#i wonder if other people have thoughts like this i think that it makes me sound like a crazy manipulator .

[buck-star]

Valentines sparkle

Overhearing a conversation between two girls, Logan doubts himself a lot more than he should. Trying to have you see and feel the sparkle of Valentine’s Day.

Pairing: Worst!Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Wordcount: 2.082 Words

Warnings/Tags: fluff, softness, insecurity, mention of past sexual content, petname [trouble, baby]

Authors Note: Thought about a little something for the Event Loveuary by @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt, so here you are. Have fun and enjoy. There are one or two scenes where I could definitely think about a little something, if someone is interested. Divider made by me.

Events: Sweetheart Bingo [Row One-One | I’m yours]

Masterlist | Logan Howlett Masterlist

His eyes roam over the aisles of the shop; everywhere is pink and red stuff, heart-shaped or with hearts and flowers on them. His heart clenches as he notices another girl with her best friend walking to the little spot with chocolate and little boxes made for rings or cards — concerts, trips, everything.

“Maybe he’s asking me then. I saw he looked at these little boxes last time we went shopping. And today he went out, telling me he has to get something from the office. The office isn’t open today,” she says with a wide grin on her face. Her best friend giggles slightly, looking at the boxes as well; her eyes light up when she sees a small one she likes.

“Hopefully I will be that one. It’s so pretty,” she mumbles and lifts a small box in a heart-shaped form with small roses all over it. She holds it almost in her friend's face, who’s looking through the others to find her favorite. “Does he even know what you like? I mean, he’s a man after all, isn’t he?”

Both of them laugh. The girl who’s talking about her boyfriend nods. She’s reaching for another little box and holding it out. It’s a rose-shaped box, and there are a few little roses too. “He does, mostly. But look at this box; you can let them engrave your names in it.”

They put the boxes away again but keep standing there. The girl who’s pretty sure her boyfriend is going to ask her to marry him points at a few more things, telling her friend she needs that too. While her friend always shows other stuff that she likes and keeps asking if the man really knows what her friend likes.

“Lo? Baby?” Your soft voice comes from behind him when you place some sweets and drinks in the cart in front of Logan. He’s turning around, a slight frown on his face, but he tries to force a smile on his lips and nods. “Hey, you good? You look… I don’t know, confused, unsure?”

“Mhm, ‘m fine, trouble,” he grumbles and turns back to the cart and shoves it in front of himself through the aisle. You walk next to him, keeping a close eye on your boyfriend, who does not look as good as he tries to pretend. “Need something else?”

You shake your head and lead him to the cashiers. Logan nods; he’s not too much into shopping, and the conversation between these two women made him feel uncomfortable. An aching feeling in his chest while he thinks about the relationship with you.

“Baby, can you please—“ you giggle when you pull the cart closer to you. He narrows his eyes, looking at you, then at the cashier, and nods. Logan didn’t notice his tight grip around the cart or that he remained in his spot while the people before you already walked out of the shop.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and helps you with the groceries. You notice Logan’s narrowed eyes, his lips in a thin line, and his jaw clenched harshly. It’s a wonder that he doesn’t crush the eggs he’s holding in his hands, or the bottle he’s handing you.

You stay quiet, not wanting to make him feel more uncomfortable. So you just pay and let him push the cart out of the shop to the truck. He’s grumbling under his breath, his knuckles turning white with the force he’s using to hold the handle of the cart.

“Lo, you know, whatever it is that bothers you, you can talk to me. You don’t have to break the cart to get out of your mood, and you don’t have to swallow it all,” you say softly, placing your hand on his thick, hairy arm. His green eyes drop to your hand; he loves how small your hand looks compared to his arm, but he keeps his cold expression. Logan lets his eyes trail down your arm, over your shoulder to your face. His eyes lock with yours, and he nods.

“I know, trouble,” he whispers. Of course, he knows. You sit down at night with him to make sure he knows that he’s not alone. You’re staying up all night with him when he has nightmares and is afraid to get back to sleep. “But it’s nothin’.”

You nod, not convinced by him, but you don’t want to push either. So you just put the groceries in the car. Logan keeps grumbling and mumbling under his breath, his eyes moving back and forth between the shop and you, but he doesn’t say a word.

The drive back home is quiet except for the music, the only sound next to the engine that fills the car. Logan acts like he’s focused on the street, even though you feel his eyes on you every now and then. They are piercing, intense, and something is bringing deep inside of them, a fire he doesn’t dare to let out.

His lips part, but he stays quiet. You look out of the window, watching the people and houses pass by. Logan and you live outside of town, in a little wooden house that offers the two of you a comforting and relaxing place without too many people around.

He parks the car and gets out; you follow him. Logan’s intense stare is still on you when you grasp two of the paper bags to carry them inside. He does the same, but instead of just two paper bags he takes six and brings them into your shared house.

Shopping with your boyfriend is pretty easy since he can carry so much more, and you don’t have to walk back and forth to carry all the groceries. You kick the door closed and shrug off your jackets and shoes, walking into the kitchen where Logan is already unpacking all the groceries.

“Trouble?” He asks, his voice shaking slightly, and he keeps his back to you. You hum, letting him know he can continue talking. “‘M sorry. I just… I got lost in my thoughts.”

“I know, you’re an open book for me, baby,” you reply, walking over to him. You wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind while you push your head underneath his arm to look up at him.

Logan looks down, smiling softly at you. You’re just too adorable when you do that. His heart skips a beat, but the flutter is soon replaced with the heavy uncertainty again. “There were two girls who talked about one of the girl's boyfriend. She said she thinks he’s asking her to marry him, and her friend asked her to… if he even knows her because he’s a man,” Logan whispers, turning around in your warm embrace to face you. You’re tilting your head up, listening intensely to your boyfriend. “I don’t want to disappoint you with not getting engaged on Valentine's Day… and I… I don’t know if you… thought I would ask you to, or if I know you to buy you something you would like; I’m a man too.”

You chuckle softly; this man is just too adorable for his own good. “I don’t expect you to ask anything like that, Lo. I don’t even expect a present from you for Valentine’s Day or any other event,” you say softly, bringing your hands to his firm chest.

“But I wouldn’t even know what you like anyway,” he grumbles, doubting himself. Even though he should know better, even though you know better, you let him speak without interrupting him. “I’m your boyfriend; I should give you something. I should know what you love, what I could get you as a present.”

You smile, snaking your hands from his chest up to capture his cheeks and pull him down, his face only inches away from yours. “You remember what you got me for Christmas?”

Logan’s lips curl into a soft smile, and he nods his head immediately. His green eyes light up, and he grabs your waist tightly, pulling you closer. “This big stuffed animal, it doesn’t even fit in our bed, but you love it, trouble. Of course, I know what I gave you for Christmas; how could I forget that sweet smil—“

His eyes widen when he notices; he knows you. Logan knows what you like. He gave you a present for Christmas that made your smile bigger than he has ever seen a smile and your eyes were brighter than the sun when you unwrapped it.

“I know you… I know what you like; that’s why you mean?” He asks. You nod with a soft grin on your lips. “But that’s different; you told me you liked it. But—“

“You don’t have to read my thoughts, Lo,” you mumble. Logan shakes his head; he would love to read your thoughts. He would love it to make sure you always get what you want.

“But… even though I know what you like. Or you tell me what you like. Celebrating such a day…? It feels just like I don’t deserve to celebrate it. I don’t think I deserve you, and yet we want to celebrate it?”

“We don’t have to. We can also spend the day like every other day,” you say softly, but Logan shakes his head. He doesn’t want to disappoint you. Maybe you wouldn’t be, but he would be at himself for acting like it’s nothing special. “But you deserve love, so much love, so don’t dare to doubt it, Lo. But if you doubt it, then I will prove to you that you’re wrong. Because I love you, every day. Not just on Valentine’s Day.”

“I love you too, but you love special days; you love Valentine’s Day…” he mumbles, remembering the conversation you had on a date where you saw some hearts and roses, and it reminded you of Valentine's Day. You confess that the sparkle of the day wasn’t there since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up, but you still liked the thought of it and hoped someone would bring back the sparkle one day. “I want to bring back the startle for you. I want to be the one who gives you a reason to love Valentine’s Day, to love every day with me.”

“I love every day with you.”

“Trouble… I want to make it a special day. So shut up and be good for me,” Logan grumbles, a soft smile on his plump lips. “Do you remember the little cabin with the sauna and the hot tub?”

You nod with a grin; the sauna and the hot tub were a lot of fun in every way you can think of having fun with Logan. “Mhm… how can I not after having to clean the whole sauna because someone thought about spilling his cum everywhere but where he said he wanted it to be?”

Logan blushes, his fingers digging further into your skin, and he leans his head down. “You’re playing with fire, trouble.”

“It’s true. You said you want—“ you tease with a smile but get interrupted by Logan, who narrows his eyes slightly. He digs his fingers further into your skin, pulling you closer with a low grumble in his chest.

“How about we keep your pretty mouth shut before I have to stuff it?” Logan growls, pressing his plump lips on yours to shut you up. You chuckle, kissing him back softly while you try to push your tongue through his lips. Logan groans into your mouth, not letting you dominate him in the slightest. “We are spending Valentine’s Day in that cabin, in that hot tub, in that sauna. With movies, sunsets, sunrises, and food. Maybe some chocolate and ice cream, too.”

And so you do; you spend Valentine’s Day with Logan in that pretty cabin. Most of the day in either the hot tub or the sauna with Logan buried inside of you. Or on the couch in his arms while he turns on one cheesy movie after the other. Logan even asked you to let him help you cook the dinner for the two of you, even though he spent most of the time kissing your neck and keeping his strong arms tightly around your waist while he mumbles praises about how good you feel and how perfect you are. And yes… he helps you to bring back the sparkle of Valentine’s Day, not just for you, but also for himself.

Wanna see some more of Logan and Trouble? Let me know if you have any ideas.

Taglist: @rogersbarber @loki-laufeyson68 @etherealdisneyvillainness @winterschildren8 @pono-pura-vida @kimmie113080 @sergeantbarnessdoll @sebastianstanisahotmf @mercurial-chuckles @holylulusworld @randomawesomeperson102 @looking1016 @multiversefanfics @kpopgirlbtssvt @disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @alexxavicry @gremlin-girly @grilledcheesewithjalapeno @iris-xoxo-juhu @fckedupandbeautiful @hisredheadedgoddess28 @princesscore-angel @fandomxo00 @blackhawkfanatic [tag yourself]

[imsofreakingtired]

I am so so so so sorry if this is too close to nsfw (in my head it's very fluff/comfort but I apologise if it makes you uncomfortable bc I'm not sure), but thinking about Sevika w/ a partner who's been pressured by their ex's into doing things like sexually and her just reassuring them that like no baby I wanna hold you what r you talking ab I've been here all of 15 seconds I'm not tryna fuck calm down

And her partner who is so so surprised wdym ??? You just wanna spoon me isn't this the part where you grope my chest and Sevika is like BABY NO

I don't know I'm using her to cope this is so self indulgent I just wanna hear your thoughts on it

i love this idea, thank you for the request anon...and shitt this one was so personally relatable to me 😔

things i wanna say to you

content warning(s): mentions of trauma from past relationships, angst, hurt/comfort

"there's things i wanna say to you, but i'll just let you live like if you hold me without hurting me you'll be the first who ever did."

~~~

“Your beauty…it’s a blessing.”

It’s a sentence that returns and returns to you. It’s a truth you hold in your hands, or wear on your shoulders like a mantle you can’t take off. You have heard it, in one form or another, from the lips of lover to lover. They whispered it to you in the heat of sex, like a special confession only for you, and then vanished like a vapor. 

Your body is like a hotel, you think—a pretty room that people pass through and love only in the moment. When was the last time you were held without the other person’s hands hungrily seeking your breasts? When was the last time you were kissed without their hands roaming your body like an impatient, starved animal? 

Once, you had worked up the courage to confront them. You told them, “hands off.” You don’t exactly remember how the conversation went. But you know that it ended in them laughing in your face, suggesting you work at Babette’s if you wanted compensation for your body. 

When they were gone, you stood in the silent room and wondered if they were right. You wondered if it was your fault. If your body was the only good thing, the only worthy thing about you. If you were nothing more than a pretty face and a blank canvas waiting to be ruined. If you were asking too much when you asked for even just a shadow of respect. 

You stopped speaking after that. 

~~~

Shortly after you began to work for Silco as his record scribe, you met his henchwoman, Sevika. Immediately you knew she was different. She didn’t look at you the way others did—in fact, she barely looked at you at all. When she spoke to you she looked down at you over her hooked nose, her handsome, perfect nose, in a way that made you feel both insignificant and the only woman in the entire world. She didn’t give you flattery about your appearance, spoke bluntly when you made mistakes. 

Still you caught her staring at you from time to time when she thought you were too immersed in work to notice. But her face betrayed nothing. Her brows were always drawn together as if everything in the world annoyed her. You assumed she was only scrutinizing the way you worked. You wondered if Silco had ordered her to monitor you, assess your performance. You worked harder as a result, feeling oddly gratified to be watched for a reason other than your appearance. 

So one could imagine your shock when Sevika strode up to your desk one morning and said, “get your coat. Walk with me.” 

From that day on, you were hers. 

~~~

The first night you moved into her apartment had been a hard day at work. You had been at the desk all day without a single break, trying frantically to keep up with the endless flow of Shimmer shipment records and orders. Sevika had been on her feet from dawn to dusk—you hadn’t seen her for two consecutive minutes even though you worked in the same building. 

The night had deepened, the sky outside dusted with faint stars. You were undressing for bed. If you were tired, how exhausted must Sevika be? You paused in front of the mirror before you slipped the nightshirt over your body. Maybe she would want to let off some steam. Maybe she expected it from you. Hesitantly, you put the nightshirt on. You didn’t want to, but you felt like you owed it to her. Like she deserved it.

Sevika came in, her mechanical arm detached and water glistening on her face from a quick wash. She smiled slightly when she saw you waiting on the bed. “There’s my girl. C’mere.”

She sank into the bed you now shared with her, and obediently you crawled over and folded yourself into her embrace. Her right arm curled around you protectively. Her warmth, her strength, the tautness of her muscles against your skin. It was heavenly. 

She sighed into your neck, and it made you shiver slightly. The question tiptoed to the end of your tongue: can we…can we maybe just stay like this? 

But you feared she would say no. You feared she would be mad. And leave you. 

You waited for her to make the next move, to start pulling the shirt over your head, or turn you around so she could grope between your legs. When several seconds passed and she did nothing, you realized that maybe she was waiting for you. 

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself away and began to take off your shirt. 

Sevika sat up, confused. “What are you doing?”

You freeze in your movements. Your shirt falls back down over your chest. “I—you don’t want to…?”

She shook her head, lips curling in a bemused smile. “Baby, relax. I’ve been here fifteen seconds.”

Slowly, you returned to her, and she pulled you close once more. Sevika felt the shudder of relief that went through your body. Though you didn’t see it, her face creased with concern. She had noticed the apprehension in your eyes, nearly bordering on fear. And she made a mental note to herself to find whatever fucker had hurt you and made you so scared. 

~~~

[odoraful]

𝑺𝑵𝑶𝑾𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑳𝑫 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑲 ᯓ 𝒁𝑨𝒀𝑵𝑬

the physician does not open his grand estate to visitors, however, he makes an exception for a special someone he’s known since childhood

⟡ content: reader is addressed as 'miss'; regency era inspired (certainly not historically accurate); reader and zayne are awkward yearners for each other; 3.5k wc

⟡ a/n: the mr darcy to zayne pipeline is very real to me !! did i watch pride and prejudice for the 234th time because of this? yes i did hehe i hope you enjoy mwah!

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Whilst many other gentleman in the country wished to show off their homes to display their refinement to the public, the solitary owner of Snowfield Park could not think of anything more undesirable. It was truly a shame, though. The estate had received its name from how picturesque it looked during the winters. Fresh snow fell in perfectly smooth blankets around the property, and dusted the foliage of trees as if intentionally painted on by an artist. When morning light emerged, and the snow began to melt away, the grand home would sparkle like sequins on a debutante’s dress.

Those who travelled past Snowfield Park could only admire it from a distance when heading to the next town over—rolling along on their carriages or leisurely walking by. What a waste it was, they all thought, to not allow visitation from guests and host lavish balls as often as one could. They all wondered whether the owner was even in his right mind.

He is a physician, that is the reason. He hardly has time to indulge in what he believes are frivolities.

A physician? How noble! He must be someone of great intelligence.

Indeed. I believe his name is Dr Zayne.

Quite the severe fellow I must admit. I remember during the last ball, the gentleman did nothing but loiter and offered a dance to no one.

Merely loitering? Goodness, has there truly been no one that has caught the man’s eye?

I wonder who is fortunate enough to be acquainted with him and be allowed visitation to such a place.

That was how many of the conversations that passed Snowfield Park went. Little did people know, other than the owner’s most immediate family, there was one other special person who the owner invited over.

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“Miss, you’re telling me you’re acquainted with the gentleman residing in Snowfield Park?” the driver of your carriage asked, speaking each word in disbelief.

You nodded. “Yes, I am.”

Your body also bobbed along with each trod of the horse. The carriage was open air, only able to seat two people, yourself and the driver. Much to your chagrin, your plain reply left the driver guffawing.

“You sure you’re not one of the many admirers trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive man?”

Glancing at the driver’s side profile, you could see him wiggle his brows. The driver was a young man, barely out of his teenage years, who had a penchant for dramatics.

“Certainly not!” you exclaimed, more defensive than your intended.

If the driver had not been so focused on the path ahead, he would have seen your cheeks turn pink.

“We have been good friends since childhood,” you asserted, “and just happened to drift apart when he went to university to study, that is all.”

The driver gave a sound of understanding, though, he still seemed unconvinced by your explanation.

It was completely true though. Your families lived in neighboring estates, and they endeavored to meet often when they found out they had children of similar ages. Many of your memories in youth had Zayne in them. Reading together in your grandmother’s study (Zayne reading aloud the narration, and you tasked with the dialogue for the characters), foraging for flowers and cataloguing them in your shared notebook, practicing your piano forte whilst Zayne completed anatomy sketches (with you often as the subject).

When he went to study medicine, you both sent letters to each other in those initial months. However, with your desire to seek your own passions (and your grandmother’s concerns over your entrance into society), and Zayne’s own pursuit of his career, the length of time between letters grew longer and longer.

Head swimming with memories, you stared off into the countryside. Tall trees that lined the dirt path segmented the bright afternoon sunlight as the carriage rolled past a long stretch of river. Far, far ahead, you saw a glimpse of Snowfield Park. No other details could be made out aside from that it was an impressive estate. You wondered if you could predict Zayne’s taste in design. Surely there would be a well maintained garden and a wide staircase leading to the front doors.

The driver could not ride fully into Snowfield Park as he had business in the next town he needed to attend to. You happily agreed to being dropped off a little ways before, just as the trees began to clear. The weather was pleasant, and it would take no longer than half an hour to walk. The driver pulled on the reins, causing the horses to slow to a stop. He hopped off first, moving to your side to assist you in getting down.

“Thank you,” you said as you smoothed out the skirt of your dress with your hands.

He gave an exaggerated bow. “You’re most welcome, miss. I hope Mr Zayne treats you well,” he winked, then hoisted himself back up onto the carriage.

Waving him goodbye, the carriage went on ahead to the next town over.

You were still quite a ways from the estate itself, left with a distance of grassy field to cross before it transformed into neatly sanded paths and a garden. Though, it was too small from where you were to make out any details. Thankfully, you enjoyed to walk.

As you set off, you checked the small purse dangling from your wrist. It contained your personal belongings, including the very thing that summoned you to Snowfield Park to begin with. A letter from Zayne lay neated folded inside.

Taking a deep breath, you began your journey on foot.

The closer you walked, and the more the house expanded in your view, the greater your heart twisted in your chest.

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Zayne’s home was even grander in real life than what you had imagined.

There was certainly a garden. One that stretched out well beyond the home’s facade, with neatly trimmed hedges, pristine white flowers and a three-tiered marble fountain. You walked through, gently reaching out to touch the petals of flowers. And there was certainly a staircase. Two to be exact, lined with railings carved from stone supported by miniature pillars. Both were built from the ground floor up to the first level, creating separate entryways from two different levels.

The estate was meticulously maintained and so peaceful. Only the wind and the trickle of water from the fountain could be heard. This type of serenity seemed fitting for Zayne.

You chose to walk up the stairs, heading toward the main entrance with ornate double doors. Your breath grew uneven with each step. It was inexplicable how rattled your nerves were at that very moment. What could possibly rouse your anxiety? You did not harbor any ill feelings towards Zayne. Quite the contrary, in fact. Back then, and even now, despite the length of time without contact, you were fond of him.

Rationalizing all this in your mind, you tried to bury your nervousness just as you reached the front doors. Grasping the knocker, you gave three firm knocks, hoping it sufficient enough to signal any occupants of Snowfield Park.

You readied yourself if Zayne himself would open the door for you. It was unlikely, but not entirely impossible. Typically, there would be servants that would initially greet guests. But, perhaps, the owner of the estate would alter convention for an old friend.

The door swung open and you subconsciously held your breath.

The person by the door seemed a bit older than you. She wore a simple dress with an apron tied around it, hair held back by a white bonnet. You exhaled. Conventions remain ever unchanging, you thought, putting on a shy smile.

“Uhm, good afternoon, my name is Y/N. I’m here to visit Mr Zayne.”

The lady looked you over up and down with her discerning eyes. Her brief inspection completed, her skeptical gaze gave way to a warm and inviting grin.

“Please come in! Mr Zayne has been expecting your arrival.”

You relaxed with relief, stepping in and getting a first look at Snowfield Park that many so desired to.

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Compared to your own abode with your family, the interior of this seemed to be fit for royalty.

The room had gold framed portraits of various people and landscapes hung on its cream colored walls. Ornate gold decorations filled the bare spaces in between each painting, reminiscent of leaves which curved and stretched towards the ceiling. The sunlight pouring through the large windows made each metallic embellishment shine. Tables held bronze candelabras with unlit candles and vases with arrangements of different florals. Lounges and chairs with navy upholstery lined the edges of the room, ideal places to sit and idle. Beyond you and to your sides were open archways, where you saw a peek of the winding staircases that led deeper into the home.

You tried your best to not just stand there slack-jawed at the entrance and follow the servant further inside. Was this really the estate that Zayne owned? The same Zayne who picked carrots off his plate at dinnertime and spent his allowance at the candy store in town?

The servant let you catch up to her in center of the room. She leaned in close to whisper, even though you were the only people in this vast space.

“Miss, just between you and me, Mr Zayne has been quite restless these past few days.”

“Restless?” you frowned. “Whatever for?”

She nodded towards you. Her implication that you were the object of Zayne’s anxieties made you even more confused.

“You must be a very special person to rattle him like that. He’s been pacing around, inspecting and re-inspecting all the furnishings in every room, buying fresh linens for your guest quarters.”

She then chuckled. “Quite frankly, it’s refreshing to see such a side of him since he’s so often busy with his work.”

“Speaking of, that is what he is currently occupied with now. I’ll let him know that you’re here.”

The servant curtsied to you before rushing through one of the archways. The sound of her footsteps on tiled floors retreated.

There was nothing to do but wait, and so you did.

You took a turn around the room, admiring the paintings of unfamiliar people and unfamiliar landscapes. Did Zayne know who these individuals were? Had he travelled to different parts of this country? You were now uncertain if the man you would shortly reunite with would even be recognizable to you.

One minute of waiting turned into three, then ten, then fifteen. You could probably recite the arrangement of paintings in the room with how much studying you were doing to fill the time. Looking off ahead of you, the entryways were a silent invitation to explore. Surely the servant wouldn’t mind that you had wandered off a little bit. She certainly hadn’t said anything against doing so.

Your feet moved of their own accord into the entry way ahead of you, eager to see more of the interior of Snowfield Park.

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“Mr Zayne,” Yvonne called as she knocked on the door of the study.

Zayne was penning a letter containing care instructions to the family of one of his patients.

He continued to write as he called out, “You may come in.”

Entering the room, the excitement on Yvonne’s face at being able to announce your arrival was replaced with horror as she saw Zayne.

“Mr Zayne! Have you not changed into your finer clothes yet?”

Zayne glanced up from his writing with a furrow in his brow. He was wearing his night clothes, a simple loose fitting white shirt, pants, and a robe. His dark hair lightly tousled from a restless night of sleep.

“I have not. Y/N isn’t due to Snowfield Park until the afternoon.”

Yvonne gaped at him, her voice high with alarm. “It is the afternoon now, Mr Zayne. And she has arrived not just a moment ago.”

The quill almost fell from Zayne’s grasp at his own shock. It was terribly unlike him to forget the time. His plans of burying himself in his work to keep his mind busy from your arrival had backfired on him.

He immediately stood up. Folding the letter and placing it aside, he strode towards Yvonne.

“She’s here? The time must have escaped me.” He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to steady his composure.

The day that he had perfectly planned had already sidetracked. You were here in his house and he was hiding away in his study in his undergarments. Outfit aside, was there even enough time to ready himself mentally as well? This was the first in a long time that he would be seeing you face-to-face, he hadn’t even thought of what he should say to you.

“Well don’t just stand there all flustered!” Yvonne huffed, piercing through Zayne’s thoughts. “You need to get changed right this instant!”

She scrambled behind Zayne and pushed him out of the study.

“It’s improper to leave such a lovely young lady waiting for so long! Come on now, Mr Zayne!”

He followed Yvonne through the familiar halls of Snowfield Park to his rooms. She spoke her thoughts aloud, deciding on what shirt, waistcoat and cravat would look the most appealing. He agreed with her that navy and white would make a suitable combination, though, Zayne had greater worries aside from the coordination of his clothes.

Five years it had been.

Five years since he went away to study at university and begun working as a physician.

Five long years of being away from you.

Gradually, you two had begun to drift apart like the slow moving of continents over centuries. Starting with a delayed letter, leading to a delayed response. The lengthy time between correspondence began to feel too awkward, leaving words unsaid. Once you had shared all the same experiences together, and now, you had become a fond daydream for Zayne. An occupant of his thoughts whenever the nights got too long for him. How were you? What were you doing now? Were you taking care of your health? Thinking of you seemed to soothe him.

That was why when there was a listing for an estate in the same village you both grew up in, he hardly hesitated in his decision to purchase it. Internally, he also saw it as a sign. If this were to be the place were he settled down, he knew he needed to invite you to visit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Snowfield Park could have easily been mistaken for a museum if one were to end up in the room you were in now. Not only were there more paintings hung on the walls, much like the entry hall, but there were sculptures, antiques and other unique trinkets on display as well. All were neatly spread out, with brass plaques beneath to provide a description of the piece. Too fascinated by the space, you forgot how much waiting time passed since the servant left.

One piece in particular caught your eye.

A sculpted bust of a man sat atop a pedestal, raising it up to your eye level. With a straight bridged nose and stern brows, the face would leave many people with a rather cold impression. Shivers winding up their spine by the frigidity of the sculpted likeness. Not you, however. Warmth bloomed within your chest. Lips parted in amazement. Many of the features remained the same, though refined with age. It was a familiar and cherished image of a close companion.

Zayne. Your Zayne.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out. Closer and closer. Just until the pads of your finger barely ghosted against the cheek of Zayne’s face.

Hearing a step behind you, you instantly retracted your hand. Snapped out of your stupor.

“Y/N.”

You never thought your name could be spoken so gently until that moment. The origin was a low and smooth voice, like a spoonful of honey one would dissolve in a cup of tea.

Turning around with wide eyes, a name fell from your lips.

“Zayne,” you breathed.

In the quietness of the room, even your faint utterance of his name echoed in the space.

Zayne could have took you for one of the art pieces in this space with how well you looked. An ivy green dress with a grey shawl draped over your arms. You had traded elegance for practicality, leaving your gowns for balls at home so you could walk more freely. Still, the breath hitched in his throat as he looked you over.

His posture straightened before he bowed. “I’m sorry for frightening you.”

When he lifted his head, you noted how he blinked away from your gaze towards the ground. A habit he had as a young boy that he kept even now. Seeing it comforted you, though you could not understand why.

“I did not mean to disturb. I should have made my appearance known to you sooner.”

An apology. Those were his first words upon your meeting. You knew he had always been like that. Ensuring his intentions were made clear and rectifying anything that he misinterpreted. Aside from his manner, it was his appearance that also made your stomach flutter.

Both his coat and vest were navy, though the latter item was patterned subtly with white stripes. Tied neatly around his collar was a white cravat which accentuated his strong jawline. What was most striking were his eyes. Green and amber, resembling a precious gemstone. You didn’t remember them being so entrancing.

You shook your head (both in response to his apology and to dispel your meddlesome thoughts), and curtsied.

“It’s alright, truly. I was already at the end of my viewing anyway.”

He moved closer to you, each step reverberating. Your heart thumped traitorously in your ears. You hoped he didn’t notice how you stiffened when he reached your side.

“You seemed engrossed,” he said, looking over at his own sculpture.

“W-were you perturbed by my staring?”

His eyes brimmed with earnest as he replied, “No, no, not at all. That is a galley’s purpose. These artworks are displayed to be looked at.”

He hesitated, thinking about his words before continuing. “Though, I would hope that a… prolonged viewing indicates your favor towards a certain piece.”

You grew hot. Had your admiration really been so obvious?

“This is really a lovely home, nicer than anything I’ve had the pleasure of visiting” you said, quickly changing the subject.

A small smile tugged at his lips. People would quickly change their opinions about his coldness if they were to see the expression on his face.

“My staff are to thank for their work in its upkeep,” he responded. “I’m glad it is to your liking.”

Neither of you spoke for a moment. Mere seconds that felt like eternity as you stood side by side, fiddling with the material of your respective clothing, as if they were the most attention grabbing thing in this very room. You played with the hem of your shawl whilst Zayne adjusted the wrists of his jacket.

“Was your journey here smooth?”

The question tumbled out of Zayne more hurried than he intended. Desperation tinged his words, almost pleading you to continue talking to him. He wanted to hear your voice. Wanted to hear you speak to him about anything, like you once could together.

“It was. I rode a carriage from town then walked,” you replied, brightly. “I went through the garden at the front on my way to the entrance, as well.”

“The jasmines are in bloom now, as are many of the other flowers. I can give you a more proper tour later on, if you’d like.”

“I would enjoy nothing more,” you chirped, unable to temper your excitement. “I remember jasmines were your favorite when you were younger.”

His gaze fell on you, voice wistful and sincere as he spoke. “They still are, very much so.”

Two images seemed to flicker before you. The boy you once knew, and the man standing before you now. Perhaps the two were never separate. There would always be traces of your youth together, no matter when or where you found each other. This realization entered your mind with tenderness, much like the words of a loving mother doting on her child.

Again, the conversation lulled.

The statues and paintings were stationery witnesses to the endearing awkwardness of this pair reunited. Neither of you had the courage to look at each other, lest you revealed the flush that spread across both your faces. With nothing but Snowfield Park and time to yourselves, there would be much catching up to do.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[mywordstovictor]

Yeah I’ve thought I was safe talking about testosterone stuff with other trans people just to get told that it’s gross. Like ‘what about bottom growth though? What do you do about that?’ Not something I feel the need to do anything at all about actually. ‘And you want to get hairier?’ Yep. ‘Testosterone makes you smell bad though.’ It doesn’t stop you from showering, though. It doesn’t dematerialize all your deodorant, though. My happiness is worth the potential cost to your nose, though. "It’ll ruin your singing voice." One, you’ve never heard me sing, and there’s a reason for that, two, go listen to some trans guy singers because your blanket statement is wrong, three, you know that most cis guys have voice cracks for a couple years, right? "You won’t be able to have kids." Bold of you to assume I hold my genetic material in high enough regard that I want another human to have half of it. Also, not necessarily. Also, I could have frozen some eggs.

It’s not surprising from cis older relatives, but other trans people? I’m happy for you and the peace you’ve found in the body you landed in and I’m proud of you for staying true to yourself despite pressure to medically transition. That’s a wonderful thing. But I just wanted to talk about how happy my straggly little chin hairs make me because I thought you’d be happy for me, too.

Anyway let’s be nice to each other even if we don’t really understand each other’s needs and choices, okay? We can be confused about why other transes want or don’t want the things they want or don’t want and hold back our judgement to keep from dampening each other’s happiness. ‘I don’t personally understand how growing belly hair, of all things, could make you this happy but I’m really really glad you have the belly hair of your dreams’ is okay. ‘Why would you want that, that’s gross’ is not.

We’re not talking about thinking someone’s lunch looks unappealing (which most people still consider quite rude to point out), we’re talking about the bodies of actual human people. If you might hurt someone’s feelings saying it about their sandwich, don’t fucking say it about their body.

Anyway I’ve been told testosterone makes you gross enough times I wanna rub my somewhat oily man hair on someone out of spite.

everyone knows that cis people need to be less weird about trans bodies but trans people also need to be less weird about trans bodies. no one gaf if ur scared of bottom growth or thinks its weird. keep that shit to urself. ppl keep talking about normalising trans people who don't medically transition but like. don't normalise not wanting to medically transition to the point that medical transition is stigmatised bcs you guys r freaks about trans bodies. no one cares u think that either ftm or mtf bottom surgery is ugly or weird looking. keep that to urself

[cherrycheolkat]

• random slutty thoughts - seungcheol •

seungcheol is a patient person - he knows you are trying to goad him into doing something and he doesn’t like it

the library is normally seungcheol’s sanctuary - it’s quiet - none of his roommates seem to know it exists - it’s his space

his only problem is you showing up and invading his space

there is literally every other place to sit, but do you sit in one of these other places? no. no, you sit directly across from him

even with a divider, he can hear every little sound you make

all the little sighs and random giggles are one thing, but when your foot bumps his repeatedly - he is sure he’s going to lose his fucking mind because why don’t you seem to know you’re annoying

in fact, he’s certain you’re the least self aware person to exist - personal space, what’s that for you anyway

but this is too much!

he’s had a rough day - back-to-back difficult classes - he’s gotten a snack and he just wants to stare at his computer and play games for like an hour without being bothered

but you are in his seat - you and your hair that smells really good (he had a class with you last semester, even sitting behind you was kind of annoying, but the impossible-to-name scent of your shampoo was something he did actually like)

he thinks of sitting elsewhere - but no, this is personal because you have to know what you’re doing

he approaches, huffy and pouty

he sees your screen and pauses - of course you’re playing the same game, but you still took his seat

when he taps your shoulder, you yelp and look back, face flushed

“what?!” your eyes are huge

he rolls his eyes, “you’re in my seat,” isn’t it obvious, he wants to add

you glance around and seem to realize, “oh - aren’t they all the same?”

he stares in disbelief, “no, they aren’t,” his voice is sharp

you sigh, “okay, princess, have your seat then,” you huff as you get up and collect your things

he doesn’t care for the remark, or the way it sticks in his brain like an earwig because really ‘princess’ was uncalled for

and when he happens to see you out the following night, you actually stop to talk to him

you smile cutely, “so princess, how’s the gameplay for you?”

he glares, he knows you just want to fluster him, “it’s fine,” he says coolly

but you’re not finished, you keep asking him questions - what kind of gameplay does he like - is he part of a guild

it’s only after you leave to get a drink that he realizes how long you’ve been talking to him - he wonders if you’ll come back or not

when you do reappear, you seem to be walking towards him, but you stop when another guy approaches

he decides he should go home anyway and starts to leave, tossing his cup in the bin as he heads for the door

he’s surprised when he feels someone pinch his ass and whips around

you’re standing there, staring, “who said you could leave? we haven’t even swapped game ids,” you pout

“did you just grab my ass?”

you nod, “yeah, it’s just so,” you sigh, “i just want to touch it, okay?”

he flushes slightly, “you have no understanding of personal space,” he tried to sound like he had some high ground to stand on

you laugh, “says the guy who played with my hair when he sat behind me!”

it was like he had been slapped, “that”— “i never!” he fumbled his reply

you are suddenly very close, “yes, you definitely did and i didn’t say anything because i thought it was kind of cute,” your lips brush his cheek

he swallows roughly, his mouth feeling dry

he feels your hand on his, the way you guide his hand between both of your bodies, then lower, he feels your hip, your low stomach - you keep pressing his hand lower, until his hand is between your legs, feeling the thin fabric of your shorts

he glances around quickly, sure that someone will see

“everyone is busy, princess, don’t look so worried,” he feels your hips press closer to his

he knows you absolutely don’t care that you’re surrounded by other people

he reflexively squeezes you, hearing your soft moan close to his ear, “play with me,” you whisper

“here?” he tries to sound confident, not insanely worried

“mhmm,” you hum as you kiss his neck, “make me come,” you whisper before softly nipping at his ear lobe

“can’t we go to the bathroom or something?” he tries again, hoping for a modicum of privacy

you sigh, “you’re such a worrier,” even as you pull away and head for the bathroom

once inside, you pull him close - the heat between you returning quickly

with a door between you and the rest of humanity, he was quick to unbutton your shorts and let them slide down her thighs, he marvels at your barely there panties and how wet they are

he pushes them to the side, working his fingers into you without a thought, and when you’re quiet, he’s almost disappointed

“this is when your quiet?” he needles

you smile and kiss him, “i can be quiet in the library too,” you quip

he’s surprised when you come quickly, he watches your cum dripping down to the bathroom floor - he’s amazed he got you off so well

he plays with your pussy idly, “that’s what i want to see you do in the library, leave a puddle under the desk,” he pushes his fingers back in - he’s sure your pussy basically sucks him in

you grin, “hmm, and here i was imagining sitting under the desk with your cock in my mouth,” you moan softly against his skin

he shrugs, working his fingers deeper, “it’s not like they’re mutually exclusive,” he reasons

you giggle, “fuck, stretch me more, princess - get me ready for your cock,” you mumble

he wonders if this has been your goal all along, but really who is he to question your motivation when you’re so wet and needy

[girl-lostconnection]

Hound!Soap: Ah, your hurtin my feelings 🥺 who is that, I thought I was special

Fox!Reader: You've been chasing after me for hours! WE JUST MET YOU WEIRDO!

Hound!Soap: Nah, that was just flirting

Fox!Reader: WHO FLIRTS LIKE THAT?!? König can I and my family move in with you.

He'd say yes, of course. He can't have his little fox buddy too far when there's some weirdo chasing their tail

Lmao imagine he tells this whole story to Ghost like "I don't know why they don't like me 😔" meanwhile Ghost is just. Blankly staring. Yeah man I wonder why

Simon is giving him this slow frog blink but Simon is no better because he has been circling around Lamb!Reader that gave him a kick in the jaw so strong he forgot who he was for a sec.

So Simon realistically is the last person who could judge him. He judges anyway, nothing will stop this man (from being a hater /j)

Also 100%, Soap has been seeing fox!Reader for weeks now. He honestly thinks they know each other well enough, after all they watched him work and train, he watched them hunt and disappear in the woods. Thats introduction enough.

Also you know how people say to never run from the dog because it will chase you? That’s Soap and Reader because he decides there’s no way they don’t know this universal rule, therefore they must know he will chase. Therefore they want him to chase them. And they do but just for the different reasons.

But yeah, evening comes and Soap is just prancing around frantically, ribs bandaged, black eye very prominent, scratches all over his body. Because what do you meannnnn, hen? Who’s that big guy? What the fuck???

He’s going to be more careful next time. He will be smarter. If little fox has a bigger friend, that just means he has to make sure they won’t be able to make it to bloody moose.

Soap was just playing with them before but now that it becomes more serious? Hell yeah, he’ll have them pressed into the snow before they even reach the tree line, his cold nose in their neck, his warm palms tugging on them, stroking.

He’s elated to finally get his hands on them. But he’s not pulling his face out of the crook of their neck. And he’s not pulling his teeth away from their throat.

[opal-owl-flight]

John. John Splatoon. The man, the goofball the sweetest man youll see. Chatty, bubbly, and gives really good team morale.

But things arent all sweet.

I wonder if he shuts himself up when he feels hes being *too* jolly.

His family is kind. Its not their fault. Yknow how people are fucking mean to those who are very excited abt things.

I think he had an experience like that. Tanara was thankfully there when things started getting really bad.

John was made fun of when he first started turfing. He was just sooo excited abt it all. So enthusiastic!! He studied abt the greats, the top players, all that. And the bitchass mean kids thought itd be funny to crush his dreams.

They made fun of him when he rambles abt strategy. They mocked him whenever he tries to be a hero and gets fucking splatted for it (OH GEE, IF HIS TEAMMATES WERE ACTUALLY *HELPING* HIM HE WOULDNT HAVE GOTTEN GOT).

One time I think some bastard jammed his weapon so it was unusuable for a while, and he was unable to turf.

"Good riddance," the team had said. "That beak is finally quiet for once."

Tanara saw this happening and decided to stand up for him.

They saw this boy getting picked on, and didnt hesitate in open firing at the bastards. Didnt care if theyll get banned for a week for firing a weapon off the field.

"|Hey, are you the guy who cornered me in the last match? Color me impressed.|"

Tanara doesnt stand for bullies. Ever. They hate seeing these kinds of people in the leagues. They hate the fact that these nutjobs are so good at the game!!! they want to make the leagues a fun place for everyone. None of this fuckinh bullshit. From a young age theyve already defended others. Wanted to make a better world where everyone can just be who they wanted to be, grow into their best selves.

The orange squid was a big help. With them actually recognizing his talent and running by his side,,,

They made him believe in himself. Fuck what everyone else says.

"|We won because of your strategy,|" they sign. "|If it werent for you, we'd have lost the tournament.|"

And hes given a smile of encouragement. Oh, sweet understanding, sweet recognition.

For a tender year they and John built a strong team and friendship. John became this cheery man bc of them.

They helped him stand up for himself. Helped him in the art of not giving a fuck. Or raining retribution where it is applicable (the duo have sent bullies crying after giving fjem say -- a 20 second rainmaker match)

Whenever someone tries to make fun of him in the later years, or now -- even if Tanara is out of the picture bc theyre getting blended -- he will literally ignore the naysayers. Bc he knows. He knows Tanara believes in him. He knows his team believes in him. He knows many others do, as well.

He knows his own capabilities. He knows what his limits. And hes. God, theres a reason hes second in command. Hes smart about the sport. Hes scary on the field. Dont let the goofy attitude fool you. Hes having fun but you on enemy team wont!

Some people are recently saying that Tanara left their old team bc John was lagging too far behind them, that Ink Typh∞n is the natural next step for them.

Dead wrong dipshits. If anything, those two are eye to eye.

If Tanara wasnt forced to retire, theyf still be fighting by his side.

-----------

Ofc its not all perfect. He still shuts down sometimes. Shuts himself up if he gets scared of offending someone/in general.

If he doesnt get reassurance or proves to himself/his naysayers of his own capabilities, he starts going quiet, smiling less.

Those wounds still hurt, Im afraid....

-----------

And what about after Octo Expansion.

What was going through his mind?

Like....this is your best friend. The one who helped you become the man you are. They were your role model. Theyre so strong, so assured. Confident. Ruthless on the turf. So skilled that nothing can faze them. Believed in you like no one else did.

And youre watching them seem to get worse day by day.

Theyre closing up. Theyre not telling you anything. You reach out but they dismiss you. And their colors only get more desaturated with time. They still believe in you, but its clear that theres something bothering them.

You try to share your joy with them, talking about the things you liked. Like old times. It turns out however, that the character you idolized in the media you consume, is them.

And it explains everything.

An entire secret double life and they didnt tell you.

You were their best friend. They were by your side when you struggled to make it in this city. They gave you assurance when your confidence started to fail.

They were your hero.

Where were you then, when they needed one themself?

They slump into John's arms,,

Theyre only older than him by a year. but they feel so,,

They feel so frail. A shadow of how they used to be. A body broken by war, a mind and heart ravaged by worry and vigilance and the weight of the world on their shoulders.

They tell him that they dont want him to take this load. They tell him he doesnt deserve it.

He says he has no plans of getting into this, not directly. He just wants them to come back to him after duty, or allow him to help in any way he can.

He'll just wait by the door, like he always has.

And hes holding them. He wants to keep them there til everything becomes okay again.

[hyuny-bunny]

seasons // series

part vii

summary: Minho is determined to be the one to win your heart.

warnings: sweat (?), panic attack symptoms (hyperventilating)

part vi • masterlist

"Hey, look at me," Jisung says as he grabs your face. You were beginning to hyperventilate after seeing the look on Minho's face.

"Jisung I-"

"Stop, just breathe, okay, close your eyes," He held your face as you focused on every breath count.

Why did the idea of these two crossing paths make you so anxious and uncomfortable? Minho had been around your ex's before, even going as far as trying to befriend them for your sake. So, why was this any different? After your heart rate began to level, Jisung pulled you into a hug rubbing your back soothingly as he called someone. It was only a few moments after, you picked up you head to see the puppy faced boy who was the 2nd person closest to you.

Seungmin took the seat on your on the side of you before ruffling your hair.

"What's wrong?" He asked sympathetically. Even his voice was enough to ground you in something.

You gave him the run down of saturday morning's argument with Minho, then going out and meeting Hyunjin, going home with Hyunjin, to now sitting outside the dance studio where the two have crossed paths.

Seungmin doesn't shame you or even scold you but he does lightly bump his fist to your head making you let out a strained laugh.

"Why are you so worried about this? Is Hyunjin a bad guy?"

"No... he's actually a really sweet guy, even for an alpha.."

"Okay, and how is this situation any different then when you were dating someone else?"

You stop for a moment thinking with pursed lips.

"I guess it's... not? I just... you didn't see the look on Minho's face, he looked like I had just murdered his cat."

"That's a bit extreme," Seungmin says with a chuckle as he fixes a strand of hair from your face. "Either way, who you sleep with or don't sleep, whether he knows or doesn't, is your choice and only you for you to judge. If you say he's a good guy, then trust yourself."

He was right. Why should you be so afraid of what Minho thought? As much as you valued his opinion as a friend, it was just as much you're right to sleep with whoever and whenever as you were single, not tied down to anyone. You lay your head on Seungmins shoulder for a moment.

"I should've told you everything yesterday but I knew you were busy with-"

"I am never too busy for you, okay? Call, text, send Jisung to my door with a message from you- actually don't do that I don't want him at my place," Seungmin says as his face scrunches in disgust at Jisung who sits next to you about to protest.

The two banter back and forth for a moment making you laugh, feeling lighter about everything. They keep you company until the others emerge from their dance class.

-

Jeongin yapped Hyunjin's ear off in those 10 minutes they had for a break as Felix shielded his face in hands. He could feel Minhos eyes throwing daggers at Hyunjin's head.

Hyunjin had learned in those 10 minutes that Minho and you had been friends since childhood, with Minho having had a crush on you long before you presented as an omega and him as an alpha. He couldn't help but wonder why the two of you didn't ever get together. As far as he could tell, the two of you seemed a likely match. While he did know Minho well enough to pass judgement, it was clear the Alpha had an affinity for taking care of the people around him, even if it was as simple as helping someone get a dance move down correctly or making sure no one was too worn down.

Even the bite in the way he joked was so similar to you, it was playful and harmless but could be taken very different if aimed at the right person. There was no denying how good looking he was either. From his build and stature despite not being very tall, there was an energy about him that asserted that dominance intentional or not.

Hyunjin had decided it was best to not let Minho on any further information about the nature of your relationship. If Minho wanted to know anything then he would have to ask you.

The class continued on for another hour, if Minho went back to his cool and collect facade for the remainder of class. Felix watched every movement for Minho waiting for the moment he snapped but he never did. Once the class was over, students trickled out slowly until it was just Jeongin, Hyunjin, Minho and Felix.

As much as it hurt Minho to do this, he couldn't deny the talent that Hyunjin had. The two exchanged numbers so they could work on a possible separate choreography to film. Hyunjin kept his cool so long as Minho did. As the four of them began to make their way to the door, Minho's stomach turned at the idea of facing you.

When he saw you sitting on that bench beside Jisung and Seungmin, it seemed to all melt away. You held out an electrolyte bottle to Minho who gleefully took it. Hyunjin trotted behind him with a smile on his face.

"I'd hug you but I'm soaked in sweat," Hyunjin said as he stood in front of you.

"Oh it's fine don't worry about it! So, uh, I'm guessing I don't have to introduce you two to each other?" You ask looking between Minho and Hyunjin.

"We're pretty well acquainted now," Minho says a bit stiff but Hyunjin just laughs. You attempt to change the topic.

"How come you didn't tell me you were a dance major?" You asked nervously looking between Minho and him.

"You never asked," Hyunjin shrugs as he drinks his water, "I'm not a dance major though."

Minho, Felix and Jeongin cock their head in confusion. He laughs at their reactions before speaking again, "I'm an illustratrative art major, painting is more my forte but dancing is my outlet."

Felix chimes in, "Was that tattoo your design then?"

"What tattoo?" You ask confused but Hyunjin just lets out a soft laugh as he nods to answer Felix's question.

Hyunjin puts his bag down to peel his shirt up revealing the rose tattoo the starts between his shoulder blades and trails down further beneath the fabric in vines and thorns. Unconsciously you reach out to touch it which makes Hyunjin shiver and takes everything in Minho to not rip your hand away.

"I didn't see this before," You murmur in awe of the space it takes up on his back.

"Kinda hard to with when you were preoccupied with other things," Hyunjin says with a wolfish grin as he pulls his shirt back on as he watches the flush creep onto your cheeks and watching you awkwardly laugh.

Minho clears his throat grabbing your wrist abruptly, "We should get going, have somewhere to be in a few but we'll see you guys on wednesday."

"Minho, we don't have anything-"

"Yes, we do, remember." He says through clenched teeth before continuing to drag you away from the group.

"Still on for Friday?" Hyunjin's calls out as he watches the Alphas drag you away.

"Yes!" You shout from over your shoulder as Minho throws his arm around your shoulder to keep you from looking back.

Hyunjin watches feeling satisfied by successfully getting under Minho's skin. He bids his goodbye to the others but before he does Felix runs up to him asking to exchange numbers, you know, incase co-captain things come up. Hyunjin is more than happy to exchange numbers with the pretty blonde omega as he bids goodbye for the last time.

-

"This is the urgent business you were talking about?" You ask sarcastically as you sit in the quiet boba shop booth with Minho across from you.

It was your normal hangout spot but it was also ritual for the two of you to come here every 1st day back of the new semester. It was a cat themed boba shop and it was truthfully one of Minho's favorite places to be, especially with you.

"Yes, they close at 8pm, I didn't want us to miss our chance... how were your classes today?" He asks looking up at you attempting to change the topic from his insistent ways of getting you as far away from Hyunjin as possible.

"Good, my professors are pretty nice. I'm writing my first novel this semester too."

"Will you read it to me when you're ready?" He asks.

"Of course, who else will I read it to?" He internally responds with a scowl at the thoughts of you reading it to Hyunjin.

The two of sit in a comfortable silence listening to the sounds of the people chattering around you.

"What are you doing with Hyunjin on Friday?" Minho is the first to speak up. Likely plotting how to disrupt those plans.

"Not too sure yet... How did you like him?" diverting the question back to Minho.

"Seems nice." He says shortly, unable to meet your gaze. He wouldn't admit that despite his flirty advances towards you, he liked him enough to consider him someone worth getting to know. You hum in acknowledgment. "The lunch you made me was good, thank you."

"You're welcome, nothing compares to your cooking but I try," You say as you stretch up in your seat feeling the exhaustion of the day wearing on you. Minho takes the signal and grabs both your belongings ready to head out.

The warm feeling that spread through your chest as you can't help feeling thankful how easy Minho picks up on your body language, almost better than you can. The drive to your apartment is quiet as the two of you talk about the coming day of other classes tomorrow.

"Oh that reminds me, Saturday night, are you free?" You perk up in your seat.

"I should be, something you want to do?"

"I promised Seungmin that we'd go to his nerdy film marathon, please come with me?" You ask jutting out your bottom lip, while giving him your best puppy eyes.

"Mmmmm what's in it for me?" Minho would say yes regardless but he wanted to see what you would say.

"I'll make your favorite cookies but... i'll make them into little cats." You say with a straight face.

"Deal." He mimics your face until he sees that smile on your face making his heart do a flip.

"Perfect, I'll see you tomorrow," You say quickly climb out of his car before he got a chance to say anything else.

He watches as walk off into your building waving back at him, meeting Hyunjin was like setting a fire under him. He was more determined than ever to get you to see him as someone who could be there for, love you, to be your mate. He would stop at nothing now to be the one that puts that smile on your face.

[softtdaisy]

injury prompt 16 and 22 for reid perhaps... :D Love your writing btw <3

make my heart beat again / spencer reid

summary. spencer was sad. spencer was miserable. he thought he could handle it until he couldn't anymore. he thought he could deal with it alone until he couldn't.

words count. 2 249

prompt. “Why won’t you let me help you?” “…because I don’t deserve it.” / “You deserve to be helped, I—who told you this?” from here

what to expect. very angsty, spencer is so sad i want to hug him, i chose the mentally injured more than physically, mention of murder very quickly

a/n. ok first thank you so much for requesting it sweetie!! and i'm sorry, i wish i posted it sooner but i started it again to make it shorter and...it's not shorter, but it's here and i hope you will love it (and now i can work on your other request) 🫶

F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

You weren’t quite sure how everything started again with Spencer.

One day he was a memory of the past, one of your biggest regrets. The next time he was back in your place, like he always belonged there.

You went on a couple of dates a few years ago, and it would be a lie to say your heart didn’t fall for that boy. Sweet, gentle, the nicest man you’ve ever met. And so beautiful with his always so messy hair, his gorgeous brown eyes that always seemed to look at you like you were one of the seven wonders of the world, and that perfectly shaped mouth that you loved to kiss.

You were sure things could have worked out with Spencer if a) his work didn’t take him that much time—and more. b) You didn’t have other issues in your life you had to deal with before thinking about love.

So you ended your relationship, or whatever it was at that time, before it could be more serious. And you spent way too many nights missing Spencer Reid. 

The way he would start every date with a fact that could either last a minute or ten and how you could notice the change in his eyes when he noticed you were truly interested in what he was saying. How he was blushing at any physical contact you were initiating, even in bed after he made love to you. Or even how you never said you loved each other, yet the way his lips would stay longer on your shoulder when you were falling asleep was speaking for your feelings.

You never thought Spencer would miss you just as much.

But he spent months contemplating the idea of seeing you again and trying to convince you this could be good. That he could be good for you. But months turned into a year. And when he celebrated his whole single year on the other side of the country, Spencer read into it that maybe he had glorified love. In all its aspects.

And this conclusion haunted him for years.

To the point Spencer stopped meeting new people and was barely trying to stay in touch with those in his life. He wasn’t seeing his mom much; his colleagues noticed the distance he was building between them, and Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he saw his “friends.”

Because at some point, the fear of losing people turned into a feeling of not being good enough to people’s lives and made him a loner. A sad loner.

That was something you immediately noticed the first time you saw Spencer in years.

Your life has barely changed from your last date. Still the same job, but at a higher place. Still the same apartment, but with a different setting. Still the same person, but more mature.

It wasn’t hard for Spencer to find you. And if he spent a whole year contemplating going back to your place before putting that thought away, the day he truly needed it, it took him a minute to decide it was time.

You didn’t question his presence here when you opened the door. Maybe he should have. But when Spencer grabbed your face after you simply said his name with confusion, nothing seemed to matter. 

Not his hair longer than before, not him looking more shaped yet more fragile, not the circle under his eyes being way darker than the last time you saw him. Not that he was eagerly kissing you, something he never did.

You remember Spencer being gentle, taking his time to appreciate every second with you.

No, he was hungry, like each second could be the last with you. For him.

“What are you doing here, Spence?” you finally asked him. You were both lying on the rug in your living room. His eyes were locked on the roof, like he was disconnecting from reality. His arm around your back, holding you against him, was brushing your skin slowly, but he seemed to do that mindlessly. 

And Spencer didn’t turn his head to look at you when you, you couldn’t stop looking at him. “I needed that.” Not you. You put away the pain hearing that and tried to see the good in this, that you were the one he went to. 

But still, something was different with Spencer.

It would take you a few nights to realize he wasn’t blushing anymore when you touched him. Or that he didn’t seem to have a lot to talk about.

Actually, Spencer wasn’t talking much anymore. 

For weeks, Spencer would come to your place at night. Either after a day at the office or when he came back from a case. Usually, when it was the latter, he would even stay the following day to fully decompress from what happened.

You tried to question him once or twice. But Spencer always had the same answer: going down on you to keep you quiet with your question.

It was a win-win situation. 

He was giving you pleasure and making you think about something else.

He was concentrating on something else, and your moans were filling his head with other thoughts.

Until one night, the sex wasn’t enough to put his problem away.

You didn’t expect Spencer to come. Two days ago, he told you he had to leave for a case and it would probably last a week. Nothing out of the ordinary. But it gave you the time to think about him and where this was going.

Yet, your bell rang at 10 p.m. Let’s say that dating an FBI agent taught you to not open your door to anybody. You almost played dead and ignored it. But your gut told you to look at who it might be. 

You didn’t expect to see Spencer through your spyhole.

You certainly didn’t expect to see him cry on the other side of your door.

“Spencer, what’s going on?” you said, opening your door and immediately bringing him inside. The saddest part was that he let you do it. He didn’t stop you when you took him in your arms. Neither when you brought him to the sofa and sat him on it while you kneeled in front of him.

He was shaking; his face looked red from the tears and the scratching he did with his fingers, trying to take the pain away. But it didn’t work. And hurt him even more.

You grabbed one of his hands to take it away from his face. You tried to ease his joints with a soft caress. You even tried to make eye contact, but it was a lost cause with the way he was closing his eyes hardly, probably hurting himself like that. “Talk to me, Spence,” you whispered, putting your chin on his knee. “Open to me.”

You hated how he pinched his lips together before talking, like he was trying so hard to not break down. “I can’t,” he sobbed. He repeated that multiple times, sounding more angry with himself each time.

But the fact he wasn’t letting go of your hand made you believe that maybe a part of him, maybe just a very little one, wanted to have you. He still came to you tonight, right?

“Why won’t you let me help you?” 

This was a genuine question. One that grew over the last weeks. Sometimes, you would wake up in the middle of the night wondering which signs you might have missed when he was here. What did he try to hide from you with kisses and attention that you weren’t asking for? And if maybe you weren’t an accomplice of his troubles by accepting all his treats, knowing it was an excuse to keep everything from himself.

And during these moments, you imagined what Spencer might have answered. That he didn’t want his burden to impact your relationship, that he didn’t want to talk to you specifically. 

But you never considered what was coming as an answer.

“…because I don’t deserve it.” 

The world went silent. 

Except for your heart that just fell on the floor and broke into a million pieces.

Except for Spencer’s sorrow being louder than ever in your small living room.

It was obvious that Spencer wasn’t doing ok. But you couldn’t imagine how broken he really was.

You couldn’t force him to look at you and make him see he wasn’t alone at all. So you put your forehead against his, his sweaty hair sticking against your skin. Your arms wrapped against Spencer so you could hold him against him. You couldn’t believe that this grown-up man, in his thirty, could be a broken kid inside. You tried to hold back the tears.

You stayed like that for minutes; you don’t even know how long. This could last an hour or two if he needed to. You probably could have stayed all night if it meant calming Spencer down.

Little by little, you felt his shaking stop and even one of his hands land on your arm. The pressure of his fingers on your skin wasn’t harder, almost like he didn’t have any strength anymore. It was more like a delicate touch. One that reminded you of the old days, when Spencer was too shy to touch you.

Once you felt he was ready to hear this, maybe not listen yet but at least be able to understand what you were saying, you stopped hugging him so you could grab his face in your hands. “You deserve to be helped. I—who told you this?”

You met the saddest eyes you’ve ever seen at this moment. Couple with his sad smile. Oh, how you wished you could just kiss the pain away for once.

“I just…” he started, with a grazed, hoarse voice. “Every person in my life ends up sad or hurt or dead. I’m a problem. I’m a burden. I don’t deserve someone to take the time to help me, be there for me. I can’t risk someone, you, taking the time to make me feel better if it means losing you at some point. I can’t, I can’t do that again.” You heard the sob in his voice at the end. 

You opened your mouth to speak, but Spencer gave you the look, one he strangely never gave to you but that you understood immediately, meaning that he still had a lot to say. And deep down, you were happy to shut it if it meant he was finally opening up.

“I was taking care of a kid these days. We knew he might be in danger, so I was supposed to make sure he would be fine while working the case.” Spencer took a moment to continue, but you could only focus on the tear running down his cheek. “He got killed. Because I couldn’t protect him. Everyone around me has something bad happening to them. Even in my job. How can I be such a bad person?” 

You started brushing away the tears with your thumb, but Spencer cuddled against your hand. There was something even sadder with this man feeling like he didn’t deserve to have someone yet still craving every attention he could get.

“You’re not a burden, Spencer,” you whispered, and he closed his eyes again. “I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you to go through all these moments by yourself. I can’t imagine how hurt you must be from living such difficult times over and over again. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to have someone by your side.”

He didn’t answer. You weren’t sure this was the best decision, but you sat on his knees, trying to be closer to him so you could make him feel less alone. 

You thought that if he didn’t want that, he would push you away. But the way Spencer's hands ended up on your back so quickly made you think that maybe he needed that too.

“I can’t and won’t force myself into your life, Spencer, never,” you said, brushing his hair away from his face. “But if you’re ready to try, I can be by your side and help you consider that you deserve to be a supporter. Not only by me but by all the people that love you.”

Again, your words working on him, Spencer opened his eyes slowly. This time, even if the sorrow was still present, there was the smallest and almost slightest light in them. “Because people love you, Spencer Reid.”

As an answer, the only one he could give you, Spencer brought you against him and hugged you as hard as he could. It wasn’t the tightest hug he ever gave, but it was the best he could do. And it was enough. Enough to know that you opened a door in his mind. 

You offered your bed to Spencer that night, but he insisted on you staying by your side. He refused to let you know it was due to the fear of the nightmares he had for months now. Nightmares that always had different stories but ended the same way: with him losing someone and being alone.

All he needed was you, and you were willing to give yourself entirely to help him get better.

You didn’t know if you imagined it, but you were sure that when he was falling asleep, holding you against him like an antistress comforter, Spencer thanked you.

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

@zepskies

Ooo Yay! I can't wait to see what you thought about this UNHINGED fic 😂

On one hand, perfect makeout music. On the other hand, Dean is SOOOO freakin' jealous, but it's so frustrating that pushing down his own feelings for her has resulted in him being such a dick to her, before and during this moment. 😫😫

Oh yes, definitely setting the mood for the reader and Ben in the back seat lol. We all know that Dean has probably pulled the same thing in the past 😆 Dean is VERY jealous and it's only pushing the reader away from him more, but he can't stop it. He's stuck in a vicious cycle that is turning into one of Dante's circles of hell when Ben showed up LOL.

*snorts* I love both of these analogies. 🤣

Thank you! I was like... what else has a roadtrip in it? 😂

Deaaaaaan you complete and utter idiot!! What's even worse is that she did feel that spark with him when they first met, until he opened his big dumb mouth lmao.

He really has pushed down his feelings, a few people have pointed out to me that Dean is acting like the playground bully who likes a girl but can't express it in a healthy way and that is one million percent what's happening here lol. The reader did like him when they first met, but again he just didn't express his feelings in a healthy way and now he has to sit and watch Ben and the reader make out in the back seat of his car 😂

Lol sounds like the Winchester Way to me. 🫠

Absolutely 👏🏻 The reader is basically the male version of Dean tbh. Except she shoved down her feelings and then went to sleep with someone who looked exactly like Dean 🤣 Because that was also healthy right? lol

My heart was so torn throughout this entire fic, you have no idea!! The way she manages to pacify him loll. So sweet and sexy in a way, but also, you get the sense that she thinks Ben might just see her as a pretty face, even if he does care about her deep down? It makes you wonder where her heart is truly going to lie at the end of all this angsty love-triangle goodness.

Mine was too! I literally kept going back and forth from Ben to Dean, trying to figure out who she should be with. Because she has incredible chemistry with Ben and she understands him in a way that I think he's not used to. And on the other hand Dean understands her because she's a hunter, he's just being a stubborn idiot 🤣

AND you're right! The reader thinks that Ben only sees her as a pretty face at the moment. She doesn't understand that he has started to develop feelings for her. But I think that the reader also believes that Ben has the possibility to become more than just someone she sleeps with. That he could love her if she let him and if she loved him.

Oh my God this part was completely unhinged and it was hilarious! But the way Ben decides to "get rid of her" is unfortunately on-brand, not caring enough about the collateral damage, the risk of the reader getting hurt. 💔 Even though he does check on her afterwards, the way Dean protected her has my heart swinging back to him and melting in a whole different way!! 😫 Gah! This is so conflicting! loll don't do this to me, friend. 😂😂 I need to dive right into Part 3 so I get to see what happens between her, Ben, and Dean, and just who will confess their feelings first...

Yes see, I went to see Wicked with my friends the weekend before I wrote this and you have no idea how much I love the OC Iris that I made for this fic. I was also thinking "how many references to How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days can I put in one fic?" lol. I was sad that I had to kill her- but it had to be done. There needed to be a dramatic moment where Dean chose to save the reader and give the reader a little bit of doubt about Ben and also show the way he is (unfortunately). But Ben coming to check on the reader literally put me on the fence all over again because he was being soft for her 😭

I'm so sorry to do that to you my friend!! But admit it, you love the angst lmao 💞😉

Thank you so much for all your comments my lovely friend! I always love to hear what you think! And I can't wait to read what you think of Part 3! 💗

Part 2: It Is A Big Deal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Dean Winchester xf!reader,

POV: Reader POV

Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

Tropes: Frenemies (Dean and the Reader), Awkward Situation, Multiverse Problems, ANGST

Word Count: 7.4K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just to be sure. Cursing, Making Out, DEATH, Violence (only a little), Jealousy, Pining, Kinda Sad Vibes In Some Places, Sexual Innuendo, References to Sex, Feelings, Angst, Self Deprecating Thoughts? References to Past Sex (it happens quite a bit). References to Future Sex. Soldier Boy Being Soldier Boy (Everyone knows he’s a warning). Dean Winchester Being Dean Winchester (aka. being moody and super hot).

Listen While You Read: Jealous Again By The Black Crowes

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is no use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person

A/N: It was so fun to come back to this universe again! Thank you so much to everyone for all the love and support that you've gave me in writing the first part and thank you for all the encouragement to write a part 2! And also please don't forget to check out Stranded by @justagirlinafandomworld that inspired me to write this fic!💗

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

"Can the two of you stop playing find my tonsils and tell me where the hell it is I'm supposed to be driving to?" Dean grouses from the driver's seat while Sam leans over a road map squinting to look at the small print.

"Ready For Love" is playing over the speakers, barely audible over the thud of fat raindrops pummeling the windshield, blocking out the world around you, and sending the shadows racing across your skin where Ben and you are sitting in the backseat.

“Well, if you’d given me a few hours to fuck her at the motel instead of throwing a bitch fit-" Ben begins to say, turning his gaze your face to stare at the back of Dean's head with a lazy smile.

“Dean why do you care?" You interrupt Ben with red cheeks. "I know for a fact worse things have happened in the backseat of your car than Ben and me making out."

"Really? Because I can’t think of anything worse that you and him sucking on each other's tongues and helping the spread of mono." Dean's hands tighten on the steering wheel and his shoulders tense.

He’s more wound up than a tinker toy.

It has been exactly thirty three minutes since Dean's mental breakdown back at the motel when Ben showed up. Furthermore, despite how much Dean had screamed at you at the motel, it appeared that he was still going to act like a two year old who wanted a cookie before dinner.

Sam's suggestion for the four of you to figure out why Ben was here had been a welcome distraction from Dean's spiral. It had prompted all of you to pile into Baby to try and find where it was that Ben landed in your universe and find a clue as to why.

But so far the trip had been less like riding in the Mystery Machine and more like riding with the Griswold's on their road trip to Wally World…

Dean had been supportive of trying to find a solution to what he deemed the "Ben problem," but it appeared that Dean was going to spend every waking minute getting on your nerves.

Honestly, what's new?

You didn’t understand why Dean was so damn argumentative whenever you showed up, it was like he lived to make your life as difficult as possible.

It had always been that way. Since the first day you met Sam and him at Ellen's bar forever ago, Dean had never once said something nice about you or to you.

He always found some little thing to nit pick, whether it be your aim, your research skills, or your technique when hunting and you were sick of it. Each time the two of you worked together, it was Sam's job to make sure it didn't end in bloodshed. Even Cas noticed Dean's underlying hostility towards you and when he asked Dean what was wrong, Dean had brushed him off with a "not now Cas."

Worse was the time that you got hurt (only a minor injury) on a hunt a few weeks ago when you got thrown into a glass cabinet while facing down a poltergeist. Dean had chewed you out for a good twenty minutes and even with Sam's ability to intervene, you'd broken Dean's nose for speaking to you like that, and then rushed off to your room in the bunker before he had a chance to see you cry.

It was the one thing that you never allowed yourself to do in front of Dean Winchester, cry. He didn't deserve your tears, especially not when he was being a total grade A asshole.

When Sam came in later to help you get patched up, you asked him why Dean hated you and Sam tried to convince you otherwise, but you knew the truth.

Dean Winchester hated you, and you had no idea why. So you decided to stop trying to make him like you, because if he was going to act like a total dick he didn't deserve you being nice to him.

You knew that was why you liked Ben more. Ben appreciated you (sort of), he wasn't mean, he listened to you (sometimes), and he did give you compliments… well, they all revolved around the way you looked and that was nice, but just you wanted someone to give you a compliment that had to do with something else. Or maybe just a simple "I see you."

Is that so hard to ask?

Your few flings in the past hadn't been anything special. You didn't have the kind of stable lifestyle that prompted or supported long serious relationships, especially with non-hunters. Not to mention you'd always had this fantasy about meeting another hunter who understood exactly what you went through and what you had gone through over the years. It was often difficult to find a non-hunter who could understand that.

The bunker was the first permanent address that you'd ever had. Your mother had been one of the best hunters in the US, known by all, and you never met your dad, which meant that growing up on the road was the only life you knew. She'd died a year before you started working with the Winchesters which meant that you didn't exactly have anyone that you cared about or anyone who cared about you.

The thought often brought the feeling of loneliness stirring in your chest, but you pushed it down, throwing everything you had into hunting.

Healthy right?

Ben's muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, his hand splayed over your lower back to keep you tight against his chest so there is no space between the two of you, while your hands locked at the back of his neck. You didn't usually like PDA that much, occasionally yes, but you'll admit that you were only allowing yourself to give in to Ben a little more, because you liked how much it annoyed Dean.

Yes, you thought that it was absolutely ridiculous how Dean was acting, but you wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. Because in all the years you'd known him, you’d never found one thing to hold over his head or one thing that really irritated him, and Ben was working like a charm.

It also felt really good to kiss him, but that was beside the point.

You understood that Dean was having a psychotic break with his constant proclamations that Ben "was him," but you wanted to at least understand why Dean was still hung up on it.

Ben isn't Dean. Sure they have the same face, but Ben is different… isn't he?

When you'd encountered Ben for the first time you had done a double take, but the more you were around him, the more you appreciated the way he treated you differently from Dean. Yes he was a little sexist, but Ben made you feel wanted and Dean had a way of making you feel stupid and often like a burden, as if you'd been plopped on his doorstep like a box of kittens and he was stuck with you.

There was only so much that you could take.

You didn't know what you'd done to earn such hostility. Dean was far from sexist, and you'd seen him interact with other people, it was just you he treated differently and it made you want to strangle him.

"Calm down kid-" Ben sighs.

"Stop calling me that!" Dean turns around to glare at the man next to you.

"Keep your eyes on the road." Sam says, not looking up from the map. He didn't need to.

"What a wonderful suggestion Sammy, but see I can't because I have no idea where the hell it is I'm going!" Dean snipes at his brother.

I swear at this point if Gabriel pops out of nowhere and tells me that this is all just a fucked up dream, I'd believe it.

"Stop being damn hormonal kid, and keep driving." Ben rolls his eyes and moves his lips to your throat, nipping and biting along the flesh visible over the top of your jacket, making you gasp softly and lean into Ben's warm embrace.

Your eyes meet Dean's in the rear view mirror and just for a second you see something flash through them that isn't anger, but it's gone just as soon as you clock it.

What was that?

Dean slams on the brakes and Ben tightens his grip on your body so you don't go flying forward into the bucket seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You snap, curiosity gone, as you glare at Dean.

The tension in the car is high, popping and crackling around the four of you like popcorn. You still couldn't understand why Dean had such a problem with Ben. If anything you'd think that they'd get along a little bit.

"I am not being hormonal or whatever other chauvinistic shit that is about to come out of your mouth." Dean snarls, ignoring you, as he turns and narrows his eyes at Ben. "And I am not your chauffeur. So tell me where the hell it is I'm going so you can get the fuck out of my car and out of my life!"

Ben opens his mouth to retort something, no doubt that'll trigger Dean, but you speak before he can.

"Ben, do you remember anything about where you came through?" You ask him. You were trying to be more diplomatic even though Dean was making your blood boil.

Just because Dean is mad at me does not mean that he gets to take it out on Ben. Ben hasn't done anything wrong. He got sucked into this reality and immediately got pulled into Dean's soap opera.

Ben huffs out a sigh as he turns back to look at you. His gaze softens a little as his eyes meet yours, turning from a dark green to a jade. "There was a building-"

"Oh wow, how helpful!" Dean snarks. "Did you hear that Sammy? There was a building! Mystery solved!"

Ben whips his head in Dean's direction, the air in the car growing hot as Ben's skin begins to heat, but you gently lay your hand on his cheek to bring his gaze back on you. "Dean is an asshole. We all know." You say to Ben, reassuring him and ignoring the look Dean gives you when you say it. "Do you remember anything about the building?"

Getting Ben angry wasn't the way to get information out of him, he was, after all, more like Dean than you were willing to admit. And just as you'd seen Dean get worked over by numerous women, including Bella, sweet talking worked the best.

Well, it never worked when you tried to do it, because Dean refused to treat you any way other than an annoyance.

But two could play that game, especially with the way that Dean was acting right now.

Ben's jaw tightens and you know that he's biting back some remark to throw Dean's way, but you pull him closer, trailing your hand over his bearded cheek to keep his attention and gently bring your lips to his. You feel the tension shift from Ben's shoulders beneath the palms of your hands as he relaxes into the kiss, and this time Ben smiles when you pull away, giving your hips an encouraging squeeze. "It was a school or some shit. And there was a billboard for "World's Biggest Beer Can.""

"Okay. We can work with that." Sam says giving you a sympathetic look before pulling out his phone to type something in.

At least Sam is being normal about this whole thing.

Sam and you always got along, from the start he was the older brother that you never had, and it was refreshing. Not to mention Sam was your best and probably only friend. The hunter life was lonely and you found it difficult to make friends anyway, but something about Sam always stuck. He got your abnormal sense of humor, he gave the best hugs, and he stood up for you when things got heated between Dean and you. It was his idea for you to move into the bunker with him and Dean, and also him that convinced Dean to let you move in.

It had taken days for Dean to finally say yes. And when he did, he made you move into the bedroom next to his as if he wanted to keep an eye on you because he didn't trust you.

And as much as you hated living with Dean, living with Sam made up for it. You liked helping him research while Dean bitched and moaned about reading through dusty volumes, liked helping him clean up while Dean followed behind you as if you couldn't be trusted, liked helping Sam try to make dinner that ended up more burned than anything else until Dean stepped in and shooed the both of you from the kitchen so he could make something, and liked kicking back on the couch watching movies with Sam while eating copious amounts of popcorn.

Unfortunately, Dean didn't get the hint that you wanted him to leave you alone so he'd follow Sam and you, crack open a beer, and proceed to give a personal commentary on the movie the two of you were watching, occasionally throwing a look in your direction as if he was checking that you were listening to him. Weirder still was the fact that Dean would do that when Sam wasn't with you.

You noticed that sometimes, that no matter where you were in the bunker, Dean just happened to find himself in the same room. But that didn't mean he would speak, sometimes he would just be cleaning one of his guns or quietly reading through a dusty volume or writing something down in a notebook, but you swore sometimes you thought that Dean was looking at you. Each time you looked up though, he was looking down at whatever else it was he was doing.

It was those moments that made you think that things could be civil between the two of you, and then he'd get on your case for doing something he deemed "wrong" when you knew you did it right the first time as if you hadn't been a hunter as long as he had.

He probably does that because he doesn't trust me.

Dean grumbles something under his breath and turns his gaze back out the windshield, watching the wiper blades go back and forth over the glass, crossing his arms over his chest. Ben frowns and you know that he must have been able to hear whatever it was Dean said.

Why can't we all just get along for five minutes? Is that too much to ask?

"Alright I've got something." Sam says ending the uncomfortable silence in the car. "The World's Biggest Beer Can is in Northwood about ten miles ahead of us."

"Finally. At least someone is pulling their weight." Dean states before he hits the gas, the force throws you backwards into the seat.

Your gaze flicks up to the rearview mirror and notice that Dean is watching you again, but you turn away to Ben who smiles wide and pulls you back towards him for a kiss.

But deep down you can't help but wonder if Dean had been watching the two of you in his rearview mirror the whole time and why he cared so much.

The building that Ben remembers is in fact, an abandoned school.

The roof sags inward allowing rainwater to pool in the front lobby over black and white checkered tiles, the lockers are rusted and thrown to the floor at odd angles making you worry about the possibility of tetanus, and there is an ungodly stench that you can only describe as old gym socks, axe body spray, and unwashed feet.

Ben's nose wrinkles where he stands beside you, and you're sure that no matter what your sense of smell is experiencing it's a million times worse for him.

You press your lips into a tight line, toeing around a puddle of something gray and sticky that you can't identify, but know for a fact you don't want it in your shoes. Your eyes squint into the looming darkness that grows the more you stare down the forgotten hallways.

It’s always gotta be an old creepy building. Just once I want to get to investigate a donut shop or a burger joint or a Starbucks.

"Any of this looking familiar Captain Sexual Harassment?" Dean asks turning with his flashlight to point in Ben's face.

Ben shrugs and squints at the offending light. "I don’t fucking know."

"Enlightening." Dean huffs out a breath. "Well, guess we can split up and-"

Thank God I won't have to listen to Dean mutter things under his breath and freak out.

"Fine." You interrupt. "Come on Ben." You start to walk down one of the dark hallways, but Dean slides in front of you to block your path.

"No way. You're not going with him." Dean waves his flashlight in Ben's face again and you can see the twitch on the corner of Dean's mouth to see how much he enjoys blinding him.

Why does he always have to act like such a child?

"Why?" You demand.

"Because as soon as Sam and I get out the picture, Grandpa over there is going to pull you aside and fuck you in one of the classrooms." Dean says it without blinking, but it makes you flush red in embarrassment and anger.

"No, he's not!"

"Yes, he is!"

Dean is so close that you can feel his warm breath on your face. His eyes are narrowed in anger, but you can see another emotion flick through them so quickly you think you imagined it. It was the same emotion that you thought you saw in the car, but you can't identify it, not yet.

Ben's hand comes down on Dean's shoulder, a wide smirk on his face. "Look kid, I get it. She's fucking hot and I know you think I'm trying to horn in on your action-"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean exclaims shaking off Ben's hand.

"You're jealous because she decided to be with a real man instead of you." Ben shrugs. His gaze travels up and down Dean as if appraising him before he shakes his head with a chuckle. "I can't blame her. Someone like you couldn't handle her.

"I could handle her just fine!" Dean snaps back his face flushing as he forces his chest against Ben's, who only smirks back.

What did he just say?

Your entire body goes stick straight in surprise and you turn your head to stare at Dean. In all the years that you'd known Dean he's never once said something like that to you.

Sure there was the night you met…

You hadn't thought about it in years. You'd been back in town because Bobby had called asking you to help out some friends of his on a case and you'd stopped in to Ellen's bar to see Jo. Dean had come on to you and you'd splashed a beer in his face and also maybe pinned him down against the bar. It had been awkward the next day when you found out that Dean and Sam were the friends that Bobby wanted you to help out, but you pushed past all the weird feelings to help.

Dean had flirted with you that night and you will admit to yourself that you thought Dean was attractive before he opened his mouth, but since that night the two of you hadn't spoken about it. In fact, you were both perfectly happy pretending that it didn't happen.

Or so you thought.

Dean's dark green eyes flick to yours in realization. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure kid." Ben's smirk grows to Cheshire Cat proportions.

"Stop calling me that!"

The weird thing was, you'd seen Dean lose his temper, it always flared fast and hot broken up with sarcastic comments, but for some reason this felt different and you didn't understand why. It didn't feel like Dean just getting angry because Ben was getting under his skin, it felt like something else.

"Whoa!" You get between the two of them for the second time in an hour. "If you guys keep fighting like this I'm going to put you both in time out!"

"He started it!" Dean glares at Ben, who doesn't look the least bit upset.

"I don’t care who started it! You're grown men and you're still acting like toddlers. I shouldn't have to separate you." You snap waving around your flashlight at Dean.

"How about this?" Sam sighs from where he stands a few feet away. "I'll go with Ben and the two of you can try not to shoot each other."

"Why can't I go with you?" You sigh to your friend.

"You want to leave them together? Alone?" Sam raises his eyebrow.

Not really.

Sam takes your silence rightfully as confirmation, because the both of you knew if you left Dean and Ben together it would probably be a Thunderdome situation or a reenactment of the WWE.

"Maybe we shouldn't split up." Dean says looking at his brother.

"You scared kid?" Ben smirks. " No wonder she decided to fuck me instead of you. You’re acting like a little bitch."

"You son of a bitch-" Dean finally snaps and launches himself towards Ben, but your hand fists in the back of Dean's leather jacket to stop him from starting a fight that you know he won't win.

It wasn't that you thought Ben was a better fighter than Dean, it was that Ben had super strength and would have no qualms ripping Dean in half. And despite how much Dean annoyed you, you didn't want him to die. Sure he was a jerk, but he didn't deserve that after everything he'd been through, and Sam didn't need to bear witness to that.

"Fine." You say. "Ben please go with Sam."

Ben rolls his eyes and follows after Sam, leaving Dean and you standing in the lobby alone, the only sound the soft plop of water echoing down the empty hallway.

Great. Now I'm stuck with Dean in a creepy old building. It's a dream come true. The stuff of Disney movies.

"Why did you do that?" Dean snaps at you when Ben and Sam turn a corner out of sight.

"You should be thanking me! Ben would rip you in half without batting an eye!" You turn back towards the empty hallway and try to put as much distance as you can between Dean and you.

Distance is good, nice. It means that I can only partly hear his disapproval.

"You don't know that." Dean catches up with you, sweeping the path in front of you with his flashlight looking for holes in the floor.

"Yes, I do. I've seen him do it before."

By now you were aware that there was a chill in the air, it was unnatural, creeping down the hallway in a thin mist that made a shiver crawl down your spine. Dean must sense it too, because he pulls his gun at the same time you do.

That or he's doing it because he's about to go Rambo on Ben's ass.

Because that'll end well…

"If he rips people in half why do you like him so much?"

“He’s not a bad person if that’s what you’re getting at. Ben did it to save me.” You point your flashlight into one of the classrooms along the hallway noting the rotted desks tipped over onto the checkered floor. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

Ben's world was filled with more than a few crazed individuals, and when you'd been in his universe Ben had stepped in when a supe threw themselves at you. Truthfully, even though Ben did what he did to protect you, watching him pull someone apart with his bare hands made you sick to your stomach. Given what you'd seen, that was saying something. But you knew that Ben wouldn't hurt you, he wasn't that kind of man, and you weren't afraid of him.

“You’ve known him for five days! How can you tell after five days?!” Dean nudges a cardboard box with his boot sending a family of cockroaches scuttling into the shadows.

"Because I can!" Your lip curves up in distaste at the appearance of the roaches and try not to imagine all the walls infested with the little bugs.

You didn't like roaches. Especially ones that all of a sudden developed the ability to fly in your presence as if it were a miracle.

The two of you continue to walk down the hallway, the sound of your footsteps masking the constant dripping noise that comes from the floor above.

Your temper was flaring all over again. You didn't think that you needed to explain any of this to him. Dean never felt the need to discuss his extensive history with women with you and you didn't feel the need to discuss the ins and outs of your and Ben's situation.

"Come on-" He begins to say, but you don't want to hear it.

"Dammit Dean just fucking drop it." You throw your shoulder against a door at the end of the hallway, putting everything you have into it and a little more. You were getting frustrated at Dean's continuous commentary on your life. "I don’t want to talk about this anymore or listen to any of the ridiculous reasons why you think that it's any of your business who I sleep with."

“I think it is my business because you were about to reenact the scene from Titanic in the back of my car!”

“Oh please. I’m sure that you’ve reenacted it billions of times back there. Mr. Saturday Night!” You roll your eyes hitting the door again with your shoulder.

“It’s my car!" Dean shouts, moving you out of the way in a surprisingly gentle way, before he savagely kicks down the door. "I can do whatever I damn well please!”

I wonder if Sam and Ben are having a better time than us. It wouldn't be difficult to.

The door opens with a snap under the force of Dean's kick depositing Dean and you into a large auditorium. The seats are a faded gray and the curtains that hang from the sides of the stage, once blood red, were more of a muddled pink stained with splotches of dark spots and filled with holes the size of the Impala.

Crawling vines and ferns have begun to tangle over the empty seats and over the floors, absorbing anything in their path. The wooden stage is dilapidated and caving in on itself, the boards jutting upwards instead of laying flat as they should in some places from years of water damage. The carpet beneath your feet is squishy and moth eaten, and each step sends another cloud of dust into the air making the room hazy and you cough into your elbow.

"Not to mention he's me!" Dean continues, tramping into the room behind you.

"How many times are you going to say that?" You pinch the bridge of your nose, trying your best to keep it together.

"As many times as I have to, to get the point into your thick skull!"

You whirl around and poke your finger into his chest. "You know what Winchester? You can take all your opinions and shove them right up your uptight ass!"

"The two of you don't get along at all. Odd given how you seem to get along with my fiancé." A bored voice says from somewhere behind you. "But it is a lot more entertaining than I thought it was going to be."

Dean and you both lock eyes and turn to look in the direction of the voice, but there's no one there.

"Um, did you hear-" Dean begins to ask.

"Yes I did." You reply clicking the safety off your pistol.

"Just checking."

"Though I will say, with the way today is going for you and if this is you having a psychotic break, I wouldn't be surprised that you're having auditory hallucinations."

"Shut up." Dean sighs.

"Hello?" You shout, looking around the empty auditorium for some answer, but it remains empty.

Dean snorts. "Now who's craz-"

"Hello?" The voice mocks in a nasally voice. "Wow you're pathetic. I don't understand what he sees in you."

"You call me pathetic, but you're the one hiding. So why don't you come out?" A chair from the front row plucks itself off the ground and hurls itself at your head. You duck and it sails into the aisle behind Dean and you.

"You're not even that pretty." The voice continues and you can imagine a pout on the end of its words like a petulant child who wishes to get their way.

This is so fucking weird.

"Thanks." You reply dryly. "I like to think I've got a great personality."

"You don't." Dean mutters, making you throw an elbow into his side.

A high pitched giggle echoes through the space making it impossible to identify where it came from, until finally a woman materializes on the stage. You blink your eyes to make sure that she's really there.

Her blonde hair falls over her shoulders in perfect ringlets, and she's wearing a bright pink fur trimmed dressing gown. The kind you'd see on an eccentric billionaire's trophy wife who spent most of her day drinking gin martinis poolside while being fanned by cabana boys or the kind that she'd be wearing when she heard of her husband's "untimely demise." There's a silver diamond crown perched on top of her head and she's smoking a cigarette from a long white cigarette holder, while she lounges back on a golden throne.

What. The. Fuck.

"Do you see her too?" You whisper to Dean out of the corner of your mouth.

"You mean Glinda the Good Witch the later years? Yeah I can." Dean replies looking just as confused as you do. "You thinking Gabriel?"

"I thought he was dead."

"He's pretended to be dead before." He shrugs.

"Fair enough. Any reason why he's making us see her?"

"Maybe your new boyfriend has a fetish."

"Hasn't anyone told you that it's rude to whisper?" The woman says, taking a drag from her cigarette.

"Sorry. Um. Who are you?" You ask.

"I don't speak to homewreckers." Her face contorts into a sneer. You watch her eyes shift from Dean to you. "But I'll answer for your friend. I'm Iris, Benjamin's Fiancé."

If pigs could fly right now an entire fleet of them would be taking flight around you. You tried to wrack your brain remembering a single time that Ben said that he had a fiancé or was in a relationship at all, and you can't find a single moment.

Well… today officially sucks.

"Wow. Nice." Dean looks at you with a scoff. "Real nice."

"Hey woah, I didn't know he had a fiancé." You hold up your free hand in surrender. "He never said anything about a-"

"Hey gorgeous. Did you find anything?" Ben says materializing behind Dean.

"You're engaged?" You shout.

"No?" Ben looks confused. "Who told you that?"

You point a thumb over your shoulder to Iris, who is still lounging on the stage completely in her element. She giggles and wiggles her fingers in a cute wave.

"Hey Benny Wenny, did you miss me?" Her lips curl up in a wide smile when she rises from the throne, her bright blue eyes crinkling around the edges. The air around her seems to sparkle, sending scattered light out into the broken seats.

Ben is still staring up at the woman, looking utterly confused.

"You know that freak?" Dean whispers to Ben who is now standing shoulder to shoulder with him.

"Fuck no."

"Well, congratulations Benny Wenny." Dean snorts. "Guess you're getting married."

"I am not-"

"And don't worry, of course I'll be your best man." Dean continues, holding back laughter.

"Shut the fuck up kid!" Ben snaps at Dean, before turning back to the woman on the stage. "Look baby, I don't know who you are but-" Ben begins to say to the woman, who only laughs.

She throws back her head, golden curls bouncing with the force of her body moving, laughing for an unnatural amount of time before she locks her blue eyes on Ben again.

“Stop being silly. We met a few months ago at Legend’s party. We had a few drinks and then you came back to my apartment where we made love for hours-“ Her cheeks blush. “It was sooooo romantic. What I always dreamed about!”

“Um-“

“My parents are so excited to meet you and my little sister said that she’s so happy to have a big brother!” She giggles. “I even made us matching t-shirts to wear on our honeymoon and a scrap book of our children!" She holds up a magenta colored bedazzled photo album that’s the size of a medium sized dog.

Wow she put a lot of work into that.

“Children?” Ben stutters, his voice cracking on the end a little bit. It's the first time that you've ever seen him look afraid.

“What they’ll look like, where we’ll vacation each year, where we'll live, where you'll work-” Her expression turns sour, eyes flashing a dark pink as she glares in your direction. “But then you met that little whore who took you away from me and poisoned your mind.” She points a perfectly manicured pink nail at you. “So I decided to bring you here so you could help me kill her.”

“I’m sorry rewind-“ You say holding up a hand. “You brought Ben here? How?"

"I found a website while I was looking at destination weddings." She shrugs.

"There are websites about traveling through different universes that show up in the search engine-" Dean begins to say.

"DON'T QUESTION ME!" The girl shrieks and the entire room begins to shake.

"And you wanted Ben to be here because?" You haven’t lowered your gun. Frankly you had no idea what her powers were. She looked more like she would start tap dancing down the yellow brick road rather than start hurling chunks of the stage at you, but you needed a plan.

“Because we’ll get to share this moment together.” Iris sighs looking over at Ben again, who is just as shell-shocked as he was a moment ago.

“Killing me?”

Iris nods enthusiastically. “We'll make love on top of your dead body and no one will come between us ever again!” 

Dean snorts under his breath and you elbow him again, trying not to think of the image.

Please let this be Gabriel messing around with me. Because if it's not my life is officially a joke.

The three of you stand there for a minute looking up at where she prances on the stage in mixed stages of disbelief.

And just as Iris takes a step forward, a sandbag falls on her head. She crumples to the floor like a sack of potatoes as Sam appears in the wings of the stage looking from her to where the three of you are watching.

"You guys okay?" He calls.

"Yeah." Ben shrugs. "Too bad about her though. She was hot."

He's kidding right?

"The crazies always are." Dean adds with a sigh, patting him on the back.

"I'm so happy the two of you are having this bonding moment, truly I am, but-" You begin to say, turning your back to the stage, but as soon as you do Sam goes flying across the room and into one of the fern plants.

"That was so uncool!" Iris squeals, hovering over the stage, her hands glowing an unnatural magenta color. "Ben and I are meant to be together, we're soulmates, perfect, fated, destined, and no one is going to stand in my way."

The entire room begins to tremble with the force of her anger, dust floats down from the ceiling as it begins to crack and crumble under her powers. You can feel the warmth of Ben's skin as he begins to power up the beam in his chest, burning through the air like a supernova.

There's a crackling sound that comes from above and you look up to see a giant piece of the ceiling falling in slow motion towards your body. Dean shouts your name, but he sounds far away, the sound ringing through the few seconds that you still have left before it crushes you.

But the hit doesn't come from above, it comes from the side.

Dean tackles you, just as the piano sized piece hits the ground where you had been standing a second ago, to the ground, cradling your head in his hands. Your bodies tumble into the moth eaten carpets as Ben explodes, the heat and power of the beam causing more of the room to fall around the two of you.

There's a terrible high pitched wail that's cut off abruptly mid scream and you don't need to be a genius to know what or rather who it was.

Dean covers your body with his and your hands come up under his arms to hold him tighter to you. You bury your face into the warmth of his coat where his throat and his shoulder meet with a whimper as everything around the two of you shudders and shakes. He doesn't pull away, his muscles tensing as he tightens his grip around you, his own face buried in your hair.

The room continues to shake and fall apart in the aftermath of the blast, dust and ash rising in clouds. But you can’t see any of it, Dean's body is shielding you from the room as it crumbles around the two of you, tucking you further beneath him the longer it goes on, making it impossible for anyone or anything to hurt you.

You could feel something curling in the pit of your stomach the longer you laid there under him, an odd feeling that you'd tried to push down whenever you were around Dean, a warmth that begins to spread like wildfire through your body everywhere the two of you are touching. His body is warm and heavy, but it's not oppressive, it lays over you protective and unyielding in the wake of the destruction.

The smell of him invades your senses, a mix of gunmetal, leather, and a spicy scent that tickled your nose. You'd smelled Dean's shampoo before, when it wafted out of the bathroom as you walked down the hallway, imprinting itself in your mind. It was how the impala smelled, always like Dean, and with it brought a feeling of comfort that you'd never known before.

It was odd.

"Are you okay?" Dean whispers, and you can feel the rumble of his words through his chest where it's touching you, his hips laying in the cradle of your thighs. He pulls back to look at your face, the rough grate of his stubble catching your chin as he does so. His eyes are wide with worry and it's the first time that you'd ever seen him look at you that way.

Dust and ash caught in his hair in graying clumps, sticking to the shortened brownish gold strands, the ones that were just a little shorter than Ben's. You longed to run your fingers through, to feel if it was as soft as it looked.

"I think so." You murmur, not used to the weight of his body on top of yours, but you're also trying not to notice how a part of you liked it. "Are you okay?" Your fingertips trail against the smooth leather of his jacket, working up to the back of his head, feeling just the subtle brush of the hair at the nape of his neck.

You don't miss the soft sigh that rushes out of Dean's chest when you do that, fueling the fire that was spreading in the pit of your stomach.

What is happening?

"Yeah." Dean's fingers brush your hair from your face, so quickly that you think you missed it, but the burn of his skin over your cheeks is the only reminder. You gasp softly with the movement, confused as to why Dean was acting this way, why he was worried about you, and why you liked it. Your arms are still wrapped around his body, fingers curled into the back of his leather jacket, but Dean makes no move to get up, he continues to look at you.

You'd never seen Dean look at you like that, look at you as if he wished to understand you, as if he saw you. No one had ever looked at you that way in your entire life.

"Dean!" You hear Sam yell from somewhere, followed by your own name.

It jolts Dean out of wherever his mind is and he gets off of you, but he helps you to your feet, one of his warm calloused hands taking yours to pull you up before dropping it as if he didn't do it in the first place.

The room is destroyed. The roof has completely caved in allowing the rain to soak through the remaining seats of the auditorium and into the musty carpets. The stage no longer exists, all that remains is a black blob of what you're sure used to be Iris, and although a part of you feels bad about the turn of events, you can't help but feel a little relieved.

She was going to kill me. You think to avoid the wave of guilt that washes over you.

"Ding dong the witch is dead." Dean mutters under his breath, but it doesn't make you feel better.

Fires burn over the edges of the stage, small and controlled, but sending rivulets of smoke into the air. You knew it meant that the fire department would be here any minute and that's the last thing you wanted to explain. That and the body on the stage.

Ben stumbles to his feet a few steps away from Dean and you, pushing off a piece of roofing that must have landed on top of him. His suit is covered in dust and drywall, but he looks okay. He's got that far-away look in his eye he always does after he uses his power.

You step towards him to make sure he's okay, but Dean stands in your way.

"Are you out of your mind?" Dean snarls at Ben.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ben snaps.

"You almost killed us! Almost killed her!" Dean gestures towards you.

"I fixed the problem." Ben rolls his eyes and glances to you, as if trying to reassure himself that you're okay. You knew that Ben might have wanted to only have a physical relationship with you, but you knew that he did care about you in his own way. "You okay sweetheart?" He pushes past Dean, gently touching your face, tilting it up to his. "Did you hit your head?"

"No. I'm okay." You smile tightly at him, but a part of you can still feel the ghost of Dean's fingertips trailing against your cheeks to push away your hair and feel the weight of his body over yours. "Are you okay?" You ask, noting the way his eyes still are a little unfocused.

"Course I am." Ben scoffs. "Takes a little more than a building to bring me down doll."

You nod, while Ben's hand still continues to rest on your chin, and just as he leans down for a kiss, you see Dean's face in the corner of your eye and finally you're able to identify the emotion reflected in his gaze. It's the same emotion that you saw in the car when he stared at you in the rearview mirror. It's the first time that you've ever seen Dean look at you that way in all the years you'd known him.

It's hurt that flashes behind the green eyes you knew so well, shifting to jealousy on around the darkened edges the longer he looks at Ben and you.

And when Ben's lips touch yours, you feel guilt begin to creep along your skin and extinguish the sparks you'd felt moments ago in the pit of your stomach.

A/N: I'm not going to lie, I did not mean for this part to be a little sad... but oh my word 😭 BUT I also promise that the next chapter will have a happy ending ❤️

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated. I love hearing what y'all think! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for Part 3 please let me know!

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@bitchykittenconnoisseur

[wisteriasymphony]

Chloe had knocked over Marinette's tray at lunch earlier that day. It wasn't anything new, just like the way Chloe had started making oinking noises to Sabrina when Marinette had bent down to clean it up. Or like the way Chloe had said that Marinette didn't really need the extra calories, so she was actually helping her after all.

Lucky Lucky Ladybug kept replaying the scene in her mind, over and over, thinking about just how stupid Chloe would've felt if Tikki had let Marinette transform and give Chloe a talking-to as Ladybug. She had woven the string of her yo-yo between her fingers into a cat's cradle, and every time her hands would stretch apart, the yo-yo would spin on its track. Then she'd bring her hands back together to catch the yo-yo mid spin, the metal body clacking against the bones in her hands. Spin, then clack. Spin, clack. Spin, clack.

Chat Noir had been talking for the past few minutes, but Ladybug never bothered to listen to him anymore. He had probably just made one of his awful puns again, based on the way he started stammering.

"Oh, uh, s-so the joke is that it's a play on the word—" "Have you ever thought that maybe, if you have to explain all of your jokes, you're not funny?" Chat Noir got quiet, his shoulders falling. Ladybug kept her eyes on her yo-yo. "I'm sorry, milady," Chat Noir apologized. "I just assumed you didn't understand the punchline." "Maybe you should come up with jokes other people understand then. That way people might actually laugh at them." Spin, clack. Spin, clack. Ladybug kept imagining Chloe's face, with her pale blue eyeshadow and her cakey makeup.

Chat Noir started to twist his fingers together, the claws on his thumbs digging into his gloved hands. It wasn't anything new—people having little patience with him, that is. His father had gotten him used to it by now. Chat Noir knew that the right thing to do in such situations was just to acquiesce, and that when you acquiesced people liked you more for it. "I noticed you and Rena were on television the other day. How did that go?" Ladybug hunched over herself, scoffing as she wound the string of her yo-yo tighter around her fingers. She had started bring Renared to press conferences and fan meetups because she could trust that Alya wouldn't act like an idiot or say stupid things. Alya was a good friend like that, willing to pick up Chat Noir's slack. Plus, doing things with Rena instead meant that Marinette and Alya could hang out for the rest of the day, and Marinette would actually enjoy herself. Doing anything of that with Chat Noir... would mean she'd be hanging out with Chat Noir. Bad pickup lines and worse jokes included.

"It was fine," Ladybug huffed, rolling her eyes. "Why do you even care?" "Oh- well, uhm. You just used to take me, and I was wondering if you had a reason that you... well... stopped."

One time during an interview, Chat Noir had derailed the entire conversation talking about the intricacies of whether or not their group of holders counted more as a religious or a political organization, entirely unaware that nobody could even begin to care about such a thing. Spin, clack. Spin, clack.

Ladybug thought about the way Chloe's face had scrunched up when she oinked at Marinette. Ladybug thought of Chat Noir's stupid awkward stammer. Ladybug thought about having to admit to her mother that her grades were getting worse.

Ladybug trapped the yo-yo in her hands for the last time, almost trying to crush it.

"It's because she's better at it than you, and I like you better when I don't have to hear you talk. Does that make you happy?!"

Chat Noir almost answered—No, actually, knowing that people didn't like hearing him talk didn't make him happy at all. But he'd learned by now that when Ladybug asked him questions like that, she wasn't actually asking and a response would only make her angrier.

"I'm sorry. I'll talk less, milady."

"I told you to stop calling me that."

"...I'm sorry."

Maybe Chloe could pick on Chat Noir for a change. He deserved it more than she did.

[heechwe]

like real people do | 𝐲𝐣𝐢

୨୧ pairing: yang (IN) jeongin x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 2K ୨୧ genre: lots of fluff, smut ୨୧ tags: marriage au, parents au, body worship, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, breeding kink ୨୧ synopsis: Who would've thought the greatest wish that your husband had for his birthday was to read his son a bedtime story? Well, that, and one other thing... ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you to all of the betas who worked on this for me—a (@chugging-antiseptic-dye), ley (@pars-ley), tiya (@gyubakeries), ally (@lovetaroandtaemin), and kae (@ylangelegy)! I love you all loads. And happy belated to the fox himself ♥︎

Where have Jeongin and Kyungsoo gone?

It’s the one question that permeates the corners of your mind as you search for your husband and your son. You had stepped away after slicing the cake you baked for Jeongin’s birthday dinner to fold a few clothes; the chores got away from you, your focus entirely on your husband’s arrival and quiet birthday celebration. However, by the time you came back, the two tricksters were nowhere to be found.

They’re not in Kyungsoo’s toy room, the study, or the backyard. Your husband usually likes to burn off your four-year-old’s energy with a game of tag after dinner, but you don’t hear squeals of glee or anything else to indicate they’re playing. It’s deadly silent, and it puts every one of your nerves on edge.

Trekking up the stairs to the second floor, you realize the last places you haven’t checked for them are your bedroom and Kyungsoo’s across the hall. Tiny giggles emulate from the crack in your son’s door, and you feel relief wash over your bones. You creep quietly so they can continue without being interrupted, listening to the two of them, the inseparable father and son duo.

“‘What is Real?’ asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. ‘Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?’” Jeongin says the words in a high-pitched voice, making Kyungsoo laugh harder than before. When his father continues, however, he goes silent again, eager to hear the next part of the story. He’s just like Jeongin; a jokester, but an inquisitive one.

You forget how long it’s been since Jeongin read Kyungsoo a bedtime story. Work and adult responsibilities had to impede on one of your husband’s favorite ways to spend time with his little boy. He found other ways to make up for missing it, but you know it’s one of the best parts of his day. Perhaps it’s a small birthday wish come true.

“‘Real isn't how you are made,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but really loves you, then you become Real.’

“Papa?” Kyungsoo asks amid Jeongin’s reading of The Velveteen Rabbit, a book you’ve had in Kyungsoo’s library since he was little, but you can barely remember if you’ve ever read it to him before today. His voice is curious but small, and you wonder what his next words will be before he says them.

“Yes, bud?”

“Does that mean you and Mama are Real, too?” Kyungsoo’s question makes your heart swell, the muscle in your chest already overly expanded from listening in on the two of them together. “Because I really love you. Mama too!”

Jeongin chuckles, and you hear his lips kissing the crown of your young son’s head. Your husband plants a dozen into the little boy’s hair, making him giggle again, the sound making you croon internally. “Of course, Soo. The day you were born was the day Mama and I became Real, I think.”

“Really?” Without looking, you can tell Kyungsoo is so curious yet so happy. You feel tears spring to your eyes.

“Really really. And you’re Real too, because Mama and I love you just the same.” Jeongin responds. “Right, Mama?”

Your cheeks heat up, your husband too perceptive for his own good. You should’ve known better; he’s always been able to sense your presence since you were teenagers, no place too big or small for him to not feel you around. You wipe the tears away before cracking the door open, smiling down at your two favorite boys in the world.

A million memories flash in your mind as you look at Jeongin with the nursery book in one hand and your son in the other. The day he asked you out in the library, the night you said yes to his proposal, the moment you held Kyungsoo for the first time. It’s all because of the man whose birthday you not only celebrate, but thank the universe for in the quiet of your own mind. Without him, you’d really be without some of the best things in your life.

“He’s telling the truth, Kiki.” Hearing his nickname makes Kyungsoo’s lips turn up harder at the corners and his ears turn pink, the color matching the shade on your face.

Jeongin kisses the top of Kyungsoo’s head again. “I think it’s time for you to go to bed. But I’ll read the rest to you tomorrow night, alright?”

“Promise?” Kyungsoo holds his pinky out, and Jeongin takes it a second later. “Pinky promises,” in your husband’s words from so long ago, “are no joke, babe. Once you make one, you can’t take it back.”

“Extra pinky promise. I love you, bud.”

He nods and hugs Jeongin tightly in his small arms, an “I love you” leaving the little boy’s lips and settling into his father’s chest. Jeongin feigns weakness under the hold your son has on him, and you giggle. “You gotta stop growing. Soon you’ll be stronger than Uncle Chan.”

Kyungsoo lets Jeongin go so he can get cozy under his comforter. “Love you, Mama,” Kyungsoo says with a small, sleepy grin, his face suddenly riddled with fatigue.

“Love you too, honey.” You blow him a kiss as he shuts his eyes. Jeongin takes your hand in his before he closes the door to your son’s room.

The second you shut your bedroom door, Jeongin has you sprawled out onto the bed and his lips attached to your neck.

He peppers his words in between kisses, his love and admiration for you clear with each press of his mouth on your skin. “I may have lied to Soo earlier.”

You sit up and furrow your brows. “What?”

“I think I became Real the day you told me you loved me for the first time,” he confesses. His eyes gleam with raw intensity, his lips still placing butterfly kisses across your body. He, then, latches them to your collarbones and sucks, marking you in places nobody else will see.

"Ditto" is the only coherent word you can then say aloud. Jeongin smirks against your body and unbuttons your shirt with agonizing slowness. 

“I love you so much, angel,” he whispers as he pulls your shirt off entirely, the lace bralette underneath making his mouth water. “I’m a lucky man, you know that, right?”

“You say that like I’m not also incredibly lucky myself,” you gasp as he yanks your pants and underwear down in the same motion. He hovers back over your body after he takes off his own shirt and pants, the only garment left on him being his underwear.

He reaches into one cup of your bralette to reveal your breast, his lips and tongue latching onto the exposed nipple. You moan quietly, not wanting to disturb your child in the next room.

“Every day is my birthday because I have you and our family. I’m so fucking blessed, angel. You have no idea.” He turns his attention to the other breast, and you feel like a frenzied animal underneath him as he continues to tease you. You move your hand down to palm him over his underwear. You whimper at his firm erection and the wet patch on the fabric.

“Like what you feel, doll? That’s all for you,” Jeongin says, unclipping the bralette from your back to toss away. “For you only, forever.”

You giggle, dazed and breathless. You use your free hand to press one of his own between your thighs. Your slick folds greet him eagerly, his fingers gathering your pleasure in a matter of seconds. “And that’s all for you, Yinnie.”

He rubs your clit between his fingers, and you roll your hips up to meet the movements head-on. You clumsily pull Jeongin’s underwear down over his ass and thighs, the fabric reaching the spot just above his knees, but you don’t care. You need him inside of you, sooner rather than later. “Yinnie, please fuck me.” The lilt in your voice makes the statement sound more like a question. It’s a question you know Jeongin will always answer with quick ease.

“Of course, angel.” You gasp when the head of his dick glides across your folds before he pushes inside. Your walls have to adjust to his size, even after all these years. When he bottoms out, your eyelids flutter and your mouth hangs open from the fullness.

He says your name once he begins thrusting his hips. “I have one birthday wish I didn’t tell you about.”

You moan when he reaches between your bodies to rub your clit once again. “Anything you want, Yinnie. Always.”

He smiles and takes your lips in his, tugging on your bottom lip lightly. His pace between your legs increases, as does his fingers against your center. “I want another baby, sweetheart. Will you give me another one, please?”

When he asks so nicely, and gives you so much pleasure, how could you say no?

It’s been enough time, you think. Deep inside of you, the prospect of another baby, a sibling for Kyungsoo to dote on, has always been on your mind. You just didn’t know when the right time would be.

Now, it seems, is as good of a time as any when Jeongin begs for it so beautifully.

“Yes,” you say finally. “Fill me up, Jeongin.”

“Ah, fuck.” He switches positions, your body in his lap as he bucks up into you. “I’m gonna make you so swollen, baby. Can’t wait to see you pregnant again.”

As he helps you to bounce on top of him, his finger still deftly playing with your clit, you recall the memories of your pregnancy. How excited Jeongin was to feel Kyungsoo’s first kicks, the look on his face when you finally settled on names, and the tears in his eyes when his first child entered the world.

He’s a great husband, and an even better father, and you know without a doubt in your heart, you’d give him a dozen more if he asked you for them. He would love each one to the depths of his soul, the heart inside of him so big you don’t know how it stays inside of his chest.

“Give it to me, Yinnie. I want it so bad. Come inside of me, please.” The words come out in a tumble as you orgasm, your walls fluttering around Jeongin’s cock and your release coating him as he thrusts harder and faster. 

He changes positions once again, throwing your legs over his shoulders so he can truly go deeper than either of you thought possible. “I love you so much, angel.”

It’s the last words on his tongue before he comes, your insides filled with so much of his seed that you know he won’t let it go to waste. He milks the last of his orgasm before he pulls out, only to stuff what’s seeped out of you back into your pussy. Satisfied he’s done his job, he kisses your stomach and pulls you tightly in his embrace, your back to his front. The two of you are covered in sweat and sticky in more ways than one, but he’s so in love and enamored with what’s coming for the two of you, he pays no mind to instantly cleaning up.

“Best birthday ever,” Jeongin says into your neck. You laugh, thinking the celebration might just be for you rather than him. He treats you like a princess, even on days he’s the one who's meant to be ravished with attention and love. But that’s how he’s always been and always will be, a giver more than a taker. “I love you, sweetheart,” Jeongin says.

“I love you too, Yinnie. Always,” you say as you fall asleep, hoping he knows just how real your love is for him.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @lovetaroandtaemin @xomakara @pars-ley @addictedtohobi

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators

[woooshworldtwo]

AT A LOSS

TAGS: WIFE!READER [Originally just mentioned once in dialogue but otherwise just spouse is used when describing said relationship between characters], Husband!Caracalla x Reader x Unrequited!Geta, Mentions of sex, Brief mentions of slavery [gladiators in the Colosseum], Brief mentions of animal cruelty [animals participating in the Colosseum], Historical inaccuracies, I'm not sure what else.

FIRST NOTE: I think I wanted to try accentuating the care he wants to give reader and therefore ends up treating those around him as what he sees them as- disposable and like shit. Geta is a TERRIBLE man so I guess I just wanted him to be pining for someone he knows is out of reach. I was gonna make it a series to like Caracalla x partner reader x unrequited Geta. if this is the first chapter, ngl idk where to trail off from there. i kind of write while im smoking just to fuck around so maybe i could write at least five-ish chapters if i think of a good enough plot. WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE THINK?? who knows i could even do the same with Caracalla, it could make sense cause he literally kills his brother in the movie

SECOND NOTE: pov ur me, high off like five tokes and u watch Gladiator 2 the day it comes out on Paramount+. BOOM, obsessed, love it, don't even care about the historical inaccuracies. For some reason, as someone as not all there like Caracalla is, having that deep relationship with his brother, once he notices that lil interest Geta has, or even just the doubts of others finally becoming to a point where my guy has to LOCK IN to keep his partner w him. not cause they don't love them, I think it would be cause he loves THEM too much. I'm talking bristling at the notion whenever he thinks of them together. JUST UNSPOKEN TENSION. do u guys enjoy that?

THIRD NOTE: unfortunately, i have more to talk about but no one to say it to so ur my audience. yelling into the mic i ask, do you guys think I should write porn of Caracalla and reader FUCKING?? idk if it would even include Geta- IT COULD, WHATEVER YOU GUYS WANT. I sort of just wanted to explore writing intimacy as an actual action instead described as thoughts. leave ur thoughts on what u guys think on that too bc im literally so curious.

PLEASE DON'T COPY MY WORK, I BET YOU

Summer in your lungs, and alcohol swimming in your stomach; Caracalla wonders if he's seen beauty such as yours. Never alone in the hours of the night, the lovers he takes soon notice how harder he is to satisfy, to sedate into a warm puddle wrapped in expensive sheets- instead becoming unflinching to the pleasures that usually melt his tortured mind.

Intense with his emotions, he swears this affection was there from first glance. Taken sight of you at in your hazy glory; the clothes accentuating the shade of your skin, the warmth of your eyes, it only takes months before you two wed.

From there, days are blissful. Misery always follows, but he finds with your company at his side, falling into the episodes of madness are rarer and rarer.

Perhaps it's the sweetness of your soul mending what his lacks, or having the closeness of your body distances the pestering thoughts appearing out of thin air. No matter what is it, with his claws dug into your being- he refuses to let go.

Dimmed by what other's consider insanity, it's difficult not to see Caracalla's growing lucidness. Coming face to face with it, Geta realizes any foes and enemies of Rome has never been as close as his brother has to the inner workings of his mind.

Divided by grace, the affection for you has been its limit. As the eldest, Caracalla bears the pitying glances from other's in the palace; to have the responsibilities laid on Geta is blasphemy, but who else can handle its weight when his mind is in two?

Who else to lessen its everlasting ache if not you? For that reason, such as many others, is why he cannot risk this becoming what he has grown familiar with- sharing with his brother.

Holding the same curiosity he did in the faint moments of childhood, his Adam's Apple bobs faintly- and when you look to follow its movements before returning your gaze to him: a faint shiver is felt and repressed in that same breath. "Caracalla?"

Asking in a murmur, he knows what you're referring to. Living with you these past handful of months, he can recall the number of times you've cut each conversation he's thought out into nothing more than small talk. In one worded questions, he cannot help but admire the relaxed sight of you.

So much so, he allows you to each time. Tossing the unspoken plans of connection for small talk, he nods. A hint of a smile is seen, and alone from that, you beam back at him.

Genuine like the sun, to continue seeing it, it makes it easy for him to keep spew out half thought words in hopes something he says would land. "He will arrive shortly, do not worry.", it ends with your name, echoing from his mouth, and although the God's have given him the same glory they themselves hold at their fingertips; nothing has sounded as holy.

Bounded by faith, the prayers he spills are ingrained in the folds of his brain, but once consumed in these times of power, he wonders if he should dare step closer to the soul he swears should beat for him.

"... Geta?", Unknowing for how much time has past, the beaming smile you once held is melted into a small frown. Quietly urging him to the present like he's seen you do with his brother, there's a warmth blooming in the hallow part of his chest.

Cherishing the brief concern, it only seems to remind him what Caracalla has naturally and what he takes the scraps of.

Still leaned back into the expensive marble, the wall itself is a pale enough color to forget about, instead focusing on the features he, too, fantasizes of in passing moments alone.

"Where did you go?", Too familiar with speaking to the other emperor, the question is thoughtless when spoken, yet its weight is felt nonetheless. "Nowhere. Just here.. Are you enjoying yourself?", Taking a pause, he eventually speaks again. It's done when walking to the the throne nearing Caracalla's; the one you sit in.

"Quite the spectacle.", Your eyes peer down at the sight below; bloodshed in the Colosseum's sand doesn't make your stomach twist like it once did, however when watching captured men swing weapons- and seeing another one fall, you look to him again.

Sitting at his own throne, you find his eyes already on you; a quirk upturning on his lips to show the pleased buzz your words give him. Gladiators from conquered lands, their purpose in Rome is to win their survival and amuse any passing visitors. Yet in the past year or so, since your arrival, he's found a deeper sense of pride at their display.

Growing passed the Senator's praise, passed continuing his parents past teachings, he has found serenity in the amazement you hold so clearly.

Seeing your wonder at the captured animals; their stature towering over the sand's flat ground, using its strength to trample over any competitors- he finds himself chasing the occasional bursts of attention he manages to keep with in your magenta sunlight.

Never promising loyalty to anyone; he chases it when you're unable to give it, the mess of concubines and courtesans who he cannot remember the names nor the faces of, only remembering their similarities to you- their purpose has been asked for more as of late, and neglected all the same soon after.

No matter if it was seeing a person with hair similar to yours, a familiar sounding voice, even just dressed in clothing resembling your own; they were sought out after in hopes of finding you in them.

He finds it only lasts briefly.

Of course sex is endless, at the call of his voice and at the stop of a groan; services are there to satisfy whatever craving he has. But after each round of breathlessness, he finds that hunger for what is missing growing into something insatiable.

Hours spent, feeling their bodies, picturing what your own must look like underneath the white moonlight casting into his bedchambers. Each thrust is heavy with yearning he cannot mend, moaning for warmth he cannot have; he damns Caracalla in those times for finding you first before he did.

Perhaps then would you be his spouse. To bed you the same way his brother does would be true nirvana, to hear those same whimpers he knows you're able to make, to feel you shiver and tighten around him the same way those people do; it's what he longs for.

He's certain then he'd be more than just rough, chasing whatever high is made in a blurry of orgasms- it becomes difficult to differentiate who is with him and who is imagined; not when his eyes are shut and your image is all he sees in its darkness. Tenderness is taught, and if his brother was able to learn to extend that same to you; there is no doubt he'd do the same.

"Are you enjoying it?", Turning your focus back onto Geta, his answer is a hum. The sound is husky from passing thoughts, and strain for what should be hidden; he takes a moment to gather his words.

"I always favor your company, the spectacle is merely entertainment.", Repeating what you said only minutes ago, the unexpressed emotions behind it is registered in your mind- and although brushed off originally, that denial you have becomes harder to not believe Geta's feelings becoming more noticeable in the time spent at his brother's side.

"The ambience of cheering Roman's, animals in pain, and dying men; no wonder we have such lively conversations in these times.", Another quality of yours he finds endearing is your dryness. The harshness soaked into your veins from being raised by your family has not changed you the way it has him he notices; viewing the cruelties of Rome in whatever light you could shed, he once again almost smiles, a quirk of his lips turning upwards showing.

"Complaining to the emperor for the privileges he's given you? What an ungrateful wife you are.", Breaking out into a smile, what is said is anything but malicious. Leaving Caracalla unmentioned; unsaid, his mind is soothed from its ache, mending itself when remembering it's just you and him- hidden away.

Alone in a place where he can pretend you two are more than in-laws, there's a warm stirring at the sound of your laughter. Filled with humor you express so freely, it reminds him of conversations with your father throughout the years; his stories of your youth.

Defiant in ways he wishes he'd seen, and mischievous in ways he knows you still are; the only changes is now you're not tangible. Yet, lost in affections like he never got to be as a boy, he doesn't mind who he's face to face with now. Not in the slightest.

"Forgive my insolence, emperor; I plead for it.", Clearly you speak to Caracalla too much because the shiver trailing up his spine goes directly into that heated feeling in his abdomen. Aware you're unknowing to the effect you have, it only worsens at the hint of playfulness heard.

"Oh, you're forgiven. The God's have extended their mercy onto you today, but be wry, they could change their mind.", Unwilling to give into the arousal brewing, the tension he's created in his body, he replies with a smile- one that lingers too long.

Mischief isn't needed to be noticed in the palace, not with the two emperor's having their souls intertwining themselves with your own- no longer being unheard by those around you, that streak remains. It brings an amusement greater than bloodshed to Geta, and even more so to Caracalla. Smoothness of your words he swears is coated with the sweetest of wines; it disarms what would be seen as scrutiny as nothing more than a jest.

With humor being forgotten in such trying times; outside of what the Colosseum offers, and outside of the different celebrations of another conquered land- Geta finds your spirit is lightening to what is constantly dampening in his.

Shouts of Roman's are heard, like you predicted, and another man falls. However, with neither of you truly paying attention to the sight; their deaths were not offered the same graciousness you're given so carelessly, so frivolously: and when one of the last remaining takes their bow to surrender- only then do you look away.

To see your eyes of amusement grow into something unreadable, his own smile dims into a frown.

Standing from the throne, his hands rest on the Bisellium's railing, he grips onto it tightly when seeing below. Blood stains the sand as always; the deceased laid out over it in the afternoon heat, and the two lone man kneel. Meters away from one another, your eyes flicker between them, and soon Geta speaks up again.

Mercy is yelled in the air, and when he asks you, his voice is quieter than intended, "Shall we show mercy?"

Sparking what was lost, you nod, and another smile is seen, "Mercy."

Prayers do not solve what is inevitable, he finds, not when the God's blood soars through his body. The threat of rebellion, and the stings of betrayal, that mask that hides it all becomes wavering whenever he's with you; wishing to you like he did as a child to the God's for power, to worship you in ways he only should deities- it almost feels blasphemous.

Even more so now, when you don't understand the importance behind what he says; the grace he offers, the laughs he lets slip out- it is only the beginning of what he could promise you.

FOURTH NOTE: Now that you've made it this far, I wanna like drift away from what I was writing on my old account. it was just small paragraphs, but writing on a laptop just HITS DIFFERNT- literal hours spent doing this shit. I don't rlly wanna take requests bc i feel like my time is just too hectic for that, BUT I WOULD LOVE to hear your guys thoughts!! Okay, small series on these characters- Quinn Mossbacher, Simon Kalivoda, Ethan Russell, DIMITRI KRAVIOFF, DANIEL MARKOWITZ, JASON HOCHBERG, and finally our beloved; Caracalla. bad part is I haven't most of the movies they're in, so i don't want it to be inaccurate.

FIFTH NOTE: currently i'm writing a Johnny Storm fic series inspired by the new Fantastic Four trailer (writing the third chapter of what could be a five or even eight part series if I get to understand that franchise better), an Eddie Muson fic mainly just to fuck around and post that old one I never got a chance to. also an Adrian Chase fic i found on my laptop, another one for Koby from the one piece live action (I was inspired when the show first came out), and joe goldberg

FINAL NOTE: I've wanted to get into watching Yellowjackets. LOVE THE SHOW. Another thing I wanted to ask bc when I write for women characters, i like to write them as WLW. SO would you guys like it if i also wrote for Iris (Companion), SISTER BARNES (Heretic), Jinx (Arcane), Lucy Maclean (Fallout), Rhiannon Lewis (Sweetpea)?? one day if i sell out and get a membership to Prime or those silly addons; I WILL.

[thesundowncrew]

Ophelia was glad to see them both nod in agreement. It seemed that the boy had run out of tears (for now) so before she left, she thought it best to see him replenish both body and spirit. The girl was so sweet and soft-spoken, like a fieldmouse Ophelia thought. Since Bran had no energy to speak, she did the talking for them and Ophelia was happy to see her slowly coming out of her shell.

Nettie mentioned the magic kitchen and Ophelia clasped her hands in delight. "Oh fancy that? How wonderful!" before quipping at the ghoul, "It's about time you upgraded from just the crucible."

"It wasn't for me," Sow'in groaned, rolling his eyes.

"I never said it was~" Ophelia teased again. She stood up from her seat and spotted the archway where (she guessed) the newly-made kitchen was. Since Nettie was holding onto Bran, Ophelia took Bran by his other hand and led the chain of children to the kitchen. Sow'in trailed slowly behind, bringing along the basket from the den.

Because Ophelia was so tall, she had to lower her head to make it through the arch. "Come, come! Sit, sit!" she ushered the two to take their seats, as if the kitchen had belonged to her this whole time. There was already a pitcher of water and glasses on the table, courtesy of Sundown. Speaking of which, the island had made its presence known by blowing gently past the faerie's ears. She giggled, appreciating the warm welcome.

"Hello Sundown," she bid, as it was not their first time 'meeting'. "I think for lovely Nettie, a glass of warm milk with honey will be just divine~" As soon as she finished saying it, Nettie's water turned into sweetened milk before her very eyes. Ophelia patted Nettie on her head, enjoying her bundle of energy.

"And for darling Bran-" Just as they've seen Sow'in do a dozen times over, Ophelia summoned a jar of faerie jam from the basket and a teaspoon from a drawer. "-a golden-gooseberry drink should do the trick~"

Two generous teaspoons of jam later, Bran's water had turned a pale golden color and smelled faintly of honey, and citrus-y like orange. Ophelia was careful to keep their glasses separate, knowing only Bran could eat the faerie food. "Drink up! This should also give you back some energy."

"Must you play hostess, even beyond your banquet hall?" remarked Sow'in, placing the basket on a nearby counter.

"OH HO HOHO! Lord Sow'in, if not you then who else?" Ophelia laughed in response, as if she'd just heard the funniest thing. "Besides, taking care of people, ensuring they have what they need, it's what I live for!"

Sow'in released Nettie at last, and the child only faltered briefly before rushing to Bran’s side. She held his hand one more. Bran didn’t resist in the slightest, his own hand limp and damp in her grasp. He gave her a quick but warm glance. Nettie offered him a small smile in return, relieved to see his crying had stopped. She didn’t like to see him sad.

Only if both of you want me to. Nettie nodded in immediate agreement, then looked to Bran hopefully. With a shaky inhale, Bran wiped his eyes, mustering a shred of courage, and gave a tiny nod as well.

At Ophelia’s teasing toward Sow'in, Nettie covered her mouth with her free hand to stifle a soft giggle. Bran couldn’t feel the same amusement in the moment, too focused on regaining his composure. His expression remained solemn and distant.

Something to drink. “There’s a kitchen now,” Nettie told Ophelia. Shyness softened her voice, though excitement and admiration for the faerie brimmed beneath it as well. “It’s a magic kitchen. Sundown made it for us.” The child seemed to have accepted that Bran wasn’t feeling well enough to keep passing whispered messages between her and Ophelia. Now it was Nettie’s turn to speak for both of them.

[spectoo]

tuna mayo ! miya osamu

chapter four – props to you, sakusa

wc 4050 (sorry, this chapter is little long!)

MDNI.

if you'd like to join the taglist , please fill out this form !

13:50.

“Alright, everybody! Thank you for coming to the lecture today, and if you have any questions, please feel free to ask me or any of the TA’s.”

With that being said, everybody in your communications lecture got up and began to either walk towards the professor with curiosity roaming throughout, or pack up and leave. You never really had much trouble with classes, as you were an outstanding student, but to be honest, school wasn’t the only thing on your mind.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Miya Osamu.

Well, more specifically, you couldn’t stop thinking about the food he had made for you. Yes, he himself was running through your mind, but the food was more important. It was seriously some of the best you’ve had. It had been six days since you were at Onigiri Miya, and quite frankly, you’ve been itching to go back.

As you walked out of the building you were in, you were debating if you should go get lunch there. You had work in about an hour and a half, yet, there were numerous thoughts roaming throughout your head.

‘Would it be weird if I went without Atsumu? Or just in general? But, I did tell Miya I was gonna be back eventually…’

The frustration got to you, and in response, you let out a small huff while beginning the short walk to your car. You did want to go back to Onigiri Miya to try other rice ball flavors, but you didn’t want to make things awkward. Would Atsumu be okay with the fact that you found his twin brother attractive?

‘Probably not.’

You reached in your pocket to pull out your car keys, as your car was in full view. If you did want to go to Onigiri Miya, who could you possibly go with? More accurately, who would be the best option to go with?

You didn’t want to take any of your personal friends with you, as you didn’t want them to catch on to the fact that you’re interested in someone new. You opened your car door, and quickly situated yourself.

slam!

You began to scroll through your contacts on your phone to decide who you should take with you.

‘Atsumu, no. Hinata… no. Inunaki? Out of the question. Bokuto, hell no. He has a big mouth.’ Finally your eyes landed on the perfect person to text.

You were surprised at the fact that Sakusa had agreed to come with you, let alone the fact that he was okay with being in the same car as you. You knew he wasn’t a big fan of being pretty close to other individuals, but a win is a win.

You were glad that you became acquaintances with him. He wasn’t the type of guy to really get involved in other people's business, and this was a good opportunity to possibly become actual friends with him.

You put your car in drive, and left campus while setting directions to Sakusa’s apartment, with new thoughts about what you should order when you arrive at Onigiri Miya.

𐙚 OSAMU

As mentioned before, it had been six days since you were last at his store. He had been wondering when you were going to come back.

He was currently sitting in his office at Onigiri Miya, and was filling out some order forms. Rush hour had recently ended, and he was glad he was able to take a short ‘break.’ His three scheduled employees were currently cleaning some areas of the kitchen.

A part of him wished he had asked for your number so he was able to know if you were even going to come back, but then again, you both only met once. And plus, Atsumu considered you to be one of his closest friends. The last time Osamu had expressed to Atsumu that he thought one of his female friends was somewhat attractive, a small, verbal fight had broken out.

Please note that this was back in highschool, too.

Yes, years had gone by, and they’ve both grown into (somewhat) mature adults, but Atsumu was still unpredictable.

‘He probably wants her for himself.’ Osamu scoffed. ‘Selfish pig.’

𐙚 YOU

14:16.

“I’m outside.” You spoke as you put your car in park. You had arrived at Sakusa's apartment complex, which was rather luxurious.

“I’ll be down in a second.” A deep voice responded back through the speakers of your car.

“Okay, bye.” You ended the call.

As you laid back in your seat, you decided to observe the scenery around you. His apartment complex was truly gorgeous. There was a lot of greenery, yet it was all neatly planted. You looked to your left, and saw the volleyball player walking towards your car in his usual outfit – some black gym shoes, black joggers, a black hoodie, and a black mask.

‘He wasn’t even lying when he said he’d be down in a second…’ You thought to yourself as you unlocked the car. 

As he opened the door, he immediately sat down, and quickly settled himself.

You bowed your head as a greeting. Shortly after bowing, you began to nod your head, as you were very impressed with him. “Props to you, Sakusa. You’re very punctual with your timing.”

He pulled down his mask, and bowed back to you. “Thank you, [L/N].” 

You quickly put in the navigation for Onigiri Miya, and began the drive.

“So, how’s your day been?” You ask, trying to start a conversation.

“It was okay. How about you? You had classes today, correct?” He responded neutrally.

You smiled. You remember mentioning your school schedule to Sakusa, yet he didn’t seem to be fully interested as you were telling him. “Correct. My day was great, but I got assigned a project for one of my elective classes. It’s okay though, it was expected."

He let out a small ‘hm' before going on his phone and scrolling. You quickly glanced at him, and focused back on the road, while gently tapping your finger on the steering wheel. ‘So much for communication.’

14:25.

There was about five minutes left of the drive, and you and Sakusa haven’t really spoken a word since your failed conversation, yet, you considered the both of you to be sitting in comfortable silence. ‘Popular’ by The Weeknd was currently playing, and the volume was at the perfect amount. You were internally jamming out, but was interrupted.

“[L/N].”

You look over at the curly haired man sitting beside you, and turn the volume down a bit.

“What’s up?” You ask, turning your head back, and keeping your eyes on the road in front of you.

“Have you been to Onigiri Miya before? Or is this your first time?” 

You were a bit taken back by this, even though it was pretty unserious. “Uh, yeah. I tried it for the first time about a week ago.”

A small silence… “I went with Atsumu and Hinata.” You continued, in a less confident manner.

“Ah.” Sakusa looked out his window, and you thought that was the end of the conversation. Yet, he spoke once more, turning back to you. “So, you met Osamu? What did you think of him?”

Your heart dropped. Logically speaking, you shouldn’t even be concerned in this first place, but why was he asking question, after question? You decided to stay quiet for as long as you possibly could, while thinking of a proper answer. A couple seconds have gone by at this point, and Sakusa was still staring at you, expecting an answer.

You quickly turn your head towards him, with a still face, and turn back. “Um, you know… Miya seems like a nice guy.” Your eyes quickly move to the ETA on your carplay. ‘2 minutes…’ With that being said, you pressed the gas pedal with a little more pressure to speed up. You didn’t know where this conversation was going, which made you a bit tense.

Sakusa seemed to notice this, and nodded his head, deciding to stop talking.

‘What was that even about? Like? ... Oh, I have to turn here.’

You make a right turn, and enter the plaza where Onigiri Miya is located. It’s all starting to seem familiar to you. You decide to park in the same spot you were in last time, and after you turn off your car, both you and Sakusa get out simultaneously. He quickly pulled his mask up, and the both of you walked to the door.

You opened the door for him, and went in behind him. Immediately after entering, you’re both greeted by one of the female employees at the store.

“Hello, welcome in!” she spoke as she bowed to the both of you.

You both nodded back. You and Sakusa walked closer to the counter, and the first thing you noticed was that Osamu wasn’t in your sight at all. You were immediately disappointed, yet didn’t think much of it. As you look up at the menu, you hear Sakusa speak.

“Could you tell Miya to come to the front?”

The disappointment you felt earlier was gone at once.

“No problem.” 

You briefly look at the worker, and see her walking to the back, most presumably to his office.

‘Round two, Miya.’ You smirked.

𐙚 OSAMU

knock knock!

“Boss, Sakusa is here with someone else, and he asked for you!”

Osamu immediately looked up from his paperwork, and put his pen down. ‘No shot.’ He thought as he got up, and straightened out his clothes.

He opened the door that leads out of his office, and to the kitchen. He could feel some anxious feelings being brought up within himself, but paid no mind. “Thank you, Ito. Could you go help prepare some fillings?”

“Yes.” She slightly bowed, and walked away.

Osamu began walking towards the front. He saw Sakusa first, staring back at him. And… It was you. A little bit distant from Sakusa, and looking at the menu.

“Hey, Sakusa.” Osamu turned to look at you, to already see you staring back at him. “Hello, [L/N]. I was wonderin’ when you were gonna show up again.” He said as he put his hand on his hips, while internally cursing himself out. He was trying to act nonchalant, but his true feelings got the best of him.

You responded with a chuckle. “Hey, Miya. I would’ve showed up sooner, but school got the best of me.”

As you and Osamu began a new conversation about what you would potentially be ordering this time, nothing between the both of you went unnoticed by Sakusa. Yes, he was quiet sometimes, but he was still observant. He noticed how you had that little smile plastered upon your face while talking with Osamu. He also noticed how Osamu’s cheeks began to flush a very light pink color, which Sakusa has never seen him do before.

“Helloooo, earth to Sakusa? Are you there?” He immediately snaps out of his daze to see you waving your hand at a safe distance in front of his face. “Hello.”

“Ya want the usual, ‘Omi?” Osamu began tapping some buttons on his register, before Sakusa could respond. Yet, nothing was wrong with this as the curly haired man began to nod his head.

“Uh, also, put [L/N]’s order on the same bill as mine.” He quickly spoke, putting his hands in his pocket.

You raised an eyebrow, and turned to Sakusa. “Oh? Why?”

“You picked me up, and drove me here.”

You stayed silent for a second, truly wondering if he was being serious. Yet, you internally grinned. This was your opportunity to drop the ‘friend’ bomb on him.

“Um… we’re friends. I don’t mind having to drive you to places.” Nailed it.

He sighed, and pulled his mask down. “I suppose. I’ll still pay, though.”

You shrugged, and internally came up with the solution to just pay for him the next time you both get food together. “Okay… um… I think I’ll do two bonito flake rice balls, and three tenmusu.”

“What? No vigorous amount today?” Osamu responded back, tapping more buttons on his screen.

“I actually can’t. My stomach began to hurt after I got back to my apartment last time.”

“What did ya expect? Ya had fifteen onigiri.” He grinned as he put both of his hands on the counter in front of him.

“Excuse me, [L/N]? You had fifteen?” Sakusa looked absolutely disgusted.

You didn’t even know what to say. You pursed your lips together and looked away. After a couple of seconds of silence between the three of you, you spoke up, and pointed to a table in the corner. “I’m going to sit there.” And with that being said you, walked away.

“Alright, ‘Omi. Yer total is ¥2,500. Ya doin card?”

Sakusa nodded his head, and handed Osamu his card. “By the way, could you, uh, make my onigiri to go?”

Osamu briefly looked up at the man in front of him, and looked back down to the card reader. “Yer not eatin’ with [L/N]?”

“I am, it’s just in case.”

Osamu let out a small “hm,” and handed Sakusa his card back. “Should be out in a couple minutes.”

With that, Sakusa walked to the table you were at, and took a seat across from you. You put your phone down, and the both of you begin to have a small conversation about relations to MSBY.

14:38.

“Order up.”

You and Sakusa both look at Osamu, holding a ceramic plate with one hand, and a plastic bag with the other. Sakusa gets up and bows to him, then grabs both from him without any issue. 

“Whose bag is that?” You ask while pointing at it.

“Oh…” Sakusa puts your plate on the table, yet doesn’t sit back down. “It’s mine. My um– Meian texted me and asked me to come early to practice. So I got my food to go.”

You stare at him with a bewildered look on your face. “Meian texted you?” You tried confirming. You don’t remember him going on his phone since you both walked into the store, and you know that Meian would not be the one to text him, it would be Coach Foster.

“Yeah… so I’ll be leaving.”

You slowly nod your head. He didn’t sound too confident with his answers, and at this point, you knew he was making this up. “Okay, no problem. But how are you gonna get there? I drove you, ya’ know.”

Sakusa averted his eyes from you, and to the window behind, and almost immediately, a red Lexus EX, with tinted windows, halted directly in front of the store. As you heard the tires screeching, you turned around to get a quick look, and before you knew it, Sakusa bolted out of Onigiri Miya, and almost instantly, got into the car.

You watched with so much confusion as the car sped away, wondering where everything within this situation went wrong. Soon enough, you could hear footsteps getting closer to you, yet you continued to look out the window.

“Did Sakusa just leave ya by yerself?” A deep voice spoke. You didn’t even have to look at the person to know who it was.

“Yeah, it was really weird. I’ve never seen him leave abruptly like that.” You can feel Osamu’s eyes on you, and as you turn around to look at him, you’re met with a view of his sculpted chest, yet, at a safe distance. The shirt he was wearing wasn’t even covering the outline of his upper body. 

You internally thanked God for this view, although eventually realized that you were quite literally just staring at his chest. You quickly shift your eyes to his face, only to be met with a smirk, which causes the tips of your ears to turn red. ‘Fuck.’ Is the only word appropriate enough to react with, because how else would you respond to this situation?

“Would ya like me to make yer onigiri to go? I doubt you’d wanna stay here by yerself.” Osamu asked, crossing his arms and keeping that smug look on his face.

You thought to yourself for a moment, and realized that this was your chance to learn more about him. And probably throw in a little flirting.

You put your right elbow on the table, and put your cheek in the palm of your hand, still keeping eye contact with Osamu. “Y’know, I would say yes, but I did come here for a reason.”

“Oh? Care ta’ elaborate?” 

You mentally shrieked like a teenage girl. You loved where this was going. “What fun would there be if I did, Miya?”

𐙚 OSAMU

‘Is this actually happening?’

You coming to Osamu’s store was already the highlight of his day, but this conversation the two of you are having? He can’t handle it. Just imagine how he feels – he’s been wanting to see you for almost a week, and his wish has been fulfilled. Even with more added to it!

Then, almost instantly, he had the best idea. ‘Should I do… it?’ He wondered. He didn’t want to come off as weird, but he thought of a way to continue this conversation, and see more of your face while working.

He let out a brief huff, and grabbed your plate with the five uneaten rice balls on it. 

“My food.” You whined, just loud enough for him to hear. He thought that was cute.

He then sets your dish at the counter that overlooks the kitchen, which could give whoever sits there a clear view of him and his employees, making the food.

He looks back at you, and motions for you to come and sit there. “I’ll keep ya company while ya eat.”

‘Was that slick enough?’ He asked himself, feeling unsure, but when he sees you pick up your necessities, and start walking to him, he can’t help but feel like he’s won the lottery.

𐙚 YOU

As you get closer, you watch the handsome man as he pulls out a specific chair for you, and you gladly take a seat. Then after, he pushes you in, and goes behind the counter, preparing to make more rice balls for his display case.

“Do you treat all your customers like this?” You asked, finally picking up one of your onigiri, and taking a bite out of it.

Osamu is directly in front of you, and as you’re chewing, your eyesight falls to his hands, looking through the glass, and watching the way he is sculpting the rice.

‘So he’s good with his hands, huh?’

“Eh, just the pretty ones.”

You immediately look back up at him, to see him already staring at you. You swallowed, and spoke. “Acting confident, are we?”

He chuckled, and began to wrap the onigiri he had just completed. “I’m just tellin’ it how I see it.”

You rolled your eyes while smiling, and took another bite of your food. “Thank you.”

Osamu briefly walked away to put the onigiri on display, which gave you some time to observe him, but from behind. You realized he had an upside down triangle body shape, which you found incredibly attractive. Your eyes then moved to his butt, and you cursed yourself in your head. ‘Why can’t mine be as big as his?’

“Oi, [L/N]. Ya checkin’ me out?” His voice startled you, causing you to instantly look anywhere else but him.

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” You denied. He could see right through you. He knew you were staring at him, and truth to be told, he didn’t mind at all.

You move your eyes back to his face, and sigh, before taking another bite out of your onigiri.

“Whatever ya say.” He began to work on the next onigiri, and once more, you looked at the way his hands stuffed the rice with filling.

15:08.

Time had gone by since you were seated at the counter, and you were nearing the end of your little trip to Onigiri Miya. You had already finished all five of your onigiri towards the beginning of your conversation with him, but stayed to talk. You ended up learning more about him, and he learned about you. 

He told you that he was from the Hyogo prefecture, and he grew up with no other siblings besides Atsumu. He had also mentioned that he went to Inarizaki, and played volleyball as a kid, up until highschool. He was a wing spiker, and he was damn good at what he did. When it came down to you, you told him where you grew up, and how many siblings you have in contrast to him. You brought up the fact that you had played a couple of different sports when you were a kid, but didn’t have the passion to really continue as you grew older.

As the both of you were laughing at a joke you had made, you looked down at your phone, and saw the time. You had to leave for work now if you didn’t want to be late and risk getting lectured by one of your supervisors.

You sighed as you stood up, and handed Osamu your plate.

“Ya gotta go?” He asked, taking it from you, and putting it in the sink.

“Yeah, unfortunately I have work at 15:30.” 

He wanted to tell you something along the lines of ‘Who cares about your job? Just skip work and stay here with me!,’ but obviously, he couldn’t. Instead, he said with a thin lined smile, “Well, ya gotta do whatcha’ gotta do.”

You nodded as you stood up, and grabbed your necessities, shoving them in your pockets. You look at Osamu, and bow. “Thanks for keeping me company, Miya. You didn’t have to.”

He began to wave one of his hands in a dismissive way. “Ya don’t have to bow, [L/N]. In all honesty, I wanted to continue talking to ya. Yer a lighthearted person, and ya can’t find much of that nowadays.”

Your eyes literally twinkled at that compliment. “I appreciate that. For all that It’s worth, thanks for not being unamusing.” And with one final bow, you began to make your way to the door.

Your heart began to pound, due to the fact that you were proud of yourself. Proud of yourself for not acting awkward, and for having a good time with a ten out of ten. Before you could reach the door handle, said ten out of ten called out to you.

“Wait, [L/N].” You turned around to already see him walking to you, phone in his hand. You waited until he got close enough to you, and when he did, you both stood there, staring at each other. It seemed like he wanted to say something, but was hesitating.

Therefore, you took initiative. “Are you okay?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. Then, almost instantly, he held out his phone, with the contact app already opened.

“Can I have yer number?”

You swore you almost fainted.

“U-uh, yeah! Sure.” You quickly muttered out, trying to hide the blush that was present on your face.

You also grabbed your phone and opened the contact app, ultimately, switching phones with each other.

𐙚 Bonus

14:39.

After Ongiri Miya was out of distance, Sakusa groaned, and looked at the individual who was driving the red Lexus. “Why do you drive like a maniac?”

“Nevermind that! Do you think she’s going to end up staying?”

Sakusa turned his head to look out the passenger window, and stayed silent for a couple of seconds, thinking about a proper answer. “In truth, I believe she’s going to stay. They seemed to take a liking to one another.”

A satisfied hum was used as a response by the driver, and after a few moments of tranquility between the two, Sakusa spoke once more.

“I don’t understand why you’re getting involved in a non-existent romantic relationship that isn’t yours, Hinata.”

The ginger rolled his eyes, and focused back on the road. “It might be non-existent now, Sakusa, but I get the vibe that they’re eventually going to end up together.” His mood lightened up, and he began to grin.

“Why not help kickstart her future relationship?"

authors notes !

𐙚 sorry that this chapter was long ! i kinda just word vomitted , and stuck with it .

𐙚 reblogs are always appreciated !

𐙚 i hope you enjoyed this chapter , my beloved reader-chan ! <3

taglist: @reuka1 @enepsigosthelast @arwawawa2 @miruac

[fisheito]

THE YAKUEI FANGAME

for those who don't know: there is a yakuei fangame!! for free!!! IN ENGLISH?!?!? that i am about to ramble about!! It's got great art, ForReal writing, and as much humour/😨 as NuCa itself 😊😊 also, (almost) everyone has animal traits. YE,A BOYE!!!!

The estimated playtime is 1.5hrs, but I spent 4 hrs trying to complete everything without a guide;;;;;;

Expectation: i bet it's a short visual novel! a oneshot but in game form? if the creator REALLY went hard with the gameplay, maybe they'd throw in a few choices? to unlock diff dialogue branches? an hour of content at most, probably. maybe fluff about yakuei living their everyday lives and being cute/silly together 😊

Reality: everyone in the clan is here. they are in character. their lives are all intertwined and there IS a plot. there are puzzles. multiple endings. multiple CGs. you will need to think. OOPS! EMOTIONS!! GET WRECKED!!! eiden is, as usual, in a neverending Situation and you WILL feel the effects. this is a full-ass game with mistakes lurking around every corner HOW LONG DID THIS TAKE TO MAKE??!?!?! i.e.,

Keep Reading only if you are ok with SPOILERS.

Before we even reach the title screen, content warnings pop up for: sexual implications, cannibalism, drug abuse and my immediate response is HAHAHAHA! Of course!! can't have a yakumo game without cannibalism or vore in it, amirite??? aaaaaaahhhh cLASSIC yakumo 😙😆 <- i'm having a giggle but not really thinking about it. oh, but i'll be thinking about it in approximately 3 hours. fool.

Come to think of it, I don't think this game has a Log function. If someone finds it, please share the magic keys 😥 i wish i could have read past text... i've accidentally skipped a lot of stuff... oh well. let this be a warning to my future self: USE ALL YOUR SAVE SLOTS! FREQUENTLY! EVERYWHERE!

HALF SNAKE YAKUMO! HALF SNAKE YAKUMO!! HALF SNAKE YAKUMO!!!!!!!!!! *slams my fists on the table*

having yakumo worming/trailing behind eiden is so cute i'm just gonna walk around in circles on the screen while his tail wiggles

this demon king shows up and i immediately wonder if it's the other Eiden. he has the same goofy dramatic energy. please don't kill Other You, eiden... make love, not war.......

edmond as a horse yokai is PERFECT 😭

the way i YELLED when i saw edmond appear!!!!!!!!! i thought this game was just gonna be yakuei. to have MORE characters included?!?!? AMAZING! MORE THAN I COULD ASK FOR!

i really truly wish to disturb the worker in the fields, . please. please let me disturb them

the FEAR i felt when the bartender said his cookie had alcohol in it=--!! I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH EIDEN, SLAPPING THE COOKIE OUT OF YAKUMO'S HAND. NONE FOR YOU. FORBIDDEN

eiden being respectful and constantly saying "I'm not that nosy" in other peoples' houses?? WELL I *AM*!! LET ME INNNNNNNNNNNNN

"It's empty, like my soul." 🤝 we too

looks like i managed to screenshot morb and aster ? i was probably so enamoured with morvay's roundness that i simply had to take a picture. HURRAY FOR FAMILIARS!!!! THEY'RE HERE!!!!!!! and they're bickering, like usual. these sprites are adorable. i stare at morb a while longer.

aster is EVERYONE's landlord. so powerful and cute at the same time. terrifying. i legit laughed tho because really, the writer has SYNCED UP with the nuca wavelength. plot holes? no such thing. everything is explained, but with reasons across the entire spectrum from Logical to Ridiculous 😆

BLADE AS A FLUFFY SOFT PUFFBALL 😭 AND HOW HE DOESN'T UNDERSTAND DANTE'S TSUN-NESS . THEYRE SILLY TOGETHTTEHR!!!! blade dressing up as fluffy sphere is so precious… like how he would wear pajamas even though he doesn't need to sleep!!! he wants to look cute and dress up like his friends!! and have fun sleepovers together!!!!!!!!!

In retrospect, this was where i went wrong. At this point, i had ALREADY COMMITTED A GRIEVOUS ERROR. This early in the game, and i'm locked out of the true(?) ending!! WOOPS;;; I thought the game would be straightforward? HAH! Not to a tomfool such as myself!! This was the beginning of Me Making Every Possible Wrong Decision , thus extending my playtime to a time faaar longer than expected 😅. I am not a Gamer. Nor am i genre-savvy. my poor decisions have doomed me to wander through the assets for eternity, trying convoluted tactics that have no effect on the story, while not noticing the IMPORTANT stuff.

What did I do? I chose to accompany morv through the forest. "i don't want morv to be in danger! At least if eiden and yakumo are with him, there'll be less chance of him getting morvnapped!" WRONG! Morvay is perfectly capable of scouting by himself. i should have believed in him more. i shouldn't have tried to smother him with my love. this incubus is older than me, and i should have respected my elder's independence 😣😩

I do not wander deeper into the forest as a result. Straight to rei's we go. Mr. Science Bird sends me out on plant-picking duty, and I think I'm soooOOoo clever by gathering more plants+flowers than I need.

Rei says he only needs 3 of each, BUT THERE ARE MORE THAN 3 HERBS/FLOWERS IN EACH FIELD. Thus, I shall pick MORE than the minimum amount! Maybe it'll be like the Rainy Day event, where the virtualias will be the key to escaping the yokai realm...?? where every person who needs to escape , needs to have their own flower?? so if i gather up enough to save at LEAST yakumo and eiden, and maybe some others who might be trapped.......

WHY IS THERE ONE VIRTUALIA THAT I CAN'T REACH? ?!!?💢💢 (inhales deeply) it's fine. i'm sure the creators wouldn't have designed that so it would be a game breaker. besides, it's not ethical harvesting to take EVERY flower at once. i need to leave some behind so they can regenerate at a healthy rate. don't be greedy!! don't clear-cut the forests for their strange herbs/virtualia resources!!!!! (i later went back to both fields and clear-cut the forest floor of all their strange herbs/virtualia, since i was paranoid and thought i would need a pair of plants for every clan member in the game. i don't know why i thought that. i didn't even know what the plan was afterward. the numbers don't even work out!!!! i just collected EEVERYTHING I COULD REACH . IN CASE OF EMERGENCY. UNPREDICTABLE PLANT EMERGENCY)

got to pet the dog . Top tier game A+++++

I hand over the plants. Rei shoos me out. I panicked when we first finished chatting with rei because SUDDENLY, THERE WAS NO WIGGLY SERPENT BEHIND ME AND I WAS LIKE YAKUMO? YAKUMO WHERE DID YOU GO? YOU DIDN'T WANDER TOO FAR OFF, DID YOU? IF I GO INTO THE FOREST ON MY OWN, WILL EIDEN DIE? IS THIS WHERE IT ALL ENDS? YAKUMOOOOOOOOO WHERE ARE YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU oh./ oh, there you are. HI!!!!!!! phew [yakumo and eiden have a cute lil moment by the campfire and i am relaxed, content, just chillin.]

(once again, in retrospect, i should not have been so attached to yakumo. it's good to spend time apart....)

I can't access the forest paths that I missed earlier, so I go ahead with the plot and tell Rei that the food is ready.

At the demon king's castle, i have a grand time investigating all the assets: - Discount statues - that suspicious bookcase (EVERY bookcase in this game became suspicious after I read that restaurant menu. I kept thinking kuya was going to pop out of one. That, or I had to collect 9 bookmarks from 9 separate bookshelves in order to gain the 9 Leaves of Respect kuya holds for eiden, which would somehow ensure a successful escape). - stained glass windows just like in the Nu World event - ominous clock ticking at me - that massive door that WON'T BUDGE? err.... well maybe it'll unlock after I explore the rest of the castle!

I find it a bit strange that the game would include so many clan members, but not quincy or kuya. maybe... they were too powerful to be dragged into a world like this? or they're super elusive and aren't meant to "show up" as obviously as the others??? <- delusional thinking. quincy and kuya ARE supposed to show up. skill issue.😑

So I explore the RIGHT side of the castle. um. and finally the doubts about yakumo are starting to solidify.

Audience: You're kind of slow, aren't you, Fish?

WELL!! i know that the disclaimer at the beginning said that "following yakumo's advice" would not necessarily get you the ending you desire, ., , , , so i knew that yakumo would have his own goals in mind....... but.................idk, i didn't have a reason to go against his decisions so far in the game?? he and eiden haven't been faced with a huge divisive decision so far, right???

Audience: what about "make sure to stay close to me, Mr Eiden"?

yeah.. when he said that, my instinct was to immediately split off from him in the castle but i... never got the option... 😞

anyway. i'm wandering thru the flesh maze in which i check EVERY dead end. i try to INTERACT with every dead end. idk if there are multiple rooms hiding in here. i gotta be thorough (.there were not multiple rooms in there. flesh-scouring chump.)

Only when I'm standing in the yaku-room replica do i give a SEVERE side-eye to yakumo He won't let me check the thing next to the anemones HOW DARE HE STOP ME FROM LOOKING AT SOMETHING. WHAT AR EYOU HIDING. LET ME BE NOSY. I'LL INVESTIGATE WHATEVER I WANT

what are the red anemones for, yakumo. what are they for? WHAT SECRETS ARE YOU HIDING FROM US?!?!?! HIDING THE TRUTH DOESN'T PROTECT US YOU KNOW, TELL US THE TRUUUUUUUUUUTH

After eiden TRIES😒 to investigate everything and i have a giggle at yakumo weakly yet firmly stopping eiden from talking about their roleplay mirror escapade (yakumo. it's just you and eiden in the room.are you only stopping him from speaking because you'll die of embarrassment? come on 🤣), i leave the room... i investigate the out of place knight statue in the main hall... it tells me about the hidden mirror! and i

ENDING 2/3: WHAT THE FUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJJ I THOUGHT WE WERE JUST HAVING A FLUFFY GOOD TIME DOING FAVOURS FOR FRIENDS AND ADMIRING EVERYONE'S ANIMAL EARS YAKUMO WHAT DID YOU DO WHERE IS EIDEN ARE WE EIDEN? IS EIDNN REAL??????????? YAKUMO SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAA

NOW BEGINS THE TIME OF RELOADING SAVES. REPEATEDLY. AND STARTING ENTIRELY NEW GAMES BECAUSE MY SAVES WERE NOT VERY ORGANISED OR PLACED AT KEY JUNCTURES.

I START COMBING THROUGH *EVERYTHING*. VISITING THE SAME BUILDINGS AFTER EVERY PLOT POINT. TALKING THROUGH THE SAME DIALOGUES AGAIN AND AGAIN. I WILL FIGURE THIS OUT.

Going through the game more carefully makes me realise how many things i missed. This... this is no joke. This game has LAYERS and GrassTheOriginator was noT PLAYING AROUND WHEN IT CAME TO THE DETAILS

FIRST OF ALL!! I CAN'T BELIEVE I MISSED LUNCH!!!! HOW COULD I HAVE MISSED LUNCH WITH YAKUMO'S BELOVED GRANDPARENTS?!?! i was positively negligent. how could i have not checked in with granma and granpa at every step of the way to make sure that they knew where we were and that they were both healthy and thriving. i cannot believe i only checked the house ONCE in my 1st playthrough. i missed out on eiden bullying yakumo + yakumo getting flustered + grandma's "youth are so lively♥ haha". HOW DARE I!!!!!

When I GET TO EXPLORE the forest paths i missed last time, Discovering the bed in the woods had me go🌲🌲 AHA!!!!!! YES! i knew something was missing from my first playthru!! i did NOT MEET EVERYONE and we all know eiden's not completely happy until we're with EVERYONE IN THE CLAN

mr quinquin hasn't made his appearance. that elusive beast. i must lure him out. for completion's, sake. for EITO'S TRUEST HAPPINESS!!!!!!!!! *RANSACKS GRANDPARENTS' HOUSE FOR SNACKS*

because i saw that ONE little tree glitter with animal essence, i started suspecting EVERY tree that looked like it

I save scummed for a while to see if approaching the ✨tree at different points would bring out kuya or something. or maybe even the tanuki. something that will help me get the good ending?

(it was probably the tapir. i forgot that the game page on itchio mentioned fanciful capriccio until i got to the true end.. so... Past Me thought kuya was jumping from tree to tree to make me chase him around)

i ended up inspecting EVERY LITTLE TREE I COULD TOUCH

yep, definitely a tree.

GET OUT HERE YOU DAMNED FOX YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE I HAVENT MET YET!!! GET YOUR UGLY FACE IN HERE!!! OLD MAN!!! BESTOW UPON ME YOUR REALITY-SHATTERING WISDOM, RIGHT NOW!!!!

Quincy SAID you were lingering around. SHOW YOURSELF!!!!

I WANT TO KNOW WHAT THAT GRAVESTONE IS. IN REI'S YARD…. REI, PLEASE…… THERE ARE TOO MANY SECRETS. IS IT MOM? IS IT THE REAL REI? IS IT SOME RANDOM CORPSE YOU STOLE FOR EXPERIMENTS? PLEASE!! I'M LOST IN THE WEB OF LIES

i love how every time i check rei's shelf, i see a new drug. Bone fixing juice (not a drink)? Pure liquid caffeine (maybe garu got into that…)? fox repellant??? 🤣🤣🤣 only the necessities!!

* crawling out of the dirt, bruised and bleeding, after trying slight differences here and there . to try and figure out the true ending for myself* WAIT… I HAVE ONE LAST THING I MUST TRY… THE HERBS… GIVE REI THE WEIRD LITTLE GIFTS!! THEY'RE LUCKY GIFTS, RIGHT? IT'S NOT BAD TO USE GIFTS LIKE THIS, RIGHT..?!??!?!

YEAAAASSSSSSS!!!!!! YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS YTEAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! NEW PATH! NEW THING! I BROKE THROUGH! THAT'S THE LAST CLAN MEMBER YEAH! YEAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!I MIGHT BE ABLE TO MAKE IT THIS TIME!!!!!!! YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU STUPID OLD FOX!! YOU'RE INFURIATING IN EVERY UNIVERSE!!! IMPOSSIBLE TO FIND (or maybe i'm just bad at this game. maybe everyone else playing this diidn't spend hours Doing EVERYTHING wrong, before FINALLY doing the ONE correct thing 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣) the whole "seeing kuya's expression all blurry" is such a cool image tho i'm like, of course yakumo is fighting it but kuya is stubborn and will still knock at the glass between his purple self and dream-eiden heheheehheeh ominous purple peepaw is here to insult everyone in a plot-expository manner. finally.

Just taking a moment to appreciate yokai birdy rei putting yakumo through the lab assistant wringer. :) destroy him, sweetie.

.approaching yakumo at the campfire afterward. WAIT NO I COULDNT RESIST AND I MADE ANOTHER BAD DECISION BECAUSE OF THE COMPLETIONIST'S URGE

"don't tell hiim", i told myself. if you tell him, that alerts him to kuya's presence, and your new knowledge,, and he's going to DOUBLE DOWN on keeping you captive and i've only gotten 1 ending despite all my random tinkering so I BET YOU THAT THIS IS WHERE THE LAST TWO ENDINGS SPLIT

Brain: DUDE DO NOT TELL HIM Me: But yakumo keeps saying "Please feel free to tell me if anything is bothering you, Mr Eiden." So why wouldn't Mr Eiden tell him about what is bothering him? :< Brain: YOU'RE GONNA BE SO PISSED OFF Me: [tells yakumo anyway] …….timeskip…………. -> yakumo going "i didn't want to do this to you" Me: SAVE FILE????NOW???????!😨 -> ENDING!!! GET EATEN, IDIOT

Me: 😶 Brain: what did i tell you. i told you not to tell him. AND LOOK WHERE THAT GOT YOU. YOU FOUND OUT WHWERE THE CANNIBALISM CONTENT WARNING CAME FROM, BECAUSE YOU CANNOT RESIST MAKING STUPID DECISIONS Me: but but but isn't it good to keep the line of communication open? how is it a healthy relationship if eiden keeps secrets from yakumo? wouldn't it be more progressive to tell him the truth of seeing kuya, so he can have time to contemplate his actions-- Brain: YOU IDIOT!! YAKUMO IS NOT IN HIS SANE MIND NOW. OPEN COMMUNICATION IS NOT THE SITUATIONALLY APPROPRIATE MOVE. HE'S BEEN KEEPING THIS WHOLE WORLD'S TRUTH A SECRET FROM YOU,, RIGHT??? SO YOU CAN KEEP A SECRET. SHUT UR M OUTH. Reload your save and pick the right answer for once in your life, PLEASE Me: 😔 ….. ………… ok but what if i DON'T reload from the decision of whether or not to share kuya's presence with yakumo……. AND I JUST RUN FROM HIM *NOW*? THERE HAS TO BE A REASON THERE'S A SAVE POINT THERE, RIGHT? if escape was impossible, they wouldn't give you a checkpoint like that, RIGHT??

Audience: you.. you didn't think about running at ALL? Me: Nope Audience: what, so you just let him get you? Me: Yep. Just stood there. I figured my decisions already sealed my fate. The cutscene was just playing out. Audience: After a save point. Me: Yes, after a save point. Audience: Have you... ever played games like this before? the little adventure rpgs with pixel art? Me: No, but i've seen people play things like Ib and Ao Oni Audience: you need to run- Me: right... you DID need to run in those games Audience: after strategic save points. because there's a chance you might want to RETRY that sequence Me: OH..... Audience: ,if you didn't just. stand perfectly still Me: ... i may have zero survival instincts. please be patient. 😂

Brain: OMFG WHY MUST YOU INSIST ON-- Me: I SWEAR I SWEAR!!!!! I JUST WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENS. IT PROBABLY WONT CHANGE ANYTHING MAYBE. AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH RUN TO THE YAKUROOM WE HAVE THE PATH MEMORISED SINCE WE'VE GONE THROUGH IT SO MANY TIMESSSSSSSSSSSSSS

actually. this chase reminds me of something. you remember back on DIK Island and eiden is chasing dante on the beach and if you're foolishly optimistic enough, you can pretend they're surrounded by shoujo bubbles and flowers while they giggle and prance along the shore but reality hits and it's full of claws yeah. Eiden dreaming of a flowery situation while ACTUALLY dealing with something ... a little less peaceful. there's no end to eiden's troubles, huh.

ok. back to it. let's see what's in the yakuroom... ]reads the new description for the anemones[

[hisses in a breath] yikes….///////////.😬 not the "anticipation" yakumo lied about…. uhm, uh,..... maybe i accidentally made it onto the true ending path. maybe it WASn"T about lying to yakumo at the campfire Brain: I am so fed up with you Me: 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔 WAIT!!! NOW I'M IN THE ROOM ALONE!! TIME TO READ HIS DIARY AND GO THROUGH ALL THE STUFF HE DIDN'T WANT ME TO CHECK YEAAAAAAAAAAA Brain: all this hiding stuff ,,, feels like... being held captive in an unhealthy relationship, bro Me: you're a bit behind the plotline dude we just narrowly avoided getting devoured like pull-apart bread Brain: fair enough. carry on.

oh…. yakumo…………. baby………………………..😫😢😭😭😭…………………… eiden was so right… indulgence is NOT necessarily the best step… urrgh,, eiden you are so cool and emotionally smart and skilled and i'm so glad you can navigate these messy social waters better than i ever could..!! especially when so much is at stake 😨

wait. why is there a flesh maze in the first place? Audience: it's yakumo's braaaaaaaaain and what are the weird holes?? Audience: yakumo's brain on DRUGS!!!!! we're running around in yakumo's brain on drugs, full of dead ends. Got it!

then we're talking to yakumo in the shifting void: my expression the entire time is EYES BulGING. FACE FROZEN. MOUTH IS :| I AM SO STRESSED

gets reset

SUNUVA ABITCHUOIGFHFHFHFFIEOFDSRDFKOWAPESOI I ANSWERED WRONG, DIDN'T I I DIDN'T MATCH THE RIGHT NAME TO THE RIGHT ACTIVITY i"M GONA FEAUISRHGOIEFRIEOSGPAWEFISPIPDKAESEPFESFAFPGO 8CRAKCS OPEN YAKUMO'S DIARY we're MEMORISING THIS WE ARE EMBEDDING IT INTO OUR LONG TERM MEMORY. LET'S GO COME ON! WE WILL DO THSI!!!!!!!!!!!

Brain: Wait. How did you answer the clan member section wrong Me: um. i. well, i just based it off memory. i didn't think the number of blank spaces meant anything….. Brain: dude. the number of blank spaces SPELL OUT THE NAME OF THE CORRECT PERSON, SO MAYBE THEY MATTER. Me: oh. uhhhh. ahahahaha. well. it's 2AM. we've been at this for a while. i don't think i'm picking up on obvious clues anymore. um...not that i was picking up on them earlier either….. Brain: facepalm faceslap deskpalmdeskface sigH

oh. OH!! ok, so!! trying it again!! eiden moves closer with every right answer, right?! yeah! so! we might be able to reach yakumo if we-- AH SHITE HE DIDN'T MOVE FORWARD FOR THAT ONE

gets reset

OH COME ON!!!!!! YAKUMO!!!!!!! YOUR LOVE IS WAY TOO INTENSE YOU'RE KILLING ME HERE I'M GETTING DELIRIOUS FROM EXHAUSTION I CAN'T KEEP DOING THIS <- will continue doing this until I GET THE ULTIMATE HAPPY ENDING FOR THESE TWO. DON'T CARE IF MY EYES DRY OUT. WE HAVE TO DO THIS TONIGHT

reloads last save YAKUMOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [YELLING INTO THE VOID]]] YAKUMOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PSPSPSPSPSPSSPSPSPSPSSS COME HERE SAD SNAKEY THIRD TIME'S THE CHARM! I"LL GET YOU THIS TIME, YOU ACCURSED OVERBEARING SNAKE

i wonder what happened when eiden locked himself in yakumo's room. did that door slamming in yakumo's face wake him up a little? did yakumo regain a bit of sense, like, "OH NO MR EIDEN DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME... I'VE SCREWED UP..." because i feel like if he really wanted to, he could... idk, phase thru the door or just break it down or something but he didnt

so, does that mean he still respects eiden's agency in that sense? did he immediately deflate when he lost direct sight of eiden? ? ? like one of those predators in a trance where if you remove the target from their sight they just kinda... flop like fhlkjlbbvvvbvrnrmbrbr.

did yakumo immediately start crying and sulking and wallowing like "ohhhhh i'm so horrible how could i have thought of hurting mr eiden i can't believe i was about to vore him i'm so hopeless and terrible and i've screwed it all up and --- etc.etc."

and curled up into a ball and that's where we find him in the void later? he slinks off to some one dead end of the flesh maze and stews in his silent sadness until eiden emerges from the room and finds him...🤔? and tries to talk to him..? oh please oh please let eiden reach yakumo this time ----

Yakumo: Mr. Eiden--

[I IMMEDIATLEY START SCREAMING IN MANIC EXCITEMENT] YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA BEAT THE LOOP, BAYBEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HE WOKE UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA bashing my head repeatedly on my desk at6 the pretty picture AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA :'3 and now i'm smiling… oh…. my heart… they're going to be ok…. yakumo is going to heal…. …… WAIT DID I EVER GET AN OFFICIAL ENDING #3? IS THERE STILL ANOTEHR ENDING?! I HAVE TO GO BACK IN

Brain: you NEED TO GO TO SLEEP

Me: I DON'T NEED SLEEP I NEED YAKUEI ANSWERS goes into an old save ok. what if THIS TIME i DON'T tell yakumo about kuya? ….. ………. OH THE HALLWAY WON'T EVEN LET ME IN. OK 😫 ALRIGHT SO THAT'S NOT AN ENDING BRANCH. but. BUT! THAT MEANS I WAS RIGHT ! Mr Eiden SHOULD feel free to tell yakumo what's bothering him! HAHAHAAH!!!! ONE CORRECT DECISION MADE !!! SUCCESS!!!!! Brain: you could have reloaded a save file where you did something ELSE wrong, you know. it's not like you're actually keeping track of which-- Me: YYou know what. i'm satisfied. i got the good ending after evENTUALLY figuring things out! i played the game!! i did it !!! i can finally check the guide and see what i actually missed. aahhh. what a feeling of accomplishment. my eyes are indeed dry and burning. I REGRET NOTHING!!! I have felt many emotions tonight and i will not forget this Experience…

reads the guide omg i gotta go back in the game and find the extra content THIS IS TOO GOOD TO PASS UP

The first time i tried pulling rei out, i felt so bad that i never tried again because why would i want to hurt rei?? the game dialogue actually changed to include his broken bones, so that means i did substantial damage. rei is delicate!! he doesn't like pain! i will treat him gently!!!!!

If you DON'T treat him gently... Does dream rei get so fed up with Eiden's actions that he slams a book on yakumo's head and ends it all? he's like: no more. no more of this stupid dream pain. you have both found the end of my patience. [BOSS BATTLE CHIME, GAME OVER]

But the guide tells me something happens if i try 5 times. so. [does it]

i was laughuing so hard at the "well, now he's got more broken bones" BUT THEN HE ACTUALLY DIED I OH MY GOD REI I AM SO SO RYRRE SORYRR AHHHH NO I MEAN well, i . what did i think trying to . . . how many bones did i break. what a way to go. under a bookcase because a couple idiots were incapable of learning from their actions (me. I'm the couple idiots). oh… REI I'M LAUGHING BUT CRYING HOW DID THEY THINK OF THIS ENDING. WHOHOW>>??? IT'S . SO RANDOM. BUT SO HILARIOUS BUT ALSO I'M SO MAD AT MYSELF I FOOLED MYSELF INTO THINKING THAT REI WOULD BE FINE AFTER ALL THAT PHYSICAL DAMAGE WHY WOULD I EVEN BELIEVE---😂 I'M CRUSHED (not as crushed as rei AHAHAH OHHHHHH oh now i've made myself sad again)

----------------------------------------------------------- ok. time for the last thing i didn't do?

when the game first told us NOT TO WANDER, lest the knights deem us a threat, i was INTENT on wandering "after i meet aster, i'm gonna wander as much as i like!!! they can't stop me!!!! THE LAW CAN'T KEEP ME DOWN! I'm a REBEL"

i was not a rebel. i thought that daring to interact with the knight's tents AT ALL would count as "wandering". so after leaving aster's tent, i investigated all the other tents, expecting to get in trouble for interacting with the king's stuff. But punishment never came? so i thought i was getting away with something >:3 Haha!!! I wandered successfully! No. i just followed instructions without realising. I needed to NOT visit aster first. that's ACTUAL wandering. let's try that. 😑

HOLD ON I THOUGHT the King would ARREST US for trespassing and , maybe we get executed..? BUT I DIDN'T EXPECT DANTE AND BLADE AND FORCE US INTO TRAINING GIVE US A GUN AND SHOVE US INTO THE CASTLE ON A SPEEDRUN 😂😂😂😂🤣🤣🤣

OMG THE AFTER SCENE DID. DID THEY MAKE ASSETS FOR THE BROKEN STUFF TOO OR--- DID IT ALREADY EXIST---- WELL WHATEVER IT'S STILL FUNNY AS HEUEIFJISJIAOIKPAL oh… OH THIS was tHE LAST ENDING uhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I MEAN I GUESS YAKUEI ARE HAPPY IN THIS ONE, TOO but… wow… gee…….. i'm….. i need to do some thinking about all this… and the ramifications…. and… yeah……….. totters off in a daze