#i did not realize act 5 was going to be Like That

[rustychainsnorter]

One thing I wanted to see more than anything was a moment between Morty and Rick Prime. I didn't care how it went, I just wanted them to cross paths, communicate or fight in some way. I just wanted to see how they would react to each other.

In season 7, episode 5, we got presented with what we thought was finally a Morty and Rick Prime moment, but it turned out to be Evil Morty instead. So it seemed like there was literally no moments between Rick Prime and Morty, right?

WRONG.

It might have been indirect, but both Morty and Rick Prime did react to each other. And you know what? I think Morty's reaction was more lethal.

Remember this?

At the start of Unmortricken, Evil Morty helps them to catch what they all believe is the real Rick Prime. While Rick hesitates and argues with Evil Morty, Rick Prime clears his throat and offers his "two cents" in the background.

I don't know if anyone realized it, but Morty instantly yelled "no" and pushed the button that immediately shot Rick Prime in the head.

Morty did not hesitate to take the opportunity to kill his biological grandpa. In the moment, he was desperate to get rid of him. He almost even seemed angry when he reacted to Rick Prime, and he was more than determined to kill him. There was no hesitation. He didn't care. What Morty thought was the real Rick Prime opened his mouth, and he decided to silence it.

And then we have Rick Prime's reaction to Morty

Unlike Morty, Rick Prime does not immediately go in for the kill. Instead, he awkwardly addresses the situation in an almost polite manner before pulling his gun out and asking (he asked) Morty "Should I just get this over with, or...?"

OR WHAT?!

And then Evil Morty revealed himself and shot him. I also thought it was crazy how Rick Prime cried "grandson" while being electrocuted.

To me, I think Rick Prime would have been open for conversation with Morty had Morty actually tried to communicate with him. His overconfidence probably made him feel safe enough to hold out a conversation with Morty. Hell, I bet he might have even tried to get Morty to turn on C-137. It's kind of hard to know with him. I do believe he would have had no trouble killing Morty, but the point is that he didn't do it right away when he had the chance.

Side note. Did anyone else notice that Morty was the only one to not get wounded during that battle? He was also the only one not to get targeted or shot at- aside from a drone that shot in his direction a couple times but that was it. Crazy!

Ok. This post is getting long. My point is that, despite how indirect it all was, I can now find myself a tiny bit satisfied with the small knowledge I have. If Morty met face to face with Rick Prime, I think he would try to kill him immediately and without hesitation. If Rick Prime met Morty, I think he'd act the way he did in the episode up until he felt annoyed or threatened.

It's a small analysis, but I hope you enjoyed.

[earl-grey-teacake]

Current Loscar WIP

A list of my current WIP for me to keep track of. A lot of them do not have titles. If you see something you like, feel free to ask me about it.

I prefer to have my works 90-100% completed before I slowly publish them since I don't want to leave anyone on a cliff-hanger.

Baby!Loscar AU

Oscar running away from home to go to Logan's (they live on the same floor)

How they became leash kids

Logan, Oscar, Kyle, Colton (timeline)

The Heart Remembers (Amnesiac! George)

Oscar POV of Logan leaving F1

Logan's Magical Paradox

Logan is turned into a kid and the rest are desperate to turn him back before time runs out.

What if My World was Becoming You?

Logan learns he has a support system while Oscar realizes he is in love and acts like idiot about it. (2024 season AU, canon divergence)- 6/10 chapters done

Loscar Victorian AU

Logan is on the marriage market for the second year and Oscar is dealing with a newly-bestowed title and a need for a spouse. (omegaverse)- 1.5/5 chapters done

Denial, Delusion, Daydream

Kyle POV- is Kyle a bit petty to Oscar? Yes. Did Oscar deserve it? 100%

Lando POV- Man is tired. Begging Oscar to just confess.

Would You Still Love Me if I was a Dog?- Shapeshifting AU

Logan transforms into a dog- 1/3 chapters done

Racing Dragon AU

Won't Someone Catch Me?- 1/3 chapters done

*******

Feel free to ask me about them or the progress on them

**** updated 11/3

[aseplant]

I GOTCHU!!!

transcript below the cut (hopefully free of typos lol). shaky text is in red!

Mira: Oh! Hi, Siffrin... You, uh, look... Um, are you okay? Did you have a nightmare during your nap, maybe...?

(You have to deal the King the final hit instead of her, you're sure of it, but...) (You need her to learn her shield skill. The one that protects you from anything.) (Come to think of it, you forgot to tell her about the original shield skill, earlier.) (The one you usually tell her about when you enter Dormont.) (Oh well. The shield she learns when you help her with her papers will do the job just fine.) (But you don't have time.) (You need to get to the King)

> Would you like some help with those papers? > I'll be right back. Mira: Oh! O-okay...

Mira: With my papers? N-no, of course not!!! Don't worry about them! They're not important at all, they're--

> They're bonding papers, aren't they?

Mira: HUH?!? How did you--

> Maybe I can help.

Mira: ... I... I suppose I could use your help, Siffrin... Y-yes, let's do it!!! It'll distract us both!!! From our problems!!!

(...) (You sit down.) (Mirabelle looks at you without saying a word.)

Mira: ... So, um... Well, you know they're bonding papers, so I don't need to explain... B-but really it's more like, um, dating? Dating profiles... I-I'm not thinking about being bonded yet... ... Before this all started, with the King... I decided I wanted to, uh, try. To date someone. And so I asked a dating company, and they gave me a bunch of folders of people that I could meet, and that I could date... But I haven't gone through it yet... So I figured I could at least get that done today. And look through all of them, and make a list? Of people I could see myself... Dating. And... I suppose I need help? I'm choosing someone I could spend the rest of my life with... So I'd appreciate another pair of eyes. Or, um, just the one eye. As long as it's not my two eyes looking at this. Um... And also I need a distraction from tomorrow very badly, so I figured I--

(Too long, too long, this is taking too long.)

> You know, you don't have to be bonded to anyone.

Mira: And... Huh? Wh... What do you mean?

> If you're alone for your whole life, then that's just how it is.

Mira: ...Wh... What?

> Isn't it better to just come to terms with it now, rather than later?

> You don't need to be with anyone to be happy, after all!

Mira: ...

> So...

> So you should just accept it!

Mira: Accept... Accept what, Siffrin...?

> Accept that you'll always be alone!

(...Mirabelle slapped you.) (Mirabelle slapped you...?)

Mira: ...How can you... How can you say such horrible things, Siffrin!!!

(What? But...)

Mira: I'll never be bonded with anyone? I'll always be alone? Change, what makes you think you can say such horrible things, Siffrin!!!

(Oh!) > No, I didn't mean it like...

Mira: Then HOW did you mean it, Siffrin!!! What's wrong with you today? You were weird when you woke up, you were walking around and not responding to anyone... ...You knew about my papers even though I didn't tell anyone, and now this!!! Is something wrong, Siffrin? Did something happen? Did you have a nightmare or something?

> No, of course not.

Mira: Then what happened, Siffrin! Because clearly something did happen!!! Otherwise, i-if nothing happened, I'll have to accept the fact that I was wrong about you!!!

(Huh...?) > Wrong about me...?

Mira: ... You always tease me, Siffrin. And it's fine. Everyone does. I guess I have the kind of personality where it's easy to want to tease me. But I know people don't mean it. It's how-- It's how some people make friends. And I thought it was the same for you. I thought, "It's okay, they don't mean it, it's how they are. They tease me, but they're never mean. And Siffrin never really hurts me." "Would never really hurt me." ... But now you have, Siffrin! Thinking I should be alone... Telling me I should be alone... Who do you think you are, to say this to me? Acting like-- Like you know better than me!!! Always soooo mysterious, Siffrin, always talking as if you're better than me! As if you know me!!! But you don't, Siffrin!!! You're just as lost and useless as I am!!! So stop!!! Talking!!! As if you know me!!!!!!

(Mirabelle breathes heavily.)

Mira: ... You've hurt me, Siffrin. And I was wrong. For you to say something like that to me, and think it was okay... You're awful. You're not my friend, not my ally, not anything. You never were.

(...)

Mira: ... I'm going to the Clocktower. I don't want to see you until tonight.

(...) (But you didn't mean it like...) (...) (You... You've made Mirabelle very upset.) (No, no, that's not what's important here, is it?) (She'll get over it one way or loop or another, but you didn't get her shield skill.) (But maybe it doesn't matter that much.) (You can just bring her back to that book about shields in the secret library, before you go and fight the King.) (You don't really need her special skill, after all. The usual shields kill will do just fine.) (It WOULD be nice to get everyone else's special skill, though...) (...) (Back to it.)

Odile: ... ...What's wrong, Siffrin?

> Nothing's wrong, but... > I'll talk to you later. Odile: What? No, wait--

Odile: No, something is wrong. What--

> ...Have you heard of something called a familytale?

Odile: ! ...I may have. What about them?

> I've heard of someone who has one.

> Would you like to come check with me?

Odile: ... Lead the way I suppo

[fast forwards to the boulangerie]

(Don't waste any time.)

> Hi!

Small Boulangère: H-Hi...

> Know anything about a book?

Small Boulangère: A book? Um...

Odile: ...

Small Boulangère: This is the only book I have!

(She happy shows off the Paperasse familytale.)

Odile: !

Big Boulanger: WHAT?

> Oh my!

Big Boulanger: ...So you had it, Charline... Were you two looking for this? Well, I suppose you two can borrow it, if you'd like?

(You got the PAPERASSE FAMILYTALE.)

Odile: Siffrin... ... Thank you both. We'll give it back shortly.

Big Boulanger: Take your time.

> Shall we go elsewhere, now?

Odile: ...Lead the wa--

[fast forwards to the clearing]

(You have the book, but.) (Odile isn't following stage directions,) (And is looking right at you.)

Odile: ...

> Quite a fascinating book, isn't it?

Odile: Siffrin. How did you know the little girl had a familytale?

> I figured I should ask.

Odile: Why?

> Why not?

Odile: ... Knowing that little girl owned a familytale is one thing, Siffrin... But... How did you even know I wanted to read one?

(...) (You already failed this one, didn't you.) (Why didn't you remember that she always, always finds out?) (She always figures out something is wrong, when you're not careful.) (Because she doesn't trust you.)

Odile: And even this place... Why did you bring us here?

(You stay silent.)

Odile: ...Siffrin. I don't mind secrets, Siffrin. I have many of my own. If you want to keep yours... That's fine. But what I hate... Is when those secrets are about me, and when people I consider friends keep them from me.

> So we're friends, now?

Odile: "Now"...?

(You don't answer.)

Odile: ...Siffrin... Oh, Siffrin...

(She raises a hand towards you.)

Odile: ...You're shaking.

(You try not to startle.)

Odile: And you're so tense. Like you're about to snap... Siffrin... I was worried before, but now I'm VERY worried. W-What's happening? What's wrong? How can I--

> NOTHING'S WRONG!!!

Odile: Siffrin?

> If you're going to ask questions, instead of acting like normal...

> Then I don't need you!!! I don't need this right now!!!

> If you can't act normally then just leave me alone!!!

Odile: But clearly something's wrong, Siffrin, just---

> Nothing's wrong!!!

> Why are you always like this? So overbearing, always trying to know everything?

Odile: What--

> So blinding annoying, Odile!!!

> You should just leave me behind!!!

> It's your family specialty, isn't it?!?

Odile: !!!

> Just leave me behind! Just like you left Ka Bue behind!!!

> Just like your mom le--

(You don't even finish your sentence.)

(Odile grabs your collar.) (She lets you go.)

Odile: ... ... Thank you for finding that familytale for me, Siffrin. I'm sure you have a lot of things left to do today. I'll be at the Clocktower. Don't come back for a bit.

(What the...) (What did you say?) (Why did you say that?!) (How could you have said such horrible things to her!!!) (She was only worried about you!!! And you said, you said--) (What is wrong with you?!?) (...) (Well, that's fine. You didn't really need that skill, anyway.) (You can barely remember what it does half the time.) (And Odile already has so many useful skills...) (You'll be fine.) (You're the one who needs to deal the final strike, anyway.) (...) (You should talk to Bonnie next.)

Bonnie: Frin...?

> I was thinking... > I'll talk to you later. Bonnie: O... Okay?

> How about I teach you how to fight, today?

Bonnie: R-really? I, I, um... I would really like that. Will you really?

> Of course.

Bonnie: Oh! Then, yeah!!! Let's g--

[fast forwards to the path outside Dormont]

Bonnie: L-Look, look! I'm not scared!!! COME ON!!!

[battle begins]

Bonnie: I'm not scared... I'm not scared... I can do this... I can--

(Too long, too long, it's taking too BLINDING long.) (You only need to fall over to make them act, don't you?) (You just need to make them realize they can protect you.) (You just need) (To fall...) (Now.)

(...You tripped on nothing.) (The Sadness saw you trip, and now has its sight on you.) (Bonnie saw you trip, too.)

Bonnie: Wh-what? What did you... !!! FRIN!!! NO!!!!!!

(Bonnie attacks wildly!)

Bonnie: Ah... Ah...

(You breathe in, and out.) (150 EXP received.)

[battle ends]

Bonnie: F-FRIN!!! Why did you fall?! What did you trip on?!? You almost got hurt!!! You... You... You... Didn't trip on anything. It's like you just... Fell?

(You don't say anything.)

Bonnie: You... You fell on nothing... And you... You didn't look scared... Frin... You... let yourself get attacked on purpose?

(You don't move.)

Bonnie: I saw it, I saw you! You-- You looked around, and the Sadness was about to attack, and you, you just fell... And-- You didn't even look surprised, Frin!!! But why would you do that?! I don't get it!!! You fell, and I... I didn't think you could've moved fast enough, so I... attacked the Sadness... On my own...

> Yeah!

> And you beat it on your own, too!

Bonnie: What...?

> I did that so you'd become stronger! More confident!

Bonnie: ...

> If I get hurt, you protect me.

> And if you get hurt, I'll protect you!

> That's how it is with us, isn't it? We promised!

> I-I just wanted you to be stronger!

Bonnie: ... What...

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?

(You jump.)

Bonnie: YOU GOT HURT ON PURPOSE? SO I WOULD SAVE YOU? WHY WOULD YOU THINK I WANTED THIS, FRIN!!! I DON'T WANT THIS!!! I NEVER WANTED THIS!!! I DON'T WANT TO BE STRONG IF IT MEANS YOU HAVE TO BE HURT!!! NO!!! NO!!! NO!!! NO!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!! FRIN, YOU STUPID IDIOT!!!!!!!!!

(...) > I...

> I thought it would help.

Bonnie: NO!!! IT DIDN'T HELP!!! IT REALLY DIDN'T HELP!!! I HATE YOU, FRIN!!!!!! I HATE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!

(Bonnie cries, and cries, and cries.) (You can't move.)

Bonnie: ...I... I can't... ...

(Bonnie runs away.) (...) (You...) (Because of you, Bonnie...) (Didn't get stronger.) (Not that their attacks got that much stronger after you talked to them, didn't it?) (You'll be fine, as long as you know Bonnie's here to watch your back.) (As long as you defeat the King yourself, it doesn't matter what skills they all do or don't have.) (One to go.)

> Hey, Isa.

Isa: Oh, Sif--

(Your smile stops Isa in his tracks.) (This is not a good thing.)

Isa: ... Um, I...

> What's wrong?

Isa: ... Um, nothing, just... Mira, Odile and Bonnie came to talk to me, earlier... They all looked a little upset. So, uh... Did something happen...?

(Talking behind your back, as always.)

> Nothing happened, no.

> Would you like to go see the stars with me?

Isa: The stars? But those only appear at night... It won't be nighttime for a few hours still...

> Later, then.

Isa: Oh... Sure. ... Sif... A-Are you okay? I've heard that... Well! I've heard from trusted sources that you are not doing very well today.

> No, I'm fine.

Isa: Yeah, that's a lie and we both know it, buddy. What's wrong? Is it something you can tell your buddy Isa?

(...)

Isa: ...Sif... You know, I get like that too. Sometimes, I feel weird, and I wanna push away everyone. But you know it's not good, right? It's not healthy! And I, and everyone else, we want you to be okay. To talk to us! Because we're companions! Comrades in arms! And we want everyone in our little crew to be ready for anything, right? Especially since... No matter what, tomorrow will be our last day together as a family, I guess. So please don't hesitate, okay? And talk to us! Or just me, or just Odile, or whoever! About anything! And you know, I get like that too. Sometimes, I feel weird, and I wanna push away everyone. [repeats over and over until the screen turns dark]

HEY!!!!!

What the... Sif, were you even listening to what I was saying...?

(...)

Isa: Sif... They were right, Sif, something IS wrong! Mirabelle said you were acting weird since you woke up! Odile told me something happened, with a book? That you shouldn't have known about? And Bonnie was crying so much they could barely string two words together! Did you do something? Did they misunderstand? They had to, right? You wouldn't... You wouldn't do stuff like that... What's happening, Sif? Is something wrong? Can you tell me?

(Why is he acting so suspicious of you right now?) (Urgh, so annoying, all of them!!!) (Always talking behind your back, always acting weird, always deviating from their role every time you look away for a single blinding second!!!) (Don't they get it?!) (You just want them to follow!!!) (You just want them to come with you!!!) (You just want them here!!!) (And the easiest way to keep them close is to make sure they don't die, and the easiest way to make sure they don't die is to make them stronger, why can't they understand that?!?) (You don't want to talk!!!) (You don't want to think about your problems!!!) (You just want to follow the script, the Universe, to the end, like always, except this time, you'll break it, and you'll kill him, and you'll escape, and everything will be--)

> Yeah, something's wrong.

Isa: I knew it! What is it, can I help? If you tell me, we can go and talk to everyone, and--

> What's wrong is that you're getting on my nerves.

Isa: Huh...?

> Oooh, Mr Amazing-Wonderful-Funny-Buff Isabeau!

> Look at you.

> You're acting as if you're so calm and reasonable...

> When all you are is weak and useless!

Isa: ...

> Nothing to say this time?

> It's just fine.

> You never could say it, anyway.

> You never could say anything.

> I know what kind of person you are, now.

Isa: What kind of... Person I am?

> A coward, Isa!

> Never able to say what you mean, never able to do what you want.

> Because it's easier, isn't it? To not do anything?

> To only project a facade of confidence, but not doing anything to back it up?

Isa: ...

> It's easier to let people do everything, isn't it.

> To just encourage them, while staying on the sidelines.

> Poor Isabeau.

> You keep changing and changing, from a nerd to a jock to a clothing designer...

> But deep down, you know you can't escape yourself.

Isa: ... I... I don't know where this is all coming from, but... But maybe you're right, Sif. Yeah, I'm weak. Yeah, I'm a coward. Yeah, I feel like I can never do things right. Yeah, I keep changing personalities like clothes, because it's easier than learning to like myself. YEAH, there are things I can't tell you, no matter how hard I try. But at least, I'm trying to change. I'm trying to be someone I can be proud of. I'm trying to be better. So I can help and support the people I care about. Unlike someone else here.

> ...

Isa: ... I don't want to talk to you right now. I'm gonna join everyone at the Clocktower.

> ...I'll see you there.

Isa: Oh, sure. Take your time, though. Take all the time you need!

(...) (It's fine.) (They're all upset right now, but they wouldn't go to the House without you.) (You just need to give them some time to calm down.) (...)

Loop: ...

(...) (And you have one last person to talk to, anyway.)

Loop: ...

> ...

Loop: This was... Not the nicest thing you could've said? To... Any of them?

> Does it matter?

Loop: Well... Um... Yes? Why wouldn't it matter?

> They'll come with me to the House anyway.

> They've always done it before.

Loop: ... Okay, but...

> But it really doesn't matter!

> Because I've found it, Loop!!!

Loop: Found it? Found what?

> How to break the loop! How to escape!!!

Loop: What?! But--

> I'm here to kill the King, aren't I?

> Everyone's been wishing for it, for the King to be defeated, so that's why I'm here, aren't I?!

Loop: Well, um... Maybe? I don't--

> And, and, and!!!

> Mira's always the one, isn't she?!

Loop: The one? The one to what?

> The one to deal the final strike on the King!!!

Loop: ...And?

(Why doesn't Loop get it?!?) > And if everyone's wish is centered on me...

> And if I'm the only one who's looping and remembering...

> And if time keeps rewinding after I kill the King...

> The Head Housemaiden said it might be because the wish hasn't come true, right? So...

> Isn't it rewinding because it's not me, the person who's in the middle of this, killing the King?!?

Loop: ... That... ... It can't be that simple, stardust.

> Maybe it IS that simple!

> We've never thought about it, haven't we?

> Maybe it WAS that easy, all this time!!!

Loop: No, I... I can say with certainty that it's not it. It has to be something else...

> Why?

Loop: Huh? Well, are you even sure you've never defeated the King yourself? I'm sure it must've happened once or twice. You've been looping for a long time, so you might have forgo--

> 'It must've happened once or twice'?

> I'm certain I never defeated him myself.

> And yet...

> How can you say it with certainty?

> Do you know something?

Loop: N-no, I don't know any more than you, stardust!!!

(...)

Loop: It's just... I know that's not it. It has to be something else that's causing the loops, something else that can break them. Something--

> THEN WHAT ELSE, LOOP?!?

> WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO TRY?!

> SHOULD I MAKE EVERYONE COME WITH ME? SHOULD I RELY ON THE POWER OF LOVE?

> SHOULD I TALK TO THE KING? THE HEAD HOUSEMAIDEN?

> SHOULD I DIE? SHOULD EVERYONE DIE? WHAT? WHAT ELSE IS THERE? HAVEN'T I DONE IT ALL?!?

> THERE'S NOTHING ELSE, LOOP!!! I KNOW IT'S STUPID, I KNOW IT'S A LONG SHOT, BUT IT HAS TO BE THIS!!!

> IT HAS TO BE THIS, LOOP, OR-- OR--

(You fall to your knees.)

> Or, or does it mean-- It means--

> It means I'm stuck here for good, aren't I?

> Forever?

Loop: ... ...

(...) (No.) > You think I'm stuck here forever.

Loop: What? N-No, I--

> Loop.

> You knew.

> You knew this whole time.

> You knew this whole time there was no escape.

Loop: ... Stardust...

(Stars.) > No, no, no, no, no, no...

Loop: S- Stardust, I...

> Why didn't you tell me?

Loop: ...

> Why did you lie to me?

Loop: I- I didn't... I was b- brought here to help you, and- - And I thought, if I was here, we could- -

> You know there was no way to break the loops?

Loop: I thought that if we tried, together, w- we'd- -

> YOU KNEW.

> YOU KNEW!!!!!!

> YOU KNEW YOU KNEW YOU KNEW YOU KNEW YOU KNEW YOU KNEW YOU KNEW THIS ENTIRE TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!

Loop: Stadust- -

> DID YOU HAVE FUN, LOOP?

> WAS IT ENTERTAINING, AT LEAST? WAS IT FUNNY?

> DID YOU LIKE WATCHING ME RUN AROUND IN CIRCLES, HOPING, WISHING?

> DID YOU LIKE THE SHOW?!?

Loop: ... No. No, I didn't like to watch this at all.

> Curse you, Loop.

Loop: ... Stardust... I'm sorry... I really am... ... But please, stardust- - Siffrin!!! If we think, if we go through it all again, we can- -

(You don't have time for this.)

(The Clocktower.) (You arrived later than usual.) (Is everyone eating still?) (You need to join them, and act normally this time, so you can all go to the House together tomorrow.) (You don't care if they're not strong enough. You can make it on your own, defeat the King on your own.) (You just want them here.)

(You enter silently.) (...) (You don't hear cutlery or anything.) (Your stomach hurts.) (They must've eaten without you.) (Maybe they're already sleeping.) (But no-- You can hear them talk.) (You get closer...)

Mira: ... And... And then I left. I couldn't... Be there anymore.

Odile: ...

Isa: Why would Sif act like this suddenly? That's not like them at all...

Odile: Clearly, something happened.

Bonnie: B-But what? I don't understand... Why he'd do stuff like that. I don't understand at all!

Mira: Bonnie...

Isa: ...

Odile: ... Everyone. Siffrin might come back any second now... So we need to decide what to do.

Isa: What to do?

Mira: About tomorrow...?

Odile: Yes.

Bonnie: Huh? What do you mean?

Mira: Are you saying... Leave without Siffrin?

Isa: What?! I-I understand how you feel, but... But we shouldn't leave Sif behind! H-He's the one who leads us... We wouldn't be able to evade traps without them! Plus, he's our friend! We can't leave them behind!!!

Bonnie: Yeah! H-He was mean, but, but Frin was always with us, so--

Mira: I agree, but... B-But would he even agree to come with us, still? Maybe they won't even come back tonight...

Bonnie: No, Frin will be there!!! I know it!!!

Isa: And either way, we should wait for them, everyone... We can't...

Odile: Please, listen to me. ... I... I just... I just don't know if we can trust Siffrin anymore. Not at such an important moment.

Isa: But--

Odile: We'll be fighting the King tomorrow, Isabeau!!! It's not just a simple Sadness. It's the KING. The being who has trapped Vaugarde in time. And we need to be a team. We need to be united, we need to trust one another. ...After what just happened to all of us today... Could you do it, everyone? Could you entrust your life and future to someone like Siffrin right now?

Mira: ...

Bonnie: ...

Isa: ...

(...) (You) (You decide to

[fast forward to the House]

:D

this is going to get me cyberbullied but. could anyone reblog with a transcript of what sif says to everyone at the start of the act 5 loop <- (i was physically unable to force myself to watch sif say horrible things and looked away while they talked but i still feel like i should know for the Full Experience™️)

[arolesbianism]

Thinking abt Sif Odile duo looping au again and I wanna be able to plot everything out more coherently but act 5 eternally looms overhead and boy I do not wanna look up

[skrunksthatwunk]

mannnn ok i've been waiting for the yyh fixation cycle to put me back on (!!!!!!!) rather than (thing i am so normal about but it's dormant) and it's taken a little longer than i expected and i was worried it was going away but i am happy to announce that WE ARE SO BACK BABYYY

[fardf150]

fuck

[ckret2]

Chapter 51 of human Bill Cipher is once more the Mystery Shack's prisoner: Dipper and Mabel try to figure out what the Axolotl's poem means; Dipper gets the hang of astral projection; and... whatever's going on up there happens.

####

Ford and Dipper came back into the shack through the gift shop; Ford didn't want to risk crossing paths with Bill. While Dipper went into the house, Ford went down—returning to the safety of his subterranean study.

Once Ford had put on the old black trench coat he'd worn during his multiversal travels and gotten comfortable at his desk, he pulled out Journal 5 to document the events of the last few days. In a cheap ballpoint pen, he wrote, I've lost my #1 Grunkle pen (and favorite coat) to the waters of Lake Gravity Falls. And then, deciding this didn't adequately express his feelings, he drew a small frown. That coat had served him well for decades, and he'd really liked that pen. It did write excellently, and it had reminded him of his gniece and gnephew.

He spent three pages documenting the eclipse—what happened, what readings he'd taken, what he and Dipper observed—and then another four pages talking about Bill. What he'd told them, why Ford had dismissed it; his claims about a trans-dimensional axolotl distorting gravity with its migration; the statue, the rescue, the breakdown.

The act of writing always helped Ford clarify his thoughts and untangle mysteries; it wasn't until he was writing that he realized the limbs Bill had said he couldn't feel were the ones that had broken off the statue.

He listed the rules of the chess variants he could remember Bill inventing. He drew Bill huddled in front of the board, grim, tear-streaked, exhausted; and then scratched out his face, embarrassed at the thought of immortalizing such a raw moment for his private viewing.

He wrote, There's still a slim possibility that the entire "eclipse," start to finish, was Bill's masterfully-orchestrated scheme to make us pity and trust him; but it's unlikely. Although Bill is fiendish enough, he isn't currently powerful enough, and his lies certainly aren't elaborate enough. If he could pull off such a byzantine ruse, then he could just as easily escape—and if he can escape, why hasn't he? Bill may be insane, but he's never been THAT irrational.

And so, even as twisted as Bill's idea of "friendship" is... for the very first time, I'm convinced that he was telling the truth all along when he said he wants me as his friend. It's not an act. He risked his life to save someone who's an active threat to him.

And at the end of it all—though I'm grateful to be alive in spite of my own stubbornness—do I like him any better for it?

Ford leaned back and shut his eyes, sifting through the inner tumult of anger and old hurt that defined most of his memories of Bill, looking to see if anything had changed.

There was a sore, tender spot in his emotions, a place beginning to rot with remorse; when he prodded at those emotions, he found that it was shame over his own harsh conduct of the last couple of days. But he was only ashamed of how cruelly he'd acted; he wasn't ashamed that Bill was the one he'd done it to.

Outside of that tender spot—regret over his own behavior—nothing else had changed.

No. I still hate him. I'm grateful to be alive, but I hate him. He hasn't undone anything he did to my family and me, and he never will. Forgiveness can't be purchased with favors.

I'm only relieved at the certainty of it. Bill has committed an act that can't possibly be a lie. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he's shown me the truth; and the truth is he'd rather see me alive than dead. Whatever other lies he may tell, I can hold on to that fact.

Bill's miserable eyes peered out at Ford between the scribbles he'd drawn across his face. It was truly a pity that Ford had to hate him. Pity that Bill hadn't been somebody better. He could have been better.

Ford couldn't find it in himself to be embarrassed that he'd filled four pages talking about the monster he'd already wasted so many more on. Bill had been right about him: You might hate me to my face, but behind my back you're as obsessed with me as ever. The only thing Bill didn't understand was that hatred and obsession weren't mutually incompatible.

####

"Hey, Dipper," Mabel said, unfolding the living room sofa bed. 

"Hey, Mabel," Dipper said, passing through living room on his way to the stairs. He climbed up to the attic.

He came back down from the attic. "Mabel. Why's Bill asleep in your bed."

"He really needed a nap," Mabel said.

"Okay but why on your bed?"

Mabel pouted. "Dipper, do you realize he's never slept on a real bed? Ever?"

Dipper tried to imagine sleeping on a couple couch cushions on the floor every night. "Yeah, okay, that does kinda suck." Even if it was Bill's own fault he wouldn't sleep in the living room.

By unspoken mutual agreement, having a Bill in the bedroom followed the same law as finding a centipede in the bathroom. The law was "that's the centipede's bathroom now." So once the folding bed was set up, they sat on it to serve as their hang-out spot for the evening and caught each other up on what they'd done the last couple of days.

After Dipper & Co. had left, Grenda had come over to take advantage of the low gravity to retrieve the kite that had been stuck in a tree near the Mystery Shack since last summer (it was, tragically, too tattered to salvage), and then they'd gone over to Candy's house to photograph each other performing feats of impossible strength. (Mabel would be sending some pictures to their parents to confuse them, and adding the rest to her summer scrapbook.) She'd spent the next day breaking the trampoline world record until Soos came outside and said gravity was probably too low for it to be safe to be up in the air anymore, if Bill's warnings about being off the ground when gravity hit zero were true; at which point Mabel had hung around inside air-swimming until she suddenly slammed against the ceiling, and then the ground. She was fine. She just had a couple of bruises. She showed Dipper her bruises.

In return, Dipper told Mabel about how their quest had gone: the checks for micro-rips, Bill's increasingly frantic warnings, the lake—

("You got to see a bajillion magical axolotls and I didn't?!")

—the cliff, the Axolotl, Dipper's near-death experience, and what he now knew about his out-of-body dreams.

"Seriously?" Mabel hissed, eyes bugging out. "And he had us looking up lucid dreaming books! What a jerk!"

"I know! He could have just ignored the whole thing, we didn't even think it was anything but dreams."

"And I'd thought he was being so helpful, too! Like he was really trying to make up for giving you 'nightmares'!" Mabel laughed in disbelief and flopped down on the flimsy mattress. "All that because he just didn't want us to know how it was really his fault? Biiill, ugh."

His fault. Dipper hesitated, wondering whether he should tell Mabel what Bill had said about Mabel's Fault; then decided against it. Bill had probably been telling the truth when he'd said he only wanted all the credit for Weirdmageddon.

But—Dipper did tell her about Bill saving their lives. He would have felt like a liar if he hadn't—like he was trying to trick his sister into thinking Bill was worse than he already was. He hoped Ford wouldn't mind; but how could he not tell Mabel?

"He could have just let you die and didn't?" Mabel turned that over in her head, processing this sudden shift in Bill's behavior. "Wow. I'm impressed."

He also told her about their previous encounter with the Axolotl. Considering the other lies Bill had told recently, anything he said about them meeting the Axolotl was dubious at best; but Dipper could remember the Axolotl, so maybe some of it was true, even if Bill had twisted as much as he could. ("The Axolotl said hi, by the way." "Aww. Tell him hi back!" "Yeah, I... don't know how to do that.")

Dipper laid out his journal between them on the folding bed, and Mabel read over the couplet a few times. "'Sixty degrees that come in threes, watches from within birch trees'..."

"It's got to be talking about Bill," Dipper said. "Equilateral triangles have three sixty-degree angles. I just don't know why the Axolotl wanted to talk to us about him."

Mabel frowned at the lines. "I think... I remember meeting him too," she said.

"You do?"

"Kinda. Like in a dream," she said. "We were in some kind of futury space race car. And he had a really comfortable beanbag chair."

"Yes! I remembered the beanbag chair, too!" And he hadn't mentioned it in his journal. "This is great! Talking about it must... must cause us to remember, somehow. Maybe since the universe where we met the Axolotl doesn't exist anymore, our memories of it are... detached or something? Psychically floating around between dimensions until we try to remember them?" He took in Mabel's skeptical frown and shrugged. "I don't know!"

She scrunched up her face. "Ugh. Last summer's first-grader time travel was complicated enough. This is like college-level time travel. Maybe we can ask Bill how it works?"

She said it so easily, like she thought it was actually a good idea. Right after she'd heard about the lucid dreaming thing, too. "I don't think he'd help." Dipper lowered his voice. "He really didn't want Grunkle Ford and me to find out about the Axolotl—and he kept telling me not to think about what the Axolotl told me. He's trying to cover something up."

"Oo-oo-ooh." Voice dropped to a whisper, Mabel said, "Do you think it's some kind of Space Axolotl conspiracy?"

"It could be," Dipper said. "All I know is he was trying to tell us something important about Bill. Some kind of prophecy, or... maybe a warning...?"

He trailed off. Mabel had stopped listening to Dipper. She was rereading the couplet Dipper had written, moving her lips like she was murmuring under her breath—but whatever she was saying, it was much longer than the couplet Dipper had written down. Distractedly, she said, "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah, here." Dipper quickly handed over the pen he kept in his vest.

Mabel clicked it, went to the bottom of the page, and wrote: A different form, a different time.

Dipper sucked in a sharp breath as the words snapped into place in his mind. "That's it! That was the last line! What else do you remember?"

"That's it," Mabel said. "It was free form poetry with a bunch of rhyme pairs."

"I don't think free form poetry rhymes."

"Pbbbt." Mabel blew a raspberry and shoved Dipper's face. "Whatever! You know what I mean." She pointed at the last line. "Do you think the poem's about why Bill's here? He time traveled to the Mystery Shack in a new body..."

"Exactly! Bill must be back here for a reason. He's got all those powers—or, used to, anyway—and he knows more about the multiverse than anybody on Earth... Maybe there's some kind of big threat coming, and Bill's the only one who can stop it, and—and the Axolotl wanted us to know...?"

"I like the sound of that," Mabel said. "That'd basically make him a hero, right?"

Dipper grimaced. "I mean. I guess? But we're talking about Bill. If he does help us stop a threat, it'd be like if a serial killer picked up a hitchhiker and killed him, and then it turned out the hitchhiker was an even worse serial killer."

"That still sounds kinda heroic to me."

"Pfff, okay." He looked at his journal. "But... what is he here to do?"

Mabel considered what they'd already written. "Maybe we can use him to spy on our enemies through birch trees!"

"Thaaat's probably not it."

"No, I think I'm on to something. I can feel it."

There was a lot of empty space between his couplet and Mabel's line. "There's more we're missing, though. Maybe the rest of the poem describes the threat? Or what we need to get Bill to do?"

"I can't remember anything else, though."

"Me neither."

They stared at the page together, waiting for something to come to their blank minds. Mabel looked at the fish tank. "Hey, Primrose! Do you know anything?"

The pet axolotl in the tank ignored her serenely.

Dipper said, "'Primrose'?"

"Yeah, last summer Grunkle Stan said her name is Freakface, but I thought she deserved a cuter name. She's primrose color!"

"Ford says he originally named him Nikola."

Mabel gasped. "Nikki..."

Dipper twisted around to look at the axolotl. "Do you know anything? Do you... get messages from the Axolotl's heralds, or anything...?"

Nikola slowly opened his mouth, and slowly closed it.

Mabel said, "Hey. The Axolotl's one of those dimension-crossy time-travely guys, right? He probably wouldn't have given us a prophecy in the wrong timeline and then made us forget it unless he knew we'd remember it in time in the rightdimension!"

"I guess," Dipper said uncertainly.

"So we don't need to worry about it! We'll remember it when we need to."

"Unless this timeline's going to branch, and the only one where we survive is the one where we put all our effort into trying to remembering—"

"Shhh!" Mabel put a finger over Dipper's mouth. "Uh-uh. No college time travel. We'll be fine!"

Dipper pushed her over. "Okay, but we should at least try a little to remember what the Axolotl told us."

"What if we work on it separately?" Mabel propped herself up on an elbow. "Instead of just sitting around thinking about it. And whenever we remember a line, we can tell each other and see if it makes anything click."

"That might be faster," Dipper said, stroking his chin. "We're already remembering different lines."

"Yeah! And that lucid dreaming book said something about focusing on a problem before you sleep so you can figure it out in your dreams! We can just work on it in our sleep and we'll remember it all in no time!"

Dipper laughed. "What? No way, I think lucid dreaming is just one of those made up pop psychology things. I didn't get it to work at all." Either it didn't work or Bill had deliberately recommended a terrible book.

"I did! I can remember like... eighty percent more dreams. And I can tell when I'm dreaming a lot more often!"

"Huh." Or, maybe Dipper just wasn't doing it right. "Maybe I need to start over from step one. Do you know where the book we were using went?"

"Over here!" Mabel had set a couple library books on the end table next to the sofa bed; she pulled out the second one, which had a glittery pink bookmark with a cat on it stuck two-thirds of the way through. "Just don't lose my bookmark."

"Thanks." He'd reread the first step before bed. "We should probably be getting ready for bed anyway, huh?"

"Seriously?! It's barely bedtime!" And when the adults weren't watching, official bedtime was an hour and a half before Actual Bedtime.

"I'm exhausted. I just hiked up and down a mountain and faced down death."

Mabel pointed at Nikola. "You faced down a big salamander."

"Close enough."

They went upstairs, brushed their teeth, went to their bedroom...

And stopped in the door. Bill was still asleep. "Oh. Right," Dipper said.

He was curled into a ball on his left side, facing the wall, covered with only the zodiac blanket and his borrowed/stolen top hat sitting on the side of his head. He didn't use a pillow; he'd pushed Mabel's pillows and dolls behind himself to form a squishy makeshift fortress.

"Please don't wake him up," Mabel whispered. (She'd already set up the folding bed for herself; she'd clearly planned on this.) "He's had a really really hard time the last couple of days, and I think he needs as much sleep in a real bed as he can get, and it's just for one night, and I'm sure he'd rather sleep than do anything evil—"

"He said something, didn't he?"

Mabel paused. "Yeah. I think seeing his body really messed him up."

Dipper sighed. "We were trying to keep him away from it." He didn't want Mabel to think they'd forced him to stare his own death in the face. "But he did that... eye thing and looked through the trees, and..."

Mabel nodded.

Well. Dipper couldn't kick him out now. For Mabel's sake.

As children, occasionally when they got hotel rooms with a bed too few, their parents would stick them in one bed with a barrier of pillows in between them. At age thirteen and without two crabby parents trying to get them to just go to bed after a long plane flight, they unanimously vetoed that plan. Dipper decided against asking Stan if he could sleep in Ford's unoccupied bed, both because he suspected Stan would just go upstairs and drag Bill out of the room and because he didn't want Stan to think he was scared of Bill. He wasn't scared of Bill. Not anymore. He could handle one measly night in the same room as him. Anyway, somebody had to make sure he wasn't unsupervised in their bedroom all night, right?

Dipper and Mabel quietly set a floor mirror and old lamp next to Mabel's bed, draped a sheet between them, taped on a pink poster that said "WARNING! TRIANGLE ZONE!" and was covered in stickers of triangular objects, and decided Dipper was adequately shielded. If Bill did get up during the night, he'd probably trip through the sheet and wake half the house before he got anywhere near Dipper.

Dipper went to sleep with a baseball bat in his hands.

####

"Okay," Bill said, hands on his sides, "what am I looking at here?"

The feral band members of Sev'ral Timez turned toward Bill, eyes reflecting in the dim light. They were squatting around Bill's petrified corpse like a pack of apes examining a sleek black monolith.

"Hey girl," Creggy G. said.

"Hey," Bill said. He looked down at himself. His onyx black feet hovered over the ground and the yellow glow from his exoskeleton illuminated the clearing. "Lemme cut to the chase, is this gonna turn into a raunchy dream? My corporeal love life is about as cold and dry as Antarctica, I keep hoping one of my dreams will get a little hotter and wetter—"

"Nah, G," Deep Chris said. "Mr. Bratsman got us fixed."

"Aw."

"We're here to pay you reverence for freeing our minds from the chains of the conventional," Greggy C said, gesturing to Bill's corpse. Leggy P was kneeling and bowing to it and Chubby Z was posing for it. "We want to help free you like you tried to help free humanity."

Bill's eye narrowed. He tapped a finger against the edge of one brick as he considered this offer. Finally, skeptically, he said, "Fine. I'll bite. Why should I think you can help me?"

"Because we can give you the understanding your heart's been missing, girl. You're just like us," Chubby Z said. "A horror never meant to exist, born of a dream to construct the perfect golden idol, forced to dwell within an unnaturally-fabricated human shell."

Bill tilted his head thoughtfully. "I'm with you so far."

"We want you to join us," Deep Chris said. "Cavort with us in the silvan night, G. Shun the harsh light of the spotlight for the healing salve of moonbeams. We'll get drunk on the sweet fermented summer berries, uncaring of how the brambles prick our flesh. We'll dance in a frenzy of ecstasy and only sleep when the morning sun lifts the dew from the flowers and the sweat from our skin. It'll be straight Dionysian, boo."

"We can kiss the hot trees," Creggy G said.

Bill grabbed his shoulder. "Oh, you're the human that keeps making out with birch trees! I knew your face was familiar!" He paused. "So... are there any eligible ones around here?"

"Sure, girl, just downstream."

"If I'd known, I would've polished myself first."

"Say you'll join us, Bill girl," Deep Chris said. The band crowded around Bill to either side, posing around him—the backup dancers for the star singer. "You'd be one of us."

"We're already exactly the same," Creggy G said, holding up a mirror so that it reflected his and Bill's faces beside each other. In Bill's human face were two empty white eyes with pinprick pupils and pale blue irises, exactly the same as the eyes of the Sev'ral Timez boys.

He sat up with a gasp, hands flying to his face. There were still green boughs at the edges of his dreaming vision, blending into the wooden boards of the Mystery Shack's attic. Before sleep had fully fled his mind, he seized up the zodiac blanket draped over his body and stared into his embroidered eye.

The eye stared back at him. Through it, he could see his horrified sleepy face, and his normal slitted yellow eyes. His connection to the blanket's eye disappeared as he finished waking up.

He heaved a sigh of relief and flopped back down. He'd been lucid, but he hadn't been in control of that dream. He still needed practice.

He rolled toward the light of the window, groped around beneath it until he found his journal, grabbed up his crayons, and flipped pages blearily until he found the first blank one. He started writing down his dream, pausing only briefly as he tried to figure out how to translate "Sev'ral Timez" before settling on a sufficiently goofy way to misspell "several times" in Plaintext.

He made it halfway down the page before he stopped. Hold on. This wasn't his beautiful journal. These were not his beautiful crayons. He checked the cover and grimaced in displeasure when he saw a pine tree rather than a hand. Dipper's journal. Bill ripped out the page, ate it, and set the journal and Mabel's crayons back on the table  under the bedroom window.

"What was that," Dipper asked, "some kind of Morse code?"

Bill yelped and twisted around. Dipper's soul was hovering above Mabel's headboard, watching over Bill's shoulder.

"Hey! Back, foul ghost!" Bill snatched up Mabel's pillow and swung it at Dipper.

"Ow—Hey! How did you hit me, I'm in the mindscape—"

"I said back!" Bill swung again, chasing Dipper off the bed. "Back into your fleshy tomb!" He climbed off the bed, stumbled into Dipper and Mabel's trap, tripped through the sheet and probably woke up half the house.

He yanked the sheet off and flung the pillow at Dipper by its corner. "Now get back in your body, go to sleep, and leave me alone."

"I don't know how to get back in it. I just wait until it happens by itself," Dipper said, floating irritably over his sleeping body, arms crossed. "Why do you think I just wander around every time I have this dream?" He paused. "Right—it's not a dream, is it."

Bill sighed heavily. "Try putting your body on like..." He almost said like an exoskeleton, remembered his audience, and amended himself: "Like it's clothing. I usually start with the hands. Just like putting on gloves!"

Dipper looked at the cold fingers wrapped tightly around the baseball bat. "How do I put hands on like gloves? There's no opening or—"

"Just try it, would you?" Bill sat tiredly on the edge of Mabel's bed.

Dipper shot him an irritated look, but pressed his ghostly hands against his fleshly ones, passing through the skin until one set of fingers rested inside the other. A fingertip twitched. 

Bill gestured with one hand, continue. "Now the sleeves."

"I know how to get dressed." Dipper laid down in his body, forearm into forearm, shoulder into shoulder—until he was wholly back inside. He sat up, awake. "Huh."

"There, see?" Bill said. "And if you want to take it back off, just do the same thing in reverse. Like degloving your body from your soul!"

"Did you have to phrase it like that?" Still, Dipper tried it, peeling out of his body from the fingertips up. He left his body sitting upright as he hovered over it.

Bill chuckled tiredly. "Lookit your face, staring at nothing. Stupid looking."

"Shut up." He slid back into his body, more quickly now that he knew what he was doing.

"Great," Bill said. "Now that you know how to get back in your body, never do that again." He flopped back onto Mabel's bed and rolled over to face the wall. "It's a pain in my base having you wander around all night."

"Then you should've thought of that before you ripped my soul out of my body," Dipper grumbled. "Can you reattach me to my body?"

"Sure, easy." He lifted a hand to point down at his regrettably human form. "Not like this, though. Wanna help reattach me to my body?"

"Never in a million years."

"Then come back in a million years. There's nothing I can do for you until then." Bill dragged Mabel's zodiac blanket back over himself. "So sorry. Go to sleep. Leave me alone."

Dipper bet Bill could do it and was only saying he couldn't to try to trick Dipper into helping him. But he lay back down—clutching his bat again—and shut his eyes.

After a moment, Bill asked, "Where's Mabel? Sleepover?"

"Sofa bed in the living room."

"Right."

And then there was silence.

Several minutes passed. Dipper nearly fell back asleep. He heard Bill climbing out of bed and creeping across the room; but the footsteps didn't approach Dipper's bed, so he didn't open his eyes.

A few minutes after that, Dipper heard him come back, walking more heavily. He cracked open an eye to see what Bill was up to.

He was carrying Mabel, who was still asleep; his arms were trembling from her weight, but even at that Dipper hadn't known Bill was that strong. With a quiet grunt, he set her on her bed, then haphazardly tossed her sheet and zodiac blanket over her. He picked up his top hat from the bed and put it on; and then he wandered off, footsteps quiet as a ghost, and Dipper heard the creak of the door as he left the bedroom.

That was a lot nicer than Dipper had expected from Bill. Maybe he did care about Mabel in his own way.

Mabel rolled over and latched on to one of her dolls. Dipper shut his eye and fell back asleep.

####

(My favorite part of writing this was Bill dreaming about Sev'ral Timez saying the most absurdly flowery things imaginable. Anyway, let me know what y'all think about this week's chapter! And reminder that I MIGHT skip next week or the week after because the next couple chapters need heavier editing than usual.)

[falesten-iw]

It's surreal to witness how easily some people can ignore the urgent situation in Gaza. They’re watching it unfold live: children and families in Gaza bombed, erased from their homes, but they still act like nothing’s happening. History will look back on this time, and it won't be forgiving. It won’t only remember those who supported the bombings; it will also remember those who sat back, shrugged, and scrolled past without a second thought. It will remember that we, as Palestinians, reached out for help but were met with indifference, silence, and passive inaction. There’s no difference between the Zionists and those who ignor our messages from Gaza. There’s no difference between the Zionists and those who witness our pain without acting. You are witnessing ethnic cleansing, and your reaction is ...... nothing. Blank faces, silence, a refusal to acknowledge the truth unfolding right in front of you. Are you really unable to spare $10, $15 or 20$ to save lives in Gaza? Are you too lazy to respond with even a word of support? Are we asking too much of your time?? Is 5 minutes of your time worth more than our lives in Gaza?? What are you going to tell your children, partner or loved ones when they ask what you did while all this was happening?? “Oh, I ignored their messages.” How will you justify staying silent when they flip through the history books in the future? A simple question for sharks: How do you think your followers will react when they realize you might turn a blind eye in their moments of need? What kind of influencer or artist chooses to ignore the pain of others? It’s been a year. More than 42,000 Palestinian civilians have been killed, and over 100,000 injured. Isn’t that enough? Or is the number still too small for you to care? Should we talk about the 10,000 missing or the countless unjustly imprisoned? Maybe you need to see every building in Gaza reduced to rubble before it finally “counts” for you. Do you feel a flicker of empathy? Of humanity? Or are you still waiting for the “right” moment to speak up and take action? History won’t just remember the silence. It will remember even you who ignored this post when your help and action were needed. My family in Gaza urgently needs your help, so please help us and donate now!

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe

@sar-soor @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @dailyquests @sayruq

@sawasawako @feluka @appsa @anneemay @commissions4aid-international

@wellwaterhysteria @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @elbiotipo

@el-shab-hussein @heritageposts @communistkenobi @deepspaceboytoy

@mesetacadre @forevergulag @gazafunds @northgazaupdates2 @freepalestinneee

@komsomolka @nabulsi @fading-event-608 @buttercuparry

@prierepaiienne @interact-if @unified-multiversal-theory @inkstay

@socialjusticekitten-blog @socialgoodmoms @nowthisnews @socialgoofy @fightforhumanity-rpg-blog

@fightforhumanity-rp @queerandpresentdanger @90-ghost @timogsilangan @punkitt-is-here

@fox-guardian @hiveswap @valtsv @helppeople @ibtisams

@annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @vakarians-babe @plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @tamamita

@apollos-boyfriend @akajustmerry @marnosc @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides

@belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @brutaliakent @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish

@communistchilchuck @fairuz @sarazucker @fairuzfan

@a-nautilus-as-pixel-art @baby-indie-blog

@vivisection-gf @brutaliakhoa @the-bastard-king @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness-blog

@neptunerings @malcriada @turian @girlinafairytale @abnormalicacid

@autisticmudkip @lesbianmaxevans

@nabulsi27 @palestinegenocide @orblesbian @palebluebutler

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @morallyrainyday

@jonpertwee @flipton @bell-bones @ragingbullmode @envytherose

@rodent178 @tangledinourstrings @kraigerzz-blog @frogbrainedfool @the-ending-of-dramamine

@mossdeep @redsavesquare @uninvited-eon @glenbot @ultimateumbreon33

@disastersim @airsigh @cowboy-queer @lapastelr0sa @sharingresourcesforpalestine

@rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @kropotkindersurprise @cruzwalters @la7ma-mafrooma @rosyish

@bookskittychad @streakoflavender @gabajoofs @miraclemaya @devilofthepit

@gay-yosuke @cometcrystal @corvidkusnos @nb-marceline @cicadaland

@manletwizard @2blushie @antiauteur @acnologia-is-best-dragon @bitchmael

@penelopiaad @hashiramashonkers @laughtracklesbian @legallymean @b0nkcreat

@crapscicle @uwu-pinata @syntheticspades @momxijinping @longlivepalestina

@saberboi-1 @martinmynster @nako-funky @trans-leek-cookie @vaticinatrix

@moomoobug @narwa @twilightobservationtower @estrellasrojas @knxfesck

@lakeeffectbitch @fatbitchneedsfoodbadly @no-thats-absurd @humanmorph @toesuckingoctober

@sandiwchirlinreal @tcda @misspiggyforvogueitalia @gamb0fficial @vincentspork

@gemstonedraws @frankendykes-monster @mizoguchi @kos-mos @ryoki-ph

@blackwoolncrown @nightwussy @freehologramreview @melancholy-hummingborb

@sister-lucifer @nonbinarymerbabe @raventhecoolestpersonever @ebenrosetaylor

@inkbomber @collectoroflovelythings @k00ldino @sundung @extrabitterbrain

@names-hard @killaltrock @thatdarngreenpixie-blog @angelsarecomputers

@secretgoths @cauli-flawa @faraliniste @adrowninggrip @thesavagesnakeplant

@g-l-a-s-s-h-e-a-r-t-s-s @illuminated-runas @silverstone-gp @saintverse @prisonhannibal

@emathyst9 @trasno-personal @turtles-on-turts

@readingsquotes @bellybuttonblue2 @bees-fart-too @andiv3r-reblogging @sillyseer

@cloudedcari @tachycardial @evileyeamulet @pompompotato @shamemp3

@jihaad @italofobia @stealthjet @pinnyy @sivavakkiyar

@chronicowboy @bi-worm @ydic74the @amorosebeing @golvio

[satorisoup]

ᰔ CANDY GRAMS ft. rintaro suna

ʚ CW : secret admirer. manager! reader.

ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ

every year on valentine’s day, your schools student body sets up a booth for candy grams. $2 to send a cute little message to your loved one with little lollipops and candied hearts. the line would stretch all the way down the hall with students eager to buy one, the end of the line grumbling at their time wasted when they heard the shout of “sold out!”. it was a huge tradition that the students never failed to miss, as it would always cause an uproar of excitement along with the funds being donated to whatever cause.

it’s your second year at inarizaki highschool, and you were luckily privileged enough to become the manager of the volleyball club during the second half of your first year, being a new student, despite the insane amount of girls who had applied for the spot. you had made it extremely clear that no, you were not interested in the twins, no, this wasn’t a plan to get one them to fall in love with you, and no, you weren’t a secret spy for a fangirl instagram account trying to gather information. all things accounted for, you were accepted into the position.

now as a second year, you had kept your word on not falling for the infamous volleyball twins who in reality were just dumb teenage boys that talked your ear off with their constant nagging and immature jokes. however, the one who had caught your eye was the middle blocker with the #10 jersey, rintaro suna. they never said you couldn’t have a little crush on him, right? and even despite having quite the interest in him, you would never act on it, as you seemed to be good friends with him along with the twins, not daring to ruin the friendship or break the trust with the club.

suna was a nice person to be around, his sense of humor was infectious and he was a good, more tame break from the rambunctious person known as atsumu miya, even though they did tend to occasionally get into mischief when together. he was blunt in the ways he showed that he cared, and you recall the moment you realized you had feelings for him when you had accompanied him at the store to get a snack before practice. he had asked you if you wanted anything, and you had told him you didn’t have any money with you.

“i didn’t ask if you had money. i asked what you wanted.”

it left you blushing for the rest of the day, walking out of the shop with a cookie in hand and hearing “why didn’t ya pay fer me?!” fall out of atsumu’s mouth in complaint. you knew in your heart you definitely couldn’t deny it now, you had fallen.

the date marked february 14th, valentine’s day, and just like last year, the halls were bustling in delirium as the line stretched from one end of the courtyard to the other. you slung your bag over your shoulder and continued to walk to your designated class, overhearing the cheers of the people who finally made it to the front of the string of students. making your way to class and taking your seat, you prepare to take on the day as if it were any other.

eventually, the period before lunch had rolled around, and the person passing candy grams from each class had reached your door. you could feel the anticipation of your peers as the student began dropping each one off to certain desks. 1 here, 3 there, 5, wow that’s quite a few.

after most of the class had received their special gifts, whispering the notes their partners had left for them to one another, you had expected the deliverer to make their leave and be on with it.

your assumptions hadn’t been correct, when you see that they had made their way to your desk.

“10 candy grams for miss l/n, here you go!”

wait what?

you caught a few quiet gasps and small whispers from some of your classmates as your desk had been filled with a whopping number of 10 candy grams. even you had wanted to gasp yourself, but you really did not want this attention on you.

after everyone had quieted down a little more, you took the gracious opportunity to check the pink slips of paper on each packet of treats.

“to: y/n.”

again, you checked another slip. then another, and another for good measure. to your upmost confusion, every single slip you had was completely nameless. before you could comprehend exactly what was going on with these mysterious sweets, class was being dismissed for lunch.

“buying candy grams for yerself? that’s pretty depressin’.” atsumu bellowed at you when you had walked up to your friends, arms almost overflowing with your gifts.

“im not that cheap, you idiot…there’s 10 here, and ALL with no name.” you scoffed back at him.

“maybe it’s yer stalker.” osamu had countered, eyeing the bags.

“oh yeah, how lovely that would be. quit trying to scare me, osamu.” you deadpanned. “where’s suna?”

“dunno. so, ya gonna share that candy or what?”

“really miya? you’re both holding an entire grocery bag of them. i’ll see you guys at practice.” you walked off, still pondering on the thought of who it could be.

you still hadn’t managed to find suna within the midst of this entire situation, wanting to get his input. despite the so called “thrill” of having a secret admirer, you didn’t really seem to care. you wanted suna, and you wanted it to be him who was sending you stupid pieces of candy and dumb notes. that however, is a wish that could never be granted no matter how bad you yearned for it.

it’s the last half of the day by now, most classes having been visited by the deliverer, disregarding a few. mostly extra candy grams were being passed to the people who didn’t receive them before lunchtime. you practically ignored the lesson your teacher was explaining, too caught up in your thoughts to listen. 10 candy grams, no name, suna has practically disappeared. when class had been dismissed, you passed by your locker in hopes of putting the treats in there for later, but when you opened the latch, you had yet another surprise waiting for you.

10 more packets of candy dribbled out of your locker, a couple landing by your feet as if to mock you. you scamper to pick them up with a huff, and when you start to shove them in with the rest in your locker, miserably failing to fit them all inside, you come to an immediate realization.

atsumu is the only person who unfortunately knows your locker combination, back when you had held his lost textbook for him until he could get it back.

it dawned on you in an instant, of course, this was atsumu’s idea of humour, a perfect valentine’s day prank.

you roll your eyes at the idea of the twins antics, but also began to feel a tinge of sadness when you came to your conclusion, a hint of hope in the back of your mind that maybe, it was the one your heart had longed for who was up to this, but you’re quick to shut it down. with an upset slam of your locker, you head to the gym.

feet that slowly skid onto the concrete stairs was all that could be heard, and your shoes squeek against the vinyl flooring of the inarizaki gym when you enter. as you prepare to tell off atsumu, a voice interrupts you.

“what’s up with you?”

it was suna, his head cocked to the side with a slight furrow in his brow.

“im trying to find atsumu, he’s really done it this time…”

“and what did he do?”

“he thought it would be a funny idea to prank me! on valentine’s day of all days! sending a mountain of candy grams that won’t even fit in my locker…there wasn’t even a name on them. and it made me think…” you interrupt yourself before you accidentally say too much, “it’s just dumb yknow?” you huff.

“i figured you would think something dumb like that.”

“… huh?”

suna starts to dig into his bag, hand reaching in and then back out. one of his arms extended out to you, holding one of the same cellophane bags that had been taunting you all day.

this one held a cookie, the same kind as that day back at the store, and when you open the note, you can feel yourself grow lighter.

“to: y/n.

you’re kind of a dunse.”

and this time, there’s an indicator of the sender on the slip of paper, in the same handwriting as all of the others.

“R. S.”

you look to suna with widened eyes and a growing blush to your cheeks, your mouth slightly ajar when you ask him,

“…it was you?”

suna softly smirks at you, his hidden facade of mischievousness breaking as he replies,

“yeah, you should really think before you trust a miya with your locker combo.”

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao

——

Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).

The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.

Danny took out his phone.

“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”

Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”

“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”

“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.

“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”

“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”

“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”

“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”

“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.

“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”

“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”

Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.

Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.

Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.

“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.

If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.

——

Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.

“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.

Batman grunted a yes.

“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”

Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.

"Is this..."

"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."

Batman stared at the picture.

"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"

"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."

Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.

"I heard you had something about Luthor?"

Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."

Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.

"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.

"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.

"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"

Batman grunted.

"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."

Batman swiveled his head over. "What."

Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."

Batman stilled.

"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."

Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."

"And why not?"

Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"

"... Point."

[cimmanonrowl]

Boyfriend

Nothing in this world has ever baffled Aaron Hotchner more than your questionable taste in men. And after witnessing firsthand how shitty your boyfriend was, he made it his night’s mission to steal your mind from him and show you what you’ve been missing all along.

Pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader

Theme: smut heaven

Contents: unprotected rough sex, age gap, dom!aaron, breeding, filming, powerplay: boss/employee relationship, implied cheating.

You were the most sensible member of the BAU as far as Aaron is concerned.

In almost 5 years of working together, he’s never had a problem with you or your work ethic. You’re intelligent and logical, and you never made any rash decision that put yourself or anyone on the team in danger, nor did you ever compromise a case for any reckless, unaccounted reason. Years passed and all the doubts he initially had about you melted into a puddle of respect and adoration. And since then, you never heard him or anyone else contradict your arguments.

In your defense, being the youngest in the FBI gave you the unabating urge to follow orders and protocols as they were, to always play by the book exactly the way you were taught in the Academy. Or maybe because Morgan was right when he teasingly profiled you as someone with people-pleasing tendencies— especially to Hotch and Rossi, given they are higher-ups and had the longest experience in the Bureau.

Nothing was wrong with that, of course. You’re good at what you’re doing. You’re productive; and a valuable member of the team. Slowly over the past years, you’ve gained everyone’s trust and respect. And you’ve been made aware that everyone always has your back…

Unless the topic is your relationships.

“There’s a new Korean barbecue place down the block, do you want to join us?” You stopped midway through arranging your weekly reports as Spencer leaned against your table.

Glancing around the bullpen, you noticed Penelope and Derek standing by Emily’s desk, watching you and Spencer subtly from a distance. You almost snorted when Emily and Penelope scampered to look away, while Derek only crossed his arms and raised one of his eyebrows— like he always does when he’s pissed.

You leaned towards Spencer, whispering. “They know, don’t they?”

“Garcia knows,” He whispered back promptly. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I didn’t tell anyone.”

You stared at him suspiciously, eyes squinting a little. It’s just a joke. If there’s anyone in the team that you trust with your little secrets, that’s Spencer. But you’re curious if he knows how Penelope got wind of your secret date tonight. As far as you know, Spencer was the only person who knew about this.

“I don’t judge you...” He replied with a simple shrug. “You know, people who’ve grown attached to unhealthy relationships find it difficult to leave. Given your people-pleasing tendencies, I know you’re holding onto the chance of proving yourself to him. And you’re still waiting for him to realize your worth. It’s sad actually, now that I remember that.”

You gasped in offense and disbelief, making you slap your palm on his shoulder. While Spencer only grinned and chuckled at your reaction.

“Wait till you hear what Morgan has to say.”

You shivered at the thought. Derek has always been protective of you. Ever since you joined the team, he’s claimed that you’re his little sister. Not that it was a problem, of course, you absolutely love having an older brother. It’s just that… you don’t know how to act whenever he’s pissed because you never had a brother in the first place.

As you wandered your gaze to where your friends were standing, a worried frown lidded your expression. Derek hasn’t moved an inch and is pretty much still watching you, obviously seething in annoyance. On his side stood Emily and Penelope, both looking at you with guilty faces.

“He’s going to kill me,” you mumbled to yourself.

Spencer could only snort. “Yeah, right. I wonder why...”

You turned to him in resignation, heaving a deep sigh as you did so. You focused on arranging the folders on your desk before hitting him square on the chest with the documents.

“Enjoy the weekend, Dr. Reid,” You bid him goodnight before walking away.

“What about Korean barbecue?” He called out, raising both his arms in the middle of the office.

You whirled around to face them, still taking small steps backward.

“I’ve got a date!” You announced with a cheeky grin.

The door to Aaron’s office was left open as usual. From your desk earlier, you saw him working on some paperwork due for this week. There was a mountain of it on his table. And you saw him several times leaning on his chair and massaging his temple— not that you’re watching.

“Sir?” You knocked softly on the door surface to get his attention. He was focused on the document he was reading, his eyebrows tugged together in a scowl.

When he heard your voice, though, he glanced up and almost immediately caught your eyes.

“Hey…” He greeted shortly, smiling as he leaned on his swivel chair. “Come in.”

You mirrored his smile as you handed him the documents. “My reports, sir...”

He gave you a brief nod, thanking you promptly after accepting the pile of folders. You stood in front of him for a moment, taking in every bit of his features: his clean-cut hair, the dark circles under his eyes, the light stubble on his jaw— how can someone be that attractive while under stress? Good God.

“Everything okay?”

You blinked in confusion. “Sir?”

“You’re staring,” He pointed out, chuckling. “Are you visiting that Korean barbecue with Reid?”

Your eyes automatically darted to the glass window, seeing that everyone was still waiting for you at Emily’s table. Even JJ was there, listening to Morgan ranting in frustration.

“No, I have a date later…” You admitted shyly, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Ah…” His eyebrows perked in surprise. “But I heard Garcia wanting you to come with them, do they know about this date?”

You pursed your lips before shaking your head… then nodding. 

“They didn’t know— well Reid knew— then Garcia— then now everyone else.”

Aaron nodded slowly, trying to understand your point. “And I assume you don’t want them to know?”

A deep sigh unknowingly escaped your lips.

As much as the team tries not to profile each other, it comes out instinctively. One time after discovering your ex-boyfriend was commenting publicly on other women’s bikini posts, you got so distracted that Emily had to pull you aside to make sure you were alright. Then another time when you came across the secret account he made to continue flirting with other women, you got questioned by Hotch for being so distracted.

They were so adamant in knowing what was bothering you. This is why you always try not to bring your personal issues to work.

“I’m going out with James...”

As soon as those words came out, Aaron looked stunned.

“Come again?”

“James…” You mumbled, your voice nearly cracking in embarrassment. “We’re seeing each other… again…”

It would’ve been better if the floor cracked open and swallowed you alive. The way Aaron was staring at you in disbelief was enough to shrink you in shame. You could even see the disappointment in his eyes, which is way worse than being judged in your opinion.

“The guy who dumped you after knowing you’re earning more than him and thinks women should quit their jobs after marriage?” He asked, scowling.

“Nope, that’s Benedict.”

Aaron heaved a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. The sight was so funny you almost laughed at his face.

“Is James the guy who comments on bikini pictures?”

“That’s Mark, sir…” You smiled awkwardly, scratching your ear. “He… he’s the one with the… video…”

“The one who cheated on you and filmed everything?” His scowl deepened even more. Is that even possible?

“Yes... sir... but he said he changed— okay— time to leave.”

You bolted out of his office. With how his eyes turned sharp as he heard your argument, you knew you just pushed his button.

Now it’s a funny memory, but Aaron Hotchner used to be your dream. Everyone in the BAU knew you spent your first year crushing hard on him. Until a random weekend bar hopping crushed your dream. Truth or Dare. When Morgan dared Aaron to make out with the young lady by the bar counter, you learned Aaron doesn’t like younger girls.

That made you step back. He’d obviously like career women; the mature ones, elegantly gorgeous, maybe with a good figure, curves in the right places, big boobs—

All men are the same. What do you expect, honestly? That’s what your ex-boyfriends like the most. Also their reason for cheating on you. You’re not their type, and you shouldn’t act too surprised because you knew that in the first place. Or that they have needs to fulfill. Apparently, you lack both.

“Hey, you okay?” The warmth of Aaron’s palm pulled you out of your reverie. You turned to him fast, blinking in confusion.

“Y-yes, sir. Were you saying something?”

He pursed his lips a little, nodding towards the view outside the car window.

“We’ve been here for five minutes.”

“Oh…” Heat crept on your cheeks after taking a peek, realizing you’ve already arrived in your apartment building. “Right. I’m sorry, sir. I was just thinking.”

“Of that dumbfuck asshole?”

You chuckled awkwardly, baffled by his sudden choice of words. He’s never the type who curses out of nowhere. “Sir?” 

“He made you wait for three fucking hours,” He retorted, his voice calm— dangerously so. “The one you call ‘boyfriend.’”

“He is my boyfriend…”

He stared at you, unamused. “After everything he did?”

“Well…”

At least you know everyone was right: Derek, Penelope, Emily… Aaron. Maybe you’re a hopeless case. For someone decently smart, you’re a complete idiot. You should’ve seen this coming; these men will never change. There’s no way a smart woman would allow this to happen again.

The worst part is that you couldn’t even call your friends to pick you up after getting ditched. You just missed the last train, you couldn’t book a cab, and they’re all hanging out in a Korean restaurant— except Aaron. Which led him to bring you home instead.

“What? You'd still defend him?”

After a few lingering moments of just staring at each other, you decided to offer him a small smile instead of answering. You thanked him for the ride, bid him a good night, and told him to spend his weekend resting. With a sweet yet polite smile, you stepped out of his car.

But Aaron got out before you could even walk away, following you inside the building.

“I swear, I’m fine. You should go home, Aaron,” you insisted, trying to keep your voice steady.

Aaron walked in, trailing behind you, his presence and smell immediately filling your small apartment. You closed the door behind him and turned to find him standing in the middle of your living room, his gaze sweeping over the space before settling back on you.

“I’ll rest when I know you’re okay,” He gave you a small, almost imperceptible smile. “Nice apartment.”

“Thanks…” You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Can I get you...?”

Your words died in your throat as you found yourself staring into the concerned eyes of Aaron Hotchner. He stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, his expression stoic and something you couldn’t quite place.

“You know, I never understood your preference,” He began cautiously, his eyes directed at you. “You never made good decisions with guys, don’t you?”

“I know that, Aaron.”

“They’re all idiots. Does that turn you on?”

“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart racing as the words sank in.

“Does being treated like trash turns you on?”

A warm tear licked your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, feeling embarrassed and hurt by his words. Aaron didn’t move an inch but the way his eyes traveled along your face melted his irritation a little. Silently, he reached out and pulled you into an embrace, his arms solid and warm around your figure.

“Fucking hell…” He mumbled against your hair. “I try so fucking hard to be good to you and you let those schoolboys make you cry?”

You buried your face in his chest. “You’re the one making me cry right now.”

“It’s because I’m right.”

“I don’t need your lecture, Aaron Hotchner.”

You pulled back slightly to look at him. Your gaze collided, and you saw something shift in his eyes. The worried frown was still there, but there was something else— something more intense, subtly primal.

“If you’re expecting an apology then you’re wrong.” The muscle on his jaw ticked before he leaned toward your ear. “You know I can treat you so much better. I’d never make you wait and let someone else take you home. I can spend the entire night proving that to you.”

Without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if testing the waters and his reaction. But then you felt him respond, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss.

You melted into him, the warmth of his body and the firmness of his touch causing intrinsic need to erupt at the pit of your stomach. The kiss grew messier, wetter, and uncoordinated. His hands found the crest of your breast, caressing you through your shirt with gentle yet possessive strokes. 

He broke the kiss, his breath ragged. “Do you want this?” he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You nodded immediately, your own breath coming in short gasps. “I do, god, yes…”

You shivered at his touch, pressing your body closer to him. You found yourself unbuttoning your dress shirt, eagerly so, making Aaron smirk as his eyes followed your clumsy movements.

Once undone, you quickly threw your shirt on the ground. A satisfied glint flashed in Aaron’s eyes before he captured your lips again. This time, more urgent. You felt his arms snaking down your body.

“Should’ve known you’re a dirty slut...” A low chuckle rambled in his throat, his lips leaving soft kisses on your jaw. “Did you wear this red lingerie all day? Were you expecting that schoolboy to fuck you tonight, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes…” You moaned.

“Yes what, slut? You’re wearing this all day or that you wanted him to fuck you tonight?” He asked mockingly. “Tell me, baby, have you ever been fucked by a real man?”

“Aaron, please—” You let out a gasp, feeling your cunt getting wetter every second you spent untouched. “The left door– need you– please—”

“How greedy.”

Effortlessly, he perched you on his muscular arms, carrying you straight to the bedroom. All while you clung to him, your fingers tangling in his hair, your heart pounding with lust and anticipation.

He dropped you on the bed, his eyes dark with need. He took a moment to scan you, his gaze sweeping over your body with reverence.

“Take that pants off now. I want to see everything.”

The coldness of his voice sent tingles to your wet cunt. You quickly scrambled to your knees, your trembling hands stiffly finding their way to the button of your slacks. The thin fabric slid down your legs, exposing more of your body. You feel so exposed, all for his eyes.

“Fuck...” He breathed, palming his hard cock through his pants. “I always imagined how you’d look naked. You have no idea how much restraint it took me not to touch you every time we shared a room.”

A coil in your stomach tightened as he loosened his tie, carelessly tossing it on the ground. Now he’s left with his work shirt and pants, and the contrast of your nakedness alone excites you even more.

He stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his pointer finger tilting your chin upward. Just enough for you to meet his eyes.

“Didn’t you say you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” His lips trailed from your lips to your cheek, slowly, teasingly down to your jaw.

You whimpered. “Hmm… yeah…”

“Care to remind me what that boy did to you?” He taunted, his voice menacingly low. 

The warmth of his big, calloused hands explored the softness of your bare skin. You moaned softly, feeling his thumb and pointer finger rubbing one of your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

“He-” You swallowed thickly, clamping your thighs shut. “H-he cheated on me…”

Aaron hummed mockingly, tutting. “And you still want him here right now?”

“No…” You said quickly, blinking dazedly at him. “Want you, Aaron.”

“Is that how you talk to your boss, sweetheart?” He leaned backward, withdrawing his hand from touching you, one of his thick eyebrows raised in question. “For a cheating slut, I’d say you’re quite demanding.”

“Y-you, sir. Want you, please... please, fuck me, sir.”

You ignored the wetness pooling in between your thighs. His eyes were dark and piercing as he took your nakedness in, while you stared back innocently. You reached for his pants, resting your palm on his clothed pelvis.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You said in a whisper, quietly unbuckling his belt as you did so. “I promise, I won’t tell anyone.”

“You better keep your promise, little girl.”

You gave him a sweet smile, Aaron’s chest rose and fell with every breath. His gaze was fixed on your fingers as they fumbled on his belt. The air hummed with anticipation, mirroring the pounding of your heart against your ribs.

As the belt slid free, Aaron’s hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. Leaning in, he inserted two of his fingers into your mouth. And you suck diligently, wetting his fingers thoroughly, staring at him all while your hands blindly unzipped his pants. After a few tries, you finally tugged down his pants and underwear, making him hiss quietly.

“Aaron...”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He rasped, frowning at you in concern. “Do you want to stop?”

“Can we… can we film this?”

He glanced at the ceiling, chuckling in disbelief. You watched how his throat bobbed with every swallow, and you squeezed your thighs for some friction. God, you’re so wet.

“And who would you show that, baby?” He asked curiously, pumping his cock in slow motion as he waited for your answer. “Eyes up here, sweetheart. Do you want to show your boyfriend how much of slut you are for an older man’s cock? Is that what you want?”

“Y-yes, sir…”

And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, naked, with Aaron’s big cock deep in your throat, staring up at his phone. Aaron was sitting on the edge of the bed, filming everything.

“What a dirty slut, you like that?” He asked hoarsely, tugging you away from his cock. You gasped loudly, feeling Aaron’s precum and your saliva dripping at the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you, sir...” you smiled breathlessly, closing your eyes as he slapped his veiny cock on your cheek and lip, spreading the wetness across your face.

“Fuck, look at you. You’re so cockdrunk...” He mused, laughing to himself, making sure he was capturing everything on the video. “How does it feel to cheat with your boss, sweetheart?”

“G-good…” You gulped thickly. “Should’ve d-done this soon, sir…” You mumbled in a daze, opening your mouth to take him again but he firmly tapped your cheek to stop you from doing so.

“Lay down and open those pretty legs for me.”

The room smelled like sweat and sex, wrapping you both in the heat of the moment. Soft moans and whispers filled the air, bouncing at the four corners of the room.

You closed your eyes in embarrassment and lay quietly in the middle of the bed, following Aaron’s order. In your past relationships, nothing was ever like this. It was always quick, sometimes even one-sided. You’ve never felt confident with your body, and it’s not like you had too many experiences to learn and grow your confidence from.

“I said open your legs, slut. Are you dumb?” Aaron slapped your thigh using his free hand, the one not holding the phone. “Show me how wet that pussy is.”

You shut your legs even more, shaking your head lightly.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t tell me you’re shy...” He tutted, feining pity. “Open those legs right now or I’m leaving. Maybe you can call your little boyfriend to take care of you.”

You quickly shook your head, a whimper caught in your throat. You open your legs a little while your hands still covered your wet, glistening cunt. Aaron frowned at the sight, obviously displeased by your slow, unsure actions.

“Don’t test me, little girl.” 

With an impatient sigh, he separated your thighs using his vacant hand. A shiver ran down your spine as the cold air hit your wetness. You watched in silence as Aaron focused his phone on your dripping cunt, running the pad of his middle finger up your clit down to your wet slit.

“You’re so wet, sweetheart. Who’s this for, hm?” He taunted, waiting for your answer.

Your toes curled in anticipation, mumbling. “Yours, sir…”

“Louder, slut. I’m trying to fucking record, remember?”

The world around you melted away as he pressed his middle finger inside your wet cunt. You felt feverish, growing even more desperate as he slowly moved his finger. Your breathing became ragged and heavy as you slowly felt the rhythm.

“Aaron… oh god…” You rasped breathlessly, both your hands reaching for his wrist as he added another finger. “That feels so g-good, sir…”

“Yeah?” He mocked, his teeth sank on his bottom lip as he watched his fingers assault your pussy through the screen of his phone. “Good girl, baby, look at you taking my fingers well.”

“I’m c-close, sir—” Your voice trembled with the intensity of your upcoming orgasm. “Sir, ple—”

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

That’s all it took for your resolution to crumble. Your orgasm racked through you with so much force, your back arching, your lips opened to a silent scream. You never came that hard before. And good God, what have you been missing all along? Aaron watched you with half-lidded eyes, his chest warm with lust and adoration.

“You’re gorgeous, baby.”

You hummed mindlessly, still coming down from your high.

“Need you now, Aaron... Please…” You croaked, throat dry. “Need your cock inside.”

“Say that to the camera, slut.”

You propped yourself a little, immediately facing the phone he was holding. “Need your big cock inside me, sir. Please, fuck me…”

The raw desperation in your voice made him smile. “Ride me then, sweetheart.”

You wasted no time and scrambled to your knees. Aaron deftly took his position and laid on his back. You licked your lips as you stared at his huge cock resting on his stomach. You just know that he’d be big… you just never thought you would see it firsthand. He’s thick and long, with veins decorating it.

Heat crept on your cheeks as you climbed on his lap and sat on his thick cock, grinding your wet pussy and moaning as you felt him pulsate beneath you. You focused your eyes on the camera that was still focused on you, your hands moving to your breasts as you continued grinding on him.

Aaron leaned forward a little and groped one of your tits, slapping it lightly with a breathy sigh.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”

Your blush deepened. “Condom, sir?”

“Up to you, sweetheart. I’m not active.”

“I’m on birth control…”

Smiling, you took his cock and ground the tip against your wet pussy, letting out a staggering breath as you sank in slow motion. The thickness of his big cock stretched you like never before. You’ve never taken something as big as this. You bit your lower lip as you felt the slight burn of the stretch, focusing on how Aaron’s chest rose in heavy breaths. 

“You’re so warm, baby…” Aaron moaned quietly. “Good girl. Fuck, you feel so good. Go on, sweetheart.”

It didn’t take long for your movement to become desperate. You started bouncing up and down with vigor, chasing both of your highs. Aaron’s big cock reached spots inside your body you never knew existed, his neatly trimmed pubes tickling your sensitive clit. Your moans grew louder and louder as he kept hitting the spongy spot inside you.

“Oh god, sir…” You moaned pathetically, bouncing on his cock in pure desperation. “Ruin me with your cock, Aaron… you feel so good.”

“You’re so tight and warm, sweetheart.” You frowned at him in confusion when he handed you his phone. “Continue filming while I fuck you.”

You accepted his phone and focused the camera on him. His rough hands found your hips. Without warning, he started pistoling his hips, ramming his big cock in and out of your trembling body. You felt the burn of every drag of his cock and you’re not even sure if you’re still capturing something on your video.

“I’m coming, baby…” He said breathlessly. “I’ll fill you with my cum, is that what you want?”

You helped him chase his orgasm by meeting his hard thrusts. “Yes, yes- sir, yes, fill me with your c-cum.”

“Can your boyfriend do this, sweetheart?”

“No, sir, no–” You shook your head frantically, tears stinging your eyes. “O-only you.”

“Damn right, slut. I’m the only one who can do this to you.”

You’re not sure of whatever response left your mouth. You’re a babbling, mindless mess. A cockslut who can only think of Aaron’s big dick ruining you in the nastiest way possible. You can feel your peak nearing, making you whimper in ferality.

“I’ll fill you over and over—” His thick fingers tightened around your waist, leaving red, angry marks on your wake. “Until that’s the only thing you can think about.”

A shrill scream escaped your lips on a particularly hard thrust, feeling Aaron’s big cock pulsate inside you. After a few seconds, warm ropes of cum filled your womb. You shuddered at the feeling, clamping your thighs as they trembled excruciatingly. You didn’t even notice that you already let go of Aaron’s phone, completely forgotten on the cushion.

“F-fuck… Aaron—” You moaned in relief, craning your neck to the ceiling. Flashing lights sparkled even on your closed eyes.

His wet lips trailed on your sweaty neck, his teeth sinking in, leaving fresh sets of marks. “I can be a better boyfriend than him, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

You hummed shakily but you didn’t say anything. The way you’ve gone nonverbal filled Aaron with so much pride.

His hands found your waist again, making you whine as his cock slid out of you. Effortless, he thew you back on the bed, now on all fours. The new position felt primal, and exposing. You quickly felt the tip of Aaron’s hard cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt, fucking in the trail of cum leaking out of your used pussy.

“I can do this all night, sweetheart. You won’t even think about him.”

I’d love to interact with everybody! And I sure do appreciate any thoughts or reactions. Don’t forget to drink your water and keep slaying, babes!

[moonstruckme]

for thawing out, i see how you've already characterized the reader as kind of the calm, even keeled one of the group and i would LOVE to just see her stand up for herself and absolutely blow up after getting pushed too far by the boys (a little mean of me to want her to go through that but-) but yes i love me a good out of character moment that kind of make the characters be like "oh shit maybe we shouldn't be acting this way-" love you babe 🫶

Hi lovely, idk if this is exactly what you had in mind but thanks sm for requesting! Love you <3

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

cw: modern au, chronic pain, implied past abuse, hurt no comfort (for some)

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.9k words

When Remus arrives at your apartment the next morning, Sirius is already standing at the front door. His arms are crossed over his chest as he glowers in Remus’ direction, but it’s difficult to find him very intimidating when his nose is pink from the cold. 

“Oh,” he says, feeling awkward. “Hello.” 

“Hi,” Sirius replies drily. “What are you doing here?” 

Remus shrugs. Fine. If Sirius wants to be a prick (and what else is new), he can do that too. “I didn’t think you’d come. Have you knocked already?” 

“Of course I knocked,” he all but sneers. “Why would you assume I wasn’t going to be here? I said I would be.” 

“I honestly didn’t expect you’d be able to drag yourself out of bed.” 

Sirius looks ready to make a retort, but your door opens. You look surprised to see both boys on your doorstep, your smile tentative. Remus still doesn’t understand how you can do that at such an early hour. 

“Hi,” you say. Then you turn to Sirius, grin widening as you pinch the frozen tip of his nose fondly. “You made it.” 

“Obviously I made it!” The other boy’s voice takes on a wounded tone, and Remus has to tuck a smile into his scarf. Sirius must suspect, because his gaze narrows.

“How did you get this address?” he asks Remus. 

Remus feels his brow crinkle. It’s not as if he’s the one you’re in danger of. 

“He texted me last night, and I gave it to him,” you answer for him. “I sort of assumed you’d oversleep.” 

Sirius makes an indignant scoffing noise, but he appears to have nothing more to say. He seems in especially brutish form today. You’re as unphased by his moods as usual, hooking your arm through his. 

“I’m sorry to get you both up so early, but I suppose two guard dogs are even better than one.” You squeeze Sirius’ bicep affectionately, and the look you send Remus is pure sweetness. “It’s really nice of you both to come.” 

Something warm and fond blooms in Remus’ chest. Sirius mutters some disgruntled sort of assent. 

You grin. “And now, we can all buy our own drinks!” 

“Oh, fuck this then,” Sirius’ irritating pugnacious tone is back, though now it’s at least partly for show. “I didn’t realize that was part of the deal. I want out.” 

You only make an amused pffting sound, pulling him playfully against your side. 

Remus falls back to let the two of you walk alongside each other on the sidewalk. It’s odd and occasionally entertaining to watch you, so entirely familiar and at ease with each other. It’s the sort of relationship Remus hasn’t had in years, and he’s beginning to question whether he ever had a bond quite as close as yours. It’s obvious even from the outside that the pair of you know each other inside and out, and that you love each other just as deeply. But Sirius’ love is another thing entirely; the way he looks at you is almost too painful to witness. 

Remus doesn’t understand why Sirius hasn’t pursued you. He certainly prefers it this way; it makes his job considerably easier with things platonic and professional between the pair of you, but it just doesn’t add up. Sirius strikes him as the sort of cocksure prat who goes for what he wants, every time. He’s certainly arrogant enough to be sure he’ll get it, and admittedly, with his looks and devil-may-care attitude, there aren’t many people Remus can see turning him down. (They definitely should, but they likely wouldn’t.) Perhaps, after knowing him so long and working with him so closely, you’re simply too smart to get entangled with the likes of Sirius Black. 

You do eventually look back to call Remus up to join the two of you. Sirius looks irked at this, and Remus wishes he could say he was more mature, but he goes in large part because of it. You loop your other arm through his and make sure to include him in your conversation the rest of the way to the rink. 

The morning’s practice goes by with much of the same forced camaraderie. You’re friendly and receptive, Sirius is loud and irksome, but overall Remus is pleased with how things are going. You’re improving every day, to a degree Remus can’t help but admire. He can easily see you perfecting this routine by the Olympics in less than a month, which certainly defies his expectations from when he first started coaching you. Sirius is the same as always; he’s not as consistent or as controlled as Remus would like, but he doesn’t seem inclined to change and his form is (though Remus wouldn’t admit it aloud even at knifepoint) truly beautiful to watch. 

By the end, he has only one thing to say. 

“I think we need to up the ante.” 

You look up from where you’re putting on your skate guards, intrigued. “How do you mean?”

“You’re going to perfect this routine.” Remus can say that with confidence now. A nice little bonus is the way your face lights with bashful pride when he does. “You’ll get plenty of execution points from that, but if you want to really compete it wouldn’t hurt to add a higher difficulty move.” 

Sirius looks up, his gaze watchful. 

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

“A death spiral,” says Remus. “We could fit it in during the lower-level sequence towards the end. You should be ending with more of a crescendo anyway.” 

You’re nodding. “An outside death spiral?” 

“And backwards, if you’re up for it.” 

“No way.” Sirius’ skates are already in his bag. You look over at him, bemused, but he’s looking at Remus. “You can’t fuck with the program this late. It’s only a couple of weeks before we leave.” 

Reluctantly, Remus turns to face him. His eyes are like a brewing storm. “And would you like to medal whilst you’re there?” 

“We don’t need this to medal.” 

“You don’t know what the competition will be like. You need to bring everything you can to the routine.” 

Sirius kisses his teeth. He stands, looking at Remus with barely repressed malice. “A backwards outside death spiral isn’t something you can just toss in at the last minute. We’re only just starting to manage what we have in the routine already! It’s too risky.” 

Remus fights the urge to roll his eyes. Sirius isn’t subtle; it’s clear what this is really about. “She’s going to be fine,” he says firmly, refusing to back down when the other boy's eyes narrow. “She’s perfectly capable of deciding for herself whether she wants to do this, and your feelings cannot be the deciding factor here. The death spiral is a staple of pair routines. You have to take some risks if you want to compete at this level.” 

“Oh, do you?” Sirius’ laugh is cold and dead. “Is that what you did? If it’s so fucking easy, why don’t we get out there so you can show us how it’s done?” He juts his chin towards the ice, jaw set and eyes blazing. “You can let us see how great it works out to take risks.” 

Remus doesn’t even feel the ache in his hip as he takes two quick steps towards Sirius, towering over the other boy with his blood pounding in his ears. Sirius is forced to look up, but he turns his chin up defiantly. His face hardens as he takes in a short, quick breath. 

You cram yourself between them. 

It’s like snapping back into his body. Remus stumbles back, his hip screaming at the hurried motion. He bites the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste iron, collapsing backwards onto the bench while you put yourself in front of Sirius like a human shield. Your expression is wrathful. 

“Do not do that,” you growl. You reach behind you, taking Sirius’ forearm in your grasp as though to keep him from moving. “God, why do you both have to be such dickheads to each other? We’re done here.” 

You march straight past Remus, dragging Sirius along on your other side like a dog on a leash. He looks about as shell-shocked as Remus feels. Your outburst knocked him flat on his ass, literally. It’s not that Remus didn’t think you were capable of yelling; he suspected you had fangs, but the venom came as a surprise. 

He winces when the door bangs shut behind you. They probably deserve that. He doesn’t envy Sirius, who’s likely to get a lengthy lecture from you on the walk home, but Remus does realize this could mean him losing his job. Trading petty remarks with Sirius had almost begun to feel like part of his role, but he’d never expected to make you so furious. He doesn’t know what it will mean for him that he has. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

During the entirety of Remus’ long, steamy shower, he cannot stop thinking of the look on Sirius’ face. The way his eyes had almost changed color, going from a murky gray to blue like the hottest part of a flame. He’d looked almost pleading, for half a second after Remus first brought up the death spiral, before his face hardened back into harsh stoniness. He keeps fixating on that look, that second where the dynamic between them seemed on the brink of shifting before it didn’t. But maybe it never could have. Maybe Remus imagined the whole thing; it was only half a second, anyway. 

Regardless, he feels stupid for stooping to Sirius’ level. He’s better than that, he hopes, but in the last few weeks he’s let the other boy bring out the worst in him. He decides that if you don’t fire him, he’s going to try harder to be above it. If Sirius wants to trade insults like a child, Remus can treat him like a child; with patience and a repertoire of aloof platitudes, but he won’t engage with him anymore. 

He’s put on a pair of pajama pants and is moving the waistband to hold a pack of frozen peas to his hip when there’s a knock on his door. He leans back to peer through the window, and there you are, blowing into your hands and shivering on his doorstep. 

Remus groans as he gets up. He was really hoping to have at least one night of relaxation before having to have this conversation. 

You must stop rubbing your hands together when you hear him opening the door. “Hi,” you say. 

“Hi,” Remus replies, amused despite himself. They’re having one of those odd nights where snow falls but doesn’t stick, except to you apparently. Little white flakes are tangled in your hair and dusted across your shoulders. Remus can see some between your eyelashes when you blink. You’re stiff as a board, but there’s no hiding the tiny waves of trembles that shake your frame. 

“I hope it’s okay that I didn’t call first.” Your voice is teetering on the brink of a chitter.

“Yeah, it’s alright.” Remus really shouldn’t feel so warm towards you when you’re likely here to fire (or at the very least, berate) him, but you do look terribly cold. “Would you like to come in?” 

“Yeah, thanks.” You step inside so fast he hardly has time to make room for you, and the sleeve of your coat brushes against his bare chest, making him shiver. Remus realizes then that he’s not wearing a shirt, but he decides not to care; it is his house (or his rental, at least), and you’re the one who showed up unannounced. He’s entitled to be as underdressed as he likes. 

This small bit of indignance, though founded entirely from a battle within himself, reminds Remus to be miffed with you. 

“If you’re going to ask me to apologize to Sirius,” he says, going to the kitchen to put the kettle on (he may be miffed, but he is still Welsh), “you can save it. I have no intention of getting into a row like that with him again, but I was not the one who was being unreasonable.” 

You rub your lips together, nodding. “Yeah, I agree. You shouldn’t apologize to him.” 

Remus feels his eyebrows draw together. “Okay…good. Because I’m not planning on it,” he says, just to be sure you understand. “He was completely out of line.” 

You nod again. “He was.” 

Remus finds his eyes straying to the door while he mulls over whether he’s feeling impolite enough to ask the next logical question. Then what are you doing here?

You take in a breath, letting it whoosh out of you. “I came because I want to apologize.” 

It’s impossible to keep the surprise off his face. “You?” 

“Yeah.” You rock a bit on your feet, and Remus realizes you’re still wearing your coat. Either you don’t plan to stay long, or you’re too anxious to take it off without an invitation. “I’m sorry I shouted at you earlier. It was really harsh—I mean, I was right, but I didn’t need to be cruel about it.” You glance to the side, a bit of bashfulness softening your voice. “I also shouldn’t have called you a dickhead.” 

A little chuckle escapes him. “We were being dickheads.” 

“You were,” you agree, “but I still shouldn’t have said it. I don’t want to be like that. I’m sorry, and I hope you still want to stay with us.” 

You look back at him, your expression intentionally firm but your eyes beseeching, and some part of Remus melts. He and Sirius get into fights all the time—loud ones, with shouting and name calling and absolutely no holds barred—but you snap at them once, and here you are. Having walked here by yourself in the cold because you feel bad about it. 

“Let me get your coat,” he offers.

You take your tea to the couch, where you curl up automatically on the side opposite Remus’, pulling your legs in so he can pass between you and the coffee table. Remus picks his peas back up as he sits carefully, stifling a groan. It’s a bit embarrassing to ice his hip in front of you, but the pain has become too much to ignore. 

You wince as you watch him settle them underneath his waistband. “Is that because of me?” 

He can’t very well tell you the truth when you sound so guilty. “No,” he says. “I have to do this a lot.” That part’s not a lie. 

You nod, still looking sorry. Remus is grateful when you move on quickly. 

“Just so you know,” you say, “Sirius probably won’t apologize to you either.” 

Remus almost snorts. “Yeah, I wasn’t anticipating he would.” 

You smile ruefully. “I know he probably feels bad about saying what he did—he knows he had no right—but he just gets so caught up in anger sometimes. If it helps at all, today was just an especially hard day for him. He’s always…extra on edge around this time of year. You learn not to take the things he says personally.” 

Remus studies you through narrowed eyes. He blows steam off his tea. “Does he do that to you often?” 

You shake your head. “I don’t typically goad him,” you say with no small amount of humor. Or pointedness. 

He lifts a brow. He’s already told you he won’t be apologizing for giving as good as he gets. 

You sigh, your expression going somber. “Listen, I know Sirius can get really—” you shake your head again, blowing out a breath “—really quite hot headed, but you can’t get in his face like that. His life has—well, it’s not my place to tell you about what his life has been, but even when he says things like that, you can’t act all threatening just because you’re having a spat, okay?” 

Remus feels his brow wrinkle. “Threatening?” 

Your face softens. “You looked like you were about to hit him,” you say gently. 

Something inside Remus gutters. “I did?” 

You nod, looking almost apologetic. He feels nauseous. 

“I didn’t…” 

“I don’t think you would have,” you clarify. “I’m not saying I thought you were going to hit him, I just know how Sirius works. And from his perspective, I know how it looked. You can’t do that to him.” 

“I don’t want to do that to anyone.” Remus sounds injured even to his own ears, and so he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes to shut out the pained pinch of your mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after a few moments. “I really had no idea that’s how it looked. I think I got too caught up in being angry about what he said, but it won’t happen again.” 

“I know.” Your voice is gentle. You set a hand on his knee, tentative but there. “I didn’t come here to make you feel bad. It’s okay, just…now you know. For next time.” Remus opens his eyes again, and you smile wryly. “You can shout at him all you want. Don’t let him dish it out without making him take it, but just stay away from physical stuff like that, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Remus agrees hoarsely. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t sweat it.” You give his knee a friendly pat, leaning back against the couch cushions and sipping your tea. 

Again, Remus marvels at you. Sirius fights for you every day, whether you ask him to or not, loud and bold and relentless in his devotion to you. He wonders if Sirius knows that even when he doesn’t ask, in your own way, you go to bat for him too.

[arainywriter]

i wonder how the rat grinders felt when they realized that not only are the bad kids insanely good adventurers, but they also love each other.

like, i can just imagine the high 5 heroes first starting out, and they're excited and nervous because they all just met and hit it off, and they're going to be an adventuring party now! and then they hear about another group of freshmen who got detention together and are forced to be an adventuring party, but also they got into their fight (an actual fight!) and they totally killed the lunch lady!

and maybe they were a little envious because the bad kids got actual experience, but they pushed that aside. they would get to have their own adventure in their own time! and it's a little sad that the bad kids were forced together instead of getting to choose like they did. and then months go by, and they realize they might not have as much in common as they thought, and maybe they start to really only talk when they're in the woods killing rats, but hey, at least they chose each other!

and then the bad kids kill the acting principal, unravel a whole apocalypse that was about to happen, and save the world, and the high 5 heroes realize they just spent all of freshman year killing rats. and then sophomore year happens, and they probably see how close the bad kids, how they literally revolve around each other, and some of them literally live in the same house as each other. the bad kids go on a big world-saving adventure again, and they see videos on the bad kid's website of them having a great time being an adventuring party. and maybe they look at the people they chose to be an adventuring party with, and they realize they really don't care about each other that much.

i wonder if they looked at the bad kids and realized they had everything the rat grinders wanted: favoritism from the school, honed skills from actual fights, world-saving adventures, and a family. i wonder if that's when they really started to hate them.

[roseyuri]

⋆｡𖦹°‧ PUSHIN’ N PULLIN’ kim minji x reader

𝜗𝜚 MINJI & YN BEING AND OLD MARRIED COUPLE FOR FIVE MINUTES 972k veiws

౨ৎ warnings: idol!au, 6th member reader, minji and yn argue like it’s their 9-5 job… again, yn and minji from pushin’ n pullin’

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP ONE

“yn, you’ve been quite popular lately huh?” the interviewer said to yn, this was new jeans first comeback and their first time being on a radio show and yn seemed to be the target of questions so far with her popularity right off the bat after their debut.

”she’s everyone’s ideal type.” another one of the guys added as the watched her bashfully smile while laughing nervously, brushing the comments off.

“why are you acting all shy, we all know you have a big ego.” minji cuts in looking at yn who sat across the table from her and immediately gave the girl a deadly glare while everyone in the room laughs.

“if I have a big ego you have a big mouth.” yn snaps back at minji quick not even flinching when haerin pinched her arm, while everyone laughs even harder not even realizing this wasn’t some kind of playful banter between minji and yn.

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP TWO

“you know me like no other…” yn sang towards the mic that’s in front of her, she swayed to the live band feeling the music.

“see me like no other, and I think I like your point of view…” she sang the words beautifully before looking at minji who raised her brow at yn questioning why the girl was staring at her.

as danielle sang her lines all yn did was stick her tongue out at minji, causing minji to playfully move her face closer to yn but definitely way to close for yn’s comfort.

yn screeched in her mic the sound interrupting danielle while minji bursted out laughing at the way yn embarrassed herself.

as much as yn wanted to give minji a peice of her mind because she hated when minji did that, she saw the look their manager gave them and decided to just look straight ahead for the rest of the song.

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP THREE

the group was gathered in a comfy decorated room for their anniversary live, having a casual conversation about their day. the camera captured minji and yn sitting on the couch together, with minji casually resting her arm on the backrest behind yn.

“yn, remember that time you got lost in the building after practice?” haerin asked, giggling at the memory.

yn groaned, covering her face with her hands. “don’t remind me. that was so embarrassing.”

minji leaned in closer, teasing, “you were so panicked that you called me five times in a row. you were practically in tears.”

yn glared at minji, her cheeks flushing. “I was not in tears! I was just... concerned.”

minji chuckled, patting Yn on the back. “sure, let’s call it that. but who came to rescue you, huh?”

yn sighed, knowing where this was going. “you did, okay? you came to rescue me.”

minji grinned triumphantly, giving yn a nudge. “that’s right. see, you need me around.”

yn rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the annoyed smile on her face. “yeah, well, don’t get too cocky. It’s not like I’d get lost again.”

minji leaned back, looking at yn with a knowing smile. “we’ll see about that.”

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP FOUR

the group was filming behind-the-scenes content for their fans. the camera captured yn trying to tie her shoelaces while minji stood beside her, impatiently tapping her foot.

“hurry up, we’re going to be late,” minji scolded, leaning down to help yn tie the laces.

“I can do it myself,” yn grumbled, swatting minji’s hands away.

“you’re taking forever,” minji retorted, finally giving up and crouching down to finish the task herself. “you know, sometimes I feel like I’m raising a child.”

yn pouted, crossing her arms as she watched minji tie the laces perfectly. “I’m not a child, you’re just bossy.”

minji finished and stood up, ruffling yn’s perfectly done hair causing the girl the glare at minji with a smug smile. “you’re right, but at least you know who’s in charge here.”

as minji walked ahead of yn, yn shook her head the camera before following behind the girl.

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP FIVE

during a live, the members were reading comments from fans when one particular message caught their attention.

“yn and minji, you two argue like an old married couple,” hyein read out loud, causing the rest of the members to giggle.

yn scoffed, “yeah, well, minji’s the one who always starts it.”

minji, who was sitting beside yn, shook her head in mock disbelief, “excuse me? you’re the one who always has to have the last word.”

“oh please, I just defend myself because you never stop nagging,” yn shot back, glaring at minji.

the fans flooded the chat with laughing, thoroughly entertained by their banter. meanwhile, the other members simply watched with amused smiles, knowing this was just another typical day for minji and yn

⋆｡𖦹°‧ CLIP SIX

during a photo shoot for a magazine, the concept required the members to pose in pairs, showing off their chemistry and friendship. naturally, minji and yn were paired together for some reason that two girls could never understand . the photographer asked them to do a playful pose, so minji put her arm around yn’s shoulders, pulling her closer.

as they posed yn couldn’t help but groan. “minji, you’re holding me too tight!”

minji side eyed yn , tightening her grip just a little more. “I’m just making sure you don’t run away.”

yn whined, trying to wiggle out of minji’s hold. “I’m not going anywhere! but seriously, loosen up a bit.”

the photographer snapped a few shots, capturing their natural banter. “perfect, just like that! You two are so comfortable with each other.”

both yn and minji side eyed the man at his words.

[harryspet]

well kept [5] r. cameron

[warnings] dark!ceo!rafe x reader, size difference, billionaire!older!rafe, shy!reader with low self-esteem, reader is a person who stutters, boss x personal assistant, heavy abuse of power, emotional/mental manipulation, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: even longer chapter :)

word count: 5.3k

In which Rafe presents you with his plan for your future and you question the true cost of his offer.

well kept masterlist

You breathed easy for the first time in a long while. You laughed, smiled, and your heart beat at a normal pace. You sipped your drink not from nervousness but from a desire to truly enjoy yourself. The evening was about fun and connection, and you were determined to embrace it.

The week following your cabin trip had been a deep pit of depression. Your friends, concerned by your obvious distress, had insisted you join them for the weekend. They only saw the stress of work weighing on you, Rafe’s hidden bruises were invisible to them. You had opted for jeans and a crop top, deliberately avoiding a dress that might reveal the lingering marks of his anger. 

It was an act of rebellion to wear something Rafe hadn’t picked out but it was freeing. It was time you accepted that he didn’t own you 24/7, he had no right to you two days out of the week.

You bought your friends drinks, a part of the new perk that came with having salary. You liked treating them but every swipe of your card reminded you of all you were putting up with to get it. 

What Rafe did to you, he did out of selfishness, no one who cared for you truly could treat you like he did. You certainly weren’t a couple like everyone in Rafe’s close circle assumed you were. You didn’t know much about relationships or what real love looked like, but you were certain of one thing: whatever you had with Rafe would never evolve into something warm and tender enough to be labeled as love. You were reclaiming some normalcy. Or at least, that was what you hoped for. 

The three of you had decided to move the party back to your apartment at 2 AM, and the city lights flickered like stars in the darkened sky. Imani, with her arm securely interlocked with yours, clung to you, her presence both comforting and grounding amidst the night’s chaos.

You squeezed into the backseat, chatter and laughter from the evening buzzed in your ears. Angel was making smalltalk with the driver because that was just the type of person she was. Closest to the window, you checked your phone for the first time all night. Three messages from Rafe. Your heart started to beat in the rattled way it had been, pressing against your ribcage in a way that made you feel like you couldn’t breathe. 

Two images of you. Outfits you’d sent him. Along with a message. 

For Monday and Tuesday. - R.C. 

Sent at ten the night before. Imani leaned closer and you locked your phone, shoving it between your legs. 

“He’s really texting you? It’s Saturday.”

“Sunday now,” You tried to not sound rattled as you met her eyes.

“Like that makes a difference,” You expected her tone to be light given the vodka on her breath and silly pop songs playing on the radio, “No wonder you’re going crazy.”

“Crazy?” You laughed but it came out hollow, “Y-You guys thought I was sad and now I’m going crazy?”

“Yes,” She spoke matter-of-factly, “And it’s strange that you won’t tell us anything about him.”

“I don’t wanna talk about this,” You said, realizing she wasn’t going to drop it.  You wondered if this was her plan, to get you drunk and then pry out all the gossip about your new boss.

“I’m really worried, Y/N,” She said, “You don’t have to tell us everything but at least … let us help. We can help, I promise.”

Angel tuned into the conversation, realizing it had gone serious, “Yeah, my Mom and Dad are literally cops, Y/N. Just say the word-” 

“I promise it’s not that serious, Angel,” you said, shaking your head. The idea of involving the police felt almost laughable given the magnitude of Rafe’s wealth and influence. “I told you g-g-g-guys, he’s just a demanding asshole.”

“If it’s not that serious than why has he been over at our apartment? If you’re not sleeping together or not dating?”

“It’s complicated,” You spoke robotically. 

“We want to be there for you,” Angel added. You wanted to believe that. If you told them the truth, you’d have to explain why you hadn’t walked away yet. Rafe had given you every reason to quit and yet here you were. 

“You guys are there for me. I-I-I appreciate this night so much. I’ve just b-b-b-been letting work consume me. You guys have pulled me out of my fog. This next wwww-week will be better because I’m actually taking care of myself.”

It was an excuse, a way to rationalize why you hadn’t walked away from Rafe yet. You started to believe it, convincing yourself that things would get better just because you were trying to take care of yourself now.

“Just because he’s rich doesn’t mean he gets to have your body,” The world seemed to go quiet after Imani spoke those words. The music quieted and both you and Angel stared at her, the heavy silence enveloping the three of you. 

“She’s right, you know,” Angel said softly. 

How had she seen so clearly what you were trying to hide? Why were they prying into your life? You were an adult, after all. You should have the right to make your own decisions, however flawed they might seem to others. But their concern felt invasive, as if they were prying into a private struggle you were barely managing to keep under control.

Pity. 

Your best friends pitied you, “Oh, y-you’re not serious,” You smiled crazily, “He’s not …I’m nnn-n-not …you both have it so so wrong.”

They stared at you, trying to guage your reaction, but your heart and brain were going crazy. You couldn’t pick what emotion to convey because you were feeling all of them. 

“I’m drunk,” You rested your head back, “I’m so drunk.”

As the rideshare pulled up to your apartment building, you fumbled with your seatbelt, eager to escape the heavy conversation, “Y/N, we didn’t mean to upset you,” You heard Angel say at they followed you out of the car. 

“I’m okay. So okay.”

You wanted to hurry inside the lobby but felt a hand wrap around your arm, “Y/N,” Imani stopped you. 

You whipped your head around, panicked, “I’m fine. I sss-said I’m fine.”

“You boss’s car is parked over there.”

You followed her pointed finger, and your blood ran cold. There it was—Rafe’s sleek black car, parked conspicuously outside your building. “Wha—” you stammered, unable to process the sight of it, “Oh.”

“Why the fuck is he here?” Imani cursed. 

“I’ll meet you guys inside–”

“Go talk to him but we’re standing right here until you’re done,” Imani crossed her arms in front of her and gave you pointed look. 

“Angel,” You looked at you other friend, pleading. 

She shook her head, “We’re standing here, Y/N.”

“Fine,” You whispered. It was a quiet declaration of your frustration, a statement of your internal struggle. 

They didn’t trust you. You could take care of yourself. This would upset Rafe, you knew it would. You took a deep breath as you wandered towards the small parking lot beside your building. His bright truck lights shined against the brick of the building and you saw his arm resting outside the window, fingers drumming nervous on the frame. You pulled at your crop top, wanting to force it to be longer, as you got closer. 

“Y/N,” His voice cut through the night air with a sharp edge. 

Tonight, Rafe’s blue eyes were wild. Instead of the usual darkness you saw behind his pupils, you saw wildness. Dark circles under his eyes spoke of sleepless nights, and his other hand was busy rubbing worried circles over his buzzed haircut, a nervous habit you hadn’t seen before.

“Rafe, wh-what are you doing out here?” You dropped the formalities. It felt wrong to address him with respect, more than it usually did, when he was sitting outside of your apartment at two in the morning. 

He looked you over once, before his door opened, and he climbed out. Dressed in a polo and khaki shorts, he left his car running, before he was standing in front of you. Only a foot away and already you weren’t breathing correctly. He moved closer but you said, “You shouldn’t touch me.”

Hurt, confused, he gave you a look you hadn’t seen before, “Why not?”

You gestured as subtly as you could, to your two friend who were settled under the awning that hung over your apartment buildings entrance, “My roommates are waiting for me.”

Rafe’s jaw ticked, before his hands found his hips, “Right,” He nodded before he laughed, “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just feel crazy tonight, you know?”

Yes, you knew. Now your crazy was starting to feel like nothing compared to whatever was building inside of your boss. He was different tonight, younger, and out of control, “What are you doing out here?” You asked again, “It’s two in the mmm-morning.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t mean to show up like this. I just wanted to talk to you. I came earlier and you weren’t here and I … I started spiraling, you know? You’ve been out all night. I don’t like …I just felt fucking nervous.”

“Nervous b-because I went out with mmm-mmm-my friends?” Your words were cautious but you couldn’t help that your eyebrows raised in confusion. 

“I needed to see you.”

“You see me now,” You said, “What … what is it?”

Rafe took a breath, “I made a mistake at the cabin and I think, ever since then, you’ve been distant.”

You nodded as you tried to understand his meaning. He made a mistake when he spanked you with a belt, making two of his close acquaintances listen to you scream, and leaving you to cry yourself to sleep. The distance he now complained about was a direct result of his actions—a defense mechanism you’d put in place to protect yourself. And yet, here he was, expressing frustration over your response, as if your withdrawal was the real issue rather than his behavior.

“Rafe, honestly, this isn’t h-h-helping … I d-d-don’t know if I can handle this right now. I don’t know if I can be who you need me to be,” You took a step back and you were comforted by the fact that he couldn’t take a step towards you. He wouldn’t make a scene, not in front of your roommates. Maybe you could forgive their intrusiveness. 

Rafe seemed to tense at your words and you watched as his eyes wandered down the sidewalk towards your friends, “Okay, uhm …they say something to you?” His voice carried a note of suspicion, as if their presence was somehow a direct affront to him.

“They’re my friends,” you replied tersely, hoping that would be the end of it. Of course your friends had expressed their concerns about him. 

“Okay,” Rafe said, his voice edged with frustration. “I just … I’m here because I want to fix things.”

“C-Can we talk about it on Monday, please?” You asked, “I’ve been-”

“You’ve been drinking,” He filled in your words, more unamused than before, “It’s not safe, little girl like you, only your friends to protect you … there’s lots of bad, bad people in this city.” 

The way he said "little girl" stung. It wasn’t the first time he’d used it, but it felt more patronizing and condescending tonight.

“I can take care of myself,” you said firmly, taking another step back towards your building, trying to put more space between you and his imposing figure.

“Can you?” he taunted, the words heavy with mockery. “Alright, I’ll give you some space. You know what? Go ahead and take Monday off, you deserve it, sweetheart.” 

“Goodnight,” You said before you turned away from him. You jumped when you heard his truck door slam close but you didn’t look back. 

Your friends, witnessing the tense exchange from the corner of the awning, approached you with concern written on their faces. Angel reached out, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with worry.

“Fuck, that dude is crazy,” Imani said, “You have to quit. I’ll get another part time job. We both will while you look for something else. We’ll make it work.”

You should have cried in their arms, letting their comfort and love wash over you, but instead, all you felt was exhaustion and apathy. You didn’t have the energy to be comforted or to express your gratitude. Numb and drained, you trudged inside, your mind already longing for the softness of your pillow. Your friends followed quietly. 

Tuesday morning, your alarm didn’t wake you up. There was a pounding on your door before Imani stormed into your room. Heart racing, you lifted your head and checked your phone sitting on your side table. It was thirty minutes before your alarm was even supposed to go off, “What the-”

“Look!” Groggily, you sat up in your bed just as a crumpled white envelope was thrown at your chest. You held it up to the light trickling into your room from the window, and you easily saw red bold letters stamped across the top of the letter: EVICTION NOTICE. 

Without another thought, you ripped open the envelopement, “It’s probably a-a prank, Imani.”

“What is going on?” Angel stumbled into the room next, mouth full of foaming toothpaste. 

You held open the letter as you began to read carefully, “As per the terms of your lease agreement and in a-a-accordance with the state and local regulations, this letter serves as your official notice of eviction–”

“Fuck,” Imani cursed. 

“This decision has been mmmm-made in alignment with our current business strategy which includes renovating the apartment to increase its value and preparing the property for sale to a prospective buyer …”

“Someones buying our entire apartment building?” Angel asked, eyes wide with disbelief.

“This is fucked,” Imani added. 

You continued reading, “The termination for your lease w-w-w-will be affected sixty days from the date of this notice. Please ensure thhh-that you vacate the premises by this date …”

You read the letter over and over, trying to make sense of it. The signature at the bottom confirmed its legitimacy.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Imani sat down on the edge of your bed, head in the palm of her hands, “They can’t do this. It’s illegal! Where are we supposed to go?”

“Sixty days from now is right before the holidays start,” Angel leaned in the doorway, her eyes starting to well with tears, “I can’t go back home.”

Imani shook her head, “This apartment is my home.”

Determined, you climbed out of bed, pulling on the work clothes you had pre-selected. You kicked off your fuzzy socks, removed your bonnet, and began fixing your braids into a messy bun. “I’m going into the office,” you said resolutely. “I w-w-w-work for a real estate company. Rafe will know what to do. They can’t just do this. If anyone knows how to get out of this, he will.”

The two girls exchanged glances, their concern palpable. “We don’t need his help,” Imani said firmly.

“I don’t think I want it,” Angel added quietly.

You stared at them, incredulous. “He c-can help. You don’t know him like I do.”

“Y/N, is this really smart?” Angel asked, her voice tinged with worry.

“I can’t believe you guys. Get out, I’m getting ready,” you snapped, frustration rising. “Get out, now!”

As they left the room, their worried faces lingered in your mind, but you were focused on finding a solution.

Despite drunkenly conveying your uncertainties about your position with Rafe a few nights before, that morning, you were the epitome of perfection.  You wore exactly what he had chosen for you: a light blue dress embellished with sparkling sequins, pockets, and a Peter Pan collar. You even spent more than ten minutes putting on your makeup that morning, you looked flawless, more effort than you’d ever put in before.

You recited his entire schedule with only a slight stutter, had a steaming cup of coffee waiting for him at his desk, and arranged for lunch from one of his favorite restaurants. You allowed him to wrap his hand around your waist, to lean down and bury his face in your neck, to inhale your scent and press a gentle kiss against your skin.

It was like nothing had changed. Seeing Rafe outside of your apartment that night was frightening, a reminder of the presence he now had in your life, but you’d never seen him look so … desperate. Rafe Cameron was desperate for you, of all people. It dawned on you that perhaps there was room for negotiation. At the cabin, you had vehemently resisted his behavior, and his reaction had been explosively violent. But now, with him admitting to a mistake and showing a rare glimpse of vulnerability, you realized you might possess more leverage than you had previously imagined.

You spent the first few hours at work hyping yourself up to bring up the eviction notice to Rafe. All of his morning meetings went well and he didn’t have the usual cloud of darkness that was constantly over his head. When there was finally a lull in the day, you finally told him the news you’d learned that morning. However, his reaction made your face fall into a frown that you didn’t have the strength to correct.

“I’m not sure what the problem is. Don’t I pay you enough to be able to afford your own apartment?”

“My friends …” you began, struggling to find the right words. Mentioning your friends was wrong. You knew how he felt about the voices of reason in your life. 

“Right, your friends. What would you have me do?” His words continued to be indifferent and detached, as if he could want you so bad, but care nothing about the lives that were closest to you, “Offer them jobs? Pay for them to live as well?”

“No, that’s nnn-not what I mean,” It felt like he was purposefully miscontruing your words, and in turn, your character. Of course you didn’t expect for him to take care of your friends. Not letting him take advantage of the sea of emotions you were feeling, you recited your problem clearly, “I just want to know if you have any advice. For handling the situation. Something that’s in our control as tenants.”

“You don’t have much power at all, as tenants. You’re subject to the decisions made by the property management and the owners,” Before the reality of his words fully sunk in, he sighed, continuing, “You could look at your lease agreement and read it thoroughly to find any clauses that protect you. You could consult with a lawyer though that would be a pricy right to go down. You could talk to your landlord and try to get an extension to find a new place. That’s where I would start, sweetheart.”

Rafe’s hands folded together, looking up at you, as a smile graced his face. You nodded, “Okay,” You were grateful for a straight answer, but admittedly, you thought he would offer a better solution, “What should we look for in the lease? What would protect us?”

“Anything about early termination, language about renovations or changes in property management. Stipulations about how much notice is required before evicting you. If the landlord has violated any of those terms, it could be grounds for negotiation.”

“Huh,” you nodded, your heart filling with a small bit of hope, despite how out of reach some of his suggestions felt, “O-Okay, thank you. Yeah, I’ll t-t-talk to my roommates about it.”

“If it were me, I would be make sure I focused on my own safety and well being. You can’t really help your friends if you’re out on the street with them.” 

His words, rude and smart like always, stung but you didn’t dwell on them, “Thanks for the advice, sir.” 

For the rest of the morning, you shuffled between tasks and scrolling through your lease agreement. You searched it for the keywords that Rafe at mentioned and when that search wasn’t fruitful, you started to read it top to bottom. Your landlord was only required to give you sixty days notice for an eviction. You found absolutely nothing about property management changes. Hours passed and as lunchtime approach, you were sufficiently frustrated. 

You brought Rafe his lunch as he sat through a lunch time meeting but you made your way to the breakroom quickly afterwards.

Imani had called you a few time so you returned it. You’d texted your groupchat about all the steps that Rafe had mentioned. Imani had replied that he was probably withholding information. You weren’t quite sure why that idea hadn’t crossed your mind. 

“Hey, I still haven’t found anything–”

“Cameron Development is the one purchasing the apartment building, Y/N.”

Your heart sank and you plopped down on the breakroom’s leather couch with a heavy sigh, “Shit,” You whispered. 

“Shit is an understatement,” She replied, “Y/N, I’m starting to think you need to be really careful. Maybe we should go to the police.”

He’d lied to your face, unabashedly. 

"We'll talk about it later, I promise," You spoke before you hung up, not giving her a chance to argue.

It was much too late for careful. You should’ve ran after your first conversation with him but now … you were effectively trapped. Rafe had sex with you even when you didn’t want to. He hurt you and you held him for comfort after you. It had been weeks since you’d even felt like yourself. 

You leaned back to stare at the ceiling and you didn’t move for the next thirty minutes. Eleanor was the one who came to find you after you’d gone missing, “Y/N, Rafe’s been looking for you. What are you doing?”

“Did you know?” You asked her solemnly, your voice felt broken. 

She came to sit beside you and you felt her place a hand on your shoulder as she leaned closer, “Topper told me they rushed the deal. Offered twice the asking price. Said it was horrible idea, completely financially irresponsible, but Rafe insisted. ”

“Wh-What should I do?” You turned your head towards her, tears in your eyes, “I-I’ve never had sss-someone feel this way about me b-but th-this feels wrong.”

“What should you do?” She repeated, “I think he loves you.”

“L-Love?” You seemed to choke on the words. 

From what you could tell, it didn’t seem that Rafe was capable of loving anyone, “What does your gut tell you?”

This entire time, your gut had been telling you one thing, “T-To run?”

Even now, you were so unsure of yourself, “Makes sense, he’s suffocating you.”

You sat up in your spot, “Should I go now? Leave all my stuff? He p-paid for it, anyways.”

“I don’t think this is the time,” She squeezed your shoulder gently, her eyes soft as they fixed on you, “If you run, he’ll drag you back to his mansion kicking and screaming. Rafe just made this grand gesture to display his power. A huge fuck you to all the people you care about. He’s desperate. This is your time to get what you want from him. Tell him, you’re not going to be his little sex secretary anymore or follow him to the mountains, unless he changes.” 

“Y-You think he can change?”

“I didn’t think so before,” Eleanor said, her voice firm. “But now, seeing how desperate he is, I believe he’ll do anything to keep you.”

You could barely admit to yourself that part of you wished what she was saying was true. The notion that Rafe might have feelings for you, even if expressed through flawed and controlling actions, was both intoxicating and unsettling. Maybe you could take the bad with the good if the good started to outweigh the bad. But Rafe’s bad was more than bad. His soft gestures were often accompanied by demands and manipulations. 

There was no pros and cons list to be made. You looked at your situation objectively, Eleanor’s words having finally forced you to. If you ran, he’d come after you. If you ran, you’d have nothing. No apartment or salary to support yourself. You longed for a relationship where you felt safe and cared for and you wanted to live in a world where your friends were also taken care of. 

“I hope you’re not handling your personal business during workhours,” Rafe had said when you finally returned to the office. 

Ironic, given all the personal things you two had done together in that very office. 

“I’m not the one who made it personal,” You spoke easily, smoothly. 

You made your way to your desk. Your words seemed to bothered him but you didn’t glance at him long enough to take in his reaction. 

“And how did I make it personal?” You flipped through your personal calendar, taking a pen and marking down all of Rafe’s scheduled social events. 

“It’s not g-g-going to work. Using my friends to threaten me.”

“Oh?” That single word was dripping with venom.

“Just makes me think even www-worse of you. And I-I already had a poor opinion.”

“Yeah?” You wanted to look at him but you kept your eyes focused down, “What makes you think I give a fuck about your opinion of me?"

“B-Because I drive you crazy. Because I’m the one person y-you want to control completely.”

“Maybe I wanted to make things easier for you. Maybe I know that you’ll outgrow your little friends soon and you need a push in the right direction. You have friends in higher places now, you know that?”

“Y-You don’t like that they tell me to quit. That they know sss-somethings wrong with you.”

“You’re wrong,” He shot back.

“You’ve done a good job b-because now I can’t leave without losing everything,” It took everything to keep your voice from breaking. Finally, you turned your heads toward him. You saw the way his chair was towards you, the way his grip was tight on the armrests of his chair.

“Maybe I’ve been selfish.”

You scoffed at that, “You’ve mmm-made it clear that you don’t care about my needs or mmm-my feelings.”

“I know your feelings, sweetheart. You wear them so clearly,” Rafe replied, you could see it in his face that he was trying to keep his tone subdued He leaned foreward slightly, eyes as intense as ever, “Tell me what needs I haven’t tended to. Let me fix things, yeah?”

His offered seemed genuine and exactly what you were hoping for, weren’t you? 

“You really want to fix things?”

“Yeah,” He said like the crimes he’d committed against you were something that could remedied, “I can’t change what I don’t know.”

“It’s not just about what you’ve done wrong. It’s a-about how you handle things from now on,” You started, choosing your words carefully, “It’s about allowing mmm-mmme to set boundaries and respecting them.”

“Boundaries?” His head twisted to the side like he wasn’t entirely familiar with the term, “There’s multiple?”

“First, I want you t-to do what you can to remedy this apartment situation. Then, I don’t want you to ever bring my friends into this again.”

“Fine, I’ll get them another apartment. I’ll even throw in free rent.”

“No,” You shook your head, “You own the building which means you let us stay. No renovations.”

“I made an investment. I have to make a profit–”

“I’m serious,” You countered, “Y-Y-You made your point. You have all the mmm-money in the world and we have nothing in comparison.”

Rafe sighed, fingers tapping against his leg, “Okay, they stay but you come to live with me.”

“What? Why?” It was another layer of control, not a solution. 

“Your friends will want nothing to do with me or my help. If you continue to work for me, they won’t want anything to do with you either. If you want to maintain those relationships, some space would be better. Let them see you happy and they’ll come to their senses about our relationship.”

The implication of his words was clear. He was offering you a way to keep your friends, but it came with the price of further entangling your life with his. It felt like a manipulative trade-off.  You thought about the way he had manipulated you before, using your friends as leverage, and it made you wary of his intentions.

“I won’t say yes right now,” You decided, “Sss-sss-since we’re talking about living situations. Next year, I want to stay in Charlotte.”

“That won’t work.”

What had Eleanor told you to do? Had she forgotten how stubborn he was? 

“Y-You’re asking me to move across the state with you. I-It’s t-t-t-to much. There will have to be another arrangement.”

“Hmm, I won’t say yes right now,” he repeated your wording with an edge of mockery. You scowled, feeling the frustration build up inside you.

“You just sss-said you wanted to fix things.”

“My intentions … my intentions are to leave the city and spend the next few years settling down. I’m getting to a certain age and I’ve been thinking about, you know, getting married and having kids. It feels like the right time,” The information is a shock to you, not the thought of Rafe wanting a wife and kids, but knowing immediately he was implying that you’d be filling that role, “It’s a beautiful area. I wouldn’t expect you to continue your role there. You’d fully be a stay-at home wife, you could pursue any hobbies you wanted, and of course you’d have access to even more money than I’ve been paying you.”

Rafe began to paint a picture of a gilded cage. On the surface, it was tempting: a life of comfort, stability, and freedom from financial worries. But the price was your independence and autonomy. The thought of becoming a stay-at-home wife, completely reliant on him and cut off from your own life in Charlotte, was suffocating.

“What if I d-d-don’t want that life? W-What if I want my own career?”

He hesitated, his gaze narrowing as he leaned back in his chair, “What career do you want? I’ll give it to you. You can do practically anything from home these days. If you want to spend the first years doing that, fine, I’m not expecting kids right away.”

You hadn’t realized it but your breath was starting to quicken. You placed a hand over your chest, all of that resolve you had going into the conversation starting to fade away, “This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” Rafe seemed to talk to himself, “Hey, hey, calm down.” 

Your breath came out in quick shallow breaths. Rafe’s proposal pressed down on you as the room started to spin. You felt his arms around you before you could fall from your chair, “Eleanor, I need you here,” You heard clearly. For the next moments, you could only hear their muffled talking. You remembered seeing both of them, panicked look on Eleanor’s face, a hand rubbing down your back. Rafe was talking to you, his eyes trained on you intently. You remembered a glass of water coming to your lips and you tilted your head back, welcoming the liquid, thinking it might quell the fire inside your mind. 

Though your thoughts still raced, the room’s spinning slowed down, and the you heard Rafe dsay, “It’ll help you feel better.”

He stayed with you, rubbing soothing circles into the skin of your thighs, “Thank you,” You whispered though you hated that you found comfort in his touch. A wave of drowsiness overcame you and despite your best efforts to stay alert, you felt yourself lean forward until you were fully in Rafe’s arms, “Rafe–”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart. Rest,” Rafe murmured, his voice soft and reassuring as he held you close.

This got too long, gonna have to make another part! Pls pls pls reblog and let me know your thoughts and predictions!

[r0ttenhearts]

wasted on you

idol! scaramouche x reader

sypnosis: after an argument with scaramouche he has to perform for a show. the show must go on, despite his mind being anywhere but the present

warnings: angst, arguments, no comfort

“scara, we’re on in 5!”

“i know, i know. just give me a minute.”

scaramouche fumbled with his phone, typing a hasty response and sending it to you. it had only been a few hours since you last spoke, or fought. your angry voice still ringing in his ears, the harsh words left between you two as he left you there. alone.

it was eating at him, the way you looked so defeated. so done.

but you’d still show up for his show, right? you never missed one. even after bickering with him you’d always show. that smile on your face as he met you backstage after every show, embracing you while you praised him for a job well done.

he hoped that would be the case as he stood next to his friends, ready to perform that tedious dance routine heizou had choreographed for the group. painted nails adjusted his mic, a wide smile plastered on his face as he moved with his friends in sync.

his dark eyes scanned the crowd, looking for your usual spot he’d get you tickets for. the memory made him smile, your complaints of not getting the best view when he’d given you a different spot.

his smile faltered for a moment before perking back up as he realized you weren’t there. that comforting presence he’d always find when he felt the most nervous about his ability to perform wasn’t there. the one person he wanted to watch him wasn’t there.

“if you’re going to keep whining why don’t you just leave?”

“do you mean that scara?”

“i can’t even bother to look at your face right now. archons, don’t you see how lucky you are to have me? i could have anyone but i chose you.”

“maybe i shouldn’t have.”

his blood ran cold, recalling his words to you. he hadn’t meant it. he only said it in the moment because he was so angry. so angry about you pestering him. so what if your third year anniversary was on the same day of the concert? you knew how important it was to him, right?

more important than your relationship.

the rest of the concert droned on. he felt like a zombie, the same strenuously practiced choreography being repeated once more to a crowd of thousands of fans. the same songs he’d practiced with the group leaving his lips until they left the stage, heading back to their dressing rooms backstage.

he hoped, prayed, that you’d be there, sitting in his chair and ready to give him a hug. but you weren’t. he was greeted with nothing but an empty room, his makeup on the dresser left the way he had abandoned it. scara swallowed thickly as he pulled out his phone, opening your chat. his heart dropped seeing the “delivered” notification missing.

a dry laugh escaped his lips, almost collapsing at his dresser chair. his fingers tapping on his screen harshly.

scara: (y/n)? did you really block me

scara: this isn’t funny

scara: don’t be like this please.

scara: i didn’t mean it, you know that

he could feel a lump well up in his throat as the “not delivered” notification popped up. his phone was just acting up, right? you didn’t leave him. you couldn’t have. you promised him you’d always be there for him, especially after his mother left him.

it seemed cruel, the way he checked all of his social media accounts to see that you had blocked him on every single one. your bio now missing a ring emoji that you both once had on your profile.

tears welled up in his eyes, fist slamming on his dresser as he thought back to the argument. the very thing that had led to this.

to say he had been stressed was an understatement. with both the concert and your anniversary coming up he was faced with the decision to pick between the two. it almost seemed too easy, but he couldn’t forget the way your face fell as he told you he was still planning to attend to the performance.

you understood, didn’t you? perfect little (y/n) always waiting for him. watching him as he played out his part in the career he enjoyed. he could make it up to you after the concert, anyway. your anniversaries would always come again, but he couldn’t leave his friends high and dry for some relationship.

they needed him! it wasn’t even a question when it came to the two.

but if you knew that, why were you so angry? why did you shout at him that you wanted him to pick you instead?

“i’m sick of this, scara! i want to feel important to you! i don’t want to come second to none for the things you care about!”

“what are you bitching about now? you say this like we haven’t already done something for the other two. stop whining.”

the angry tears in your eyes as you shoved him was not something he was used to seeing. he didn’t think you’d be so upset at the news. even through your anger, your silence scared him more.

“i just thought.. i mattered to you, scara. i guess after three years i still don’t get the memo..”

“don’t be stupid (y/n). if you behave after we can do whatever you want for this stupid anniversary. you’d like that, wouldn’t you? you’re like a dog. threatening to bite but wagging your tail if i give you a crumb of a promise. it’s pathetic, really.”

“i didn’t mean it, i didn’t mean it.” he whispered to himself, eyes glued to your profile that now had him blocked.

“i wish you wouldn’t—“

“are you gonna keep bitching?”

that was the last night he saw you, the last night he ever called you his. he sat alone in that dressing room, his red eyeliner smeared as he cried into his hands. it wasn’t like him at all. he hadn’t realized how much he needed that bond, that intimacy he craved as he’d been lacking in it since he was a child.

maybe then he’d learn to cherish the things he had, before he pushed them away. he’s made a nasty habit of that, hasn’t he?

a/n: i got the idea to throw this together after the ask from @magica-ren so thank you!

part II

taglist: @samarill @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy @lelemnh @ayameei @aqualesha @msdevilis