quaint kitchen while Patrice maneuvered between the refrigerator and nearby counter. She spoke a mile a minute, running through a laundry list of important tasks and updates to keep Terry aware of the day’s needs. 

He halfway listened while he scarfed down piping hot oatmeal to satisfy post-workout hunger and used his index finger to scrub backward on game film from the previous week. His receiver core was shaky at best. They’d need to tighten up in the final game of the season if they planned to start their playoff run strong and remain in the hunt for a the ever elusive state championship.

“Honey, don’t forget I’m driving your truck to work because you’re getting my oil changed during your lunch. Where are the keys?” The sugar-sweet lilt in her voice reserved for Terry and Terry only went mostly unnoticed by her husband. 

“Yeah. That’s good, baby.”

Patrice paused packing her lunch and shifted her weight to one side with a hand on her hip. “You’re not even listening to me.” 

“I heard you,” he answered, finally looking up. 

“What did I say?” 

“That you’re taking the leftovers. That’s good with me. I’ll grab something on base.” 

“I said that fifteen minutes ago. Strike two.” 

Terry’s mouth hung open for a half second as he thought back through their one-sided conversation. Admittedly, his mind was split into a million different streams of thought. Work problems, coaching responsibilities, household bills, the incoming holiday season, and its host of arrangements all fought for his attention day in and day out, leaving little room for intentional quality time with his wife. 

For Patrice, the indifference toward her when she talked to him was frustrating and getting old. On too many occasions she’d forgiven him for staring off into space or flat-out ignoring her when she spoke. If silence is what he wanted, she was well on the way to granting his wish. 

Swallowing down a gulp of water, Terry rushed to respond. “Woah, woah! Two? What was the first?” 

“I asked you to turn the dryer on last night while I took a shower and guess who woke up to wet clothes this morning? C’mon. Guess!” 

“Oh, shit.” Terry’s face contorted as he winced at the memory finally returning. 

“Oh shit. Go away.” She mocked with an exaggerated deep voice before rolling her eyes and making a face. Mimicry, in his experience since the tender age of 15, was usually the prelude to a vicious attitude that had turned many into sworn enemies for life.

“My bad, Treece. I started wa-” 

“Watching tape and forgot. Sing me a different song, Terrence.” 

The disappointment etched in her beautiful features sent Terry’s stomach into the soles of his feet. Patrice’s full lips sagged into a heavy frown as she wrestled food containers into her lunchbox without looking in his direction. He could take her mumbling her anger or sending more than a few curse words his way. But the sadness in her silence was too much. 

After pressing pause on his screen, Terry took measured steps toward Patrice to avoid disturbing an angry lion. 

He touched her hip first to test the waters. When she didn’t reject him, he moved in to take up space behind her and pull her back against his body. He pressed a soft kiss behind her ear. “I won’t make excuses. Forgive me, sweetheart. It won’t happen again.” 

Resistance faded slowly but surely as he nuzzled his nose into her neck between kisses. Tense muscles melted under his touch, relishing the extra attention meant to settle a disagreement. Anger fought to remain the chief emotion. Everything in her wanted to continue forging a war path until she was satisfied with the destruction. But she’d always had a weakness for this man with a smooth baritone and big hands that he loved to rub up and down her body.

She kissed her teeth before turning to plant a kiss on his cheek as a silent truce. “Whatever. You’re lucky I like you more than most other people.” 

“What I gotta do to get that like to a love before you leave the house?” 

Patrice pulled Terry’s bottom lip into another kiss and smiled. “It’d be great if you confirmed you used your mama’s Costco card to get the study hall snacks like we talked about.” 

Terry froze. For days he’d had the nagging feeling that he was neglecting a task. Something important but vague among all of the other thoughts and responsibilities swirling in his head. He’d hoped for a reminder, but not like this, not on the heels of wriggling his way out of Patrice’s wrath only moments before. 

Ever perceptive, Patrice didn’t need him to speak to know that he’d, once again, missed a memo. Anger was back from its short hiatus and making her body hot to the touch in a way Terry had been spared from his entire life. 

She fought to wrestle free from his grasp, her body thrashing until he relented and let her go. Terry watched her stomp around the kitchen, snatching items from the counter and forcing them into her bag on her way to the front door. He remained hot on her heels with pleas to make things right on his lips until she stopped short at the coat closet.

“Strike three! You’re so fuckin’ selfish sometimes, Terry, I swear.” She grumbled as she swapped her car keys for his on their shared personal items hook. “I thought you would grow out of that by now but here you are, damn near 33 years old, and still doing the same shit.”  

The dig at his past transgressions stung more than Terry expected. He tried to maintain his composure though the wounded man inside wanted to get to the bottom of why she’d chosen to toss such an insult out so casually. 

He took a deep breath to quell the combative questions clawing through his throat while he watched her shrug on her coat with spite in her eyes. “Look, I messed up. We don’t need to start throwing jabs back and forth. How can I help?”

His attempt to reach out for her hand was thwarted once she snatched away to yank open the front door.

“Terrence, the time to help was early this week. Hell, last night even. I don’t have time for your sorry this morning. I gotta go figure this out by myself yet again.” 

Immense guilt attached itself to Terry, producing a heavy heart as he tried to make sense of Patrice’s most venomous blowup to date. Never had she been so crass toward him, not even when he deserved it most. She’d always been the pinnacle of grace and forgiveness. What scared him most was the suspicion that she was more unhappy with his disappearing act than she’d let on in all their honest talks about their path forward after heartbreak. Half of him wanted to chase her into the early morning chill, stop her from leaving, and convince her to call in so that they could sort through every issue, past and present, until they were back on the right side of newlywed bliss. Rational thought told him that some things were best solved through action.

Bitterness fueled the remainder of Patrice’s day. Jokes in the breakroom were no longer funny. Her class clowns were less charming by fourth period. A fierce bout of irritability resulted in a pop quiz for her senior AP English class for not participating in the group discussion to her liking. Every second of every minute carried a dark, heavy cloud that she couldn’t shake. 

She wanted to scream at Terry until her chest caved in from exhaustion. She wanted to throw things across the room, destroying every item in her path until the sting of compounded letdowns, actions he wasn’t even responsible for, was distilled back into the tiny box of rage she kept tucked away in her heart. She kept it hidden on purpose. If it ever got loose, there was no guarantee she could fix the damage it left behind. 

Once school bells had rang and children were carted off to their respective homes, Patrice sat behind her desk with a small committee of cheerleaders congregating in her classroom. She kept her focus on grading the mountain of quizzes she’d created for herself, silently ready to give everyone extra credit for the attempt. 

“Ms. Ellis,” Alana, her captain, started as she dusted Doritos remnants from her fingers. 

Mikayla cut in. “It’s Mrs. Richmond now. She got married! You see her ring.”

“And you ain’t invite us?” Alana gasped, pretending to be offended. “That’s cold Mrs. Richmond. I thought we were cool.” 

“We’re cool, Lana. I didn’t know I was getting married until it happened. No one was invited.” 

“Can I at least see that big ol’ diamond up close?” 

Young girls with fairytales and romance novels seared into their perception of love begged for a chance to see Patrice’s wedding band up close. With more energy, she would shoo them away and redirect them to the bulletin board they abandoned to snack and gossip amongst each other. But arguments before work were taxing and all she could bring herself to do was push away from her desk and join them in the center of their circle with her hand outstretched for their inspection.

Oooh, ahhs, and everything in between overlapped as each young lady took her turn running their fingers up against the clear stone and white gold band engraved with her new initials. 

“I want me a ring just like this!” Camille explained as she took a picture to send to her boyfriend. 

“Can we see your husband? Is he nice like you?” 

Patrice paused. “Uh…yeah. He’s a nice man. You all should be with nice boys, or girls, or whoever you like. Don’t allow anyone to be anything less than nice to you.” 

“Okay, but can we see him,” another girl reiterated. 

“It’s Coach Richmond, duh,” Mikayla exclaimed. “They got the same last name. And they was in this old yearbook together. I saw it in Ms. Shields's class when we were having a yearbook meetin’.” 

More oohs and ahhs, this time fawning over the new football coach on campus and the picture Mikayla had saved to her cellphone. Patrice listened to them gush over the thorn in her side as she eased into a desk to take the pressure off her aching feet. 

Camille looked between the photo and Patrice with a smile. “He was your boyfriend when y’all went here?” 

“For a little bit. Right before we graduated. But we broke up that summer.” 

“How come?”

“He wanted to go to the military and I wanted to go to college,” Patrice answered after a deep sigh. “So, he went his way and I went mine because I wasn’t changing my mind. Remember that. Do what you wanna do. You have a whole life ahead of you.” 

The girls all mumbled some version of their agreeance before another question pushed the tea session forward. 

“Then how did y’all get married. He came back?” 

Patrice smiled at the memory of Terry standing on her porch that fateful summer morning. “Yeah. He just…came back. We talked and never stopped talking after that until he became my husband.”

“Did he say sorry at least?” 

“He always says sorry. All the time. He’s nice like that.” 

A chorus of swooning ‘awws’ rang out in the classroom and escaped into the hallway. Terry was nice like that. It didn’t matter that Patrice wanted to hate him and call him every name but a child of God. He always apologized and he always meant it. 

A distant smile covered Patrice’s face as she twirled her wedding band around her finger. 

Camille took the opportunity to poke fun at her coach. “Aww, look at Mrs. Richmond, y’all. She smiling big! You gon’ let him come to the AP Christmas party?” 

“That ain’t fair! I’m not in AP English and I wanna see him.” 

“Oh my God, we all gon' see him at the games. Calm down.” 

“Alright, alright, alright.” Patrice couldn’t contain her laughter at their eagerness to meet a man two times their senior with no interest in them outside of their connection to her. “Maybe you’ll meet him one day. Today, I need y’all to hurry up and-” 

A knock at the door interrupted Patrice, bringing her attention to a tall, slender young man who instantly turned heads. He smiled bashfully at all the ogling until Patrice redirected his eyes with a wave of her hand.

“What’s up, Deanté? You leave something in here?” 

“Nah. Coach Rich told us to bring some stuff to you. Where you want us to put it?” 

“Umm, I guess you can put it back here by my bookshelves,” she directed, pointing to the back of the room. Confusion created fine lines on her forehead. “I’m sorry, what’s happening?” 

Deanté shrugged in the way only teenaged boys too cool for school could before waving in the rest of his crew. Each of them came bearing the gift of snacks, carrying boxes of wholesale goodies to their intended place like worker ants serving their queen. Chips, cookies, pretzels, juices, and water stacked high along the wall instantly turned her quaint classroom into a stockroom until they’d delivered the final package. Bringing up the rear was Terry with flowers in one hand and a carryout bag from Patrice’s favorite bakery in the other. 

Pressed khaki slacks and a cotton polo fighting for dominance against his veiny bicep should’ve thanked him for making them look better than they ever could alone. Patrice wrestled her gaze away from his long legs to look away before she ended up flustered in front of impressionable children.

He lightly knocked against the door, his gaze soft and his smile welcoming. “May I come in?” 

Like the audience track from a 90s sitcom, young girls squeal in his presence, making him chuckle. Patrice rushed to control the madness. 

“See, this is why I have to keep my eye on y’all. Head to the gym and warm up. I’ll meet y’all down there.” They groaned their displeasure in a last-ditch attempt to buy more time with Terry. She re-emphasized her instructions. “Go on. For every second I have to keep looking at y’all after I’m done talking, that’s a lap. One, two, three…”

Quick feet and the threat of additional exercise cleared the room quickly, leaving Terry at the doorframe waiting for permission to enter. Patrice stood and straightened her turtleneck before inviting him inside. 

“Come in. Close the door behind you.”

Terry did as he was told in silence, hoping to appease the Queen in her castle. Patrice tried to remain stoic as she approached her portable lectern to thumb through the day’s notes and lesson plans. He deposited the flowers onto a nearby shelf then slid into a desk at the front of the class and waited for her to at least acknowledge him beyond a fleeting glance. 

Finally, she looked up and pointed at the white bag resting in front of him. “Is that for me?” 

“Yeah,” Terry smiled. “I haven’t seen you grab one in a while so I hope you still like the cinnamon roll. If not, I got the lemon loaf too. Your other favorite.” 

After all those years separating their adulthood from an entire semester of sneaking away during lunch for a warm, doughy signature roll, Patrice couldn’t believe Terry still remembered such a trivial detail. 

She bit her bottom lip to hide a smile as two short steps took her to the desk beside him. Metal creaked against the floor while they turned to face each other in seats too small for Terry who had come a long way from his high school physique. 

Terry watched Patrice quietly remove her treat from the bag and cut it in half with a plastic knife. She carefully placed one side on a clean napkin and passed it across the small gap separating them. 

She lifted her portion into the air and smiled a friendly smile. “Cheers?” 

“Cheers.” 

Their respective hunks of roll kissed the other briefly before they took big bites to satisfy early afternoon cravings. Terry chuckled as Patrice hummed her satisfaction with her eyes closed and shoulders lifted near her ears. 

A little piece of Heaven. He was happy to provide anything other than the strife he contributed hours earlier. 

“Thank you,” Patrice whispered once the delight of her first bite had passed and her eyes were open again. “It’s still my favorite. You were right.” 

He didn’t respond past a small nod and a small half smile as he watched her enjoy another bite. His thumbs nervously twiddled around themselves while he wrote and erased apologetic statements in his mind in a search for what to say next. 

“Treece, I can’t say enough how sorry I am.” 

“We don’t need to do this. I overreacted and threw things in your face.” She started, trying to stop the uncomfortable discussion before it could start. 

Terry remained steadfast. “No, you didn’t. You called me out and it was the right thing to do. I have been selfish and you’ve caught the brunt of that for a long time now. It’s not fair.” 

“I just…fuck.” Tears that Patrice had managed to keep at bay during work forced their way past her waterline before she could stop them. She dabbed at them with a napkin and took a deep breath. “I’ve had to be really independent for a long time. Relationships didn’t stop me from doing things on my own because they convinced me that asking for help made me weak. Then you came along and immediately took on more than I could’ve ever asked.”

“That’s what I’m here for, baby.” 

“Yeah, but when you stop all of a sudden or pick and choose when you wanna help, it makes me afraid that one day, you’re gonna stop altogether like everyone else. And I really, really can’t take you being like everyone else.” 

Another layer of Patrice had been shed to leave behind an emotionally raw, vulnerable woman searching for an anchor in her life. The tears were gone, but they left evidence of deep-seated hurt on her face. 

Terry reached across his desk for her hand which she offered without protest though she refused to look him in the eyes. He kissed her knuckles softly, paying special attention to her ring finger before lacing their fingers. 

Sad eyes looked across at her. “You’re my main priority. If you want me to drop all this extra shit, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. Say the word and it’s gone.”

“I don’t want that. Be honest with me. Listen to me. That’s all I’m asking.”

“Okay,” he spoke into the inside of her wrist. “Give me a chance to be better.” 

“You already are.” 

Where misunderstanding has once festered, a flower of progress bloomed. They’d traversed uncharted territory as a unit to find common ground that would lay the foundation for years to come. 

Patrice made the first move toward reconciliation, standing from her desk to meet Terry at his side. Her hands cupped the sides of his face, tilting his head up to hers as she stood over him. 

“I love you. Always. I might still be a little miffed, but I’ll get over it. Promise.” She landed a flurry of kisses on his forehead and he accepted while he wrapped his arms around her waist. 

“I understand. I’ll earn your trust again.” 

Fuzzy feelings and chaste affection in what they believed was a safe space were cut short when a small yelp and thud sent a group of girls crashing to the tile floor, pushing her door ajar.

Patrice giggled along with Terry as she turned to get a look at the spectacle. “That’s what you get for being nosey. Now get to the gym for real this time.”

“Sorry, Mrs. Richmond,” they all chanted as they scrambled to stand and scatter. 

Terry listened for them to exit hearing range before turning back to Patrice and leaning up to kiss her lips. 

“I’ll be done with practice at 6:30 sharp and come straight home. Don’t worry about dinner or anything else. Let me handle it.”

“No problem.”

Final kisses and another promise to be home on time sent Terry and Patrice in opposite directions with optimism pumping through their veins. Tomorrow would bring its own storms and issues to work out. But, those were tomorrow’s problems. 

Today, they’d lick their wounds and settle next to each other on the couch with love in their hearts and the taste of each other on their lips to make every hard time worth the end result.

-----

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[14thgalerie]

under pressure

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: linger by the cranberries

• word count: 2.4k

• genre: angst

— an old piece that i never finished but i just wanted to post something because my account is so dead. i know exams work differently in hogwarts but for this one, let's just pretend that they do a semestral exam also.

“Theo?” You call from behind him, as you enter the common room where he sits in solitude. 

He makes no sound to acknowledge that he’s heard you, simply continuing to stare off into space. Long, slender fingers rhythmically tapping on his thighs.

Ignoring this, you make yourself comfortable on the nearest available seat, angling your body to face him. “You would not believe what I got for History of Magic!” You excitedly begin and with much enthusiasm, “But first you have to guess!”

Again, a silence greets you. This sparks concern in you since it was very unusual behaviour from him. But before you could ask, he emits a curious hum, still not looking directly at you. “What did you get?”

“You’re no fun.” You playfully jab at him, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. “Anyways! I got an Outstanding! Can you believe that?”

“It would’ve been hilarious if you hadn’t.” Is all he says in a deadpan, hollow voice. “What do you mean by that?” You prod.

“Imagine taking all of my time just for you to fail once again. I would have actually thrown myself off the pitch. ”

The muted glow of the scattered lamps and candles cast shadows on the walls, creating an ambiance that mirrors the strained emotions between you and Theo. The distant sound of chatter and laughter in the dorm rooms only served to accentuate the silence that ensued.

He sighs, “I am tired. Tired of your complaining, of your whines, of your stupidity over such a simple course. You are so excited over this when it isn’t something to be necessarily proud of. You know…” Theo trails off in an amused manner as if he has realised something funny.

“I find it funny how you are sitting all proud and excited about this one exam when in reality, it was all because of me. You wouldn’t have even gotten half of what you had if it weren't for me or with the help of the others. Leeching off of us like a goddamn parasite who hasn’t a mind of her own.”

Words fail you, unable to conjure up even a whisper in your shock. You stand up slowly, breathing out an unsteady exhale.

The words break on your skin like whips, cracking and splitting open still healing wounds. 

“I have never asked you for anything, need I remind you? You were the one who insisted on spending your oh so precious time teaching me. Time and time again, I reassured you that I could do it myself because I didn’t want you to waste it on me. Yet, it was always fine with you and you were adamant on doing it so don’t you dare put this on me now.” You grit out. “I have no idea as to why you are acting like a rabid dog, snapping at me unprovoked, but nothing will ever warrant that kind of behaviour. “ You shake your head sharply, glaring at him from underneath your eyebrow. 

You felt yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, confusion with the whole situation making it worse by the second. It was spreading so quickly and far into the recesses of your soul that you would fall to your knees if not for the support of the couch behind you.

Not willing to have him see you break down from his nonchalant words that were deliberately chosen to attack your deepest insecurities— unable to understand how it so easily came from the last person you expected it from. You quickly move towards the stairs, ignoring the weak call of your name. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

Seconds—or was it minutes— slipped away since you have made the decision to lock yourself in your room. Leaving the room before everything gets worse. Surrounding yourself with a number of inked parchments that are filled with hundreds of thousands of words, none of which your brain registers. Despite your earnest desire to find solace with work, it was all futile as they were only mere words on paper that held no significance in comparison to what was brewing in your mind.

Instead, an incessant question pesters you. Was it really something to be so excited over? Lost in a silent deep rumination, accompanied only by the rhythmic flutter of an owl's wings as they flew past your open window and the rustling trees to occupy the silence. 

Tick, tock, tick, tock. 

The clock is still there to remind me of the hours that have passed— 3 and a quarter to be precise.

Perhaps you were being too over the top but you hadn’t meant to. The pure, unadulterated exhilaration overwhelmed you after Professor Binns called you aside after your last exam. It had become an accepted knowledge to you that History of Magic wasn’t necessarily your strongest suit. Enough so that it would’ve been perfectly fine for you to receive a less-than-average result.

To hear how exceptional you had done this time, possibly even greater than many of your classmates, your mind instinctively went to share your achievement with Theo. After all, he was the one who patiently dedicated hours guiding you in your review and it took precedence over his own. Assurances, that came off as more of arrogance, of how he would do just fine and that he could ace it even if he wore a blindfold.

Maybe that’s where it all went wrong. Could it have been the lack of sleep before? He does get a bit irritable with a lack of rest. You’ve seen it personally in the weeks that lead up to Quidditch games. The fatigue, in addition to the stress of the final exams before the holidays, must’ve steered him into that state. 

Despite feeling upset and somewhat finding fault within yourself, you couldn’t muster up the will to apologise first. While his behaviour tonight could have been explainable, for goodness’ sake, the way that he has gone about it was unwarranted— shouting and hurling the harshest words that he is capable of, at you. The person that rejected every offer, made by him, because you were scared to impose on his studying hours. Now he cannot even be happy at what you had worked so dedicatedly on with him?

After spending hours in the cold and dark room, doing nothing but ruminating on the argument, you realise that you refuse to allow his words to dampen your joy and excitement any more than they have already. Sitting up straight, you stretch your arms wide. Swiftly tidying the scattered papers and dried pens into an acceptable arrangement in your trunk before you settle down beneath your duvet cover. Giving up on the idea of getting any work done when your mind was elsewhere.

The both of you made plans to have a sleepover in your dorm room after your roommates announced that they would be spending the night elsewhere. However, it will be safe to say that the idea had crumbled into non-existence after the heated exchange of words between the two of you. 

As you lay there on your side, facing the stone wall with your back to the door, you couldn’t help but reflect on your argument. A hailing storm brewed in the furrows of your mind, unable to piece together what exactly you should do. The only thing you wanted was to hear his beating heart beneath you as you lay on his chest. But you knew that it wouldn’t be right for yourself to concede.

Of all the ways that you’ve imagined for him to react, what had truly occurred did not even appear in your mind. It left you tossing and turning in frustration and confusion, unable to fall asleep in peace. Only the warmth and lasting scent of his cologne on your duvet keep you calm— the realisation that you couldn’t even properly be mad at him makes you huff.

In the silent war within you, you were deaf to the aged door groaning in protest as its rusty hinges emitted a creaking sound that left the person behind it wincing. Nor did you hear the unusually gentle footsteps that followed.

So much so that even the shadows that lurked within the walls would have thought that the footsteps were a figment of their imagination. In the way that the presence hesitated outside of your room as if they were heavily contemplating.

It was only at the weighted dip of the bed behind you and the hesitant arm that crept around your waist that were you pulled from your trance. Yet, you bore no intent of recognition for him even as he had fully suited himself behind you with his chin tucked in the crook of your neck.

As his presence enveloped you, he began with a slight tremor in his voice. “Y/N…I-“

“I could write and speak a thousand sorry’s and reasons for why the words had so easily slipped from my lips, but they will never unspeak them from existence. I promised your mama that I will never let a speck of hurt flash across those eyes, and I will forever apologise to her for breaking that promise.” A shaky exhale lines the last few syllables. “I was so unnecessarily horrible and mean to you without meaning to. So consumed by this- this emotion that flooded me, something that I had lost control over.”

Every syllable was accompanied by a hesitant tone that left the words sounding shaky; nervous. Coupled with the drop of tears that lined your neck right where his head sat.

You listened, listening to his apology, but the wounds were still fresh. The echo of his sharp words runs deep beneath your skin, embedded into your bones, prickling with every second you are reminded of them. The sincerity in his voice clashed with the pain he had caused with his words, leaving you torn between the desire to understand and the reluctance to let go of the hurt.

“You really hurt my feelings, Theo.” If he wasn’t already drowning in misery, hearing his name fall from your lips after he worked many weeks to be called something else had him gasping for breath. “I genuinely want to forgive you, but at this moment, I can’t quite find it in me to do so. You blew up on me for absolutely no reason. I need you to help me understand, to give me a reason behind your outburst, not mere words of guilt. Because even if you say sorry a thousand times, I would never be able to forgive you for clearly attacking me where I would greatly feel it.

His voice, meek in the tense air between the two of you, unfolded with a raw honesty that lays bare his desperation for this to be over.

“The exhaustion from lack of sleep and finding that I barely got a passing grade…It was a bit too much for me. I have no idea why it even bothered me when, for so long, I could hardly give a damn about these stupid exams," he shared, sighing with exasperation.

A pang of guilt and shame flared within your chest at the knowledge. The initial shadow of hesitation and guilt that crept on you the days before came rushing back in. You should’ve known better than to allow him to persuade you. Turning around on the bed to face him. But before you could wallow yourself in these emotions, Theo quickly puts your mind to rest.

“Don’t blame yourself, darling.” He tenderly pushes a thumb against the forming frown on your forehead. “I should have told you that I needed to study also instead of leaving it to luck. I guess I was being a bit of a confident prick that got used to not reviewing for an exam that I fully forgot I missed a few lectures a few weeks ago. I truthfully never had and never will blame you, not when I had been the one, adamant enough, to help you out despite your protests.”

His admission carried a mix of self-awareness and remorse. The vulnerability that was clear in his words began to bridge the hesitance inside of you to relax, the layers of miscommunication slowly peeling away. 

You could sense the weight he carried. Despite his casual indifference to his studies, you knew that it was something that he silently prided himself in. To have that be ruined in addition to the cumulative stress that built up over time with his hectic schedule. Being reminded that even if he may seem so perfect on the surface, beneath that, he was still human; flawed, vulnerable, and young. Although the hurt had begun to shift, not fully dissipating yet, it had turned into a sense of empathy that allowed you a clarity of thinking.

A small, understanding hum escaped you. The strain in your voice is gone now, ”We need to work on our communication, then. No longer hiding things from each other for any reason, even if we think it does not matter. Part of our relationship is to work our problems side by side, even if it doesn’t concern the other. We shouldn’t have things fester until it explodes on us.” 

He nods, burying his head back into the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” You gently pull his head back and look at him fondly. “And we need to also address the way you spoke to me earlier. Just because we were in the heat of the moment and lost in our emotions does not mean you have the right to do that, not when my mom raised me without raising her voice.”

“I’m really sorry. Merlin…I can still see the look on your face and I don’t think I would ever forget and forgive myself for being the reason behind it”. “I won’t say I forgive you just yet, that’s a boundary crossed for me. We should’ve had this talk in the beginning but better now than never. Let’s take a pause for now, and resume this conversation with a clear head.” He met your gaze with a blend of appreciation and a sense of resolve. 

masterlist

[altcvnningham]

of a demon in my view

william “case” calderon x f!reader

summary: when the team return to the rook after visiting the science facility in kentucky you hear a bump in the night. good thing case is back to protect you, right? (takes place after the 'emergence' mission. inspired by this post. please heed the tags!!) read on ao3

tags/cw: nsfw, dubious consent, f!reader, angst, (case is) under the influence (of the cradle), rough sex, size difference/kink, biting, choking, case is hung, animalistic/primal behaviour?? i guess?? reader is confused but loves case too much, case is obsessed w reader, aftercare (ish), author goes mad with power at the use of italics wc: 4.8k

a/n: umm sorry to case + the case enjoyers, i wish i’d written something softer for him first... trust that my first full nsfw fic on here would be icky nasty dubcon w poor confused reader. promise she likes it. since there’s not a whole lot of case content to base his characterisation on, i hope this suffices!! shoutout to lovely lacie @dearlydevoured, case's actual irl gf who put up w my brainrot while i wrote this <3 title from “alone”, edgar allan poe.

You wake gasping.

The bedroom is pitch black, offering little but a sliver of moonlight to orient yourself, cutting the room split in two as you try to discern what the hell that sound was. A slam, booming like thunder and carried in with the draft and the dust. It takes much to hear it across the old house, the Rook as big as it is barren, and it takes much more again to wake you. But whatever it is, it had, and your body jolts in its instinct to get up and investigate.

But as you do, you stop. You’re half a leg out of bed and a finger upon the nearby flashlight when you catch something in your periphery. You don’t even look at it head on- the figure in the open door. Just stare ahead at the wall and freeze, trying to clock if whatever stands there has spotted you sooner than you’d spotted it.

Any other night, Case would have awoken before you. Hell, he would have dealt with the problem himself before you’d even stirred. But the space in the bed where he usually sleeps is cold, and it had been all night- they’d left for Kentucky a couple days ago now, and you hadn’t received much word in between. Only a call from Marshall on the way back, to keep an eye on Case when he returns. That he wasn’t quite right.

But you know Case better than anyone. You know he already isn’t really quite right as he is; you never minded it, the odd pauses between words and the bitten tongue, like he’s always holding something back, or the distant way he sometimes seems to regard you from across a room, before the colour floods back to his face and he finds the courage to smile. Whatever warmth you possess encourages a similar feeling in himself, and Case had found himself sweet on you quicker than he would most. He sees in you a kindred spirit, maybe. A missing piece. Enough that when he sleeps next to you, the screaming stops. Most nights.

But whatever it is in the door, you’re almost sure it isn’t Case. Almost. Until—

Breathing. Quick, shallow, raspy. For a second it doesn’t even sound human, until you recognise it- the same sound when he wakes from a nightmare, the same panting in your ear when you hold him tight and let him ride it out. The fear, primal, pacified by your patience and care. Your heart tugs- it’s him. You know it’s him.

With that knowledge alone enough to brave your panic, you turn your head to the open door, and regard the figure stood in it with an embarrassed laugh.

“Oh, god, Case. It’s you. Jesus,” you huff, a hand clutched to your chest. “Scared the shit out of me.”

A smile, sheepish, spreads over your lips as he just stands there in the doorway, filling it with his shadow. Tall, stocky, broad-shouldered as he is, arms held stiffly at his sides as he just stands there, shapeless face cast in darkness. His hulking figure eclipsing the moonlight trying to come in from the hallway windows. You can’t see his expression, only the whites of his eyes, and though it’s hard to tell at first, they look to be open wide. And staring at you.

Your smile slowly drops. You sit up.

“Case? What’s wrong?”

But he doesn’t talk. Doesn’t say anything. Just- fucking- just stands there- just you and him, locked eyes, for a fleeting moment feeling like prey and predator at a stand-off in a too-open clearing. Vulnerable, is the feeling that creeps up your spine and staples you there, still and rigid in the bed.

There’s a pause. He blinks. You think he snaps out of whatever daze he’s in, because he comes into the room and kicks the door shut with his heel, but where he’d usually sigh, sit on the bed, and undress, he just moves straight towards you. Unhurried, but urgent. Single-minded in his pursuit.

Case’s knee dips into the mattress, sinking under his weight, and though you aren’t scared you feel the urge to move back into the bed, hitting the headboard in your scuffle.

“Case, you’re still dressed,” you worry, voice lilted like a question. He must suddenly notice, or perhaps hear your concern, because he glances down at himself, though decidedly mustn’t care at all- even as you go for the zipper of his windbreaker yourself, he’s wholly intent instead on closing in on you. Scarred hands curl around the headboard as he leans in to kiss you- no, to- smell you? He noses your hair, behind your ear, licking a greedy stripe up the side of your neck. You do your best to ignore it, focusing your quivering fingers upon the zipper, and somehow you manage to push the jacket off him and onto the floor. His hands are immediately on you then, dug into the back of your hair and cradling your skull as he kisses sharply along your jaw, your cheek, the corners of your babbling mouth.

“H-hey, um,” is all you can manage as you’re jostled by his movements. He isn’t rough, isn’t even hurting you, but his fingers dig into your arms and pull at your hair in a way that’s unfamiliar, uncharacteristically desperate, like you’ll slip into dust any second. It’s enough to make you wince. “Case- Case, c’mon. Talk to me. Whatever’s wrong, we can—”

“Want you.” Is all he says.

“What?”

“Want you,” he repeats, an animal grunt in an octave you’ve never heard before. It thrills you as much as it frightens you, but you steel your focus, more concerned than you are anything else. That excitement that tingles at the base of your spine is unimportant, insignificant in the grand scheme, when he’s acting so strange.

“Case, I think you should sit down a sec,” you say, trying gently to pry his hands off you, but he won’t budge. He’s stronger than you- much stronger- and before you can open your mouth to protest his hands are on your waist, pulling you out of the bed and stringing you out atop the blanket like you weigh nothing. “Wh- oh!”

You land with a hiccup, disoriented as he climbs on top of you, and in your befuddled state you’re half worried about shoes on the bed as he wedges a leg between yours, coarse grey cargo pants chafing your sleep-soft thighs. A tiny yip makes its way out of you as you bear the sudden weight of him- as is always so stifling, yet now seems suffocating- a thick scarred forearm braced in the pillow beside your head as he buries his nose in your neck, not quite kissing but breathing you in, huffing like a dog, something primal, savage.

It’s so unfamiliar, and yet so like Case; never having seen him this way but always sensed, known, that there lingered in him something like this, some growling thing seated deep inside just waiting to get out, biding its time and snarling. It frightens you, but not enough to fight it off. Just enough to lay there and let whatever thing that’s reared its ugly head in him feel you out, get its bearings of the girl trembling beneath him.

You catch a scent on his shirt then, tart as it wrinkles your nose. It’s a strange smell, acrid, not entirely unpleasant but foreign to you- like chemicals or detergent, coppery like blood but lacking its warmth. It clings to Case’s clothes like something parasitic. You breathe it in, and strangely it has a texture, almost like smoke, but whatever it is your body rejects it, tangled in a cough as your vision blurs. It’s enough then to just let him close over you as he likes, pressing your face to his hair instead as he mouths at your neck, starved.

You’re burned by the heat of him. Heavy as he envelopes himself around you, greedy hands moving down your body to touch and grab and grope, undecided whether he wants to be gentle, whether he can be, calloused hands like sandpaper as he slides them under your shirt. Your own hands try to turn his jaw so you might see his face and deduce the expression into an answer, a reasoning for his behaviour. But every touch you give has him shuddering beneath you, near enough purring as he careens his cheek into your hand, lapping up your warmth.

Case feels like he’s on fire. Tunnel-visioned. Drunk, almost. He’d cooled off whatever substance he’d breathed in that facility on the flight back to Bulgaria, but part of it still sticks to him like sap, simmering and seething all red and angry in a place inside he can’t reach. He’d claw it out of himself if he could, if he had the guts, but he swears he could smell you from the fucking front door- and by then it was over, decided for him before he even knew what he was doing. Something else took hold then, brutish and hungry, overcome with the base animal need to stalk, hunt, fuck.

His hands run down your body, kissing wetly into your open palm. You whimper frantic and confused as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and tugs them down your legs, falling frail as petals somewhere off the bed. You gasp as he pushes himself forward, hips bullying your legs apart, while he peels back your shirt to knead your breasts and latch his mouth upon a perked nipple with a moan.

“Hey, slow- slow down,” you rasp, barely a whisper, dying on an open-mouthed sigh as a spike of pleasure needles you. You can’t help it. It’s him, Case, always so soft with you, so slow and gentle, now pawing at you like he’d sooner die than go without touching you. Your hands knot into his hair as he sucks at your nipple, tangled at the base of his neck, unsure whether you’re trying to push him off or pull him closer. “I think we should- just- calm down and—“

“No,” Case says, a low noise, almost strangled as he unlatches himself from you, shaking his head. He sounds pained, sick, emitting a whine as he unfolds himself, hands wrestling with his belt. In your sudden shyness, feeling all too exposed, you pull your shirt down and make a move to close your legs, but Case’s hand nudges your knee, as thoughtless as if he were swatting a fly as he pries them back open.

“Gotta have you now, baby, I-I gotta,” he mumbles, repeating it under his breath over and over like a mantra. Is it for you to hear? Is it for himself? You don’t know. But even as you try and move his hand away it’s a hopeless thing. He’s firm, resolute. Won’t so much as let you budge. He slides his belt off with one hand, shoving his cargo pants and boxers down his hips, and stamps your arm back at the side of your head with the other, wrenched tight around your wrist.

“O-ow, careful, Case—”

Your words are cut short by a jarring thud. His cock thumps thick and heavy against your tummy, and wide-eyed, you freeze. Oh. Case tugs around the base to give it some hopeless attention, something, anything to take the edge off. The shock of it all pulls out a breathless whine from you. He’s never usually so forward. He rocks himself slow against you, moving his hips down, nudging your clit with the leaking head of his aching dick. It’s- it’s so much that you don’t know whether to stop him or just surrender, craning your neck down to try and catch a glimpse of- of—

Fuck, you forget how big it is. Every time. It always looks so much more intimidating than it feels, but that’s because Case has always been careful with you, patient, always working you up on his fingers first before even attempting to split you open on him, even then only feeding you inch by tentative inch until he’s seated nice and deep inside you. Eager, but takes his time with you, never in any rush to give his sweet girl what she needs.

But you have the feeling that this time is different. Not- not bad, but- different. His hands are hard on you, bruising, kisses impatient and starving, even the way he’s slowly fucking his tip against your clit, hazy-eyed and mindless as he watches himself slide the length of his shaft between your folds, so pink and sweet- it’s maddening. It’s only then that you realise you’re moaning, bleating like cornered prey.

As if suddenly reminded of the fact he ought to prep you, he shoves two fingers unceremoniously into his mouth, sucking them wet before pulling them out with a pop and delving his hand between your legs. It’s done so fast you flinch, a panicked sound pulled out of you. His usual patience is swapped with hurried desperation, a flit of his eyes to yours- your lips, your face, God, the prettiest thing he’s seen in his life- measuring your reaction. Your shock and confusion must be evident in your wilted expression, because he moves his fingers just a little slower, watching with enamoured reverence as your face flushes hot, savouring the way he can see the thoughts just spill out of your head like honey as it empties itself for him. So, so pretty.

“U-um—” you stammer, as dumb as the day you were born. You want to say something, want him to say something, but your mind goes blank. Whatever good sense might linger is gone- there’s only Case, much too broad and much too big in your bed as he looms over you. He slides his fingers against your clit, tender with need; he thumbs at your slick entrance, soaking his knuckle as he teases against it, and moans at how reflexively it clenches around him, begging to be filled. How badly it wants him. He barely humours your poor, needy pussy as he slides his middle finger inside, thick as it stretches you, just about managing the first knuckle before you keen, body bowing into him.

“G-God, Case, please—”

Sobriety spurs vaguely into him then, the light coming back into his eyes as he blinks down at you, strewn like a blushing favour over the pillow. His perfect girl, his. As he looks at you, he slides his finger out of you slowly, relishing with a faraway look on his face the way you crumple and cry, grasping at his wrist to try and pull him back in again. He thinks he’d go mad for it. For you, he thinks he’d die.

“S’okay,” he grumbles under his breath, a click of his tongue as he tuts at you like one might a skittish animal. He pulls back, lining his cock up with your soaked entrance, his pupils blown black, drunk. “I’m gonna make it better. M’gonna make it better, baby, I promise.”

He has to make it better. Has to. Has to apologise for what he’s doing, how he’s acting- he has to apologise for what he is, the thing growling inside him, tearing, clawing, screaming to get out—

He’s still sucking the syrup of you off his fingers as he pushes himself inside you, eyes rolling into the back of his head with a loud, broken groan. He’s so lost to the white haze of bliss for a second as your slick heat all but swallows him in, pushing only a little resistance at the sudden intrusion and God, he knows you’re not used to it so quick, so soon, but you’re his good girl, his baby, and he knows you can take it.

And you’re not quite used to the stretch even on a good day- feeling it rip into you now is near agony. Your mouth opens wide but not a sound comes out. Useless anyway, given Case bends down and closes his own around it, tongue delving hot inside to seek yours. It’s so fast and so much that you barely find time to adjust, just letting your mouth loll open and surrender itself to him as he tongues you, trying so hard to focus on accommodating to his cock pushing- forcing- its way into you, too much, too much, too big—

The hand around your wrist loosens as though some pliant drug has washed cold over him, and you open your eyes for just a second, enough to catch the way his dilate, black melting into the white before he sinks himself all the way inside you. Filling you to the hilt, suffocating. Bliss is written into every line of his face, softening as he lets out a whine. He bottoms out, and you see it in him- complete and utter relief. Some awful agony in him quelled immediately, his body slack against yours. He feels, in you, complete. Home.

It’s evident enough that it puts you at ease, whatever it is that’s compelled him like this. He’s not trying to hurt you. You don’t think. He’s just rather like a big dog that believes itself to be no larger than a puppy, unaware of its own weight and strength. Case’s body goes almost flat atop yours and the only way he notices at all is how it pushes a wheeze out of you, a silent beg for release.

But just then you feel his hips pulling back, cock sliding out of you inch by agonising inch. A whimpering plea is all you’re given to let out before he slams back into you again and fuck, it’s too much, he’s too big, you’re not used to—

“F-fuck, Case, wait—”

Your legs tremor involuntarily as they part further to let him closer, let him in, his hips welded to yours as he buries himself right to the fucking root of you. Case groans, delirious as his face falls against your shoulder.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Case- s’too much, you’re—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, an attempt at comfort that leaves you dizzier than it does much else. He licks a wet kiss to your neck, meant to calm you, but only riles himself up more, setting off a dormant bloodthirst in him; he does it again, and this time he- he bites you.

You squeal. “O-ow!”

Like an apology he can’t voice he laps his tongue flat against your skin, mulling hungrily over the bitten flesh like he’s savouring it. It’s only when he’s sated himself on you that his hips start moving, slow, languid thrusts that quicken each time you yelp, hurried pace picking up once he feels you clench reflexively around him.

And he’s usually so gentle when he fucks you, almost hesitant, always like he’s half afraid of breaking you. Not like this. He fucks into you mindlessly, a rabid thing with a single razor sharp splinter of desire- you. Wants you. Has to have you, has to split you open and- take you. Fuck you so there’s nothing left in him to think of or breathe in but you. Every thrust is merciless and messy, Case pounding into you again and again as the sound of him fucking into your wet cunt smacks luridly in the air; loud enough that it makes you wince, cringing to hear yourself so shamelessly, how your body makes itself so slick and malleable just for him. His hips slam into you faster than you can take it- but you can take it, you can, he insists, demands it, grunting it into your ear, baby, please, jus’ take it for me, take it take it take it—

Your orgasm slams into you, a violent punch that singes you hot-white and blind; your thighs clench around his hips of their own accord and pull him in even deeper- as if there’s any more room- unbidden as you cry out, wailing helplessly as he just- keeps- fucking you. Wave after wave of pleasure drowning you over and over and over. It almost terrifies you, how willingly gone your body leaves itself, all sense and reason fleeing you all to make room for this- him.

You babble incomprehensibly as you ride it out, words lost in your throes of euphoria, smothered completely beneath the sweet and tender violence of him, your ravaged cunt milking and just taking him in its refusal to let go.

You don’t know if you’re crying- it all feels so good you can barely make sense of where you are- but through the red haze of it all you feel Case’s hand cup your cheek, caress your face, mumbling choked apologies into your shoulder as he keeps impaling you on his cock, chasing his pleasure into you. It’s the sweetest thing, his voice very almost pathetic, incongruous to the way the rest of him seems dead-set on pummelling you into the mattress as he garbles a knotted string of I’m sorry, baby, can’t help it, s’too good, I’m sorry—

As if you’d even care if he wasn’t. As if you wouldn’t let him break you and cradle the pieces in his mottled hands. As if you wouldn’t let him carve out a home inside of you, broken and bloodied, and nestle himself within. Where no one can hurt him ever again, where nobody could ever find him. Nobody but you.

You’d promise him that much, you think- the times when he wakes up screaming in the night, when he sits up in bed and stares empty at the wall, when mid-conversation he’s just suddenly stunned into white-noise silence, the Case you know, the Case that’s yours, absent for but a moment. Replaced by something else entirely, something you’re not quite sure you recognise. You take him then, like you take him now, your body so dumb and fragile in his big arms as he fucks you hard, cock punching into you so bad you go dizzy.

And isn’t this much like that? Don’t you love him even now, as he is? While he violently breaks you?

“C-Case,” you choke, his chest pressed so tightly to yours you can hardly breathe. His hand snakes up your neck, closing around your throat with a satisfied moan, stars dotted in your view. You feel something cresting again, down your legs, up your spine, the back of your neck— “Oh, god, Case, please, I’m gonna—”

But you don’t know what you’re gonna. It hits you before you can even find out. You come again, you think, some viciously delectable feeling severing you and flinging your body straight up off the mattress, holding him to you, begging him closer, as though he could be any more than he already was. Flesh melting into flesh, sweat sticky and waxen, indistinguishable from his. Inseparable. As you cry out again, he groans, thick and low and not quite human, spilling himself so deep inside you that you feel it pooling hot in your gut, molten sweet; your own climax is slow, tender agony, gorging you open, rippling warm and pink behind closed eyes like the thin warbling of blood in water… and then… and then…

It’s a short moment later, or maybe a few, when the black spots in your vision clear.

You’re staring up at the ceiling, cracked white, a picture much like Case’s eyes had been in the doorway, veins struck blood lightning across marble sclera. He’s there too, you can hear him, his voice a distant echo as you feel large hands cup your face, your whole world oscillating.

It’s bliss. It’s perfect. You lie there, barely coming to, your body sinking into the mattress as though you weren’t even there, floating, feeling so, so nice.

When the shadow pulls over your vision, you smile. Case holds himself over you, his thumb peeling back your eyelid, letting out a choked sound of relief when your eyes, lucid, finally fix on him.

“Oh- oh, thank god- oh- baby, I’m so—”

He scoops you up like a ragdoll in his arms, clutching you so tight to his chest that you can feel the erratic thrumming of his heart, quick as a rabbit’s to the slow drum of yours. A series of strangled noises leave him as he buries his face into your shoulder, wet, whether from kisses or crying, you don’t know- but you know that you love him, and he’s yours. It’s the only thing on your emptied mind as your face burrows against him, breathing him in. That strange chemical smell is long gone now, enveloping you back into the warm embrace of pine and petrichor, the smell of home. Of him. It’s all you can think of, the only thing you can form into words, when you mumble, exhausted, into his chest.

“‘Love you, Case.”

And he must hear it, because his heartbeat slows then, decelerating a steady hum to match your own. His death grip on you loosens, his body going slack as he falls into you. Whatever noise that screams endless in his mind seems to cease, because through it all he hears you, hushing and cooing at him as you pull your fingers softly up his arm, pulling him slowly, slowly, down into bed. You stay still as he sifts frantic hands over you, smoothing you over like he’s trying to keep the shape of you, checking you like he would for bruises. You know this is his way of taking care of you, of fixing you, of making everything right and keeping his precious baby together with all her pieces intact; he kisses you slow but trembling, lips finding every swath of skin he knows he’s bitten, pinched, groped too hard.

“Didn’t mean to,” he murmurs, quiet and worriedly into your hair. He kisses, again and again. “Didn’t mean to be so rough. Didn’t mean—”

“I know,” you whisper, “it’s okay. I’m okay. Look- feel.”

You find his hand in the dark, pulling it around yourself to press it against your chest, your heart beating heavy against his palm. You keep it there, proof of your wellness, showing him you’re unharmed. Where it matters, anyway. You’re so strung out from your orgasm that all you can do, want to do, is just lie there and hold him, body limp and satisfied in spite of it all.

It’s just that, then, quiet, the soft sounds of his breathing slowing in time to yours, a conscious effort to calm himself, to prove to you that he can be, that he isn’t that thing that lingered in the doorway glowering at you- to prove to himself that he isn’t a monster.

He tells you again that he’s sorry, but you just tut your forgiveness and shake your head, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. And he tries to tell you why, but when he opens his mouth, no words come out. Just the voice in the back of his head again, the knife kept lodged in his throat all this time. We don’t talk about that. His vision warps, chromatic as he blinks away pictures of the lab, the lights, the Cradle. We can’t talk about that.

Case just sighs then, settling into your arms and cocooning himself around you like he’s not the very thing he’s trying to protect you from. He thinks he tells you he loves you too- that, at least, he knows is his- but he isn’t sure if you hear, fallen asleep before you can utter a response.

He just looks at you, and he’s completely besotted. Utterly and madly. He kisses you sweet and gentle, stamping his one last apology as soft fingers thread through your hair. He’ll fix it, he vows, for you, for you. Then he slides in next to you, curling his arms around your tummy to pull you in close, swearing until he falls asleep to make good on that promise. Then, as sleep slowly takes him, there are no more bumps in the night.

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p. 4.5

second half of exoplanet part 4!

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: PLEASE READ! mentions of nsfw content (read at your own risk), violence, explicit language. also a lot of angst. ellie is still kind of a dick but not quite as much. 

a/n: haha. isn’t it sooo funny how i said this would come out almost 12 hours later and then i posted it? i need to hit the hay early asf today if im to be frank w you guys so here it is now. i want to thank you all for the sweet and kind messages and comments i’ve been getting—they’ve been fuel for my writing!! also, i’ve got a better idea of how i want to end it now, so i’ve got a pretty good outline for what’s going to happen. expect around 3 more parts (one of which may or may not be an epilogue from ellie’s pov). as always thanks for reading!

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4.0 (first half of this part) 

playlist inspired by exoplanet!!

wc: 6.5k

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower​ 

enjoy x 

Dina’s sudden reappearance in your life was turning into one of the best things you had going on. When you were done with work, instead of loitering about Joel’s home and hoping to run into Ellie, you’d knock on Dina’s front door and spend your afternoons gossiping and trading stories. 

She never asked so explicitly about Ellie again, but you could tell that occasionally she wanted to.

“Guess whose birthday it is this weekend?” asked Dina one day in late April. The Wyoming sun was hung high in the sky, and the weather was steadily becoming warmer. The temperature was stuck at a breezy 60, and a part of you wondered just how hot it would get over the summer. 

Terranova rarely ever got over 70 degrees. Would it be hotter than that? Would you even be here to see it?

“Yours?” you guessed casually, pushing away the ever-present question of how long you’d really be in Jackson.

Dina snorted. “No. Not quite. You just missed mine, actually. I’m a December baby.” 

“Jesse?”

“No.”

“Joel?”

“Nope.” Her mouth popped on the p. 

Your heart thudded. “Uh—Ellie?” 

Her face split into a wide grin. “Yes! It’s her 20th. Isn’t that crazy? She’s ancient.” 

“Wow!” you said, coaxing faux enthusiasm into your voice. 

You and her had kept seeing each other at night, long after Joel had turned in. It always proceeded like clockwork—she’d come knock at your door, you’d fall into her bed, and then you’d leave.

You’d thankfully avoided any of the embarrassing stuff that you’d done the second night—no more unnecessary sensual face touching and whispers of her being a good person. You wanted to, though. There was so much that you ached to tell her, so many words that threatened to spill from your lips that you just barely managed to keep at bay. 

The worst part was the way that nothing had really changed between you two beyond what transpired every few evenings in her room. Each morning, you’d wake up knowing that you were in for another day of pretending like she didn’t know what it sounded like when you whined and begged and told her where to touch you. Like you didn’t know how her mouth tasted.

“I want to get her a present,” Dina was saying. “I do something for her every year, but I want this birthday to be a little different—given that she’s made it two decades and all, you know.” 

“That’s really thoughtful of you.”

Dina’s eyes sparkled. “I know! Do you want to help? If you do, I’ll tell her it’s from you, too.”

“Actually,” you said, wheels in your head turning, “That would be amazing. I have no idea what I’d get her otherwise.”

“Great.” Dina leaned back, nabbing her backpack from the ground and fishing through it until she produced a map. She unfolded it and began gesturing over the marks. “I found an abandoned bookstore in this area outside of the wall.” She tapped on a dot that she’d made, situated a fair ways away from the wall and on the opposite side of the town as the dam. 

“So we’re going shopping?”

Dina laughed. “Yeah. 5 finger discount, too. The only problem is that we might need to kill some baddies to qualify, but once we clear our way, it’s home free.”

“Right,” you said, fear creeping into your bones at the thought of having to fight off the infected. You’d only been on a few patrols since you’d been shot, and each had been totally unnoteworthy. You’d yet to actually shoot your gun at anything. “You—you do know that I’m not actually that good of a patrol partner, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Dina, waving her hand dismissively. “I can take care of us. Plus, we haven’t seen infected in this area for a while. This is a pretty remote area—tough to reach unless you know what you’re looking for.”

“So, when are we going?”

A glimmer appeared in her eye. “Now?”

~

“Where are you going?” 

Ellie stood, her arms crossed as she leaned against the opposite wall. You were grabbing your patrol things, slinging your backpack over your shoulders and pulling on the gray sweatshirt she’d given you.

“Out with Dina,” you said, slightly breathless from moving so quickly. You hadn’t been expecting Ellie to be home—normally she was keeping herself busy picking up extra patrol shifts and helping Joel. It had been an unwelcome surprise to run into her, sour faced and serious while you were trying to get ready. 

“Out where?”

You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “Dina said she wanted to show me something.”

She was silent as you finished lacing up your shoes, but you could see her watching you from the corner of your eyes.

“I’ll be back in time for tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you offered snidely, hardly realizing what you’d said until it had left your lips. It had been a low blow. It had been nasty. You weren’t sure why you’d said it. 

“That’s not—” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know.” You stood up, feeling deflated. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” 

Ellie sent you a tight smile. “It’s fine.”  

You walked back to Dina’s feeling heavy. That was how most of your interactions with Ellie seemed to go nowadays—awkward, stiff, and remarkably unfriendly. You weren’t sure what changed. And she was still fucking you, which didn’t make much sense.

Sometimes it felt like she was distancing herself on purpose. But that had to be wrong, because why would she do that? You obviously liked her. She wasn’t the one at risk of being hurt. 

You and Dina took off by foot as the sun began to set, well-armed with both weapons and navigational equipment. Well—Dina was, at least. All you had was the small gun Ellie had given you. Dina was doing all of the heavy lifting.

The forest was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by songbirds and the sound of wind rustling through the leaves. Spring had hit Jackson suddenly, the underbrush exploding in volume and flowers blooming everywhere.

As you two walked through the woods, chattering mindlessly and generally enjoying each other’s company, you made a mental reminder to return to the forest to pick up a makeshift bouquet of flowers. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to swoon over things like that, but even the most unromantic people could recognize the gesture of flowers. You were sure she’d at least put them in a vase. 

Eventually the path Dina was leading you on opened up to a heavily overgrown street, a small decrepit strip mall hidden away in the shrubbery.

“Here!” said Dina cheerily. She jogged forward, scrubbing the moss off of the door to show a book icon on the filthy glass.

“And you said that there’s no infected here?” you asked, your fingers wrapped nervously around your gun.

“Of course I did,” said Dina. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere that was infested?”

The glass shattered as a body came crashing through the door, thrashing and clicking in a mass of bloody limbs as it took Dina to the ground.

Your finger squeezed the trigger before you could think, sending a spray of gore into the air as Dina forced the thing off of her and stood, panting. 

There wasn’t even a chance to breathe. A piercing shriek cut through the air before three more followed the first, not paying any mind to the jagged edges of the broken door that grabbed at their mutilated skin. 

“Fuck!” Dina’s knife went swinging through the air, slicing and jabbing at the creatures in front of you. They fell in quick succession, but there was more rustling and screaming from inside. Far too much rustling. “Run!”

She didn’t have to tell you twice. Despite the fact that you’d never been a track star in school, you bolted quicker than you’d even known possible. Your backpack banged against your back as you sprinted down the road, ducking into the brush and making a break for it with Dina right on your tail. 

The walk there had taken close to 30 minutes. Your sprint cut that in over half. You and Dina ran in stride, with her lagging behind to send off a few shots to ground the runners that were quick enough to keep up. The clearing you appeared in all the way back in the winter flashed by you in a second, and within another few moments, you were both resting against the wall, chests heaving as you both picked off the stragglers that had come out of the forest to investigate.

By the time the last gunshot rang out and the final infected slumped to the ground, you were shaking uncontrollably, your gun vibrating in your hand. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” said Dina, equally breathless though significantly more composed as you two walked through the entrance, getting concerned looks from the people who were manning the gate. “I’ve never seen so many in that store before. I don’t understand. It was clear the last time I went.” 

Before you could respond, someone stepped into your eye line.

“What the fuck did you do,” seethed Ellie. Her eyes were wild, her lip curled in a manner so derisive you began to wonder if you’d ever actually seen her angry before this. 

“Chill, Ellie,” said Dina. “Y/N and I were just going to try and pick something up for your birthday. There were…a few more than what I was expecting. But it’s fine. We handled them. She did great.”

Ellie looked at you then, and you could feel her taking you in. Her eyes rested with accusation at the way that your hands were trembling. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dina. You knew that she’s never done this before. What the fuck is wrong with you, taking her out like that?”

“It was clear the last time I was there!” Dina spoke with her hands, waving them through the air in emphasis.“There wasn’t supposed to be any. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t purposefully try to get us killed.” 

Ellie sent her another scathing look before turning her attention to you. “And don’t even get me started with you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped. 

Dina sent you a wink and disappeared down the street in the direction of her house. 

“I was thinking of your birthday, actually,” you said delicately. “We were going to get you something from the bookstore.”

“That is not an excuse to go get yourself killed!”

You held up your hands in mock surrender, which looked really stupid considering how hard you were still trembling. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the original plan. Can we not do this right now? I’m still trying to, uh, process what happened.” 

As if to punctuate your point, the next step you took nearly sent you to the ground, your knees wobbling. 

Ellie’s hands were at your sides in an instant, solid and steadying against you as you regained your balance.

“Sorry,” you said again, lower this time. 

“How many?” Ellie asked. Her voice was softer now, almost resigned. She hadn’t let go yet.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “After the first three or four, I lost count. They just kept—” You winced at the memory of the wet sound that they made hitting the ground. “They just kept coming.” 

“You did them a favor,” said Ellie, stepping back and to your side as you began to walk forward. Her hand stayed posed on your forearm. “It gets easier.” 

“I don’t know if I want it to get easier,” you confessed. 

“Well, how about you start by never doing something that fucking stupid again.” Her words lacked any venom. “Don’t you ever go out without me again, okay? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”

You gave your trembling hands a look. “I can take a guess.”

Ellie walked you back to Joel’s house, helping you out of your jacket and unsubtly checking your skin for bites. Or at least that’s what she said she was doing. She couldn’t seem to stop touching you. 

You headed back up to your room to get changed as Ellie shut the front door and was off to finish her work with Tommy. As you leisurely made your way down the hallway, you noticed that something was off—the hallway closet was slightly ajar.

The memories of your first night there came floating back to you, images of Ellie shutting the door before you could see inside emerging to the forefront.

It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? It was probably nothing. 

Your hand wrapped tentatively around the handle, pulling the door open so slowly that the old, rusty hinge fell silent.

It wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you were expecting at all. 

It wasn’t really a closet—there were a few shelves, but no hangers. In their place, there were stacks of textbooks with old, dated covers of the stars, planets, and physics. The back wall was plastered with drawings of constellations and calculations in Ellie’s messy scrawl, reminiscent of the leftover scrap paper from when you sat your physics exams and did your problem sets.

The memory of Ellie staring at your textbook re-emerged to hit you with full force. No wonder she was interested in it. THIS is what she was going to say that she wanted to study when you’d asked her. 

A slow smile crept onto your face as you thought about her upcoming birthday.

You knew what you were getting her now. 

~

Preparing for Ellie’s surprise party was a full day’s worth of work. You and Dina had convinced Maria to give Ellie enough things to do that she’d stay out of the house for the majority of the afternoon. You felt kind of guilty that Ellie was being put to work on her birthday of all days, but Dina just shook her head.

“It’s Ellie,” she said. “She lives to act all macho and patrol and shit. This is probably an extra present to her.” 

You two had located some flour, sugar, eggs, and butter and were hard at work baking a cake. It was tough going without a real recipe, but you’d grown up with a mother who loved baking, so you tried to do it from memory.

The result was a rather lopsided looking monstrosity that you and Dina had attempted to salvage through the liberal application of the thin icing you’d managed to whip up using milk and powdered sugar. It didn’t work, and you two didn’t wait long enough for the cake to cool before frosting it, so it melted in puddles and made the cake soggy.

“Fantastic work,” said Dina, wiping her hands on her front as you two surveyed the final product. “Really incredible, Y/N. You should really consider a career change.”

“Shut up,” you said, snorting. “Ellie’s gonna hate this.”

“She’s going to think it’s hilarious,” Dina corrected. “I’m sure it can’t taste too bad, right?”

You shivered. “Don’t say that.”

The decorations and gathering of presents were thankfully an easier challenge, and before you knew it Joel’s living room was fixed up to look obnoxious as possible, with a tacky “HAPP BIRTHDAE ELLIE” strung up in blood red reflective plastic (you two couldn’t find any Ys) above the fireplace. “Happy 5th Birthday!” balloons filled the ceiling, their gaudy purple color clashing horrifically with the red of the lettering. 

“This is just awful, Dina,” you said. “Ellie’s never going to speak to us again.”

“You need to chill,” Dina responded. “She might act grumpy all of the time, but I know her, and I know she’ll secretly like this.”

7 rolled around quickly, and with it came the guests.

First was the unsurprising Jesse, grinning and carrying a satchel that had a makeshift card attached to the top labeled “Ellie”. 

Next came Astrid, Bonnie, and Greg—all of the patrolmen that were roughly around your age. You hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but they’d always been fun.

Last came a girl you’d never seen before.

“Hi!” she said, extending a hand and looking at you through a fringe of choppy black hair. 

“Hi!” you said, taking her hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I’m Cat.”

“I can’t believe you two haven’t met before,” said Dina, swooping in to stand beside you. There was something written on her face—something that looked kind of like worry.

“I can’t either!” you said good-naturedly. “How do you know Ellie?”

Dina cringed.

Cat just smiled wider. “Oh. Ellie and I go way back.”

“Cat, why don’t you go help me in the kitchen? I need to finish plating some stuff,” said Dina. 

“Sure!” Cat sent you one more winning smile, following Dina with a bounce in her step.

Something felt deeply off about that interaction, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. You’d never seen Dina so eager to get you away from someone. Maybe it’d just been a coincidence?

You didn’t get a chance to dwell on it further, because Ellie was opening the door. 

“Surprise!” Everyone in the living room yelled upon seeing her. 

Ellie blanched, her eyes landing on you for a moment before she cast her gaze to the rest of the room. “What’s this?”

“Your birthday party,” said Dina, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and other appetizers, Cat in tow. “You didn’t think we were just going to let you turn 20 without embarrassing you just a little bit?”

“Those are the most hideous balloons I’ve ever seen,” said Ellie, crossing her arms.

“Thanks,” you said, beaming. “I picked them out myself.” 

Much to your surprise, her lips lifted until she was smiling back. “You’re such a loser.”

“Okay!” said Dina, clearing her throat and stepping in between you two. “You two can flirt later. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for an entire day. Let’s eat.”

You shut your mouth, blushing uncontrollably as your eyes lifted. Ellie’s cheeks looked uncharacteristically pink and her eyes were fixed on your shoes.

Dinner went by quickly, with everyone trading odd stories about patrolling and their life before Jackson. You learned that Dina had actually been born in New Mexico and that Astrid was from Oregon. You heard all about how Jesse and Greg came across an old mall a few miles out of Jackson that was so full of infected that they could hear them scratching at the doors and clicking even before they were within eyesight of the building. You told some stories about your life in Terranova, about studying and your family. 

“What the fuck is this?” asked Ellie once Dina had reappeared, carrying your sorry excuse of a birthday cake. Time had not treated it well. The first layer was almost entirely slid off, and the cake looked damp from the melted icing.

“It’s your birthday cake,” you said. “We, uh, tried. I don’t have a cake recipe memorized, and it was harder than I expected.”

The candles Dina attempted to stick into the cake kept falling out, the structural integrity so weakened from the melted frosting that chunks were coming off.

“Let’s just pretend that there’s 20 candles,” said Dina finally once the top layer of the cake finally split in half. 

“Right,” said Ellie, snorting. 

Dina led a very enthusiastic rendition of the Happy Birthday song that ended in cheers and hollers as Ellie dramatically lowered her head to the cake and pretended to blow the “candles” out. 

No one touched the cake, but you couldn’t blame them. 

Next came presents. Jesse went first, giving Ellie a satchel that held a bunch of cleaning equipment for her patrol rifles. Dina had found a t-shirt that said “Enemy of the State” in goofy comic sans lettering, and Ellie was unsuccessful in holding back her giggles at seeing it. 

“Dina, this is so stupid,” she said, but there was no venom in her tone, just amusement. 

It was your turn next, so you leaned across the table to place the small box in front of her. 

“Please tell me you didn’t almost die getting this one,” said Ellie, giving you a suspicious look.

“Not at all,” you said. “I accidentally brought it from Terranova.” 

Her nimble fingers untied the flimsy ribbon you’d haphazardly wrapped around the tiny brown box, lifting the lid off and peering inside.

“It’s a…rock?” Ellie frowned, pulling it out and holding it in her hand.

“You got her a rock for her birthday?” Cat asked you from her position to your right, her eyebrows raised.

“It’s not just a rock,” you said. “It’s a moon rock. Like, from the moon.”

Ellie froze, her eyes saucers as she stared at the rock balanced in her palm. “What?”

“I told you I studied astrophysics,” you said casually. “One of my professors let me borrow it because my research supervisor wanted to take a look at it, so it was in my bag. And I never had the chance to give it to him, obviously. So it’s yours now.” 

“Holy fuck.” She turned in over, her fingers running across the surface. “This is…wow. Oh my god.”

“That’s so cool, dude,” Jesse said. “Like, insane. I didn’t even know that those were a thing.”

“There’s only a couple in the world,” you added. “And even fewer that are still reachable. The rest are…well, out here somewhere. Terranova only has a few from our own expeditions and the professors who managed to grab what they had when they moved.”

“This one’s from me,” said Cat, leaning forward and placing an envelope in front of Ellie. “It’s not as cool as a moon rock, but I thought you’d like it.” 

Her fingers slid under the tongue of the envelope, ripping it open and pulling a piece of paper out. 

“Good for one more free tattoo,” Ellie read out.

Cat sat back, looking awfully pleased with herself. 

“Cat was the one who gave Ellie the one on her arm,” Dina explained to you.

 A memory pricked at your consciousness, dating back to your first patrol with Ellie.

An ex had given her the tattoo on her arm.

The girl who had given her tattoo was Cat.

Cat was her ex.

That makes so much sense you realized with horror as you remembered how Cat had told you so confidently that she and Ellie went way back. Of course they did. They used to date.

“Where’d you go?” asked Dina, bumping your shoulder.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Just, uh, tired.”

When you looked up, Ellie’s eyes were on you, her lips slightly quirked.

You looked away, instead focusing on the placemats that Dina had set out. Cat was so different from you—so peppy, so confident, so loud. No wonder Ellie didn’t want anything more than what you had now. Whatever Ellie had seen in Cat had nothing to do with you. 

The night ended with you all sitting on the couches in the living room with Dina mixing drinks so strong that you were wondering if she was trying to kill you. 

“Jesus Christ, Dina,” you said as you watched her pour. “What is that? 90 percent vodka?” 

“I prefer to call it efficient,” Dina corrected. 

It burned going down your throat and you fought back a cough as you placed your glass back on the coffee table. Ellie was right next to you, her thigh barely brushing against yours as you moved.

Cat was on the other side of the room, seated next to Jesse and Astrid. You were internally very proud that Ellie had chosen to sit next to you instead. Her arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, and even though it couldn’t have meant all that much, you couldn’t help but wonder if it at least meant something. 

You were just halfway through your cup by the time you started to feel really and properly sloshed. Your voice sounded tinny in your ears, and from the way that Ellie was laughing at anything anyone said, you had a sneaking suspicion that she was somewhere around where you were.

It wasn’t long before everyone had excused themselves and wished Ellie a final happy birthday—it was getting late and quite a few had early shifts the next day.

Dina was the last to go, saying goodbye and sending you another look as she pointedly stared at the arm rested behind you.

For a few minutes, you and Ellie just sat in silence, hearing the fire crackle and the sound of her softly breathing.

Then she spoke.

“How did you know that I’d like the moon rock?”

“Oh.” You blushed. “Don’t be mad. You left the closet door open the other day—you know, the one with all your space textbooks and everything. It was an educated guess.” 

“So nosy,” she tutted. 

“But you do like the rock?” 

She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

You reached forward and polished off the rest of the drink that Dina had made you, feeling the liquid fire slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. 

When you turned back, you could see Ellie staring at you, her auburn hair glowing in the firelight, her pupils blown wide, and her eyes slightly unfocused. She’d had more than one of the drinks that Dina had made, and it was really showing. 

“You’re so pretty.”

You froze. Out of all the things you expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. The words had left Ellie’s lips like a compulsion, raw and honest. 

She hadn’t stopped looking at you, but her eyes were wider, her cheeks red. She hadn’t meant to say it, you realized. Now she was embarrassed and flustered, and it was all because of you. 

It was the boldness of being tipsy that made you move towards her, pulling your legs up until you were seated on your knees in front of her.

Ellie didn’t move apart from wetting her lips, her eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth. 

When you kissed her, she melted into you. The arm that had been draped over the couch behind you dropped to your back, your own hands sliding into her hair and tightening at the back of her neck.

She gasped as she felt your nails scrape against her, and you took the opportunity to lick into her open mouth, tasting the vodka on her tongue as it slid against yours.

To your surprise, her hands didn’t creep up your shirt or dip below the waist of your pants. They stayed static, one glommed onto your back while the other clutched your jaw as she let you kiss her, over and over again. 

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about it that felt different than your usual nighttime meetups. It felt more—vulnerable, almost, that Ellie was kissing you just to kiss you, not with some other agenda. 

The grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was almost midnight. You pulled away from her for a second, panting as you caught your breath. A string of saliva suspended between your lips, snapping as you waved a hand through it and flushed.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

She just smiled.

“Is Joel going to be back soon?”

As if to punctuate your point, the front door banged open, the man in question pulling his jacket off and turning to see you both. You’d thankfully managed to get off her lap before he saw. 

“Oh!” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I wasn’t expecting you two to still be awake.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Ellie, scratching the back of her neck. “We’ve just been…talking.”

“Good party?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m glad. Tommy and Maria wish you a happy birthday, by the way. Though I’m sure you knew that.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Well,” said Joel, giving a sigh that only old men could recreate, “I’m off to bed. You two don’t stay up too late, huh? You’ve still got work tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight,” you two chorused. 

Once Joel had disappeared into his room, you turned to look at her.

“That was close.” 

“Yeah.” Ellie laughed nervously, picking at her cuticles. “Um—do you want to move somewhere else?”

Something deep in your chest ached. Sure, you’d be okay with spending another hour or so feeling her hands on you as she made you finish, but a part of you had really liked just touching her for the sake of touching her—kissing her just because you could.

“Sure,” you said. “Just give me a chance to change.”

When you knocked after switching into more comfortable clothes, the door swung open to reveal a significantly more nervous looking Ellie than you’d seen in a while.

“Hi,” you said shyly.

“Hi.” 

You stepped into her, pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she didn’t react, you pulled back.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to stay over?” Ellie blurted out, her eyes wide and afraid. 

You balked. “Uh, what?”

“You don’t have to,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not like that. I just thought that—maybe, I dunno, just this once—”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “Please. I’d really like that.” 

“Right. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath, then laced her fingers through yours to lead you to her bed.

When your mouth found hers again, it was just like on the couch—no intentionally rough or overtly sexual touches, just gentle brushes against your skin and the weight of fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you further into her.

For the first time since you confessed, you didn’t sleep together. When you two finally tired out, you flopping down on the pillow first, Ellie’s head came to rest on the expanse of skin between your shoulder and your neck, your arms coming around her.

It was strange. For someone so deadly and tough, Ellie suddenly looked so small and fragile curled against you, the rise and fall of her chest synchronized with your breathing. 

“I’m sorry Cat was invited,” Ellie said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into your neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have told you what her name was. That must’ve been a nasty surprise.”

Her foresight and understanding made your heart ache, deeply. How was it that she could say all these things but not want anything more with you?

“It was alright,” you said. There was no conviction in your tone. “I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me.”

Ellie was silent for a few beats. You knew she was thinking, though; you could feel the flutter of her lashes against you as she blinked.

“How long do you think it’ll take for you to forget me?”

You paused. “What? What do you mean?”

Ellie shifted against you, one of her arms draped over your chest. “I mean, when you go back.”

“Ellie,” you chided, bringing your hand up so you could run your fingers through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d ever just leave you behind. If I go back there, I’m finding some way to bring you with me. So, no. That’s not even a valid question. I’m never forgetting you.” 

In truth, you hadn’t even begun to consider what you’d do if—when—you were found. You’d been so focused on trying to fit into your new life here that your past had largely just faded into the back, shrinking in the horizon. What you did know, at least, was that even in some dystopian future without Ellie, she’d never be off of your mind.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

“I’m not,” you replied, tapping her shoulder. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me.” 

Her diaphragm vibrated as she let out a short laugh. “Oh, the horrors.” 

She fell silent as you kept threading your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scrape against her scalp. The hand that wasn’t draped over your chest had crept up, her thumb rubbing back and forth as she traced the outline of your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I can be such a sad drunk sometimes. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, your other hand lightly dancing up and down her back. “I think it’s sweet.”

She snorted. “You would.” 

Then, after a few more seconds of silence: “You really weren’t jealous?”

“I never said that.” 

“So she did make you jealous?”

You flicked her shoulder. “Fuck off. Of course she did. Happy?”

“Thrilled.” 

A few moments later, she spoke up again. 

“Can you promise me something?” Her voice was deceptively casual.

“Anything.” You’d give her anything she wanted.

“Promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity to go home,” she said softly. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll take the first opportunity to go home as long as I get to have you around, too.” 

You couldn’t see it, but you knew she was rolling her eyes. “Not good enough.”

“You want me to leave that badly?” You weren’t sure if you should be hurt.

“Of course not,” she responded. “I just...I don’t expect you to wait around here for me. I don’t want you to. I want you to be safe.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“Will you just—fucking—say you’ll go?” Her voice sounded raw, tired. 

“Fine,” you said. “I promise.” 

Your words were empty. You couldn’t promise her that. She had to know that. But would it matter? If you never had to make that choice?

In retrospect, you weren’t sure when you drifted off. All you remembered was the warmth of Ellie gathered up in your arms, her measured breath blowing across your exposed neck as you felt the slow, marching rhythm of her heart.

~

When you awoke to the early morning sunbeams streaming in through the window and warming your face, Ellie was passed out cold on top of you. A few unruly strands of her auburn hair had ruffled upwards overnight, sticking to your cheek and threatening the seams of your lips. 

You’d never been happier.

As you thought, running your hand gently up and down the length of her spine, Ellie’s breath hitched.

You froze, thinking you must have woken her.

Then she made a quiet snort. She took another deep breath in, whistling as it went. Her next exhale was louder and caught in her nose. 

You did your best not to laugh enough to wake her.

Ellie snored, even though she wasn’t that loud. The part of you that was still intimidated by her was shrinking by the minute. If only you had known in the beginning that after a long day of bullying you she went back to her room to honk shoo the night away, you never would’ve let it bother you.

She jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she pulled away and looked up at you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” she said groggily. “It’s—” She twisted in your arms, squinting at her desk. “It’s 6 in the fucking morning. Shut up.” With that, she flopped back down on top of you, laying one arm over your torso so she could shove it the space under the pillow beside your head. 

“You shut up,” you heard yourself say. 

Ellie smacked your shoulder, not even bothering to lift her head. 

“You snore,” you said, quieter this time. 

“I don’t.”

“You literally do. I was there when it happened.” 

She was silent for a few moments. “Really?”

You pressed your lips to her forehead instead as you trembled from the laugh you were doing your best to rein in.

“Oh, god,” groaned Ellie. “That’s so embarrassing.” 

“I thought it was cute.”

“You think everything I do is cute.” 

“And what about it?”

You settled back in, wrapping your arms around Ellie as you tried to drift back off.

“Do you hear that?” 

Her voice was whispered.

“Hear what?”

“That sound.” 

You let go of her and sat up, your eyes unfocused as you tried your best to tune into whatever Ellie was talking about. Out of the corner of your vision you could see her staring at you with big, nervous eyes.

It took you a moment to notice it. No one could blame you, really. It was hardly a rarity to hear the sound of a plane when you grew up in Terranova. 

“That’s a plane, Ellie,” you said, reaching out to cup her face. “It’s fine.” 

“A plane?” She frowned, still blinking bleariness out of her eyes. “I’ve never heard one before. Joel told me that they stopped being used after the government officially fell.”

“That’s not true,” you corrected. “There’s some in—”

A puzzle piece clicked into place, and with it came a sense of underlying dread. But you shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s what you were hoping for after all, weren’t you? What you’d been praying for since you’d arrived?

“Let’s go outside and look,” you said, nudging her side. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You were hoping it was nothing. 

Ellie followed you, pulling a throw blanket from her bed and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked so cute like that. You wanted to bite her. Not, like, in a weird blood kink way. Just in a…you didn’t know how to describe it. Better leave it there. 

A lump formed in your throat.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this had nothing to do with you.

The air was tepid and pleasant against your bare skin as you two quietly opened the front door and crept onto the porch. The town was quiet. No one was awake at this hour, not unless they were down by the stables or doing night watch. 

There was a sliver of pink and orange hanging over the tops of the mountains, no doubt remnants of what had been a spectacular sunrise. There were still snowy caps on the highest peaks. You hadn’t known that mountains could stay so cold for so long until you’d come to Jackson.

The lump in your throat grew larger.

“Shit,” said Ellie, leaping down from the porch and onto the road. “Do you see this?”

The plane was no longer in sight, but the swirling papers that hadn’t been on the road the night before were left as evidence.

“They must’ve dropped them,” said Ellie excitedly, snatching one from the ground and bounding back up the steps so she was next to you. “What do you think this says?”

You smiled sadly. “Why don’t you read it?”

She unfolded the envelope, ripping open the top and dumping the contents out in her hand. 

“Oh.” 

It was a picture of you. It’d been taken months prior at your family’s Christmas party. You’d worn glittery silver eyeliner and curled your hair. The upper half of your body was in view, clad in a rich red fabric that landed right below your collarbones. A string of creamy white pearls were clasped around your neck, matching the teardrop pearls that hung delicately from your ears. 

HAVE YOU SEEN HER?

There was no other text, but you did notice a divet at the top right corner in the shape of a small oval. 

Terranovan security. Of course. 

Wordlessly, you pressed your thumb into the mold, holding it there for a second as the parchment recorded your print.

Then a paragraph formed at the bottom, ink slowly leaking into the paper.

COME TO THE COORDINATES LISTED BELOW AT EXACTLY NOON, MAY 15TH. A LIFT WILL BE WAITING TO ESCORT YOU.

You’d been found. 

final a/n: sorry not sorry this was the original cliffhanger that i was planning for part 4 all along. you guys are incredible for still sticking around and reading even though this is getting lengthy as hell. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this sort of different side of ellie before we reach the final act. the plot is abt to reach its peak and i’m hellaaa excited to share it with you. okok let me know what you think! it might take me around the same time it took me to finish part 4 to get part 5 out considering how sick i am/how much i have on my plate, but i promise it’s coming :))

[another-supernova-girl]

Because the Night - John Woodruff (Oh Lucy!) x Fem OC - Part 1 (of 2)

(AKA Fuckboys Have Feelings, Too)

warnings : mild consensual sexual content, profanity, mentions of alcohol, mentions of self harm, mentions of past infidelity (not between OC and John) I watched Oh Lucy! after witnessing the gif sets of *that scene* and, oops, 10,000 words of fanfic happened. This was originally intended as a one-shot, but I've split it up due to the size of it. The second half is 90% complete and will be posted within a few days of this 1st chapter. Sorry, not sorry, to the OC haters, but no one else seems to be writing for this character, so...I'll write what I like! Gif is mine.

(( word count : ~ 5,700 ))

“Oh, no,” Nikki mumbled as she stood at the front door of a stranger's house, bags of food clutched in her hands, waiting to be delivered. The dwelling wasn't familiar, but the loudest voice emitting from inside, and upon second glance, a car parked a few houses down, were unmistakable, and a groan escaped her throat as a man she knew all to well opened the door.

“Nikki?” he asked, surprised, glancing at his phone for the displayed information of his assigned 'Dasher'. “Damn, if I'd known you were delivering, I would have left a bigger tip-”

“And I would have declined the job,” she mumbled, shoving the bags of Tex-Mex toward him. “Goodb-”

“Wait! Wait, don't...” the currently unemployed, former university professor John Woodruff spoke up, his voice quickly softening, barely audible against the loud music from inside that flowed through the open door. “Can I borrow you?”

“Borrow...no. No way, I gotta go-”

“Please? I need a favor-”

“I don't care-”

“Nikki, I really...look. I got invited to this party, and I didn't know my buddy was trying to set me up, and she is just...she's really not my type, and she won't leave me alone,” John whispered, his proximity increasing as he spoke against the noise from inside.

“John...why would I help you-”

“I'll...I'll pay you. I will literally give you money to keep this girl off my-”

“Dick?” Nikki offered, a smirk threatening to overtake her lips.

“...I was going to say 'back', but yeah, that too, I guess,” he mumbled, giving her those big pleading eyes that had an established history of making her brain go stupid.

“You'll pay me?” she finally asked to confirm, and the middle-aged beach bum nodded in the affirmative. “Is that, like...on top of the money you already owe me?” she inquired, watching his face blanch.

“I owe you money?” he whispered in an even smaller voice.

“Who do you not owe money, Professor?” she asked, and John squeezed his eyes closed, defeat taking over his features.

“Please?” he hedged, his brows knitting together as he opened his eyes again. “I will do whatever you want, I just really don't need this right now,” he implored, his body slumping against the door frame, his head cocked to one side.

Closing her own eyes, Nikki began to shake her head side to side slowly, letting out a sigh as she finally looked up at the looming man again. “Fine,” she breathed, and his eyes widened in genuine surprise, smiling in relief before glancing back over his shoulder to the party-goers inside. “Am I, like...supposed to be your fake girlfriend, or-”

“Yes!” John nearly shouted before lowering his voice, finally taking the bags out of her hands, watching her reach into her back pocket for her phone to pause deliveries. “You...you're amazing,” he mumbled, even as she continued to frown at her device, putting it away. “Just...pretend to be my girlfriend until this chick leaves, and I will...whatever you want, it's yours-”

“I thought you said you were going to pay me-”

“Yeah, like I said, whatever you want,” he mumbled, and she let out a frustrated sigh as she set the alarm on her car and stepped inside the house, John disappearing just long enough to set the food down in the kitchen, and reappearing almost immediately.

“Give me your hoodie,” she insisted when he stepped close enough to hear her over the thumping music.

“My hoodie?”

“Yeah, that's what girlfriends do, right? Steal their boyfriends' hoodies?” she explained, her arms crossed over her body like she was cold. John chose to ignore, for the moment, the etched lines on the inside of her forearm as he shrugged off his zippered jacket and stepped around her to assist her in slipping into it. “So, who are we putting on a show for?”

“A show?” he asked, slightly confused, watching her drag the metal zipper pull up to her collarbone, the oversized article swamping her smaller frame.

“Yeah, what girl are you so desperate to not fuck,” Nikki clarified, watching him as he nodded, following his gaze until he settled on a blonde across the room, staring back at them. John's bare arms wrapped around her before she could breathe another word. “She's...cute,” Nikki mumbled, her arms winding around the unemployed man's back, turning her head to glance away when the other woman's eyes focused on her own.

“She's a moron,” John mumbled, setting his scruff-darkened chin atop her crown.

“I thought you liked dumb girls,” she whispered, feeling his chest rise and fall against her from the close contact.

“Even I have my limits,” he claimed, his stomach announcing it's hunger and distracting them both. “Are you hungry?”

* * *

“So...since when do you deliver food,” John muttered between bites of his taco, Nikki sitting beside him on the front porch, away from the bulk of the noise, staring off at nothing in particular.

“Since my housing situation took a turn,” she returned, glancing over to the man beside her. Nothing on his face indicated surprise.

“Yeah, I, uh...I heard you and your guy broke up,” he mentioned, and she nodded, hunching forward to lessen the instinct to look at him. Even when he was irritating her, he still managed to look obnoxiously pretty. “You okay? I mean, aside from the...housing...thing,” he muttered, stuffing the last of his food into his mouth, and rubbing his hands together to rid himself of tortilla dust.

“I guess...I don't think I ever really let myself get too attached to him,” she mused, playing at the edges of the hoodie sleeves that fell past her fingertips. “As it turned out, he had a case of W.D.S., so...”

John's brows came together in confusion as he watched her avoid looking at him, “What is W.D.S.?”

“Wandering Dick Syndrome,” she confirmed with a nod, glancing his way with a less serious look when he chuckled at the explanation.

“I, uh...I don't think I've ever heard it called that,” he noted.

“I coined it,” Nikki added, and John nodded, trying to hold back any more laughter. Just because she could make a joke about it didn't necessarily mean she was unbothered by it.

“You sure you're okay?” John finally asked again, his facade a bit more serious as he reached out to brush loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I, uh...I noticed you started, um...I didn't know you were still doing that,” he mumbled, indicating her left arm, swamped in the fabric of his jacket.

“They're not that fresh,” she muttered, wrapping her arms more tightly around herself, even in the temperate air. John's brows lifted at once as she let out a breath that tinged on a laugh. “You know, he, uh...he never noticed...not that I was exactly shoving it in his face, or anything, but...You know what?” she sigh, pursing her lips as she stared out at the road, cluttered with parked cars, their drivers filling the house behind the faux couple. “I don't really wanna talk about it.”

John was silent for several seconds, watching as she fidgeted more with the cuffs of the hoodie, trying to disappear even further into the oversized article. When he finally reached an arm out and wrapped it around her shoulder, pulling her in closer to himself, she put up no fight.

“So...why were you with that guy, anyway? I mean, if he wasn't worth getting attached to, or...” John queried, adjusting his body further to accommodate the young woman beside him as she nestled in against him, her temple against his shoulder, his large hand palming hers. Something about the lack of distance between them felt familiar, but he couldn't decide on the reason. They'd known each other for years, perhaps more than was ethical given the age difference between them, but nothing romantic or sexual had ever bloomed between them. Even so, something about it felt strangely natural to him.

“I dunno,” she finally spoke up, her left hand rising to meet his, their fingers clutching each others from over her shoulder. “I guess I was just...trying to fill up empty space.”

“So, you're saying you need your empty spaces filled-”

“Oh, my god, shut up,” she huffed, rolling her eyes, but her laughter escaped before she could contain it, and she felt the former professor's bristly chin rub against her crown, his free hand sweeping around to lift her own chin, enough for him to see some warmth return to her eyes.

“At least you smiled,” he whispered, his fingers brushing absently along her jaw. His gaze focused on her lips, the smile gone, replaced with something serene, and John's tongue ran between his own lips, quickly filling the space between before it disappeared, his body leaning in closer, Nikki's remaining quite still, save for her closing eyes.

“There you are!” came a deafening shout as the screen door slammed open, missing the 'couple' by inches, and distance automatically formed between them as John's arm dropped away from her shoulder, and they both looked behind themselves at the source of the intrusive voice. “We're outta beer, dude, we need you to go get more,” the boisterous man declared, caring not a bit about the intimate moment he'd pulverized. Before he could even speak up, John was immediately cut off. “Come on, man, you're the closest to sober...and I bought you dinner,” he reminded, his arms crossing as John let out a sigh. When John looked back at the young woman beside him, she shrugged but spoke no words.

“I...Alright,” he surrendered, dropping his arms as they completely abandoned Nikki, dragging himself to his feet as she did the same, crossing her own arms as she watched the inebriated man press cash into John's hand, and disappear back inside.

“Well, I think that's my sign to leave,” she mumbled as she began to unzip the borrowed jacket, but John's hand was on hers before she could separate the two, fleecy edges.

“Don't...don't go...come with me,” he encouraged, pocketing the cash with his other hand.

“I don't really think tha-”

“I know you don't wanna go home,” he cut her off, and her gaze rose to his umber eyes, his parted lips pursing as he stared back at her. “Besides,” he continued, glancing back at the house behind them both. “If you leave now, they'll never believe we're really dating,” he concluded, hopping off the porch and almost tripping as he nearly underestimated the height of the stairs, leading down to the congested driveway.

“Just what this situation needs...more alcohol.” Nikki's voice drifted off as she watched the middle-aged man jog through the grassy yard. Didn't it start a lot like this, last time, she pondered as she began to take strides toward the car she'd recognized earlier, old and worn and barely in one piece from the looks of it.

“You say something?” John asked, as Nikki reached the passenger door he'd opened on his way around to the driver's side, watching her as she slipped inside the car.

“Nothing,” she lied, feigning a smile at him before clicking her seat-belt into place.

After an uncomfortable minute or so of both passengers wondering whether the car was going to start, John making several attempts to fire up the engine before it finally caved to his intentions, the two set out down the winding road, passing several parked cars from the party-goers.

“I, uh...I hope it's the battery...I'm fucked if it's the alternator,” John spoke up in the silence, trying to concentrate on the task at hand, and not their almost-kiss on the porch. “Don't suppose you have any deliveries to pick up?” The look on his passenger's face when he glanced over was less than amused. “Sorry,” he quickly murmured.

“Aren't you unemployed? By choice?” she accused, her arms crossing as she stared at John, his brown eyes unusually focused ahead of him. “Some of us actually have to work to get by.”

“I wasn't trying to make fun of you,” he mumbled, his fingers flexing anxiously as he palmed the steering wheel. “I just...don't those gig jobs pay like shit?” he glanced her way, a bit relieved to see she wasn't staring him down any longer.

“It's not great, but...I need the extra money. And like you said, I, uh...I don't spend much more time at home than I absolutely have to. It fills the free time.”

“So, the extra money...you looking for a place?” he asked, bringing the car to a stop as the traffic light they'd been approaching shifted red.

“Not yet. There's nothing I can comfortably afford on my own, but...I really hate being home. It doesn't even feel like home anymore. Most nights, I don't even sleep there.”

John felt a discomfort in the pit of his stomach as he glanced her way, a handful of cars passing back and forth before them, “You aren't, uh...you haven't been...sleeping in your car-”

“No, nothing like that, I'm not...I haven't quite reached that level of desperation yet. I've mostly been bouncing around on a few friends' couches. I just hope I don't wear out my welcome before I've got enough money to move on,” Nikki explained, shifting her gaze from the road ahead of them to the man beside her.

“So...no chance of reconciliation?” John inquired as he drove, on the look out for a promising convenience store.

“I'd move out tomorrow if I could,” she huffed, shifting in the seat and drawing her legs up to cross them before her. “I mean...could you stay with someone who cheated on you? Several times, apparently.”

“I guess not,” he muttered, thoughtful. He wasn't sure if he'd ever had a partner cheat on him. Historically, more often than not, they just got sick of him and left. “'Could you be with someone who cheated at all?”

“Like...a man who's technically still married, but-”

“Separated,” John cut in.

“Not divorced,” she mumbled.

“That's...that's true,” he admitted, pulling off the main street and into a brightly lit gas station parking lot. When the car came to a stop, John shifted into 'park' and left the keys in the ignition as he climbed out of the car, motor still running, leaving without a word into the store, though taking care to not slam his door behind himself. He wasn't frustrated with her. After all, he had basically started the conversation that had led them to silence, again. And much as he preferred to hide from his responsibilities, he wasn't ignorant to the fact that most of those unpleasant aspects were consequences of his own making.

He was relieved to see a thoughtful look on her face when he returned several minutes later, packs of beer in his arms. At least she didn't appear angry with him.

John emptied his cargo into the back seat, and slipped back inside, into the driver's seat, buckling his seat-belt, just beginning to attempt speech again when Nikki suddenly spoke up.

“You know, I kind of have a theory about cheating. Do you wanna hear it?” she asked as she shifted her gaze to the driver. John nodded silently, dropping his hand away from the gearshift, making sure to lock the doors, shifting in his seat to give her his attention. “So, my theory is...you can't cheat on someone you really care about...someone you love.”

“I, uh...I'm confused-”

“Well, hear me out,” she mumbled, adjusting the seat until is slid back, dropping the back rest a bit, and placing her shoe-clad feet up on the dashboard. “I think that...if you're at the point in a relationship where you cheat, or...are considering cheating, or even tempted to put yourself in a situation where you likely would cheat...then you don't really love the person you're with, anymore. If you did, you wouldn't betray them.”

“So...are you in the 'once a cheater, always a cheater' camp?” he asked, considering her with all his faculties as she practically lie down beside him, his gaze following the shadows created from the harsh electric light outside.

“No,” she stated simply, turning her head to glance at him, his eyes taking a few seconds longer than necessary to make it back up to hers. “I think that...if someone cheats in a relationship, it's over. It's done. There's no coming back from that...there wouldn't ever be real trust, and it's basically telling the cheater they can keep getting away with it.” John nodded silently, and Nikki continued. “But...I do think that, just because someone has cheated in the past, it doesn't mean they'll cheat on someone else in the future. We just have to...I dunno, pay more attention? Know ourselves a little better? Recognize when something is over, and...not force ourselves to stay with people that don't make us happy?”

“Sounds like there's a story, there,” John mused, finally reaching out a hand, weaving his fingers between his passenger's.

“Not an interesting one,” she answered, shifting her gaze to their joined hands. “I cheated...a couple times, when I was younger.”

“Really?” John queried, his brows raised in surprise.

“I didn't exactly plan to...I dated a couple of crappy guys when I was nineteen, and...I guess, twenty-one? I think I put up with some subpar boyfriends, because they were the first guys I'd been with since junior year that wanted to be more than just situationships. It almost feels like actual boyfriends somehow seem to put in even less effort than fuckboys.” She paused for a few seconds before her gaze drifted up to his, again. “Why is that?”

“What do you...are you asking from the point of view of a boyfriend, or a fuckboy?”

“Which one do you have more experience being?” she asked simply, and John's brows drew together, eyes a bit more narrow than usual as he peered down at her.

“I'd rather not say,” he finally admitted.

“Which one you've spent more time being, or why one treats girls even worse than the other?”

“Both,” he answered, immediately, redirecting. “So, uh...you said you hadn't planned to cheat, so...what happened?”

“What hap-...Right, um...” she closed her eyes, having trouble concentrating. That was the trouble, one of many, that accompanied the older man beside her. Willfully or not, he had a knack for making even smart girls do foolish things. “Well, under...various circumstances...I ended up sleeping with other people while I was dating those guys, and I broke up with them not long after, but...cheating made me realize that I didn't want to be in those relationships anymore. It wasn't even a case of me, like...falling for someone else. It just made me realize how unhappy I was.” She glanced back to the man beside her, drinking in her every word, contemplation in his eyes. When he didn't speak up, she continued.

“So, the next time a situation came up, when I had an opportunity to cheat with someone I'd been involved with before-”

“Another ex-boyfriend?”

“No, another fuckboy...anyway, when he reached out, with the weakest attempt of an 'I just wanna hang out', I told him 'no', because it wasn't worth putting myself in a situation where I'd be tempted.”

John watched her for several seconds as she lie beside him, reflecting. He didn't speak up until she finally prompted him with a simple, “Well?”

“I was just thinking...if you were still dating your ex, would you be here, beside me?”

Nikki settled more into the reclined seat as she stared up at him, contemplative. “Pretending to be your girlfriend, or-”

“At all,” he interrupted, and she sucked in her bottom lip slightly.

“I, um...I don't know,” she admitted.

John was silent for several seconds as he studied her features, curious of how she really saw him. “Would you be tempted?” he finally asked.

Nikki opened her mouth, as if to speak, but no words came to her, and she glanced around for anything to look upon that wasn't his face, when her wandering eyes focused on the dials above the steering wheel. “I, um...I think we should head back, while you still have the fuel to.”

The ride back was fairly silent, and even as they gathered up the purchases from the back, and trudged along as they carried them inside, finding themselves among the other party-goers, they spoke very little. It wasn't until John unloaded the boxes of cans into an ice-filled cooler, and pulled out something fruity and sweet he'd picked up for her, that she finally spoke up again, “I should, um...I should really go...I think that blonde left, so-”

“I wish you'd stay,” he mumbled suddenly, his hands stilling in the spreading of the ice. “It's kind of nice to pretend.” To her own frustration, she couldn't bring herself to disagree.

* * *

The hour neared midnight as the party guests trickled away, neither Nikki nor John making any attempt to separate from one another. She'd lied, to herself at least, in the car. She'd never have stayed, if she'd been in a relationship. She enjoyed his company too much, and his attention, his handsome face, his voice, his everything. It wasn't that she wouldn't trust him, exactly...she didn't trust herself. And she let him do as he pleased, his chest against her back, his hands on her hips, thumbs in her belt loops as they swayed lightly to the music that had died down to a playlist of 2000's top 40. She was stirred from her contentment when he spoke up against the music, his mouth near her ear as he asked his question.

“Can I ask you something and get an honest answer?” he uttered against the cartilage. When her body stilled, he abandoned her belt loops to wrap his arms lightly around her waist. “Why were you so eager to leave when you saw I was here? I know it's not just about needing money.”

“...Internal conflict?” she finally ventured after a thoughtful pause.

“That's not much of an answer,” he responded, drawing her even closer when someone stepped past them, seeking out refreshment. “Is it just this, uh...” John paused, his hands gripping her sides as he drew her near enough that she felt the scratch of his jeans against the backs of her legs, skin bare below the hem of her shorts, “This...thing, between us...that we don't talk about?”

When she felt him lift the edge of his hoodie that fell below the back pockets of her shorts, dragging her layer of denim against the zipper of his, she felt something else between them beyond the awkwardness, his hands finding her hips.

“That's part of it,” she finally whispered when he leaned in again, and she felt the pleasant scrape of his patchy beard against her temple.

“What's the other part?” he whispered, their bodies swaying with the music, John's front against her back.

“I guess...I was kind of embarrassed, too,” she admitted, felt his arms wrap securely around her waist. “We do have a...weirdly large overlap of friends. I didn't need you hearing about it, too.”

“I hope you didn't think I'd give you a hard time over it, or-”

“No, that's not...I-”

“It's okay,” John murmured against her ear as he reduced the last hints of distance between them to nothing, every part of him that lined up, against her. “And he was an idiot,” he added.

“And what does that say about me?” Nikki managed, John's hands dipping below the edge of the hoodie that swallowed her up, reaching around her from beneath it to place his large hands closer to her skin, venturing no further as he waited.

“It says that you're...kind, and...patient. Maybe not the best judge of character,” he mused, and she let out an audible breath.

“Yeah, that's no secret,” she mumbled, and she felt his bare fingertips brush her midriff when they traveled past the hem of her shirt. “What are you doing?” Besides pushing my boundaries and tempting me into more mistakes-

“Pretending,” he rasped into her ear from behind, and she felt his hands at her waist again, felt him roll his hips when her back arched slightly against him, felt what she hadn't in a few years through the denim of his jeans. Ah, yes. The main reason she'd opted to leave before he'd even seen her face when she'd arrived.

“Well, you're...you're pretty convincing,” she mumbled as she felt his hands splay over the tops of her thighs, arching further against him when he ground against her.

“Nikki?” he rasped as he leaned over her shoulder, his fingers curling at the openings of her cuffed shorts, his blunt nails scratching her skin as he gripped the denim. When she managed a nearly inaudible 'Yes?' in reply, he continued. “Is anybody expecting you, tonight?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, turning her head to the side, glancing back at his shoulder, not venturing to gaze any higher.

“Like...is anyone expecting you to show up to their sofa?” he clarified, and she nodded slightly in understanding.

“I, um...I haven't reached out to anyone yet...I didn't exactly plan on being distracted so long,” she explained, and she felt him nod from behind, his thumbs brushing her thighs.

“If you need a place to stay tonight, you could just...I mean, I've got plenty of room,” he hedged, drawing his fingers back from the edge of her shorts when her body became still. “If you want to...I'd even let you take the bed,” he offered.

“I'm not sure that's such a good idea,” she mumbled, and she felt his arms wrap around her again from beneath the hoodie she'd stolen.

“Can I ask you something else?” he finally spoke up after a short silence. When she nodded, he continued. “I know how this sounds, and I promise it's not me trying to be manipulative, but, um...do you...do you not trust me?”

“I...I don't trust me,” she admitted, and he released her when she began to shift in his embrace, turning toward him to look up to his handsome features. “And, I...I know where all that leads,”

“W-...Where do you think it's gonna lead,” he asked, watching her eyes as she blinked away from him, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Listen, John, I...I'm dealing with enough. I don't need old feelings getting stirred up-”

“Wait,” he spoke up a little louder, and lowered his voice to continue when he noticed a few people watching from across the living room. “Sweetheart, I-”

“Don't...Please, don't,” she plead, glancing around as well.

“Don't what?” John asked, his brows drawn together as he watched the young woman before him, his fingers finding the strings of his hoodie that she still wore, winding them lightly around his fingers.

“Don't call me shit like Sweetheart,” she implored, directing her gaze back to him, trying not to think about his large hands edging toward her face. “I really don't need that right now-”

“So, tell me what you need?” he cut in, his voice tempered but firm, his fingertips brushing along her jawline.

“I...I need to just...I don't know, relax for once. Not think about my ex, or my instability...or who I'm inconveniencing-”

“You are not an inconvenience,” John cut in, nudging her chin up with his thumbs, watched her eyes studiously as he considered her. “I wouldn't...Nikki, I wouldn't expect anything in return, that's...”

“I...I should go,” Nikki finally sputtered out, lifting her hands to the zipper pull, John immediately catching them and stilling her movements.

“Keep it,” he offered, nudging the metal pull back up the few inches she dragged it down. “Just, uh...just wait, okay? Let me walk you out,” he mumbled, stepping away as soon as the words left his mouth, Nikki swiveling to watch him cross the mostly empty room, down a hallway, gone.

If I were smart, I'd just leave, Nikki thought as she glanced around at nothing in particular, waiting. If I had an ounce of self-preservation-

“Hey!” she turned toward his voice when she heard it over her shoulder, found him reaching for her hand, and she allowed herself to be guided out of the dwelling, into the brisk air outside. When they had taken a few steps down the emptied driveway, closer to her car than his, his feet drew to a pause, his hand still grasping hers. “Hey, um...I want you to take my number,” he remarked, carefully grasping her arm and tugging the sleeve of his hoodie up to the elbow, the scars along her inner arm in various stages of healing, ending three or four inches from her wrist. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a permanent marker he'd swiped on his trek back through the house, popping the cap off and scrawling numbers onto her arm. “You don't have to give me yours, but...if you decide you wanna talk, or...put me in your sleepover rotation,” he paused, watching her face as he spoke, grateful at the tiny smile that tugged at her lips. “I'd even keep my hands to myself...if that's what you wanted,” he quipped, and her slight smile spread into a full one.

“Because you did such a swell job of that tonight,” she noted, and he shrugged.

“We were pretending, right?” he pointed out, though their faces both displayed a look that acknowledged that wasn't exactly true.

“Are we still pretending?” she whispered out as she felt him inch closer, wrapping his arms around her waist once more, but keeping his hands as innocently placed as he could.

“No,” he finally admitted as he leaned in, tilting his head to one side, pausing for the briefest moment when he closed in, pressing his lips against hers when she showed no further hesitance. “Nikki?” he whispered when he edged away again.

“I can't-”

“You don't have to-”

“John, I...you really don't remember, do you?” she asked, staring at the screen-printed logo of a mostly forgotten surf brand across his chest. He looked quite lost when she finally glanced up at his face. “Do you remember a party at Scott's, a few years ago? In the summer?”

“I...sorta,” he answered, the memory hazy. How many dozens of parties had he been to since? How much alcohol had he poured down his own throat?

“Okay, do you remember that...that was the last time we saw each other until tonight?” she continued, prodding him toward an answer he wasn't certain of, yet.

“K-...Kinda? I was, uh...I was drinking pretty heavy, then,” he admitted, reaching up to scratch anxiously at his scalp.

“That, you were.” she agreed, and John's anxiety began to form an ache in his stomach as he stared upon her.

“Nikki, what...did I do something to y-”

“It's not...it's not what you're thinking, don't...it was consensual, but, uh...we slept together,” she finally admitted aloud what she had not confessed to anyone else, in all that time. “I was...kinda drunk, and you were really drunk, and, uh...it lasted all of fifteen seconds,” she revealed, letting out an audible breath as she smiled faintly, shaking her head slightly at the memory. “Not much to remember, I guess, but, um...it wasn't exactly my finest moment...or decision,” she continued, rolling her eyes as the recalled that night. “I mean, if anything, I-” Her words ceased in her throat as she felt John's large hands grip her shoulders, pressing his lips against hers once more, probably not for the second time, he realized.

“I'm sorry...I don't remember any of that...I mean, I remember seeing you, and...I think I remember getting laid, but...is that the real reason you've been avoiding me all this time?” he questioned, and she shrugged apathetically. “Fuck...no wonder you don't trust me-”

“John, shut up,” she mumbled, sighing as she lifted a hand to press her fingers to his lips. “I already told you...I trust you. I just don't trust m-” her words were cut off once more as his lips found hers again, but he didn't draw away just as quickly, as he had before.

“Nikki,” he mumbled, his arms winding around her waist, dragging her closer to his body, swaying lightly as he held her, as they had in the house. “I know you think I'm this...perpetual man-child,” John whispered, and his arms tightened so slightly when she let out a wordless sound in response. “And I can't take back whatever happened that night...but I would, if I could, if that would fix...what?”

“You know...saying you'd take back sex with me isn't as flattering as y-”

“I'd go back and fuck you right if I could,” he clarified, and her response dried up in her parched throat. “I'm not gonna lie and say I haven't thought about it...at least a dozen times,” he continued, his embrace unceasing. “I don't like seeing you in pain, especially when I can help...even if it just means giving up my bed for the night.”

“John-”

“Just think about it, okay? Even if it means...you waking me up at four in the morning or something, that's fine. Okay?” he urged, standing straighter when she finally peered back up at him.

“Okay,” she finally whispered, and he nodded, leaning in once more to place a practically chaste kiss against her lips. “Are you staying?” she mumbled as he dropped his forehead to rest lightly against her own.

“No, I'm gonna head home...not much point in staying if you're leaving,” he confirmed.

“Assuming your car even starts,” she murmured, and he smirked, brows quirked.

“Don't even joke about that,” he answered, glancing down to his car, parked before the neighbor's house, along the street. “Maybe you should walk me to my car, instead,” he advised, shifting his eyes back to hers.

CHAPTER 2 HERE!

🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥 🧥

tagging : @gissellec1 , @sashimeep , @callsign-fangirl , @hibiskooks , @jessy02 ,

@charliehoennam , @bleeding-heartz , @gt-rxn , @simplymurdock , @lucy-sky ,

@pinkflowerwombat , @one-of-thewalkingdead , @strangererotica , @the-butchers-baby , @pinastrihaven ,

@amethystblackkchaos

If I forgot anyone, I apologize, and please let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS AND TAGS ARE DEEPLY APPRECIATED.💙

[semisolidmind]

@fattyskeleton

(so the last bad end wukong post was a sort of swap au, i guess? it spawned from a post before it in which mac takes swk's place on the journey protecting the monk, because swk is a bad guy here. like, one of the big bads. like maybe "the buddha wasn't able to catch him at all" kinda bad)

but I really REALLY like your idea here, so

(let's preface with some backstory. summed up, reader and wukong were sorta married? but it was juuuust a little bit against her will? and he kinda forced her to drink an immortality elixir? and macaque, one of wukongs closest friends and a general in his army, becomes closer and befriends reader. wukong isn't cool with that, attacks macaque over it (cool but traumatizing eye scar), mac is determined to get away from wukong and take reader with him. wukong gets even more power, goes crazy, goes up against heaven, gets trapped under a mountain for it.)

reader has (kinda??) gotten used to immortality (not like she had anyone mortal in this world to be sad over), she and macaque have gotten comfortable living together in their little hideaway on a far-off mountain, everything is going okay...there's been no sign of the monkey king since his rampage through heaven. macaque has assured her; he's safely trapped under a sealed mountain, and there's noone dumb enough to remove the seal.

until tripitaka.

the mountain splits in half, the sound echoing across the land. miles away, tending to her garden....

...reader feels a chill down her spine.

(in this timeline guanyin put the golden fillet on wukong immediately cause there's no way this iteration wouldn't try to kill and eat tripitaka on sight. )

so, sometime later, the pilgrims arrive. macaque is stunned, how did he NOT hear them coming? how did he not know?! now his greatest enemy is free and, and– actively helping the tang monk? wukong seems calmer than he remembers, but it's obvious how much he's straining against the leash the monk has him on. the deadly aura radiating off the monkey king is enough to make macaque nauseous. he not-so-subtley places himself in front of reader when he greets the pilgrims. but...it's too late to hide her. if the small intake of breath he draws is any indication, wukong has already noticed her presence.

reader freezes when their eyes meet. no, no, he was supposed to be trapped, he wasn't ever supposed to get out! she sees his pupils dilate, his smile stretch to expose his fangs.

"Peach! Its so good to see you again. I was worried the elixir hadn't worked, but here you are! Beautiful as ever." he gently laughs. he waves off any questions from the other pilgrims. when they ask who reader is to him...his answer is an amused laugh and a sickeningly fond look in her direction.

macaque and reader play the part of good hosts, but they're both incredibly nervous the entire time the pilgrims are in their home. the atmosphere is tense, and macaque doesn't leave readers' side for a second longer than he has to. dinner is a stiff, polite affair, and wukong never takes his eyes off reader. macaque insists the monk and his disciples take his room while he stays with reader. but that doesn't stop the feeling of being watched, or the murderous aura radiating from the opposite side of the house.

neither of them sleep well that night.

the next morning, the monk has macaque help him gather provisions before they move on, distracting him just long enough for wukong to corner reader. he presses her against the side of her home, nuzzling his face against her cheek...

"I'll be back as soon as this little trip is complete, ok, peach? Just sit tight and wait for your king to return~♡"

macaque and reader pack up and move the next day.

—

[crackedegotheories]

when there's smth strange in the new mark vid who you gonna call?

crackedegotheories!!!

(got thrown into a swirling rift in what I can only guess is the fabric of reality and told I needed to find an ax to help someone talking in blue lettered text)

You rang? (Side note, YouTube lost its notifications privileges with me, so I saw this message before I saw Mark's new video. It's probably the only reason I had enough time to type this post up before I head off to the airport, so thank you!)

Okay, to recap: We have a really weird drive by bee attack. No relation to the lore or anything, just bizarre. RIP, bee, you went out stinging. Then we have Mark talking about his love of being dropped into horrors beyond his imagining (not a masochist) and deep lore, before asking Lixian to show us something very deep--"throw them in the hole!"

Lixian says to the viewer, "I guess it's your turn to go into the hole" (my emphasis, we'll get back to that), before we go into a pink, flaming hole. It's tempting to draw the comparison to the wormhole from ISWM, but what's interesting is the color--the only time we see a pink wormhole in Space is when Wilford calls us a ride after ours, uh, was "mysteriously" stabbed.

Inside the hole, there are swirling clouds and flashes of blue lightning. Near the end, there's a break in the clouds that actually kind of looks like a side path to the left, but unlike In Space, we don't have an option of left or right here, we just plummet through the main hole to be met with darkness, and blue text.

"Help me", "Please, help me", and "Only you can find the axe."

Someone is asking for help, someone who claims that only the viewer can find the axe. So, let's talk about the axe, shall we?

First, we start with my boy, Damien:

In DAMIEN, the very first thing we see is Damien himself, chopping down a tree with an axe. This is apparently a daily thing for him, and he chops down a LOT of trees, but in the climax of the video when finally confronting Actor Mark, Damien doesn't have his axe. Instead, Celine arrives, using the axe to break through to Damien and, uh, giving it to Actor Mark to hold for a second.

Chronologically, the next time the axe is picked up is at the end of the fan game for Damien made by Lixian, just for Mark. At about the 48 minute mark, Damien/Dark sets his axe down as he's greeted by Wilford, which is then picked up by Lixian himself.

Lixian is scratched up, presumably from his fight with Lunky in 3 Scary Games #61 which has Lixian attempt to cage Lunky only for Lunky to break out.

It's in the following, unnumbered 3 Scary Games that we first see Lixian wield the axe, to split Lunky in half. (Brutal!)

He would then go on to use the axe in 3 Scary Games #64 and 65 to kill the horror abominations of Mark featured in those videos, and attempts to use it again in #66 only for it to bounce off.

Lixian tries to attack, and gets captured for his efforts, and we next see him in #75, waking up outside of the mysterious Plier Corporation and realizing he doesn't have his axe.

Since then, as far as I can tell in what time I have left to type this, the axe hasn't shown up again. It's missing, and someone needs our help finding it, but who and why?

Part of the explanation may lie with what the monster in #66 says at the beginning of the video: "The end is nigh. He has opened the door. The great Eldritch Plier is coming. Your end is here."

We get a hint at who this "Eldritch Plier" might be in 3 Scary Games #69, which begins with a man standing outside of a pink (!) portal, through which pops out Spider!Mark (one of the same creatures Lixian killed when he had the axe).

This man resurrects Lunky, its two halves barely clinging together, and the next time we see it is with Mark, who admits he doesn't actually remember making Lunky.

Lunky's most recent reappearance is in 3 Scary Games #103, where now whole again he uses the viewer as a sacrifice in his ritual to go back and seek vengeance, presumably against Lixian.

So the safe bet is that it's Lixian asking us to help find the axe so he can take on Lunky, right?

Except...why would he send us through a portal to tell us that? And why would he think we would be the only ones who could find it?

It would make more sense if someone else, someone who is well aware of the workings of the channel and the viewers' place in it, someone who may know of this Eldritch Plier and the danger he poses and shares his ability to summon portals, to do so.

Someone like one Wilford Motherloving Warfstache.

Or, y'know, Dark. He might also be involved.

[bubble-popping]

day 24 and my friend sent me smth that was so drunznoblade coded I had to write smth for it

based off this but this is just the first part :)

It was all really fuzzy for Punz, especially when his head was pounding as bad as it was. Just trying to think back on what happened caused another wave of head-splitting pain. They definitely drank way too much last night...

God, he needed a tylenol. Some food would be nice too. A breakfast burrito sounded so good right about now. Was taco bell still serving breakfast? Actually, what time was it anyway?

Punz had to squint when he looked at his phone, the only way he was able to stand the glare of the screen. However, before they could even think about looking up taco bell's menu times, they noticed they had a full notification bar. After clicking and scrolling a bit, just seeing the typical posts and messages from his friends saying how awesome last night was, he got to one from a group chat.

They didn't recognize either of the profiles, and the only message was from one of them.

"Did you make it home safe, baby? Heart emoji?" He mumbled to himself, a tone of awe in his morning voice.

'who is this??' He wrote back. Clicking on the profiles brought him to one account that was totally private with a blank image while the other was filled with pictures of a fluffy haired blonde posing next to friends, family, and food. Now they were really hungry...

He got a response sooner than he anticipated.

'u forgot abt us already? :('

'we made out like half the night man'

Punz had to read that twice just to make sure he wasn't seeing things. Half the night? They must've been wasted to not only agree to that but then not remember it at all.

"Sapnap," he hissed at his roommate, knocking on the wood of their bunk bed in an attempt to wake up the younger man.

His answer was a long groan, which when translated meant 'leave me the fuck alone.'

"Dude, wake up!" They pressed, tossing a pillow up onto Sapnap's bed. It was promptly thrown right back at their face.

"What? Tryna sleep off this fuckin' hangover, dude..." Sapnap leaned over the edge to glare at them, bedhead even messier than usual.

"What happened at the party last night?"

"What are you talkin' about?"

"Did I make out with someone?"

Sapnap appeared just as confused as him until realization slowly dawned on his face, then he was laughing. "Oh, dude. Yeah, that shit was wild. I got some other friends to come and you guys were going at it."

Punz visibly recoiled, cheeks red and brow furrowed. "Are you serious? Wha-how? Why??"

"How the hell would I know? I think we were playing like spin the bottle? Or something? You got Dream and then went back for seconds, I guess. Oh and Techno, you were all over Techno, bro."

"Who?"

Before he could respond, Punz's phone buzzed again. They looked down to see more messages.

'so r we still gonna meet 2day'

'or did you forget that too?'

"They wanna meet with me." Punz glanced up for Sapnap's reaction only to find the younger man had, presumably, returned to his pillow. "Sapnap!"

"What?!" He leaned back over, frowning. "I told you I'm tryna sleep!"

"Should I meet them? They're still like, total strangers, bro."

"Yeah, strangers, but you were sticking your tongue down their throats." Sapnap rolled his eyes while Punz turned an impossible shade of red and made and affronted noise. "If it gets your ass outta the dorm for once, then go." With that, he once again plopped down, and this time Punz thought it best to let him be.

Blunt as he put it, he was right on some level. These Dream and Techno people clearly cared about them, at least enough to want to meet again.

At worst, he'd be able to ask questions and fill in the blanks of what happened last night.

[atwhughesversion]

hello :) if you have more fil lore to share i would love to hear it 🫶

oh my god yes i do!! buckle in bc i love this czech man and his gorgeous beard and this post got a little long.

first, here is fil being smiley with his former teammate fil (fun fact: filip zadina is who the red wings picked instead of quinn hughes in the draft, allowing the canucks to get quinn.):

source

second, while i can only add one video, here is a link to one minute of fil and his dog (the photos below are from this vid)

fun facts about hronek:

idk if you’ve seen the clip but during one of the last games of the season, when the canucks were beating the flames 3-0, the hot mic picked up on fil shouting “you have holidays in two days” to the flames bench

he scored a goal off of a 107.9mph shot last season which is insane and i need him to do it again

quinn literally loves him:

“I thought we were going to be a very good tandem, but we’ve been way better than I could’ve pictured us being. He’s helped me so much.” [source]

“(I) probably haven’t played with a player as good as him. He’s really skilled, can move the puck, can see things, can defend, can skate…they wanted to maybe split us up but I’m happy we’re together.” [source]

“Maybe he’s not comfortable around the media, which is fine. But around us, he’s like one of my favourite teammates ever. He’s not quiet, but he’s not loud. He wants to work with me and I want to work with him.” [source]

fil vs the media:

literally gonna be a rivalry for the ages now that he’s signed a long-term deal w us and i kinda can’t wait.

backstory: hronek is quite reserved and isn’t super comfortable in front of the media, as is his right. at his exit interview this season, jeff paterson got into it with him because fil denied that he had an injury and jeff wanted him to say that he did on the record lmao. this conversation starts at around 2:25 of this video:

hronek: i mean, you named it. like, first half of the year i was producing, second half i was not.

paterson: and why was that?

hronek, my sassy king: um, why? if i know the answer, i probably would do something different.

paterson: were you playing through an injury?

hronek: ?? no

paterson, about to make his way onto my bad side: like, we gave you your space all year; we’re just trying to ask a few questions at this stage

hronek: well what do you want me to say?

paterson: i just, i was curious about where the production-

hronek: what do you want me to say on—like, on the injury, if i didn’t have injury, what do you want me to say? i said no.

[cue awkward silence until a different reporter starts talking to soucy]

now, fast forward a little while: he still hadn’t re-signed, and vancouver media was doing vancouver media things (speculating about how he probably hates it here and there’s no way he can be a canuck if he doesn’t like doing media and he probably wants to go to a more lowkey city etc etc.) when, low and behold, he signed an 8-year contract extension. One of his quotes?

"I guess I'm going to have to do more media for 8 more years. It's going to be fun." [source]

him and jeff paterson are gonna be bffs by like november 2027.

also, filip on vancouver as a market/canucks fans:

“I like it. It’s nice when people like it and they enjoy the hockey and they’re supporting us, so, it’s a lot of fun.” [source]

some fil pics:

baby fil:

[the-sky-queen]

Avatar the Last Airbender theories I had that turned out to be false

So unlike literally everyone else, I didn't grow up with ATLA and discovered it sometime when I was in high school. Can't remember exactly when. Because of this, I created a few theories as I was watching for the first time, trying to predict where the show would go. All of these ended up being completely wrong, but they're fun, so I thought I'd share them!

Zhao becomes the Firelord

Sooooo funny story with this one. I actually had two exposures to ATLA before I actually watched it and one of them was THE SERIES FINALE. I didn't see the whole thing, but I did catch a huge chunk of the ending. So before I even started watching officially, I knew Zuko was gonna be a good guy, which is why I never gave up on him. XD This also means that I got to see Ozai's FACE.

Ozai doesn't show his face in book 1, and by the time I started watching, I'd forgotten what Ozai's voice sounded like. I also had very little idea of who I'd seen Aang fighting in the finale was in the first place. So I kinda took one look at Zhao and said "YES. HIM." The theory went like this:

Zhao slowly climbs the ranks of the Fire Nation over the course of the series, growing more and more power hungry as time goes on. Eventually, he gets to the point where he overthrows/assassinates Ozai and becomes the new Firelord. Aang has to fight him in the finale and Zuko has to take the throne that's rightfully his back.

Imagine my disappointment when Zhao got eaten in the book 1 finale. XD I was so convinced of this theory that I didn't even believe he was really gone for a looong time after this.

2. Zuko is a Double-Bender

Remember the Blue Spirit episode? Of course you do. Well, there's this split second clip as Zuko's rescuing Aang where he picks up a bucket of water and splashes it on a guard or something. I completely missed the bucket on my first watch of this episode and concluded that whoever this Blue Spirit guy was, he was a Water Bender. I then proceeded to get my mind absolutely BLOWN when I realized the Blue Spirit was actually Zuko. I started going crazy with theories that Zuko was secretly a Fire Bender AND a Water Bender. Hence, a Double-Bender. I asked a friend about this theory of mind and she sadly debunked it for me. However, this is still my favorite ATLA theory to this day and I have an entire AU centered around it. One day I'll get around to actually writing it.

3. Jet is a major recurring character

So the other time that I got ATLA spoilers before watching it was when I accidentally half-watched most of Jet's introductory episode. The friend I was with at the time groaned in annoyance at Jet, leading me to believe that he showed up A LOT and he was the worst thing this show had to offer. I fully expected Jet to pop up ALL THE TIME and make a nuisance of himself. I was relieved to discover he doesn't come in nearly as much as I thought he would.

4. Ba Sing Se stuff

Rapid fire round! I thought a lot of things about everything that happened in Ba Sing Se:

Team Avatar all get brainwashed by the Dai Lee except for like Sokka or someone, who then becomes wanted by the entire brainwashed city and has to figure out how to reverse all this.

Zuko happily lives out the rest of his days with Uncle Iroh at the tea shop and never runs into Team Avatar again.

5. Azula alone

Team Avatar frees the entire city of the brainwashing. Specifically Joo Dee.

Yeah, I thought all of Ba Sing Se was brainwashed, not just some people.

I was 100% convinced that Mai and Ty Lee were going to betray Azula at some point during book 2 and then join Team Avatar. I guess this kinda happened? Kinda?

Aaaaand this is all I can think of for now. I'll make another post if I think of more theories I had, but this is about it. :)

[theoldworldsrunnerup]

(HI I hope this post makes sense it’s almost four am and I’m tired)

Okay so I’ve been thinking about this post (I’m too lazy to summarise it, please go look at it yourself for context) since I first reblogged it and, more specifically, why exactly it translated to “romantic”, because??? Surely it didn’t actually say that (I assumed it was maybe a word that could mean romantic but had differing definitions depending on the context or something like that) (also I had already heard that it said “beautiful” instead of “cute” so I’m not focusing on that).

So, despite the fact that I do not understand Japanese whatsoever, I decided I needed to figure out where exactly in the sentence “romantic” comes from, because it was going to bother me for ages if I didn’t.

After searching for a VERY long time, I managed to find this image of the untranslated Japanese version (which I only found because I remembered where to look lmao).

At first, out of curiosity, I stuck the text into google translate myself to see if it would say anything different, but it was pretty much the same result. I actually tried several other online translators, but again, they all said the same thing (in various levels of coherency).

Now, while google translate can be unreliable, I figured I could use it to get the gist of individual words, and, in particular, figure out what exactly here translated into romantic.

Something I noticed was that “romansu” by itself translated into romance, but, since the romanised version had “romansugurē“ written as one word, I put all of it in and ended up with this.

So, from this, I had figured out where “romantic” had come from. But at this point, I was more interested as to why “romance” and “grey” were one word here, so I looked it up.

The term romansugurē is, unsurprisingly, derived from the words romance and grey. It’s usually used to describe the grey hair of a middle aged man, but its connotation can kind of differ. From what I understand, it can be a somewhat neutral descriptor (a lot of the results from my search defined it as “silver-grey hair”), but it can also be, as this introduction to linguistic anthropology I accidentally stumbled across puts it:

In this context, I guess it’s kind of similar to terms like silver fox.

I went scrolling through twitter for about half an hour to see how people actually used it, and if either connotation was more commonly used than the other, but it seemed pretty evenly split (although it seems like it’s usually used in a more positive context, it isn’t necessarily always used in the context of sexual attraction, if that makes sense???).

So, in conclusion: it DOES actually say “beautiful romantic grey hair”, which I did not expect, and, taking into account the second connotation, may or may not be somehow gayer than the official English translation.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk. If anyone who actually knows what they’re talking about wants to add anything to this/correct me on something, please do (but please be nice about it :( I’m trying my best here).

[verilly]

REL:LY / Magic Words / LSG ✶

Aqua Hoshino x Reader

This is PART THREE, check out other parts in the link below!

REQUIEM: Sixth New Genesis!

What's to come: [Reader likes both genders], [Aqua x Reader], [Akane x Reader]

[Songs of the chapter: "MANNEQUIN" by Deco*27, "Parasol Cider" by Nanahoshi Orchestra, "Nonsense Bungaku" by Eve]

[7,531 words]

It's been a few days since the video was posted. Multiple news websites were talking about it, people online were harassing others about it, even people in real life were talking about it. Even though Akane doesn't want to be the face of the news so soon, it's shining a better light on her. She is a victim of the internet and she'll never have that innocence back, but she's a lot better now.

Akane has been showing up on set more often now, you cling onto her like there's no tomorrow when she stays. Honestly, when she first came back, you swear you could feel your eyes watering, but that isn't important. What is: is that Aqua gave Akane an important suggestion. "Try acting, be someone who you aren't to protect yourself. Separate this show from your real self." It really wasn't something you agreed with, but if it would keep Akane happy and safe, you'd be okay with it.

"It's really all your choice, Akane." You perked up, leaning against Akane's shoulder glaring at Aqua, "Don't think about the audience when you make this decision. I know they're important or whatever, but you are too!"

"I think it's a pretty good idea and I am good at acting, but... what— who should I act as?" Akane asked, tilting her head to the side you were opposite to. Aqua stared out, not giving her a response. "Ahem. [name], what do you think?" Akane shifted her head to face you as you stopped leaning on her shoulder, before you could respond, Akane kept going. "What's your type?"

Your face turned red as your eyes widened under your mask. All eyes were on you, including the people filming. You choke on your words before letting them slip, "M-My ty-t... type..?" You bit your lip, did you even have a type? The only person you've ever fallen for was... Hanae. You caught yourself before you accidentally said her name. Roaming around your mind, you realized how similar Akane and Hanae really were. What differences did they even really have? Hanae was more conservative and less obsessive, then again, people had more of a life outside social media, didn't they? You shake your head after another minute of pondering, "This isn't helpful at all but... *I think you being yourself in all of your 'Akane-ness' is my type."

"You're lying..." Akane blushed, jolting her head to look at the floor, "How could you say that? Even after all I've put you through..— Hm! N-Nevermind..!" Akane took a deep breath in and put her arm around your shoulder, "A-Aqua! What about you? You did save me too after all, I think I can do this for you. As a thanks." You stared at Aqua, is Akane just going to ignore your super-extra-cute confession? You pout under your mask and lean closer into her. Aqua better have a good answer. "So... What's your type, Aqua?"

"Hm..? You're really serious with that question?" Aqua looked a little shocked, he sighed and looked out the window, "I never really thought of that, I guess." He rested his cheek to the palm of his hand and started thinking. "My type... I guess my type is someone who's pretty."

"Go to hell!" You mutter half jokingly.

"Keep going Aqua!" Akane said, pulling out her notepad and pen. Staring at him with her pretty blue eyes.

"Someone who can smile as bright as the sun, and performs without a fault. Assertive behavior and speech... Captivating eyes that can draw you in with one glance..."

"You're telling me you've never thought of your type before? Hah, what a stupid lie." You half-heartedly joke as you shake your head back and forth, "Come to think of it, a pretty girl who works hard... kind of sounds like Ai from B-Komachi, doesn't it?" Aqua's eyes widened for a split second before calming down quickly, his lips forming words, but you couldn't hear it at all.

"Ai? I've heard of her... I'll research her the best I can: I'll be your girl, Aqua!" Akane said with glee, writing down the name in her notepad while putting it back down on the table next to her. She turned back to you and smiled, "And what you said [name]... I.. Mm, thank you."

You leaned onto her shoulder as Aqua stared at the two of you. His eyes were dark. Did no one else notice that at all?

˚⋆୨ ✶ ୧⋆˚

You were back on set today, another week passed by without any progress on finding Hanae. You were inside a classroom, the sun was bright, Aqua sat directly next to you. Couldn't he have found another chair? You'd been sitting next to him the entire school week, your head plopped down into your arms as time passed by slower than usual.

Aqua didn't say anything when he sat next to you, the camera's were on, glaring onto your face. Still, you didn't feel the urge to act or put on a show. This was just life, for you at least.

...

When's Akane getting here?

Just as you thought that, footsteps could be heard from behind the doorway. You got excited, getting back up and impatiently staring in anticipation for Akane to enter.

It was just Mem and Yuki. Ah, well that's fine. Maybe you should go hang out with them? Before you could get up from your seat, the two girls had already come over. Not to you specifically, but towards your general direction. Their real target was Aqua.

"How's it going, Aqu-tan?" Memcho slyly asks, sitting on the desk in front of him, "I overheard that... you have a type??!"

"Yah, and I heard it was pretty basic too! All you care about is looks, am I right? All boys are the same! It's about time you morph into a man!" Yuki says, bursting out laughing after.

"Who told you that?" Aqua asks, deadpanned, he doesn't seem mad or concerned.

"How silly of you, Aqu-tan! I said we overheard!" Mem laughed, you forgot you told her about the 'conversation' you and Akane had with him. "I also heard that Akane was acting for you? That's so totally weird! Why would you do that to that poor girl?"

"Yeah Aqua! You totally suck! All you care about is looks!!" Yuki adds in, you nod your head to their conversation... When is Akane going to come back?

Begrudgingly you continue to watch everything unfold before you as you lean on your arm. All you could think about was Akane.

...When did the two of you get so close?

That's when the door slid open again: It was Akane!

The door was wide open, she didn't enter though. She patiently waited for the cameras to pan to her. Akane I bailed deeply before closing her eyes, when her eyes opened back up she was a completely different person. Her 'aura' changed.

She reminded you exactly of Ai.

You guessed that Aqua noticed too because he was just as shocked as you were, maybe even more. Akane's eyes were different, they looked just like Ai's too— no, they looked just like yours. Just a different color. Was this seriously all just acting? How could someone just change their entire vibe like that?

"What's wrong you all?" Akane asked, looking at everyone present, "It's almost like you've seen a ghost!"

"A-Akane? Is that really you?" Yuki asks, understandably a bit taken back, "You seem so... different...?"

"Do you dislike this part of me, Yuki?" Akane asked, tilting her head to the left. Yuki shook her head while she waddled back towards the two boys who just walked in. "So, how about we hang out all on our own today, Aqua?"

You felt a pang of sadness when Akane said that. Why Aqua? Why not you? You don't blame her though, Aqua is quite handsome, isn't he?

You shove your head back into your arms as the room fell silent. Aqua and Akane left the room together with a group of camera people following them. Was all your hard work for nothing? Did Akane not like you? Did she really like Aqua more than you? Aqua is just so... off putting. But she's never been under his stares for days on end has she?

Aqua totally likes her now, doesn't he?

Why does that make you a little sad?

˚⋆୨ ✶ ୧⋆˚

For the next few days of shooting, Aqua was all over Akane. Though, you weren't out of it the entire time. You and Akane still had moments together, and it was really enjoyable. It felt really familiar, but you couldn't really put your finger on it.

Then it came to the last day on set. Everyone knew that the last episode was all about the cast members confessing to each other. You didn't plan on doing anything, there was an uneven amount so it was bound to happen, a fail on the casting director honestly, but you aren't going to complain. You'd rather not have manic fans asking about your love life while streaming, and if you were going to confess to anyone: It'd be Akane, and she's currently preoccupied with Aqua.

The sky turned dark and the sun started to set, you sat down on a bench as the crew started to gather around. The contestants lined themselves up and discreetly discussed with each other on who picks who. It's usually the boys going for the ladies, isn't it? You could guess who would go with who.

"Alright, is everyone set?" The director asks, casting a glance towards the people working with the lights and cameras.

"Yes sir!" The higher up yelled back.

"Action!"

The air seemed tense, somehow. No one was up to the challenge of going first. You kept to yourself, watching through your mask. Was it figurative or real because it was getting a little harder to breathe as each minute went past.

Noboyuki bit the bullet and went over to Yuki. He got on his knee and poured out his feelings to her, it was honestly kind of cute. She said no though. You didn't actually understand it at all, Yuki said she liked him, so why'd she reject him?

Then it was Kenji, who knew he'd go next— not like there were a lot of options, but still. He went up to Memcho of all people, didn't expect that either. They were so different, so it was kind of a shock to no one when Mem rejected him.

Lastly, it was Aqua's turn. He was standing between you and Akane, his eyes glanced towards you for a split second before he slowly walked towards Akane. She was sitting underneath a tree on one of the other benches, his hand traveled up to her face and brushed a lock of her blue hair out of the way.

Their faces drew closer and closer together, lips barely an inch apart.

Aqua's eyes shut and Akane brought her hand up.

Right before their lips connected, Akane brought a hand up between the two of them.

"I'm sorry, Aqua. I just can't do... that." Her eyes didn't have stars in them, "We can still be boy-girl friends, my heart just... it's for someone else."

She quickly got up from her seat. Everyone seemed shocked, you and Aqua were no exception. What was she up to? Akane excused herself and bowed as an apology to Aqua, and also probably the camera, and marched towards you.

"[name]! Will you accept my confession of love?" Akane shouted out, her face was red and her hands were on her thighs.

"H-Huh? What?? Why me?- I mean I would love to and everything but I seriously don't uhm!!" You stutter, your face turned red. Everything was a blur in that moment, you don't really remember too well as to what happened but, Akane slipped your mask away and kissed you underneath it. Her eyes were shut with passion while your eyes were wide open, stars gleaming. You didn't stop it, a kiss takes two people after all.

You were definitely flustered, your eyes wandered to the people in the crowd watching the two of you. Aqua looked shocked, his mouth was wide open, a real sight to behold. The rest of the crew looked almost exactly as surprised as Aqua, was it really that bad?

Or in other words: Would it give this season of Lovenow higher ratings than the rest?

-End of Re_Love:Love_You

Lovenow was a hit with everyone, there weren't as many controversies surrounding you and Akane that you thought they'd be. Which is a good thing, but mildly strange. The two of you decided to make your relationship private, mostly for your sake, not stating whether the two of you were dating or not. On the inside though, Akane decided to stick to just being friends— Just kidding! The two of you are full on dating!

Just kissing again... it was more of a situationship.

On the other hand, a few days after Lovenow ended, it was released to the public that Akane and Aqua were dating! Which made you... jealous. Though honestly you couldn't really place why.

To your dismay, they didn't air the episode of you and Akane sharing a kiss. Instead, they begged Akane and Aqua to re-record the part and act like they were in love. The two agreed reluctantly while you threw a tantrum in your head.

...

Fuck.

You bite your lip as you throw your head onto your pillow, why was Akane so important to you? Not that it matters right now, you have a party to get to. What would look good on you?

It was the Lovenow after-celebration, not something you've ever been to before. You asked Aqua about it since he had one for a past drama he was in, apparently this one is supposed to be less fancy. Just a casual hangout with the cast, an unofficial party! How cute!

You tossed something on and went to meet your friends at the barbeque place you went to last time. It was the same old, same old, even the seating. You were squished in between both Akane and Aqua, even though the two of them were dating. It was awkward to say the least.

"So I heard that Akane and Aqua were dating!" Memcho stated, poking at the freshly cooked meat in front of her, "What made you change your mind, Akane? I thought that you and [alias] really had something special!"

"Huh? Oh! We do! We do, just for [alias]'s sake. They told me that their fans would freak out or something... and that it was for my safety? I don't really understand it all, but if [alias] wants it then I thought I'd do that."

"Oh I see... then what about you Aqua? What did you think?" Memcho asked, turning to look at him.

"I think that it's fine, me and Akane only started dating because so many people were betting on it on social media."

"Ah, so you're no fun. I see." Mem sighed, collecting some bell peppers from the plate in between her and Yuki, "Then what about you, [alias]?"

"...Akane can choose for herself, that's what I think." You were deadpan with your answer, you didn't want to come off as rude though. Is it too late for that? "☆Oh! But seriously, it's all for Akane's safety that we don't get together. As an internet celebrity, I expected you to understand." You said jokingly.

"Ahh! I do! I do! I'm professional in every aspect- not that I'd expect you to understand either! I am your senior after all, aha!" Memcho defensively shouted, laughing with you.

Kenji and *the other guy entered the room with a few more drinks, this hangout session was a lot less fun than the one you all had last time, for you at least. How could you change that though?

The night was coming to an end, everyone said their goodbyes and you tried your best to cling onto Akane as best as you could. She didn't seem any distant than she was in the beginning, but it still felt as if there was a barrier between the two of you. This is Aqua's fault. You groaned as thoughts wandered in and out of your head, you were surrounded by the two blonde's. You never knew Mem lived in your direction.

The walk was really peaceful, you didn't expect that much from Mem. However, the person to break the peace was Aqua.

"Memcho, what's your dream?" Aqua asked, his head poked out from your side to look at the girl beside you.

"My dream? My dream is to be somewhere, be someone. It was really fun being on stage with all you real celebrities. It was almost like being on a stage." Memcho sighed, she twirled her finger in her blonde locks. "I saw how you reacted when Akane acted like Ai, she really captivated you huh? I really miss that about her..."

"You know about B-Komachi?" Aqua asked

"How could people not know about B-Komachi?" You laugh as you put your arms on the back of your head, "Especially after the tragedy, it's a lesson well learned. Ai didn't deserve that at all, she was going to make it to the top of the world."

"Exactly, right? After that I couldn't believe what horrendous thoughts I had! Even after what happened and what was yet to come, I still wanted to become an idol." Mem looked at the ground before rising up with a smile, "That's all behind me now, I believe in myself, and I'm sure that I'm someone's idol— at least, I'm sure there are hundreds of people looking up to me."

"The two of you really like B-Komachi?" Aqua asked, putting a hand to his chin, "What about you [alias]? Have you ever thought about being an idol?"

"An idol?" You thought about your second life, you weren't even an idol yet. And in this life, you already had a plan set for yourself. You didn't need to go down that path, but you never were an idol before.. What are you even on about? "Oh? I guess I have, but who hasn't in this day and age?"

"Then what would you think about joining the second coming of B-Komachi? Strawberry Productions is trying out the whole idol thing again." Aqua said, putting on a soft smile. It looked weird. "We're friends, aren't we? I think that I know you two well enough to trust that you'll be great idols and won't tarnish the name of Ai." He's acting so strange.

"What?! Oh em gee! It would be an honor!!" Mem agreed happily, "Though, I would need to speak with someone who actually knows what they're doing, make sure it isn't too shady."

"Yeah, if the contract is okay I'll think about it."

"Right, you've been to my home before. Just follow me."

˚⋆୨ ✶ ୧⋆˚

You've been in Aqua's home before, but never this up close. You got to see his mother and sister again, they're really cute. Another thing to add was that his 'house' is a lot larger than yours. What was the word for it? It was a studio apartment while yours was a small crummy apartment your mom left you when she moved back to her home country. You really never realized how big it was.

"Ah, so you've brought another one for me. You're really good at this whole recruiting thing, aren't you?" The pink haired woman grumbled, "How'd you manage to snag this one? A YouTuber and full-time influencer?" She shifted her gaze to look at you, "And a faceless internet celebrity and singer. I'm surprised that either of you were interested in becoming idols."

"It was a dream of mine ever since I was a child, ma'am." A drop of sweat rolled off of Mem's face as she spoke to the director.

"Well the two of you are independent streamers so there aren't any managers I need to talk to?"

"I am independent in it of itself, but I do have a team working for me in the background surrounding legal advice and finances, so I believe that I would have to check in with them before I make any hasty decisions." You say, gripping at your lower forearm, you really didn't want to experience another death so soon. You haven't met Hanae yet... and everything regarding the industry is much more safe, isn't it? So no falling lights.

"Once you get a concrete answer, there won't be any problem regarding Internet personalities, we at Strawberry Productions work with them on a daily basis, but you Memcho. You look like you have something to say."

Memcho was lying about her age. By 7 whole years. You tried your best to suppress a few giggles to slip out from your mouth, but then she poured her heart out about what inspired her, made her keep pushing, and what blocked her from getting any farther. At that point, you felt bad for almost laughing.

"So by the time I was financially stable, I was already over the prime age from any idol to debut..." Mem sighed as she looked down at the ground, fiddling with her fingers. Before anyone else could and then Aqua's sister barged into the room.

"No one is too old to be an idol!" She shouted, jumping on top of Mem with a hug, "Every age is idol age, that's what Ai would say!! Are you really going to join me in B-Komachi?!!" She looked over to you and smiled as bright as the sun, "And you! The one that Aqua totally def-likes-because-why-else-would-he-invite-someone-as-cool-as-you to our house, are you going to join us too!?"

"I'm thinking about it, but I'm sure that you'd all do well without me!" You say, ignoring the parts that she said too quickly for you to understand.

"But you're just so talented!! You can sing so well and you'd be such an amazing addition to B-Komachi!" She shouted out, "Oh! My name is Ruby Hoshino, please remember my name even though you are so ultra-amazingly-famous-celebrity!"

"Th-Thank you, ☆I'm sure you'll be a great idol...!" You feel awkward saying that, did you even really mean it? Probably.

They talked more about it for a few minutes, but it came to an end. You texted your team about joining B-Komachi and they texted back in a meer seconds, it would affect your stream schedule greatly, but you'd still be able to live off of it for a while. You had enough money to sustain yourself and maybe one more person for at least a few years. It was really all up to you, did you want to try to become an idol again?

That was all you could think about, you tried to get sleep but the scene of getting crushed played over and over again. You even searched for any new articles about it, but not a lot showed up. At least, not on the internet. It was over 40 years ago, wasn't it?

God you sound old.

It's a lot safer now, so you wouldn't die from being an idol. With another bonus of being a part of the famed B-Komachi! That would most definitely get Hanae's attention, wouldn't it? It'd help you find her— or maybe Hanae will find you? You'd have to tell Aqua tomorrow at school. Yes.

Anything for Hanae.

˚⋆୨ ✶ ୧⋆˚

The sun rises and so do you, thinking about being an idol made you feel tense all of a sudden. Ruby goes to the same school as you, so it shouldn't be hard to tell her you accept her invitation, right? You could always just ask Aqua. You continue on with your daily routine as you shrug, your uniform looks as plain as it did the day before. Maybe you should add something on to it?

Eruru calls you over and Matsuyo over to her table and yaps on and on about how her weekend was. Being a loved daughter of an amusement park owner would be fun, wouldn't it? She shoves you and Matsuyo in her arms and suggests that you three should go out for fun, you agree with her. Matsuyo hisses at her touch, but doesn't move further.

"Ohh! Let's all take a photo together, it would look really cute for my Instagram!" Eruru says, pulling out her candy colored phone, "Say 'Cheese'!~♡' or how about 'Happy Third Month of School!!' That looks so so cyuute!~ Ah you guys are the best!"

"How does she have this much energy...?" Matsuyo grumbles, taking out his own phone, "But going to the park with the two of you doesn't sound that bad."

"It sounds amazing!☆ We could go on so many of those roller coasters until we vomit our guts out together!⭑" You say clinging onto his back, shaking him back and forth. You felt embarrassed, but he didn't flinch.

"Not you too" He complains, "But that sounds good too, maybe not the vomiting."

"Alright!! What about this Saturday? Or Sunday?" Eruru chimes in, "I posted it and it already has a few likes! We are totally going to be super duper famous!"

"Saturday is fine, we have to study on Sunday though. We have a test, remember?"

"Arghh!! No tests! Those are so boring." She whines.

Aqua walks into the classroom and sees you leaning on Matsuyo, he seems a little disappointed. You brush it off and roughhouse with your newly made friends. Though he was back at it again, staring at you from a distance. It didn't creep you out as much as it did before you officially got to know.

˚⋆୨ ✶ ୧⋆

"Aqua, take me to your sister."

He couldn't take your nerves sometimes, yet he found himself agreeing anyway, as you now walked next to him, hands on your hips. The way to the courtyard felt neither fast-paced or slow, you didn't say anything as you two made it to the destination of where Ruby Hoshino sat.

Neither of you noticed the red haired girl lurking close by.

When Ruby's magenta eyes spotted the two of you, she perked up expectantly.It was as if gears turned in her head until her face lit up and she proudly exclaimed "Oh, Aqua! Are you showing me your first friend?"

Aqua only looked at her with a deadpan expression, but you felt the need to squint your eyes together, the female twins' energy being way too bright. It was somehow higher than Eruru.

"Your sister is too bright, can you tell her that for me?",you stood behind Aqua, only daring to look at the personified sun over his shoulder. He ignored your comment though and gave a court 'No' to his sister, who immediately had the gears turning in her head, again until...

"Ah! Is she your girlfriend?"

Your jaw dropped to the floor. There was a shocked aura coming from one of the bushes nearby, as well as the sound of someone falling back a little, yet nobody bothered to notice. As your eyes went wide, Ruby continued on a rant, completely unbothered though, as she made fun of her brother.

"I can't believe you tried to get with that Akane girl, because like-"

"She is not", Aqua cut his sister off. He put his hand on the small of your back and you tried to not react, but you couldn't tell, was your face heating up? He pushed you forward towards Ruby and then pulled his hand away. "This is [alias]."

...

"Oh!" Ruby really needed to work on her volume control.

The aura coming from the bush changed, you couldn't tell if it was in a positive way or not, but the redhead used it as a hiding spot to claw at her hat.

Eyes blessed with one starry glow gazed into the ones holding two and the blonde girl stepped forward grabbing and holding your hands together. The serious look on her face surprised you, there were so many emotions in her eyes, like a deep galaxy and suddenly you saw an energy in Ruby that you've only ever seen in an idol long passed.

"So you've decided?", there was hope in her voice.

The close proximity was still startling you, as well as her suddenly turning serious, but you quickly tried to gather yourself. Small flashbacks of the long lost time where you've spoken similar words flood your mind, hands unconsciously gripping hers a bit tighter.

"Yeah, I've made up my mind. I'll take up your offer, I'll join B-Komachi as an idol."

-End of Magic Words

Even before you joined B-Komachi, you knew that training to be an idol would be hard work. However, you didn't expect it to be this hard. Maybe it's a lot more different in this body than your old one. You aren't an energetic 12 year old anymore. Was all this cardio really worth it?

You stop to catch your breath with your hand on the stone wall next to you. 'Why did I accept her offer' kept running in and out of your brain as your face turned red with adrenalin. Pieyon shouted for you to keep going as you were way behind the other three girls. Biting your tongue, you made it on top of the hill before flopping to the floor in front of Kana and Ruby. All this running puts way too much pressure on your little deformed rotten heart.

"Are you okay, [name- [alias]?" Ruby asked, putting a hand out for you to grab.

"Ruby! Why are you saying that? You're the one with asthma!!" Kana sighed, helping Ruby lift you back up from the ground. Ruby comments with a 'But I'm not the one dying!' as you stare at the sky above.

"Keep it up, [alias]! It's only been 30 minutes-ish!" Memcho laughed, patting your back and handing you a sticker covered water bottle. "Well actually it's closer to 25, but y'know~"

"What do you mean it's only been 30 minutes??!" You whine, pulling your mask off to the side of your head to breathe in fresh air for the first time. "I feel like I'm dying!! There's no fucking way I'm going to be able to do this on a stage.."

"Language!" Ruby shouted, "No idol would ever drop an f-bomb without getting criticized, we really need to work on that." She took a sip from her water bottle, it was glittery and pink. An Ai charm was attached to the lid. "And put your mask back on!!"

You groaned as you slapped the mask back on your face. *You had to go to the amusement park later with your friends... would they even let you go? You weren't even that good at dancing either. Idol work just isn't meant for you. You fall butt first onto the floor as you shut your eyes. B-Komachi II is already going downhill. Speaking of downhill, that was your next goal. Running downhill back to the studio with your new friends and Pieyon. Again, you were behind them, but it wasn't as bad as the run up.

When the apartment was reached, you felt the cool breeze of sweet air conditioning on your skin. You sat down on one of the brightly colored sofas Strawberry Studios owned.

"No sitting down just yet! We have to work on our muscles! And also learn choreography, some marketing stuff using videos, probably some more cardio, oh wait, not to mention editing the videos–" Ruby continued to go on for a few more minutes as you caught your breath, again.

The dancing sucked, especially learning it all from a not so high quality video. There wasn't anyone to train you besides Pieyon and the Ai fanatic: Ruby. She was a lot better than you were, so was Kana. Memcho was also better than you, but the gap between the two of you was a lot smaller than your gap with the two self proclaimed idols.

You wonder where Aqua is.

As hours went by, your training for day one was finished. You were with the girls, sitting in a room with walls made of mirrors as they packed up their stuff and made some small talk with each other.

"Here's what's funny: we did this whole work out thing with Pieyon to promote B-Komachi! It was sooo hard, we had to do, like, actual punches and stuff for a whole hour!" Ruby burst out laughing, but quickly stopped to think, "I just don't understand kids these days, why do they find buff guys working out so entertaining? Whatever, we'll have to make them fall in love with us!~"

"If they're all going to fall for us, then we're going to have to make a name for ourselves as idols. For example: Who's going to be the face of the new B-Komachi?!" Memcho says, putting her pointer finger to her lip.

"So a leader?" Kana asked, shifting her eyes to look at Mem.

"Yeah! A leader! I say that I should be the leader because I'm the one with the most experience using social media and with uh– nevermind that part. That's totally [alias]."

"No thanks, I'm not up for being the face of this whole group thing, I can't be the face. I don't even have one." You joke, "But I'm being serious, I don't think it would do us any good by having me be the leader. Plus, I don't think I'm really... marketable."

"I totally understand that." Ruby says, putting a hand on your shoulder and smiling, "We won't pressure you any further– but since we're on this topic... I nominate myself to be the leader of B-Komachi because I resemble Ai the most. Plus, I was the reason we made this whole group in the first place, y'know? So I think that the title should go to me."

"Well you aren't going down without a fight!" Memcho shouts, pouncing towards Ruby. They got in a cat fight as you look over to Kana.

"What about you? You haven't said anything yet. Any thoughts on who the leader should be?"

"Hm? Oh well... no comment." Kana sighs, "This is dumb, why don't we just get a random number generator online and just like... I don't know. Ruby is even and Memcho is odds, and whatever number gets chosen the person gets the win?"

"No Kana! That's a horrible idea!" Ruby shouts, "Being an idol is all about talent! Memcho, I challenge you to a singing contest in the karaoke bar down the street! Whoever gets the better score gets to becomes leader!"

"Oho, child? You dare challenge me? Respect your elders, Rubytan!" Mem laughs, you can't tell if it's at her self deprecating joke or at Ruby for challenging her. Mem pointed her finger at Ruby with a silly looking grin plastered across her lips.

"Yeah? You wanna go? Let's go!! C'mon!" Ruby runs out the door with Mem closely behind her.

"What about you Kana, are you gonna go with them?" You ask.

"No, probably not. I'm going to head home now. It's getting dark anyway. Bye [alias]." Kana left before you could say bye to her. From a distance you could hear her saying bye to Pieyon as well.

You're alone in the room as you sit in a corner and scroll through the apps on your phone. It's always the same thing again and again, art of you, food, videos of babies, art of the newest anime, true crime, the latest controversies, paparazzi photos of Akane, and school stuff on your separate account. It's all so much, maybe you should post something soon...

*Shit.

You run down stairs quickly only to find Pieyon taking his mask off. A pretty blonde head of hair popped out of the mask as he set it down. It was Aqua under there the whole time!

Oh.

Oh???

"Oh. Hi [name]." Aqua said, his face was sweaty and gross. That's what a mask does to someone, doesn't it? "I forgot you were still here."

"Eww!! I hate that, put your mask back on." You whine, covering Aqua's face with your hand from a distance, "I can't believe you did that stupid voice! You're such a loser!!" You laugh, "And I can't believe that you were the one to make me run all of that stupid shit!!!" You groan, flicking his forehead.

"You said you wanted to become an idol, this is how you do it." Aqua says softly, looking over at you. His hand was over his forehead. "Can I take your mask off?"

"Well if it's you then it's whatever." You sigh, his hand slipped your mask off carefully, grazing his fingers– barely touching your actual face before setting it down onto the table before you. You flinch at his touch and make a face before reverting back to your normal self. "I don't think I like this whole idol thing right now."

"Really? Why?"

"I want to say that I'm loving this whole setup, but I like it when group activities are like... how do I say this, I wish that I could be friends with all of them. And I know that the time will come, but as of now it just feels really uncomfortable. Like Ruby is obsessed with me for some reason, Kana just doesn't seem to like me that much, and Mem is– well actually nothing is wrong with Mem, she's cool."

"That's a lot." Aqua sighs, "Do you want me to talk to them about it or something?"

"No. That'll make me sound like a loser. Instead, I'll just... I'll just chill out or something, I'm sure that it'll be fine. Idol work is hard work, so I'll push through like the rest of them☆"

"Make sure that you take breaks though, you know it isn't going to be good for you if you don't." Aqua says, he puts his hand on your right arm in a gentle way. You backup a little with a smile across your lips.

"And how would you know that? ☆It's not like my heart's going to explode or something." You take your arm back from him as you say, giving him a look.

"Do you really know that?" Aqua asks, "It doesn't have a high chance of happening, but I'm sure someone like you with a genetic heart defect would take precautions, no?"

"..." You were taken aback that he remembered something so invaluable in everyday life about you, but you were grateful to some extent that he did, "What does it mean to you anyway? You aren't some sort of doctor or something! You're just a kid you like idols– and it's not like you're gonna give me a break from any exercises!!"

"True, maybe I'll need to train your heart more than the others, yeah? You and Ruby."

"That is so... stupid!! Aqua you aren't going to make me do anything."

"But that's how you can be a good idol, don't you want to make your fans happy?" He said menacingly, it's almost as if he was trying to test you.

"I already make my fans happy! In fact, just because I joined this group means that I can't stream or– or make any content for them all to consume!! [alias] is falling off right now!"

"Chill out, it's only been like one day." Aqua murmurs.

"One day is a lot!! But like... I guess it's fine. I can still try to make music and they'll eat it up..."

"I'm sure Matsuyo would be upset. He's a real big [alias] fan." He states sarcastically.

"And you aren't? Your sister seems to like me a lot!" You reply sarcastically to his comment as you cross your arms.

"I'm more of a [name] fan."

"..." Your face turned red as you bit your lip to not say anything else that he could counter and make you even more flustered- embarrassed. Yeah, embarrassed.

"...Weren't you supposed to go to the amusement park with Eruru today?"

"Oh shit! I totally forgot!! Okay, yeah. Thanks Aqua!!" You yell, running off to meet your friends. So that's why you came down here, you can't believe that you forgot about it so quickly. The time is 7:39 you're already 19 minutes late. You mentally beat yourself up as you call an uber your way to ride over to Wonderland, Eruru's place. You hurriedly type up a text to both Matsuyo and Eruru filled with apologies and lies on what you were doing before this.

You cover your face with your hands in the car ride as you think about what just happened. Did Aqua really need to say that? Did he even mean it or was he just trying to get high ground? Or was he just trying to catch your off guard? His words kept repeating in your head. That's it: you'll never let your guard drop around him. Hopefully.

˚⋆୨ ✶ ୧⋆˚

On Sunday, you and the girls met back at the studio. The silence was somewhat awkward. Kana was on her phone, trying her best to not think of anything related to B-Komachi it seems, Ruby and Memcho were looking back and forth at each other, whispering in each others ears every now and then while giggling, and you were staring at all three of them with an awkward smile plastered across your face. At some point, you started staring out at space.

Thankfully it wasn't for long because Ruby quickly broke the silence with Memcho at her side. "Okay! We decided who the leader should be." She smiled while Mem gave her the thumbs up. "It's going to be..."

"Kana Arima!" Mem and Ruby both shout out, pointing their fingers at the surprised girl. Her jaw was dropped, and so was the phone she was previously holding.

"WHAT??" Kana shouted, "There is NO way I'm going to be a leader for this... rookie group! It would make me look bad! And it's not like I'm like Mem and [alias], they all have a backup plan! I'm just some... erm... I don't have an agency or- or a fanbase that I could crawl back to if this whole plan falls backwards! This is just totally not going to work out in my favor! There's no way! Nononono, everythingisgoingtofailandand... What happened to you wanting to be the leader, Ruby?!"

"Well while we were out at karaoke, we saw some songs that had your name in it!" Ruby said, pointing to a picture on her phone.

"And then we searched it up on YouTube! And we saw such cute videos of your singing songs and some of them were actually pretty recent. Kana, you have such a great voice! So much better than me and Ruby!" Memcho says, clicking on one of the videos on Ruby's phone. The song started playing and before it got to a part where you could get a good listen to Kana's voice, Kana jumped and slapped the phone off of Ruby's hand.

"No! D-Don't listen to crap like that!!!" Kana screamed, "I- I thought I told you guys that I didn't want to be the leader!! Didn't I?"

"You did? I don't remember you saying anything like that~~"

"Noo!! I can't be the leader, I know nothing about being an idol! I never even liked idols to begin with, I think they're all phony and fake for keeping up an act all the time!"

"Hey! Don't disrespect other idols, we could get canceled for that you know! And you put on acts all the time, you're an actor. That's your job!" Ruby shouted back, picking up her phone from the floor and dusting it off.

"If it means anything, I think you're the most experienced out of all of us, Kana." You say, putting your hand on Kana's shoulder, "And I know this is all unexpected, but we all believe in you. You can do this!☆ You've been on a stage before, we haven't! If anyone, I think that it should go to you. We're all learning how to be idols after all." Kana looks at you with a smile as she takes a deep breath.

"And if you mess up, we'll be right behind you to pick you back up!" Ruby said, her left eye shined brightly, it almost outshined you!

"That's so totally right!" Mem agreed, nodding her head back and forth, "You'll be a terrific leader, and if anyone disagrees they'll have to answer to my fists!"

"I... I guess I could try being a leader. If I'm good enough, I'll be able to push the spotlight on you guys. Th-Thanks." Kana's smile drops as she closes her eyes. She said something that only you could hear, "If I'm good enough, or... if I'm the best leader then he'll be cheering for me. I'll be a bright star that he can look up to."

Kana likes someone? You didn't expect that, but you internally agree with her. Even if you do hate most things about being an idol, you wouldn't let B-Komachi crumble down. Hanae wouldn't like that, so neither would you.

-End of Looking So Gentle

Check out the other parts here! {CLICK ME}

[stone-stars]

So recently I had the pleasure of designing this pin and sticker for @innbetween's season 5 crowdfund! Which (as of posting this) is ALMOST OVER! Go support them!!!

[ID: Two similar circular designs of the quote "If you don't like what you've become, you may change again." The first only has the second half of the quote. The border is made of branches, with leaves sprouting from the branches on the left and empty branches on the right. One acorn hangs from one of the empty branches. Along the bottom of the border, plants sprout on the left while mushrooms grow on the right. The background is dark green. In the first design, the text and all the lineart is gold, and the leaves, plants, acorn, and mushrooms are colored in simple flat colors. In the second design, the text is gold, but the branches are brown, and there is more detail and texture in the various parts of the design.]

Since the crowdfund is wrapping up I wanted to share some of the early designs and some of my thoughts on the finished design, because honestly i loved a lot of them.

[ID: Rough sketches of a variety of designs, all featuring the "If you don't like what you've become, you may change again." Some feature only the second half of the quote ("You may change again"). The first is a sketch version of the design above. The second is a rounded rectangle, with the "I" on again being dotted with sprouting mushrooms. The third is a pair of acorns, one with the full quote and one with the half quote. The fourth is a circle with a tree with an acorn falling from it. The fifth is a mushroom. The sixth is an acorn on a branch, with the first half of the quote on a leaf and the second half on an acorn.]

You might've guessed it, but considering Tode, who says the quote in the show, is a druid, the designs are all heavily nature themed.

Fun little note! On all the designs, the leaves are oak leaves to tie into the acorn, and the mushrooms are based on Amanita muscaria, which is among the mushrooms most frequently called Toadstools (see what i did there).

In all honesty, when Hannah came to me with the quote, the first design that came into my head was the one that we ultimately settled on. We actually took another design (the other circular one with the oak tree) to a more refined stage, but the final design just clicked in the end.

And here's a little breakdown of that design! There's a lot of elements going on here, but in general I wanted the details to represent that no matter where you are in life, you still have the potential to change. Thus, the 'cycle', so to speak.

[ID: The final design, this time annotated. There's a circle of labels around the border, with arrows pointing to the next label. The cycle is "Sprouts: New growth" → "Oak leaves: Life, thriving" → "Bare branches: Death/dying" → "Acorn: Seed (potential/rebirth)" → "Mushrooms: Decomposers". At the bottom, there's a horizontal line that's split down the middle. To the left is "Life" and to the right is "Death"]

Here's the thing: I had so much fun with this design. It was fun to think through all the little things I could include, and it was so much fun to work on a design for a show and a sentiment that I love with my whole heart.

So once again, if you want a sticker or pin with this design, or if you just want to support an incredible podcast, go support Inn Between's crowdfund! And if you do get one of my designs, tag me in it when it gets to you, I'd love to see 👀!

[dearmrsawyer]

My garden!!!!!! Everything is growing so happily!! The giant beast is the zucchini, it has declared itself the king. I have been deriving a huge amount of happiness from my garden which has been nice since the last month has been 🎵 the woooorst 🎵 i wrote in all my xmas cards how much better this year has been and then two days later proceeded to have such a really bad time lol

Nonna went to hospital last month with pneumonia which i was not terribly worried about as she tends to do that at least once a year, it is rough on my mum who ends up at the hospital almost every day because nonna is mostly non verbal, and its just easier for her peace of mind to be there rather than leave her to the mercy of understaffed nurses. I visited her once but i don't visit her much when she goes to hospital because i'm immunocompromised and a hospital is an excellent place to catch something! I was very surprised, given that we're in a covid wave, that not a single hospital staff member was wearing a mask when i visited (me and mum were though). Nonna was thankfully in a room on her own because she's quite high risk, although on her last day they transferred her into a ward with a bunch of other people, i assume because of limited beds. Anyways she came home after a week much improved but then dipped again very dramatically for reasons we couldn't understand. Turned out she caught COVID while she was on hospital!!! 😃 Did she catch it off an unmasked nurse or in the ward they shoved her in with 49594389043 other people? Who can say! 😀 So off she goes back to hospital! Of course she'd been home for almost a week before we found out so we all locked ourselves in our rooms testing ourselves. My mum, brother and I managed not to catch it, which is genuinely a miracle since we were all very hands on with her once she was back home, given her diminished strength. but guess who she did give it to, nonno 😀 Off to hospital he goes! So glad that the hospital, which is chronically low on beds and staff, gave both my 91yo grandparents covid so that they could take up more space in an understaffed hospital!!! (Nonna also got another infection while she was there hooray.)

They both came back home not too long after with some antivirals, and neither of them had too rough a go of it, which i am so thankful for. Once they were home we basically split the house in half, mum stayed downstairs with them since she had to keep caring for them, kareem and i stayed upstairs. Obviously it was a relief to have them home and not feel like they were likely to die anymore, but it was stressful to know that mum had to take care of them by herself, especially since nonna basically could not move at all. she was already mostly dead weight after coming home post pneumonia, so kareem would help mum get her around, but now she was even weaker, and mum didn't have any help at all. so idk it was just awful feeling useless. plus just the stress of waiting to see if we'd caught covid! none of us have had it yet, so its still quite scary to us.

We kept the house separated for about a week and a half i'd say, by that time nonno was all better and nonna was symptom free but her strength hadn't returned. it was five days of sweet relief, during which mum had a night out with one of her work friends, VERY well deserved. well well well, she caught covid on that night out 💯 she doesn't catch it whole locked in with nonna and nonno all that time and then the second she's out in public BAM. i literally. HOW. we all isolated in our rooms and started testing ourselves again, and i don't think i got more than 4 hours of sleep for nights and nights waiting to see if i'd caught it AGAIN. also kareem's gf tested positive a day later, so kareem had been exposed to mum AND his gf, and i'd been exposed to mum AND kareem. i was literally like my number is up how can we get away with this again. in what can simply not be anything other than an act of god, kareem and i dodged it yet again. the RELIEF, also the relief of not having to mask everytime i left my room and sanitise my hands and everything i touched, i do not take that for granted. of course once again i have felt useless that mum is again left to care for nonna and nonno alone WHILE she's unwell 😕 but i have been able to cook for her, i've gotten to cook some of my garden vegetables for her! so that's been nice. mum also wasn't hit too hard thankfully, and we'll stop separating the house on wednesday. i literally don't want to have contact with another human being for the foreseeable future, i am sick of isolating and thinking i have covid and not sleeping, everyone stay away from me and let me live in peace \o/

while all of this has been going on work has been so horribly stressful lol i have not been able to decide whether it's a relief to work and block out home life or get off the clock and block out work life. a handful of small projects were thrust upon me in late november, all of which needed to be done before the end of the year. why they couldn't be greenlit earlier i literally do not know, since i know their need was identified months ago. i do love being overwhelmed and crying at my desk 😀 also i genuinely feel these projects should not be my responsibility and so while i do think my input was needed on them i was very crankly that they were assigned to me, and that if they operate as planned will become a regular fixture of my role next year, which is already VERY stressful to think about because students are returning to campus next year, and i'm significantly busier than i was last time students were on campus, so i'm concerned about how i'll be able to do everything i need to do. plus these new projects i don't want but have to manage.

UGH well the good news is that i am already on holidays, usually i would work until a couple of days before xmas but i would like to thank august!jamila for deciding to move my usual block of leave up by a week, and thursday was my last day of work for the year. she could not have known how much december!jamila would need that but she did it anyway. some good things that i have gotten to enjoy through this past month were my garden and getting to watch the recent dr who specials in my lounge room under my christmas lights. a friend lent me some books that i have been DEVOURING they have been sooo good, and i have also been reading lots of wonderful fic. it is almost christmas and i am planning all the desserts i will make and i'm excited! ugh i survived this past month and i did not catch covid and everyone is alive, i am hoping that on wednesday this chapter can finally close.