#i guess i should start one for my own doll posting since im really starting to get into the hobby?

[sealer-of-wenkamui]

Help I'm thinking about doll stuff again, its been about a month since I placed my order so it will still be a bit most likely but.. aaaaa I keep looking into a bunch of things and I made another order of clothes that should be here this week. I can't wait to have a pretty doll I'm making look like Danzou to dress up in cute clothes and take pictures of and play with~ I got a dress that looks similar to the one she has in my favorite CE (No Strings), and I also got a yukata with a morning glory pattern so she can match summer Douman LOL And just a bunch of other stuff I thought was cute, like one of the shops had so much pretty Chinese style clothing that they tailor to your doll's size! And maybe I'll try and make some myself so I can have Danzou's outfits for her. And I want to eventually try to figure out a way to mimic the look of her metallic limbs.

And I also started looking into body blushing too since my doll won't come with it, just the face-up (which I also want to learn to do eventually?) It seems its less permanent and not necessarily required so much but I think its pretty, and I do want to display her naked sometimes too, since doll bodies are so pretty? And also since I'm making her look like Danzou okay I'm being a bit weird about this lol. It seems simple enough, I just gotta figure out what color of chalk pastels would work best... It seems like most people use those+Mr super clear as a sealant, so I'll have to order both. I want to make sure I get high quality pastels...

[appleatcha]

I had a long winded thing typed and tumblr deleted it 😭 so here we go again !

I wanted to waffle a bit about the shift in tone/aura of my blog lately.

My blogs vibe has shifted a lot since its inception, but I had really gotten into this "positivity inclusive (read: anti-trad/anti-terf) housewife" thing in 2023. And in the months I spent focusing on that in my life I learned so much about gratitude and positive thinking that has truly fundamentally changed my mental health and how I see and experience the world around me. But it always felt like I was just ignoring a huge part of myself.

I would come on here and write about gratitude and positivity and subconsciously I feel like I postured myself as this elegent and soft spoken lady when thats....not me at all. I am an air-headed and ham-handed lady that either doesn't take something seriously or has panic attacks over how serious i believe something is. I am awkward and stiff and most importantly I am NOT a positive, perfect kind of person that I feel like my blog gave off. I am an anxious mess and have a tendency to be negative. Which is a big reason why I focused so much on positivity and gratitude, which again has really positively impacted me. Even with my anxiety and mental health struggles I am way less negative than I ever was before.

I've mentioned before, but the end of 2022 brought up some challenges for me that I had never encountered before and never thought I would encounter. And I feel like I really grabbed onto the whole positivity/gratitude shtick as a way of avoiding coping with that. But when my I had to resuscitate my husband last month along with a few other stressful things that were new experiences for me, I think it kind of "uno-reversed" the stress of late 2022 and I had a real "I've lost myself bit" introspection.

I've said it twice, but the complete focus on positivity and gratitude and my role as a wife and a mother helped me so much. So much in fact, that I spent some time struggling with the thought that I'd lost myself a bit. I had this thought of "well, this way of thinking and living has done me so good, why should I ease off the gas?". But in focusing so much on that side of me, I was neglecting the other side of me. I couldn't tell you how many times my husband would sit me down and say something to the effect of "Nivids, you're going too hard in the sauce. You don't have to put all your eggs in one basket" and I would write it off. And as usual, here i am realizing that he knew me better than myself all along yet again!

So I've been trying to let loose on here. I refused to post about my interests on here beyond "nature, appalachia, housewife, positivity, gratitude, and occasional witchery" because I didn't think my weird interests or humor could mesh well with it. But im trying to just not give a damn. This has also coupled with an effort to engage in my silly weird interests in my real world life as well.

My husband points out a lot that I don't let myself enjoy my own things. One thing about my husband is that he drops some harsh truths sometimes lol. One big one is that 99% of the situations i feel i CANT do something, i am just not letting myself do it. For example, if I lament that I haven't had a chance to watch a video I've been waiting to watch because my son has been watching his stuff on TV, he will say "you can tell him he's had his turn and watch your tv" and I think "wow, I guess I really did just want to feel powerless to validate my inaction huh". And I think I've been doing a lot of that self-regulation this year to cope with everything that's been going on.

All of that is to say, I am sorry if you followed me this year because you are a fellow housewife and enjoyed my peaceful, nature-centric positivity and are like WTF happened to this girl when I start posting Mary Reilly, Chris Fleming, and clown doll lmao

[asmo-ds]

okay, last request i promise!! mc and asmo are having a sleepover and they're putting make up on each other and it's really cute and fluffy. like ik asmo is the avatar of lust and all but i headcanon him as one of the most fluffy characters in the game idk

Slumber Party

Asmo x GN!MC Fluff

Word Count: 1408

Warnings: MC was bullied in the past :(, They also take a bath together but no funny business what so ever I pinky promise

Summary: Asmodeus finds out MC has never had a slumber party before and he refuses to let their life continue without experiencing a slumber party with the king of slumber parties himself

Ever since MC had arrived in the Devildom, Asmodeus had been inviting them to have a sleepover in his room. No matter how much he begged and pleaded with them to join him one night they said no every. Single. Time. 

The Avatar was beginning to grow worried that MC was scared to be alone with him due to his sin.

“MC, I promise I’m not planning anything naughty!” He gave his best puppy dog eyes as he asked for the nth time to have MC in his room for the night. “I pinky promise all I want to do is normal slumber party stuff! We can do face masks and play with makeup, or we can play truth or dare - or truth or truth if that makes you more comfortable,” he pouts.

“Asmo, don’t worry I know you wouldn’t try anything dirty without my consent, i-its more of a me problem I guess…” MC trails off. 

“Oh?” He cutely tilts his head in confusion, causing MC to sigh and finally tell him why they’d been denying him since day one.

“In the human world I never had many friends,” they start, “and I guess because of that I was never invited to an actual sleepover unless you count one time in middle school when the popular kids had me over and humiliated me all night for their entertainment,” MC clenches their fists at the memory of being taunted after showing up so excited for their first slumber party.

“EH?! Seriously? Did someone invite you just to tease you? What a douche. MC please have a slumber party with me, I promise I won’t mock you or taunt you and I’ll show you a nice sleepover where we both relax and chill together,” Asmo holds MC’s hand in his own gently against his chest in a comforting fashion.

MC stares into his eyes for a moment, searching for any sign of ingenuine intentions. They let out a soft sigh as they fail to find any ill intent inside the fifth eldest demon lord. “...Okay, your room or mine?”

-

At 7 pm sharp, MC makes their way through the house of Lamentation, a bag and pillow tucked under their arms before they knock on the door that is almost immediately ripped open with surprisingly strong yet feminine arms pulling them into the blush-colored room filled with the scent of roses.

They look around and see Asmo had a bunch of areas set up, ready for them to do a night of intense self-care and relaxing activities together. 

“Here, put your bag in the corner for now, and you can put the pillow on the bed! OH IM SO EXCITED!” the rose eyes male squeals. “Where should we start? Makeovers or dress up?”

“Um I suppose we could dress up first so we know the makeup will match our outfits,” MC says shyly.

“Ah! Good thinking! You’re such a cute genius, MC,” Asmodeus giggles giving MC a soft boop on the nose before dragging them to his walk-in closet. 

-

“I knew you would look good in [fav color], MC!” Asmo praises, twirling them around and looking at the two of them in the mirror in their new outfits. “Now let’s get some makeup to match, then we can have a mini photoshoot!”

Asmodeus pulls two chairs in front of his vanity, digging through a drawer and pulling out the makeup he thinks will match their skin tone and outfit, placing them next time as he leans forward with a primer on his hands, rubbing it onto MC’s skin. He puts it to the side before grabbing the foundation and getting to work.

 MC and Asmo post in his mirror taking hundreds of photos. “Wait Asmo can we do duck lips!” MC asks excitedly giggling their head off.

“OMD YESSSS” He dramatically pushes out his lips and MC follows before he snaps a few photos. They laugh as they strike more poses and then perform like professional photographers for each other.

“Are you going to put these on Devilgram, Asmo?” MC smiles hoping he’d think they were good enough to feature on his perfectly aesthetic Devilgram page.

“Duh, who would be so cruel as to keep these pictures to themselves when they’re so stunning!” He smiles selecting a few photos to post. As he is scrolling through all the photos one of MC catches his eye. In the photo, they are smiling and laughing after Asmo had clearly done something to crack them up. He feels his heart flutter knowing he caused that smile and moves that picture to a special folder he keeps pictures of his family in (that he will never admit he actually has).

He tosses his D.D.D onto his soft bed and lets it bounce to a stop as he grabs MC’s hand to go to the bathroom. Once they are in there he pulls out some makeup removing wipes and skincare products.

“Wow I’ve never actually gotten a good look at your bath,” MC stares at the tub of constantly perfectly hot water with rose petals and all sorts of washing products lined along the sides of it.

“Did you wanna do all of the skincare and washing off in there? The bubbles will cover both of us for the most part and I promise not to touch your no-no zones,” Asmo giggles as he sees MC’s eyes widen. 

“Oh- uh- sure! As long as there’s no funny business Mr. Avatar of Lust!” They laugh giving his shoulder a playful shove.

“That’s LORD Mr. Avatar of Lust to you” he jokingly scoffs making MC laugh once more before he turns and faces the wall. “Go ahead and get in I’ll stay facing this way until you tell me to come in.”

After hearing clothes drop and the water move a bit as MC’s body descends into the steamy bubbles, he notices he isn’t actually filled with Lust at the moment, which is rare for him when someone else is in the room naked. He smiles when he realizes that he feels more adoration and relaxation in this situation than anything else.

“Wow MC, it’s kind of odd that I don’t feel lustful at the moment,” he voices his thoughts, “instead all I can think about is how excited I am to just chill out in the bath with you.” He shakes his head and lets out a chuckle.

“Well if you’re so excited then hurry up and get in here !” MC smiles at him as he turns. His eyes stay glued to their face with zero urge to wander elsewhere at that moment. He wishes he could burn that smile into his eyes and see it every second for the rest of his life.

He goes back to his room and grabs his D.D.D putting on his favorite playlist made by both of them and strips getting into the tub, bringing the face wash and makeup wipes with him before he moves through the water closer to MC, who closes their eyes as he raises a washcloth to their cheek.

MC and Asmo spend about a half-hour in the tub, relaxing and washing each other’s makeup off, then MC suddenly gets hyper and makes a mess of his bathroom. “Asmo look!” They excitedly say as they put bubbles on their chin forming a big bubbly beard making Asmo giggle.

“MC please let me take a picture of you right now you look so adorably stupid, sweetie.” Asmo grabs his D.D.D while laughing so hard he nearly snorts.

After he takes the picture and puts back his D.D.D, he gets hit in the face with water and opens his eyes to see MC laughing as they start a splash fight.

At the end of their bath, the floor is soaked with suds and water that had been splashed out by the pair and they cleaned it up before heading back into the bedroom.

“Are we sleeping on the bed together or do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Asmodeus asks.

“We can sleep in the bed together, just -”

“Yeah Yeah, no funny business I know, doll,” Asmo cuts MC off laughing.

After getting under the covers they both did that thing we all do at sleepovers where you can’t stop laughing for no reason and Lucifer came in to yell at them like the Mom he is.

[gothicprep]

ive tried and failed to get into the xfiles twice since I was a teenager, and I guess there are a few reasons why that i haven’t been able to get into it. even though I’ve always thought “rationally I should love this. all the right ingredients are there. why don’t I?” and I guess I’m starting to figure out why I can’t fully get into it

two case of the week procedural style that we recommended to me were the familiar (the mr chuckleteeth one) in the revival series and home from the original

i liked the first and the second was just.. um… alright well we’re going to do “good news first”

so my main thing that I liked with the familiar is how the “creepy thing for kids” trope works better in the post elsagate world, although people weren’t super aware of that happening on youtube. but when kids will be hooked up to their ipads and watching shit like this:

It’s a lot easier for me to be take it at face value when parents aren’t even surprised anymore when they may have grown up with a sibling who watched the boobahs or whatever and now legitimate kids shows look like this:

A lot of what holds back the effectiveness “creepy doll” related things is that the supernatural object is usually understood by the characters in the film to be, like, a weird Victorian antique ,and that always makes it by default one of those incomprehensible horror character decisions like “why do u even have that”. vs I’m sure my parents thought the teletubbies were unsettling, but I remember my brother having teletubbies toys when we were young. “this is weird, but my kid likes it. I’ll buy him the creepy doll.”

plus the doll not being a supernatural object either was a fun thing to do with it.

im also a sucker for using the “we’re protective of our own” small town attitude as a parallel for when the police departments do this shit. there’s definitely a similar judge/jury/executioner thing that exists on a social level in small towns. good eye. good shit.

with something like home on the other hand, incidentally also a small town – for one thing, having people in pennsylvania talk & behave like that and have this general aversion to modernization is dead on. I could easily see people in Potter county acting like that in the 90s. If you camp in cherry springs, it’s still basically impossible to get cell service in a lot of the towns that are near the park. and the people there are… they definitely have that conservative flavored redneck thing going on.

but what just absolutely ruins the episode for me is that the dialogue is so clunky lmfao. it’s like the writers watched dukes of hazard episodes and was like “yeah, this is accurate.” and it geographically does not look like rural PA. nor is “War of Northern Aggression” something you’d realistically have someone say there, even though confederate flags aren’t uncommon. these are such little nitpicks but they really take you out of it when you notice them. If you set this a few miles south in West Virginia, you could have at least avoided the last two.

and I guess it’s the thing about it for me. when you don’t have those little goofs, it works incredibly well, but when they’re there, they feel impossible to notice

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, eps 1-5 thoughts! opening the new season with episodes like these kinda blew me away. we had multiple serious episodes INCLUDING a two parter!! also, valerie :)

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-I don't know what I expected s2 to open with. but danny portal incident in more detail was not it. (also, I hate to break it to you, sam, but danny's parent's bigass ghost hunting rv def chugs more gas than those vehicles, lmao. unless it runs on ectoplasm or something...)

-WHY WAS DESIREE IN THE SEWER? HAVING TEA WITH IT DOWN THERE?? Her making the giant cow come alive is a boss move, we've almost had all of my fav animals as ghosts now <3 I also don't like how sam was expecting danny to just, haunt the place so the cars wouldn't get sold? I KNOWWW I know she's 14 (and I had a very annoying phase like this, I think I mentioned in a previous post, I GET IT) but they're HIS powers, and messing with (1) dealership will not really put a dent in sales overall because they can just move the cars to another sales lot, and it certainly wont change the industry anyway, it's more of a minor annoyance for (1) location. Also, usually people who work at car sales places work on commission, so if they dont make a sale, they don't have money to pay bills, or eat. sam baby if u wanna be an activist you need to like, actually look into these things. with as much money as her parents have, she could be doing a lot..more useful things for causes she cares about? it's frustrating to see someone with resources who doesn't know how to use them. but shes 14 so again. cannot be really upset :/

-IS THIS A PREDATOR VS TERMINATOR VS FREDDY KRUEGER MOVIE BUT THEYRE ALL WOMEN?? you know, sam is so right to be excited about this. /I/ want to see this movie. that rules

-paulina inviting danny and friends to her quinceañera, aw! even if it is just to get phantom to show up :') and there'll be a meteor shower, and we KNOW danny wants to be an astronaut!! there's not a meteor shower every night!! the tickets are non-refundable, but..she's rich? like. gotta agree with danny, they never get invited!! I KNOW it's the principle of keeping promises, but if she was that upset, she should've said something. directly. I hated how she was like, passive aggressive about it through the episode, like you SAID IT WAS FINE, THAT YOU'D GO TO THE PARTY TOO. MOVIES SHOW FOR A FEW WEEKS IN THEATERS. IF YOU HAD A REAL PROBLEM YOU NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT. WE'VE HAD THIS PROBLEM BEFORE, SAM. YOUR FRIENDS. ARE NOT. MIND READERS.

-MR. LANCER GOING AFTER THE GHOST WITH THE FIRE EXTINGISHER LMAO

-this outfit is everything . anytime the show does an over the top cutesty pink outfit i WANT IT. it looks like shit I wear JKASDHF I HAVE a bow like that and a pink sweater. I need leg warmers </3

-SAMS GOTTA RE-HALF-KILL HIM??? thats fucked up. but also, he finally got his logo!! it took until s2!!! this episode was lowkey very fucked and I felt like it glossed over a lot. does sam have guilt about like. kinda KILLING HIM?? I know, he also agreed and walked into the portal. but. she made the choice to redo it SO quickly (even if it was because someone had to beat desiree) and danny, during their fight, brought up a lot of stuff sam's done in the past, meaning he was holding onto those memories and resentment was building. (I KEEP SAYING HE LOWKEY NEEDS THERAPY, BUT I THINK MOST EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW KINDA DOES) which...is a red flag? and then they didnt even GO to the party URGH I know she tried to make up for it, but it really felt like Sam fucked up and barely faced any consequences and got everything she wanted in the end. I KNOW it's a kids show obv they aren't going to go too in depth, and she undid the damage, kinda, but...I DUNNO how to articulate it but it rubbed me the wrong way.

-but on a note about desiree, her powers of wishes were STRONG ENOUGH TO ERASE NOT JUST THEIR MEMORIES, BUT DANNY'S POWERS?! fuck, if I was danny I'd be like, trying to make friends with her. I know they always have horrible side effects as most genie-granted wishes do, but...c'mon, I'd at least TRY to be like 'I wish no ghosts would hurt anyone in my town' or 'I wish vlad would lose his ghost powers forever no matter What and also forget about my mom' LIKE. SHIT DESIREE IS SO POWERFUL. rewriting reality powerful, basically!! appreciate her. respect her.

-aww, sam helping tucker pass the nurse's office so he wouldn't see because he's afraid of medical stuff? very sweet. I also don't like medical stuff, I've gotten a lot better at handling it tho. but seeing blood and needles still makes me feel lightheaded x_x

-FOLEY, BY TUCKER FOLEY. I want to make my own perfume, that's so cool. even if his first attempt isn't good, he's pretty consistently shown to have an inventor/entrepreneur streak in the show, so like. I can see him inventing or making something (or several somethings) that make him $$$ when he grows up :) proud of my creative son

-I know the 'creepy abandoned hospital on the edge of town' is a joke and the creepy hospital trope is so Worn Out, but in my town we actually DO have a hospital like that! my dad was born in it, but its not in use and hasn't been for, like, 20 years! it needs to be torn down but I think the city doesn't wanna pay the money. the inside is horrible, spray painted and broken glass and shit everywhere. but there's still like, rusty equipment and fucking DOLLS all over the place. the cops drive by it pretty frequently to make sure no one is like, breaking in. (because of water damage, some of the areas really aren't safe. also, asbestos, but people still go in anyway) but also, some of my town was used in a filming for a stephen king show. So it's lowkey spooky all over. just a fun personal tidbit :) to lead into saying, any hospital abandoned for any period of time is NOT safe to quarantine these kids in JKSAHDKF like I KNOW it's a ghost trying to do this, but NONE of these parents are even like, 'well, why dont we keep them in the regular, working hospital'....YIKES. this hospital looks pretty accurate to the one in town. grungy and spooky.

-fentons are tax evaders confirmed by jack's fear of being audited, lol no one is surprised

-ghost sickness via ghost bugs. horrifying concept. I actually expected it to be a new villain, not dr. spectra again! this is a very elaborate scheme. her new form rules, love the new costume. the way none of the bg kids seem to recognize her as their old school councilor. did we just forget about that completely?

-dash watching romance movies in the fucked up ghost hospital. same.

-'oh please, you're ghosts, do you have any idea what YOU smell like?' no, tucker, what DO ghosts smell like? I genuinely didn't know they would even have a smell, I actually want to know now.

-it feels like a while since we've seen jazz!! i was happy to see her again, even if she was a head in a jar for most the episode. I want another jazz-focused ep!!

-we finally see danny doing space-related stuff!! him and his friends stargazing to open ep 3 of s2. cute :) until, GHOST PIRATES!!!!! ...ghost pirate captain is a small child?? VOICED BY TAYLOR LAUTNER???

-oh, the easy listening is ember's song instrumental slowed. 'vapor drone' THEY VAPORWAVED HER!!! ember in a pirate outfit tho >>>>. and the cruise being called m.bersback JKASDHJK. ember adopting a little pirate brother is also pretty cute. concerning this teen and little kid have such bad opinions of adults, like, who hurt you?? (how did you DIE ALSO?? im always lowkey curious about that. we know desiree died at an old age, but her ghost form is young, probably mid-20s, so I wonder how that sort of thing works...its a more mental thing, isn't it?) but ghost team-ups are always cool to see, even if ember bailed after danny took her guitar. I guess she probably thinks youngblood can handle it (which, he's been owning danny this far in the ep, so...fair)

-tucker got that sponsorship from nasty burger for their radio!!! again, opportunistic money maker king, love to see it!!!

-danny taking control of the kids SO FAST. he makes a pretty great leader. no one is surprised, im pretty sure I said I think he's the most mature of the trio, once again, correct, because he's taken on so much responsibility already. all the teens suiting up in the jumpsuits to go save the adults and taking the ship over with a BLIMP. OKAY LETS GO. this feels like it should be a mid finale or straight up finale.

-...speaking of finales. why is ep 4-5 of s2 combined into a 50 minute episode? I havent even clicked play and im concerned. weird placement, like, this season JUST started and we're getting a two parter? okay...why are the episodes placed like this? why not put this at episode 10 or something, for a mid-season thing?

-this is also a cute dress. possibly my fav dress so far. can her parents give ME cute dresses, I'LL wear them.

-it turns out the castle fright knight was in is called pariah's keep and there's something worse than fright knight in there! lovely! fuck off vlad wtf are you doing <3 your hubris <3 is going to literally get you killed <3 'ring of rage' and 'crown of fire' are great names tho. ...vlad turning into a super polite guy when he was scared of mr. pariah was hilarious. and fright knight doing the same...I mean, it makes sense, he's a knight, he serves a king? happy to see fright knight again either way :) vlad telling him to call him tho, lmfao. you WISH HE WOULD. (I wish hed call me, too. 😔)

-so...jack being genuinely concerned about vlad...maddie really didn't tell him what happened at the cabin, did she. damn. if I was her id immediately come home and be like 'YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS SHITTTT THIS CREEPY GUY--' like, I feel like that stuff you need to tell your partner!!! I know she didnt want Jack to think she was an irresponsible parent putting danny in danger at that time, but STILLLL. maddie spilling boiling tea on him. get his ass. how is jack this oblivious to his wife's discomfort with vlad!! ughhh

-fenton wipe (tm). trademarked toilet paper.

-DANNY AND VALERIE BEING FRIENDS??? :D that was a cute moment. 'hey val <3' and 'if you like him like him, make a move, or someone else will ;)' at sam...damn!! I love her. valerie go for it girl!!! I hate how sam and tucker treat val also, like I GET IT YOURE PROTECTIVE AND DONT TRUST but if anything him befriending valerie will help when she finds out or he tells her like I feel like she'll be more understanding that they think! ALSO I feel like her reason for not liking ghosts is valid, like you haven't really explained the full story to her anyway! she doesn't seem to have any other friends after being booted from the a-listers so im like :( but seeing them kick butt together again was nice <3

-the ghosts all RUNNING FROM PARIAH DARK IS NOT GOOD, I thought he sent them to attack or something, but no. why doesn't someone just tell desiree 'hey i wish pariah dark would die' lol. once again I think she can solve every problem <3 but seeing all the enemies in one place, being civil and hiding together? love it.

-you just know danny's gonna have to clean up vlad's stupid mess. also, jack being willing to put on the ectoskeleton pants to help maddie, as soon as vlad heard it could kill him, he suggested jack do it instead of helping maddie himself? this is why jack got the girl, my man.

-ghost skeletons. how do you end up as a skeleton ghost in your afterlife instead of a humanoid like most the ones we've seen? lmao

-the ghosts just making new homes in various stores. I'd totally be setting up in an expensive clothing store if I was a ghost.

-valerie's dad is possibly the most useful adult so far, with that ghost shield expansion!!! and valerie saving vlad and danny, even tho shes been thru it already, shes still so good!!! this family rules.

-danny: *gently caresses valerie* :)

-*then he immediately TELLS HER DAD ON HER. and his first response is 'are you okay?' :'( such a good dad...

-*me every time fright knight breathes* youre doing SO great sweetie :)

-the fenton suit thing is so silly looking. does anyone take this thing seriously

-ALL THE GHOSTS FIGHTING WITH DANNY <3 AAAAA. and the fact that pariah isn't perma-defeated, but just locked away again. yikes. he'll probably get out again, won't he? it wasn't too clear, but if vlad DID make a pact with fright knight, I am rabid. I will beat vlad to death with the fenton bat (tm). YOU DONT DESERVE A COOL KNIGHT.

-valerie being direct with sam and challenging her? kinda love that, even tho I normally don't like 'catfight' type situations. because sam has been very passive aggressive about it which is annoying. valerie knows wtf she wants and wasn't even embarrassed to tell sam, but she did tell her, giving sam time to make her own move! and sam denied it and got embarrassed/mad! and sam did have a chance when danny was about to go off and fight, and she hesitated and didn't tell him. I feel like she's hesitating because they're friends and it might make it weird between the trio (poor tucker would be third-wheeling) but if u snooze u lose, u gotta GO after what u WANT girl. smh this is a No Tsundere Zone. 😤

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Two for One

Fandom: Marvel (Professor AU/College AU)

Pairing: Stucky x F!Reader

Summary: Ever since you became the TA for Professor Romanoff, you’ve been seeing a lot of Professors Rogers and Barnes. They seem to be attracted to you, but you have a hard time deciding between the two. What do you do?

Warning: smut - bjs, threesome, semi-public…just a whole lot of naughty mk?

A/N: based off of this post and my tags in it. also, word count is about 4.1k. so yall better appreciate this and the struggle i went through to write this (i’m looking at you @chloerinebarnes )

Steve was sure that if Bucky bit his lip any further, he’d draw blood. He nudged his boyfriend with his elbow, gaining his attention back, “Cool it with the staring and lip biting. You’ll scare her off.”

Bucky groaned, “She’s killin’ me with those jeans, babe.”

Steve snorted, “Tell me about it,” he murmured as his eyes went back to across the lounge. You were standing off to the side, speaking with Professor Romanoff, the teacher you were a TA for. You were nodding to everything that she was listing off for you to do. After handing you a stack of papers, you saw yourself out of the lounge. Bucky and Steve’s shoulders sagged in disappointment. 

Ever since you became Professor Romanoff, aka Natasha’s, TA, Steve and Bucky have been seeing you more and more. Not that they minded. You were beautiful, funny, and smart. Honestly, you were the missing puzzle piece in their life. 

Don’t get it wrong, Steve and Bucky were completely devoted to each other. But for the past few years, they’ve been feeling like they were missing something. And they believe that something is you. 

But how does one go about proposing a polyamorous relationship? You don’t. It’s not a very common thing and it’s not accepted in a lot of places. Nonetheless, Steve and Bucky adored you from the moment they met you. 

So, they hatched a plan. They would worm their way into your heart individually and when it came to the point where you “have to choose”, they’ll give you the other option: a two for one deal. 

_________________________

You’re in the school cafe, a pile of papers off to the side that you’re making your way through. You suddenly feel a presence looming over you and you look up to see Professor Barnes. 

You give him a polite smile, “Hey there, professor! How’s it going?”

“Monday mornings were never my thing hence,” he gestured to his large coffee cup.

You snorted, “Tell me about it,” you pointed to your own, “This is my third one already.”

“Mind if I sit?” he points to the seat across from you.

You shook your head, “Not at all!” you move your things around to give him a little bit more space, “Enjoy your weekend?”

He shrugged, “Just stayed home, watched some Netflix, graded papers. The usual.”

You nodded, “That’s become my usual now too. Although, yesterday my friends Pietro and Wanda dragged me out of the apartment to go to a bar. Gonna be honest, had a bit too much.”

“That explains the coffee and you still grading papers that are probably due today.”

You sighed, “Yeeeaahhh. Never listening to the twins again,” you said with a snort. 

“I wish I could help. Russian Literature was my minor. But I’m sure if Nat found out, she’d have both our heads.”

“Definitely. Romanoff’s great, but, damn, does she terrify me!”

Barnes snorted, “Same here.” he stood up and grabbed his coffee, “Well, I’ll let you get to it. Good luck.”

“Thanks, Professor Barnes!”

He smiled down at you, and with a wink, he said, “Call me Bucky,” and he waltzed out of the cafe like it was nothing. And you hated to admit that that little gesture made your cheeks heat up and make your panties slightly damp.

___________________

You were struggling with holding the pile of graded papers in your arms and trying to get your notebook out for Romanoff’s class. Just when you thought you had it, all the papers tumbled forward onto the ground. You groaned and hung your head back, staring up at the sky asking, “Why me?”

You bent down and began to collect the papers, and then another pair of hands came into view. You tried to object, “It’s okay! I got-” when you looked up, staring back at you was he striking blue eyes of Professor Rogers, “I-I got it, Professor Rogers,” you stammered as you quickly collected the essays.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind helping,” he said with a shy smile, grabbing the leftover papers and handing them to you. You both stood up and awkwardly stood there, “So, uh, headed to Nat’s-I mean, Romanoff’s office?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Gotta turn in all these papers I graded.” you gestured to the pile that was back in your hands. 

“Oh, well, my office is in the same direction. I’ll accompany you.”

You two walked together, towards the Literature and History building, “So, uh, how was your weekend?”

“Oh, uh, pretty bland, honestly. Just hanging out and grading papers. What about you? Did you spend your weekend grading all of these?” he points to your pile.

“Sorta,” you answered, “I got most of them done. Then I went out last night. Got drunk and never finished the rest. I just finished up in the cafe. Professor Barnes was actually there too. Surprised you weren’t with him. You two are usually attached to the hip,” you say teasingly.

Rogers snorted, “Please, I couldn’t shake ‘im even if I tried. We actually live together. We see a lot of each other and you would think we’d get sick of each other. But we don’t.”

“That’s good. I love Pietro and Wanda, but, God, I don’t think I can spend every second of the day with them.”

He chuckled, “Guess you just gotta find the right people that’ll make you want to see them all the time.”

Soon enough, you were in the building, standing in front of Professor Romanoff’s office, “Well, here’s my stop,” you say.

“Yeah. Anyway, I hope you have a good rest of your day, Y/N.”

“Thanks, Professor Rogers. You too!”

“Please, call me, Steve,” he says with a grin and then turns around, heading for his office in the other direction.

___________________

Bucky is eating lunch in Steve’s office. Steve is typing away at his computer, occasionally pausing when Bucky feeds him a forkful of penne pasta into his mouth. 

“So, progress?” Bucky asks, his own mouth full of pasta. 

Steve chews a few more times before swallowing. He takes off his glasses and sets them onto his desk, “Told her to call me Steve after I helped pick up her papers that she dropped and accompanied her on the way to Nat’s office. She said she came from the cafe and you were there?”

Bucky nodded, “Yeah. Grabbed some coffee, sat with her and chatted a little bit. When I left, I told her to call me Bucky. You still think we should do this?”

“I really like her, Buck. I just-don’t you feel it? That spark with her?” when Bucky nodded, Steve continued, “Then can you imagine how it would be if all of us were together?”

“It’d be like nothing we’ve ever felt before,” Bucky murmured.

“Exactly. We gotta try, but we can’t be too overbearing. She’s gotta be the one.”

Bucky set down his tupperware of pasta and rest his hand on Steve’s, “She’s out missing puzzle piece.”

___________________

You sat in the lounge next to Professor Romanoff, or Nat, as she’s allowed you to call her. You’re both going over test grades and that’s when you hear the screeching of wood against the floor and then you look up to see Bucky and Steve settling across the table from you.

Your eyes brighten and a smile appears on your face, “Hey, Bucky! Hey, Steve!”

Big grins appear on their faces when you acknowledge, “Hey, doll,” Bucky says, and you feel your cheeks heating up. 

You duck your head down, biting your lip and continuing to grade papers. You hoped that Nat ignored that interaction, but she didn’t. While you continued to grade papers, Nat gave questioning looks to the professors across from her. Both gave her shrugs and pulled out their own work that needed to be done. 

Words started to blur as your eyes skimmed through another test, your red pen marking wrong answers. You could feel yourself getting a headache so you groaned and fell back into your seat, “I need a break. I’m gonna walk to the cafe. Do you guys want anything?” Nat and Bucky shook their head but Steve stood up.

“I’ll go with you. I think I need to stretch my legs anyway.” he turns to Bucky and gives him a nod, and then follows you out of the lounge. After you both leave, Nat turns to Bucky.

“What the hell are you guys up to?”

“Steve and I both like Y/N, so we’re trying to ease our way into her heart and possibly propose a poly relationship.”

Nat groaned, “Jesus Christ. You know what happened the last time you tried that. You and Steve ended up heartbroken and nearly broke up because of it.”

“Dot wasn’t right for us,” Bucky said with a shake of his head, “But Y/N’s different. You know she is, Nat.”

“Maybe so, but then again, you hardly know her.”

“And that’s why we’re trying to spend as much time as we can to get to know her.”

Nat shook her head, “You’re playing a dangerous game. She’s a student.”

“She’s graduating this year. Once she’s graduated, then Steve and I will ask. Trust us, Nat. We learned from the last time and we know what we’re doing now.”

____________________

“So, the semester is half way over and you’ll be graduating soon. Have any plans on what to do?” Steve asked, his hands curled up in his pockets. 

“Travel. Find a job. Maybe find some love on the way. I don’t know.”

“Not looking for love right now?” he asked with a teasing smirk. 

You shrugged, “Oh trust me, I’ve been looking. Just haven’t found anyone that clicks with me, ya know? Someone funny, smart, compassionate, independent. Oh and knows how to cook. It’s surprising how many people here barely know how to cook.”

Steve snorted, “Bucky loves to cook. He cooks our meals all the time. I know how to cook too, but for Bucky, it’s his stress reliever. He’s in his element when he cooks, plus everything is delicious when he makes it.”

“I’d love to try something other than ramen and burgers.”

“I’ll bring you some tomorrow. Buck loves to cook for other people so it won’t be a problem.”

You shook your head, “I can’t ask you guys to do that. You don’t have-”

“You’re not askin’, sweetheart. Plus, we want to do this. Trust me.”

You sighed, “Fine.”

Steve was beaming right then and there, “Great. Do you have any food preferences?”

“Surprise me.”

_____________________

It became a regular thing after that. You and Nat would be in the lounge going over lecture notes or grading papers. Steve and Bucky would appear and slide over some tupperware for lunch that Bucky had prepared for you. At one point, they started bringing some food for Nat too since she complained about them not bringing food for her. Plus, they didn’t want to seem too suspicious. 

As the semester progressed, you found yourself in the company of Steve and Bucky often. Sometimes it was both of them, sometimes it was one or the other. You’d have lunch with them, walk with them to class or the office building. Relax under some trees while you graded papers. You also ended up getting both of their numbers and all three of you would be in a group chat texting away or texting to either men individually. 

You were around them a lot and you couldn’t help the feelings you were starting to develop for both them. It was conflicting. Very much so. You were a student and they were professors. 

It was a month before the semester ended, before you graduated, and you’d had enough. Enough of the feelings and the confusion. It had to stop!

So you burst into Bucky’s office where you knew both men would be. As soon as you step into the room, you freeze. There right before was Steve and Bucky, but they were tangled up in each other, making out. 

“I’m so confused,” you murmured as they stared at you wide-eyed. 

“Doll, I-we-”

“I-I should go. Sorry. I didn’t-I’m gonna-” 

You turn to leave but Steve cried outs, “Y/N, wait!” and you stop. You look at them and they’re staring at you with pleading eyes, “Sweetheart, please, don’t leave. Just-Just close the door and we’ll explain everything.”

Slowly, you move back inside, closing the door behind you. You sit at the chair across from Bucky’s desk. Bucky sits back down into his seat and Steve stands off to the side, running his hand through his disheveled hair. 

“Are-Are you guys together?” you ask apprehensively. When both men nod, you let out a shaky breath, “I-I don’t understand. Both of you made it seem like you were interested in me. Were you just toying with me? Is that it?!”

“No!” both said unison. 

Steve cleared his throat, “It’s nothin’ like that, Y/N. We swear. We-Bucky and I, we’ve been together for a long time. We love each other a lot, but-”

Bucky interjected, “But we feel like we’ve been missing something. And we think that something is you.”

You became even more confused, “But you’re together already. How would that even work?”

“A polyamorous relationship. The three of us can be together. Bucky and I have strong feelings for you, Y/N.”

You shook your head, “This can’t happen,” and suddenly, it felt like Bucky and Steve’s hearts were breaking all over again, but then you continued, “I’m still a student and you’re professors. If this got out, I’d be expelled and you two would be fired. I-” you take a moment to let out a deep breath, “It’s funny. I was coming here to tell you that I can’t choose between you two. I have feelings for both of you, so I was just-I don’t know-take myself out of the equation.”

“But you don’t have to, doll,” Bucky says with a hopeful gaze.

Steve rest his hand on Bucky’s shoulder to prevent him from getting ahead of yourself, “But we understand your reasoning why you don’t want to be with us.”

“I didn’t say I don’t want to be with you. I said I can’t right now.” that made both men’s ears perk, “I’m graduating next month. We can put all of this on hold for now and once I’m outta here then...”

“We can wait!” Bucky said all too enthusiastically, which made Steve chuckle.

Steve’s hand moved from Bucky’s shoulder, down his arm and to his hand where they laced fingers, “We’re willing to wait for you, sweetheart. You’re worth it.”

You moved around the desk and to the two men, grabbing each of their hands in yours, “Thank you. You guys mean a lot to me,” you leaned in and pecked the cheeks of each men, “I’ll see you guys soon,” and then you were out of Bucky’s office. The end of next month couldn’t come any sooner. 

__________________

“Y/N L/N!” your name was called as you walked across the stage, shaking the dean’s hand, and accepting your diploma. Cheers from your loved ones and peers brought a huge smile to your face. You walked down the steps dancing on your way back to your seat, your classmates buzzing all around you. 

After everyone’s name was called, the dean stood up the podium to give final remarks and the changing of the tassels, “Now, everyone, I present to you the Class of 2020!” everyone cheered as caps went flying into the air. You hugged the people around you, and waited for your family and friends to meet you on the field. In the meantime..

“I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Bucky cried out as he gave you a big ol’ hug. Steve stood behind him, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

“Congrats, Y/N,” Steve gave you a hug, nothing to make anyone suspicious.

You were beaming at them, “Thanks you guys. I can’t believe it. I graduated!”

Bucky was ready to ask you out right then and there, but stopped when he saw your family approaching. He and Steve stepped aside to allow you some time with your loved ones. They mouthed, “See you later,” and both walked away to congratulate other students. 

You watched as they departed. A part of you wanted to chase after them and kiss them both then and there, but that would stir something up and you didn’t want any trouble on this momentous day. Soon, Y/N. Soon. 

The day after graduation was when you were to pick up your official diploma. You knew from the group chat that Steve and Bucky would be on campus, due to finishing up finals. And after you picked up your diploma, you wanted to go see them. 

With diploma in hand, you approached the office building, sending off texts to the men:

You: whatcha up to?

Bucky: grading finals in Steve’s office

You: can I stop by?

Steve: of course ;)

Bucky: BRING COFFEE!

You giggled, knowing how predictable Bucky was, two cups of coffee with you already. You approached Steve’s office, knocking on the slightly ajar door, “May I enter?”

The door swung wide open, and Bucky immediately pulled you inside, closing and locking the door behind you. You snorted, “Wow, eager mu-mmf!” you couldn’t finish the teasing retory as a pair of lips matched up with yours, hands cupping your face. 

You heard a chuckle from behind you, “Buck, careful, you’re gonna make her spill the coffee she got for us.” He went over and grabbed the coffee tray from your hands.

You pulled away, mumbling, “Thank you,” to him and then looking back at Bucky who sported a dopey grin on his face, “How long were you waiting to do that?”

“So fucking long,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to yours once more, but it was brief since you pulled away.

“Hey now, two kisses and Steve hasn’t even gotten any from me yet. You’re starting to get greedy, mister.”

Bucky’s cheeks flushed and he ducked his head down shyly, “Sorry, doll,” he then moved aside for Steve. 

Steve pulled you in, wrapping an arm around you and slowly leaning in. His lips were hovering over yours and right as you were about to tell him to hurry up, his lips met yours in a passionate kiss. His fingers dug into your skin as he held onto you for dear life. For so long him and Bucky have wanted you like this and he feels like if he lets go, if he pulls away, it’ll all be a dream. 

Steve began to walk you backwards until your backside hit the edge of his desk. You pulled away to look at the two men, whose soft gazes faded and turned into lustful ones. 

You smirked, “I’ve always fantasized about being fucked on a desk.”

Both men growled as they started to undo their pants. Steve pressed you up against the desk, kissing you heatedly, while Bucky began to remove things from the surface. You hopped onto it after receiving the okay from Bucky. Steve worked on getting your jeans off while Bucky pulled of your shirt. Clothes flew around the room with no care where they landed. 

“Ah fuck, baby doll. You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Bucky moaned, his hand slowly pumping his cock and the other kneading your breast. 

You laid across the surface, opening your mouth, welcoming Bucky’s length. You both moaned when his dick entered your mouth. Bucky thrust his hips back and forth, loving how you looked taking his cock. 

Meanwhile, Steve was paying special attention to your pussy. He licked a strip up your slit, tongue circling around your clit. When you moaned a little too loud, Steve pulled away, “Quiet now, honey. Someone might here your pretty little noises and those are for our ears only.”

Bucky pulled out of your mouth for you to reply, “Sorry, Steve.”

“How wet is she, Stevie?” Bucky asked through his panting.

Steve licked his lips, “So fucking wet and she’s so sweet,” he murmured before slurping up some of your juices. 

Bucky whined, “Lemme taste.” Steve then stood up and leaned over the desk, pulling Bucky towards him, Lips smashing against lips. You wished you could’ve seen the two men swapping your taste, but the view was blocked by Bucky’s body leaning over yours. 

When they pulled away Steve cleared his throat, looking from you to Bucky, “So, how’s this gonna go: i fuck her pussy while you get her mouth, or vice versa?”

You shook your head, “No, I wanna feel you both at the same time.”

Both men moaned at the thought of both of their cocks filling you up to the brim. Steve nodded, “Very well. Bucky, on the table. Sweetheart, straddle Bucky.” Both you and Bucky did as you were told while Steve pulled out a bottle of lube from a drawer. 

You gave him a questioning look and Bucky chuckled, “This isn’t the first time we’ve fucked in this office, doll.” And just the image of Bucky and Steve fucking in this office made you even more wet than before. 

Steve, with his cock lubed up, knelt behind you and in-between Bucky’s legs, “You ready for us, babygirl?”

“I’ve literally been waiting all semester for this, Steve. Now hurry up and fuck me.”

Both men snickered at your haste, “Gotta give our girl what she wants,” Bucky mumbled as he lined himself up with you and you lowered yourself onto him. Steve was right behind you, pushing you forward and slowly easing himself into not wanting to hurt you. Moments pass they’re both inside you and, holy shit, this is something you’ve never felt before.

Both men stay still as they let you set the pace. You rock your body back and forth, allowing both cocks to drag themselves in and out of you. Seriously, the feeling was something unworldly. What made it ever better was Bucky’s lips on your chest and Steve’s hand working your clit. These men both knew what they were doing. 

“So fucking sexy, sweetheart, taking our cocks at the same time,” Steve murmured into your neck, “You love this, don’t you? Love being filled to the brim.”

Bucky bit at your skin, making you hiss, to which he mumbled, “Answer him, babydoll.”

“Yes, Steve. Love your cocks filling me whole,” you gasped when Bucky’s cock just hit that spot that made you shudder. With the way things were going, you knew you were gonna be cumming soon. 

“Wanna make a mess outta you, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, lips still wandering over your neck and chest, “Wanna fill you with our cum, paint you with it. Mark you as ours.”

“I’m yours,” you panted out, “I’m all yours,” you moved your body faster, desperate for your release. 

“Go ahead, baby, cum on our cocks. We wanna feel ya,” Steve mumbled in your ear, his hand working faster on your clit. You dug your nails into Bucky’s chest, a pain he happily welcomed. 

“Come on, baby. Give it us. You can do it,” Bucky encouraged you, slapping your ass and kneading the flesh. 

“Fuck, fuck,” you said through gritted teeth. A powerful wave of pleasure washed over you as leaned down, resting your head against Bucky’s while you came.

“So pretty when you cum,” he whispered.

“Such a good girl,” Steve murmured, kissing your back and shoulders. You moved a bit and felt something wet. You sat up and looked down to see that you just squirted all over you and Bucky.

“Oh shit. I’ve never done that before,” you murmured.

Bucky snickered, “First time for everything,” he said with a wink. 

You then moved off his lap, “Well, lemme clean this up for you since it is my mess.” Both men hissed when your hands wrapped around both their lengths, your mouth gliding over Bucky’s stomach and pelvis, collecting your own juices. 

“Oh my God, you’re perfect,” he moaned, his hand grabbing your head and trying to push it towards his cock.

You slapped his hand away, “I already sucked you off, babe. Now it’s Steve’s turn,” you said with a smirk. You gave a wink to the blonde as your mouth lowered onto his dick. Bucky was right, you are perfect. And you’re theirs. All theirs.

[villainever]

Touch Them, Talk to Them: Villaneve & Nuance in Villanelle's Psychopathy (2x07)

okay there is SO much to say about 2x07, but none of you want to read 10k words of analysis, so im going to pick one topic and stick to it (for now). in this post, im going to talk about how this episode is – I believe – a response to: a) villanelle’s season 1 claim that what she wants is, among other things, “someone to watch movies with”, b) eve’s question, “you really don’t feel anything?”, and c) martin’s assertion that to psychopaths, there are only “i / it” relationships. i think aaron is a fantastic opposite/parallel to villanelle, because i believe that a great antagonist doesn’t just provide practical obstacles in the plot-path of the protagonist, but removes obstacles in their character-path. an example of what i meant by this is that in season 1, villanelle killed bill, killed frank, ruined evidence, impeded the investigation, and messed eve around (obstructing her plot-path). but she also drove eve to confront the (sociopathic) personality traits that she’d been repressing, and helped eve find her sense of purpose, confidence and power (smoothing her character-path). in season 2, however, villanelle has been shifted from an ~antagonist~ (ostensibly, as she doesn’t fully conform to this reductive role) to a protagonist, and aaron replaces her as the mysterious Other. just as we had with eve/villanelle, he is both Like and Not-Like villanelle. it’s the likeness that makes him an interesting (and dangerous) opponent for her, but it’s the not-likeness that’s so significant.

in 2x06, villanelle has her iconic “boredom” speech, and monologues about how nothing makes her feel anything. so at the start of 2x07, eve asks her if that’s all true – although it seemed authentic, it’s fair enough of eve to ask, considering how often and easily villanelle lies while playing her characters, and that villanelle prompts her (“you’ll feel better if you talk about it”). villanelle’s reply is that she doesn’t actually KNOW if she’s telling the truth or not. i don’t think she’s deflecting here; she appears subtly, but genuinely, torn. she DOESN’T know. 

she wants to give eve a real answer, but she can’t. this is probably the result of a whole lot of mixed information: she’s obviously been told she’s a psychopath (by lawyers and therapists and fellow prisoners and konstantin, then eve), and she knows she enjoys killing people, controlling them, and she is often bored, too, like she said, but none of those things feels like enough. so she offers eve the most she can give: “i feel things when i’m with you.” and while she definitely means this – we could’ve guessed it, considering the lengths she’ll go to to even end up in the same country as eve – she’s still conflicted.

so then, in the last quarter of 2x07, we get this scene between villanelle and aaron:

he describes them as “voids”, and villanelle doesn’t hesitate before agreeing. she’s a psychopath, right? she must be a void. she’s not “nice and normal”. she doesn’t mind stabbing or suffocating or toying with other people. between her and aaron, there’s this heartbeat of dissonant kinship. she’s already joked that they might be “soulmates”, so here, she’s just chatting with him. she’s certain they’re fundamentally the same, and there’s not much to be learned from this, so she’s mostly humouring him. so she asks something out of mild interest, but she thinks she already knows the answer.

“do you ever get lonely?” villanelle does. she finds being cooped up by herself to be tedious, and uses the time to prepare her next interactions – elaborately faking her death for konstantin; planning new presents or tricks or reminders for eve. importantly, in defiance of the “incapable of ‘i / you’ relationships” idea, she is able to apply this notion of isolation to eve. in 2x06, she tells konstantin she’s texting eve “because [eve] might be lonely”. sure, villanelle primarily wants to know how much of an impact she had by killing someone right in front of eve, but she’s not really lying; she can follow and understand the emotional process of “niko left - today’s been a high-stakes day - eve is alone - eve might want somebody to decompress with”. and she feels compelled to offer eve that, to make things better for her. but:

like i said, villanelle has been trying to reach out on the common ground she percieves them as having. she expects to relate to aaron in every way, because he’s a psychopath, too. except aaron goes on about how he knows so much about people, how he observes them. villanelle often does this as well – stalking eve in clothing stores back in season 1, googling her, watching through her windows, etc. but that’s not even near to enough of eve for villanelle, so her reaction is one of confusion. “you don’t want to talk to them? touch them? sleep with them?" 

"god, no.” aaron’s inflection is almost one of disgust, and definitely one of superiority. it’s like she’s asked him if he’s interested in hanging out with rocks. he can’t imagine having any involvement behind mild amusement at the opportunity to manipulate people, like toys. “do you?” he asks.

“yeah! i do. all the time.” it’s an immediate knee-jerk response, and though it’s soft, it’s emphatic. villanelle doesn’t doubt her answer. as the shot pans out, she gives a slight gasp, and almost smiles (mirroring that slight smile through her sobs in amsterdam). aaron remains impassive.

i believe that this exchange is maybe the MOST important of the episode, second only to eve/villanelle’s semi-sex scene. i also believe that it’s this conversation with aaron that leads villanelle to breaching that last unspoken barrier between her and eve. to be clear, i’m not trying to say villanelle isn’t a psychopath. one revelation does not fifty people un-kill. just a handful of hours before this moment, she murdered gemma with a plastic bag. so i’m not suggesting villanelle is just like any of us. she’s not, eve’s not, and we don’t want them to be. my point is that this moment clarifies a lot for villanelle. she’s been trying to figure out her own capacity for emotion and connection. one thing that she’s considered a fact about herself since before the pilot is that she “wants someone to watch movies with”. she expresses this desire to eve and konstantin with no hesitation; she’s sure, and this becomes a tacit premise in a lot of her reasoning over the whole show. i suspect villanelle doesn’t have any long-term understanding of what that really means, but she wants it anyway. she also plans most of her life around being able to get closer to eve, whether by teasing her or helping her or steering those in eve’s life to create the required conditions for a confrontation.

which is why aaron telling her he has NO need for human contact is such a big deal. because villanelle obviously DOES. she needs it, she wants it, she always has. anna, eve; villanelle develops romances that run deep – even though she’s no longer obsessed with anna by season 1, she still clearly feels a connection to her, and i don’t think she’d have killed her if anna hadn’t killed herself. then there’s konstantin, and she’s a little shit to him, but she definitely missed him, if the way she ran into his arms in 2x03 after being forced to put up with raymond for ten minutes is any indication. villanelle and konstantin have a rapport, and they trust each other (in that they both know each other well enough to guess when they might betray each other, and can account for it accordingly). essentially, until now, villanelle has been running with the equation “aaron = psychopath; me = psychopath; thus, aaron = me”. she’d assumed that part of psychopathy was just the level of human interest she has – which is why she doesn’t have an issue telling eve “like us, you mean”, even though eve has a long-term relationship and friends: that amount of involvement is still realistic for them, right? but aaron doesn’t have this need for people. so now, “aaron =/= me” for villanelle.

crucially, this interaction gives villanelle CONTEXT. rather than dealing in absolutes, she now has a spectrum of psychopathy: “aaron –> me –> eve –> carolyn –> konstantin –> etc.” aaron has inadvertently told her that what she feels is real. maybe she’d almost believed that, seeing as psychopaths can’t feel anything, can only have the “i / it”, that what she experienced was an infatuation or illusion (although this was shaken by eve stabbing her and by crying in amsterdam); but here’s aaron confirming that the idea of fascination with/caring for people has never even occurred to him. and it does NOTHING BUT occur to villanelle. eve runs circles around her head.

let’s look at that in practice. aaron’s most significant relationship is with his sister, who he treats like crap. he’s got her babysat, won’t listen to her opinions (“the grownups are talking, amber”), disrespects a friend she likes, calls her a “thickie”. then villanelle, the closest thing he has to a friend – he watches her without her consent, plays dress-up and stay-still like she’s a doll, tells her what she’s going to do (“spit it out”) and instructs her on how she should feel (“you’ll be bored”). but villanelle? her most important relationship is with eve. and sure, she makes really fucked up choices, but she also makes an effort to consider how eve might feel, what eve might want, what might appeal to her. AND, she’s IMPROVED at that. for example, in 1x03, she kills bill to get eve’s attention, but it’s at the price of hurting her. by 2x07, though, villanelle won’t kill niko. it’s mostly selfish – she doesn’t want eve to be mad at her – but if it were aaron, he’d try and force eve to be un-mad somehow, with money or threats, etc. (not that aaron would bother; he wouldn’t mind if she hated him) villanelle, though, she wants eve to ACTUALLY love her, not to HAVE to love her. villanelle is manipulative, obviously (e.g. telling niko that eve stabbed her to cause a rift between them), but she sees these indirect manipulations as a way to arrange things how she wants (it doesn’t really occur that there might be an alternative), and attempts to course-correct when eve sometimes gets upset. this is huge for villanelle. aaron gives her something NOBODY else can, by being like her, but less like her than she’d believed. the distinction between them might seem minute to viewers who have the full range of emotions/empathy, but for villanelle, that small difference means the world. it means her and eve are REAL, or real enough. martin said, “don’t add, take away”. but aaron proves that that can be true by degrees; villanelle is dotted with minuses, but fewer minuses than aaron. this is set up throughout the episode, kicked off thematically by eve’s question, but compounded by aaron’s consistent use of villanelle like a thing. THIS is an “i / it” dynamic. “stay there, exactly like that”. “wear this”. “these are your clothes now”. “we’re leaving”. “you’ll get ice-cream, and i’ll watch you eat it”. to him, villanelle is a totally disposable puppet. but over and over and over we’ve been shown that this ISN’T how villanelle perceives eve, and that’s definitely cemented in amsterdam, when villanelle breaks down over eve “forgetting” her. 

aaron, like villanelle, has up until this point mistaken them for exactly alike, but they’ve been miscommunicating all along. at lunch, villanelle said, “i dont like rich men” – meaning, i like women, specifically eve, and i have my own resources. aaron counters, “but you like money”. he’s misinterpreted, and thinks villanelle means, like him, that she never wants to have sex or talk with other humans. instead, he concludes that she likes the material object of money, and the subsequent ability to aquire items which might spark some kind of response – and this lines up with villanelle’s later remark about liking to buy and own things, which aaron recognises in himself. they’re replying to each other, but really, they’re having slightly different conversations. so what does this mean, overall? we’ve known forever that villanelle wants eve to be the person she “watches movies with”, but this conversation tells villanelle she could maybe be that person to eve, too. villanelle can “love” in her own unique way, can be present. and because eve’s stepping off the ledge and meeting her in the middle, neither of them will have to be anything other than who they actually are. and they can be who they actually are, together. this analysis got a lot more muddled than i wanted it to, because im a lil wine drunk after haning out with some friends, but i had Thoughts. i have many more Thoughts about the villaneve hookup, hugo, gemma’s death, why aaron is such a creepy villain, carolyn’s plans, etc. but i’ll leave it here for now. i hope this made some sense lmfao.

[kissjun]

restrained — part 1

masterlist | part 2

a/n | this is my first time posting so im really nervous but i hope u like it🥺🥺

—

The chaos was slow. It was too quiet. No one would have suspected the world was reaching it’s end at first glance, but the chaos didn’t have to be ragingly physical to be there. Everyone was dying and they didnt even know. Everything was a slow burn—and that’s what made it horrifying.

No one knew where the disease had come from. All they knew is that there was no cure; and it started with a simple nose bleed. Victims would feel dizzy and nauseous for a few days. But after that, things would seem to get better. That was the worst part. It seemed as if all of the sudden, they were in their own utopia—they were always clean, had full bellies, and were fully rested. The world was a safe haven. Everyone was a friend. But the thing was, it was the exact opposite. Their brains only made them think they were never hungry—so they starved. It made them think they were never tired—so they became insomniacs. It made them think the world was perfect—so they were careless. The disease was a virus that blinded victims with a false euphoria that took over their minds and drove them insane until the sickness demolished them from the inside out; and they were dead.

Except for the Generation Z—or just the Z, she heard people call them. Suspicion rose like wildfire when the world realized: the disease didn't affect the young. They were immune. She was immune. The youth were thriving, and the millennial were dying; and they were going to do all they could to save themselves.

•

It had been a month since her parents died. She would never be able to forget that day, simply because of the looks on their faces: it wasn't horror, or pain. There was no sadness, tears, or goodbyes. They were laughing. First it was her mother, who she'd found curled in a ball on the living room floor. Her cheek was smeared with blood from the constant nose bleeds, giggling to herself like a child in their sleep—but this time she didn't wake up. When she had rushed to tell her father about it, he didn't budge a muscle, not much to her surprise. He simply continued his eerie drawing of messy scribbles as if it were his life work, telling her not to worry about it. Her father was an artist before the disease—so part of seeing him do something he did before the chaos made her feel normal. But when her father collapsed not long after, spitting out the familiar deep red tint of the blood she would never get used to—it was over. She was alone. Broken.

When the disease first broke out, many people evacuated the city—and even the country if they could, trying to avoid getting sick. But her parents were urged to stay, thinking it ridiculous to run from a sickness. It just wasn't possible—it could be anywhere. Even if they were right, being at home was just as dangerous as being anywhere else—and their deaths were to show for that.

She hadn't dared to leave the house since then. It was too dangerous to go out alone with all the Crazies (the infected that you should definitely stay away from), especially by herself. There was enough food to suffice, although she knew it wouldn't last forever. Fortunate enough, soldiers from a nearby facility managed to scout her out, along with some other kids from the area. They promised to take them somewhere else. Somewhere safe.

Seeing no better option, here she was. Leaning against the worn leather seat of the half empty school bus. Most of the kids looked around her age; no older than 18, she guessed. She caught glimpse of a young girl who couldn't have been older than ten, and almost felt her heart break. Where were her parents? Did the little girl have to see the things that she saw? The little girl's parents weren't with her anymore, and now she was alone. Nothing was familiar to her anymore. Or anyone.

The engine sloppily roared to life, vibrating the vehicle and everything inside of it. She leaned her head against the window, closing her eyes as she tried keep her mind clear. She didn't want to think about anything. She didn't want to be scared, or sad, or even excited. She just wanted to get there. She couldn't bring herself to admit it, but she didn't want to be alone anymore.

After nodding off for the fifth time, the school bus came to an abrupt stop, jolting her from her sleep. The engines hissed and the doors opened as a tall, redheaded woman walked onto the bus, clutching her metal clipboard to her chest.

“Hello,” she plastered on a tight smile. “My name is Lillian. I'll be your guide for today, so if you could just follow me, I would be more than happy to show you around the facility.”

She stepped off of the bus without another word. One by one, the kids on the bus followed behind Lillian's trail, murmuring among each other as they emptied the bus.

As her feet hit the gravel, her eyes met the modernized facility before her. The center of the building was a massive four stories high, holding nothing between her and the inside but tinted glass windows. On the left and right sides, the building branched off of the first and second floors into more secured buildings with cement walls and much fewer windows. The building structure reminded her of a bird spreading it's wings. It was less broken down than any of the other buildings she'd seen lately, too.

“Welcome to the Youth Repository Facility,” Lillian spoke over her shoulder. She walked through the first set of automatic sliding doors, leading everyone inside the facility. “This is your home now.”

It wasn't empty inside, but it wasn't exactly buzzing with life either. An old lady with overly-rosy cheeks took place at the front desk, flashing a half-hearted smile before returning to her book. A few sofas accompanied the spacious lobby, occupied by chattering teens, some elementary kids scattered across the floors, a few girls playing with dolls and a young boy reading a picture book.

Seems homey enough.

“This is the lobby. You can come to our receptionist, Mrs. Lynn, any time you have a question. The entire second floor contains the kitchen and cafeteria, where you will be served three meals a day,” Lillian pointed to the black spiral staircase in the center of the room that lead to the second floor. She turned back to the small crowd. “And the east wing is where you will be sleeping. I apologize if it's an inconvenience, but eventually everyone will be put two per room, for obvious spacial reasons.”

Her robotic tone gave the impression that she had practiced this speech one too many times, yet still not enough. She continued, “As said before, this is your home now. And as all homes have them, we do have a few rules.”

She returned her backside to the group, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she trotted towards towards the east wing. “For one, the west wing as well as the third and fourth floors are completely off limits. You can't operate the elevators or open the doors without access to a key, regardless. Two, we do have a basic schedule. Breakfast is at 9 AM, lunch is at noon, and dinner is at 6 PM. Curfew is at 9 PM and you're to go back to your rooms until morning.”

The automatic doors leading to the wing slid open, allowing the newcomers to pour in. Lillian led down the wide hall before taking another right. The new hall was lined with more tinted glass, and if it weren't for the lights on on the other side, she wasn't sure if she would be able to tell what was behind it.

What was on the other side of the glass surprised her—a bunk bed pushed against the wall of the, astoundingly, but barely spacious area. The room contained a tall dresser, a small table, and even a tiny sink pushed in the far corner. It was far from dazzling, but it wasn't bad. Duplicates of the room were lined down the hall on both sides. Only a thin, back wall separated the rooms side by side; but it was better than more glass.

Her group waited for further instruction as Lillian came to a halt. She pointed to the small lights above the glass doors. “Two green lights means the room is completely vacant. One green light means someone is still in need of a roommate. You may also look for rooms in the opposite hall, so pick and choose as you please. You'll have time to get yourselves situated before dinner. There will be a bell to signal when it's time to come up. Any questions?”

She wasn't surprised when no one spoke up; she'd spit so much at them in the span of five minutes . . . it was hard to process everything at once. With a simple nod, Lillian gestured for the group to get to business before exiting the hall with her busy pace.

Being near the back of the group, she trudged behind slowly, waiting for others to pick their rooms. Her eyes scanned the green lights. She already told herself she was going to look for one with only one green light; she didn't want to take a vacant room from someone who might want to share with someone they came with. She, however, wouldn't know her roommate regardless.

A few turned to curiously search down the other hall, and others had already called dibs. Her eyes found a door on the left—it only had one light. 515 was labeled beside the green glow. Letting out a breath, she politely pushed past a few people and grabbed a hold of the metal handle. Slowly pushing the door open, she glanced around as she slipped inside.

A young boy sat up from the bottom bunk, his dark and messy hair falling into his eyes. He looked a little caught off guard. “Oh, uh, hi.”

“Hi,” she pursed her lips. “Is it okay if I room with you? If not, I can find another—”

“No, no,” he shook his head almost too quickly. “It's fine. Really. You, uh, want the bottom bunk or anything? I can switch if you want.”

“I'm fine with the top,” she assured him. He nodded awkwardly, and she let her eyes wander around the room. It was identical to all the other ones she'd passed, with the exception of some junk on the dresser and a pair of plain white shoes in the middle of the floor.

“What's your name?” the boy asked, and she told him.

“I'm Mark,” he said as he held his hand out. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” she took his hand with a smile. “How long have you been here?”

“A couple of days. Not long, really.”

“Do you like it?”

“I guess so. I mean, it can be kinda weird sometimes, but overall it’s better than being out there,” he scratched the back of his neck.

“You’re not wrong,” she admitted. Anything had to be better than watching the world she once knew decay before her; all while she hid for her life from the Crazies that wanted nothing but blood. “What kind of weird?”

“Well,” he hesitated. “I guess . . . some buddies of mine think people are being taken from their rooms at night. We thought maybe they're being moved to another facility since we're filling up pretty quick here. But . . .”

“But?” she raised an eyebrow, curiouser.

“I dunno, it's kinda dumb,” Mark brushed it off, clearly antsy. An electronic ding sounded from the intercom, and Mark jabbed his thumb at the ceiling. “You hungry?”

A simple nod was all Mark needed before he was pulling her out of their room. She followed him the way she came, backtracking through the halls and the sliding doors that lead back to the lobby. The two of them fell into rhythm with the small crowd kids that were making their way to the second floor as well.

The second floor felt huge—it was a large area in general, but especially because it was surrounded by nothing but glass. The round lunch tables were spread evenly across the entire floor, and there surely had to be enough seats to fit half a thousand. It was bright and busy; a feeling she still hadn't gotten used to. But she liked it.

She followed Mark into the lunch line, letting the employees behind the counter fill their plates with the best food she'd smelled in months. Since her parents had gotten sick, she'd mainly relied on canned vegetables and packets of cold meat. She could only handle so many meals of cold hot-dogs and carrots before she decided she would only eat when she thought she was going to starve.

“This looks amazing,” she voiced barely above a whisper.

“Right?” Mark laughed. “When was the last time you ate?”

“It's been a few days,” she admitted. “But only because all I had was canned veggies and refrigerated meat for the last few months. Hot-dogs, bologna, all that. Just the smell makes you wanna puke after a while.”

“Dude, no joke,” he shivered. “Entire months? I would've died the third day. Hot-dogs are fine, like, once a week, if even that. But for months straight? I don't even wanna imagine.”

A small laugh escaped her lips as she shook her head. It almost surprised her, given how long it had been since she'd heard herself laugh.  “Don't. You'll be scarred for life.”

When the two finished filling their plates, she followed Mark to a small table near the window. He slid into one of the metal chairs, next to two other boys she hadn't seen before. Taking one of the vacant seats, she placed her tray down next to Mark.

“Ooh,” a boy with fading pink hair flashed the brightest smile in her direction. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Depends,” the blonde next to him raised an eyebrow. “What do you think it is?”

“A pretty girl, a new friend,” the first boy held his grin. “Mine, obviously. Not yours. No one wants to be friends with a three foot gremlin—”

“A three foot—“ the second boy didn't hesitate to pull the other into a headlock, playfully ruffling his hair. The first boy let out a noise that sounded like a mix of struggle and laughter—and she couldn't help but smile. She glanced at Mark, who was smiling to himself as well.

“This is Jaemin,” Mark pointed to the one in a headlock, then to the one initiating the torture. “That's Renjun.”

The boys retreated from their manhandling, and turned their attention back to their friend and the newcomer. Jaemin attempted to fix his mess of a head, but there was definitely no use trying. Renjun seemed satisfied at that.

“Ah, nice to meet you!” Renjun beamed after she introduced herself. “Are you new?”

She nodded. “Yeah. I'm Mark's roommate.”

“Dude, how did you get stuck with a girl?” Jaemin wondered.

Renjun elbowed his arm. “She's literally sitting right there. Everyone picks their cells, dimwit.”

“Cells?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Oh . . . yeah, according to Renjun, that's what they call our rooms or whatever,” Mark rolled his eyes. “He said he overheard doctors talking one time. They kept calling them 'sleep cells' and 'cell five-oh-whatever'. Like, what is this, a jail?“

“Or a science research lab—which it is,” Renjun held a finger in the air.

Jaemin groaned. “He never stops with the conspiracy theories. Renjun, your life isn't a science fiction novel! Dude, give it up.”

“Listen,” he turned to her, bluntly ignoring Jaemin. “Don't you think it's weird that we can't go into the west wing? Or the top two floors? Or that we can't go out past 9 o'clock? That they lock us in our rooms until morning? And people are going for 'checkups'—” he quoted with his fingers. “—in the west wing; and some of them aren't even coming back! Not to mention this place is literally called a Youth Repository Facility. Like they think we don't know big words. They're acting like we're objects! Don't you think it's a little weird?”

She pondered. He was convincing, but she'd only been there for no longer than an hour. What would she know? Not to mention she didn't know any of them well enough to tell if he was just a kid that played way too many video games before the break out.

“Dude,” Mark deadpanned. “It's called authority. Yeah, maybe they're being extra, but did your parents not give you a curfew? And a dinner time, and a bedtime, and a playtime? Weren't there things you were and weren't allowed to get into at home? See? You're just paranoid.”

“At least people didn't go missing when I was with my parents,” Renjun muttered.

“Missing?” She looked between the boys as they visibly tensed.

“They've been taking people from their cells at night,”' Renjun didn't hesitate to inform. “None of them have came back. Not even—”

“Renjun,” Mark sighed.

“What? Why can't we talk about it? I watched them take Chenle, and he still hasn't come back. He was our friend, so why do you keep pretending like it didn't happen?”

“You wouldn't even be on about this if you would have just taken your pills like you were supposed to . . .” Mark added.

“What pills?” she asked.

“Sleeping pills,” Renjun said, lowering his voice. “They make us take fucking sleeping pills. Every night! They say it's for our health, but health my ass. If I didn't skip them, no one would know anything about Chenle.”

“Look, we don't know what happened to Chenle. There's as much of a chance that something good is happening to him as there is something bad,” Jaemin tried.

“Automatically assuming it was something good doesn't make it something good,” Renjun huffed.

“Neither does assuming it's something bad. There's nothing we can do here, Jun. We just have to wait,” Jaemin said softer, easing the tension in the air. He pinched his ear. “For now why don't you lay off those evil scientist novels you hide under your bed, huh?”

Renjun flicked Jaemin's hand off, pouting. “I hope they take you next and dissect your brain.”

As the two boys bickered on, conversation eventually drifted off into lighter subjects. She found out that Renjun and Jaemin had been classmates before the breakout, and that they came here together. Mark had met the two the day they all arrived. To her surprise, Renjun and Jaemin shared a cell only four doors down from hers and Mark's. It made her feel better knowing she had people she could trust around her. After going months without speaking to a single sane person—this was a breath of fresh air.

She stood to place her tray in the window of piling dirty trays, where a man with graying hair washed the dishes. After flashing a friendly smile, she returned to Mark and the others. Jaemin continued babbling something about something 'being so cute' and Mark would constantly scrunch his nose and reply with, “Dude . . .”

Making their way back to the lobby, the four friends decided to take lounge on two nearby couches that sat face to face, divided by a small mahogany coffee table.

“So,” Jaemin plopped onto the seat across from her. “Do you like the facility so far?”

“It's okay,” she shrugged. She wasn't sure what she was supposed to say; only being there for about an hour didn't give her a lot of time for everything to sink in. As for first impressions went, it was a nice place. It was clean, organized, and there were a lot of kids her age. She felt comfortable. But . . . she couldn't shake the eerie feeling off from what Renjun had said earlier. “I'm just glad I'm not alone anymore.”

She hated the feeling of being alone in her dark, cold house. The electric didn't work, and neither did the heat—so it being late September, she clung to layers of blankets and the few candles she had left like her life depended on it. She locked herself in the bathroom, too horrified by the sight and smell of her parents rotting bodies. She wanted to move them—she did. She wanted to bury them and say proper goodbyes. But she couldn't make herself do it. She couldn't handle it. Everything was too quiet. Too empty. She was too alone.

Renjun frowned, noticing the change in her expression. “Even if this place weirds me out sometimes, I do think they did something good by saving us all and putting us together. Now we all have each other.”

She smiled. Now she has them.

“Yeah!” Jaemin chirped. “Let's make it a promise.”

“Make what a promise?” Mark raised an eyebrow.

“Go like this,” Jaemin crossed his wrists over each other, holding out his pinky fingers. Everyone followed. “Let's promise to always be there for each other, yeah? I, Na Jaemin, swear that if any of you need anything, I'll be there for you.”

She shared a glance with Mark and Renjun, who didn't seem opposed to Jaemin's antics. Personally, she liked the idea. She felt safe knowing she had people she could count on. All she wanted was to feel safe again.

“So do I,” she said, linking her pinky with his. Renjun and Mark followed suit almost immediately after, much to Jaemin's satisfaction.

“Good,” Jaemin smiled as they released the small pinky promise circle. “With that being said, someone find me some ice cream—“

Renjun shot across the coffee table almost immediately, pulling the giggling boy into another headlock. “Rule number one, every time Jaemin says something dumb, Renjun is obligated to beat him up.”

Mark raised a hand. “I'm all for that.”

Rolling her eyes, she let out a laugh. She wasn't sure how she got stuck with three idiotic boys—but she wasn't going to complain. After the four had been goofing around for what seemed like forever, mentions of a shower came up. When Mark saw her eyes light up, he informed her where the showers were, and an extra change of clothes in their room. Thanking him, she head off to grab them.

It didn't surprise her when she opened the bottom drawer of the dresser and found nothing but black sweatpants and the same URF logo t-shirt she'd seen everyone else, including Mark, Jaemin, and Renjun wearing. At least the facility had a sense of comfort; they could've put everyone in boxy uniforms or prison jumpsuits.

Slipping back into the hallway, she recited Mark's directions to the showers. It was only two turns from their hall, but the facility was huge—she couldn't help but feel like she was getting lost; and when she'd taken her fourth turn and still hadn't came across the showers, she let out a defeated sigh. I'm such an idiot.

Before she could turn to backtrack her steps, she heard a deep voice call from down the other hallways. “Hey, can I help you?”

The slightest amount of panic surged through her body. Was she somewhere she wasn't supposed to be? Was she going to be in trouble? “I—No, sorry . . . I was just looking for the showers.”

As the soldier approached, she noticed that he was definitely not as old as she thought he was going to be. Or should be. He was the youngest soldier she'd seen since the disease broke out; most soldiers were around their fifties—they were always older. That's how it worked. The younger ones were controlled, and the oldest ones controlled. So seeing a soldier so strangely close to her age felt odd. It was like an army of wolves controlling a crowd of bunnies—but, for some reason, one of the bunnies happens to be in the army of wolves, helping them control the other bunnies. It didn't make sense.

“This way,” the soldier said, leading her back down the way she came at a strictly fast pace. She eyed the gun attached to his him, an uncomfortable feeling washing through her. He wasn't the only one armed like that—they all were. There were soldiers in the lunch room, the lobby, and at one point Jaemin had mentioned that they sweep the halls every night. And they were always armed.

Glancing at the boy's face, he didn't seem like the type to shoot someone, let alone an innocent kid. His eyes were big and dark, nose soft and curved. Underneath the hard mask he wore to be a soldier, he more or less looked like a decent person.

“You look a little young to be a soldier,” she blurted out. He blinked, not bothering to glance at her as he continued down another hall she hadn't taken before. “How old are you?”

They came to a stop as they approached what seemed to be the showers. She could hear the heavenly sound of water splashing behind the metal doors, and just the thought of finally being able to scrub herself until she felt brand new put her in cloud nine.

“The facility has rules,” he finally replied, voice monotone. “Soldiers, staff and guests aren’t to have personal interactions. Enjoy your shower.”

With that, the boy walked away, leaving her baffled. What was that? “It was just a question,” she mumbled before pushing into the showers.

Nothing could describe the pure bliss she felt when the warm water hit her skin. She immediately tended to scrubbing a months worth of grime off of her skin, watching everything that happened before she arrived wash down the drain. After doing the same to her hair, she got to brushing her teeth with the extra toiletries they so kindly offered.

When she was done brushing her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her skin had gotten a shade lighter after scrubbing everything off, and her hair felt two times softer. She felt brand new—and she took this as a chance to start over. This was her new beginning.

Mark was lazed across the bottom bunk when she returned to their room, fiddling with something too small for her to see. He looked up when she entered, greeting her with a smile. “Feel better?”

“A lot,” she nodded.

“You look better,” he almost laughed, making her wonder if he was trying to tease her.

She stretched her back. “You have a crush on me now or something?”

“What? No!” He said defensively, reminding you of a little kid. He leaned back on his pillow. “Next time I'll just call you ugly.”

She almost laughs. “You know, I'm glad you're my roommate and not some weirdo—oh wait.”

“And I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that,” he replied.

“You do that,” she grinned as someone knocked on the glass door behind her. The two turned their heads as a nurse took it upon herself to open the door, letting herself in.

“Time for your meds,” the nurse smiled, holding up a tray with two white pills laying on top. “Don't worry, everyone takes it. It's a vitamin to sustain your health and make sure you're getting the right amount of sleep.”

She thought back to Renjun. Vitamin my ass.

Mark looked between her and the nurse, being the first to take the pill. “Thanks.”

She took the remaining pill, rolling it between her fingers. When the nurse didn't leave, she looked to Mark in confusion. He popped his pill in his mouth, swallowing, then opened his mouth for the nurse to check with her mini flashlight. He looked to her, and she did the same. She slid the pill in her mouth, swallowing it without seeing much choice. She opened her mouth for the nurse, lifting her tongue.

The nurse hummed contently. “Now, it may take a tiny bit longer for the medicine to kick in for you, since you've never taken it before, but I assure you a good night's sleep will be with you soon enough.” One nod was all the nurse needed before she took her cue to exit the room.

She and Mark shared a look before he returned to his spot on his bed. “So, Renjun wasn't lying about all that stuff? Was that a sleeping pill?”

“Lying, no,” he admitted. “Exaggerating, maybe. And yeah, the pill pretty much knocks you out.”

“Exaggerating, only maybe?” she asked, crawling onto the top bunk. Exhaustion washed over her.

“I don't know,” he said. The lights in the room dimmed, along with the ones in the hall. She could barely see anything. “He can be extra.”

Was he being extra, though? Or were the others being too oblivious? Everything Renjun said added up—it all made sense. But it wasn't something anyone would be worried about until it was pointed out. The facility was good; they saved lost, innocent kids that somehow ended up alone. They put everyone together, where they can connect and be stronger. They gave everyone a chance to feel normal again—like a part of a family. But the question was; were their motives as good as their actions? Did they have different intentions like Renjun thought? Or was all of this just too much overthinking?

She rubbed her eyes. It was only her first day—she shouldn't be worrying about so much that she didn't know. She should be thankful, and happy that she can go to sleep not having to worry about people invading her house, trying to steal things or putting a gun to her head. It felt nice to know she wasn't alone anymore; everyone in the facility had gone through, and was going through, almost the exact same as her. All of them had lost someone. All of them were alone. All of them were found. All of them were immune. She felt like a part of something again, and she didn't want to lose that feeling.

A sudden click made her jump out of her thoughts. Her eyes fell to the digital clock on the top of the dresser. 9:00 PM. Renjun was right again.

It’d only been roughly 20 minutes and Mark was somehow already snoring—and although she was feeling drowsy herself, her curiosity kept her awake. She shuffled out of bed, her bare feet meeting the cold ground as she tiptoed her way to the thin, glass door. She gripped the icy, metal handle and tugged. It was locked. What was the point of locking them inside if they were asleep? It's not like they didn't just give everyone a sleeping pill to make sure of that.

She lazily glanced at Mark, who was peacefully snoozing. It made her even more tired—but she didn't like it. She felt like she was being forced down; forced to close her eyes to sleep. It didn't feel right. When she spun back to the door, her eyes met with another—the young soldier that she met earlier. She jumped back in surprise, proud of herself for only letting the slightest squeak escape her throat.

The soldier only looked at her, motionless. She slowly lifted her hand, mustering a small wave.

“What are you doing?” he asked, surprisingly audible through the glass. She could tell he was trying to be intimidating, but his round eyes and soft lips betrayed him. Kind of.

“Nothing,” she replied, hazy from the pill. In all honesty, if it weren't for how much she'd been over-thinking, she probably would've been fast asleep already.

“You were trying to open the door,” he glanced at her hand, gripping the metal door handle. She immediately released it.

“I was just curious,” she admitted.

“Didn't you take your pill?” he asked, sounding a little more casual.

“Yes,” she felt herself wobbling, her knees almost failing to keep herself upright. She didn't feel as tired as her body made her out to be, which annoyed her to the core. Why couldn't she keep her eyes open a little longer?

“Hey,” the soldier said, putting his finger to the glass. “Go lay in your bed. You're gonna—“

“Why are you being so secretive about your age?” she tilted her head in confusion. She could only squint at this point; trying to keep her eyes open was a lost cause. She caught glimpse of the name tag attached to his uniform. His name was Lucas. “It's just a question.”

“A personal, unimportant question,” he stated, annoyance tinting his voice. “Now seriously, go lay in your bed before you fall over or something.”

“Fine,” she pouted, turning to return to her bed. If he wanted to be difficult, he could be difficult; but she was on the verge of passing out and she found that she could care less at the moment.

Much to her misfortune, as she took her fourth step, everything in front of her faded into black, and she couldn't hold herself up anymore. She let herself sink to the cold floor, curling into a ball as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Damn sleeping pill.

—

masterlist | part 2

[thelamppoststation]

Future’s Past by TheLampPost

In 2008, a year after James managed to get off that godforsaken rock, he receives a visit from a young woman with blue eyes and blonde hair. She hands him a locket and a letter, then demands answers to questions that he didn't even know existed. Post season 6 (Suliet) - This story is also partly set during the DHARMA days.

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Chapter 1: Wonder                                                    

              DHARMA Initiative: Motor Pool, July 1975            

"I'm pretty sure it's the engine. It's been giving me trouble for the past week and a half. There's this odd ticking sound," Phil jerked his index-finger back and forth, "that just won't let up."

"Uhu."

"I'm pretty sure I saw some smoke in my rear-view the other day as well."

"Uhu."

"And the backlight is busted."

"Uhu."

"Look, I would have brought it in sooner, but you know how LaFleur gets."

Danny snorted.

"I do, do I?"

"He's been up my ass all week about clocking in late. I told him, 'listen, I can't help it, sleep paralysis is a real thing, you know?' But he's just not been in a very sympathetic mood, lately."

"Uhu."

Danny stepped around back and unlocked the latch on the blue VW T2. He groaned, scratched the back of his head, reaching for a non-existing itch that was easier to define than the inside of this particular engine. That was a lie. He understood perfectly well. Trouble was, he didn't care to understand. Good American vans were easy to come by nowadays. In fact, just the other day he heard Mitchell talk about the latest Chevrolets, how they're taking the market by storm, and yet folks here imported German vans. German. Vans. It was irritating, not up to par, and he should have objected to this detail when they first assigned it to him. After all, his skill lay in engineering, not fixing Nazi cars.

He closed the latch and sighed; Phil was still babbling away in his left ear, something about sleep apnoea and narcolepsy. Where did the Initiative find this guy, anyway?

"I'll have Juliet take a look at it."

"Juliet?"

Phil's thick brows shot up, not quite disappearing beneath his thinning hairline.

"She's s'posed to start her shift at one."

"Juliet Carlson?"

"Uhu."

"You hiring women these days?"

Danny shrugged.

"Many of them emancipated ones want to grease up, try out some real jobs; I ain't complaining, the view's been much improved since she started tinkering away," he winked and motioned for Phil to step closer. "Nimble fingers, that one's got," Phil's eyes widened and Danny playfully punched him in the arm.

"You and her?"

"Ha! I wish. Pretty sure she's got a thing for your boss."

"LaFleur?!" Phil frowned. "How'd you figure that?"

"He comes 'round here lookin' for them blonde locks more often than Linus beats up his kid in a drunken frenzy."

"Danny!" Phil exclaimed, then dropped his voice to a low whisper. "We don't talk about that."

"We ain't talkin' 'bout lotsa things that's goin' on 'round here. Don't mean it don't happen, Phil."

"It's none of our business."

"Yeah? You gone say that to his kid if ever he come knockin' on ya door for help? 'Ain't none of my business, kid. Scram?' Or what about them recruits we buried last week? I ain't seen a single letter went out to them families. We also just gone pretend that ain't our business?"

The truth of the matter was, Danny wasn't wrong, he knew he wasn't; too many things were happening on the island that consistently and conveniently escaped members' attention. Just the other day, after he'd caught Linus beating the shit out of his sad puppy of a kid again, it occurred to him that he just couldn't be the only one who'd ever been witness to such a plain show of domestic abuse. How could he be? What a farce! The D.I. endlessly prattled on about life and death, war and peace, love and hate; they talked about everything that went above and beyond mere mortal comprehension; yet, when it really came down to it – whenever, Roger would turn up drunk for his shift again, or Ben showed up to class with a black eye and busted glasses – well, if anyone'd ask him, he'd say the DHARMA folk just didn't want to see. 'Them things that truly need fixin', them things that matter in the here and now; them such things don't matter to the DHARMA fuckin' Initiative.'

"It ain't! - I mean, it isn't!" Phil nervously pulled at his sleeves.

"Uhu," Danny sniffed. "Guess it ain't, then."

"Hi boys!"

Phil jumped, unprepared for the sudden intrusion. Danny jerked around, a genuine 100-watt smile gracing his face. At least the island provided him with some distractions; them nice blue eyes surely gave him palpitations from time to time.

"Well, well, if it ain't Jules. You early, doll. Your shift don't start 'til one."

"Hi Phil."

"Juliet," Phil gave her a curt nod, his eyes darting off to the side.

"I left early yesterday, figured I'd make up for the time today."

"Well, you're in luck. Phil here says his van needs some lovin'; told him you're just the gal he's lookin' for."

She grinned and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

"Suppose she's not your type, eh?"

"Nah, you know how I like 'em, big and busty. None of that angular, wide eyed crap" he winked.

Juliet shook her head, unable to hide the amusement that tugged at the corners of her lips.

She should be more outraged by such sexual innuendos, but this was Danny, and Danny was about as threatening as a baby hippopotamus. Ever since she'd signed up for the motor pool detail she'd expected backlash, ridicule, jokes about her inability to hold a screwdriver the right way up. But instead of huffing and puffing about her true place being in the kitchen, Danny had surprised her. His open-mindedness about her abilities made her feel welcome, and as a result she embraced his testing and teasing with a smile rather than a grimace. Also, she was capable of making some pretty sharp remarks of her own keeping Danny on his toes plenty.

"What seems to be the problem?"

She stepped closer to the van, and turned her attention back to Phil. He gave her an odd look and a quick once over before spewing forth an incomprehensible string off words.

"I – uh," a twitch tugged at his eye.

"I – eh," he scraped his throat.

"The engine is ticking and – uh– I."

He pulled at his collar.

"Uh, backlight –."

Danny sniggered, and put an arm around Phil's shoulder.

"The engine is givin' 'im some hiccups, and you're gonna wanna replace the backlight," he said.

"Right," Phil nodded. "That."

"Okay, no problem. I'll see what I can do," she moved towards the work station and slipped her gloves on. "Check back in at the end of the afternoon."

Phil gave her another curt nod.

"Anything else?"

"No," he said, his eyes sliding up and down her jumpsuit once more, then he turned to Danny, pursed his lips and said:

"See you later, Dan."

"later, Phil."

Juliet tilted her head to the side as she watched Phil stalk off in the direction of the barracks.

"What's with Phil?"

"What ain't with Phil?" he snorted.

She laughed.

" 'S got his panties all tied up in a knot when he heard his boss and you are sweet on each other."

She froze; the look in Danny's eyes imparting far more than she was willing to acknowledge. How in the hell did that rumor spread about?

"Where'd you hear that?" she asked, leaping back into movement. She opened the van's front latch, and propped the hood up.

"You ain't foolin' anyone, doll. He's up here more often than he's out 'n 'bout checkin' perimeters. Always somethin' "broke" on his VW. Uhu," he winked.

"It's not like that, Danny. You know that."

"I'm just tellin' 'em how I see 'em, doll. And I sure seen lotsa ogling happenin' 'round these parts lately."

"I'm telling you, you're seeing it wrong."

"I am, am I?"

He tapped his nose, then shrugged and slammed his hand against the side of the van.

"Don't forget to freshen the oil, doll," He turned away. "I'll be in my office. Say hi to LaFleur when he stops by."

He walked away.

"Shit," she whispered under her breath.

He wasn't wrong, James had been stopping by a lot, lately. In fact, his van would randomly break down at least twice a week, and whenever he wasn't able to make it to the motor pool he'd find some way to lure her out into the jungle. Not Mitchell, not Tom, not Danny; he always requested her. Stolen moments between noon and night time, where the undergrowth, vines and muddy soil created noisy friction and impossibly to wash out stains. To think that they were getting away with it, she snorted. So much for keeping the "un" out of the "complicated".

"Shit, shit, shit," she pulled off her gloves, and threw them back onto the work station.

"What ya cursin' at the world for, Blondie?"

And there he was, just like Danny said he would be; a dimpled smirk plastered onto the side of his face. She felt a flutter pull at her insides as he leaned against Phil's van and crossed his arms in front of his chest. There was a slight spark in his eyes today, burning holes into carefully constructed resolutions; just by looking at him she was already breaking promises that she'd only just made.

Fuck.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped.

"Thought you might wa–… you in some kind of trouble, or somethin'?"

She huffed.

"Danny thinks he's got us all figured out," she motioned between them.

"Oh…"

"Yeah, oh."

She shook her head and turned away from the station, but before she could brush by him he caught her arm in mid-stride. Another wave of flutters raced through her body, tripling her heartbeat; a thousand tiny wings flapping in the darkness, tying her to the present. This was crazy. What they'd been doing was crazy. There was a time, not too long ago, that these exact same eyes had looked at her with disgust. When he'd banded together with Sayid, had watched her from the corners of narrowed eyes. Nothing would have pleased him more than to have put a bullet through her head when she'd walked away with Claire's medicine, having revealed more about his life than she should have been able to know. But now? His hand pulled her back searing dark marks of desire into her skin. Now, he wanted her.

"It don't have to matter," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"We don't have to keep hidin'. Maybe, we should just try the whole out-in-the-open thing."

"The out-in-the-open thing?" she rolled her eyes.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't actually. What do you mean, James?"

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with unleashed mischief; a second later he'd turned her to him and pushed her back against the side of the van, knocking the wind clean out of her.

She gasped, within seconds he had two, three, four buttons undone on her jumpsuit.

"You startin' to comprehend, doctor Burke?" he whispered into her ear as one of his hands disappeared down her jumpsuit. A shiver ran across her spine, and his lips curved against her throat; his slight kisses travelling upward, only momentarily halting to nip at her skin here, then there. This wasn't exactly the answer she'd been looking for, but as his lips found hers, his intentions read loud and clear. She responded without protest, not even wanting to resist, caught up in the lure of their game, she almost didn't hear…

"Ehum, ehum."

Her eyes flew open; the unmistakable cough of an accidental voyeur.

"James," she pushed at his shoulders, his grip tightened.

"James," she repeated.

He let out a low grunt but pulled back.

She coaxed her head in the direction of the sound; James half-turned, then a sly smile spread across his face and she mentally rolled her eyes. Of course, he would be excited about getting caught red-handed, he practically lived for the thrill of forbidden moments like these; out in the open, yet, far enough away from prying eyes.

"Goodmornin' Doctor Long," he said, his hands leisurely sliding out of her jumpsuit.

"Mr. LaFleur. Miss Carlson."

Juliet's cheeks flushed a brighter shade of red, but Long hardly seemed to notice. If anything, he looked rather blasé about the matter, as though he'd just taken a sip of a particularly bitter cup of coffee and had decided that nothing could possibly ruin his day more.

"What brings ya to this neck of the woods?"

"I was hoping to have a word with miss Carlson, here" Long said, studying the undone buttons on her jumpsuit with a raised eyebrow.

James inclined his head.

"Don't let me stop ya."

"In private," he added.

Juliet looked up in surprise; what could possibly be so important that it demanded her immediate attention? He could hardly be here about a van. Long did everything on foot; good for the lungs, he said. Suppose he didn't consider chain smoking his way through DHARMA meetings a tad more hazardous to his health than a sedentary lifestyle. Not for the first time since they'd arrived she'd marvelled at the general attitude of the 70s; 'the era of the wilfully ignorant and the blissfully blind', Miles had said at some point. He might be onto something there.

"You OK?" James asked, pulling her attention back to the present.

"Yeah," she nodded, finishing buttoning up her jumpsuit. "I'll finish up here; I'll see you tonight."

"OK, then," he shrugged, the subtle shift in his demeanour conveying that he was anything but OK with the abrupt brush off, but he would let it go for now.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Don't forget to bring the tacos."

"As long as you bring the game."

He laughed and winked.

"Count on it, Blondie."

With a knot in her stomach she watched him go. He'd soon realize that the stars in his eyes weren't truly meant for her. He longed for green emeralds, and lush brown curls. She knew; her name had slipped from his lips in his sleep on more than one occasion. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But neither time travel nor distance could make him want her. He had to come to that conclusion on his own. He might never, and that was OK too. It wasn't supposed to mean anything anyway.

She shook the thoughts from her head.

"What can I do for you, Doctor?"

"I'd rather we talk some place private. I do not usually discuss topics of a delicate nature out in the open like this."

"Delicate?"

Didn't he just clear her last week?

"Should I be worried?"

The way he stood there, chin up in full on doctor mode; it gave her pause. It was familiar. Too familiar. She used to approach women in the clinic in a similar manner. When their hopes of seeing two pink lines would be dashed by that disappointing singular one. 'I'm sorry; maybe, next time,' she'd say.

But Long wasn't a fertility doctor, and he certainty wouldn't be alluding to a next time of any sort, not after all he'd just been privy to.

"Let's go to my office, shall we?" his expression remained void of emotion and it did nothing to reassure her. She could almost hear James whisper in her ear: 'He'd make for a great Other. Stoic. Empty eyes. Soulless. Kinda like you in the beinning.'

She followed him across the square to the infirmary; inside Alice and Debra were seated behind long white desks. Fragments of excited conversation fluttered about the room, the air filled with an ease that she'd never quite associated with the infirmary before. She greeted them, and they responded in kind.

"Juliet," Long began, after he'd closed his office door behind her.

"Please, sit."

She almost laughed out loud; the irony of the situation crept through thick layers of unwritten pieces of paper and sticky post-it notes on yellow bare walls, this used to be her office. Or rather, it would be, 26 years from now. In her time, it looked more desolate, discolored paint peeling off the ceiling and walls, pieces of brown tape desperately trying to hold onto corners of hastily torn off leaflets. Here, right now, it looked freshly painted; no marks of wear or the inevitable sense of dread that would soon inhibit the place; it even smelled better.

"We found something in your blood that I think we should discuss."

"Oh?"

"How have you been feeling, lately?"

She shrugged.

"Just some headaches, but nothing so bad it'd be worth mentioning. Why?"

"You and LaFleur have you been seeing each other long?"

She narrowed her eyes at him; that was an odd question. What did that have to do with anything? And besides –

"I don't see how that's any of your business."

"Well, it becomes our business when you decide to procreate."

"Excuse me?"

"Procreate, it means –"

"I know what it means; I haven't a clue what you're talking about."

"The DHARMA Initiative has rules about pregnancies, Juliet. You have to submit the proper documents, and apply for absence of leave so that you can be thoroughly examined on the mainland before try outs start," he paused. "Unless you've decided to leave the island, of course. Obvously, you'd be free to do whatever you want, then."

"Try outs? What are you–?"

"There's no need to deny it; according to the data you provided last year you're not in the habit of regulating your menses, you've not been prescribed any type of birth control, and the Initiative has been denied requests to import male contraceptives. That only leaves us with one possible scenario. You planned for this to happen," he hesitated. "I'm a little surprised, though. Did you really think you could hide it from us? Surely, you must have known there'd come a time we'd find out."

She stared, her eyes all but rolling out of her skull.

"You're saying, I'm…?"

She shook her head. No, no, no.

"You're wrong,"

Something must have gone wrong with her blood test; a mix up, maybe. A false positive, surely. She grabbed the file from his desk and started flipping through it. The RFLP and SNP aligned perfectly with what she remembered from her med-school results. Her brows knit together. These were hers, but…

"It has to be a false positive."

"We're quite sure."

"I can't be pregnant."

"According to our–"

"You're not listening to me; I can't get pregnant."

Long frowned.

"You mean; you haven't been able to conceive until now?"

"No," was she really going to have to spell it out? Was he that dim?" I'm infertile."

It hurt to say; she'd never actually said it out loud before.

Long appeared confounded.

"You're infertile?"

"Yes, I – I– "

How could she ever explain that the adult version of the boy who currently lived three barracks down the road from her had been the cause of her infertility? How could she begin to explain that in 26 years' time he was going to lure her to the island, and lay claim to her as though she was his slave to keep: 'After everything I've done to get you here! After everything I've done to keep you here! How could you possibly not understand…that you're mine?!'

Ben had forced her hand, and after all this time the memories of that day continued to fester like big open wounds, growing more and more repulsive each day.

"There's this drug called Chlorhydelone. It's a trial drug," she began. "I took it a little over a year ago."

"Why?"

Why?

She watched little Benjamin Linus sometimes, from the window inside her barrack; the sight of him always ignited confusion. She hated him, but she also pitied him; a dichotomy of indecision forevermore debating with unrelenting thoughts, wracking havoc with her original proclamations.

He'd glanced up once, as though he'd sensed her eyes on him, and they'd stared at each other; this broken boy with his busted Harry Potter glasses complete with duck tape, minus scar, and the object of his future obsession, staring. She'd hastily stepped away, and pulled the shutters down with a force that vibrated through the entire house.

"I was told that it was safe," she lied. "But eventually, I learned that the effects of the drug had done irreparable damage to my reproductive organs."

Long shook his head.

"What was the trial for? Why didn't you mention this during your first medical exam?"

"I didn't think it worth mentioning."

"You didn't think infertility would be worth mentioning?" Long pinched the bridge of his nose, and leaned forward on his desk. "Juliet, don't get me wrong, this truly is quite a remarkable story. But you have to understand that from where I'm sitting, I'm having some trouble piecing together certain facts; why would you be involved in this? How did you get involved? Were there more people who were being tested on like you?"

"Evan," she put her arms on the desk, mirroring him. "I can't talk about the experiments, or who performed them," she lied. "And I didn't mention it, because–" she looked away, the painful reminder of what had happened in the weeks following her actions bubbled to the surface. It surprised her how much of that faded pain still felt so fresh.

"Because I couldn't."

Long regarded her with calculated suspicion over the rim of his aviator glasses. Then he sighed and pushed himself up from his chair.

"You should have been more forthcoming, Juliet. We could have run our own tests. This island–" he stopped.

"This island, what?" she repeated, knowing full well where he'd intended to go with that line of thought.

"Forget it," he waved the thought away with his hand. "The truth of the matter is that the tests we conduct here are very accurate. If what you're saying is true, then there's only one way to confirm it."

She nodded.

"I understand."

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              DHARMA Initiative: Infirmary, July 1975            

"This is going to be a little cold."

Debra applied the thick blue gel to her belly, squirting it out over her skin with flowery adolescent strokes. She shivered, her bellybutton's repurposed design looking oddly disturbing in all of its crooked glory. Debra laughed.

"First time?"

Juliet nodded, not quite sure how else to respond. She'd been through the motions countless times before: apply the gel, clearly express what the patient can expect, apply the proper amount of pressure to the probe, move it in the longitudinal plane across the belly–

"Longitudinal."

"Sorry?"

"You're holding it wrong."

Debra frowned.

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," she placed her fingers on top of the young nurse's hand. "Let me show you."

Debra started to protest, but Juliet was already moving the transducer down to her pubic bone. She applied a little more pressure, and slowly maneuvered the device upward.

"See?"

Almost instantly an image popped up on the monitor.

Debra turned her head, her frown deepened as she scratched her head with her other hand.

"How did you know?"

"Just simple logi–" She trailed; her eyes arrested by the image on the monitor, an unmistakable flutter catching her attention. It appeared at the bottom of the screen, a steady rhythm, corroborated by the rapid thumping that emanated from the monitor's speakers. A heartbeat.

Her hands flew to her mouth.

"Omph! Careful," Debra said.

It was small. So small. She'd almost missed it; the size of a raspberry, and because she knew where to look did she see the tiniest of hands shift ever so slightly into view, showing signs of life that could not possibly be thriving inside her body.

"Oh my–" she whispered.

Up until that moment she'd been so sure. There'd been no morning sickness; no sign or indication of any sort that her body was preparing itself for radical changes. For all intense and purposes the Chlorhydelone should have completely destroyed both of her fallopian tubes and uterus. She hadn't had her period in months, and yet here she was bearing witness to the impossible.

She moved closer to the screen; Debra shifted the probe into a different position to accommodate her better.

"It looks to be about–"

"63 days," Juliet whispered. "9 weeks."

"How–?"

"I just do," she swallowed hard; her breath catching in her throat.

"Well," Debra shrugged, and turned her attention back to the monitor. "It looks healthy. Strong."

"It does," she smiled, betrayed by the tremor in her hand as she reached for the screen. Still captivated by the image, the tightness in her chest continued to expand further and further, until soft drops of relief and sadness carved red roads of opportunity down her cheeks. "It really does."

There was so much that she wished she could say to the young nurse, yet there was so very little she could actually reveal. The DHARMA Initiative would never understand the true power of the island. How it healed the irreparable, cure the terminal, restore fertility. But also, how it could take all of that away in the blink of an eye. Over the years she'd learned how the island acted as some type of enabler, pulling strings on puppets through time and space per Jacob's request. And now, she appeared to be in the eye of its hurricane.

She abruptly pulled her shirt down; the image on the screen cut off.

"Wha–?!" Debra started.

"I have to go."

"We're not done, yet!"

"I can't stay."

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A/N: I am sooo excited to be sharing parts of this story with you guys already! If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to drop a line. It's going to be quite a ride. I don't even know how long this story is going to be, but it took me about a month to work out all of the details. I know how it ends! Just don't know how long it will take for me to get there! It will definitely be a Suliet story, but MANY of the other characters will also appear in this story, along with some original characters, like Danny! For every subsequent chapter and section I'll insert a place and time, because if I don't do that it will turn into a mess very quickly. So, I recommend that before you start reading each section you take note of where all of the characters in the story are and at what time!

Other than that, I hope you guys enjoyed this first chapter! And if you got this far, thank you so much for reading!

[ff15trashgoldenslumbers]

just found your blog and i spent all night going through all the posts. this is a QUALITY blog my friend! would you please have the chocobros S/O getting in an argument with them,and being unable to speak to them for a month since they left on a mission. on the last day when their supposed to be back, the S/O set up a romantic dinner as an apology, but by 3 am their still not back and they go to bed crying. Wake up the next morning being spooned to death. (its a lot i know but im a sad snowflake

There shall be no sad snowflakes on my watch! NONE!!! Only happy ones!  Also guys make sure to sleep! I love sleep as much, maybe even more, than Noctis does, rest. Lol

~~~

You smiled as you sat the plates on the table for tonight’s dinner. You sweethearts favorite and it actually looked and smelled delicious, a soft hum coming from your chest. Before you darling left, you both had a horrible fight, one that left you so angry you didn’t even sleep in your shared bed the first week he was gone.

After week two you finally moved back into your bedroom and cuddles his pillow something fierce, missing him. Often spending hours draped in his clothing or wearing something of his out. You wished so bad that you would be able to text or call him to apologize but he was gone on a mission and cellphone use was rather difficult to use. So you had to wait, and give him the proper apology when he returned home.

At 6:48pm you set the plates on the table waiting for him to come home, give him a big kiss and show him the nice little dress you purchased just for him, that you hoped would be on the floor by the end of the evening.

At 9:12pm dinner sat on the table untouched, and your phone rested in your hand awaiting a text, he should have been home 3 hours ago.

At midnight, you put out the candles on the table and the wine back into the fridge. The ice in the wine bucket melt hours ago.

At 2:56am, you phone finally died, so you sat at the table in the dark, your mind racing with the horrid last conversation you had. You didn’t even tell him that you loved him when he left, or give him his goodbye kiss.  Maybe this was it, you no longer had him.

At 3:03am, your dress was on the floor not in the way you wished, one of his t-shirts covering your body. You clung tightly to his pillow as you let your tears fall until you finally fell asleep.

~~~~~

Noctis

When the Prince stepped into the apartment, he had flowers at the ready. Have talked it over with Ignis, and the man suggests that the two of you sit down and talk it over. Only for the man to stop and stare at the kitchen table and seeing the two plates waiting there, neither touched and long cold.

The prince moved through the apartment, it was already 7am, you would have more than likely already gotten up to get ready for the day. Or maybe you left…

He panicked, tearing through the apartment, only to come to the bedroom, and finding you in the middle of the bed holding tightly to his pillow and wearing his t-shirt. He nearly tripped over the dress on the floor as he began to undress before crawling into bed and holding you impossibly close.

“I’m sorry.”  He whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You wheezed as you felt something laying directly on your chest, you hardly ever slept on your back, and this extra weight made it feel like you had a courel on your chest. You moaned weakly, opening your eyes only to be greeted by spikes of navy in your mouth and nose.

“Noct…”

You were greeted by a huff.

“Noct, sweetie.”

A nuzzle to your shoulder and a tighter hold.

“Noct let me roll over.”

You were given a small window, but in that window, you managed to roll and cuddle the man, so that he nuzzled comfortably within your chest. Your arms wrapped tightly around the man.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered pressing a kiss to his forehead, pleased to have him in your arms again.

~~~~~

Prompto

He was so sleepy, but still, he dragged in that cute little Moogle doll he found dressed as a Chocobo, Prompto seriously made Ignis do a U-turn so he could pick it up.

It was rare that either of you got into a fight, this actually being the third one the two of you had since you started dating since high school. He was so upset that he couldn’t reach out to the entire time they were gone and apologize. He honestly felt tears start to fall when he saw dinner waiting for him, and your untouched plate beside it.

He quickly rushed into the bedroom, finding you in the bed, holding tightly to one of the large stuffed animals you both owned. Pulling the plush from your arms, he replaced it quickly, fully dressed in his travel attire, littering your face with kisses as he held you close.

You huffed and snorted, pulling back as you felt the assault only to be greeted by the tear-stained face of your boyfriend. “Pompom?”

“I…i’m sorry.”

You reached up wiping his tears away, only for them to start falling from your eyes, “I’m sorry too.”

The two of you smiled weakly, as you clung tightly to each other, pressing lazy kisses to each other before falling back asleep.

~~~~~

Gladiolus

“Babe?” Gladiolus called as he entered the house at 5am, you’d normally be getting up to go jogging. “Babe?” He called again, did you already leave?

He stopped looking into the kitchen, only to find your plates on the table. You wouldn’t leave the house like this while going out. “Babe, Y/N? You here?”

As he moved through the house, the man slowly removed his clothes, he would need a shower. Moving into the bedroom to get something else to wear to bed he stopped finding you curled up on his side of the bed, laying on his pillow much how you would the man should you both share the bed.

As he moved over to the bed, he noticed the slight wheeze you’d give when your nose was stuffy and mascara running down your face.

“Babe…”

He felt so heartbroken that he let you go to bed crying for more than a month, and you made him a large meal and he didn’t even show up. You were absolute perfection and look at what he did. He went to move you into his arms, only to stop, he really, really needed that shower before he could touch you.

Five minutes! It took him five minutes to wash and dry, his hair still wet and he may not have dried all the way off, and he’d deal with a shirt later, he needs you in his arms now! As softly as possible, he managed to clean your face, and adjust you to his chest.

“I love you so much.” He whispered a kiss to the top of your head.

“Gladdy.”

He maneuvered slightly only to find you still asleep.

You huffed, snorting yourself awake, only to notice the heavy weight around your waist and squeezing. You reached out tapping at Gladiolus pecs, tapping out, only to have the arms release you as you panted softly.

“Sorry babe.”

You smiled giving him a loving pet from where you had to tap out from his aggressive cuddles, “Welcome home.”

Gladiolus hummed, dragging you up to kiss you, “So I saw that little number on the floor.”

“Yeah, guess you’ll have to take me out so that you can rip it off me, big guy.” You purred as he moved to your shoulders, exposed underneath one of his tanks.

“Tonight then, because all day, we’re not leaving this room.” He smirked as he heard you moan softly.

Apology accepted.

~~~~~

Ignis

Ignis was the last one home, he had some last minute items to handle at the Citadel. Plus he wanted to find something for you, he hadn’t gotten a chance to apologize before he left, so by the time he returned home, the sun had begun to peak above the horizon. He expected for you to be long asleep.

As he moved into the kitchen to put the food he would use to spoil you tonight, he stopped to see your body at the kitchen table, head resting on your arms, one of his old button ups on your body, two plates covered with a cloche.

“Oh, my love.” Ignis crooned as he placed down the groceries in the fridge before moving over to you. Moving your chair back, as he leaned forward pulling you into his arms, cradling you close as he pressed a kiss to your temple, making his way to the bedroom, stopping as he looked to the beautiful dress on the bed, nicely pressed and waiting to be put on.

He maneuvered you to one arm, holding you impossibly close out of fear of dropping you as well, as he picked up the dress, hanging it on the back of the door, before moving you to the bed, only for you to awaken.

“Iggy?” You muttered weakly.

“Hello, My love.” He smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Iggy.” You cooed reaching up to hold him close, pulling him into a hug.

“Allow me just a moment to undress.”

You gave a playful whine, but released the man with a kiss, as you settled into bed. Only to be pulled into his embrace the moment he reached the bed, your eyes closing, as pressed another kiss to your forehead.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

[hellomissmabel]

“Hello future husband”

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x plus size!reader

Warnings: Mentions of sexy times (really briefly) and major fluff! Also, Steve x Sharon Carter, if that’s a warning for you.

Word count: 2.670

Summary: Sharon is getting married to Steve, Y/N’s ex boss and also ex crush, and has asked her childhood best friend Y/N to be one of her bridesmaids. This could lead to some pretty awkward situations, but Y/N is determined to get it over with. Who knows? Maybe she’ll meet someone new? 

A/N: This is the first one-shot with a plus size reader. There will be more plus size!reader one-shots and if you want on their tag list, please let me know by sending me an ask or leaving a comment on the announcement post for said one-shot.

This one is dedicated to @im-buckybarnes

All plus size fics can be found here

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Y/N,” your best friend Wanda had uttered as you tried on your bridesmaid dress. She’s fidgety and nervous as she brings the subject up again. “You know, given your history with Steve…”

You roll your eyes at her as you turn around, facing the mirror and admiring the smooth, white tulle. You had to give it to Sharon, she had impeccable taste. At first you were anxious that her bridesmaid dresses of choice would be too tight, given you aren’t a size two like her and the others girls. But Sharon loves your curves and as she made the final call on the dresses, she opted for an off-white top with half long sleeves and a tulle skirt to match.

“Wanda,” you whine softly at her comments, running your hands down the skirt in awe. It truly did your full-figured form justice. “Sharon and I go way back. She knows I used to work for Steve before I started on my own.”

“But does she know you used to date?,” Wanda asks casually as she twirls around in her chair, sucking on a cherry lollipop and kinking a knowing eyebrow.

“We didn’t date, Wanda,” you sigh dramatically, telling the lady of the store that you like the dress and disappear into the changing room. “I’m sure she heard the rumours!,” you shout from behind the curtain. “We kissed and fooled around. I mean, we had a good thing going on but we were never really an item. Yet I’m sure a lot of people spread nasty rumours about it behind our back.”

“You know,” Wanda says in a sing-songy voice once you emerge from the changing rooms and hand over the dress to the store assistant. “You never told me why you broke it off.”

You shoot her a confused look, thanking the lady. “I did tell you, Wanda. You were the first that heard about it.”

“You said that if you stayed on as Steve’s associate at his firm, that would’ve meant the end of your career,” she continues as she both exit the store. “You said you still wanted to grow, professionally and personally, and that the only way to make that come true was to start on your own. But you never, never explicitly said that’s why you broke it off with poor Stevie.”

“Okay,” you eventually relent after successfully hailing a cab and telling him the address to your shared apartment. “Maybe I didn’t tell you the whole story.”

Wanda mutters a victorious “I thought so” under her breath, squeezing your knee encouragingly. “So is it because of another man?,” she inquires curiously. “Is it that Sam guy you met when we went clubbing for my birthday? Or is it that Tony guy we ran into at Macy’s?”

“God no! I’m not a cheater, Wanda,” you immediately react, playfully slapping her and away. “Another woman is more like it!”

“ANOTHER WOMAN!,” Wanda exclaims so loudly the cab driver stares angrily at her from the rear-view mirror.

“One of the biggest clients Steve ever acquired, Natasha Romanoff, switched sides and left Steve’s firm to become my client. That woman has had more husbands than manicures.”

Wanda giggles at the top of her voice and the driver asks her to take it down a notch. “Anyway, It was her own decision. I had nothing to do with it, but Steve couldn’t get over it. He was so bitter over the entire thing that I had to walk on eggshells every time our paths crossed. That’s what happens when you swim in the same waters, I guess…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Wanda offers sincerely, paying the cab driver and leaving a generous tip once you’ve arrived at your place.

“It’s okay, love,” you tell her honestly, walking up the stairs to the brownstone as she fishes out the key to the front door.

“Still, it must be so weird for you to see your childhood best friend marry your ex and former boss.”

“It’s definitely weird,” you admit softly, dropping your bag off before taking a seat at the kitchen table. Wanda takes a seat next to you, smiling sadly. “But he isn’t really my ex and I’m happy for them. I truly am. And let’s not forget it was me who introduced Sharon to Steve at that legal convention.”

Getting up from your seat, you know her worried eyes are following you, burning into your back as you go to boil some hot water for tea. “If Steve and I ever officially got together, the competition would’ve teared our relationship apart eventually.”

Wanda nods her head gently. “You’re sure you don’t need me to come too? As your plus one?”

“It’s been 2 years since I left. So yeah, I’ll be fine.”

The ceremony was brief but heartfelt. Sharon was wearing a sober white halter dress with a short veil, adorned with delicate white flowers. Steve was just as you remember him, dressed to the nines, as you knew he would be, in a dark blue tuxedo. They had also chosen to write their own vows. Even though your eyes often wandered back to Steve, you kept them firmly trained on Sharon for most of the time.

The wedding reception was another thing entirely. Sharon said she wanted to have an intimate wedding yet the number of guests attending the ceremony was anything but humble. You were drowning in a pool of bodies and an ocean of fabric, trying to find your assigned seat. After some searching and bumping into many unfamiliar faces, you could finally track down the wedding planner, Peggy, conveniently also Sharon’s niece.

“Let me see…,” she hums impatiently as she scans the list of tables and seats until she finds your name. “You’re sitting at the table next to the ice sculpture.”

“But all the other bridesmaids are sitting over at the chocolate fountain,” you tell Peggy, slightly confused.

Your request annoys her a little yet she goes over the names a second time, confirming her initial statement with a quick nod. “All the other bridesmaids brought their boyfriends or husbands with them. You’re the only one without a plus one. So you’re seated next to the best man, Bucky Barnes. He also didn’t bring a date.”

The name rings a bell and you half recall crossing your gaze with Steve’s best man, but you can’t quite put a face to the name just yet. “O-okay,” you stutter insecurely, earning a tired smile from Peggy who quickly sends you on your way.

The ice sculpture isn’t hard to find, located the closest to the main table where the family of the bride and groom are seated. They’re about to serve the first course, so you’ll have to hurry up. Some guests glare daggers at you as you try to wiggle past them, even though you politely ask them to move their seats up a little bit so you can swiftly move through. You’re used to it by now, the judgement some skinny people have towards men and women who don’t conform to “normal” beauty standards. You used to struggle with this for a very long time before you realised you’re better than that. Now it doesn’t affect you as much anymore, confident in your own skin and successful job.

When your table finally reaches your line of sight, the relief is unmatched, especially when you see that most of the other guests are still happily chatting away with other attendees from adjourning tables, champagne glass in hand. They haven’t even noticed there’s still one person missing, everyone except for the handsome brunet next to your empty seat.

When your eyes lock, the wind is instantly knocked from your lungs. He was looking a little sad at first, engaged in a dull conversation with the overzealous maid of honour about Sharon’s choice of flower arrangements. Yet his blues vanish into thin air the very moment your flustered cheeks reach his gaze. Licking his lips, a cocky grin tugs the corners of his lips upwards, your knees weakening at the sight of such a devilishly handsome face. His sharp cheekbones alone are enough to get you gasping for air.

Even before you have reached your final destination, he gets up from his seat and pulls back your chair, that smug expression ever-present. You thank him kindly for the gesture, remaining in a standstill for a few more seconds, astonished by his this cherub of a man. “Hello future husband,” you think to yourself as you take in his sparkling blue eyes, touches of grey glistening like the bubbles of champagne all the guests are so royally consuming.

It isn’t until he replies that you realise you didn’t just think that, but also said those exact words aloud. “Well, hello there future wife,” he chuckles confidently before sitting back down next to you. “The name’s Bucky Barnes. And what should I call this beautiful dame?”

You look away first, then bury your face in your hands. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, doll,” he assures you softly, pushing your glass of champagne towards you. “Take a sip, love. It helps, trust me.”

You peer at him through your fingers, his tender smile coaxing you from behind their shelter. The glass is way too small for your liking as you drink the liquid all at once, taming your embarrassment. “My name is Y/N,” you smile sheepishly at his open mouth.

“Well, Y/N,” he muses in an amused tone, “Bride or groom?”

“Both,” you admit shyly, “Sharon and I grew up together and I used to work with Steve.”

“You’re a the Y/N Y/L/N,” he exclaims all of a sudden and you groan at his enthusiasm. “The divorce mediator that used to shag dear ol’ Steve.” He leans back in his chair, pupils blown in amazement. “It’s a shame Steve never got to introduce us. I spent a long time abroad.” Carding his fingers through his hair, he exhales gently as he looks deep into your eyes. “I’m a divorce lawyer, too.”

“I’m a mediator, there’s a big difference there. You have a degree in law, I have a degree in psychology and law.”

Swirling the crystal glass between your fingertips, you avert your eyes from his curious gaze. Maybe you were wrong about him, maybe he believes the rumours just like everyone else.

“And apparently I’m also the only single friend. I wonder why that is,” you laugh softly, the sound bittersweet.

“Hey now,” he instantly shifts forward in his seat, taking one of your hands in his while the other caresses your cheek, brushing away a stray wisp of hair curled for the occasion. “You are stunning, doll, and I’m so freaking lucky you’re single and that I ended up seated next to you.”

“Peggy might’ve mentioned something similar, too,” you whisper to yourself so Bucky doesn’t hear, a little smile gracing your lips. Squeezing your hand one last time, he lets go so the waiter can present you the first course. You smile gratefully at Bucky, your spirits lifted high by his considerate reaction. You can see it in his eyes that he means every single word.

Dinner is spent in joyous chatter, Bucky visibly rejuvenated by your presence and how much you have in common. You barely speak to anyone else during the entire service, the best man absorbing all of your attention so effortlessly that you hang on every word that falls from his lips. When the time has arrived for the first dance, his loving fingertips find their way to your knee under the table cloth. It isn’t until “Yours” by Ella Henderson starts to play and Sharon and Steve weave their hands together in perfect unison, that you understand Bucky’s sign of affection.

“You don’t have to look, doll,” Bucky whispers gingerly into your ear.

Silently appreciating the elegance of the scene taking place in front of you, you rest your hand on Bucky’s. “It’s okay, Bucky. I love this song.”

He graces you with an understanding smile, placing his other hand over yours so both his hands now share their warmth with you. It helps you through the first dance and as soon as Sharon and Steve clear the dancefloor for the other guests, he pulls you with him straightaway. Bucky twirls you around, shows off his dance moves and more importantly, makes you laugh and feel loved.

He pulls you close when the DJ switches things up and plays a slow song again, his lips caress the shell of your ear as he speaks. “You are the most enchanting creature I’ve ever had the pleasure of getting to know.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whisper in return as he presses his cheek to yours, chuckling happily and smiling like a complete dork.

A spirited cough resounds from behind you and reluctantly you detangle yourself from Bucky, who takes a step back once he sees who it is. “I was hoping to have a quick chat with you. It won’t take long.”

Steve straightens his back, knowing his interruption is unwelcome. But Bucky doesn’t seem to mind, so you nod and let him take over. As the music plays out, you sway and shuffle to the final notes. “I see you and Bucky are having a lot of fun,” he notes with a soft chuckle. “I’m glad you could make it, Y/N.”

“I’m glad, too,” you say as you lay your head to rest on his shoulder. “You and Sharon make a great couple. I still wonder why you didn’t tie the knot as soon as I introduced you two.”

Hearty laughter rumbles through his chest and he presses one last, chaste kiss to your temple. “Y/N… About Bucky, he’s a great guy. He won’t hurt you like I did. I’m so sorry, love. You deserved better.”

“Steve…” You try to tell him he shouldn’t say things like that but he has already joined Sharon’s side again, his absence soon replaced by Bucky who picks up where you left off, swirling you into his arms.

“That’s not my favourite look on you, doll,” Bucky hums in a flirty voice, noticing you’re a little thrown off guard by Steve’s sudden revelation. “Why don’t you smile for me, hm?”

With a girly giggle, you push away all thoughts of Steve and replace them with happy thoughts about Bucky. “Better?,” you smirk at him as you peck his cheek and he turns all red.

“Sweetheart,” he coos seductively, flashing you a toothy grin. “I don’t mean to be too forward, but can I take you home tonight? I’m not asking you to sleep with me or anything,” he adds quickly, sensing your reluctance, “I just want to make sure you get home safely and maybe, just maybe, you’ll give me your number as a thank you?”

Now it’s your to hum in amusement. “Maybe I’ll give you more than just my number as a thank you,” you tease him playfully.

“A date?,” he pipes up hopefully, boyish laughter escaping his lips.

“Yes. But only if you take me home safely,” you promise with a wink.

Bucky tightens his grip around your waist, pulling you flush to his chest. “Well, well, future wife, I think we have a deal here.”

“Well, well,” you nudge his nose with yours, his lips hovering over yours, “future husband. I think we do.”

“Perfect,” he mumbles to yours lips, “You’re fucking perfect,” kissing you slowly on the lips. “Did I already mention that I love curvy girls?”

“You might’ve, I don’t remember clearly,” you play coy, “But it doesn’t hurt to say it again.”

Bucky repeatedly pecks your lips, both of you smiling brightly into the soft kisses, before offering you his hand, which you gladly take. You quickly escape the wedding crowd, kicking your heels off as soon as you get into his car, ready for a hot ‘n heavy make-out session at the backseat of his car.

Tagging: @avengerofyourheart @a-little-hell-to-raise @marvelingatthewonder @mrshopkirk @hardcorehippos @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @italwaysendsinafightt @viollettes @hymnofthevalkyrie @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @austinamelio @volklana @4theluvofall @themcuhasruinedme @theoneandonlysaucymo @caplanbuckybarnes @nenyakj @amrita31199 @emilyevanston @minervaem @howlingbarnes @buchananbarnestrash @youandb @you-and-bucky @fvckingsteverogers @thatawkwardtinyperson @that-sokovian-bastard @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @barnes-heaven @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @mellifluous-melodramas @its-not-a-phase-hux @melconnor2007 @ivvitm1109 @toofuckinfabulous @ailynalonso15 @jurassicbarnes @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @camigt1999 @learisa @curlyexpat @palaiasaurus64 @fanndas-snow-goddess @crisssivonne @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @supernaturaldean67 @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @aletheladyinred @winterssmiles @xbergiex @reniescarlett @promarvelfangirl

Hello future husband tag list:

@psingh97 @pineapplebooboo @albinoatthedisco @magnolia-wanders @whatisaheroanyway @dinorapreira @alexandragoestothemovies @lostinspace33 @bluebrrn @imsupernaturalbaby @anitavalija @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @friendlyneighborhoodnazgul @kiwi71281 @feistytravel @modvinnie @rcarbo1 @cami23593 @captainamylouise @kudosia @rhyatt-deauxtreve @kirakombat @lumelgy @pleasantdreamqueen @suz-123 @pegasusdragontiger @saysay125 @yknott81 @jesspfly @marvel-at-bucky @blue1928

@garnetandlace @ilovebeingjoyful @50shadesofyes @rebelslicious @iamwarrenspeace @wildestdreamsrps @mizzzpink @fuckingchaotic @rrwilson66 @alexaduke @debzybrazy @glitterintheairblog @princess76179 @ilovebeingjoyful @thequeenofthehobbits @rda1989 @svenyves @thefandomimagines @perrychastain @cokamarie24 @kyleannsmut @giorgiagrl1990 @breezy1415 @buckyappreciationsociety @the-witching-hours12-3 @crazyjam-pot

Strikethrough means tumblr won’t let me tag you!

[panticwritten]

Pearl-Handled Shotgun: Chapter One

Yeah. I have no posting schedule for this haha. We’ll just see how it goes.

Prologue

Word count: 2978

TW:

Emotional warfare (of the controlling parent kind)

Hardcore dissociation

Reference to police brutality

Alyssa

“You’re lucky we could keep it out of the newspapers.”

Alyssa doesn’t look at her father, drumming her nails against the arm of the chair. Her mom watches from a chair behind him, her disapproval clear in the curve of her brow, the thin line of her mouth. The teen turns her head so she doesn’t have to see either of them.

“That man could have pressed charges. Do you think he would have gone after your little friends?” She bristles at the sneer in his voice, but she keeps her mouth shut. “You have a promising future ahead of you, I won’t stand by and watch you throw that away.”

She nods idly, the bare minimum of what he wants from her.

“I don’t know where this is coming from, your lashing out. Your brother never did anything like this.”

Ah, there it is. Calim, the perfect son. The good one. The easy one.

“He just never got caught,” she mutters.

“What was that?”

She looks up, at the familiar anger in her father’s eyes. He cocks an eyebrow up, expectant. She sighs and shakes her head. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

He stares at her, his gaze hard, before returning to pacing to and fro in front of the fireplace. “What else have you been doing behind our backs? It isn’t safe, and it certainly isn’t acceptable.”

“Last night was an accident,” Alyssa says before she can hold the words back. “We took a wrong turn.”

He stills, burning eyes back on her. “You shouldn’t have been out at all last night!”

“I already apologized for that.”

“You can’t really think a petty ‘sorry’ will make up for breaking our trust? For sneaking out, so you could—what? Run around the city with a group of delinquents?”

She straightens up, scrabbling to hold onto her unruffled air. “Delinquents?”

“They’re a bad influence.”

“They are not!” Shoulders squared, Alyssa’s practiced placidity ruptures at his ‘holier than thou’ stance. “Stephanie and Jared are good friends, and they don’t treat me like a glass doll or a- a- a piece of advertising!”

“Alyssa, dear, please don’t yell,” her mom warns, her voice soft. It diffuses the immediate tension in the air. Her father says nothing. The coolness in his eyes, however, tells her the damage has already been done. Alyssa clears her throat and continues with more restraint.

“I apologize, sincerely, for what happened. I should have been honest with you.” She pauses, heartened when her father jerks his head in a nod. “It wasn’t the first time I left without permission, and it was unfair of me keep you in the dark.”

“How many times?”

“What?”

“How many times have you snuck out?” he asks. His deceptively level voice spreads anxiety through her chest, thick and sticky in her throat. She swallows it down and makes a mental tally.

“Twelve?” She offers. It’s not counting the days she used shopping trips as cover for driving the roads on the eastern edges of Portland with her friends, but she doesn’t tell him that.

He considers this thoughtfully, as if deciding whether he’ll have honey or jam on his toast. Alyssa sees it in his eyes when he comes to a conclusion, one fist coming down on his open palm.

“Then we’ll discuss this again in twelve weeks.”

Her heart constricts in her chest, driving her to her feet. She manages to keep her mouth shut, but that’s not enough. It’s never enough. He raises a brow, unimpressed, and starts for the family room door.

“You won’t leave the manor unattended until then. You have ten minutes to tell your friends before I collect your devices.” He pauses at the door, looking back with a painfully detached expression. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she says automatically, unable to suppress the reflex.

The door closes behind him, with hardly a whisper. She stares unseeing at the polished surface, almost wishing he had slammed it. She lowers herself back into the chair, wiping the back of a hand over her eyes before the pinch behind them can turn into tears.

If he can keep ahold of his temper, so can she.

“It could have been worse.” Alyssa jolts violently when her mom speaks. She had almost forgotten she was here.

“I know.” She doesn’t look over, dragging her phone out of her pocket. Steph and Jared will lose their minds if she just disappears for three months, especially after her father left them in jail for the night.

“You could have been killed,” she continues, voice low. Alyssa freezes, her fingers hovering over the screen. “ Just because we are who we are doesn’t mean it’s safe to get into trouble. An officer won’t think twice before they pull that trigger.”

Alyssa nods, looking up. Without her father here as a distraction, she now sees what she didn’t before in her mom’s furrowed brow, pressed lips. Fear, not disappointment. Regret pangs in her chest. “I know, mom. I swear we weren’t trying to do anything illegal.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She rises from her chair, full of grace as always, and offers her daughter a strained smile. “You need to be careful. Smarter. I’ll try to talk your father down, but I do agree that you need time to think about what happened last night.”

She nods again, and her mom starts for the door.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

She doesn’t answer, closing the door silently behind her. Alyssa sighs, sinking deeper into the back of the chair, and pulls up a group chat.

A<-- Hey.

A<-- I am SO sorry about my father, I can’t believe he just left you there.

A<-- I hope you both are okay. At the very least, that you’re home safe.

A<-- I can’t leave the house on my own for a few months, and he’ll be back for my phone any minute now.

She watches the screen with bated breath. After a moment, both of their icons appear beside the messages. Before she can register her relief, Steph responds.

S--> hey!

S--> i was starting to rly worry

S--> mom picked us up right after u left

A<-- Oh, thank god.

J--> a few months

J--> what the hell

J--> my dad took my keys but like

J--> just for a two weeks

S--> im grounded for a month :(

A<-- We’ve talked about my parents before. Are you really surprised?

J--> nah i guess not

J--> but thats hella rough

J--> someone needs to take some parenting classes

S--> im sorry aly

J--> how to be a good dad and not alienate your children or whatever

J--> oh shit yeah we kinda did get you in trouble huh

A<-- It’s not your fault. My mom said she’ll try to change his mind, but I doubt that will do much good.

A<-- Besides, you both got in trouble, too. It’s as much my fault as it is yours.

J--> no man dont say that

J--> youd never been camping thats a fucking crime

J--> i mean shooting at teenagers for pitching a damn tent should be a crime but thats a whole other thing

S--> jj

S--> not funny

A<-- He’s right, though.

J--> hell yeah drinking down this validation

J--> glug glug motherfucker

S--> stop

S--> ur ok tho?

S--> like should we worry?

Her phone slips through her fingers, pulled away by nimble hands, before she can answer. She hadn’t noticed her father come back in, and he leaves again without otherwise acknowledging her. She watches him go without a word.

Arguing more would make it worse. She’s lucky to have gotten ten minutes.

Now that she’s alone with nothing to do, she hefts herself upright. She stares at the embers glowing in the fireplace, considering what to do for the rest of the day. She has schoolwork due on Monday. She needs to decide within the month between Oxford—her father’s alma mater—or the local university her friends already enrolled in.

PSU sounds more fun. She wouldn’t like to think of the repercussions that may come out of that decision, though. Her parents don’t even know she applied.

She shakes her head and strides out of the room. Her feet take her along the familiar path upstairs to her study while she broods about three months without the promise of a night out on the town or a day flying along back roads in Jared’s convertible. By the time the bars are lifted, she’ll have graduated.

And she’ll have a month with them before her inevitable shipment off to Oxford.

She slams the door much harder than intended at the thought. She’s visited the campus a few times, walked through the city, and something about it leaves her uneasy. It’s beautiful, certainly, but it feels wrong.

She leans back against the door with a sigh, peering at the stack of books on her desk. The last thing she needs is for her grades to slip. She’s on thin ice as it is.

Her gaze drifts to the shelves lining the back of the room. They hold the books she’s sequestered from the library, or those that have been gifted to her.

She crosses to the closest shelf, running a finger along the books’ spines. Many of them, she still hasn’t read. She hasn’t had time to read since her parents began taking her to functions and benefits.

She dips a finger over the lip of the first in a series of old tomes wrapped in leather, one of her mom’s gifts to her this past Christmas, and drags it out. The first seems more weathered than the rest, the cover dull and rough rather than polished. She skimmed the first few pages when she first got the books, and she know there must have been effort put into it. The whole series is handwritten.

It’s as good as anything else.

She takes the book to her desk, promising herself that she’ll only read for a while. She has to get some work done before dinner, after all.

*****

“Alyssa? Are you in there?”

Alyssa jumps at the crackle of the intercom, heart racing and unseeing eyes leaving the yellowed pages of the book. It takes a few seconds to orient herself, remembering where she is. When she does, she recoils at the headache pounding behind her eyes, the roiling tension in her stomach.

She glances back down at the book to find it open near the middle. She can’t remember reading more than the first few pages—it was written as a personal diary of a slave girl named Brietta. She wrote in a neat script about mundane chores and city life, but she can’t remember the details of the anecdotes. She closes her eyes to try and remember.

Her stomach turns over when she catches a wisp of it, but it doesn’t stay long enough for her to grasp the memory itself.

“Alyssa!”

She jolts again, her eyes flying open. She rushes from her seat to the intercom and presses the flashing button for the dining room.

“Yes, mom, I’m here. What is it?”

“Come down for dinner, dear. I hope you haven’t been working too hard.”

She hesitates before answering, looking back to the book. It must have been hours since she holed myself up in there. She doesn’t remember any of it. She shakes her head and taps the button again.

“I’m fine. I’ll be down in a minute.”

She returns to the desk, ignoring her mother’s confirmation, and turns back to the first couple pages of the book. She finds the mention of ‘afternoons near the cold river after tending to mother’s sickness,’ jams one of many bookmarks upon the desk between the pages, and snaps the book shut.

She leaves it on the desk for later investigation, hurrying out to join her family in the dining room. Maybe some food will ease her lingering nausea.

By the time she enters the dining room on the ground floor, both of her parents are already perched in their seats at the far end of the table. Her mom greets her with a warm smile, her father with a nod from the end chair.

She apologizes for being late and takes a seat across from her mom. The air lays heavy upon the room, increasing the pressure behind her eyes. Even the light viola drifting from the wall speakers can’t break the tension growing with each overdone slice of a knife her father grinds on his plate through the steak.

She struggles to keep from screwing her eyes shut against it, forcing her hands into measured strokes. One bite at a time, then this will be over.

“So.”

It’s her mom that breaks the silence. All sounds of eating pause for only a moment, the rhythm of the meal changing, before continuing as though it never stopped.

“It’s gotten warm awfully fast this year, hasn’t it? Just last week it was freezing.”

“And now we’re in the upper seventies,” her father agrees.

Alyssa manages hold back a physical sigh of relief, bringing a stalk of asparagus to her lips. Her parents chat about the weather, and she keeps her head down—metaphorically speaking.

“How was your afternoon, Alyssa?” her mom asks, bright eyes on her. She lowers a slice of steak back to her plate and clears her throat with a brief glance at her father.

“Uneventful. How was yours, mother?”

She inclines her head, a conspiratorial smile playing on her lips. “Absolutely boring. My husband and daughter were hidden away in their studies all day.”

She laughs before Alyssa can feel guilty. She reaches across the table and brushes her fingers over the back of Alyssa’s hand, forgiveness promised in her eyes.

“Hidden away?” her father remarks. His words flow warmly, a rare grin directed at his wife. “My door is always open to you, Carmen.”

“And watch you approve paperwork all day? No thank you, sir!”

Alyssa can’t help but smile at the exchange.

“And you? You were upstairs for quite a while.”

The sharp change in her father’s tone straightens her spine, and her my expression morphs back into one of bland interest as she turns to meet his eyes. The sudden movement jolts her headache, and she isn’t able to hide all of her wince behind her clenched jaw.

“I was catching up on some reading for class,” she lies smoothly.

“I see.” He nods and leans forward in his chair. “You don’t look well.”

She hesitates, unwilling to admit the truth. She can’t imagine her father’s reaction to her losing several hours of time would be good, so she waits for the jammed cogs in her brain to churn out a suitable response.

“It’s just a headache,” she promises after a long pause, ignoring the way her stomach somersaults as she speaks. “Eye-strain, maybe. I was reading for several hours.”

“You shouldn’t work so hard.” Her mom’s serene interjection prompts her father to return his attention to his plate.

“I lost track of time.” Alyssa offers her a smile. She mirrors it, then turns back to her husband to discuss their upcoming trip to the capital.

Alyssa wastes no more time clearing her plate and asking to be excused. Her mom tells her to take an ibuprofen from her purse in the front hall, which she does on her way back upstairs.

Back on the third floor, she pauses at the door to her study. Just a few steps down the hall, her bedroom waits. Her bed waits, and the pounding behind her eyes feels like reason enough to take an early night.

With a sigh, still, she jerk the door open. She left the lights on, and the glare shining from the glossy cover of a textbook almost turns her back around. She stubbornly crosses the room and takes a seat at her desk.

The leather book waits for her, and she nearly flips it back open on impulse. She glances over at the stack of texts to her right, the slip of paper poking out of the first with a list of tasks.

She lifts the book, the rough cover feeling familiar under her fingertips. The cover doesn’t bear a title or an author, just the letters B.O.F. embossed across the front. She runs a finger over the initials, then the edge of the cover.

The trailing string on the bookmark knocks a pen from the desk, and she straightens up. Within moments, the book is hidden away in the desk drawer. She can read it later, when she’s gotten some work done.

Her work is much harder to get through than she may have hoped. Her headache slowly fades, but she can’t concentrate. Her thoughts keep circling back to Oxford, her friends, and the look on her mother’s face when they spoke in the family room.

That woman has been through enough.

She drops her pen on the desk and groans, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. She’s been reading the same line over and over for the past—she can’t even see how long it’s been because she doesn’t have her phone!

You don’t need to know the time when you’re working. You’re done when the work is done.

She shakes her head in her hands, banishing her father’s words into the ether. He’s taken enough energy from her today.

It’s not fair.

She rises from the chair, every movement sticky and slow. Flicking the desk lamp off, she pads to the door, covering a yawn with the back of a hand. She only made it through two of the six readings due, and she still hasn’t touched the worksheets, but she has all of Sunday to get them done.

She barely registers the walk down the hall to her room. She doesn’t bother turning the lights on, merely kicking her shoes off on the way to the bed and falling face first onto the pillow. Her father will likely have words with her if he catches her sleeping in her clothes, but she doesn’t care.

[afanofmanystuffs]

Yellow Y’all!

This is an update on all my writing stuff. Participation requested!

So, I reminded myself that I had a shitload of things sitting around. And they need to be posted. So, I found time in my busy, busy life to take a look. I have so many!!!

So, first of all, I'd like to announce a new drabble series: Editor's Elysium!

You're an assistant editor, and you've recently managed to get a promotion to be work under Castiel, the erotica editor who is purported to be able to fix anything and turn it into something on the New York Times Bestseller list. And along with you, he's gotten a new job: Angels, Demons and Everything In-Between (working title), by Dean Winchester. You soon remember that editing can be a fun, frustrating, and sometimes futile job, but whatever it is, Castiel is the best editor you've ever worked under. (Drabble series, implied Castiel x Reader, because it's me, duh. All tales here are strictly fictional, of course, and really have no basis in reality. Really, why would you think that?)

Now, the next part is where you all come in! I need votes! I have 7 WIPs/drabbles that I can finish and post.

(This got long so everything else is under the cut!)

Here are the contenders:

A Purgatory Cas X Reader fic, a oneshot that involves dirty fucking (idea).

Casifer X Sam X Reader threesome (The Devil and His Vessel)- Lucifer, since taking up the vessel of Castiel, is determined to outshine Sam in every way possible- including pleasuring you. (1200 words written, probably a oneshot).

ABO Castiel X Reader crack (Prompt: Vibrator malfunction)- 460 word drabble. Needs last sentence.

'These Are My Favorite Things' SPN version. I have three verses written and am planning to record and release it if I can find a musical accompaniment!

Dean X Reader and Castiel X Reader two or three part miniseries. Dean knows how much you like Cas but still baits you about it on a drunken night. Cas, of course, finds out. (I'm not as into this series but if everyone's into it I guess I could write it).

Dom/Sub Castiel X Reader- Castiel comes home angry, and falls back on the structure of his relationship with you. 925 words written, maybe about 1/3 done. NSFW oneshot, my take on showing a healthy D/S relationship.

Porn Star AU Castiel x Reader - Series. You and Castiel are some of the biggest names in the industry, but have never worked together before... Until now, when you're both offered to come shoot a sex on the beach movie on location. Your stay starts off with a bang as you meet a handsome stranger the first night you're there, and only gets more complicated as the shoot is forced to be extended while a tropical storm blows through. Will you and your costar ever be able to work together professionally? Obviously NSFW, 90 words written. Mostly still an idea.

I'd also like to announce that I'm planning on doing audiofics- the audiobook equivalent of my fics, and also any other fics (by other authors, with permission) by request. I am actively taking requests for which fic I should do first.

Now, I have more plots sitting around (including the Fallen Angel AU, featuring Dark!Cas and the Fantasy AU, featuring polyamory), but I think this is enough for now.

I also have the next part of Falling is Flying ready to go, sans editing. I just haven't had time. I also have one more part of The Cabin to write, edit, and publish, whenever I get to that, and I can post the last two parts. Hopefully I can manage that by the end of the year.

Please tell me the two WIPs you'd like me to go forward on first! All of these should eventually be posted, but if left to my own devices it's gonna be a really long time. Don't be afraid to pester me!

Tag List:

Please let me know if you’d like to removed, added, or switched to any of my tag lists!

The Cabin tags:

@kdfrqqg

Official tags:

@scarletluvscas @tornadoecat @bloodstained-porcelain-doll @greenappleeyes  @wheresthekillswitch @goldenangelbloodcastiel @sparklingcas @peculiarlyrene @webcricket @kristendansmith

Unsolicited tags:  

@lucifer-in-leather  @archangel-with-a-shotgun @bkwrm523 @kittenofdoomage @pinknerdpanda  @splendidcas @willowing-love @castiel-knight-of-hell @luciferismyhomeboy @mysteriouslyme81 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @charlie-bradcherry  @just-a-touch-of-crowley @mrswhozeewhatsis @lipstickandwhiskey  @thegreatficmaster @impala-dreamer @vintagevalentinexx  @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @winchestersnco @rowdyhooliganism @purgatoan  @roxy-davenport @ilostmyshoe-79 @castiellover @gneisscastiel @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @haven3333

Personal tags:

@mate-im-captain-jack-sparrow @ferid-trash-bathory @devilscharismatic @unlock-the-soul @silvie111

[clonerightsagenda]

Posting Gill’s bday fic over here with permission. It’s Rosemary-related and TLC compliant (with a couple of minor spoilers) but should be understandable even with no knowledge of the AU.

This is what you have learned from dating Rose Lalonde. Expect any room to fill up with clutter in her presence. Your attempts to keep things tidy are as effective as holding back the tide. Expect everything to take on the feel of an epic, like you might be summoned onto a world-altering quest at a moment’s notice. It’s like a human fairy tale, but the old kind, not remakes that are all glitter and talking animals. The stories with teeth.

Don’t expect her to say that she loves you.

Don’t take it personally either. That’s what you remind yourself. Rose resists sincerity. When you presented her with the first flowers you’d grown in the new greenhouse (roses; you’d been delighted to learn she’d been named for a flower), she’d laughed uncertainly like you’d unlocked an event she didn’t have a script for. Over the next week, as the blooms withered, they moved around. First you spotted them on the windowsill, then on her bedside table, in this vase or that one, like she couldn’t figure out what place they had in her life.

On the Land of Rays and Frogs, you encountered a puzzle path made of colored lily pads. If you stepped on the wrong one, it would buckle and deposit you in a mini-boss chamber before you returned to the start, weary and wiser. Navigating this relationship feels much the same. Some of your missteps now are the inevitable outcome of two species still learning about each other, but not all of them. After reading Rose’s walkthrough, you’d daydreamed of meeting its author. Now you think you need a walkthrough for her too.

The day after your tumultuous first date, Rose dumped her concoctions down the drain, saying she could embarrass herself perfectly well without the aid of depressants. Not even a week later, she set the equipment up again.

“It might come in handy for medicinal purposes,” she said when you asked her why she’d changed her mind. “Besides, it wasn’t all bad.” She winked. “We got some mileage out of it.”

You blushed, and your rainbow drinker glow briefly flared before you wrestled it under control again. In the first few weeks you hadn’t known how the rules changed when you moved from unofficial to official. Where did you put your eyes, or your hands? What were you allowed to say? “It did make you more forward.”

She laughed, and from the sharpness on her breath you realized she’d already been sampling her experiments. “I can be so fucking uptight sometimes. Maybe we all need to lighten up. Lighten up. Get it?”

“I get it,” you said. But you didn’t.

So you sought clarification from Dave. After you quested through the meteor, lipstick at the ready in case of clown sightings, you found him topside staring back the way you’d come. At the beginning of your journey, you’d taken turns stationing yourselves there, afraid Jack would catch up and resume his rampage when you least expected it. When he didn’t make an appearance, you’d all let your guards down, reducing sentry duty to a quick backward glance now and then. Was he keeping watch for Lord English now?

“Are you watching for Jack?” you asked.

He jumped and tried to cover it with a miniscule adjustment to his cape. “Nah. Watching Skeletor blast everyone to bits.”

“You and Rose have been up here a lot recently.”

“We both came up after the first killing, you know? It was so loud.” He rubbed at his eyes underneath his shades. His skin is a few shades lighter than his sibling’s, and you could see shadows there. “It’s been hard to sleep since then. At least she’s found a way to conk out.”

“About her newfound use of soporifics.” You hesitated, staring up at the flashing lights that were already becoming familiar. It’s amazing how fast you accustom yourselves to the unthinkable. “Is that normal for humans?”

He frowned. (Later, he’d tell you he hadn’t been sure how to respond. “I didn’t want to fuck it up for you two,” he said. “I didn’t think it’d get that bad.”) “Hard to say what’s normal in our situation. Guess a lot of people would pull out a bottle after everything we’ve gone through. Better than sticking a forty-five in your mouth. She’s always been extreme about reacting to things. It’s hard to believe we’re the same damn species sometimes, let alone siblings.”

“I didn’t think an outing with me is so terrible you have to be out of your wits to enjoy it.” You didn’t mean to sound petulant, but his eyebrows rose.

“She doesn’t mean it like that.”

“I thought you didn’t understand her.”

“It would take an institutional thinktank to really figure her out, but I do a little.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. He does that when he’s being serious sometimes. “I think the whole thing freaked her out. Freaks her out, present tense, if you’re officially an item now. Congrats, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

Another spiderweb of cracks blossomed above your heads. You could see them reflected in Dave’s shades as he said, “I don’t think she trusts anyone being nice to her 100%, that’s all. Not even me.”

Rose has been clean for months now in human terms. You both have. The first few weeks of your victory were spent dealing with the effects of abandoning your substances of choice. You stumbled around feeling as if you’d been dipped in concrete, your movements and thoughts slow and ponderous. Rose went days without sleep and flinched away from things the rest of you couldn’t see. Roxy warned you of what to expect, since she’d gone through the process before. She’s also the one who told you to remind Rose to eat. “She’s not gonna want to,” she said. “You feel gross all over and the last thing you want to do is stick more shit in your body, but if you don’t eat you’ll just feel crummier.”

You’d noticed her drinking her meals before, but you’d never brought it up beyond meaningful glances or the pointed placement of foodstuffs in her respiteblock. Rose has always been good at dodging questions. “Do you have any suggestions for a strategic approach? She’ll try to deflect me with witticisms. Her barbs are floppy at the edges right now, but my defenses are equally compromised.”

“That’s a cute way of saying you’re both fucked up.” Roxy shrugged. “I can’t beat her in a war of words, and I wouldn’t try. My advice? Sit on her and force feed her Saltines while telling her it’s for her own good.”

You had been skipping meals yourself. Even after eating normal food, you still felt hungry. Your system wanted something else to satisfy it, so what was the point? Rose latched on to that hypocrisy when you tried to nag her, so you’d end up sitting across the table from each other with plates of leftovers cold from the fridge, matching each other mouthful for mouthful. Whatever worked.

The worst of that is past now. But sometimes she still behaves in ways that make you wonder if after all these sweeps she really trusts you.

-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] -- GA: Jade GA: Shes Doing It Again GG: whos doing what? :o GA: You Know Who GA: Who Else Do I Come To You In Search Of Explanations For Their Inexplicable Habits GA: Show Some Space Player Solidarity Here GA: There Are So Few Of Us Who View Common Sense As Part Of A Complete Breakfast GG: for everyone else its an optional granola to sprinkle on top GA: The Recipe Said Season To Taste And Im Afraid Theres A Serious Lack Of That In The Premises GA: Ok Can We Cut The Extended Cooking Metaphor Out GG: yeah, it was getting a little meanspirited GA: That Too I Guess Mostly I Didnt Want To Get Stuck Exchanging Culinary Puns GG: ok, what terrible thing is rose doing now GA: She Has Locked Herself In Her Room And Has Been Listening To Her Playlist Designated For Angst For Three Hours GG: lol GG: that behavior cannot stand! GG: except it sort of can, since we all have a right to privacy GG: even if we exercise that right by listening to sad music all day GG: these things cannot be revoked for bad taste GA: Actually Most Of It Has Been Pretty Good GA: Filtering Through The Door Gives It Nice Acoustics GG: maybe you need to give her some... space :D :D :D GA: I Just Want To Know What Upset Her GA: She Says It Wasnt Me But I Dont Know If That Means It Wasnt Me Or It Was Me And I Am Expected To Work That Out On My Own GA: A Reassessment Of The Past Few Days Activities Hasnt Turned Up Anything Suspicious GG: i cant think of anything that might have upset her... GG: ohhhhhhhhhh GG: i think its her moms birthday GG: that might be it GA: How Did You Know GA: Is That Supposed To Be Common Knowledge GG: she complained one time about having to go to a fancy dinner GG: something thrown by her moms colleagues i think??? GG: her mom made her dress up in something frilly, she said she felt like an american girl doll GG: to be honest she sent a picture and i thought it was a cute dress!! GG: definitely not her style though GA: Im Impressed You Remember GG: i try to keep track of these things GG: it was nice hearing about everyones lives, i always wished I could do things like that GG: tell me your lususes birthday, i will put it in my calendar GA: I Never Knew It GA: I Wish Shed Told Me GA: Rose I Mean I Dont Think Wriggling Days Are Important For Virgin Mothergrubs GG: dont take it personally GG: she does it to all of us, and youre her girlfriend so she has to be EXTRA secretive about terrible and compromising things like emotions GA: That Logic Sounds Backward GG: the human mind is a complicated maze of mystery kanaya GA: Sounds Mysterious GG: it is GG: she probably doesnt realize its stressing you out, i know shes trying to be better about that kind of thing GG: you know, COMMUNICATION!! D: GA: No Please Anything But That GG: the achilles heel of our entire household GG: i can bug her if you want GA: No Thats Ok GA: Mostly I Wanted To Make Sure I Hadnt Caused This And Needed To Resolve It GA: If She Wants To Grieve By Herself I Understand GG: if shes still in there by dinner well root her out! GG: there is a limit to how many sad songs are good for your soul GA: Ok GA: In The Meantime Do You Have Any Work That Needs Doing In The Greenhouse GA: Id Like To Keep My Hands Busy GG: theres some stuff that needs deadheading on table three GG: do you want company? GA: No Thats Fine GA: Ill Talk To You Later GG: sure thing! -- ¬¬grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] -- GA: Im Sorry About Your Mother TT: Who told you about that? GA: Jade TT: Figures. TT: Lousy goddamn supportive friends. GA: She Has Said She Will Flush You Out If You Dont Come Down To Dinner GA: Do You Feel Up To It GA: Otherwise I Can Convince Her To Leave You Be GA: She Is Easily Distracted From Her Resolutions If You Know How To Play Your Gaming Rectangles Right TT: No, I'll be there. TT: What time is it? GA: Half Past Five So No Rush GA: Im Still Gardening And Havent Washed Up TT: It might take me that long to get presentable. GA: Was Her Wriggling Day Important To You GA: I Admit The Concept Is New To Me GA: What With Our Ancestors Being So Far Removed From Our Lives And Our Guardians Being Literal Fauna Who Did Not Celebrate Notable Dates TT: It’s probably not even her real birthday. TT: We were all created on the same day, and I doubt anyone was on hand to record when her meteor touched down. TT: She must have picked a day she liked. TT: We used to give each other over-the-top gifts every year. TT: I thought she was being passive aggressive, so I reciprocated in turn. TT: The last year, I thought about getting her a bedazzled martini glass, but I didn’t get around to it. TT: Thank god. TT: I can only hope she interpreted my gestures as sincere as readily as I interpreted hers as sarcastic. TT: Otherwise she must have thought I was the worst daughter imaginable. GA: Im Sure She Didnt Think That TT: I wish I’d given her something better. TT: Something genuine. GA: I Was Working On A New Hat For Nepeta During The Game GA: I Got Some Monster Slime On Her Old One With A Sloppy Chainsaw Maneuver And Even Though She Said It Wasnt The First Time I Wanted To Make It Up To Her GA: And Help At Least One Of My Teammates Diversify Their Wardrobe TT: There’s always an ulterior motive, isn’t there? GA: You Tell Me GA: You Are The Expert In Decoding The Nefarious Meaning Hidden Within Every Exchange Of Pleasantries TT: It’s a secret code, Kanaya. TT: The sixth grader who tossed the newspaper into our yard this morning is working with the KGB. That’s what "Good morning" meant. This is well established in spy manuals. GA: My Knowledge Of Human Subterfuge Is Always Expanding GA: The Hat Was Supposed To Be A Surprise GA: Then I Found It In A Treasure Chest Not Long Into Our Journey GA: Theyre Gone And You Know That But Then You Find Something That Reminds You GA: Oh GA: Ill Never Give Her That Will I TT: I don’t know what I would’ve done if we’d lost anyone from our session. TT: Well, I do know. I have memories from a timeline where we lost half. TT: It wasn’t pretty. TT: I know in a lot of ways we got lucky. GA: Its Not A Contest GA: You Dont Have To Have Had It Worst To Feel Bad TT: I know. TT: But it’s hard. GA: See Look At Us Talking About Our Emotions Isnt That Nice GA: A Horrible Kind Of Nice TT: Or a nice kind of horrible. TT: Either or. GA: The Juxtaposition Is Key TT: I didn't mean to shut you out. GA: I Know You Need Privacy Sometimes GA: I Would Just Prefer To Know Whats Going On So I Dont Have To Worry About Whats Wrong GA: And You Know You Can Talk To Me TT: I know. Intellectually. TT: Is it weird I can trust you all with my life but not always with my feelings? GA: Kind Of GA: But I Get It GA: Were All Weird About Some Things TT: I'm trying to do better. And I'll let you know next time I need to indulge in a three-hour sad jams session so you won't worry. TT: Maybe after I've run through my playlist, we can even talk about it. GA: We Can Sit Awkwardly At A Table Waiting For The Other One To Break The Silence First TT: A tradition. GA: Also I Should Let You Know Its Stir Fry Night TT: Really? TT: You should have led with that. TT: Save me a seat.

As time passes, you all improve with hesitant steps that sometimes send you sliding back, sometimes not. Rose throws herself into her walkthrough, which she plans to distribute to anyone else caught up in SGRUB’s gears. Everyone is on consultant duty to flesh out areas of personal expertise. You, however, are her co-editor, a position of special privilege.

Rose views the work as one more way to help whatever players come after you. Your motivation is less selfless. Once, several sweeps and universes ago, an alien’s words found you and gave you something to hang on to. Somewhere, in a distant galaxy, someone else is being forced to play this game. Maybe your words can reach them, like Rose’s reached you. Working on the walkthrough now lets you build something together in a way that she won’t dismiss as sappy and overdone, a love letter for the universe.

That doesn’t mean you don’t run into difficulties, of course.

TT: Have you had a chance to look over the Prospit chapter? GA: Oh Uh GA: Ive Seen It TT: Did you have any feedback? TT: I'm going to ask Jade too, but I thought I'd give you the first shot. GA: Um GA: I Dont Know TT: Was it that off-base? TT: I know I'm a Derse dreamer, but I tried to be thorough. GA: Its More The Tone GA: You Wrote That Prospit May Look Friendlier But Should Still Be Viewed As An Antagonist Because It Has Ulterior Motives GA: And Maybe Thats True Especially About The Clouds GA: But My Time On The Moon Was The Brighter Portion Of My Childhood GA: And The People Of Prospit Were Always Kind To Me GA: So I Guess The Framing Made Those Memories Feel Kind Of GA: Threatened TT: Oh. GA: It Isnt A Logical Reaction TT: What do you think I should change? GA: I Dont Know GA: Maybe Nothing GA: Youre The Expert Here I Know Im Biased Toward My Moon Whatever Systems It Might Be Part Of GA: We All Take That View About Some Parts Of Our Youth Dont We GA: Even If It Was Part Of Something Bad We Remember The Good Moments GA: We Hold On To The Small Kindnesses TT: …Yeah. GA: You Can Disregard That Feedback GA: Youre The One With Writing Expertise And A Clear Goal In Mind GA: I Dont Really Know What Im Doing GA: Youre Better At This TT: I’m really not. TT: I just put on a more convincing show. TT: Don’t dismiss yourself. You have expertise in areas I don’t. GA: I Guess Im Not As Used To Putting Myself Out There TT: You can come up with a clever pen name. TT: There’s a tradition of vampires spelling their names backward. GA: Im Reformed TT: An anagram then, maybe. TT: Jokes aside, this is a collaborative project. We’ve got a Google doc and everything. TT: I don't want to intergalactically publish anything you're not comfortable with. TT: How about a revision session this evening? I'll bring Lofthouse cookies. GA: The Ones That Are Just Discs Of Sugar And Flour TT: With nary a redeeming nutritional quality in sight. TT: Keep that quiet, though. Jane would kill me if she knew I was smuggling them into the house. GA: Sounds Great Ill Be There

Rose’s typical drafting position is on her stomach with her laptop propped up on the pillow. You prefer to stretch your legs out with your back up against the wall. Thermoses of tea balance precariously between the two of you on the mattress.

“There’s been a lot of activity on the kernelsprite document,” Rose says, flicking through the pages. “Apparently Hal listed “100 advantages of being prototyped” and Dirk replaced it with “Most of this list is either illegal or immoral.” I’m turning track changes on to see what they were.”

You tap your fingers idly on the keys while your own husktop buffers. “Anything good?”

“Get away with murder,” she reads. “That’s cliché, you don’t even have to be a sprite for that. I think he just put it in there to be edgy. He’s trying so hard; you have to respect that. It’s like when I started buying black makeup to try to spite my mother.” She scrolls down further. “Oh, here’s a good one. Clip through the floor.”

“I’ve seen John do it. He’s not as original as he thinks he is.” You peer at her screen. “Eat your enemy’s phone. I’ll give him points for one. It’s not feasible for most mortals.”

Rose reaches across your legs for another cookie. “Sure, if you’re a coward.”

“I’ll accept that designation if it means avoiding a mouthful of circuitry.”

She chews thoughtfully and then flicks a sprinkle off onto the carpet. At least you’re in her room. Still, you feel a compulsion to pick it up. “About what you were saying earlier. I don’t want to contribute to any lingering insecurities.”

The change of topics catches you off guard. “They’re milling around in the lobby, but I’m not letting them upstairs.” You shrug, your shoulders sliding up the wall. “As we’ve been reminding each other, we can’t fix everything about ourselves immediately. I’m more confident than I used to be. I didn’t let Jake talk me into that routine with the glitter.”

“Shame.” She frowns at you, an expression diluted somewhat by a rim of frosting on her upper lip. “I’m not commandeering this project too much, am I? It’s nice to have something to be enthusiastic about again, but maybe I’m getting carried away.”

“No, you’re being very accommodating.” You squirm, smoothing out inconsequential creases in your skirt. Sometimes feelings don’t make sense. But once Rose decides she wants to talk about them, she tries to pin them to the page and dissect them. She does it because she wants to understand and help, the same way she wants to reverse engineer SBURB with words to assist players who come after. That doesn’t make the process any more pleasant when you’re the one on the operating table. “The problem is on my end, in the concern lobby. The lurking insecurities have been taking numbers for a while, and the counter is only up to twelve.”

“Like Inside Out crossed with a DMV? Hellish.” Rose picks up a pen and rolls it between her fingers. She likes to draft things longhand first sometimes. “I remember back on the last day of the game, you said you thought everyone burned brighter than you. You must’ve realized by now that my “burning brighter” is mostly because I have a habit of setting myself on fire.”

You’ll admit you’d been starstruck by the walkthrough’s mysterious author. It had been nice to harbor a new secret crush once Vriska was a lost cause. And you’d first met Rose face to face as a newly risen goddess bathed in the luminescence of the Green Sun. She’d seemed ethereal and beyond you.

Then, after the first few hours of sorting out living arrangements and watching Karkat roam around yelling for Gamzee to give the bodies back, she’d announced she was going to “sleep for a fucking week” and faceplanted into the nearest rug. Dave didn’t help beyond alchemizing some safety cones and setting them up around her. That had helped a little. So had seeing what her hair looks like in the mornings. “If you’re worried I have some unattainable vision of you set on a mental altar, rest easy. But you did restructure the multiverse with nothing but nerve, so I might still want your autograph a little.”

Rose brandishes the pen. “Only on the condition I get to sign your bra.” When you wave her away, she drops it on the pillow. “Spearheading the multiverse operation is one of my prouder accomplishments, I’ll admit, but my violet-tinged authorial prowess is entirely due to thinking I was hot shit as a pre-teen on the Internet. Besides, if we’re talking bragging rights, you fixed reality. Not to mention put up with us idiots for three years.”

“That was a struggle.” At times you’d wondered if you were the only one on the meteor keeping ahold of your wits. “Remember when the ceiling panels gave way and Gamzee fell onto the table?”

“Not our best group dinner. But you see, I’m a mess. You’re the one who has her act together.”

You frown. Being praised for your stability is a sore spot of yours. Yes, you’d been the one to bear everyone else’s struggles. That doesn’t mean you liked it. “I had to. Someone did. It got tiring after a while, though.”

Rose winces. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. You shouldn’t have had to. But it is impressive that you did.”

“You were sick,” you say, in response to her apology.

You see her shoulder blades rise and fall in a muted shrug. “I know. But that doesn’t mean you should have had to deal with it.”

“I guess…” Maybe you’re the one who’s prompted her to speak up, but you struggle with your words too. Troll culture teaches you that open exchanges of feelings are for moirails. Palemates are the only people you can trust the depths of your soul to, if you can truly trust anyone at all. Humans don’t compartmentalize in the same way. You can see the benefits of that system, but you still fear saying the wrong thing will push her away. “You undercut yourself to tell me I’m better than I think I am. But if I’m already worried about measuring up to some standard, that just pushes us both lower. Do you see what I mean?”

“The self-deprecation’s not cute. Got it.” She twists around in what is probably some kind of advanced yoga pose to look you in the eye. “But you shouldn’t undersell yourself either, ok?”

When she doesn’t break eye contact, you nod reluctantly. “This is a very affirming argument we’re having.”

She reaches over and prods you with the pen. “I’m channeling Jake. Believe in yourself.”

You smile. “It’s hard to resist, these days.”

When you’re done for the evening, Rose captchalogues her laptop and you troop out. Everyone has their own room, but all of you tend to spend more of your nights in the common area curled up in armchairs or slumped over each other on sofas, within easy sight of each other when you wake from bad dreams. After a few weeks of intentionally lingering there until you fell asleep, you made it official and filled the whole room with soft materials like a huge communal pile. Terezi even taped up democratically-determined regulations. Rose spends some nights curled up next to you with her face shoved so close against your neck you wonder how she can breathe. Sometimes, though, she retreats to a corner with a pillow at her back like a wall. You know not to approach her then.

Tonight, she finds an empty patch of floor and drops down on it. You lower yourself next to her.

“Are you happy with the chapter now?” she asks.

“I’d like to give it another pass tomorrow, but it’s much better.”

“And everything else?”

“That’s better too.”

“Good.” She gives you a peck on the lips and, when Terezi wolfwhistles, flips her the bird and kisses you for real. You kiss her back, until… You pull away.

“Are you wearing my lip balm?”

“Maybe.” She purses the lips in question. “It’s got a good flavor.”

“I was wondering where that went. You know, you could have just asked to borrow it.” Grudgingly, anyway. She has a terrible habit of licking the stuff off and then reapplying it to start the cycle anew.

Rose raises an eyebrow. “You offered to do my laundry so you could steal my favorite shirt.”

You think, with only a modicum of guilt, of the shirt you have stashed behind the laundry basket in your closet. “It’s very soft.”

“I’m never getting that back, am I?”

“Probably not.”

She sticks her tongue out at you and pulls a blanket over her shoulders. “Night.”

“Good night,” you say. That’s the only endearment you exchange.

-- grimAuxiliatrix [GA] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] -- GA: Karkat GA: Karkat Answer Your Phone I Know You Can See This GA: Youre Looking At It Right Now CG: YEAH I SURE AM. CG: I'M STARING AT THIS MARVELOUS HUNK OF PLASTIC AND ELECTRICITY IN MY HANDS AND REFLECTING ON HOW IT GRANTS US THE ABILITY TO COMMUNICATE WITH EACH OTHER FROM ANY DISTANCE. CG: SUCH AS, FOR EXAMPLE, EIGHT FUCKING FEET AWAY. GA: This Is Private CG: I DIDN'T KNOW WE HAD A CONCEPT OF PRIVACY ANYMORE. CG: COLOR ME SURPRISED, SO SOME THINGS ABOUT OUR LIVES *AREN’T* SUPPOSED TO BE COMMON KNOWLEDGE? GA: It Might Help If You Spoke With Any Kind Of Discretion Or Volume Control CG: NOT AN OPTION. CG: CARRY ON. GA: Youve Watched A Lot Of Human Romances GA: What Is The Appropriate Interval Before Affirmations Of Matespritship Are Exchanged GA: You Know Like GA: Uh CG: "I LOVE YOU"? GA: Yes That CG: THE FIRST STEP IS BEING ABLE TO TYPE IT INTO A PRIVATE CHAT SESSION WITHOUT BLUSHING. CG: I CAN SEE YOU OVER THERE. GA: Dammit GA: What Is The Waiting Period Here Like Three Sweeps CG: SO I GUESS SHE HASN'T DONE IT YET? GA: Well GA: Not Sober GA: She Was Quite Eager To Confess Admiration While On Soporifics GA: To Everyone And Everything Including Inanimate Objects GA: Im Not Sure Such Exchanges No Matter How Heartfelt Can Be Considered Fully Genuine CG: YOU'RE IN LUCK, A LOT OF HUMAN FILMS COVER THIS IN DEPTH. CG: IF YOU WANT I CAN ARRANGE A VIEWING SESSION WITH SOME MORE INFORMATIVE SELECTIONS. GA: That Might Be Fun GA: But Mostly I Would Appreciate Some Friendly Advice GA: As Educational As Im Sure The Latest Work Starring Anne Hathaway Would Be CG: AN EXECUTIVE SUMMARY IS: CG: IT USUALLY DOESN’T TAKE THIS LONG. CG: BUT THE CHARACTERS INVOLVED ARE OLDER, THE SAME SPECIES, AND HAVEN’T BEEN THROUGH A WAR, SO IT’S NOT A REPRESENTATIVE SAMPLE. CG: ARE YOU WORRIED ABOUT IT? GA: Not Exactly GA: I Know The Sentiment Is There GA: If Anything I Just Hope She Feels Comfortable Enough She Knows She Can Be Open With Me GA: Shes Trying But I Can Tell Its Still Difficult For Her CG: DAVE SAYS "its obvious shes crazy about you" SO NO WORRIES THERE. GA: Why Is Dave Part Of This Conversation CG: HE WALKED OVER AND LOOKED AT MY PHONE OVER THE BACK OF THE SOFA. CG: LIKE I SAID. PRIVACY = ZERO GA: Hi Dave CG: HE SAYS HI. GA: I Saw Him Wave GA: Now Tell Him To Go Away CG: AND HE’S GONE. CG: THE CHAT IS CLEAR OF FUTURE BROTHERS-IN-LAW. GA: Future What CG: THAT’S WHAT YOU’LL BE IF YOU AND ROSE GET "HUMAN MARRIED". CG: THE RITUAL MAKES YOU FAMILY WITH THEIR ENTIRE FAMILY. CG: I’M PRETTY SURE IT WAS HISTORICALLY DESIGNED TO ACQUIRE ECONOMIC AND POLITICAL ADVANTAGES. CG: YOU KNOW, KIND OF LIKE HOW INTERCASTE MOIRALLEGIANCES CAN AFFORD LOWER CASTES PROTECTION. CG: BUT IN MODERN TIMES MOSTLY IT MEANS YOU’RE STUCK WITH THOSE CHUCKLEFUCKS FOR LIFE AS A PACKAGE DEAL. GA: Oh No CG: OH YES. GA: Karkat I May Be Rethinking This Whole Venture CG: TOO LATE, I’M GOING TO BE YOUR BEST MAN. IT’S ALREADY DECIDED. GA: What Is A Best Man GA: Is It Whoever I Have Designated If I Were For Some Reason Obligated To Wed Someone Of That Gender CG: NO. CG: THE MOVIES AREN’T ENTIRELY CLEAR ABOUT THEIR ROLE, BUT IN GENERAL THEY GIVE HEARTFELT SPEECHES AND PROVIDE EMOTIONAL SUPPORT. GA: Maybe I Want Jake To Be My Best Man GA: He Can Recite Touching Monologues Ripped From The Silver Screen CG: YOU HAVE NO SAY IN THIS WHATSOEVER. CG: (YOU KNOW I’M JOKING, RIGHT?) GA: I Figured GA: Although I Wouldn’t Put It Past You To Try To Plan That Kind Of Thing Out For Me CG: HEY IF YOU EVER WANT IDEAS, I CAN THROW SOME OUT THERE. CG: YOU’RE WAY TOO YOUNG FOR THAT KIND OF THING THOUGH. CG: AND WE STILL HAVE TO GET YOU FROM POINT A TO POINT B, WHICH INVOLVES TRAVERSING THE ROCKY TERRAIN OF EMOTIONAL HONESTY, WITH WHICH I HAVE HAD NO PAST PROBLEMS AT ALL. CG: YOU COULD ALWAYS SAY IT FIRST YOURSELF I GUESS. CG: UNLESS YOU THINK THAT’LL MAKE HER EVEN MORE NERVOUS? GA: It Might GA: Outright Displays Of Emotion Embarrass Her She Relates It Too Much To Her Drunken Excesses And Those Of Her Mother GA: If I Can Be Permitted To Psychoanalyze Here GA: Shes Admitted As Much CG: THEN… LET HER KNOW SHE CAN FEEL COMFORTABLE? CG: THAT DOESN’T SOUND VERY EXCITING, BUT MAYBE IT DOESN’T HAVE TO. CG: THEY MAKE A BIG DEAL OUT OF IT IN THE MOVIES BUT I THINK AS LONG AS YOU’RE BOTH ON THE SAME PAGE WHETHER THOSE THREE EXACT WORDS HAVE ESCAPED YOUR QUIVERING CHUTE FLAPS DOESN’T MATTER ALL THAT MUCH. CG: THERE ARE OTHER WAYS TO SHOW YOU CARE. I’M PRETTY SURE YOU’VE GOT THAT COVERED. CG: MOVIES AREN’T ALWAYS THAT REALISTIC ABOUT WHICH PARTS OF A RELATIONSHIP ARE A FEDERAL FUCKING ISSUE VERSUS WHICH PARTS ARE NEGOTIABLE. GA: !! CG: YEAH YEAH RUB IT IN. CG: SO I RELIED ON THEM A LOT, IT’S NOT LIKE I HAD MUCH PERSONAL EXPERIENCE. GA: I Shouldnt Criticize This Was Helpful GA: Thanks For Listening GA: And I Would Like To Watch Movies With You Sometime If That Offer Is Still On The Table CG: DEFINITELY. CG: I’LL LET YOU KNOW WHEN I’VE GOT A GOOD LINEUP PULLED TOGETHER.

A few days later, Rose wanders into your room unannounced and flops onto the bed. This isn’t uncommon behavior, so you keep sorting through your clean laundry. Her cat behaves similarly, insinuating himself into a room as if he belongs there. It’s a lazy confidence you envy. “We should go out,” she says, directing her words at the ceiling.

“We should?” you ask, holding two socks up to see if they match. They don’t, exactly, but they are a pair. Rose knitted them for you herself. They’re lumpy and awkwardly shaped, and you treasure them.

“We were going to do something fun after the game, remember? That was the plan. But we've both been sick, and outside is...” Rose waves toward the window and the world it serves as a barrier against. “Outside, so we haven't gotten around to it. But we should. You’ve been in your room a lot. It’ll do us both good.”

Drat. Your downturns aren’t as explosive as the others’. Sometimes you simply withdraw, spending more time on your own while a mental screen descends between you and the world, distorting it like a blur filter. There’s nothing wrong with you, exactly; it’s just that you don’t have the energy. That’s not bad, right? There are worse things than numbness. “What were you thinking we could do?”

She sits up halfway and then flops back down again. The pillows bounce. “I was hoping you'd have some ideas.”

You twist the socks together and toss them into the appropriate drawer. “The only thing I remember suggesting was outfits without sleeves.”

“Compelling, but not really something to make a date out of.” Rose frowns. “Have we ever... had a normal date? By regular people's standards?”

“Troll or human?” You shake your head. “I don't think any species would give us a passing grade.”

“Earthworms might be impressed.”

You pout. “You've never taken me to any good plots of soil.”

“We'll do that next time. For now, Jane said someone needs to do the shopping.”

“You know how to sweep me off my feet.”

Rose, still prone, waves a list in your direction. “It'll be fun. We get to pick which flavor of potato chips we want, and everyone else has to live with it.”

If Alternia had anything like supermarkets, they hadn’t spread near your oasis. For all that your caste can stand the sun, the electric lights hurt your eyes. They’re too bright – a harsh white that makes all the bright colors look flat and artificial. You reach for Rose’s hand, and she squeezes it. “I appreciate the support,” you say, “but I wanted to see the list.”

“Oh. Right.” She brings it up for both of you to consult. “Does Jade know how expensive beef is? She’s really running us through it.”

“She’s been talking about growing vegetables for the household. It’s too bad she can’t raise her own cows.”

“Don’t give her ideas. She wouldn’t be able to bring herself to butcher them, not after we’d named them all.” Rose leads you to the back of the store and scoops up slabs of meat packed into tidy foam and plastic containers. The setup is so clinical your residual rainbow drinker instincts don’t even twitch. It’s a far cry from the Alternian pastime of slicing your dinner up while it’s still wriggling. “We need milk,” she begins, and trails off after she pivots to the left. “It was that way in my old store. But they must not follow a common plan.”

Rose looks unmoored now that her navigational confidence has been broken. A lot of the humans are like this, wavering when their world doesn’t behave the way they think it should. It’s almost easier for those of you who expect foreign ways and customs. It’s harder to be a stranger in your own home. “We’ll wander,” you say, and steer her firmly by the shoulder.

By a combination of trial and error and studying signage like relics of a lost civilization, you manage to gather everything on the list. The only problem comes when you pass a series of shelves stacked with bottles, and Rose stiffens. It takes a moment for the pieces to fall into place – you’ve never seen wine packaged in its original containers before.

”Come on,” you say, linking your arm with hers. “Help me test which limes are ripest.”

You have to tug for a moment before she comes with you. You don’t think she’s planning to make a running leap for the vintage. If anything, she looks like she does when there’s an enemy sighted, wary and ready to spring. If she destroys several wine racks with a blast of divine light, that’ll probably go on your bill.

”Sorry,” she says, once you’ve made it to the produce section. “At my old store, it was in a separate room. Not out in the open.”

You lean toward her a little, so your shoulders press together. “It took you by surprise.”

She leans back. “Like pulling down your sheets and seeing a spider in your bed.” You see a dot of blood on her lower lip. She must have bitten it. “It must be harder for you. There’s no getting away from all that blood walking around on two legs.”

”It’s easier not to slip up, though.” You reach over with your free hand and dab at her cut, wiping the smear on the side of your shirt. “They’d make a fuss if I tried to sample it.”

”That’s what recovering alcoholics need.” She swipes at her mouth herself, but the wound is already closing. “Wine bottles that scream when you open them.”

”You’ve uncovered a new industry.”

”I need to patent it immediately.”

You squeeze her arm before letting go. If she’s making jokes, that’s a good sign.

Rose perks up when you’re heading toward the checkout. “Hang on. We have to stop by the natural foods section.”

”We do?” You check the list again. There’s nothing left on it.

”You never know,” she says. Now it’s her turn to drag you along. “The cure to all our life’s problems might be hiding next to the apricot kernels.”

Her tone is mocking. “Is there something wrong with natural products?”

”Not on their own. Jade says a lot of processed food upsets her stomach after growing up without it. But some people will pitch organic to you as the cure for cancer, and if you’re telling me you feed your four-year-old Goji berries instead of getting him vaccinated, I think you’ve opened yourself up to public disdain.” Rose plucks a box of tea off the shelf. “Look at this one. It says it’ll revitalize your body and restore harmony to your thoughts. All for twelve dollars, too.”

”Sounds like a deal.”

”It would have its work cut out for it with us. Hey, if I drink Sleepy Time and Stay Alert blends at the same time, what do you think will happen?”

”You’ll shed your corporeal form and ascend to a being of pure consciousness, and that would be a shame, because I like your face.” You retrieve the boxes and put them back before she decides to do product testing. “Apparently these exotic grains cure depression with their wholesome vitamins and minerals.”

”Buy the whole shelf.”

She’s right; some of these products are ridiculous. The two of you are giggling over asparagus water when a middle-aged woman pushes past you with her shopping cart. A highblood couldn’t look down their nose better. “Are you girls done with that?” she asks.

”Definitely,” Rose says, straight-faced. “I’d recommend it. It made us gay.”

Rose did the talking there, and you were too busy laughing to think of how to react. But when you get to the cashier, your tongue twists in your mouth. You stammer through pleasantries until Rose rescues you and completes the transaction. You drift away while she's collecting the bags, pretending to peruse the week's advertisement flier.

“She was pretty,” Rose says when she joins you, groceries in tow. “Is that why you were stuttering?”

You take half the bags from her. It would have been polite to help her carry them from the conveyor belt, but you needed to escape. “Was she? I didn't notice.”

She nudges you with a conspiratorial grin. “You don't have to play coy. I won't get jealous.”

“I'm not playing coy.” You shift one of the bags over your wrist, and something inside crinkles. Hopefully you didn’t break anything. “Her face was a blur. I panicked.”

Rose’s smile fades. “I’d forgotten you could be shy.”

The automatic doors whoosh open as the two of you approach. You sidestep a mother and her offspring going the other direction. “When you grow up on an oasis where your nearest neighbors are the shambling undead, you're a little cautious of strangers.”

“But willing to send them messages on Pesterchum questioning their intelligence and morals.”

She printed your first conversation logs off and stuck them to her wall, which you find equally endearing and annoying. Every time you see them, you itch to pull out a pen and make edits. “That's different. We weren't face to face. And... this is all new, here. I worry they'll be able to tell.”

“That they'll scream “Space invader!” and cart you off to a top secret facility?

”I’m sure it’s funny to you,” you say with a sniff, starting across the parking lot. “They won’t dissect you.”

She smiles again – you meant her to; the dissection at least was a joke. “I get nervous too. Not as much now after everything we’ve been through, but I’ve always been hyperaware of social situations. But I tend to take the ‘don't get scared; get angry’ approach.”

You recall how she marched up to the conveyor belt and slammed down her purchases. “I did wonder if you were going to challenge the salesperson to a strife.”

“Chalk it up to the childhood narcissism. I always felt like everyone was passing judgment.”

You accidentally make eye contact with a man stepping out of his vehicle and redirect your gaze at Rose’s collarbone. “Like everyone's watching.”

She nods. “And that's not true. They have their own problems and couldn't care less what we do. We're not important to them. In this case, that's reassuring.”

You’re surprised she finds it comforting. You’re happy to fade into the background; Rose likes to be noticed. You’d never realized it frightened her too. “What a pair we make,” you say.

“Between us, we add up to one functional person.”

You pull open the car door for her with a flourish. “I'd be generous and say at least 1.5.”

A few of the humans have been working to get their licenses so Jane’s father doesn’t have to drive them everywhere. Rose only has a permit, but that doesn’t stop her from using the car. Seer powers let her know if there’s likely to be trouble, but otherwise she drives like she’s got a grudge against the pavement. She peels out of the parking spot and then slams on the brakes. You hug a carton of eggs to your chest so they don’t splatter against the windshield. “What is it?”

”We have cold bags for everything, right?”

”Yes.” It was overkill for a short trip, but you prefer to be prepared.

She pulls into the store’s partner gas station while you wave apologetically at the elderly woman she just cut off. “This is a date. We’re going to get coffee.”

The coffee machine is broken, so you both get 99 cent slushies and sit on the curb next to the free air pump. The parking spot is empty save for a mulch of cigarette butts and ripped up Lotto tickets. Rose slurps some of her concoction out of a straw. It’s a murky mess, and you spotted her squirting a few shots of energy drink in for good measure. You spent several minutes painstakingly creating a rainbow pattern and are now trying to drink evenly to keep the layers intact. A bag of chips slumps half-empty between you. They’ll complain about that back home, but it’s their fault for not coming along to supervise.

Rose sucks on her straw with a noise like a drain unclogging. “How’s this for romance and adventure?”

“I could do it again,” you say. And you could. The encounter with the cashier still leaves you shaken, but the haze has peeled off the world. It’s funny how after everything you’ve been through, something as simple like this can be energizing. There are groceries in the car that need to get back and a household worth of responsibilities to keep up with, but right now it could just be the two of you setting off on some new adventure. Rose has always made you feel that way. Light players make the world narrow around them, drawing in attention, compressing possibility. They’re a lantern you bump against, entranced. With Rose, you’ve found one that doesn’t burn.

”Well shit, these were ninety-nine cents.” She smirks in the way that means you’ve missed a joke. “I think our budget can afford it.”

”Thank you for dragging me out here.” Lurking in your room seems silly now. “It helps, borrowing your confidence.”

”It’s a show,” she says. “I don’t know how you manage to seem so centered all the time.”

”Amateur theatrics,” you say. “One functional person, here we are.” She raises her drink in a toast, and you knock them together. ”I mean it, though,” you continue. “It’s nice, the way you turn things into adventures. Even if it’s a shopping trip, I don’t know where we’re going to end up. It’s unpredictable, but I like it. I like spending time with you.”

She smiles and looks away. Whenever you’ve successfully induced emotions, she never wants to look you in the eye. “That slushy must have made an impression.”

”It was good.” You flick the straw, sending drops of condensation scattering across the asphalt. “We didn’t have anything like this at home, at least not where I grew up. That might explain part of the rapturous response. But mostly I think it’s because I love you.”

Rose stills. That might be a bad sign, but you’ve gotten yourself into this situation, so you might as well keep going. “I’m not trying to corner you,” you say, looking down at your knees. “I know you have difficulty expressing some things. But I wanted to express that. Right now.”

When you sneak a look over, her shoulders are shaking. The ice from your drink solidifies in your stomach until you realize she’s laughing.

”Do you know how long I’ve been agonizing over this?” she asks.

”I knew why,” you begin. “Your mother…” That’s not a complete sentence, but it doesn’t have to be. Sometimes you want to ask John to transport you into Rose’s past so you can grab the woman by her shoulders and shake her. “How could you be so careless?” you want to demand. “Didn’t you realize what you were doing?” You are all the results of what has been done to you, combined with your attempts to overcome it. Even with your universes gone, their impressions remain as indelible parts of you. You wouldn’t want Rose to be anything other than who she is, but that doesn’t stop you from wishing she could have gotten something better growing up.

“That was what started it.” Rose takes a gulp of her drink. The humor drains from her voice. Now she’ll look you in the eye. “She’d vanish into her laboratory or a drunken stupor and leave me to fend for myself. The first time I tried cooking spaghetti I set off the fire alarm. I couldn’t get it to stop until I climbed up on a chair and took the batteries out. She slept through the whole thing. So when she turned up with a new present, how could I believe it was sincere? And even if it was, it didn’t make up for anything. If all you can give is the trappings of love, like you’ve bought out a Valentines’ clearance sale but can’t be damned to raise your own child, it doesn’t count.” She sloshes the remains of her drink around with one hand and watches it like she’s reading tea leaves. “So I guess I distrusted all of it. The glitz, the performance, anything. Even the words. Because if you do it right, they should know. But… in the past I’ve been guilty of overcorrecting.”

“Really?” You try to keep your tone teasing. Anything else might alarm her.

She elbows you in the ribs, but not hard. “Sometimes I’ve turned the wheel a bit and drifted over the dividing line between reasonable responses and terrible decisions by a few millimeters.”

“I think a driving instructor might say you sailed over the median, engaged with oncoming traffic, and left the highway entirely for parts unknown. What?” you add. “I’ve read the manual you’re all practicing from.”

“Five dollars says you pass the test before I do. After the timeline John made unhappen, I realized I’d never told you. For all the wrong, stupid reasons. I shouldn’t have let any of that stop me. I would’ve died with that as one of my greatest regrets. So I wanted it to be perfect, since I made you wait so long.” She covers her mouth with one hand and smiles through her fingers. “God, you should see my search history. I watched promposal videos, although I wiped all that data and I’ll deny it if you tell anyone. And here we are –” she pauses and shakes her head - “in a gas station parking lot. But you know what? I think it fits.” She slings an arm around your shoulders and plants a sticky kiss on your cheek. “I love you. Let’s make it count.”

This is what you have learned from dating Rose Lalonde. Expect your lives to accumulate the clutter of experiences together – receipts and stolen shirts and empty packages still streaked with frosting. Expect to make missteps, because the two of you are walking an uncharted path one step after another. Sometimes you fall, fight your demons, and climb back up again. You are all doing this for the first time.

Expect her to say she loves you in unexpected ways. A new package of lip gloss left on your pillow. A flower pressed between the pages of a heavy book to make it delicate and perfect. Occasionally, the words.

Make it count.

[jangbyul]

I was debating whether I should post this here but i decided that I would because more than anything I want to be able to remember this experience and for those who continue to read this post, maybe it can provide them with more insight on how things operate at Kpop concerts. also, I hope this post can provide some laughter and that whoever reads it, will fall in love with vixx even more because heck I sure did <3 

warning: the following blurbs you are about to read contains many many grammatical error and may not even make sense because I wrote it after the concert at around 2am in an attempt to remember everything so please bear with me OTL I also didn't go into too much detail about the format and setlist because I mainly wanted to remember the things VIXX did and their cute interactions with one another. enjoy! 

----

Rehearsal

They came out in their casual clothes and omg they looked so freaking fluffy!!! And can I just say that they have such amazing skin like holy they didn’t have makeup on but they still looked pretty and glowy and flawless like how? Hongbin was in this navy long zip hoodie and a plain white shirt paired with blacked jeans? Damn he looked so good in such a simple outfit! Poor bb looked so sleepy though :( hyukkie omg I feel bad because I don’t remember exactly what he was wearing but I think he was wearing a white shirt as well? I was too focused on him being adorable and teasing Leo haha so they performed 2 songs during rehearsal - good night and good morning as well as dynamite and during dynamite hyuk playfully tapped Leo’s cap xD so yeah Leo was wearing a baseball cap with Chicago on it? And his outfit was mostly white, I would say his was the most laid back for sure! Ravi was in a black tee and black pants and a black beanie as well (all black lol) i am sad to say that Ravi looked tired as well and didn’t smile much but he still killed his rap parts though! Next is hakyeon! That boy was dressed up looking chic as hell! He was also in an all black outfit but he had a leather? jacket on and black skinny jeans. He looked like he was in a good mood because he smiled quite often and said some things to the audience. Last but definitely not least is jaehwan. He was in a black hoodie which this scary picture of a doll on it lol as well as black jeans. He was sooo freaking smiley and there were times where he kinda bounced around on stage? He waved a lot to the audience and when rehearsal was over he was the last to leave the stage ^_^

Actual concert

this was such a blur! I was so sad we were only allowed to record 3 songs so I don’t even have a video for on and on (which is my fave song). But they all killed it! 100% killlllled it and they sound just as good live as they do on their CDs, no joke. since Im a hongbin stan I glued my eyes to him the majority of the time but seriously when it comes to dancing, hakyeon draws so much attention. Just the way he effortlessly moves and theres just so much passion when he dances. I couldn’t help but stare *_* jaehwan dances with a lot of power and confidence and he might not be the main dancer but I still think he did an amazing job! hyuk when he dances he’s freaking MANhyuk! he also has a lot of power when he dances like I don’t know how to explain it like his moves are just so intricate? hongbin my precious bean sweated so much LOL it was to the point that he grabbed a towel every chance he got and turned away from the crowd to wipe it xD I could tell he was super focused when dancing and damn he moves fast like one sec he was on the left side of the stage and then the next he was already on the floor on the right side of the stage! Judging by the amount of sweat and how he kept wiping his upper lip cuz of the sweat, he really worked hard <3 (he also freaking did a lip lick thing that drove me into a frenzy ugh) during to us, all the fans held up a banner and just enjoyed the song together. it was such a good feeling, to have so many starlights in one room and have vixx right in front of us ;;;;

Apart from the songs they also did this interactive-ish thing with us! Like prior to going into the concert we were allowed to write something we would like them to do on a sticky (ex. Jaehwan please do aegyo) etc and so hyuk designated himself to be the “MC” and how it worked was that each member would choose one of the stickies for the member on their right. Leo chose first and he chose one for jaehwan and what he had to do was sing a part from his musical. He did so without using his mic and at that moment I knew exactly what an angel sounded like *_* everyone in the crowd was in awe that I think we cheered too early because it looked like jaehwan wanted to continue still but stopped and clapped and then went back to his seat. Hakyeon even pointed out that the crowd was just waiting to scream because we went from “ahhhhh” to “WOOOOOODFGDFGDFGD” real quick haha next jaehwan chose a sticky for hakyeon! He took his time choosing and hakyeon actually got off his seat and went up to jaehwan (I guess to make sure he isn’t choosing something too difficult for hakyeon to do lol) and while jaehwan was choosing he beatboxed a little which drove us insane <3 hyuk said somethings like “oh choose for your love N, you bro N, your mother father N” XDD jaehwan finally chose one which was also for hakyeon to perform a song from his upcoming musical? I wasn’t too sure if it was from a musical because the translator there sucked lol hakyeon said he had to prep because he doesn’t rmr some lines but in the end he sang beautifully like he never ceases to amaze me with his voice that is just so suitable for ballads & lullabies yenno he kept going until hyuk had to intervene and tell him to stop he still kept going and it got crazy when ken started singing as well haha such cuties!! Anyway so next hakyeon chose for hongbin and omgosh I saw my sticky and was really hoping hakyeon would choose it but he didn’t OTL i wrote it for hongbin, asking if he could sing a ballad because precious bb has a lovely voice and deserves to sing more! In the end hakyeon chose one in which hongbin had to do aegyo and boy did he struggle! The first time he did it it was pretty quick but still adorable nonetheless because his voice went all high pitched eeee so hyuk actually made him do it a second time and it was slightly longer and his voice went from high back to his usual lowish voice cuz he got so embarrassed.. hongbin said something and the translator said hongbin was sad because starlights didn’t understand his true feelings TT I guess he really didn’t want to do aegyo :( hongbin chose for Ravi and my Rabin feels were reignited because hongbin took two stickies and allowed Ravi to choose one! Ravi chose to also do aegyo I think? And he ended up doing the “oppa song”??? some cute music played and Ravi had to do aegyo to it but it seems like he was prepared and did it without hesitating that even the members joked and commented that he was really good at it LOL our Ravi may be the badass rapper and has tats to prove it....but he is too cute when he wants to be :3

Somewhere in there Ravi had to do an eye battle with hakyeon and lol hakyeon was so pumped and ready, being so confident he was gonna win and had that smug look on his face while provoking ravi by playfully hitting him on the chest. In the end hakyeon did win (but I feel like thats because he purposely made Ravi blink HAHA). Ravi chose for hyuk and hyuk had to dance to chained up double speed! That of course was too easy so it got ramped up to triple speed and I think later to quadruple speed?? Triple/quadruple speed was hella fast and hyuk was moving so fast that by the end of it he was so exhausted and joked that he can never do a concert again! He looked a bit frazzled afterwards so ken was like are you ok??? Oh yeah and we somehow got ken to do triple/quadruple speed as well but he didn’t even try to go super fast because srsly it’s killer! Hyuk was still recovering so Leo asked if he could chose his own and hyuk let him. Leo chose to perform a bit of whisper with Ravi!!!!! It was just the chorus but they did a bit of the chore and leo sang without the music and Ravi rapped without the music as well *_* because leo cheated by basically making it into a joint mission with Ravi, hyuk later chose another sticky for leo LOL this required leo to write each of the members name with his belly button xD poor leo didn’t want to do it at all and kept saying its weird!! He struggled so much and actually did his signature collapse onto the floor dying from embarrassment HAHA he managed to complete it but he did so by moving his entire body across he stage like he sat right next to hyuk on the right side but by the end of it he was all the way to the left side standing right in front of Ravi haha ken and hyuk demonstrated that you don’t have to move ur entire body but just your upper body xD then they wrapped up that segment and performed some more songs! after the final song when they were bowing and exiting the stage, ken did not want to leave and kept waving and blowing kisses ahhh those bbkins <333 hongbin legit had to come out, and drag him off the stage LOL then hongbin popped back out and did a heart with his hands ahhhh

I also just wanted to note that jaehwan was just a ball of sunshine throughout the entire concert. He constantly waved enthusiastically and smiled his puppy smile. he was just so playful and when fans shouted I love you to him he would immediately say I love you too back and jokingly act like yeah the fans love me most XD jaehwan definitely climbed up my bias list after this and I’m just so glad I got to witness his playful humorous side in real life. it made me think back to vixx’s reality shows and how the members always mention that theyre thankful for ken because ken jokes around and does his best to lighten up the mood after a stressful day ;A; Hyuk also made such a big effort speaking English to us and although it was just short sentences, I was still extremely proud of him and thankful that he made that effort <3 hakyeon too said a lot of sweet things to us and his humble self kept thanking us when really we should be thanking him for gracing us with his presence!!!!! Leo kept his cool demeanour for the majority of the concert, It wasn’t until the very last few songs where they came out not in their usual stage outfits that I saw leo being extra smiley and literally jumping and spinning on stage XD he went right next to jaehwan and started jumping with him (KEO IS REAL OK) hakyeon also made sure to go left to right and say bye to the fans and wave! Same with jaehwan hehe hongbin was mainly on the opposite side of me and oh how I wish he was on my side more during the last few songs!

I noticed that jaehwan was the most popular here like so many people I met that day were jaehwan stans hehe Ravi was also really popular and hakyeon too! Whenever hongbin sang I screamed extra hard because I really want him to feel just as loved and appreciated and same goes for hyuk too because those two have so much to offer!

Photo Op

I was such a nervous wreck LOL my friends and I were all strategizing a plan, trying to make sure we’d end up in front of our biases. it was 15 people per group so when it was our group’s turn I legit blanked out and just tried to navigate towards hongbin. So the order was N, Hyuk, Hongbin, Ravi, Ken, and Leo. I stepped onto the stage and was immediately greeted by N’s smiling face and wave. I waved back automatically and seriously couldn’t do anything but wave Lol i was way too stunned by his 6 foot beauty and that small eye contact! *_* I ended up somewhat in front of hongbin but like on the floor and not on a seat but its okay! The photo op was super quick like they took 2 pics and that was only like 20 seconds! the staff rushed us and kept telling us to move move move -.- As we got up to leave I quickly turned back and looked at hongbin and told him I love you ahhhh he looked at me and smiled and waved and that was all I needed to turn into a big pile of mush ffghfghfghf *_* I think I was able to catch eye contact with jaehwan after and I tried to say bye to leo but failed LOL as I got off the stage I still couldn’t believe I was able to muster up the courage to say something to hongbin eeeep! Oh and vixx is known to be giants right so I was expecting them to tower over me because I’m only 5’4…but up close they weren’t as tall as I expected. yeah they were impressive in height but not what I imagined I guess xD But yeah the photo op went by so quickly and I’m praying to god I look somewhat descent in the pictures they took lol rip

Im so sad that the concerts over and you bet I’m going to suffer from PCD for the next few weeks T_T but I’m just so thankful to have been able to experience this and to finally see them live! all the while meeting some pretty awesome people along the way! It was definitely a memorable concert that I hope to remember many years from now :)

[batbloodhoney-blog]

Bringing Up the Bodies

I don’t necessarily have a schedule of when I post a new chapter, I post when I managed to write, which is usually every week. I’m thinking about adding a schedule, sound good? Anyway, thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading and liking and commenting, I truly appreciate it! I really enjoy writing this and plan on writing more, just unsure when I’ll start writing one shots, I have a few on my mind at the moment. Okay, enough blah blah blah, here we go!

Chapter Ten: Now Or Never

Simon made his way through the halls of the Sanctuary, a tray of hot food in his hands, heading to the infirmary. He was seeing Naomi again tonight, a bit excited to show what he had learned from constantly reading the ASL books. He was the one to deliver dinner to Naomi, he made it his duty to see her every night, to make sure she was eating and had company.

She’s growing on me like a damn fungus!

Simon tried his hardest to fight his feelings. These odd ever longing feelings. He knew Negan had his own eye on Naomi, and until Negan said otherwise, Simon was going to spend as much time as he could with her.

He pushed there the infirmary doors, surpassing Carson, “She awake?” Simon asked, peaking through the small foggy partition window on the door.

“She’s reading…” Carson mumbled. “I think it’s Farewell To Arms.”

Simon held back a smile, “She need pills tonight?”

“Already took ‘em,” Carson replied, his eyes stayed on his inventory book. “I’m going to check on Davey. Stubborn bastard keeps tugging at his stitches.”

Simon opened Naomi’s recovery room door, leaving Carson behind, and managed to gain Naomi’s attention. His heart fluttered upon seeing her reading, and then when she looked up at him. She looks different, he thought, she cut her hair or somethin’.

“Got you some grub,” Simon said as Naomi waved at him. “You okay?”

Naomi placed a piece of folded paper in the part of the book and gave him a nod. She set the book aside and began to sign: I’m fine, how are you?

Simon knew what she had signed and it excited him, “I understood that! I’m good, I’m learning more from those books.”

Naomi smiled, her hands flowing: That’s wonderful, you’ll be fluent in no time

Simon chuckled and helped her sit up, placing the tray of food on the small table beside the hospital bed. Naomi thanked him once her hands were free; Simon placed the tray on her lap; “Food is still a little soft, wasn’t sure if you could digest anything heavy yet.”

Naomi felt her ears burn, meaning her blood had yet to reach her cheeks. She was blushing, she couldn’t believe Simon had thought of her, making sure she could eat properly and the fact he was learning sign language.

You’re very sweet, thank you, she signed slowly so he could understand.

Simon rolled his eyes, replying, “We just don’t want you gettin’ sick, kiddo. Eat up and let me show you what I’ve learned.”

Giving a nod, Naomi looked down at the tray and saw chicken noodle soup, made fresh with different vegetables chopped small. Naomi ate while Simon began to show her the new words he learned and asked her if he was doing the signs right. Again, she blushed and nodded approvingly upon most of his gestures, showing him tricks and shorter signs.

They were having a nice, quiet moment to themselves, the room was silent, except for Simon’s laughter every other minute. The two enjoyed their lone company until the door opened, loudly, interrupting Simon mimicking the way she spelled his name with her hands. They both looked up at the door, seeing Negan, Lucille propped on his shoulder, with a smirk on his face.

“Well, would you look at this,” he chuckled as he swaggered in, shutting the door behind him. “Did I interrupt a sleepover?”

Simon frowned while Naomi smiled softly; she shook her head and then grabbed her board. Simon stood from his position at the side of her bed, “I came to check up on her.”

“Ain’t this a cute fuckin’ sight,” Negan snickered, propping Lucille down at his side.

As please as he looked, he didn’t feel all that comfortable with the scene. Simon, his right hand, his closest ally was with the little girl they just found, getting close; it made him feel…angry.

Negan managed to get out his head when he spotted Naomi’s whiteboard, with her slick handwriting; Simon is learning ASL to help us communicate better! I’m helping him! Isn’t that great?

He noticed that even her handwriting made his stomach clench; he was jealous now. Angry and jealous. He could feel the warmth of blood rush through his veins, wanting to get upset with them, but he knew, logically, that he had no right or reason to.

Simon watched his boss, seeing the small hint of anger behind his eyes; he could read Negan better than anyone, they’d been friends awhile before the world seemed to end. He knew Negan was angry, he just didn’t understand why; Did I miss something? Did someone get out or hurt?

“It is great,” Negan pulled a small smile together, fooling both Naomi and Simon. “You’ll be un-fuckin’-stoppable, baby doll.”

Warmth gathered at her cheeks, turning her the small apples of them a soft pink; Negan noticed, chuckling, and letting his anger slide; “Aw, someone is gettin’ better! Can’t wait to get ya outside and more color to ya!”

“Uh,” Simon cut in suddenly, still wondering what was wrong, “did I miss something? Did we have a meeting?”

Negan looked at Simon, his lips turning down, “Nope. Not at all, Simon, my boy, just checkin’ on baby doll here and surprised to find you with her.”

All Simon could do was stare at Negan, unsure of what to say. Naomi could tell by his body language that he was nervous, worried and anxious to leave; she frowned at him, and reached out to touch his wrist. He looked down at her, acknowledging her; he bit at his lip when she began to sign; Are you okay?

Simon gave a nod, “I am. I, uh…it’s gettin’ late, you should get some sleep, huh? Tomorrow, if I’m not busy, I’ll take you out and show you were you can walk.”

Naomi grinned, her thin face seemed to brighten up, making Simon and Negan both smile and give small chuckles. Simon reach over and patted her hand, “Sleep well, kid, I’ll see ya tomorrow,” he then looked at Negan. “I’ll be in my room if you need me, sir.”

Negan hummed, watching Simon take her finished tray of food and head out the room. Once they were alone, Negan moved over to where Simon had been sitting, plopping down with a small exhale, Lucille sat across his lap, “How good is he?” He asked suddenly.

Naomi raised a brow, confused. Negan smirked slightly, “With the sign language stuff.”

Naomi held back a laugh and nodded, understanding, and grabbed her board; He’s great, better at reading my hands than signing back

The smile on her face and the joy in her eyes caused his jealousy to simmer away, but only just a bit. He didn’t like feeling possessive over a girl that he hadn’t rightfully claimed as his own, but in his head, she belonged to him. Simon getting too close made him weary, it made him nervous. He wanted to keep Naomi to himself until she was better and he could properly ask her to be his wife; he didn’t want Simon to sweep her up before he could.

None of this made sense to Negan, but it all did in one part of his brain.

“You like 'im?” Negan questioned suddenly.

Naomi shrugged, writing: He’s very kind and sweet, he’s a great friend, just like you and Margo and Sarai are

Friend. Just a friend, he thought happily, relieved.

“So, baby doll, you don’t need Dwight anymore?” Negan smirked slightly.

Naomi shrugged again; she hadn’t seen Dwight since she first arrived.

“He hasn’t been around,” Negan added quietly, “I guess it’ll be okay if Simon can be our interpreter.”

He’s getting better, Naomi had wrote, he’s a godsend!

Negan frowned a bit; the mention of God never sat well with him. He wasn’t the type to get hung up on religion, but the sudden mention of God made his stomach turn.

“Yeah…” he trailed, “Truly sent from heaven.”

Naomi didn’t notice his frown, she quickly wiped her board clean and began to write, Tell Sarai I said thank you again, she did an amazing job.

This made Negan smile, shaking his head, “Oh, yeah, she did,” he leaned over and ran his fingers through her hair, noticing how soft it now was. “You like it?”

She gave a nod, writing; I love it!

His smile never faltered, “It looks good. Do you feel better?”

I do, she wrote, I owe you all a lot!

Negan shook his head, “Don’t think that way, you don’t owe us anything, alright? You’re a part of this community now and you’re one of us. You do your part, follow the rules, you’ll be happy and live.”

Naomi nodded, smiling just faintly.

“I’ll see you in morning,” Negan stood up. “Get more sleep, you’ll have a full day tomorrow, we need you getting stronger. Simon’s right, you should start walking. Think you can do that?”

She nodded, wanting him to see how determined she was to be one of them, even though Negan had already said she was. Naomi wanted to show it, more than she could write it or sign it out to them. From the nightmares she faced, she wanted to be strong, show everyone she wasn’t just a victim. Her predicament reminded her of before the world went to hell, back in school when she had to show everyone she wasn’t just some poor little, disabled girl who didn’t want to talk.

Negan leaned over again, kissing the top of her head, “Sleep well, baby doll. I’ll bring you breakfast.”

Naomi smiled, thanking him. Negan chuckled, nodding to her, knowing what she signed. He shut the large overhead lights off, leaving just the table side light on and shut the door behind him. Naomi let out a small breath, laying back in the hospital bed, turning to her side and reaching for A Farewell to Arms and began to read.

• “We have to do this tonight!” Sherry hissed. “He wants an answer soon, D!”

Dwight, Sherry and Tina all hid away in the hall closet close to the infirmary. The watchmen had done their rounds and Carson had already checked on the patients and went to his room, a few doors down from the infirmary. It was now or never, they needed to grab the medication and food and leave the Sanctuary.

“But…” Dwight sighed, whispering, “I can’t just go in there! That girl is in there!”

“I’ll go with you,” Tina whispered back. “I’ll keep watch while you grab it. Sherry can get the food and meet us near the hole.”

All afternoon and night they had planned this. Their final get away. They had planned awhile back to steal the insulin, they had found a way out behind the greenhouse when Negan interrupted them. This was now or never.

“I can’t,” Sherry whimpered. “I can’t just–”

“Do it,” Tina hissed harshly at her sister, “me and D will be quick! Just go!”

Sherry swallowed and nodded, taking a moment in the dim hallway closet. She took in a deep breath and slipped out, moving as quickly and quietly as she could towards the kitchen.

For a whole month they had written down everyone’s schedule, every minute calculated. Sherry started it once she realized she and Dwight barely made enough points to survive together, so she knew her little sister wouldn’t make it by herself. Tina was getting sicker and Sherry couldn’t take it any longer, she couldn’t watch her sister die, and she didn’t want her sister to be one of Negan’s women.

Tina didn’t like the thought either. She hated to think she’d be used as a sex toy and tossed aside just for medication. The entire deal reminded her of prostitution, and she knew her mother and father would be ashamed of her if she let herself go down that path. She rather steal than be a "whore”.

“Ready?” Dwight whispered to Tina, wondering if she was actually ready. She looked deep in thought, a bit scared and hesitant, but once she looked back at him, she had such determination in her eyes.

“Yes,” Tina nodded quickly.

The pair slipped from the closet, tip toeing towards the infirmary office. Tina went in first, Dwight right behind her; so far they managed to get in quietly, no sound came from their movements. They stopped at the main recovery room, where they could see Naomi asleep on her left side, away from the medicine cabinets.

“I’ll watch her, make sure she doesn’t move,” Tina assured Dwight.

Dwight was having sudden second thoughts. Should we really be doing this? He’ll kill us if he catches us.

“D?” Tina called to him a little louder.

Dwight let his love for his sister-in-law and his wife override his fear of Negan. He gave a nod, “Lets go.”

Tina turned the knob, opening the door slowly, hearing it creak as she inched it open. The sound didn’t wake or stir Naomi, she was in a deep sleep, and even so, she would barely hear the quiet creaks. Her bedside light was still on, her book rested between her fingers on her left side where she had last read.

Once the door was opened, they crept in, pushing the stop down to keep it open, moving towards the right side of the room towards the cabinet. Tina moved back, standing beside Naomi’s hospital bed, praying she wouldn’t wake. Dwight had told her what little he knew about Naomi; she was deaf but could hear just a little. She had been brutalized and could barely walk; Tina wondered if she would need medication too and end up in the same position. Tina had hoped not, she wouldn’t wish this predicament on her worst enemy.

Dwight was struggling to find the medication he had sworn he saw Dr. Carson pull from a certain drawer to give another person insulin. He shuffled as quietly as he could, feeling his body grow anxious and fearful, mentally praying no one would come in. He struggled, searching each drawer until he got to the bottom cabinet and opened it, finding the fresh vials from the fridge in the other room. The vials were the patients who came in early in the morning to get their shot; Dwight hadn’t felt so damn relieved in his entire life.

“Tina,” Dwight called over his shoulder, whispering. “Give me the foil bag!”

Tina pulled the hidden bag from under her shirt and tossed it to Dwight. She felt a smile tug at her lips, feeling excited and happy, knowing it was almost over. Turning towards Dwight, she watched as he stuffed vial after vial and needles into the bag. The foil bag would keep them cool for as long as possible, keep them from turning bad; they weren’t sure how long they would last, but they would last a while.

Dwight and Tina were finished; Dwight closed the cabinet doors and gestured toward the door. As they prepared to leave, the door suddenly shut closed, loud and startling, causing them both to jump. Their eyes grew large, staying still as they waited for something; they knew it was over then, they were screwed.

“Fuck,” Dwight breathed.

Tina held her breath, waiting; that’s when they heard it. Naomi stirring up and letting out a soft sigh. She sat up, rubbing her eyes with her left hand lazily. As she opened her eyes more to see who had come in, she jumped upon seeing two people she didn’t recognize. She recognized Dwight once he turned and faced her; Naomi frowned, her brows furrowed.

Tina crept back towards her, placing a finger to her lips, “Please. Please,” she pleaded.

Naomi raised her hands, gesturing towards Dwight; What’s going on?

Dwight swallowed thickly, gaining her full attention. Before he could reply back, he heard Tina grunt and then a sharp whip, the light shutting off. Dwight gasped, “What the hell?”

“I-I…” Tina couldn’t say anything, dropping the lamp she had struck Naomi in the head with.

The room was dark, but the window to the left of the room let in just a sliver of white lighting from the moon in. Dwight rushed towards Tina’s darkened figure, “What happened?”

“I hit her,” Tina’s voice quivered. “I hit her with the lamp.”

Dwight almost dropped the bag, but knew this was it, their final, last chance. He grabbed Tina’s wrist and pulled her towards the door, not saying a word. He yanked her out of the recovery room, out the infirmary and dragged her down the hall. Tina could barely move, shocked with what she had done; she couldn’t believe she hurt someone…

@negans-network @melodicdolls @dunne31 @haleyea @miiraal @movieholic92 @alyisdead