#huge thanks to them for archiving this show

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

This show has no right to be as pretty as it is btw (who am I kidding it has every right)

[staybabblingbaby]

Soulmate Garden AU Ch.4 (Lewisia) a3d2

[Caution: These are not full fics, or even full parts of fics for some, these are part of my writing progress archive!]

Concept: Growing up, you knew Soulmates weren't all that they cracked up to be. So when, on your 18th birthday, your skin is painted with a garden of flower buds, you resolve to hide it from everyone. Who had ever heard of someone with 8 soulmates, anyway?

Or; Reader has 8 soulmates and no issue avoiding all of them. It's up to SKZ to show her that while every soulbond might not be made of fairy tales, theirs certainly could be.

Word Count: 10,680

Notes: Holy shit, it's been like 3 months?????? In my defense, holidays are awful, and this is a fuckin' beast of a chapter. Binnie would NAWT shut up T^T She almost matches the word count for the entire fic so far TT^TT Plus 10 images of texting. Y am i like this??? Huge shout outs to my lovely, patient, amazing betas who made this chapter at ALL possible, @lazyfacecowboy and @brbwritingfanfic. Seriously, this would not have been written without y'all, everyone say thank you! Also special mention for @chancloud8 for negotiating me through the last bit of the chapter LMAO. She kept feeding me fics, they were my reward for doing the writing UvU

Hope y'all enjoy! And I hope it was worth the wait <3

(p.s my ass did NOT do a real final readthrough. If the formatting is weird pls forgive me, I'm sick of looking @ her T^T)

Dividers by @saradika

Warnings: Allusions to past domestic violence, flashback of verbal abuse (very vague, but still there), panic attack, she/her reader

Leave me comments or questions or anything! Love hearing from folks <3

Masterlist <3 | Prev Part | Next Part (Coming Soon <3)

The next morning marks a return to routine.

You roll out of bed half awake, sleep-mused and ready for murder. Your mood isn’t improved by the way you’d gone to bed - still in your work clothes with day-after mascara gluing your eyelids together.

A quick stop by the restroom to strip and scrub your face is a necessity, otherwise you’re liable to just crawl back into bed and rot there. You honestly wish you could. Just rot away and let all this soulmate business pass you by as you slowly return to the earth.

Alas, capitalism waits for no man.

You examine your reflection when you’ve finished, doing your best to ignore the remaining traces of grey streaks down your cheeks where your eyeliner hadn’t been as waterproof as advertised.

You try to hold onto the flash of irritation the sight brings you, to cling to the normalcy of being irritated that your makeup is waterproof enough to be a pain to remove, but not to stay through your tears. Then you remember what you’d been crying over and the pit of fear and shame that’s been your companion the last few days comes rolling back.

You don’t even know why you’d cried. Don’t feel like you deserved to cry. After all, it’s not like you were the one rejected by your soulmate for no reason.

You do your best to shake off the incoming spiral, ambling your way into the kitchen. You just need to fall back on your routines and feel normal for a bit. You’re not entirely convinced that ignoring your problems won’t make them go away, despite the dark feelings trembling in your chest.

You press your lips together to stop the bottom one from trembling and open the fridge. There’s a plate of eggs, fruit, and toast inside.

Taylor, freak of nature that he is, has been up for hours already, you know. He’d probably been up and out the door before the sun had even thought about rising. Weirdo.

Your roommate is well aware of how non-functional you can be in the morning, so it’s not unusual of him to leave you leftovers when he makes breakfast. Especially when he knows you’re not feeling your best. The little note on top isn’t new either: usually a reminder, grocery list, or a little encouragement for your day. The whole thing makes you smile, usually, and you’re always touched by his consideration.

Today that little note makes your eyes prick with a new wave of tears.

‘Give yourself a chance. Bet’s still on <3’

The $20 you’d slapped onto the counter last night is taped to the back. It feels a bit like a stone hand is crushing your heart under the weight of something unknowable and precious when you carefully tuck both the money and the note into your wallet.

You very deliberately do NOT cry, though it’s a near thing. You’d done enough crying last night. But if you sniffle a bit into cold eggs, well...

That’s for you to know, isn’t it?

It’s a Tuesday, so after breakfast you drag yourself back to your room to throw on your largest, rattiest, t-shirt and a pair of leggings to head to the gym. You’ll drag yourself through your routine with leaded limbs if you have to, you’re going to have the most regular day you can manage and everything will be fine. It has to be.

You can’t help it when eyes catch on the newly-bloomed marks on your skin as you strip away your sleepwear. The sight makes you uneasy, almost uncomfortable. It takes you a moment to realize why looking at your mark, a daily ritual you’ve kept for years, feels so foreign to you today.

It’s almost alarming to acknowledge that you haven’t actually looked at your mark since you’d met your first soulmate. The concert feels like a lifetime ago, now, despite having been barely two days ago. You’re a bit ashamed to admit that you’d been avoiding looking at it since you’d felt the first flowers bloom.

It’s no wonder looking at it feels weird, you muse as you study it now. It might as well be a whole new mark, for all the changes that have happened since you last saw it.

You decide, in the name of returning to your routine for good, that you can’t skip even this tiny part of your daily rituals.

You shuffle over to your closet, swinging open the door to reveal the full-length mirror hanging on the other side. You don’t bother with your usual rounds of self-depreciation or daily affirmations. Instead, you find your eyes glued to droopy purple petals and blankets of white stars across your abdomen.

Something wilted and small within you mourns the loss of the buds that had brought you so much comfort since they’d appeared. The new blooms are beautiful, of course, vibrant and radiant and full of so much meaning. Still, the change wounds you.

Only time will tell if it’s the healing sort of hurt.

You find your eyes glued to the fresh flowers. Their names come to mind with ease as you trace gentle fingers over echoes of delicate petals. ‘Bellflowers’ You recite to yourself, drawing your finger up thin stalks and back down dipped heads, ‘for gratitude, affection, and endurance’. Your fingers dance a bit lower. ‘Edelweiss’ you muse, lightly tapping each fuzzy white star, ‘for devotion, nobility, and courage’.

The knowledge comes easily to you, not from any cosmic force, but because of course it does. Your sister hadn’t been wrong when she’d said that asking a person’s favorite flower had been basically an obsession of yours.

The habit had started well before you’d gotten your mark. Before you’d even properly known what soulmates were, really.

It started with lazy summer days you’d been almost too young to remember. A slim hand engulfing your tiny wrist, being made to sit next to your mother while she did something in the dirt, her shadow your only shelter from the blistering sun.

Gardening with your mother had started as a way for her to drag you out of the house to get some sun while keeping an easy eye on you. Before your sister was born you’d spent many hazy afternoons learning to work the soil beside your mother.

After the advent of your favorite gremlin, you’d spent those afternoons tending to the family garden alone.

You remember being grateful to the newborn back then. Those solitary afternoons were some of the most peaceful in your memory.

At some point the ‘family garden’ had become more ‘your garden’. Your mother wouldn’t even bother to plan it out with you by the time your sister had reached her toddler years. She’d drive you to the store, hand you a bit of cash, and leave it all in your tiny capable hands.

You’d spent hours researching the best ways to nurture your plants.

What flowers liked being planted together, which ones should be separated. You learned about soil types and the nutrients found in them. You learned about ph values, how to measure them, and why they mattered. Anything to have your garden thriving more brightly, more beautifully, for longer.

If you weren’t in the garden, you were in the library by your house, nose buried in a gardening book.

You vividly remember the day it all went wrong.

It hadn’t even been that dramatic, as you recall. At least, not in terms of your parent’s usual fights. It was heartbreak—despair— that had marked the day, instead of fear.

You’d been digging up weeds, clawing up deep roots with your gloved hands and a trowel, when your father had come storming outside.

You don’t remember what he’d said. It’d been nonsense, just vitriol for vitriols' sake. Something about you always taking your mother’s side because of your shared hobby, you think.

Never mind that the woman hadn’t put so much as a toenail to the dirt since your sister had been born.

He hadn’t let up for quite a while, if memory serves. Stood there yelling at you in your safe space for close to an hour. Maybe two, but your child-brain couldn’t be trusted with the time.

It may have just been minutes, now that you think about it.

Nonetheless, he’d yelled, and yelled, and yelled. He hadn’t trampled on or broken anything. He hadn’t even made sense.

And yet, when he’d finally left, everything was different.

The blooms you’d worked so hard to nurture were no longer beautiful, the soil you’d once called home no longer safe.

You hadn’t tended another garden after that season. You’d seen your plants to winter, and you’d let go. You’d turned away from the sun and soil and leaned into your books and silly questions to fill the hole left behind.

You’re sure you’d left claw marks in the dirt.

Something like a gentle humming emanates from your soulmark, and its warmth draws you back to the present. You look down at it, noticing how tightly you're clutching at the garden around your waist, your arms wrapped around you in a weak semblance of a hug. Each of your fingers had managed to directly touch a flower.

The awkward sprawl of your fingers feels natural, as if you’d never sought to comfort yourself any other way. As if seeking out your bond, your link to total strangers, for comfort was all you’d ever done.

It was natural, you muse. It was human nature to seek resonance in their bonded. It was the universe’s way of assuring you that you’re loved. Your soulmate’s way of assuring you that they’re still there.

You gingerly pry your hands away and blankly study the crescent moons you’ve left behind, soft skin indented where petals should have ripped.

You wonder if you’ll leave claw marks in this garden too. If they’ll leave claw marks in you.

You tear your eyes away from the mirror, ignoring the warm, gentle tingling up your side where your fingers had dug in. You know it means the people on the other end are pressing against their own marks. You know it shows their care, how that gentle sensation masks the stinging ache your fingers should have left behind.

For some reason, you miss the pain.

You quickly toss on a camisole, forgoing your usual privacy wraps, and your t-shirt over that.

There was nothing for emptying your mind quite like running yourself into the ground at the gym. With full awareness that you’re going to regret your gym session later, you flee your apartment, your mind pleading normal, normal, normal.

Maybe jogging all the way to the gym wasn’t such a great idea. It’d sounded fantastic at the time, a head start on your cardio and a way to remove yourself from your negative headspace before you tried to toss around weights you barely knew how to use.

It had sort of worked, but now you hadn’t even entered the building and you were already a sweaty, panting, mess.

You enter the building after guzzling down half of your water bottle, resignation in your heart. Cardio wasn’t even your focus today.

The automatic doors slide open with their usual swish and you’re greeted by the familiar stale smell all gyms seem to share, no matter how clean. It’s comforting, even if you do kind of wanna go home already.

There’s someone already at the receptionist’s desk when you approach, talking in slow and measured English. You try not to be annoyed with the tiny delay, but while you’d successfully outrun your demons (for now), your bad mood had stuck around.

Alas, you’ve ventured into the public and found the public there. A travesty. Knowing that you just have to deal with it, you cross your arms and bite back the irritation this complete stranger hadn’t done anything to earn.

Luckily enough, the low and measured cadence of the stranger’s voice is soothing enough to zone out to. Unfortunately, he’s also the only thing around to rest your eyes on, so you find yourself studying his form.

His back is broad and built, huge biceps on display in a tight fitting black t-shirt. You kinda wanna squish them. A vivid tattoo sleeve runs all the way down to his wrist, and you find your stare glued to it.

Large, boldly colored flowers take up the majority of the space, vague outlines of crashing waves and rolling mists filling in the rest with a luxurious combination of oriental art styles.

Beautiful as it is, you can’t help but think it doesn’t look finished.

Dragging your eyes away from such gorgeous ink is quite the task, but you don’t want your admiration to be mistaken for judgement. It gets easier when you start to notice just how fine the man himself is.

You really can’t help the way your eyes trace up and down his body, now that you’re no longer anchored to his tattoo. It should be impossible, you think, to somehow bulk up in only the right places, but by Jove this man has done it. You’re jealous, honestly.

Your eyes come to a rest on the stranger’s backside. Quite jealous, indeed.

You try to shake yourself from your admiration, reminding yourself that there were very many well-muscled men in this place and that you’d always endeavored to keep a polite line-of-sight, even when they didn't. It hadn’t even been a hard ask, until now.

You drag your gaze back up to the back of his head.

You’d be polite if it killed you. Even if neither the stranger or the scrawny receptionist had noticed your wandering gaze. Especially then.

While you were.... distracted... the man’s conversation with the receptionist seemed to have gone a whole lot of nowhere. From what you can gather, he’s looking for a short-term membership, and the receptionist is trying to tell him they don’t do that.

You know that’s true, the receptionist isn’t trying to scam the guy. Even the trial period for this place was an entire month. You’d specifically chosen this gym for that reason. If you hadn’t been able to stick it out for a month, you know you’d have never used the place enough to justify a membership.

You send your sympathies to this stranger, it seems he really just needs a little less than a week. You know there are some no-commitment type places not too far though, so you wonder why he’s stuck on this place.

Their back and forth goes a while longer, but it’s evident that the beautifully-built stranger can’t really argue his case properly. Whether because of the obvious language barrier he’s working with, or because he’s run out of arguments, you can’t be sure.

Eventually he steps to the side to make a call, and you’re able to approach the counter.

The receptionist (His name is Jake, you remind yourself by reading his name-tag. The owner’s nephew, if you recall) looks relieved to see you after whatever hassling the stranger had given him.

He lazily waves the clipboard and its sign-in sheet at you in greeting. You take the clipboard, trading him your membership card and driver’s license for it, and turn to prop your knee up on the counter to balance it while you write.

Incidentally, your choice of position keeps the stranger in your line of sight.

It also happens to give Jake a view of his own, but you magnanimously ignore his gaze wandering to your chest. If only because you’re still looking not-so-respectfully at the tattooed stranger a few feet away.

You weren’t close to the receptionist by any means, but Jake is easy to chat to, when you take the extra minute to do so. The type of acquaintance you’d never remember the name of if it weren’t pinned to his lapel, but you've seen pictures of every dog he’s ever had.

It makes it easy to pry him for gossip.

“So what was that all about?” You query as you hand back the clipboard. He shrugs at you, typing a second longer.

“Some big-shot who needs a security detail,” He answers, unimpressed, “Says this is the only gym in, like, five miles of his hotel that he doesn’t need an entourage to go to.”

You hum your understanding, now trying to place if the handsome stranger was someone you knew of.

Situations like that weren’t uncommon for this gym. Celebrities that actually lived in LA weren’t spotted here very often but, since it was settled very close to quite a few high-security luxury hotels, the building saw its fair share of famous faces.

Due to its occasionally high-profile clientele, security was kept quite tightly, and a certain code of conduct was expected amongst the gym’s members. It was another justification for the long trial period, wherein one could only access the front room with the basic weights and machines. All the fancy stuff (including a pool, rock wall, dance studio, and all sorts) was in the back.

Non-members weren’t allowed past reception at all.

It was also another reason you yourself were a patron here. The high security and strict standards made for a quiet and comfortable atmosphere.

At least, as long as you ignored the judgmental looks. Most people who utilized this space were much more fit and put together than you. You tried not to let it bother you.

“What’s the issue, then?” You question Jake, “Doesn’t the owner make exceptions for celebrities?” You phrase it as a question, but you know he does. The unfamiliar faces that pop up for a few days every now and then wouldn’t show up otherwise.

Jake just sighs like he’s had this conversation a thousand times. Considering the celebrity(?) waving his hands around as he spoke rapidly into his phone not far away, maybe he had.

“He does, but he’s out of town and no one else can adjust the contracts.” He eventually explains. He finally hands you your stuff back, and you hum consideringly as you put the cards back in your wallet.

Another glance at the furrowed brows on the stranger’s masked face has pity welling up your throat.

You turn your gaze to focus on Jake.

“Do I still have that visitor pass?” You ask him, knowing that he still has your details up. Jake glances at you with a raised eyebrow, but obligingly checks the computer.

“Yup,” He confirms, “You’ve been paying for it since you dragged your poor roommate in here that one time. Why?”

“Can he use it?” you nod your head to the frustrated stranger. From where you’re sat, still perched on the edge of the desk, it looks oddly like he’s begging whoever’s on the other line.

Your visitor pass wasn’t all-access, of course. It’d just get the poor guy into the main front room plus the locker rooms and showers, but you figured it’d be better than nothing. It wasn’t like Taylor would step foot in here after you’d run him ragged last time, not even for the moral support.

Jake levels you with his most deadpan stare. It’s quite a good one, completely unimpressed. You think it must be something about customer service that allows him to make that face. Or maybe it’s just you.

“You realize that your visitor pass is you vouching for your visitor’s character, right?” He reminds you, “If he does anything, breaks anything, pisses off the wrong lifeguard- it’ll be on your head.”

You just shrug. It’s not like you couldn’t find a new gym if you had to. You’d miss this one, with its quiet atmosphere and abundant amenities, but you didn’t require its security and discretion like some of the other members did.

“I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Is all you tell Jake. It’s not even a lie.

The poor boy just rolls his eyes at you. He still turns to rifle through the desk for the right form for you to fill out though, so you’ll take it.

“You a fan of his or something?” Jake asks, handing you a different clipboard. “There are easier ways to bag a celebrity.”

“Nope!” You answer cheerfully, fully ignoring the suggestion of your motives as you start to fill out the form, “No idea who he is.”

Jakes huffs an incredulous laugh, and turns a considering gaze on your new friend. And the stranger does have to be a friend now, because ‘some guy’ is not an option on your paperwork.

“I bet he’s a wrestler,” he finally says after a long moment, “Or a sportswear model.”

You gently bop him on the head with your clipboard, “I refuse to participate in your speculation.” You admonish, ignoring his whining.

“I’ll show you his picture when you leave,” He smirks back, “and whatever google says about him.” He shrugs when you send him a cutting glare, “What? It’s public information.”

“Respect your customer’s privacy, you weirdo.” You scold. He just laughs as you hand him the form, all filled out and just waiting for the stranger’s signature. You know full well that Jake will go through with his research, regardless of what you say, so you give up easily.

It’s not like he’ll be fired for doing it, as long as you don’t go blabbing about the poor celebrity outside of the gym. Privileges of nepotism.

You exchange farewells as you hop off the counter, and he begins to wave over Mr. Celebrity. You meet the eyes of your on-paper friend and offer him a quick nod before you scuttle off deeper into the building.

Hopefully he’d be too grateful for your offer to find you terribly strange.

You manage to make it all the way through your warm-ups before your good deed gets punished. You suppose you’ll be grateful to the universe for letting you find your zen on your yoga mat before it dropped the other shoe.

You notice the legs in the mirror before you realize someone is trying to speak to you. You accidentally ignore the newcomer for several long moments, assuming they were approaching to use a different part of the mirror. When you finally realize they’re waiting for you to acknowledge them, it’s been just shy of too long.

You ease out of your last stretch and stand up, automatically taking an earbud out as you turn to face them.

“Sorry, did you need me to move?” You question as you finally look up. You‘d had your most emo playlist blasting in your ears during your warm up, an attempt to process your feelings through movement or whatever that one instructor from forever ago had tried to teach you.

So of course it’s with perfect clarity that A. Jay Popoff sings “I am my own worst enemy” into the empty space between you and Seo motherfuckin’ Changbin.

Your mental plea for a normal, routine sort of day dies a horrible death when you make eye contact with the pop-star.

And you realize you really must be your worst enemy as you do, because you easily recognize the outfit he’s wearing and the vivid tattoos on his arm.

Of course your good deed for the day led you to one of your soulmates. Of. Fucking. Course.

You’re not sure what you’d done to Karma recently for her to be throwing all of this shit at you right now, but you’d appreciate it if she’d just let you apologize instead of whatever cruel punishment this is.

Changbin must realize you recognize him, because he shyly raises a hand to fiddle with his earrings as he replies.

“Ah, no, I uh...” The hand slides to the back of his neck and he clears his throat uncomfortably. You quickly school your expression back into a semblance of normality when he glances away. You feel like you might still be a bit wild around the eyes, though.

“I just wanted to say thank you.” He concludes. He looks like he wants to say more, but you figure he might not have the English words to do so easily. It’s okay, you don’t really have the Korean to describe how you’re feeling right now either.

Your first instinct is to offer to speak Korean for him, but the air between the two of you is already wildly uncomfortable. Vastly different causes for both of you, you’re sure, but it’s enough to make you second guess your every move.

“Oh, uh, no problem.” You assure.

You stare resolutely at his nose when you speak. If you look into his eyes again you’re sure you’ll spill your entire life story. And if not that extreme, you’ll at least spill the whole soulmate thing. Something about being directly confronted with your problems makes you chatty.

But also if you look away from his face, knowing that body is supposed to be compatible with yours... It leads to some very impolite thoughts. Cute as it is, his nose is the safest thing for you to look at right now.

You offer the idol a thin-lipped smile when you realize the interaction hasn’t ended. Dear god, why has it not ended?

“Anything else I can do for ya?” you offer, inwardly cursing your manners. You’ve lived here long enough that you know people outside your tiny country-side town take that as an invitation instead of a dismissal.

Sure enough, Changbin starts to speak again, his words slow and careful. You watch him wipe his palms on his shorts, idly wondering if he’s shitting himself internally as much as you are right now. And what he’s freaking out about if he is.

“You... Recognize me? Are you STAY?” He gestures a bit while he talks, like he’s trying to cast a spell on you to understand what he’s trying to say. You think it might work, because your mouth is running off without you before you quite process the words.

“Ahh.. hah, uh,” You chuckle awkwardly, your fingers rising to pinch your lips nervously, “My roommate is. We were at your concert the other day, actually,” And even as you say the words your eyes flick down to his arm. You refocus, hopefully before he could notice the quick glance, but you can’t stop your thoughts from spiraling.

After all, he didn’t have that kind of ink at the concert. You and Taylor were front row, right up on the barricade, you’d seen all eight Stray Kids up close and personal. You’d have remembered such a vivid tattoo. And there were only so many reasons to cover a sleeve like that so completely.

Something complicated settles in your stomach as you realize that Changbin is probably a ‘loud and proud’ kind of soulmate, if he’s showing off his mark like this outside of his work. Work you know prevents him from showing off his mark.

Your mouth keeps running without you while you have your little crisis.

“I didn’t recognize you at reception, I woulda had you sign something for him.” You can’t help the rush of embarrassment that sweeps through you, even as you laugh uncomfortably at your own joke.

Why on earth would you say something like that? This situation is already uncomfortable enough! On so many levels!

Somehow, this seems to have been the right thing to say, though, as Changbin’s eyes light up at your joke, the tension easing a bit.

“I can sign,” He suggests, “It would make me feel...” He starts gesturing again, looking for the word he wants, “Less bad?” He finishes like a question.

And suddenly you understand his awkwardness a lot better. It always sucks to feel indebted to someone.

You laugh a little more freely with your new understanding, “Oh, you really don’t have to,” You assure, “I was just joking.”

He shakes his head, “Think of it as.. trade.” He nods, satisfied with himself.

You bob your head to the side, pressing your lips together with a tiny, frustrated, whine, “I really didn’t want anything from you,” you insist, “I hold onto that pass for my roommate, but he never comes with me anyways. You’re doing me a favor using it, seriously.”

You try to speak slowly and clearly, taking a page from Changbin’s book and letting your hands roam while you speak. You hope your spell of understanding works as well as his did.

He takes a moment to respond, mouthing along to some of your words. It’s kind of fascinating to watch someone translate in real time, especially when the process is written all over their face. It’s a little surreal to be on the other side of it.

Eventually his face clears, and he makes a little ‘ah!’ noise that you really shouldn’t find as endearing as you do. You’re in the middle of rejecting your soulmates, you should not be finding one of them cute right now.

“If it is roommate’s pass, more reason to sign, yes?” He reasons, looking proud of his logic. You huff a tiny laugh at him, absolutely charmed.

“Sure, big guy,” You sigh with defeat, though you can’t seem to wipe the smile off your face, “Sounds like a fair trade. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

The two of you stall for a moment, the atmosphere leagues lighter than before.

When the moment seems over, you make a show of looking down at your pocket-less outfit, and then at the ground around you.

“I don’t have a pen on me,” you trail off meaningfully. He looks surprised for a second, like the possibility had never occurred to him.

“Oh,” He looks around as well, lost for a moment, “I can see if front desk has one?” he asks, like he’s looking for instruction. Another thought seems to occur to him then.

“Do you have...” He starts to gesture again, but you cut him off with a nod, fairly certain you’re sure what he’s trying to ask.

“Yeah, I’m sure I can find something for you to sign,” You point in the direction of the locker room, “I’ll probably have to look in my bag though.” You glance between him, the door to the locker room, and the door that leads out to reception.

“Meet back here in 5?” you propose. He seems content with this plan and nods in agreement. “Oh!” You stop him before he can fully turn around.

“Ask for a sharpie,” you instruct, “I’m not sure I’ll be able to find regular paper.” In fact, you’re pretty sure you’ll be sacrificing the spare ball cap you keep in your bag for this. You hope Taylor likes tie-dye.

With that, the two of you go your separate ways. It takes you no time at all to locate the bright monstrosity of a hat, a souvenir you abhorred from one of your father’s many ‘business’ trips. It would be no loss to you, but you take time to see if you have any actual paper around. You need the processing time.

Stars above, what were you thinking? There was no way you were getting out of this without another soulmate bond, but here you were, casually chatting with the guy instead of getting the fuck out of dodge!

You really couldn’t help it though.

Even when he’d been no more than a stranger to you, you hadn’t been able to help the way you gravitated toward Changbin. Now that you knew he was your soulmate, your actions made a lot more sense to you.

You’d always been on the people pleasing side of helpful, but vouching for a complete stranger was new for you. Even now, you were obediently grabbing an item for him to deface with a signature you don’t even want (no matter how thoroughly Taylor would murder you if you’d passed it up) just because you could tell how uneasy Changbin was with just accepting the visitor pass.

It didn’t help that the man was endearing as hell. Every little thing he did seemed cute to you, and you’d barely known him for ten minutes!

You felt like this was a new low for you. Doing things you didn’t really want to, for a man. Taylor would be so disappointed in you.

Having stalled for maybe far too long, you settle on sacrificing the atrocious hat to Changbin’s pen and put your stuff away. Something heavy and squirmy settles in your chest as you make your way back out to retrieve your prize from the man of the hour.

Surprisingly, there’s no accidental meeting of hands when Changbin autographs your hat. He did give you a bit of a bemused look for the choice of item, but you’d just shrugged at him. It was all you were willing to sacrifice, and Taylor should be grateful for even this much, in your opinion.

Unsurprisingly, the lack of first contact does not ease your mind at all. In fact, it rockets up your anxiety another thousand notches. You can’t help checking over your shoulder at every opportunity, despite the fact that Changbin hadn’t left the weights area since he’d settled there and couldn't follow you through the door to the rest of the facility regardless.

Look, you know how the whole first contact thing worked, okay? Fate would put two soulmates in the same place for whatever stupid reason, and find an even stupider reason for them to make skin-to-skin contact. You’d experienced it twice now, and you couldn’t help but think going out of your way to avoid everything Changbin was wouldn’t help you very much.

Even still, you can’t stay paranoid and vigilant forever. When nothing happens while you finish your cardio, or when you work your way through both the pool and the sauna, you admittedly let down your guard a bit.

Maybe that’s why, after you’ve made your way back to the front room to try and finish your workout, when you’re mid-stretch and staring daggers at a weight machine you’re sure you’ll figure out how to use if you glare long enough, you jump about five miles out of your skin when you hear Changbin’s voice behind you.

Jumping from such a precarious position is never a good idea, and your sudden movement has set your head on a one-way collision course with the gym’s hardwood floors about it.

Hands fly around your middle, catching you awkwardly around your ribs. Unfortunately, all this noble attempt to catch you does is slow your descent, giving you just enough time to flinch violently enough to bring your arms up and prevent your head from meeting the ground and brace for impact.

The rest of you still hits the ground pretty hard, and Changbin’s knees and elbows meet a similar fate, his own head saved by headbutting your stomach, knocking the air out of you even harder than it already had been.

The two of you sit there a moment, groaning with the pain of your fall. At least you don’t have a concussion. You’ll take every small mercy with the way the universe has treated you lately.

Some part of you is cognizant enough to give the heavens a heartfelt thank you when you notice that none of your aches and pains are from your soulbond activating. Somehow, through that entire debacle, and even considering the amount of exposed skin between your t-shirt and his, you hadn’t managed to touch. You’re still safe.

As the shock starts to wear off, you start to become aware of the warmth of large hands still resting heavily against your sides, both soothing and wildly distracting. It’s like every fiber of your being is focused on where he’s touching you, warm and weighty. Changbin’s head still buried in your abdomen doesn’t help with the building fluster taking over your brain.

You swear one of his thumbs has landed squarely on one of the flower buds directly opposite Lee Know’s Bellflowers, and the tingly feeling of the bond weakly trying and failing to establish through the thin barrier of your shirt is not helping your mushy brain at all.

You tip your head back to stare at the ceiling, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to prevent yourself from doing something stupid, like confessing all of your sins to Changbin right then and there.

Maybe you did have a concussion after all.

It’s probably been less than a minute since the two of you hit the floor, but it feels like ten hours have passed when Changbin finally lifts his head, wide eyes finding yours frantically.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” He asks, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, are you okay?” He uses his hold on you to gently lift you to a seated position, removing them in favor of hovering politely as he fusses. You don’t think he’s realized he’s reverted to his native Korean in his panic.

“I’m alright, I’m okay,” you assure him in the same language, “Just bruised a bit, I’m fine.”

He continues to fuss a bit more, running you through a quick series of concussion tests even after you tell him that you hadn’t hit your head at all. It’s only after he’s helping you to your feet, respectfully allowing you to use a clothed part of his arm to help yourself up, that he clocks the language the both of you are using.

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” He teases, “You speak Korean all of the sudden.”

You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you, nor can you help how his smug little smile makes your heart flutter. “I’ve spoken Korean the whole time.” You inform him.

“And you didn’t tell me? You just let me struggle?” The fondness in his smile assures you that he’s just joking, so you respond in kind.

“You were just trying so hard...” You shrug sheepishly and delight in the full body laugh that tears out of him. You wait for him to calm before you ask, “What did you need, by the way? I didn’t catch what you said before, well..” You gesture helplessly at the floor.

It’s his turn to look sheepish now, shoulders hiking up and a nervous hand making its way to his neck, “Ah, that.” he shrugs, “I was just saying that you had a pretty soulmark.”

The sudden compliment catches you off guard, and you suddenly become aware that your camisole has come loose from where it had been tucked into your sweats. Your hand flies up to cover the now-covered skin of your stomach, feeling sick.

You can’t remember when it happened, and the thought of however many strangers seeing your soulmark, no matter how little of it, sends a sharp note of dread through your body. You suddenly feel eyes digging into your skin, despite being covered again as soon as you’d stood up. You feel a bit sick, your skin crawling with discomfort.

You’re aware that your camisole would have ridden up to your lower back, at most, but there’s no telling how much of your mark anyone might have seen. What Changbin might have seen, what he may have noticed.

Changbin must notice your sudden pallid complexion, and continues on, trying to reassure you, probably. You barely hear him over the heartbeat in your ears, your trembling hands trying to discreetly tuck the undershirt back in while he speaks.

“I just meant that it’s very colorful and vibrant,” He explains, smile fading from his face as concern starts to cloud it at your reaction, “Whoever your soulmate is, they’re very lucky.”

“Ah, I don’t know them yet,” You counter. It’s even the truth. You hadn’t spoken much to any of your soulmates so far. Well, until now, you guess.

“Oh, well, I stand by what I said.” He asserts, his easy grin betrayed by the pinch between his brows, “Whoever your soulmate is will be very lucky to have you.”

“I don’t know about all that,” You tilt your head with self-deprecating consideration.

Maybe it’s a lingering guilt for how you’ve been handling your soulmates so far that makes you continue the thought, instead of laughing it off like the joke it should be. Maybe you just want him- want them- to know why you’ve been acting this way, “I don’t even know if I want to meet them, so I’m not sure how lucky they could be to have me as a soulmate.”

Changbin levels you with an absolutely baffled look, as if you’ve just challenged the very foundation of his worldview.

“Why not?” He asks, “Doesn’t everyone want to meet their soulmate?”

You wrap yourself in a loose hug, one hand rubbing soothingly at your elbow, and shrug, “I just... I haven’t had great experiences with soulmates, is all.” You can’t keep your eyes from straying to his soulmark, vibrant and full.

It’s an image that would be hard to elbow your way into, and you can’t imagine a way that the addition of you could possibly enhance it. It still feels unfinished to you, but it doesn’t look that way. You feel both better and worse about yourself, knowing that they didn’t need you.

A glance at Changbin’s utterly lost face has you opening your mouth before you can think about it, shoulders beginning to climb up to your ears.

“Not all soulmates get along, you know?” You mutter sullenly, almost to yourself.

Changbin seems to consider this for a moment, head tilting cutely to the side as he takes in your claim.

“I mean, sure.” He draws his words out slowly, carefully, with a little furrow between his brows. “Everyone fights sometimes, but you get through it together, right? That’s what makes you soulmates. Choosing to stick together.”

You couldn’t hold in the scoff and eye-roll combo that rips out of you if you’d tried. “Yeah, maybe.”

You’d feel bad about the venom in your voice, or the way it causes Changbin to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, but you can’t find it in yourself to care at the moment. Something sick and dark twists around your stomach, and the battle to keep a deep scowl from your face is the only one you’re willing to fight right now.

“I have a feeling that was the wrong thing to say,” Changbin smiles wanly at you, and you meet his eyes for barely a second before you find yourself melting beneath his earnest gaze. The thorns around your heart ease just enough to bleed, and you shrug at him again.

“When people stay together just because they’re soulmates it only makes things worse.” you tell him, “Nothing gets magically fixed just because you’re soulmates.”

Surprisingly, Changbin agrees easily, “Well, yeah, that’s not the kind of sticking together I’m talking about,” He explains, “I meant more, like,” He gestures as he tries to find his words, and your heart positively aches as you realize the habit transcends languages.

You find yourself softening more and relaxing out of your defensive curl out of sheer endearment. You’re sure you’d be making absolute heart-eyes at Changbin right now if the topic at hand wasn’t so deeply uncomfortable for you.

“Ok, let me try an example,” He eventually decides, his eyes following your gaze where it had once again returned to his soulmark without your permission. He flexes a bit, making the flowers on his skin bounce and dance with a small, fond, smile. “I’m soulmates with the other members, right?”

He says it easily, casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. You almost nod along, before you remember that the world at large definitely does not have that information, even if you do, and you meet his smug little smirk with wide-eyed shock.

You can’t help but gape at him for the casual confession, glancing around the empty gym like someone else might’ve heard Changbin’s brazen confession. He’s already waving you off before you can sputter out the questions stuck in your throat.

“It’s not a big deal, don’t worry about it. It’s not like we try very hard to hide it.” He does a weird little half-nod-half-shrug motion at his soulmark, “But yeah, we’re all soulmates, and we all pretty much knew before debut, even though Innie’s mark hadn’t shown up yet.”

You do nod this time. Slowly, though, as you try to figure out where he’s going with this. Changbin takes it as permission to continue, and so he does.

“Well, Jeongin’s our baby, and even though marks show up at 18, you’re not an adult in Korea until 19, so there’s a lot we had to leave him out on.” He grimaces a little, “Being an Idol is stressful as it is, throwing a new soul bond and puberty and all that on top wasn’t very helpful. We were all volatile and fragile. But Innie definitely took it the worst. He felt left behind and unfair and angry with it all.”

He chuckles and gives a little shrug, “We had our share of knock-down, drag-outs.” He admits sheepishly, “It wasn’t an easy time for us.” He rolls his head toward the ceiling and, despite Changbin’s efforts, you can easily spot the smitten look on his face along with his cherry-red ears.

“But we made it through,” He says softly, “We took the time to dig into all of his insecurities and find what we could do to help him. He made the choice to be vulnerable and honest with us. It took time to get here, but we made it through.”

Changbin meets your eyes again, “That’s what I mean when I say soulmates are about choosing to stick together. You work through the hard times and disagreements together, work toward something better. Soulmates are destiny, but love is choice.”

You let his words rattle around your brain as you get lost in his earnest gaze. Let the idea settle into you like something entirely new, like it wasn’t your understanding of healthy relationships beforehand. Of course that’s the ideal, you know that. No one is perfect and all that, everyone disagrees sometimes. It’s discussing it and finding solutions together that makes a partnership work long-term. You know that.

For the first time, you wonder if you’d just always considered soulmates an exception to the rule.

You’d automatically assigned soulmates as a concept a failing grade at working their problems through. Your parents certainly never worked out their issues, and every soulmate you’d ever seen in the media was an automatic happy-ending. As soon as that bond snaps into place, the story’s over. Happily ever after.

You’d always thought ‘ever after’ must be an awful short time.

‘Love is choice’ echoes through you like something divine.

You break Changbin’s gaze and offer him a half-hearted shrug. “I guess.” you concede, “My soulmates probably have a lot of work cut out for them with me, though. So I still don’t know if they’d want me.”

“I think it’d be worth the work,” Changbin smiles gently at you, “To be your soulmate, I mean.”

You feel heat rush up your neck and bless your genetics for keeping it from showing on your cheeks. You disguise your bashfulness by lightly slapping Changbin’s shoulder (and woah is he solid under your hand when you do) and loudly complain about him being a flirt.

He responds by doing his best to fluster you, clearly enjoying putting those fanservice skills to use. You complain with every flex and smoulder, especially when he starts unleashing the aegyo, and the two of you let the banter and laughter chase away the somber mood.

Eventually you settle, and Changbin nods at the very intimidating machine you’d been staring at what felt like a lifetime ago now.

“Did you need a spotter?” He offers. You hem and haw for a moment, before sheepishly admitting that you need a teacher more than a spotter. When he lights up and offers to be that, too, you can’t help the way your eyes travel up and down his body with open admiration.

He certainly looks plenty qualified, and really, you’re only a girl. If your once-over leaves him with red ears and a smug grin, well. You’ll consider it your revenge for now.

You very quickly realize your mistake in letting him coach you.

Changbin tours you quickly around various machines, explaining their functions and the proper ways to use them to avoid injury. All well and good, and you ask permission to record short videos of him doing so in case you find yourself forgetting his advice, which he graciously allows on the condition you don’t share them anywhere.

You agree after negotiating for viewing rights for Taylor, with the reasoning that the lure of the videos might actually get your roommate back into the gym with you. It makes Changbin laugh enough to indulge you.

And then he actually starts you on a machine, after getting a rundown on what you’d already done today, and you experience hell on earth.

The thing is, he’s unfairly good at coaching you through it. He keeps up a steady stream of warm encouragement and light jokes even as you curse him out for steadily increasing the weights on each machine you work through. He’s right there to help you through the sets the moment you start to get too tired and is almost preternaturally good at pushing you to only just above your limits.

And his hands are always right there. He’s almost always touching you somehow, throughout the whole thing. His touch is light, coaching and clinical, and unfailingly polite. Still, the warmth of his skin through your flimsy gym-wear feels heavy. Nearly threatening. Distracting, at the very least.

You’ll definitely need those videos later.

It’s a relief when it’s over. You’re sore and sweaty and you have to go sit at a desk for six or more hours when you leave, which you’re very much not looking forward to.

Changbin splits with you to hit the showers, but somehow you still come together again before you pass reception.

“Thanks for today,” you say as the two of you stall your goodbyes, “I had a lot of fun. You’ve more than earned that guest pass.” you tease, smile wide and mischievous.

He’s smiling too, even as he shoves your shoulder and complains about you extorting him.

When you run out of things to say, you shuffle lightly in place. It’s not like you expect him to give you his number, he is an Idol after all, but still you can’t quite make yourself leave. You find yourself casting around for something, anything, to say to make the moment last. To stay in his presence just a second longer.

You shake yourself out of it once you notice. You might not be running from them anymore, but you certainly weren’t trying to make friends with your soulmates. The longer you stayed in his presence, the more likely it was that you’d end up with another first contact.

At last, after a far-too-long moment of silence, you hold out your hand and offer a flat, closed-lip smile.

“It was really nice to meet you, Changbin.” You tell him sincerely, eyes locked on his. You swear looking your soulmates in the eye is some kind of hypnosis, the way you always get lost in them when you do. Something about it just makes you feel a tiny bit dumb, like your brain gets switched off.

“You too, y/n.” He agrees, reaching for your offered hand. You only realize what you’ve just done as your name leaves his lips, your eyes widening as they dart down to his hand and yours, but it’s far too late.

Your breath hitches a moment before his skin makes contact with yours, and you watch it happen in slow motion. He grasps your hand and pulls you in instead of settling for the more distant and formal farewell. All too quickly you’re settled into his grasp, completely enveloped in him and dizzy with more than just his warmth as soft prickles dance up your side.

You feel more than you hear him gasp, his hold on you so complete. Your head ends up on his shoulder as you stumble into him from his pull, and you get a front row seat to the top of his shoulder filling in with outlines and shadows from your place tucked against his neck, dull colors adding a definition to the images in his soulmark and settling like they’d always been there.

Distantly, you feel chest tighten with completion, with satisfaction and something smug and proud at the sight, even as your mind starts screaming.

Changbin is solid against you, comforting and almost stiflingly warm from both his workout and shower. You catch a whiff of his soap, the scent muting the alarm bells blaring in your brain even as you lay limp against him with the shock.

And then his hold on you tightens just a bit, only for a moment, but it’s all that it takes for you to break.

Your breath begins to hitch, visions of sweet touches turning sour and threatening violence causing you to flinch violently in Changbin’s comforting embrace. You feel your eyes begin to wet as you start to struggle, needing out, out, out.

It must have been less than a second, but Changbin pulls back, still holding you by your shoulders like he doesn’t know how to let go.

“Y/n?” He asks, voice small. You can only shake your head, breaths coming out in harsh gasps, limbs trembling violently. Changbin hurriedly lowers the two of you to the floor, much more prepared than you are for your limbs to give out halfway down.

He finally releases you as you settle and you curl tightly into yourself. The places where he’d held you feel frozen now, the cold viciously settling into your bones, even as Changbin does his best to get your attention and guide you through a breathing exercise.

You can’t focus on him though, the sensation of flowers blooming on your skin overwhelming, the memory of his touch both welcome and suffocating.

“S- ‘orry, I’m-” You hiccup, “I’m so- so s’rry-” If Changbin is at all put off by your sudden breakdown, he doesn’t show it. He just tilts his head and offers you hushed words of assurance.

“Nothing to be sorry for, y/n,” he assures, “It’s alright, just breathe, ok?”

He offers you a hand and you can’t help but take it, the warmth startling a breath into you that you hadn’t been aware you needed. Changbin guides your hand to his chest, instructing you to breathe with him, and you automatically focus on the heavy thump of his heartbeat under your palm.

He keeps talking to you, trying to keep your attention, but your mind spins wildly away from you even as you finally manage a deep inhale under Changbin’s attention.

You need to tell him that you’d known since he’d first spoken to you who he was. Who he was to you, even, but you can’t open your mouth to do more than gasp another apology. You’re sure he’ll hate you, leave you there on the floor of the gym to die like you deserve, especially after all you’d told him about how you feel about soulmates.

He’ll hate you for putting his soulmates through rejection, for refusing to speak to them or even look them in the eye. He’ll leave you here, humiliated on the gym’s floor, and you’ll deserve it because you’re a horrible person who wouldn’t even give them a breadth of a chance because you were too damn scared-

A hand grasps your spare one, the one not touching him, not keeping you just barely above the waves of hyperventilating, and you hadn’t even noticed it scrabbling at the stretched out neckline of your t-shirt until it’s gently pried away and guided to a wall of firm muscle.

Your fingers instinctively grasp what’s suddenly underneath them, and your vision stutters back in as a soft tingling rockets its way up your arm.

You distantly acknowledge that it was probably a bad thing that your vision had faded off with your eyes stuck wide open, staring blankly at legs you couldn’t feel. Right now, however, all you can experience is Changbin. His mark under your fingers, grip clawing and desperate. His heartbeat under your palm, faster than it should be, but steady and loud and feeling like it’s part of your own body.

Like he knows he has your attention again, Changbin ducks down to catch your eyes. You find nothing in them but concern and a soft emotion you couldn’t hope to pinpoint.

“Y/n,” He calls softly, “Y/n, do you mind if I touch you?” The gentleness he speaks to you with is devastating, like he’s trying to place your panicked mind on a cloud of care. You want so desperately to accept that care from him.

You nod, small jerky movements to indicate your agreement even as gasping sobs still stutter in your chest.

Changbin immediately moves, shuffling closer to you on his knees and releasing the wrist of your hand, the one still grasping at his mark like it’d disappear if you relaxed so much as a millimeter. He uncrosses his arms from the awkward reach he’d had to use to maneuver your hands where he wanted them, and reaches his now free hand to rest gently but firmly on your waist, right over his place within your own mark.

The resonance from his touch is weaker, the material of your shirt in his way, but with both sides active the feeling floods you in a way you could never describe.

You know, in the back of your mind, that you’ve read about resonance before. That you know all about the flood of endorphins and other feel-good hormones that it causes, that you’ve read first hand accounts from all sorts of people swearing up and down it feels better than any orgasm ever could. In the moment though, you feel like your brain has been reset completely. Back to factory settings, entirely blank.

You come back to yourself in slow blinks, resonance still echoing brightly between you and Changbin. Your one hand is still tightly clasped to his chest, and you’re sure you’re only breathing right now due to the steady rise and fall of Changbin’s chest. The two of you are still gripping each other’s marks.

You feel unsettled as awareness returns to your body. You feel floaty and not all there, even as you calm enough to feel the numbness of your legs and the pain in your knees from hitting the floor. An increasingly familiar tingling feeling is emanating from each of your active soulmarks, despite the fact that you know the other two should have no idea how you’re feeling right now.

Your bond wasn’t strong enough for that. You hadn’t given it the chance to be.

The thought that they might just be thinking of you gives you a soft and fluttery sort of feeling.

Finally, Changbin pulls back, removing his hand from your mark and sliding up your arm to gently pry yours from his bicep. You’d wince at the marks your nails had left on his skin if you didn’t still feel like your bones were vibrating on the astral plane from the intensity of a reciprocal resonance.

He gently holds both of your hands in his and settles them between you, catching your eye again.

“You back with me, bubs?” He asks, smile light and tone even. You’d think him unaffected if not for the redness of his ears and the slight haze in his eyes.

Right. Eight soulmates. He’s probably used to it.

He’s also trying to get you down from a panic attack, you remember as your hands begin to faintly tremble in his grip. You nod slightly at his question, apologizing again.

“Hey, no.” Changbin scolds softly, eyes locked on yours, “You’ve nothing to be sorry for, it’s okay. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

You shake your head in refusal of both ideas, opening your mouth once, twice, three times, before huffing irritatedly at the lack of words falling from your lips. Changbin squeezes your hands to keep your attention on him, expression open and accepting. His silence allows yours to end.

“I just- It’s just that I-” You breathe harshly through your nose, squeezing his hands back to ground yourself, “I knew from when I realized who you were that you were my soulmate.” you grind out in halting words, the trembling spreading from your hands up to your chest. You take in a shuddering breath, “That’s why I was apologizing. Because I knew and I still said those things to you.”

You can tell your confession takes Changbin off guard. The man blinks rapidly as he takes in the new information, slotting your earlier behavior against your reaction just now and having trouble connecting them.

“Soulmates terrify me,” you confess quietly, before he can ask, “You’re so nice, but you’re so fucking scary to me, I’m sorry.”

With that, you remove your hands from his, and Changbin just sort of helplessly lets you go, a lost expression taking over his face. You try to stumble to your feet, and he scrambles up to help you, caring even through his confusion.

You can feel the trembling travel to your legs, and you’re glad for his steady hold despite yourself. You feel like a stiff breeze might knock you over.

“I need- I- I’ve gotta- argh!” You clench your teeth with frustration, taking a deep, bracing, breath, before trying again. “I need to go home.” You’d like to say it came out strong and self-assured, but the words leave you in a breathless whimper that makes you feel small and pathetic.

Everything about this makes you feel small and pathetic.

Changbin catches your eyes again, brows creased in concern.

Except for him.

“Of course, whatever you need,” He assures, “Can I call a car for you? A friend? Your roommate?”

You shake your head, hopelessly endeared by his need to help you. You feel guilty for refusing him when he’d just pivoted from the bombshell you’d dropped on him to focus on your care but you- you needed to go home. You needed to leave, and it was taking every ounce of effort you could spare to keep from bolting.

“No, I can- I’ve got- I want- shit.” The curse spills from you unbidden, frustration with the vestiges of your panic refusing to leave you building sharply. If anything, Changbin’s concern only grows deeper as you struggle to express yourself.

“I need to move, I’ll walk.” Your mouth finally allows you to spit out, almost aggressively. Changbin almost seems to despair at your declaration.

Looking at your own condition, you can’t blame him. Trembling like a leaf and barely able to speak, you’d never let yourself leave if you’d been in his place. You can’t spare the energy to explain that if anyone tried anything at you in this condition you’d probably try to kill them first and ask questions later.

You don’t handle stress well.

Still, despite his obvious reluctance, Changbin lets you leave his embrace.

You’re more stable on your feet now, and a deep breath fills you with a facade of confidence that will see you home. Changbin’s hands still hover around you, as if waiting for you to shatter apart again.

“If you need anything, please call me, okay? Anything at all, please call me.” He pleads with you. You only manage to give him another tiny nod before you dip into a full bow and turn to flee.

Changbin watches you go with a face full of concern and confusion.

‘I think it’d be worth the work, to be your soulmate’ he’d said. You can’t help but wonder, as the gym disappears behind you, if he still thinks that.

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[friendlybowlofsoup]

Regarding the State of the Demo

Hello Everyone!

First of all, thank you to everyone who messaged me regarding the news of Dashingdon shutting down. I was so shocked to hear that a huge archive of so many works was going to disappear, and my heart truly goes out to the community who has thrived on that site for so long. It's so difficult as a creative to find a platform to host your work, especially if it's as niche as interactive fiction, so to see one place coming to an end is truly sad.

As far as GotRM is concerned however, thank you again to those who were thinking of me and my wip to bring this my attention. I have my own CS code saved on my computer, so nothing will be lost on my end, and for those who worried about losing the demo: I have decided to do a soft launch on itch.io!

This will unfortunately only be the prologue, since transferring Chapters 1-3 is still slow-going, but I hope this shows that I haven't abandoned this project and I'm still determined to bring this story to you.

As it is, school is still beating me up, so I'm not expecting to make much progress in writing until after March. However, if there are any questions (or issues with the new demo!) please let me know, and I will definitely implement them in the next update.

Thank you again for your continued patience, and I hope to see you soon!

LINK TO THE NEW DEMO

[ms-demeanor]

So there's this stucky fanfic blog (leave me alone, i hate marvel movies and like it when blonde men are bleeding; see also my recent interest in dungeon meshi) that I used to follow that had some major mod drama and basically stopped posting in 2020. I still get it as a recommended blog when I'm scrolling pretty regularly.

Here's what its archive looked like very recently:

Aaaand here's what its archive looked like starting November 3rd:

It is a compendium of the most absolutely rancid shitlib takes available and is going to be GENUINELY useful for a research project i'm working on because I periodically see these things float across my dash but I don't follow enough people who engage with these kind of posts to know what's a good source of them.

I only noticed it in the first place because it popped up as a recommended blog with a picture of trump, whereas normally when i see it recommended it's old fic or fanart.

Anyway, I'm torn between which of these two posts I scrolled past at a glance are my favorite. This one agitating about why censorship is good, actually and the government should ban tiktok (if you don't know why it's a bad thing to set a precedent that the US government bans the use of specific app I just can't help you, i'm sorry, even if you think tiktok is bad you shouldn't want the government banning apps) or this one that uses a Bill Maher quote that is explicitly about the hypocrisy of american civic religion to represent a group calling itself "The Christian Left."

First of all, Bill Maher is, essentially, a conservative and antivaxxer who thinks that Democrats keep losing because they're alienating their base by supporting things like universal healthcare (maher has cheerfully said on his show that he thinks we shouldn't charge taxpayers to make fat people healthy and that the best healthcare is a diet; he has also said a healthy diet is why people don't need vaccines, and you should skip the fast food to avoid getting the flu, and that vaccines cause alzheimers) and cancelling student debt.

Second of all:

As a very reddit-type atheist myself, I wish more people would remember that Bill Maher is not interested in christian morality, he is interested in pointing out hypocrisy as a cheap gotcha (and is absolutely uninterested in responding when people point out his own hypocrisy - he is a neat demonstration of why there is essentially no utility in pointing out when people's actions don't align with their stated beliefs).

Anyway, it's clear that the mod drama on a decade-old MCU fanblog was justified, thank you, unhinged mod, for the repository of liberal memes, and everyone, please please please accept that bill maher is a huge piece of shit and you don't want him to be the face of your movement.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

Sensitive.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!reader

Words count: 1300 (more or less, I added something just before posting it)

Warning: + 18, MDNI

Summary: You make Frankie come just by playing with his nipples. That’s it, that’s the fic LOL

Tags: pov second person, reader has breasts, nipples and hair, no other description of her is given, pwp, nipples play (YAS we play with the man’s nipples wooo), ice cubes, swearing, pet names (baby, honey), established relationship, dick pronouns for @sp00kymulderr’s challenge, kissing, Frankie obviously has a huge cock, I think it’s all? Let me know if I missed something and I will add it right away.

A/N: I've been wanting to do this for a while now because I'm a big fan of nipples (gender neutral, folks, we don't discriminate here, I can love a variety of them) and those Pedro pics yesterday uhm…inspired me lol English is not my first language, I have no beta, any mistakes are my fault, I’m so very sorry 💀

I also did it because every time I use the translator to check my English, whenever I type something nipples related, the translator always uses she/her and it pisses me off.

I hope it's not cringe, if it sucks pretend you've never read it, please, I love you all bye.

I started a tag list, let me know if you want to be added, thanks so much!

Archive tags: @pedrostories ♥️

Frankie has sensitive nipples.

You discovered this by accident, while you were in bed together after he had fucked you like a god. Your hand wandered over his chest and brushed against his areola. Frankie fidgeted, tried not to show it but the involuntary flinching of his body spoke for him.

He kissed you right after just before you could ask anything so you didn’t investigate any further but you were so intrigued by it. You kept thinking about the way he squirmed under your touch for days and craved to do something more for him.

You have a thing for nipples. For his especially.

Both because you love him and because they are delicious. You also don't like the fact that yours get all the attention while his have always remained two neglected little buttons on his chest while you’re pretty sure you could make good use of them.

Tonight is the time to change that, at least to try.

As you kiss on your couch his hands instantly fly to your tits, he massages them, squeezes them and as much as what he's doing drives you crazy you keep thinking that you would like to do something for him.

“Frankie” you breathe between kisses and he whispers on your lips “what, honey?”

“Nothing… it’s just…”

“What?” he interrupts you “did I do something wrong?”

You smile in front of his worried eyes “no, you’re perfect, really. I just…” you hesitate but in the end you spit it out “I would love to try something new”

Frankie smirks under his mustache “uh, what’s in that scrumptious little head of yours?”

You giggle, feeling your courage grow as you slowly run a hand over his chest still covered by his shirt, starting from his neck, down his collarbones and then his pectorals.

“I would like… uhm… I would like to play a little game”

Frankie’s eyes sparkle with curiosity mixed with excitement “you know I like games”

“Okay, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, baby” he says right away, brushing your arm gently and looking you sweetly in the eyes.

“Let’s go to bedroom then”

You stop in the kitchen to get some ice cubes that you put in a glass as he watches you, still confused but definitely aroused “What are those for?”

“You'll find out soon enough” you take him by the hand grinning, lead him towards your room which has now become yours and you have him stand in front of the bed.

“Take off your shirt” you order him “and your jeans”

“I already like that,” he chuckles.

“Lie down,” you tell him soon after, playfully pressing a hand to the center of his chest.

You place the glass on the bedside table and undress, remaining only in your underwear while he cranes his neck to look at you and licks his lips full of anticipation.

“My favorite view…” he whispers and you giggle, crouching on the bed right next to him “Now listen to me, you can’t touch me but I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Frankie sighs “okay”

“Can you behave for me?” you raise an eyebrow watching him ironically.

Frankie lets out a more convinced “yes” and you praise him “such a good boy for me”

You brush your fingertips over his chest again, going down over his sternum, then over his stomach and belly, stroking the thin strip of hair that disappears into his boxers. "I think he'll like this," you whisper, watching his half-erection rose from beneath the fabric.

“He’s looking forward to it” he nods with a crooked smile.

Of course he expects you to touch him right there, but your hand goes back up letting a little protest leave his lips.

You stop on one of his nipples and your fingers graze all around the areola.

Frankie squirms, widening his eyes, mouth agape “oh fuck, is that what you want to do?”

You purr “exactly. Can I go on?”

Frankie swallows air, his Adam's apple pops in his throat, then murmurs, “Go ahead.”

“Shall we bet he will come untouched?” You suggest.

“We’ll see. Don’t make him wait further, gorgeous, do your thing” he urges you.

You begin to caress his skin, moving closer and closer, Frankie watches you mesmerized as you feel his body tense under your fingers.

You rub his areola again and then pinch his nipple. He gasps loudly “Oh fuck”

“Everything okay?” You murmur.

He frowns noticeably and nudges “yes.”

You alternate between pinching and rubbing, feeling his breathing get heavy and shorter as his cock swells under his boxers. You shift only long enough to pull them down and expose his huge engorged dick to your view.

“So much better” you purr “I need to see him”

You return to your seat beside him and remove your bra, smiling mischievously at him. Frankie tries to raise his hand to reach out to feel you but you rebuke him, " Hey, no! You can look, but don't touch, remember?”

He blurts out, “That's not fair,” and you chuckle, “I feel like he's doing just fine anyway. The best boy," you tease him.

You take an ice cube and pass it over your lips, you suck on it lightly and small drops of water slide down your chin, you place it back into the glass as Frankie lets out a needy moan. His pupils are dilated and his lower lip quivers slightly, he is absolutely delicious.

You reach down and your nipples brush against him, “You can feel them like that, can't you?”

He sighs “yeah…okay”

You stick your cold tongue out and run it over his and he groans “oh baby”

You eye his cock rise higher and higher until it comes flapping against his tummy, hard and swollen and its pre cum begins to drip from the tip along its length.

Your tongue circles his nipple, again and again, then you flick it and you nibble it lightly and Frankie's back arches as he gasps, "Holy fuck, baby, you're killing me."

Your mouth and ice-cold lips stir all his nerve endings just as you expected.

You smile pleasantly impressed against his skin ”you like that, huh?”

“God, yes” he breathes “fuck”

He groans loudly when you detached, taking an ice cube again and sucking it between your lips, then lean over his chest to reach the other nipple as you continue to rub the other with your fingertips.

His chest rises and falls faster and faster as your tongue strikes sharply and precisely, your other hand resting on his arm to steady you.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop please I’m so close” he whimpers “fuck - just like that baby”

You continue until his cock is on the verge of bursting, then you move your hand to take it and finish him off.

“Come for me, Frankie, come on” you urge him “Give it all to me, baby” just like he does every time he’s in control and his response is immediate, he comes in your palm after a few strokes, long streaks of sticky cum painting your hands and his tummy as he whines.

You get between his legs to suck him clean, welcoming his cock between your lips and giving him what he wanted from the beginning after what he didn’t know he needed.

You suck him until he softens and then you lie in his arms, quietly enjoying his warmth. He is the first to break the silence, after kissing your nose and your forehead "damn, baby, you knocked me out"

You lift your gaze to his and smile "you didn't imagine that huh?"

"He didn't imagine it either," Frankie laughs.

"I told you he would like it" Frankie caresses your cheek and you reach out to kiss him, his taste still on your lips. "next time you play with mine while I play with yours" you coo.

He retorts, “just give me some time to rest and I’ll show you right away”

Thank for reading, I hope you enjoyed!

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed let me know if you want to be added or removed and I’ll do it right away ♥️

[marina-ate]

Hello! I see that you're accepting requests, would it be okay for me to request Arlecchino with a very affectionate reader, I'm a huge sucker for grumpy x sunshine dynamic especially if the characters are queer 💕

Thank you for taking the time to read this!

Your welcome! Arlecchino is my favorite character so I got excited when reading this request!☺️ give some advice in the comments about my writing style if possible!

Divider by @strangergraphics-archive

showered with love

Fluff! Arlecchino x fem!reader

Word count: 222

In her time as harbinger, Arlecchino has never been too fond of affection. Maybe once from one of the children who didn’t know the rules. But from a partner? She would have felt the same thing about it, if it wasn’t for you changing her mind.

On the first week of your relationship, Arlecchino was surprised when you’d give her a hug or kiss her cheek, she didn’t know how to react considering nobody has ever tried to get that close.

She would never move a muscle or get wary of you when you’d do those, knowing you didn’t have any bad intentions.

It took a while for you to realize how Arlecchino acted even when you showed her signs of slight affection. One day, you confronted her asking her if she was really comfortable, apologizing if she wasn’t and explaining your reasons why you were being close. She was stupid. She knew why

“Ah. I’m sorry if I brought you any confusion, you shouldn’t apologize.”

she walked in front of you, leaving no space between you and her. She snaked her hands on your waist, connecting them behind your back.

Out of nowhere, she gives you a little peck on your neck. Making you react to the stimuli by titling your head a bit. Laying her chin on your shoulder afterwards.

"I did this because I love you, so I showed you how I feel whenever you’re around me. With affection”

In this moment you felt all type of emotions, happy, relaxed and loved. Never have you thought you’d see this side of Arlecchino. You felt special.

[tinydefector]

MTMTE headcanons

Some of the headcanons I have for when I write stuff for the characters. So enjoy the silly little things I think about while writing these guys

Warnings: some have nsfw content in them

Words count: 3K

Masterlist

The Scientist 

- Perceptor and Brainstorm regularly have intense debates over various sci-fi shows and movies while working. 

- Rewind is secretly a formidable DJ and often Swerve has him doing music playlist for the bar. 

- Brainstorm insists on demonstrating his latest inventions at weekly crew meetings. Most of his devices are useless or end up causing minor disasters, to the annoyance of Ultra Magnus, it has resulted in multiple new rules being made . 

- Rewind is making a documentary about life on the Lost Light. Nobody realised until he released the "behind the scenes" cut that has Magnus and Megatron both drivking energon, “I hate this crew so much” Magnus huffs, “would you rather starscream?”.

- Rewind has amassed a huge secret stash of rare historical films, songs, and books that he pirates from other planets if its stuff he himself hasn't recorded. He'll only share them if you trade rare datafiles with him. 

- Brainstorm's experiments have caused more than one shipwide malfunction or strange phenomenon. Which resulted in having to contain the humans on board after realising it affected their skin in a way that the scent made The bots extremely horny. 

Cyclonus and Tailgate 

- Cyclonus is generally stoic but has a secret sweet tooth. He can often be found sneaking snacks when he thinks no one is looking. 

- Cyclonus has accumulated a giant collection of tiny earth souvenirs for tailgate but will never admit where they come from. 

- Cyclonus indulges Tailgate's interests just to spend time with him, 

-Cyclonus has taken to meditating in the engine room with drift to get away from the daily chaos. UnfortunatelyWhirl joins them every time to "help him find his inner peace" which mostly involves strange noises and objects flying by.

-Tailgate has become convinced the Lost Light is haunted after a prank goes wrong. Now he drags Cyclonus along on nightly "ghost hunts" which mostly consist of jumping at shadows. 

- Tailgate gets very excited about trying new types of energon goodies and treats he finds on other planets. Cyclonus has to gently remind him to pace himself so he doesn't get a tank ache. 

- Thanks to his small size, Tailgate can easily squeeze into small spaces to repair things or retrieve lost items. Unfortunately he sometimes gets stuck and needs help wiggling back out which has led to some rather spicy times for himself and Cyclonus. Occasionally Whirl. 

- Tailgate is an awful shot with firearms but tries to practise constantly. The other bots have to avoid being in the line of fire during his "target practice sessions."

- Tailgate tries so hard to act tough that he sometimes comes across more adorable than intimidating. The other bots try not to laugh...most of the time.

- Tailgate has become obsessed with human paranormal investigation shows. He tries to convince everyone to do a seance in the lower cargo decks and engine room, he forgot the sparkeater was down there. 

- Tailgate loves watching old earth movies with the human crew. Rewind is always happy to supply new films from his extensive archives or record them from the humans Movie, Usb and harddrive stashes. 

Ratchet & Drift

-Drift and Ratchet have started a betting pool on how long it will take for Rodimus and Magnus to get in a screaming match this time. Ratchet always wins, Drift enjoys it. 

-Drift is somehow the richest bot on the Lost Light from his days as Deadlock, he doesn't use his shanix on himself and only spends it on people he cares for. 

- Drift meditates regularly and has tried to introduce the crew to Earth wellness practices like yoga, much to their bafflement. He enjoys practising with the human members of the ship.

- Drift meditates for hours in the cargo bay and tries to spread his philosophy of peace. It doesn't always work on this crew of hassling madmen but he does try.

- Drift meditates frequently to find his inner calm. It's one of the only things that allows him to tolerate Rodimus' antics for so long without having a breakdown over the speedster endangering himself.

-asides from Rung *cough Primus cough* Drift is one the oldest member of the crew who wasn't statused, but no one can tell due to how well he looks after himself now, but Ratchet knows how bad he used to look. 

- Ratchet has a comm channel blocked nearly every night to "discuss medical matters” it's his line to bitch talk with Rung. 

- Ratchet has a secret ship called the "USS Nail-Him-To-The-Berth", which is a small shuttle solely used to stealthily transport Drift to remote planets for romantic getaways. Drift jokingly added captain's stripes to his arms without telling him, drift was in fact the one who brought him said ship as a job gift.

- Ratchet having a secret collection of badly written medical holodramas he'll never admit to enjoying. Claims it's just for "research." But many nights you can find him, Drift and Rodimus curled up together watching them.

 

- Ratchet grumbles about why he signed up to be a doctor for a ship full of unruly idiots but deep down he cares about them all. Even Whirl...sometimes.

- Ratchet has banned Brainstorm from the medical bay after one too many experiment explosions. Now he has to do checkups in the hallway.

Megaton 

- Whenever he's frustrated, Megatron mutters to himself in ancient Cybetronian. Unfortunately, a lot of the curses and insults have been lost to time so they just sound silly now to some of the younger bots, it nearly makes Rung freeze up hearing the old text.

-Megatron has stowed away in one of the escape pods when things get too much. He leaves a note saying he needed a break, and he tries to make himself as small as he can inside the pod. 

- Megatron has started joining Swerve at the bar after shift and they've developed a genuine friendship, though Megatron still pretends he finds Swerve annoying. 

- Megatron has developed a secret hobby of arranging tiny furniture and scenes inside empty energon cubes. He claims it helps him relax. Eventually some of the humans ask him to help with arranging their own furniture 

- Megatron has a secret hobby where he writes romance novels under a pen name. He's actually quite the romantic,  quite a few bots have read his work but he rather keep it under a pen name these days after the works he used to publish. 

- Megatron has taken to leaving sticky notes reminding Rodimus of the task he has to do. It doesn't always work but it has gotten Rodimus to remember a few things. 

- Megatron writes "broadly, deeply philosophical" in his captain's log, then spends an hour ranting about the merits of proper temporal coordinates and in the end both he and Ultra Magnus tend to both have rants over how bad Rodimus’ spelling is. 

-megatron always gets roped into babysitting whatever wild creatures Whirl and Rodimus find/rescue that week. On many occasions the humans have been left in his care against his pleads. 

- Megatron has started a small garden on one of the observation decks and finds the meticulous care of plants to be a calming hobby, it had become the food score for many of the humans on board and they are rather grateful to him for the hobby. 

- During movie nights, Megatron always ends up with either (Rodimus or insert) falling asleep on his lap. 

Skids

- Skids is clueless about his own strength and accidentally breaks things all the time like datapads or fuel cubes. He apologises profusely each time.

- skids gets way too invested in holodramas and movies, and yells at characters' bad decisions. The others gently tease him for it.

- skids tried exotic new fuel mixes in the hab suite's energon dispenser that usually end up glitching it. Swerve has to come and fix it. 

- His favourite Earth movie is The Fast and the Furious because he loves seeing high-speed races, but he can never remember the characters' names. 

- He once tried to make cybertronian energon goodies for humans and ended up nearly giving one of them food poisoning, Ratchet had to inform him humans can't consume energon.

- Skids volunteers to test out new gadgets from Brainstorm but often ends up as an unwilling test subject when things go wrong. He's developed a strange immunity to most sedatives at this point.

 

- Skids loves catching up on gossip and can always be counted on to have the latest gossip. He just may not always get all the details right…

Ultra Magnus/ Minimus Ambus 

- Magnus takes Rodimus' jokes and antics way too seriously and has trouble understanding sarcasm or joking around sometimes.

- He has an extensive collection of data pads cataloguing Cybertronian laws and regulations. He reads them for fun in his spare time. 

- Magnus gets distracted while trying to scold Rodimus because he's also trying to find the words to express how disappointed he is. 

- Whenever the Lost Light encounters something unknown, Magnus volunteers to write the official first contact report in excruciating detail, complete with footnotes and bibliography, most times he also needs the input from others to help with making decent impressions. 

- Despite his stern demeanour, Magnus has been known to crack a dad joke or two when he thinks no one is listening, it starts happening more often when Megatron and he are working together. 

- In a desperate attempt to loosen up, Magnus once joined Tailgate and Cyclonus for a night of drinking. He got absolutely overcharged and started doing karaoke. It is now part of Rewind's collection of Rare footage. 

- Deep down, he's a softy for romantic holodramas. 

- Somehow Minimus Ambus accumulates a massive collection of tiny human souvenirs like shot glasses and snow globes that he treasures. He meticulously dusts each one weekly. 

- In recharging moments, Ultra Magnus mutters equations and legal codes. His docking clamp also twitches in alignment with Enforcer protocols it's another rare thing that only (Megatron/ Human insert) know about. 

- Ultra Magnus has memorised and could recite the entire Great Charter of the Functionalists as it was something he did study mainly for knowledge. 

- Ultra Magnus has hidden photos of Rodimus doing ridiculous dances and lip sync battles with humans when he thinks no one is watching Proud Dad™️. 

Rung

- Rungs office is soundproof but sometimes Megatron or Rodimus can still hear him having meltdowns after appointments with certain patients. 

- Rung has a very rare high grade collection, some of the cubes are older than bots on the ship. 

- Old war stories give Rung flashbacks, and most times he has to walk away so he doesn't try and correct people on events he was present for. 

- Deep down Rung is a bit of a gearhead and loves helping Brainstorm in the lab, but don't tell anyone - it's his little secret joy.

-To help decompress after long therapy sessions, Rung knits tiny sweaters for all the human's onboard the Lost Light. Even made oen for Miminus, as other botss find out they start asking for small requested pieces from him. 

- The other bots have a gambling pool going on about how long it will take Rung to get fed up with Rodimus' antics and throw something at him. So far no one has won. 

- Rung had an impossible time getting anyone to show up for their therapy sessions until Megatron joined, now he seems to have a Very steady flow of patients, many with Ptsd. 

- Rung has redecorated his room with alien silk cushions and incense burning meditations pods. Crew members often visit just to relax and vent about ship problems.

-Rung never truly stopped being primus. It's just after so many millions of years, he's tired and he'd rather if people could just forget. His biggest fear is that one day he might turn out just like Unicron. 

Whirl

-Whirl is always stealing Rodimus' energon drinks and mixing them with high grade. Rodimus gets plastered and wakes up in weird places without remembering how he got there. 

- Whirl loves to sneak up on Tailgate and startle him for laughs. Cyclonus threatens Whirl with dismemberment if he doesn't knock it off. 

- Whirl starts an underground gambling pool for betting on who will be the next couple to get together. Nautica and Velocity are currently the frontrunners followed closely by (insert and Bot of choice).

- He snuck into Megatron's quarters on the Lost Light and messed with all his decor, moving furniture around and putting self-portraits of himself on the walls. To this day no one knows if Megatron has noticed and why nothing was said if he had.

- Whirl hacked the shipwide intercom to play love songs on repeat for a week straight. He claimed it was for "motivational purposes" but many bots suspected he was just bored.

- No one can prove it was him, but after one of Tailgate's game nights someone released glitter bombs all over the ship that took days to fully clean up. Suspicion fell on Whirl, it was in fact Tailgate who had gotten Whirl to make it for him. 

-Whirl accidentally joining every single one of Tailgate's hobby clubs and getting waaay to into each one, to the little bot's surprise. No one knows how to tell him he's in the sewing circle by mistake. 

- Whirl hits on everything that moves, despite constant rejections. He took getting thrown in the brig by security as a good sign once. 

- Whirl talks a big game and seems chaotic, but he is actually the most mature when it comes to looking after children. When one of the humans on board had a baby he became rather protective of them and their child. It also transfers over with sparklings (if/when) they are on the ship, he and Megatron are dubbed the babysitters. 

Swerve

- Constantly redecorating the bar to try out new lighting/theme ideas. One day it's a tiki bar, next it's a speakeasy. 

- Always bugging the other bots to join in games and activities at the bar. Usually ends up being the only one participating in crafts or dance contests. 

- Clumsy and easily startled. Accidentally breaks something in the bar at least once a week through spills or failed dance moves. 

- he Makes crazy custom drinks with wild synthetic engex concoctions. Often leads to strange/funny reactions in customers. 

- Endless list of nicknames for all the other crews. Brainstorm is "Sciencebot", Rodimus is "Hotshot", etc. Loves giving codenames. 

- Secretly a shipper and enjoys gossiping about who he thinks is into who. Always trying to play matchmaker between crewmates with whirl. 

- His favourite game to play at the bar is "Who Would You Rather?" and he always chooses the wildest, most inappropriate options to get a rise out of people, he loves hassling the humans over their strange biology. 

- Swerve is secretly hoping Megatron will one day ask him to be his personal assistant. He has the whole job role planned out because Megatron would make the best security guard. Swerve's bar fights would become such a problem that Megatron would consider said roll. 

- Swerve is convinced he's going to open the best bar/restaurant in the galaxy someday. He experiments with new fuel and engex recipes in the ship's improvised kitchen to the dismay of Ultra Magnus. 

- Swerve's bar gets rowdier each week as new engex flavours are tested. Merchandise bets and wild stories are the norm. 

- Swerve refuses to let Megatron stay in his bar without paying his tab in full first. But over time he starts handing off drinks to the old war lord.

Rodimus 

- Rodimus is constantly coming up with ridiculous dares to try and get Magnus to lighten up. So far he's had one of his human companions shot whipped cream at the enforcer before they bolted". 

- Rodimus is banned from the ship's engines after the sparkeater incident, mainly for his own safety. 

- Rodimus gets distracted easily during conversations and often trails off its Megatron who's the one who realises it and gets him a large figure toy so he can keep occupied while in meetings. 

- He doodles elaborate designs for new finish styles and ship paint jobs during important briefings and lectures, much to Ultra Magnus' chagrin. Megatron tells Magnus to ignore it because it's one of the only ways Rodimus seems to take in what is being said to him. 

- His habsuite is constantly a mess of strewn tools, parts, paint and upgrades. Drift tries to tidy it and just gives up. 

- Has started using ridiculous Earth slang he doesn't fully understand like "groovy" and "far out" just to get laughs. Drives Ultra Magnus nuts, the humans find it rather amusing watching him use it in the wrong terms. 

- Secretly loves 80s hair metal music but would never admit it. But he loves listening to it in his habsuite while working on things, he loves human music alot. 

- He tries desperately to be the cool, laid back leader but is constantly stressed and awkward. Inside he's a nervous wreck, worried that no matter what he does he's living in Optimus' shadow as a prime. 

- Rodimus stays up late watching Earth romcom movies and serial melodramas to get leadership tips, but mostly just ends up confused, he loves cuddling with (insert) as they explain the plot for him to make it slightly easier for him to understand. 

- He compulsively taps his pedes when anxious and doesn't realise he's doing it. Megatron is the one who normally send him away knowing that the more tapping the less Rodimus is listening when he's in this state. 

- His favourite Earth beverage is monster energy drinks, which the humans find rather amusing. (Energy Fluid au, he takes one mouthful and nearly spits it back out. “WHY ARE YOU ALL DRINKING TRANSFLUID!?!?” it leads to a lot of discoveries with *human insert*) He hassles them a lot with the promise of their favourite drink, no this dirty pervert instead just fills cups with transfluid and tells them that he has his own secret stash of monsters. As it gets around alot more bots start to get rather interested in how the humans had a drink that was pretty much the flavour of their transfluid. 

[bringthesauerkraut]

Welcome to The Late Night Archive! (UPDATED FOR 2025)

Hi! My name is Victoria, I’m a huge Jon Stewart fan (understatement of the century) & I am the owner of The Late Night Archive.

What is The Late Night Archive?

Its a big fuck you to Paramount basically. It's an archive of basically everything that Jon Stewart, Stephen Colbert, John Oliver, Craig Ferguson, Conan O'Brien, Trevor Noah (& as many other TDS correspondents as I can) have ever done.

After the online archive was wiped, there is now no longer an easy way for anyone to watch any of our beloved Late Night Hosts back catalogue. So, I took it upon myself to create a way for this to happen simply because I believe Paramount made a stupid fucking decision & thanks to my health, I have the time required to do it.

It's still a work in progress but I'm making really good headway on it & it will actually be finished at some point, but I am only one person so don't expect it to be done tomorrow.

*EDIT* I have actually had to split up the archive as due to new developments, there is simply too much for one archive now. 

I will link it when it is complete.

This blog will basically be used to post updates & clips of TDS/TCR/Stewbert etc that either do not exist on this site or have been removed because of the archive wipe. FUCK PARAMOUNT.

The other use is Jon Stewart thirst posts as I have been willingly doing his bidding since I first saw him late at night on BBC2 in 1997. Yes, I am indeed old lol. & British. Sorry 😆

So if there is anything specific people would like to see or just want to shout into the void about Jon Stewart, ask away! 😊

Use the tag The Late Night Archive to find all my videos/posts or use the ones below to find specific posts. (Reorganising - be finished by end of week)

POST TAGS

(some crossover between tags)

Jon Specific

Jon Stewart Thirst Posts (videos/text posts & dumb thirsty 4am episode commentary)

Jon Related But Not TDS (Jon Stewart Show/ The Problem/Misc)

General Collections

Random Daily Show Segments

Random Colbert Report Segments

Featuring John Oliver

Stephen Colbert Performing

TLNA Stewbert posts

Jon vs Fox News

Seasonal TDS Posts (Thanksgiving/Black Friday & Christmas)

Specific Collections

2010 Vacation Goatee Week

Jon's Lindsey Graham Impression (Aside from the two full segment ones, the rest are NOT listed in the Random Daily Show Segments tag - only here)

A Colbert Christmas Advent Calendar (These are NOT listed in the Random Colbert Report Segments tag - only here)

Colbert Super Pac Saga (in progress)

Anthony Weiner Saga 2011 -2013 (in progress)

The Glenn Beck Performance Pieces (in progress)

Gitmo the cuddliest prison detainee! (in progress)

Stephen & Jimmy BFFS for six months (coming soon)

Requests & Asks

Late Night Archive Requests

Full Episodes

Full Episode Links

(EDIT: Paramount came for ALL the episodes, sorry. There are google drive links under the pictures so you can watch them there. Because of this, no more full episodes will be uploaded here)

[mithrilhearts]

My takeaway from the past 24+ hours...

There are so many of us that rely on ao3, whether you're a reader or writer. It brings us joy, it gives us an escape from the real world, and it lets us come together as a community to share stories and scenarios about our favorite fandoms and characters. The amount of posts I have seen on multiple platforms lamenting over the DDoS attacks is overwhelming - but with most of them comes a delightful cheer to the volunteers working to resolve this issue.

I've seen so many statements of praise for those volunteers, which is exactly what they deserve, and more. Can you imagine working for over 24 hours straight, on a volunteer basis, against something like this? They're the real MVPs, and I think our appreciation for them gets lost until moments like this rise.

With that said, here is my first real takeaway...

Don't bitch when ao3 does a donation drive. They work hard to keep the archive up and running, and with that costs money. Every server, every new addition or feature you want to see added to help make the site better, it costs money. The legal team that is defending fanfic authors??? MONEY. SO! DON'T! COMPLAIN!

I'm not saying you have to go out and donate your paycheck to ao3 - but I will say that, especially with this situation, if you can donate even a little bit to show your support, it means more than you probably realize, and even if you can't donate (which is totally okay), be kind to those who work on the archive. Send them kind words of encouragement, rather than flaming the archive because it's under attack - because yeah, I've seen people bitching AT ao3 for not working fast enough, or for it still being down. STOP IT.

My second takeaway...

Don't believe everything you see on the internet. Ao3 themselves have advised that the group claiming to take credit for this attack is to be treated with skepticism. And not only that, let's NOT automatically make assumptions about who is responsible just because of an organization's name. It's just a NAME, it doesn't identify a person's origin, background, etc. But I'm not here to dive into that much further. Point: I better not see any Sudanese hatred on my dash, or I will bite you.

My third takeaway...

Treat your fanfic writers with respect. We all now see first hand how much we depend on these stories. As I said above, for some it's an escape, a creative release, and a way to communicate with other people through similar interests. It's a beautiful creation, neither above nor below any other kind of literature.

Consider commenting, reblogging, kudos, anything you can to let the authors know you enjoyed and appreciate their works. Everyone is free to communicate in the way that suits them best, but every little bit is appreciated - as a fanfic writer myself, I can tell you that even a little heart emoji has made my day. It's like receiving a second kudos, and tells me that someone appreciated my efforts enough to give me a double thumbs up.

Any form of communication with the authors is appreciated. It lets them know that people are genuinely interested. We live in a world where INSTANT GRATIFICATION is taking over, but creations such as this take time. Talk with the authors, ask them about their wips, tell them they're doing a great job. Do NOT pester about "when are you updating next?" or the dreaded AI option - again, I will BITE PEOPLE if I see you doing this. Just...have some respect, show your appreciation, it's more than JUST FANFIC.

At the end of the day I guess this post is about being kind. Not pointing fingers or slandering people due to a name. It's about appreciating the things we do have, and not taking them for granted. Whether it's the brave cyber warriors currently fighting these DDoS attacks on the frontline, or the authors writing for not only their enjoyment, but for others too. Let's all respect one another, and show our support when and where we can.

HUGE THANK YOU TO THE VOLUNTEERS AT AO3, YOU ARE THE REAL MVPS!!!

[normanssurvivalsite]

Handsome (Sanjixmale!reader)

Warnings: reader gets shot, nothing to specific though, mention of broken ribs.

*nightmare devil fruit*:

You can detect your opponents worst fears by touching them and can make illusions for them to see and live through it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bright red

That was every girls cheek the moment they laid eyes on your handsome face, muscular build and nice fashion sense which fitted your body perfectly.

You are handsome

Everyone pretty much agreed

Very stereotypically handsome and women notice that, and they swoon over you

And to top it all you have a very charming personality with a kind and attractive tone

You are what people might describe as every woman's (who is attracted to men that is) dream.

Even Nami and Robin admitted to how handsome you are, of course they didn't swoon Nami is a lesbian missing Vivi, and Robin was too mature for that.

You joined the strawhats in alabasta when you tagged along with Robin to join them since you worked under crocodile as well to archive your dream of making the world a better place, you wanted to catch the right time and stop his horrible plans but the strawhats showed up and did the job for you. You didn't know what to do after so you tagged along with Robin who you befriended at that time.

Since then wherever you went you went with them.

You loved the crew and made a very powerful asset as well with your natural fighting skills with your scythe and your nightmare devil fruit*.

Since you were part of the strawhats wherever you went it was with them and the ladies swooned over you.

Sanji hated that.

He hated that ladies payed attention to you instead of him, he hated that they got all red in the face and even more beautiful that way whenever they looked at you.

But he mostly hated that even he had to admit that he agrees with those ladies.

He agrees you are handsome.

He agrees your smile is the most calming thing he ever saw.

He agrees that your charming personality and kind voice makes his legs weak and his cheeks burn so red he thinks he and his heart might blow up.

Thats why sanji prefers not to be around you, you confuse him and make him feel...things he never felt, not just towards a guy towards anyone.

This however made you believe he hates you.

And you just couldn't understand why.

When ladies swooned over you, you never did anything.

You just continued to be kind not thinking much of it since you were obviously gay.

And screwed.

Because of course you had to fall in love with the most lady obsessed man on your crew who not to mention hates you (or so you think).

He was just so kind, and considerate. Of course his perviness could be reather annoying but even so he was still looking out for women and respecting them, which most man don't.

The same thing happened in Thriller park.

When Perona saw you after you guys were awakened by Usopp she got red in the face and whispered to herself "he is so handsome I almost feel bad for making him depressed" that pissed off sanji. Of course he thought Perona was cute, but she of course noticed you and you didn't even answer her.

The next straw was when he wanted to rescue Nami-san, you tagged along and Absalom looked at you and immediately thought you are a big threat his exact words were: "you, handsome, you came for my bride there is no way Im letting her see you"

He didn't know you were Nami's crew mate since you didn't have a wanted poster either.

That extremely annoying for Sanji since he wanted to be the knight in shining armor for Nami.

"OI LION HEAD IM GONNA BEAT YOU TO PULP"

Yelled Sanji to get Absaloms attention.

However Absalom attacked you first paying him no mind. Now you wouldn't have a problem defeating him however when he got close so you could attack he disappeared and that caught you off guard.

You lifted you weapon just in time to block his punch and gave huge thanks to your reflexes. While this was happening Sanji had a perfect opportunity to get to Nami and he knew your strength, he knew you could handle yourself. But he wanted to beat Absalom. He wanted to beat the pervert peeking at Nami-san when she was bathing.

So he yelled

"Y/N" in a very pissed off tone.

You snapped your head in his direction thinking he got hurt or anything of that sort with the way he yelled, you were worried.

This however got your attention away from Absalom giving him an opening which he took immediately and shot right towards your heart.

The bullet hit you and you fell backwards with shock painted on your face.

Sanji stopped.

His breathing stoppen.

Everything was playing in slow motion as you fell towards the ground with a bullet in your chest.

This was his fault.

If he had not gotten your attention away from your opponent you would not have gotten hit.

Sanji was feeling empty.

Even he didn't know what happened with his feelings.

The only thing he knew was you were hurt and he did not. like. that.

The moment your body hit the ground Sanji attacked Absalom kicking him so hard he passed out.

And then kneeled down to your body.

"Y/N?Y/N! Can you hear me?" He started to panic he did not want to lose you. He looked at your chest and he saw that the bulled hit just under you heart very likely not damaging your heart just breaking a few ribs.

"Sanji" you coughed out "Nami, Nami is getting take--" you coughed up blood not being able to finish your sentence. Sanji looked behind him and you were right. While he was busy worrying about you Absalom took Nami and disappeared, literally.

That is the moment Sanji realized.

He let Nami out in the open alone because he wanted to get to you.

You, the guy who had such an amazingly kind personality every girl who he claimed to want swooned over.

You who always smiled at him even if he didn't smile back or act just a little bit rude.

You, who offered to help clean up after every meal the crew had and even though he told you no every time (rather harshly) you still at least collected the plates and put them on the counter next to where he was washing the dishes.

You

He loved you

That is what he realized in that moment.

That was the most confusing thing to him.

How did he love a man?

"Sanji-" your raspy voice broke him out of his trance and he got to his senses you guys had to move or else there would be trouble.

-------------------------------------------------

After defeating Moria the straw hats celebrated. Not just the new victory but the new crew mate as well.

Sanji was in the kitchen preparing more food for luffy everyone. And you just can't shake the thought of what happened.

Sanji ran to your aid instead of staying by Nami's side and protecting her. In a way he choose you over Nami.

No, there is no way that's too far fetched. You just couldn't figure it out.

So there was only one thing to do.

Ask him.

Now this was trickier then it sounded.

With you thinking he hates you, approaching him was not easy.

But you had to do it if you wanted to get an answer.

Which you really wanted to.

So you stood up from your place next to Usopp and with claiming you will go to get another drink you were off to the kitchen.

Sanji was zoning out. Thinking about you. About how nice the button up shirt you were wearing looked on you and how it defined you muscles.

"Hey Sanji" you said stepping into the kitchen. He was still focusing on cutting meat and let out a "hmm" as greeting.

That did not help your already raging anxiety.

"I... great food tonight you did really great" this was quite awkward the way you said it however you did mean it. He said "mhmm" without giving you a glance and continuing what he is doing. Sanji did not mean any harm from this he just didn't want to look at you fearing a nose bleed.

"Anyway I was just wondering..." you were getting more anxious by the moment due to his cold demeanor. "Uhhhh" 'oh come on Y/N spit it out already he is already fed up with you' you thought to yourself.

"Can I ask you a question?" Finally better than nothing you are in it now there is no way out.

Sanji stoped what he was doing just for a split second.

"Sure" and he continued what he was doing

'Finally words' you thought to yourself your anxiety lowering just a little.

"Ok so... uhhh... its about what happened" pause "in Thriller park when we fought Absalom"

Sanji was confused. He already apologized for messing with your fight and for the broken ribs you suffered for it, he couldn't really look in your eyes from shame (you thought from hate), but he still did it. Not to mention you sounded nervous, why? At this point he put his knife down and looked at you (well kinda) leaning his back on the kitchen counter trying his hardest to prevent a nose bleed from your muscular forearms which showed because of your rolled up sleeves.

This of course just made you more nervous, you always thought he was handsome but when he looked right at you with his blue eyes you could faint.

"Well I was just wondering..." 'oh my god Y/N spit it out!' You literally yelled at yourself in your mind.

"Why did you come to my aid when you could have helped Nami?"

There it was, out in the open. Now he will either gat mad at you or you will get an actual advice, he already hates you whats the worst that could happen.

"Well..." he started slowly "I don't quite understand your confusion, I mean you were seriously wounded not to mention it was my foult--"

"No" you said cutting him off "I mean yeah it was kinda but it was my decision to look away and not pay attention so it was more my fault... but thats not what I mean." You corrected yourself quickly, then sighed.

"Look we all know how much you love Nami and for you to get to me instead of a lady who is Nami is just to weird--"

"Because..." started Sanji cutting you off "I..." he was screwed, he had no idea how to tell you why he did what he did without confessing his love to you which just got stronger by every passing day.

"I...don't actually know its just what I did it was in the past, it already happened so I do not see any need to discuss this any further" he said kind of hastily to rush the conversation along.

This hurt you. You knew he hated you but... well when does it not hurt when your crush just wants you out of his sight.

You turned around and were about to leave when

"Now, can you answer a question?" Asked Sanji in a calm tone. You were surprised to say the least. This was probably the longest conversation you guys ever had.

"I... uh sure" you were kind of happy he was not that fed up with you yet.

"Why do you never do anything about women swooning over you all the time?"

"What?" This caught you off guard, very much so, what did that have to do with anything?

"Don't play dumb you see how they cheeks get pink and how they look the other way giggling, why do you never act on that, with your looks and charm you could get any women in the world and I don't know how but you don't even do anythi--" laughing.

Your laughter cut Sanji off. It was a lovely laugh, he knew that he liked your laugh a lot. But why were you laughing?

"Sanji...what?" You asked flabbergasted, still chuckling a bit. He was just staring at you silently. That told you everything.

"Sanji... Im gay" you said with still an amused expression on your face.

OH

Sanji suddenly understood everything. Your good sense of fashion, your kind nature you being very good friends with Nami and Robin.

"And as for how Im charming" you continued to answer him.

"Im not" you smiled lightly " I mean you saw how anxious I was when talking to you the guy I like I mean you do hate me but still, Im not charming, the only thing I do is treat women... well not like a pervert and not like they are only boobs, and a pretty face, but like they are actually a person, which they are however men fail to notice that" you continued smiling, blissfully unaware of what you said at the beginning of your statement.

Sanji wasn't unaware however. He stopped functioning the moment you said you liked him and then his eyes bulged out of his skulls when you said he hates you.

"Hold on..." he didn't even know where to start.

"You think I hate you?" He went with that first

"Well based on the fact that this is the longest conversation we ever had, yes." You said dumbfounded still not aware that you confessed to him.

"I..." he felt really bad. You thought he hated you when in reality he just had feelings for you that scared him. "No, I don't hate you, not at all in fact..." should he do it? Well you confessed first so that made it easier.

"I like you... a lot, actually I kinda... sorta...love...you" and he said it. He confessed, real love, to a man, you.

Thats when you realized what you said, that you said you liked him. That you just confessed to the man you have loved since you saw his adorable curly eyebrows and silky blond hair.

You turned tomato red, Sanji chuckled at this finding you adorable.

"Ehh... wait, you love me?" You were short circuiting, this was not happening, but...how?

"Well... thats what I just said" he said not so sure of himself anymore. You just said you liked him but he already confessed his love for you. Now it was his time to turn red or he was about to when you leaped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"I love you to" you whispered in his ears.

Sanji hugged you back slowly, relishing in your sent.

When you two parted you looked in his eyes, ocean blue, you loved it.

"Uhh... before the urge to kiss you gets to strong I should probably tell you...uhh" stuttered Sanji

"This is my first...kiss...relationship?...or anything romantic with a guy--mmhhp" before he could finish you kissed him.

You kissed him.

Sanji was above every cloud there is. Your soft lips on his.

The way they moved against his, fitting together like puzzle pieces, it was addictive.

When you licked his lips to ask for entrance he gave it to you right away craving more of you. You sat him up on the kitchen counter while discovering his mouth with your tongue. There was not much of a fight for dominance since Sanji was dazed from kissing you. Since you needed air you slowly parted your lips from his and looked in his eyes.

You were both panting slightly, with red faces.

"So, how was that for first romantic experience with a man?" You smiled kindly again.

How could you kiss him like playboy and smile like a child with puppy eyes the next moment he'll never know. Thats just one more thing he loved about you.

Interesting how things turned out the handsome man he was so jealous of for all the attention he got from the ladies ended up his handsome boyfriend.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WHAT? IM NOT DEAD YET?

NO IM NOT HAHAHA

I actually didn't plan on my next fic being a Sanji fic but I got this great idea for him so I had too.

Also you guys didn't like my last Sanji fic😭

But thats ok I loved it a lot so😛

I love this man and to be hones I hate that cuz his perviness is annoying but I cant help it the heart wants what the heart wants kids remember that🫡

ANYWAY I don't know who or what my next fic is gonna be WE SHALL SEE WHEN THE CREATIVITY STRIKES ME🫠

Well I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies, gentlemen and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🧡🦖

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Hiii!!! It's me again lol

I was wondering if you can do a ror (Hades, adamas, Poseidon, and Zeus basically the Greek side) x child! Sister ! Reader

Basically the reader is the youngest sister of Zeus and his brothers

She was hidden away in the stars bc their mother did not want her to die bc of their father fearing that she may kill him

The reader is also the goddess of stars and wish granting making her a powerful goddess

She has this huge archives library basically marking down every important event in the human world, Valhalla, helhaim ect

Also the reader is scared of being attached to her brothers fearing that one they'll leave her so basically she just ignores them until they got into a big battle causing her to be extremely injured

How will they react to their little sister? Will they spend time with her? Are they willing to beat the shit out of the person who hurts her?

(P.s can you also maybe base the reader like the pic?)

Thank you! and have a good morning/afternoon/night!

-You were so scared of losing them again, after seeing your father eating all of them, except for Zeus who defeated Kronos. Your mother was able to hide you away since you were so small, hiding you amongst the stars until she knew you would be safe.

-Your brothers were fiercely protective of you, as you were so small, so delicate, dancing amongst the glittering stars above, but it made sense, as you were the goddess of stars.

-Your hair was both dark and bright, like the night sky, long flowing dark hair with bright glittering lights like stars, interwoven in your hair, and the stars never remained in the same place, waning and brightening like your stars.

-However, as you grew, your power was found to be immense, being able to grant wishes of those who wish upon your falling stars, making you a highly sought after goddess.

-Many tried to come to you, asking for wishes, not caring if you didn’t want to grant them because the wishes were selfish or dangerous, many threatening you when you tried to refuse which made you run and hide.

-Thanks to not only your brothers, but the other gods in the Greek Pantheon, you were safely hidden away in your massive library. You marked every instance of importance in history, both in Valhalla and on earth, leading to a massive archive, one where you knew exactly where everything was, down to what book and what page the information you or someone else was looking for.

-You were rather shy with others, even with your family, shying away from touches and hugs, shying away from public gatherings, which confused your family, many of them wondering why you were so hesitant to be around them.

-Their answer came from an unexpected place, Ganesha, whom became friends from you after seeing you reading and asked if he could read with you. The day you showed him your library was a day that your library was very loud with delighted squeals and laughter as Ganesha ran around, wanting to read stuff.

-After hanging around you for a while, Ganesha was stopped by Hercules, asking him if he knew what you were so shy. Ganesha smiled sadly, “She’s afraid of losing you all. Y/N said she watched her family be eaten when she was little and she’s afraid of getting close to you all because she doesn’t want to lose you against those gods who try to demand wishes of her.”

-The Greek pantheon was outraged to learn this, not at you, but learning of your fears, as you were only a child, and you tried staying away from them so they didn’t get hurt again.

-You were very noble, but Adamas, when he came to get you, “You’re pretty stupid!” his bluntness stunned you before you were quickly in tears, crying comically, which made him panic, kneeling before you, trying to console you.

-He picked you up, surprising you as he was so gentle, “I meant to say you’re stupid for worrying about us, we’re all stronger now. You don’t have to hide away to protect us- we’ll protect you this time, Y/N.”

-When Adamas arrived, late, to the tea party with you with the other gods, Zeus went to scold him before he saw you both holding ice cream cones, as he stopped to get you one as a way to apologize which caused laughter all around.

-Your whole family spent the afternoon doting on you, making you feel welcome and Hercules tossed you high into the air, making everyone panic, until you giggled, floating high above them.

-You were having fun, playing, but when Hermes accidentally kick the ball you were playing with a bit harder, sending it flying, you smiled, “I’ll get it!”

-You disappeared behind the large rose bush, looking for the ball, your head going back and forth before you saw it and ran over to pick it up.

-There was also a man, a mean god who had tried to make demands of you in the past and when he saw you, after you basically disappeared, he shouted, “There you are!” before grabbing your wrist, “You’re going to grant my wish! That’s all you’re good for!!”

-You struggled, tears in your eyes, “Let go!!” SMACK!!!

-When Poseidon and Hades, hearing the shouting, came to investigate, followed by Adamas and Zeus, they all arrived just as you were smacked hard across the face, going to the ground hard.

-The pressure in the air was immense as Zeus spoke, “You bastard!!” the god turned, seeing the strongest in the Greek pantheon now glaring down at him as he was still gripping onto your arm.

-Hades’ voice was icy cold, “What do you think you’re doing to our little sister?” the man was quick to drop you, trying to plead that it was just a misunderstanding while Poseidon picked you up, holding you close, your arms wrapping around his neck as you were trying not to cry.

-Ares approached quickly, seeing that you were fighting off tears and Poseidon spoke, “Take Y/N and tend to her cheek.”

-Ares held you as if you were made of glass as your four big brothers grabbed the offending god and dragged him off. The two of you stared after them as the god was pleading for his life before you spoke, “Big brothers are kind of scary.” Ares nodded in agreement but gave you a warm smile and took you back to the party where your cheek was healed up.

-Just like they had promised you- they kept you safe, returning about ten minutes later and you ran over to Hades who kneeled, hugging you as you made it to him, “Big Brother~” he chuckled, standing with you in his arms as he checked out his cheek, making sure you were okay.

-Zeus beamed up at you, making you smile, “Y/N is one of the Greek gods after all, the strongest in Valhalla!!” the other gods all cheered and you looked around in awe, seeing all these strong people, willing to keep you safe, because you are important to them.

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 11

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

I got promoted from dogsbody to pet and Roger gave me a nice collar—or choker.

However, on the same night, I did a thing that was just a short step away from something lovers would do, and am now in the midst of self-reflection.

(Wah…Roger never fails to drive me mad)

Ale: Arf arf arf.

When I raised my head from my depressive state, I saw Ale running toward me.

Kate: Ah, Ale. Haha, you’re awake? Good morning.

Ale: Arf…arf?

He looked at me in confusion as if sensing my distress through his animal intuition.

Kate: Hmm. Today, I still have to write my Fairytale Keeper report. After that…

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Would it be good or evil to make curses disappear from this world? You don’t have to answer me now. When it comes to you, let me know.

~~ End flashback ~~

Recently, the almost lovers act between Roger and I wasn’t the only thing on my mind.

(The question Roger assigned me that day…)

(Currently, I don’t know enough about “Cursed Ones” to answer it)

Kate: I’m going to have to ask your owner about this, aren’t I?

Ale: Arf.

--

After submitting my report to Victor, I knocked on the lab door with Ale in tow.

Roger: Oh, why’re the two dogs together?

When I approached him, he tried to pet both mine and Ale’s head, so I ducked away.

Roger: Oh, rebellion.

I ignored him and bowed my head.

Kate: I have a favor to ask. Please lend me some of your research material on “Cursed Ones”. 

Roger: Hmm, my research material? These documents are like my life. Let me hear what you plan to do with them first.

Kate: Currently I don’t have enough knowledge to find the answer to your question. Even if I’m only here for a short time, I’ve met Crown and would like to take this seriously. I want to know if it’s good or bad for Crown to be cursed. I wanted to come up with an answer myself and record it as Fairytale Keeper.

Roger: …You’re the kind of girl who’s considerate of the minority.

Roger turned around and collected all his research material on Cursed ones from his desk and bookshelves—

Roger: Here. I don’t mind leaving these with you.

Books, files, and even slips of paper were all placed in my arms.

Kate: Wow, thank you so much! …But, is all this okay?

Roger: What, all that boldness earlier was just for show?

Roger smirked as if to challenge me, provoking my competitive spirit.

Kate: No way. I’ll get through all this in no time!

Roger: Hmm, then I’ll add to it. Here.

Kate: Ugh…

He dumped more materials and my arms started feeling heavy.

Roger: Broadening your horizons by learning what you don’t know is also a of strength. If you can get through all that, I’ll promote you from dog to assistant. Well, maybe the naive lil’ lady will get her heart broken…

Don’t underestimate me +4 +4

Are you trying to make me mad?

I’m capable

Kate: Please don’t underestimate me. Promise me that.

Roger: And promise me that you won’t get your heart broken. Don’t come cryin’ to me about it later.

(Geez…)

I stumbled out toward the exit with a huge stack of material in my arms.

Roger: I got high hopes for you, Kate.

Kate: …

I glared at Roger as he opened the door and left the basement.

Ale: Arf!

Ale had followed after, but then stopped and looked at his owner.

As if to say, don’t be a bully.

Ale: …

Roger: …He probably thinks Kate’s one of his own.

As he closed the door, Roger’s shoulders shook with amusement—

--

After leaving the basement, I headed toward the garden.

Kate: Let’s read outside for a change of pace, Ale.

Ale: Arf.

I sat down in a chair and started to go over Roger’s research material.

(If I remember correctly, Alec’s research materials were confiscated by the police)

(That means all of this was done by Roger)

The huge amount of material in Roger’s handwriting showed the life he spent doing research.

Kate: …I’ll read this all carefully.

And so I turned the first page on the research materials—

(A “Cursed One” is someone that’s been cursed since birth and has nothing to do with genetics)

(And I believe it’s innate, not acquired)

(Meaning, I believe that being cursed is an “individual” mutation)

There was a huge amount of material based on hypotheses and testing, and results based on those tests. Every time I turned a page, I was surprised by new facts.

As I looked over everything so as to not miss a thing, one sentence caught my attention.

Kate: …A “‘Cursed One’s’ tragic fate can’t be altered. In the past, there have been no exceptions.” Huh…?

There was something scribbled on the edge of the document.

“The more I learn about curses, the more ridiculous it gets.”   

“It’s like God’s whim and it makes me sick.”

This scribble among the clinical data brought forth Roger’s true feelings. For a moment, I stopped breathing.

He had begun his research on Cursed Ones as a child, and to this day, still hasn’t found a way to erase them.

(It’s…so absurd)

His way of life was quite like being in the dark, walking alone without knowing what lay ahead.

Ale: Arf arf.

Suddenly, I heard Ale’s barking and looked up.

Kate: Woah. What’s wrong, Ale? Is it Roger?

When I looked in the direction he was barking at, the owner of the footsteps appeared.

Ellis: Sorry, not Roger.

Kate: Ellis.

Ellis: I thought I’d give Ale a treat. Roger told me he was with you.

He offered a steaming mug to me.

Ellis: Hot milk for you.

He wrapped my hands around the mug and the warmth I felt seeping through the ceramic brought a smile to my face.

Kate: It’s warm…Thank you for your concern, Ellis.

Ellis: I wanted to make you happy.

Saying what he’d always say, Ellis patted Ale’s head.

And then—Ale’s paws were clapped together.

(Ah, Ellis’ Briar Bushes ability…)

Ale: Arf?

Ellis: Sorry, I’ll unbind you. “That’s enough”.

(Ah…)

~~ Flashback ~~

Alec: …Thank you. —”That’s enough.”

~~ End flashback ~~

In an instant, the images I had pictured in my head overlapped across time.

(Alec’s and Ellis’ abilities…are the same?)

(That means—)

I thought back to a sentence I read in Roger’s research materials.

(“Even if a Cursed One dies, the curse itself doesn’t disappear”)

(“After the Cursed One dies, the curse will reappear after some time”)

(“Humans with the same curse can’t exist at the same time”)

(If that’s the case…Then the one with the “Briar Bushes curse” after Alec is Ellis?)

As I thought over it, a finger poked at the space between my brows.

Ellis: It’s the first time I’ve seen you make a face like that. Kate, you’re starting to resemble Roger a bit.

Kate: Huh…?

Ellis: Hehe, your expression was like his just now.

Kate: What kind of face?

Ellis: Like a child completely absorbed in their thoughts. I heard from Roger that you’re studying about Cursed Ones. Is there any way I can help?

Ellis leaned forward and looked at me.

Kate: Then…Can I ask about how you and Roger met?

Ellis: Sure.

Ellis’ twilight-colored eyes wavered a bit.

Ellis: …I met Roger before joining Crown. I was already working as Jude’s assistant, but even back then, he attracted a lot of resentment from all sides. One night, Jude got stabbed with a knife and was brought to Roger’s father’s clinic. Roger was helping out at the clinic at the time—that’s how we met. So, back to the story. At that time, Jude asked Roger instead of his father to perform surgery.

Kate: Why?

Ellis: The reason for Jude’s injuries was so dangerous that the average doctor refused to treat him. However, Roger wasn’t licensed at the time and was looking for hands-on practice.

Kate: Um, so…a mutual convenience?

Ellis: Mm, pretty much.

(M-meaning he performed the procedure without actually being licensed at the time—)

(Let’s just pretend I didn’t hear that)

Ellis: Jude got injured a lot, and after that moment, Roger would secretly treat him… So I started going back there often. Roger looked really happy when he found out that we were Cursed Ones.

(No doubt he was as happy as when he met Alec)

My chest tightened as I thought about the boyish smile he’d sometimes have.

Ellis: It happened on a night Jude got injured… While Jude was asleep, Roger and I were making small talk. That night, I was listening to him talk about the time when was investigating whether Al was cursed or not.

Ellis stared off into the distance like he was trying to recall a memory.

~~ Flashback start ~~

Ellis: So this “Alfons” made you eat shoe polish cream?

Roger: Yeah, it was an illusion. That’s when I realized he was a Cursed One. But in exchange… Every time I eat cake, I remember the taste of shoe polish cream.

Ellis: Hehe, that’s a pretty big price to pay.

While they were laughing, Roger suddenly looked at Ellis.

Roger: That reminds me, I haven’t seen your power.

Ellis: Ah…maybe? Then…I’m sorry if it surprises you a bit, Roger.

Ellis touched the top of Roger’s head.

Then…his hands were clapped together as if in prayer.

Ellis: This is my ability. As for Jude, if he pokes your forehead— 

Roger: …O_O …Alec.

Ellis: Roger?

Roger: Ah, it’s nothing. It’s been a while since I last had an ability used on me so I was surprised. Ellis, you have the “Briar Bushes curse” don’t you?

(...Alec and Ellis really do have the same curse)

Ellis: …Why did Roger look so sad when he learned about my “Briar Bushes curse”? Not only that, sometimes he’ll make this face when he sees me.

(...It’s not my story to tell)

Kate: Really now.

Ellis: But I don’t want him to look sad, so I never asked about it. I want to make Roger happy too.

Roger had seen what would be Ellis’ last moments with his own eyes, so that’s why he doesn’t want him to go down the same path as Alec.

(I can’t say that avoiding that ending will be easy)

~~

Roger: I wanna make curses disappear from this world.

~~

The voice in my chest resurfaced, gripping at my heart.

Kate: …I’m certain just talking with you will make Roger happy.

Ellis: Really? Enough to kill him?

Kate: Y-You can’t!

—Ellis’ curse seemed extremely complex.

--

Over the next few days, I finished reading through the huge amount of material Roger had given me.

(I’ll go and borrow medical books this time after getting changed)

(Some medical knowledge could help me understand Cursed Ones better…)

That’s what I thought at the time.

Roger: Kate, I got good news. A new Cursed One may have been found!

Letter | Next

[roguishcat]

Honeycomb

Summary: Astarion had a brilliant, fool-proof plan. And nothing, especially not a piece of honeycomb, would get in the way.

A/N: My brain is running on almost no fuel. There probably are mistakes and misspelled words. Kindly tell me if you notice anything. ❤️I would like to make this into something longer in the future, maybe finally try my hand at writing something steamy. Would anyone be interested in reading something like that? Let me know.

Tags: sexy Halsin, annoyed Astarion, some suggestive themes.

Pairing: Astarion x female Tav

Oneshot, 1.2k words

Set in the beggining of Act II.

She was doing it again. Staring at that- that huge oaf of a druid as if he was the most fascinating thing ever.

Astarion scowled. The problem wasn’t even that she was attracted to Halsin. Because one would have to be blind or a complete liar to say that the druid was nothing to look at. What annoyed him that the druid could command all Tav’s attention after she had a taste of what Astarion had to offer. Having spent a mind-blowingly amazing night with an earth-shatteringly gorgeous vampire, Tav should not be eye-fucking others around the campsite!

And yet she was. Granted, she was not the only one who could not look away. Even Shadowheart seemed to be enjoying the show, murmuring something to Karlach which had the tiefling nodding and licking her lips.

And how did it start you may ask? Well, it started with a piece of honeycomb.

Tav, being the sweet, caring, lovable fool that she was, worried that Halsin did not feel welcome when he first joined them. They were fast approaching Shadowlands, meaning that they would soon leave behind the lush greenery of the forest in favour of the grim dangerous landscapes of the cursed lands near Moonrise. Although the thought was unsettling for everyone, Tav was worried about how a druid, whose comfort for some reason that Astarion could not possibly fathom mattered to her, would fare being stuck among all the death and destruction.

And what about Astarion, hm? Did she think about him? Oh, no! Because apparently he was not at the top of the list of her priorities. And that was… irksome. And Astarion showed that he was annoyed in the healthiest, most obvious way possible. That is, ignoring Tav and brooding. Which for some reason was not getting quite the reaction that he was hoping for.

But yes, the honeycomb. He did digress.

Tav found a large piece in the afternoon and proudly presented it to Halsin with a radiant smile, who accepted the treat with thanks, his fingers brushing Tav’s as he took it out of her hands. And therein lay the problem.

Halsin’s fingers.

Because apparently no one told him that one was not meant to eat with his hands, especially in such a scandalous way!

Halsin’s hands were sticky with honey, fingers glistening in the light of the fire as he sucked each digit clean like a man starved. Tav was transfixed, blush dusting her cheeks, spoon suspended in midair because she forgot that she was, in fact, eating in favour of the pay-per-view show that she had the front seat to.

Astarion gritted his teeth. Surely the druid could not be that oblivious? Surely he was doing this on purpose? Well, whatever his game was, Astarion could not allow this to continue. Because no matter how dishonorable his intentions for Tav were, he was definitely not done with her. And he would not be done with her at least until she and the merry band that called her leader marched into the city, slaughtered Cazador and defeated all foes that got in the way of their de-tadpoling. Then, and only then, he would think about dismissing Tav. If he so chose.

With that in mind, Astarion grabbed a bucket full of water and marched across the campsite, making his way for Halsin. It was time to put a stop to this.

“There. You might find it easier to clean up this way, hm?” he mocked, thrusting the bucket into Halsin’s hands.

“Thank you, Astarion. How thoughtful of you,” Halsin nodded, confused and not quite understanding what got the vampire so annoyed.

“Anytime,” Astarion huffed, pivoting on his heel, and making his way towards Tav, who finally noticed that the stew dripped off her spoon and onto her lap.

“Tsk, such a messy pup,” he scolded playfully, “why don’t we get you out these dirty clothes and into something more comfortable?” he leaned closer to her ear, letting his breath ghost over the shell.

His breathy invitation was quite lost on her, however, as at this moment Halsin chose to pour the water onto his head.

It was Tav’s squeak and wide eyes that made Astarion snap his head in the druid’s direction, ruby eyes narrowing as he released a growl at the sight that had Tav’s undivided attention.

Rivulets of water running down pectorals, getting caught in the grooves in the skin between the rolling muscles, and then down, down, down-

“Why does that druid never seem to have a shirt on?” Astarion hissed, finally having enough of this, and grabbing Tav’s hand to pull her away and towards his tent.

He could distinctly hear Karlach’s raucous laughter as the tiefling caught on to what got Astarion’s panties in a bunch, followed by amused sounds coming from the other companions. Astarion could not quite bring himself to care because he knew what his priorities were. And right now, it was high time to remind a certain someone what her priorities should be. Namely him and his needs.

Tav almost tripped as he shoved the flap of his tent aside, pulled her in and made sure the cloth slid back into place behind her. He, unlike certain someone, did not need an audience.

“Astarion? What happened? Is everything okay?”

Oh, that poor, oblivious, sweet idiot. If it were anyone else, he would be quite sure that she did all that on purpose, just to get a rise out of him. But not so. The look she was giving him now was genuine. All the more reason to keep this powerful, yet oblivious creature under his thumb.

“Nothing, darling, I am quite well. Just hungry, that’s all,” he purred, advancing on her step by tantalizing step, eyes locked on his prize.

“Oh! Of course! Sorry, today has been a lot, I forgot to offer,” she pulled the fabric of her collar aside to bare her beautiful neck to him, the imprints from the bite left after his previous feeding still visible.

Astarion licked his lips and pressed his mouth to her skin, delighting in the shallow gasp that she gave at the contact.

“As alluring as your neck is, my sweet,” he swept his tongue up the column of her neck and lay a tender kiss on the bitemarks, “I hope that there is more, much more on offer tonight.”

As he sank his fangs into Tav and felt her blood flow onto his tongue, Astarion soon found himself grinding against the swell of her ass, the hand that was not holding her in place sneaking to caress her breast. Which was when Astarion had to remind himself that he was doing this just to keep Tav on his side. It was simply a matter of convenience. Nothing more, nothing less. And this was certainly not something that he had to keep reminding himself of more and more as they progressed on their journey.

And yes, perhaps bedding Tav has been quite fun. She was a vision, with her cheeks flushed, lips swollen from kisses parted as she moaned his name sweetly into the night. But that was just a perk. Why shouldn’t he enjoy himself a little, given the opportunity?

Yes, his plan was flawless. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

💖 Tag list 💖:

@ninty900, @ayselluna, @dajeong, @ravenswritingroom,

@misscrissfemmefatale, @clazberryk, @anukulee,

@preciouslittlebhaalbae,

@sh3rl0ck, @mellowenthusiast2299,

@fleetstreet78, @starlight-rogue,

@obsessedwhyyes, @arzen9

[annabtg]

AnnaBtG

My permissions statement My works

@jilyawards favourites:

Nom De Plume (46.5k). Jily, no Voldemort AU. Completed, rated E. Favourite Canon Divergent Long 2024. Rec'd by @charmsandtealeaves, @joyseuphoria and @practicecourts.

James Potter, renowned potioneer, has a secret side career as an erotica writer under the pen name of Scarlett Goldwing. When his latest book starts to take off, and Scarlett is asked to promote it at a public event, he has no other option but to recruit his colleague Lily Evans to pretend to be Scarlett. The only problem is, Lily Evans hates his guts… or does she?

Fixed Luck (1.3k). Established Jily, angst, no happy ending. Mind the tags! Completed, rated T. Favourite Angst 2024. Rec'd by @abihastastybeans, @kay-elle-cee and @tedwardremus.

The books warn: excessive intake can cause giddiness, recklessness, and dangerous overconfidence. But good luck is addictive.

crawl home (877 words). Jily, everybody lives AU, hurt/comfort. Completed, rated G. Favourite Microfic 2024, Favourite Canon Divergent Short 2024, Favourite Angst 2024. Rec'd by @practicecourts.

He doesn’t know if he’s alive or dead. All he knows is that he wants to go home.

Readers' favourites (below the cut):

AO3 Is Down (1.4k). Jily, Muggle AU, humour/fluff. Completed, rated T. Rec'd by @joyseuphoria and @tinyluminaryzombie.

AO3 Status: Delayed emails have been sent out and the Archive is back! Thank you so much to our sysadmin james_ for interrupting his sleep to work on and monitor the situation.Inspired by this very real Tweet, an alternate universe where the sysadmin is James Potter, and Lily Evans is his supervisor who had to drag him out of bed so he could resolve the problem.

The Chaperone (7.5k). Jily, Petunia Evans, Sirius Black, canon. Completed, rated T. Rec'd by @casquecest and @plecotusauritus.

When Lily's father won't let her go out alone on a date with James, she has to resort to desperate measures: make it a double date with Petunia and Sirius.

Afterlife (microfic series, 1.1k total). Gen, James and Lily-centric. Rec'd by @nena-96 and @practicecourts.

James ships Harry/Ginny | Brother | Enemy | Unforgiven

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On a sunny day after the Defence Against the Dark Arts OWLs, Lily Evans finds herself in a fight with her nemesis - until James Potter interferes.

Are You Experienced? (12.7k). Jily, canon, fluff. Completed, rated T. Rec'd by @abihastastybeans.

James Potter decides to ask Lily Evans to a Muggle live music show. This noble mission, however, requires a series of steps he is entirely clueless about: from procuring the tickets to finding the correct outfit, and most importantly, to spending an evening with Lily Evans without making an absolute fool of himself.

Customer In Law (6.2k). Jily, Muggle AU, fluff/humour. Completed, rated T. Rec'd by @joyseuphoria.

James Potter is young, handsome, the proud owner of a coffee shop, and tragically - according to his mother - single. In an attempt to stop her from trying to set him up with her friends' daughters, he decides to go along with his best friend's plan and recruit his regular customer Lily Evans to play the part of his girlfriend during his mother's birthday party. Of course, the fact that he’s got a huge crush on her is entirely irrelevant…

Do It Right (1.1k). Jily, Hogwarts. Completed, rated T. Rec'd by @joyseuphoria.

James Potter has had it with Lily Evans. Sure, she's brilliant and gorgeous, but ever since they started working together as Head Boy and Girl, she's been bloody annoying. To her, it seems like he's always doing the wrong thing - and she's just about to show him how to do things right...

Inescapable (4.6k). Jily, canon, soulmates. Completed, rated T. Rec'd by @joyseuphoria.

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The Lady Of Kini (963 words). Jily, mermaid!Lily AU. Completed, rated G. Rec'd by @practicecourts.

She has lived alone for centuries, keeping watch over the coast, patroness of fishermen and sailors - till the sea teams up with the west wind to claim the life of a lone young man.

If you read my works, please feel free to send me asks or messages to add or update your recs!

[chaifootsteps]

i think the dragon fucking thing is the dumbest shit people have gotten on you for because there really truly is no real world equivalent to it. like yeah lizards exist but the biggest ones are about the size of a small or medium sized dog, and all without what likely makes a dragon sexy to you! which is the huge size and sentience and the sharp teeth and all that good stuff! it's just monster fucking to me. because what else is it comparable to?

also i honestly just feel like people want to have their morally right opinions in a community built upon critical analysis that talks about how problematic certain things are in these shows to a sometimes excessive degree for cartoons about demons in hell, while ignoring all the genuine good you've done for helping vivs actual victims speak out and have a voice/platform, to make them feel better about their critical voices, because you dont just. complain that viv is a bad writer who botches adult topics in her adult shows like a femcel 14 year old on wattpad. (although you still do that and it's absolutely warranted because she does, i just feel like part of the reason people feel comfortable coming to you is because you're honest about who you are and what you enjoy in fiction, you're mature enough to understand morality in fiction vs morality irl and the difference between it, and obviously the fact that you're an anonymous voice who can easily archive this info for years to come compared to other websites. and to me there's a major difference between the stuff youre writing and the stuff vivs writing based on scale and audience. you aren't going to make anyone want to fuck their pet lizards, but vivs certainly given lots of people a warped idea of consent and why someone should be harassed if you look at her likes.)

anyway, this ask was kinda long and i dunno what else you could contribute besides a thank you, so if you feel like it, could you give a list of the top 5 fictional (i can't believe im saying fictional because DRAGONS ARENT REAL,) dragons you'd bone in a heartbeat?

Thanks, Anon, I appreciate it! <3

I think it's one of the more unsettling things they come at me for, because let me tell you, the idea that dragons = bestiality came up out of nowhere. A couple of years ago, the big trend in art/writing online was sexy dragons as the preferred love interest for princesses, and it was everywhere. And then, suddenly, they were problematic and I was getting 19 year olds arguing with me that it was "against federal law."

That weird thing you like, even if it's considered utterly vanilla today? I promise you, it'll be next. It's already starting to happen with anthros.

I think liking weird fictional things openly and unabashedly, and being able to argue in favor of why you do, is important. I think it's normal, human, and makes it makes everything safer on the whole, and makes it easier to root out the actual creeps.

But yes! Dragons!

Draco, my second major fictional crush. The first was The Beast.

2. Smaug.

3. Paarthurnax

4.Ventuswill

5. Literally every dragon daddy in the Spyro Reignited Trilogy. That game had me sweating.

[farolero-posting]

I recently made a present for @anndrag0n inspired in the Project Golden Clover AU. I hope you all enjoy!

Start of a Project

Words: 3.5k

Summary:

Cedric makes a trip to the library.

Cedric recalled a quote from one of his father’s journals as he entered the library, just as someone with a coffee mug for a head left the building, slightly bumping on him and cursing under their breath.

“As much as I wish reading was encouraged, I am grateful to find an empty corner in the library to let myself travel along the pages of many volumes.”

Such was not the case when Cedric walked in that evening. Though, he was relieved to find that it was emptier than during the evacuation, a week prior.

When he thought about it, the amount of recovery the world had achieved was huge, compared to how slow and troublesome the decay had been. Considering how much work was put into trying to fix all of it to no avail until salvation arrived… Well, important sacrifices were made. HIs father gave his life to see this project through. Everyone contributed their parts, too, faithful that one day the last piece of the puzzle would fall into place. He understood that once they got to the root of the problem, things would flow much better.

It still struck him as surreal to witness the aftermath, and see the end of the world (this simulated version, at least) becoming a thing of the past. The library no longer needed to be a shelter for evacuees. In fact, those injured by squares had recovered in full mere minutes after the sun was restored, according to the newsbots in the city. Many points in the city also lost their corruption, and in the next few hours, most traces of any catastrophe were gone.

People prayed to the operator’s name to show their thankfulness. Cedric knew the truth was far more complex than that, but he could share the sentiment. At least, it meant most residents would find some explanation that already fit into their worldview for everything they had experienced.

He really wished the creator behind all of this could see it, witness his sacrifices paying off, maybe know the world his children now inherited. Get him a happy ending too. That was his eventual goal, deep down.

A small crowd gathered around the book club zone, the writing on the whiteboard read “New book from the Author: Encyclopedia of underground minerals”. Cedric walked past it, not giving it a second glance. He recognized the title, and though his father did make some contributions, the book was really more of a shared project between many others in the community. Many of the late world encyclopedias were shared projects by scientists not particularly interested in individual gain.

He wondered if any of the actual main authors was around… not that Cedric would recognize them at first glance.

He wished he had been more present in his father’s work.

Holding a library card, he approached the bookbot in place.

“Er.. Greetings!” He smiled, as he placed the card on the front desk, but the robot didn’t take it. “Is the head librarian on her shift?”

“Affirmative”, was the robot’s flat response. “Do you wish to speak to George?”

“Yes, I do. I wanted to—”

“Allow me to call her.” The voice communication system on it activated, as it rang a number. It always sounded slightly too loud for Cedric’s taste.

“Please, I can just go to the archives directly instead…” he whispered.

“Library card required for further access.”

He felt bad being inpatient with robots, especially untamed ones, but he let out a huff after a few awkward seconds.

“I have my card here…?” Cedric offered it again. The bookbot took it, but didn’t read it yet.

“Please wait until the current task is completed, the phone is still—” the beeping stopped, and a raspy sigh from the other end was followed by a loud slam. “She hung up.”

“I can see that…”

“Humans are not able to see phone signals.”

“The phrasing wasn’t…” Cedric cut himself off, looking aside nervously, as the bookbot stared back neutrally. There wasn’t much of a point in insisting. “Nevermind. Can you read my library card?”

“Affirmative.” Its eyes scanned the barcode with a red laser, as it muttered its usual phrases. Then it stopped. “My system indicates there is an infraction, Mr. Cedric.”

He froze.

“Infraction registered: trespassing of restricted areas, unauthorized book retrieval, dated six days ago.” Its voice then became extremely fast and barely discernible. ”Disclaimer: this infraction has been added automatically by our robots based on observed behavior and has been linked to your face due to its facial recognition system, you can dispute this claim by…”

He sighed, not being able to keep up with the speed.

“I will settle it with George, I believe that’s what she’d prefer us to do. I’ll head upstairs, if you let me…”

“Carry on.” The bookbot pointed behind it, and then returned to its usual activities.

Cedric walked up to the Head Librarian’s office home. He noted that the room before the entrance had a few copies of the new book sitting on hastily put shelves. He guessed that some of the library workers would pick them up as needed.

The door had a printed sign on it, taped to the wall, and with a blue circle drawn several times around the message.

“PLEASE KNOCK ON THE DOOR BEFORE ENTERING. USE YOUR MANNERS!!!!!!!”

Cedric followed the instructions, giving two measured knocks. He waited for about a full minute, before he did it again, bracing himself. He had an idea of what sort of person he’d run into.

The door opened right after he knocked.

“You know only one time is enough, right? It’s not like this office is that big, I hear PLENTY from outside.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! I just thought you—”

The dice headed lady stepped aside, and gestured with her arm for Cedric to walk in as she huffed, and the air between them was so tense it could snap at any moment. The room seemed messy, like she’d just dropped a manuscript and was trying to pick it up.

“Will you walk in? Or did you just come here to distract me for no reason?”

“I’ll… go in. My bad.” Cedric stepped inside, and closed the door behind himself, with the head librarian watching him intently. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss. To meet you properly, I mean.” He extended his gloved hand.

“It’s probably not, kid, but I’ll take the manners.” George extended her own hand, shaking his with a weak grip. “What’s your name?”

“It is Cedric.” He noticed the librarian’s hat was about to fall off one of the edges of her head.

“Did you come here because of the new book? I can’t talk to the Author if you wanted to meet him. And I think I left plenty of copies outside for you to look at. Just please tell me I didn’t miss a typo.”

“Oh, no, not at all.” Cedric reached for his bag but George interrupted him.

“Thank goodness.” She sighed, still standing near the door. “I keep getting calls from the receptionist about it and I’m so done with them all. Most of them are just… people thinking it’s my job to receive fan mail.”

“Is that why you hung up?”

“I did?”

“Y… yes? Two minutes ago?”

“Ah, right. Yeah, that’s probably why. See? It gets repetitive.” She shook her head and yawned. “Do you have issues with your library card then?”

“Actually… I suppose I do? I got flagged for an infraction.” Cedric took out one of the books inside his bag. “I wanted to return this book I… borrowed… the last time I was here.”

George took the book and stared at it, then back at Cedric.

“Are you telling me you’re—” The two points on her front face shrunk in surprise. “You’re that one kid! You gave us all one heck of a scare, you know that?”

He bit his lip. “Did I?”

“You went out into a dangerous zone in the middle of an emergency! You should be glad I’m too tired to lecture you about that.” She picked the book, looking through its pages for any signs of tear. “I guess you did what you needed to do, huh?”

“Indeed.” Cedric watched as the librarian took the book through a scan. “I’m… sorry for getting in here like that. I wanted to say that to you directly.”

George tilted her head to the side, and her points on her face moved upwards. Was she rolling her eyes?

“I know a guy who apologizes over everything. I’m still waiting to see if he dares to send any new manuscript for me to edit and say sorry about it, as if he wasn’t giving me a reason to have a job.”

Cedric didn’t respond, perplexed.

She continued: “I don’t care about apologies for things you would’ve done either way. I’m just glad my hard work wasn’t wasted because there’s no other copy of this book and I’m not letting anyone else touch it, unless it’s Kip.”

“I assume you refer to Dr. Kip Silverpoint? Why she?”

“Well, duh? I know nothing about robotics, but the Author insisted he wanted this book to be really detailed and she’s like, the closest expert I know.”

Cedric stayed quiet, unsure about what to add.

“You’re not getting me to talk more by staying quiet, by the way.” She walked back towards the entrance, now holding an empty coffee mug. “Is that all you need from me? Can I get a break?”

Cedric’s grip on his bag tightened. He wouldn’t want to bother her… Oh how he wished they had gotten into a different version of their universe. He was, admittedly, a little intimidated by this one.

“Cat got your tongue?” Case in point.

“No…! No.”

He felt like shivering. This was going to be a terrible idea.

George walked towards the door. “So… nothing else to do here, alright!” she announced. ”You can leave now!”

But he had to.

“I… have some books I want you to look into.”

He took out two journals. One was found at the entrance of the room the messiah left, right as they went into the center of the World Machine’s engine. The only item that was dropped upon entering.

The second journal had been found in his dad’s study, unlabeled. Neither Rue or Proto commented on it. Unfortunately, it seemed like its data was encrypted. Cedric knew a few languages his father would use in some of his writing, but he was never taught this one, and wondered if it was some kind of restriction from the simulation. And if that was the case, he wondered why he wasn’t exempt from that restriction.

"Why do you think I should look into them?"

"I believe you're... the only one capable of reading what's in them." Cedric pressed his lips together, trying to find the right wording for the librarian. "I hear you're... proficient in deciphering other languages."

"How complicated could it be? I probably have many dictionaries you could use so you could do it yourself. You don't even need to pick them from the archive, just borrow it like usual" George crossed her arms.

"To be clearer... Maybe I should show you."

As he pulled the books, George rushed to grab one. She flipped a few pages, faster each time.

"Of course." She muttered, a groan growing as she went. "Of course he would do that! And I guess it's my job, as always. Not like anyone else could figure out what this language even is!"

Cedric stepped back, and wondered if maybe he had chosen a bad day.

"How did you get this?"

"The... messiah had one of them. They left it when they finished using it, I assume." He felt the scalp covered by his hat itch, but he restrained from reaching there. "The other was a manuscript I got from... his study.

"You went WHERE?" She practically yelled.

"Ah! Well. I... have known him for... a long time? I am sorry, I did not mean to startle you."

"No, no, I'm super fine, completely normal." George placed a hand on her face. "I've been working for him for what may as well my entire life and he gives me CRUMBS about himself. Like I read everything he publishes but there's no way to guess much about his life. I know nothing, except he hasn't been talking to me for almost a month."

"A month? That's quite a while." He noted this was about the same timeframe other people had given him. Something in it matches some kind of event.

"Right? Either he's preparing some colossal bomb of a book to drop on me, or he's dead." Cedric couldn't help but frown at that.

"I'm exaggerating, kid."

"My name is Cedric..."

"Yeah, yeah. Oh." George took another look at him, then checked his library card. "I've seen your name before."

"Uhm... what?" It was his turn to be surprised.

"Here." She led him towards a manuscript she was working on. "The book I'm editing now has your name, it has a loose note. I assume he left it there and didn't take it out before sending it here."

"May I take a look?"

"I mean, knock yourself out, it's not much."

Lying next to the book, a note simply read:

"This book contains many progress sketches on variations to the flying machine. I apologize if this is too much to ask, but do restrict access to this book to a few select people, as ethical use of these blueprints is advised."

The short list contained his own name, along with a few other names that looked smudged, so he couldn’t read them.

How... disappointing.

He almost expected something more personal. A letter to him, a travel log dedicated to him, maybe some warm message, a book dedication, an apology. Instead it felt like he was trying to subtly hand him a book with a task to do. Finish what he started.

He felt mean, as the words crossed his mind. It just… wouldn’t really represent how he feels. Cedric knew he was loved deeply. He knows his father cared about him. He knew that, during his life, he did his best to protect Cedric and his siblings from the exposure he had. Cedric knew his father did his best to protect their integrity within this simulated world, even if it meant to be distant, to speak in code, or through subtle hints. He knew he his father wanted to pass on his legacy to them.

He looked further into the book. A sketch showed a model of the flying machine made to fit more people, and a few notes on how to properly compensate for the additional weight. Another sketch showed the learning curve for piloting, and Cedric was surprised to see, an albeit very simplified, depiction of him on those pages.

His dad probably wrote some notes while training him.

The Author’s son left the manuscript where it was before, and approached George, who seemed to be complaining about damaged books.

“Are… you alright, miss?” He was both afraid to ask and interrupt her, and not asking and making her feel neglected.

“Don’t you know translation takes time?” She didn’t bother to look up. “I’ll finish it off in a few hours, just go do something else.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean for you to do it right now! My deepest apologies.”

“Too late, I’d rather do it now before I forget.” She wrote something down on a notepad. “This is gonna cost you, though.”

“I… suppose I can do a few things in return?”

“You’re gonna get me a… parfait from that one cafeteria at Glen level, the one by the clock tower. I want the one with extra caffeine.”

As Cedric was leaving, she added.

“Oh, and you’re gonna tell me about the Author, because there’s something that’s been really bothering me.”

“I’ll… do my best.”

Cedric walked away, closing the door carefully. He sighed in relief, and tried to shake off the awkward feeling building up in his chest. He felt his body drained of energy, and the sensation that, no matter what he said, or what he thought, he would make some kind of mistake he would have to fix.

He went behind one of the buildings, into a path of narrow alleys. He found the only tree in the area. Rue wasn’t there, as she was visiting the Glen for the day. Even then, she spent more time near his apartment, wanting to spend more time with company, rather than alone.

Someone walked towards the tree, and stopped at the entrance.

“Cedric.” A copy of the messiah spoke, with a somewhat distant voice.

The spirit of the world.

“Uh… hi! I wasn’t expecting you here.”

“I am everywhere, you know this.” They slowly walked in, an holographic hand reaching for the wall. “I find it difficult to pilot this projection inside this one room. I have yet to clear this area from my creator’s restrictions.”

“Why are you here?”

“I keep trying to restore things. But it’s not the same.” They sit down, burying their face in their scarf. “I keep looking for any bits I can find, except it’s not enough to make it look as t was before.”

“You’ve been doing a great job, actually! I was thinking about that earlier…”

“I’m only undoing my damage, Cedric, I don’t need praise or your thanks.”

“But… well…”

“I saw you talking to the head librarian,” they continued. “And it gave me an idea.”

Cedric wouldn’t lie that he would much prefer to not be seen when he’s being such an awkward ball of nerves.

“What would your idea be?”

“I want you to go look in there, and help me find things to fix. He left things about the world in those books, didn’t he?"

“Oh well… there are plenty of things in there.” Cedric rested his chin on his hand. “We would have to look through all the encyclopedias, and his travel logs and…”

“I already went through the contents of the library.” The hologram smirked. “But I need someone to filter it.”

“Why?”

“I don’t recognize his writing as well as you or the others do. I understand information, not authenticity.” They looked away from Cedric. “And… you knew the real world better than I did, right? So you’d be able to help me test it.”

“I… see.”

Saying he “knew” the real world felt like a wrong assumption. Cedric was merely a teen, and a reclusive one at that. He wasn’t sure how much potential this plan had.

“But why me? Wouldn’t the other two be more helpful?”

“You have already established a connection to the head librarian. You can keep going, and help with this.”

“I’m not… sure how helpful she’ll be.”

“You’re getting journals translated from her. She’s helpful in ways I can’t directly intervene.” The World Machine tried to grab a pebble on the floor, but their hand phased through it. “There are several restrictions on me at the moment. I’ve been slowly overriding them, but at least it seems that my creator left some key characters, er, people, to do certain things I can’t.”

“I think I understand. I’ll do what I can.” Cedric pressed his lips, pensive. “I’m not sure… but, do you have any idea what those journals have?”

“I refused to read them, back then.” Cedric frowned, thinking back on all the times the World Machine refused to engage with them all.. “I hope I can bear to read them this time.”

“I really miss him, you know?” Cedric looked away. “I… never felt him so present until I saw his study. There’s gotta be something in there.”

“Maybe.” The projection wavered. “She’s almost ready. The librarian.”

“Oh! Has it really been that long?” Cedric stood up, dusting off his clothing. “I should get going!”

“Cedric, before you go.” The spirit walked towards him, handing him a parfait, fitting the description he was given some time ago. “You shouldn’t forget this.”

“I was almost in very big trouble! Thank you!”

“Remember my request.”

The spirit faded.

When he returned to the library, the light around him was getting dimmer. Despite this, the place didn’t seem emptier. The concept of evening wasn’t yet clear for most residents of the world. Cedric made a quick stop to show his library card and go to George’s office.

He knocked on the door once, and waited patiently. George called out to let him in, and the librarian rushed towards him, grabbing the drink in his hands.

“Now this is the payment I deserve.”

“Did you… finish?” Cedric stood on the tip of his feet, trying to see what was on George’s desk.

“Yeah, I’m done. First journal was actually meant for the god. It looked like some… instructions to get inside the tower. The rest was torn apart. It was like this when you got it, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Some pages had the word ‘solstice’ written on them, but they were just sketches.”

“Oh! That makes sense then.” Cedric nodded, and accepted the notes George had left in the journal. “What about the second one?”

“Here’s the other part of your payment.” She pressed her hand down on the journal. “You know more than you let on, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Are you his kid?”

“Uh… how did you reach such a conclusion?”

“This journal.” She stared at him attentively. He stepped back. “It’s the only explanation for the stuff inside, and the way you got this journal.”

Should he trust?

He won’t get help unless he is honest…

“You would be correct, I’m his son.”

“Where has he been?”

“What do you mean?”

“He talks a lot about going to places, some kind of other world, something about doing it on his own terms but wondering if returning was possible…”

“Father is…”

He couldn’t say that he died. He was not here but he couldn’t be gone. His father wouldn’t leave without trying to return. He wouldn’t abandon them all.

“Father is indeed not available.” Cedric carefully chose his words. “He.. is too far for me to reach.”

“What even…” George pressed her hand on her face. “That guy, I really don’t get him.”

“I think I’ll check the journal in private, then.” Cedric offered. “I think I can find him.”

His father can’t be gone, and if Cedric has to read through every piece of writing to find him, he will.