#it was an easier choice before bc i was sure i really wanted to read this one and gojas

[celticwoman]

finally reading evelyn hugo and im thoroughly enjoying it ! i feel like its such an easy read. it has me hooked

[wings-of-ink]

Alright, everyone!

HERE ARE THE ASKS YOU'VE BEEN WAITING FOR

Below the cut are the asks and my answers/responses. I do apologize for not answering these individually, but some of them contain spoilers for chapter 5 content. Given the developments and reveals of the chapter, I want to let things simmer a bit before I pop off responses like normal.

If my Nonies listed below want to pop back into the ask box and let me know they got their answer, I would appreciate that, but you don't have to either (or if you have an additional question or comment, that's fine too!). I will reblog this a few times to make sure you have a higher chance of spotting it.

I numbered the Asks and put my answers in another color so you can tell things apart a bit easier. This is a trial run on answering these this way. I will also tag things for spoilers. ^_^

Anon:  "There's a she-wolf in the closet" made me laugh so hard I cried sdfjglkjl I was not expecting that out of nowhere 🤣😭  the temptation to name the wolf Shakira...............immense.

I'm so glad you got that reference! My husband and I sing that song to each other with the little "awoos" and all, lol. It was too good to pass up. Fun fact, if you name her Shakira, Oswin has a unique response. 

2. Anon:  Hmmm. "I like the name Aster I'll probably use it again" HMMMMM hMMMMM hmmmMMMM Is this new Aster the ??? RO

Remembered that, did ya 😁 (I was quietly cackling when I wrote that for the old ask). You questioning Aster just makes me want to mess with you Nony, you can't tempt me like this! 

3. Anon:  Aster is so hawt, carressing our cheek w his thumb???? "i wont hurr you" pls let him be an ro bc gah damnnnn

Glad that did it for you, Anon, lol. There will be more of that in store. ^_^

4. Ravioli anon here, hope you remember me LOL I just finished reading the new chapter and I HAD A BLAST The whole gang in here now!!!!!! Aster is no longer question marks!!!! (I will admit when they were introcuded I almost, ALMOST expected their name in game to just be ???)

Hello Ravioli! Still chuckling about that I hope you know. The temptation was unreal to leave ??? in there, lol. At this point, even I know him more by that than his name!

Also to keep up with my perfect choice of names, my she-wolf is now named Der, because together we are Ravi and Der Get it, Ravi 'n Der. Consider this as a way to honor our dear grandma we were named after by our loving dads, you'll never be forgotten, you girlboss of a woman 

OMG, you are killing me over here, lol. This makes me want to code something for that, lol. Just your fathers shaking their heads at your MC while still being kinda amused and weirdly proud. Grandmother Ravinder would glare at you, but smile later.

5. @origamihoshi: Screaming about the necklace Oswin gives MC, my headcanon about MC wearing the snail shell as a necklace can now be canon! and I guess more reasons for my MC to be down bad for Oswin oops. I'm loving the update! I'm so happy to finally meet Rune, I love them so much! I wanna befriend them all. and I feel like there's been a good balance to spend time with all the characters so far and that makes me really happy. 😌Also cuddling with Zahn was so sweet oh my god, I love them so much too! I got so many more questions about MC and the curse, and the mark for that matter, looking forward to when we finally get some answers.

I very, very nearly told you that when you posted your MC, I was so ecstatic. I thought if you while coding that section too. I am so glad you enjoyed the new chapter and new goodies. Lots of fun stuff to come! ^_^

6. @mutsuowo:  HELP I NAMED THE SHE-WOLF ASTER BECAUSE I FIRST CALLED THE MULE YARROW AND NOW I HAVE NOT ONE, NOT TWO BUR THREE ASTER* GOING AROUND (I know one changed to Lakota but the joke that count)

Whoops! Lol Sorry my friend! I don't think any more Asters are hiding about at least. Probably….

7. @mutsuowo: I got spoiled of Aster's name by accident and even then I mistook it for being Lakota, so I thought somehow Lakota had a divorce and took the children to be an option romance with the MC. Cue to me acting like a variety game host and going "We have a cult member, a magician, childhood friends and also a wolf...what about you Aster ? What do you bring to make we choose you ?" The answer was being a DILF

Lol! Oh dear, yeah, bestie has a quarter-life crisis and leaves his wife and 4 kids to live that DILF life. Love it, this is some quality daytime TV stuff. 😆 

8. Anon:  Hello there! I am currently in the middle of the newest chapter, very very good work! Spoiler ahead : So MC is absorbing magic? That might actually help the theory that somehow MC is a god, demi-god, or whatever that is: cursed because they are on this plane and needing magic as a very part of their being? I can't imagine that a god wouldn't be starving for magic if deprived of it. Perhaps in GC it's not magic gods handle, but something similar? The fact that we CHOSE the mark truly makes me think that somehow we were choosing an aspect of ourselves for some reason. Not only something physical either. If not our domain, perhaps a tell of why we were cursed in the first place ? I wonder if, before the Curse manifested, MC would have been flagged as a magic being ? I don't think there was anybody that could have sussed them out back then though ? Rune is amazing, btw, big fan. Can't wait for Purple Lad to accompany us and need a bath as badly as Duri did !

Oooh, are you perhaps my Nony who sent some other theories in about this? Very juicy theory as well. Next chapter you'll learn a bit more about Hayat's curse over the gods and see if it lines up or changes your thoughts more. 😁 I'm glad you like Rune too! They are in for a new experience for sure. Even if they aren't as stuffy as other nobles, they definitely appreciate more refined things. The little town MC grew up in might be a bit of a culture shock. 

9. Anon:  Sooooo... I'm thinking we ARE the mad god ! A reincarnation of it at least ! Thinking about how the cult wanted us dead, I am thinking that as long as MC is alive, they can't have another incarnation of them.   But What exactly was it that drove the god mad ?

Oooh! This one is juicy too! These theories are so tasty! Lots of questions with this one. And like the one above, there may be some info in chapter 6 that may just give more evidence one way or another.

10. Anon:  Me on my first playthrough: oh, Oswin's pretty cute! I think I'll try romancing him first Me when I meet Zahn: oh no you can't just make me choose like that how am I supposed to do this Me when I meet Duri: are you kidding me. Ok screw it I'm romancing Duri Me when I meet Rune: FUCKAIJASJDSAAA Me when I meet ???: No reaction because I'm already combusted. I can't even anymore 

Lol! I am glad and maybe just a tiny bit sorry that you're so torn, my dear. Let's find some glue and get you patched up… ^_^

11. Anon:  HAVE THEORIES! NATHAN IS DURI'S UNCLE, AND ASS-TER -HE DESERVES THAT AFTER THE RING BUSINESS >:( - WAS RAISED BY THOSE ASSHOLES WHO ALMOST KIDNAPPED MC! (I am open to Asster endearing himself later, but I'm mad at him rn, how dare he hurt my already hurt, lovely, MC 😡😡😡) Anyway, your writing is impeccable as always, can't wait to (perhaps) bring Asster to his knees (with love or spite, or maybe both?? He seems like someone easy to love-hate, lol). Tysm, for God Cursed, I love it <333

Yaaass, moar theories! That's a good one too! Nathan having some secrets wouldn't be shocking either. They'd get along too… And it is totally fair for MC to be salty! And ASSter is a perfect nickname, lol. It's also fair that in chapter 6 you'll be able to (try to) get after him about it. :3

12. Anon:  TW SPOILERS ''There is nothing I want more than to hear you…hear you say what you- Nothing more… But for your own sake. Y/N, I'm a monster. I have been a monster. Your heart should be free of thoughts of me until you know what haunts my sleep at night. If you can do that for me and your heart does not change, then I will hear those words and I will spend the rest of my days showing you what you mean to me.'' UUUUHHMMMMM, EXCUSE MEE?????? LIKE THIS IS THE MOST-ROMANTIC-NON-LOVE-CONFESSION I HAVE EVER HEARD??? EVEN THOUGH IT BURNS ME TO NOT KNOW WHAT AFFLICTS OSWIN, AFTER HEARING THAT I'M WILLING TO WAIT FOR HIM.

I love that you love this! I might have cried juuuust a little bit when I wrote that scene, lol (shocking, I know).

13. Anon:  replayed the IF from the start for the update and gosh i felt so bad for our dear MC who has gone through SO much in a (relatively) short amount of time. and the way MC just always thinks about their fathers makes me sobbbbbb. one that always gets me is the scene where MC cried out for their fathers when they were in pain (my heart broke when they said they wanted to be held by their papa). another is in the scene with jasper and co. (‘i learned it from my fathers!’, yesss go MC!!!!). but oh, just imagining the absolute heartbreak the fathers would feel if they knew how MC cried out for them and knew about everything that MC went through, makes me tear up! MC is SO loved by their fathers and MC loves them just as much and i love that. i hope we’ll be able to give da and papa the biggest hugs when we see them again 🥹wonderful update, author! i absolutely adore the world you’ve built and the brilliant characters you’ve created (shout out to one my favs.. our new she-wolf friend <3)

I set out on this IF journey intending to be a bit hard on the MC and I think I succeeded, lol. It might be hard to believe but I really do love the MC as a character too and I feel for them. Hopefully not too hard, but they're on a journey of perseverance so I have faith in them. ^_^ That scene really tore me up too, especially thinking about how hard it would hit the dads to know their beloved kid was calling out to them. 😭 I am so glad you enjoyed the update, my dear, there will be great big dad-hugs in the future, I promise (and more than a few tears). ^_^

14. Anon:  idk if it's choice or route-specific but, zahn was NOT looking good at the end of chapter 5 and i'm worried 😟

Not route-specific (unfortunately???)…they're…going through some things. 😬 (sorry in advance)

15. Anon:  Hi, hi!! Dropping by to blabber about the update after i've finally had time to lose myself in it! (Oh no it got long again.) Okay, so, from the very moment i saw your intro post (over half a year ago, methinks) i decided to go for Rune's route first. I have been very patient, very faithful. And now i can finally say it was so, so worth the wait!!! they have me wrapped all around their beautiful noble finger; they're perfect, they are everything (i mean, how many people can say a literal god shows up for their birthday? yeah, thought so). I know they are no exception either and have their own share of issues, but honestly? that's even better. I wish i was kidding about the amount of times i daydream about them. Look at me now how i'm smiling like a stupid idiot. And the fact that i can make my MC an absolute shy mess around them is just so!! *chef's kiss* 

"Oh no it got long again" is like the tagline for my existence, lol. I am so giddy that you adore Rune! I think they've had less traction since they weren't introduced until now, but I also believe they are just the type of person that is better experienced. I enjoy writing all of the ROs, but Rune is such a presence in my heart and I really hope that comes through.

Also, did Duri seriously rat them out like that? Umm, for science, of what nature, exactly, are the books under Runey's bed?

LOL and I'm so glad you caught that bit about their "hidden literature." Rune LOVES romance novels, including the ridiculous smutty ones even if the plot is kinda bad.

Anyway, moving on, because you fed us so well with the story once again!! Can i just say i love your brain? Can i? Is that weird? Apologies. So!

You can totally say that, lol. I appreciate that you think so, my brain frustrates me sometimes, but I like how smooth it is. Very soft.

We learned so much in this update, and yet our answers are still too far to reach--but that's the whole fun about this! I'm thinking things, i'm suspecting, but i'll hold onto my theories for now… It is indeed very fortunate that each of MC's new friends can seemingly contribute a piece to this vexing puzzle; question is, is the picture only missing the very last piece, or are all four needed for it to be complete? I'm folding my hands and patiently waiting to find out in future updates. 

Oooh, you're speaking my language, Nony. There are some theories up above, maybe those will get your mind spinning too. That's a very good question though too. Eveyone seems to have something that might help MC out…so the question could be, do they go full Power Rangers and combine them to solve this problem or is one strong enough on their own? Hmmmmm? Time will tell.

One thing i will say is, more people may know about MC and their whole deal than Oswin may want to even consider. People with not the best intentions, that is.

I'm sure it's fiiiiiine. Probably just a…crazy…crazy fluke. It's fine. 😀

Speaking of, Oswin is so sweet! He cares so much i think it's rending him apart. Perhaps he should partake of Nathan's pipe every now and then. You know, for recreational purposes. Frankly i admit i don't know how mean you still can be to Oswin because every time there's a choice during his scenes i just tunnel-vision to the friendliest one there. It really makes me feel sorry for him if there are MCs out there who are still bitter about their relationship. As he was opening up about what kinds of actual horrors he witnessed and had to deal with in consequence, it really made me think MC's little group should, as a side-quest, go out and find him a therapist, because this guy *slaps him on the back* can fit so much trauma in him!

That's a good way to describe Oswin. He feels very intensely and those emotions are difficult for him to manage. I try not to be too mean to him, but I do want to try and give a decent variety of responses to the past tension for some MCs. Negativity there isn't a huge focus, so I try not to go too far down the rabbit hole with it at least, lol. A therapist is a great idea for him, for real. You cracked me up with that reference, I imagine Lakota trying to sell him to the MC, lol.

 I see Zahn has entered the trenches(TM). Just after i had them repeatedly stabbed in MC's place. And just after they finally got to cuddle with MC. This is fine. Not gonna lie, for a solid second you had me believe we wouldn't see them come back from that totally not evil or at least highly doubtful church of theirs, and that we'd had to leave without them. Haha, no waay. Lunan wouldn't do that to them, right? Right? Oh thank gods. See? I was right. Anyway, it seems like their character development arc is coming up soon, so i'm keeping calm and not cracking my knuckles, not at all.

Oh yes, there will be some development soon here. Tee hee?

Duri is so fun. Their playfulness is so endearing, so much so that i find myself repeatedly swayed in my decision to have them in a (now mostly) platonic relationship with MC. Simmer down, you'll have your turn. It had me rolling how they snapped once the bandits insulted their feet lmao! Also, also, their dynamic with Rune? Mmm, so good. I love the kind of friendship that's like "yeah i picked up this weird wet dog one day and now it won't leave me be and it's annoying, but only i'm allowed to say that. here, have a treat."

I love that you love that. Writing Duri is fun and I get to break some social norms with them so it's a win-win for us all. The relation to Rune is a blast.

Moving on, Duri sniffing MC after they talked with someone they didn't know; Duri immediately leaping at the opportunity to tease a jealous MC; Duri coming to MC's rescue to put a harasser in their place--they can't keep getting away with being so charming! Oh wait, they can. Human laws don't apply to them, after all.

Duri is already so loyal. Like a pup you picked up at the shelter, the connection is pretty quick for them. Also, if you didn't know, you can also get Rune to get defensive of MC being harassed in the tavern. Currently thinking of changing the code of that, but if you choose to stay neutral or a bit distrustful of Duri, Rune will get involved instead. Both have the confidence and the power to back it up though, can't go wrong.

And Aster? Something is up with him. Big time. Bost obviously, his name. I don't know, i don't know, i'm not convinced it's a coincidence or merely "fate." I'm watching you, Aster. Okay, and yes, i see why MC might need his help, but he never once elaborated on that part where he said he needs MC for power. Sooo, naah, i'm not putting my egg in your basket, not yet. Especially!! After he so brutally demonstrated just how much of a bigger hand he has over MC. That was evil. (In a good way.) He's unhinged, and i love that in a character. I would not trust him even with a cheese grater.

That may be wisdom here for sure, lol. Aster is quite the character, as are all of them I suppose. All have secrets he especially has some serious growing to do. He'll be an interesting addition - and a very smug one at that. Maybe juuuust maybe MC can get him to feel a little remorse for being an ASSter, to quote a previous ask, lol.

I almost thought MC's group of friends were going to mistake him for the kidnapper and everyone would want to throw hands, or would at least be very leery of him, so seeing how easily he slotted in had me a little surprised (and i think he was a bit surprised himself).

That very nearly happened actually. I cut it because of chapter length, and I'm thinking I want to polish the ending for that anyway. I feel like I was burnt out while writing that and I pushed it too fast. So, we'll see what happens in future….

I really, really liked the option of having MC be scared of him after he put a cork (dart) in Jasper's mouth (throat). The head tilt afterwards? Wiping away a stray tear? "Now come sit with me on my picnic blanket designer cloak to talk about how everything is drawn to you, including me?" "I'll need to study you?" Yes, i'll take your entire stock.

I'm glad you enjoyed your dessert, Nony. ;) There will be some serious studying in the next chapter.

Oswin being extremely quiet while MC was recounting their failed abduction because he was still recovering from those 6 panic attacks he had since finding MC's room empty and with signs of struggle.

THIS absolutely. MC may get an account of the experience later.

 i can't wait to see what the dads are going to say about each of MC's new friends! I can already imagine who might not entirely vibe with whom, especially if papa and da are going to be in a sour mood after they see my (feral despite being the healer of the party) MC scarred and sore despite their letters containing nothing but rainbows and sunshine (oops). MC's right, though, how are they going to house so many people lol.

This will be so much fun, especially when it comes to sleeping arrangements…A couple ROs will get themselves sorted but there's a couple that we might just get a "one bed" trope with, lol.

And last but not least, MC got the promised puppy!!! (i named her "Ginger" <33) 

Oh that is such a cute name too! She is kinda the color of ginger and she's also very gentle (ginger) AND she can be very spicy if you piss her off. Very gingery.

I have been here before and gushed about your writing on multiple occasions and i don't want to repeat myself over and over, so i'll just reiterate once more that i'm constantly blown away by how real and vivid you make everything feel. You're putting things down and i'm picking them right up, thank you, thank you, yup, i'll have that as well, thank you. You're painting pictures inside my head, and they're gorgeous and vibrant and moving now--hey, how did you even get in here? I'm convinced you're a mage. MC is not the mage here (yet?), but you sure are!! It's okay, you may fess up now. As always, thank you so much for all your hard work! May your holidays be full of joy and rest! Take care <333

I am so thankful that you resonate so much with my writing, my friend. That really truly makes my heart so glad and encourages me to keep at it. I hope each chapter brings you more and more enjoyment and adventure. ^_^

16. @rhiannon02:  IM SCREAMING OVER CH 5 LITERALLY SCREAMING ASTER ??? IM IM LOSING IT

Well, hang on dear, maybe I can help you find it, lol. (I heard that one in my soul) ^_^

That's all for now! ^_^

[pjsk-headcanons]

i am flattered mod omg!! anyways - basic things to know about mizu5 but f1 au f1 is a homophobic sport. obviously. so considering that and mizuki getting outed? SHE IS SO DOOMED. unless i decide to let mizuena communicate it's going to probably be more angsty then mizu5 also drivers and teams. i dont really focus on other teams other than ferrari, mclaren and red bull to make my life easier, basically this: ferrari - mafuyu | engineer is kanade - rui | engineer [tbd] mclaren - mizuki | engineer is an (this is important) - nene | engineer is emu red bull - ena | engineer is akito - shizuku | engineer is saito ayaka (THE MMJ NPC.) notes: -> please dont judge these choices i promise they will work once i start yapping fr -> i would put kanade in a f1 car but she is too physically weak in canon and in this au so no f1 driver!kanade i fear. dont worry though kanade will get some content bc she's my favorite pjsk character -> i didnt know who was going to be ena's teammate but i settled on shizuku. i think that works but maybe not as well as i wanted i fear but yknow what it's fine lol -> man i thought nene would be a terrible idea as mizuki's teammate but i think it's gonna work out, also mizunene's dynamic will be interesting -> if i could i would make rui his own engineer /jk i just havent decided yet uh dont look too deep into the details, i promise im dealing with them also for the ppl looking for the details such as team principals and shit they're gonna be the same ppl for the same reason as mentioned before: to make my life easier! except obviously drivers and their engineers lol i have a pretty good idea of what's going to happen but im not sure if ending is going to be happy or angsty. probably an open one if im being fr bc as much as id like to see the angst, i want to somewhat follow ena5 as in ena accepting mizuki?? but idk. damn i didnt know i was able to yap like this. thank you for coming to my ted talk abt f1 and pjsk yet again, i hope who's reading this has an amazing day :D (ps: i might try to write this au as a fanfic and post it on ao3 but i am quite far to even finish planning this au so....) - papaya anon

‎

[cloudyyoimiya]

hi there, hope you’re doing well! i just read your scenario with yandere ranpo and a darling in danger and i am OBSESSED!! 💜 the dynamic is so freaking good, my favorite bit is when darling asks about the candy being drugged, i feel like it did so much to build up their past relationship and pique my interest. the way that ranpo’s darling was so resigned to their fate was heartbreaking but so well written, i love how much it implies about darling’s experience in captivity while also leaving so much up to the imagination. i have to say i was so thoroughly intrigued by the open ending! the idea that ranpo’s darling defeatedly agrees to go back to their prison, but also clearly still hates it and has simply lost all hope of ever escaping, and is now beginning to give in for the sake of making their miserable life easier..it has infected my brain man (/pos)!! so i saw that your requests were open in your bio and i was like i simply have to ask: would you be willing to write a continuation to that scenario that shows what it is like when ranpo brings his darling back to his home (prison)?

i’ve also written fanfic in the past, so i totally understand if it’s a situation where you had the inspo for the blurb but not really any ideas for past that! so, no pressure to write, but if you would possibly like a further prompt, the idea that i was picturing is a depressing fic where darling is giving in more and more to ranpo because they’re too tired of all of the punishments and they just want their life in captivity to be easier since they know they can’t ever escape him..but if you do decide to write, feel free to write whatever you feel like! Thank you, have a great night! 💜

AUGH thank you for your kind words, anon! they truly mean a lot! i showed this to my friend bc it made me so happy, i hope you don’t mind!! i was having a bad day when i first read your kind words so it cheered me up a lot LMDBF. anyways, here you go! i had fun writing and thinking about what would happen

Coming Back Home; Ranpo Edogawa

Format: Headcanons and scenario

Possible warnings: Yandere content, dark themes, discussion of kidnapping, manipulation, mentions of injuries

Disclaimer: This is a continuation of Ranpos part of this fic! I recommend you read it first!

When you were cleared to finally go home by Yosano, you felt as if you wanted to die. You’d be dragged back to your eternal prison by some man-child that claimed to love you like no other.

You knew what he was capable of, and he’d constantly remind you of it. He’d always tell you that he could frame you for the murder of people you hold dear. He’d make sure that you’d go to prison. The only way for him to prove your innocence and get you out of prison was to stay by his side. Though, all of this is a what if…

He’d make sure that you were his, even if it meant tampering with your criminal record.

Escaping while walking back was out of the question because of this.

When the both of you go returned ‘home’, you were more submissive than usual. You didn’t like it one bit, but it was your only choice at this point. You knew that he’d become more protective over this incident. He doesn’t want you to get kidnapped again…

If you even tried to defy him then things would turn out for the worst.

It was terrible.

If you started to comply more, then maybe he wouldn’t keep you in that one single room anymore. Maybe he’d be slightly kinder…

Don’t get me wrong, he was really “nice” to you even before you got kidnapped by that gang. He made sure that all your needs were met, it’s just the mental blockage of him forcibly taking you from your home that stopped you from returning his “kindness.”

Scenario…

The walk “home” was filled with a deafening silence. You could barely think straight as you walked throughout Yokohama. Your mind kept scattering to when you were first kidnapped by that gang—how they beaten and bruised you. Your body still ached from the beatings despite Yosano using “Thou Shalt Not Die” on you. It hurt to walk. It hurt to breathe. It was suffocating. You hated it.

Ranpo opened the front door to your shared “home” and motioned for you to enter. You reluctantly did so, not wanting to somehow manage to anger him by your hesitance.

You sat down on the nearest couch and stared at your lap. Your pants had several cuts in them, so it was clear that you would need new ones sooner or later. It was unfortunate because they were your favorite pair too! They provided you comfort when you so desperately needed it.

“Are you alright?” Ranpo asked as he sat next to you. “You seem sad.”

You bit your tongue, not wanting to say something that you would regret. “I’m fine, Ranpo.”

Ranpo took out a lollipop from his pocket and unwrapped it. He then plopped it in his mouth and hummed in approval. It was his favorite flavor.

“You don’t seem fine,” he said, the lollipop still in his mouth. “Talk to me.”

“Ranpo I told you I’m fine,” you said back.

You didn’t want him to see your weakness, but you already knew that he saw through you. He was the greatest detective out there, and that’s what scared you. He knew everything about you just by one glance. It made chills slowly creep up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“Someone is lying to me!~” He spoke rather childishly. “(Name), I told you how I feel about liars.”

You tensed up at his words. When he first took you in captive he told you that he’d punish you if you ever lied to him. At first you didn’t believe him at all, but you ended up finding out the hard way that he was indeed speaking the truth. You still remember the day where he refused to feed you because you lied about something that was happening at work. You felt nauseous from the lack of food in your stomach at the time

“Fine. I’m just shaken up is all, alright? Nothing bad.”

Ranpo squinted at you for one moment, trying to see if what you said was the truth. He then nodded to himself then went to hug you.

“Oh my (Name), you’re gonna be okay! Well, you’ll be okay as long as you love me! You do love me, right?”

“I do love you,” you said. You knew that you didn’t mean your words—you never have. You only said it to appease your captor.

Ranpo hugged you tighter. He knew that you didn’t mean your words one bit, but he still accepted them. He knew that one day you’d eventually come around to his affections. That day may not come any time soon, but he’s willing to wait. He’s willing to wait only for you.

You slowly hugged him back, not wanting him to give you any lip about not returning the sign of love. In a gross way it felt strangely comforting, but yet at the same time it felt suffocating. It almost made your skin crawl.

“That’s so good to hear!” He said happily. “Anyways, what do you want for dinner, hm? I’ll order something! You deserve to be pampered after almost dying!”

“Uhm… How about your favorite? I want you to be happy,” you lied through your teeth.

You had to be considerate of his feelings. Otherwise he’d punish you.

“That sounds good,” he hummed.

Ranpo pulled out his phone and he started to order the food. Eventually he looked up at you and gave you a lazy kind smile.

“Go change your clothes.”

You nodded as you stood up. You then went into your bedroom and picked out Ranpos’ favorite outfit of yours. You stripped down and put on the outfit, then walked back out of the room. The outfit wasn’t sexual at all, but it still made you feel uncomfortable.

You sat down next to him and he leaned his head on your shoulder. “The food should be here soon, darling.”

“Alright.”

He wrapped his arms around you delicately. You’ve been so good ever since you returned home with him, and he knew that you were sore, so he decided not to put more stress on your body.

“I love you so much. Promise not to leave me, alright?”

[my-castles-crumbling]

hello cas! how are you?

i just wanted to ask something, i dont know, maybe have a little validation? im not sure

i have and regularly use a tumblr blog, and im an active ao3 author who will often project onto characters, both because its easier to write what i know and also because it makes for good storytelling. theres one thing though that i never talk about, not on my blog and not in my writing, but i feel like i should be?

i dont remember the silly medical word for it, but theres some condition on my dad's side of the family where weve got a higher chance of going blind, and usually earlier in life than most. my aunt has it, my grandfather had it, my older brother has it, and i have it. i didnt know my grandfather bc he died before i was born, but i know it only started affecting my aunt a little into her 50s, though it was much earlier for me and my brother (hes 27 and has about 50% of his vision, and im 20 and have about 70%, and for both of us what we have is also very blurred)

again, its not really something i talk about. ive been learning braille for when the inevitable comes (so far ive learned the alphabet and common conjunctions i can expect, so now im moving onto becoming more comfortable and confident feeling it all out) and honestly im pretty okay about it. its not that ive given up, im just... neutral? i have my peace with it. im working with what ive got or whatever, i dunno

but i feel like i should be... doing something with it? like, sharing my experience or using my writing to create representation. im always reading about people projecting their disabilities onto characters (especially remus, in place of his lycanthropy in muggle aus) like deafness, or epilepsy, or chronic pain, or migraines, but i rarely read about blind characters/sight impaired characters, and i just wonder like... should i be writing that? should i be doing something?

i dont know if this even makes sense haha. i just feel some sort of obligation to talk about it, but especially because i already project onto my characters with my mental health issues etc it almost feels like id also be writing about myself *too* much? it feels like theres no winning

im also sort of nervous that if i *did* bring it up on my blog now, that people might think im just making it up or something because ive never mentioned it before. i also dont know everything about it, and if people asked me something i didnt have an answer to, im afraid of that too. as though just because im losing my vision i should know every single thing there is to know about blindness. its silly and i know that, but it still makes me nervous to talk about it after all this time

Hi! <3

I understand why you feel this way, but please know that you don't owe anyone anything just because you have a disability. You're not obligated to be an activist or educator, in any way, shape, or form. There are plenty of aspects of my life I choose not to talk about and boundaries I draw when it comes to talking about my life on tumblr, and that's okay! Nobody who is part of a group that needs representation has to be the person to create that representation. For example, while I work to create trans representation in my writing, I choose not to address a lot of my childhood trauma. Sure, I could write about having a parent who is an addict, but I choose not to, and that's a choice I'm allowed to make, just as you are!

However, if you DO choose to talk about it and someone accuses you of faking? 1. Ew. Block them. 2. Send them to me. That's horrible and they need to be yelled at.

Naming you validation anon

[representative-blank]

Hi!! Just wanted to start off with the fact that I love ur blog!! Even as a pf kid us s&d kids gotta sick together :). Advice for how to deal with a loss? I'm a novice and it was my first time competing in an invitational (for the whole state). I usually only compete in local league tournaments with 3 rounds, but this had 5. Me and my partner got 3 losses 2 wins and didn't break. I feel really bad because the rest of the novice pf team DID break. It's not even like me and my partner are bad debaters. We were just super unlucky (especially after talking with the other teams after and them getting easier teams)??? Feel free to ignore this, it helps to just vent too. Again, I love your page and thank you for reading this far <33

Thank you so much, and no worries! That honestly means so much to me and I understand this completely- I never broke once in my novice year. At all. Ever. So, my advice when you don’t break:

Know you’ll do better eventually. The way you phrased it made me think you’ve broken before, in which case- you will break again! Competing on a larger scale than you’re used to is terrifying, and it’s a lot harder than competing on your local level, and the extra rounds are exhausting- you probably weren’t competing at the same level as you normally would, and that’s understandable! You shouldn’t expect it to be like any tournament you’ve been to, because it’s not. And that’s not your fault.

Don’t take it personally. No matter how personal it feels- and it usually does- it’s not personal. Nobody made a conscious choice to put you against harder teams than the rest of your pf team. Nobody made a conscious choice to give you a lay judge vs. a tech judge or vice versa. Not a single bit of that was your choice, and if you were debating at the best level you could, then that’s the best you could’ve placed.

Don’t let it get to you. Not breaking at a tournament feels terrible, but don’t let it impact your performance. Your goal should always to do better than you did at the least tournament, so don’t beat yourself up for being paired against teams you couldn’t win against. Use whatever anger or regret you have over the tournament and put that into your practice. It’s okay to be upset- I’ll admit to crying after a tournament, there’s no shame in it- but you can’t let it hold you back.

Learn from it. This might sound cliche (and it kind of is), but tournaments are a learning experience. The biggest thing I learned as a novice was to leave every tournament with at least one thing I knew I needed to get better at. So, look at what your judges said, talk to your partner, and try to adapt to that feedback. Even if your ballots aren’t good, you should always be able to know one thing you could’ve improved on. Even though the loss wasn’t your fault, it still means you have an opportunity to get better from it. That’s what got me through being a novice- especially in Congress, where there’s no novice/varsity division- every round you lose means you had something to learn from the people who beat you.

T.L,D.R.: The best way to deal with a loss is using it to get better. It wasn’t your fault, but it also wasn’t anyone else’s fault- so the only thing you can do is learn from it and make sure you do better at your next tournament.

And be happy for your teammates! This part is really hard, but don’t be a sore loser. The teams they went against weren’t as difficult as the teams you went against- you’re not worse than them. You have that experience against harder teams that they don’t, and you can use that to improve a lot.

(also tysm for sending in an ask!! you absolutely have no idea how much you made my day, y’all should send more asks or just chat bc you guys are great)

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober 2023 Day 6 - Made to Watch

Day 6, and a continuation of the story for Day 4! This'll happen a couple of times bc the prompts just happened to line up and hey, might as well make my job a little easier, right?

@splinnters sixth tag's the charm! Hope you love all of this reading material!

Words: 2.2k

“Get your hands off of me!” Cole snapped, pushing back against the arms forcing him forward. He really could’ve used his super strength, but the fuckers had slapped him with vengestone cuffs before he could blink. The room around him spun around, stone walls blurring together as he was forced into a chair; Cole tried his best to fight back as they cuffed his legs to the chair’s, and he snarled at the man who knelt down in front of him.

“If you don’t start cooperating, then it’s just going to be worse for you,” the man scoffed, and Cole wanted to wipe the smug look off of the man’s face. “Now, I’m sure you already know who we are.”

“The Sons of Garmadon,” Cole spat, flicking his bangs out of his face. “Yeah, I’m familiar with the name. Now what the hell do you want?”

“Just a small bit of information,” the man said smoothly. “Nothing too important.”

“Where’s Jay?”

“Oh, the blabbermouth? He’s coming in now.”

Cole was forced to watch as Jay was pushed in through the door, and he immediately felt like he had been sucker-punched. There was a large bruise blossoming across Jay’s eye and they had him gagged, and Cole could see that he was limping before he was strapped to a chair much like he was. He was bleeding profusely, and Cole’s stomach turned when he saw burn marks littering the blue ninja’s thighs and chest through his ruined gi. His brother was twitching, head moving from side to side as if he couldn’t control it. Jay looked up at him, and Cole could see the relief in his eyes when he saw that Cole was uninjured.

If only Cole could say the same.

“Let us go,” Cole snarled, trying to stand up and take the chair with him, but they had the foresight to bolt it down to the floor. “We don’t have what you’re looking for.”

“Don’t you?” the man said mockingly, and he strode to the other side of the room. He watched as the man picked up some sort of black rod, giving it a once-over and a few test swings into the palm of his hand. It was a baton.

Jay’s eyes widened as the man walked behind him, and the man grabbed his chin. “This one refused to talk, and you can see what happened to him. Let’s just hope you can make better choices.”

“I won’t tell you shit,” Cole said, but he only had eyes for the large burn on his brother’s neck. “Do whatever you want to me, I don’t care.”

“Oh no, you misunderstand,” the man said easily, letting go of Jay. Jay immediately tucked his head back down, almost as if he were hiding from sight. It only seemed to amuse the man. “We’re not going to hurt you, earth ninja. He is the one who is going to be taking the hits.”

Without warning his hand lashed out and caught Jay across the face, forcing his head sideways with a loud clap against his cheek. Cole shot forward but the vengestone was too strong; it held him in place, and when he tried to call for his super strength it never came. Jay exhaled, and Cole could see the way the breath dragged on his chest.

There was so much blood. Jay was covered in it as well as vomit, and the stench was overwhelming, burning through the nostril hairs that Nya was always telling him to trim anyway. “What the hell did you do to him?” Cole demanded, and the man only chuckled.

“For being the lightning ninja, he has a surpriisingly low tolerance for electrocution. The cattle prod made quick work of him.” The man reached forward and ripped off Jay’s gag, smirking at the way Jay started gasping for air and at the spit leaking down his chin.

“Don’t talk like I told you anything.” Jay said, his voice rough and scratchy as if he had been screaming, “when you know damn well I didn’t say a word. Don’t let them trick you, Cole.”

He wouldn’t have thought for even a second that Jay would’ve cracked under the pressure. “Electrocution? With what?”

“Cattle prod,” Jay said casually, and Cole’s eyes widened. “I’m fine.”

“That does not sound like you’re fine-”

And this was when the man decided to make his presence known once again, sneaking behind Jay and keeping his steps light as he went. The earth ninja frantically tried to signal to Jay about the man, but the lightning ninja only looked confused until the man had grabbed his hair and yanked upwards. Jay shuddered, closing his eyes as the man trailed a single finger down his Adam’s apple, swallowing thickly. The sight made Cole’s gut churn with rage, and he knew the man could see his mood shifting.

“Maybe this one wouldn’t tell us anything,” he mused, “but I’m sure you would be if you had the right motivations. Where is your master?”

“Wu?” Cole asked warily. “We don’t know where he is.”

“Nice try, but this one has already pulled that card,” the man yanked on Jay’s hair again, making the blue ninja groan, “so let’s try this again. Where is Wu?”

“I’m telling you, we don’t know where he is,” Cole stressed, “we probably have even less of an idea than you.”

“So you’re telling me that you’ve been searching all of this time, and you don’t know a single thing about where he might be?”

“No, we don’t.”

The man looked almost apologetic, picking the baton back up and twirling it a couple times. “Such a shame. I guess we’ll just have to look somewhere else.”

Without warning he slammed the butt end of the baton into Jay’s temple, and Cole cried out as Jay’s head fell forward. He was still conscious, but Cole didn’t know if that was going to be the case for much longer. Jay picked up his head, squinting, his hair matted down with drying blood. Every part of Cole was screaming for him to get them out of there through any means necessary, to get Jay to the closest hospital or even just a hotel room. Anywhere that wasn’t here.

“Get your hands off of him!” Cole growled, fighting against the vengestone holding him back. That was his brother, dammit!

“If you want me to leave him alone, then you’re going to give me information,” and this time it was Cole getting the baton as it slammed into his ribcage, winding him. Cole wheezed, thankful for his body’s durability as the throbbing quickly subsided.

“I already told you, we don’t have any!”

“And I don’t think you’re telling me the truth,” the man said angrily, hitting Cole with the baton again, this time on his head, “so we’re going to be here for a long time until you do start telling me something.”

“Oh I’ll tell you something: go to fucking hell!” Cole shouted. Jay looked at him in amazement, even though Cole could see the terror hidden away. And it suddenly occurred to Cole that the man had said that while he wouldn’t be getting any punishment…

…Jay would be.

Fuck.

“Wait,” Cole tried, watching as the man reached for something on the small table, “I didn’t mean that. We can tell you one thing, but it won’t be much-”

“Don’t bother,” the man said, “you’ve already pissed me off enough. I’m going to rough up your friend a bit, and then you can tell me what you need to tell me.”

Shit shit shit shit shit-

Another gag was thrust into Jay’s mouth, and the man pulled it back far enough to draw blood as the rope chafed against the sensitive skin. Jay choked on it, trying to spit it back out to no avail, but he really lost his shit when the man tied a blindfold around his eyes. Cole’s stomach dropped when he saw how hard Jay started to thrash, and he knew that he had to do something or else Jay was going to hurt himself.

“Jay,” Cole said gently, uncaring of the way the man’s lips curled in disgust, “I’m here, I’m right here, and it’s going to be fine, but I need you to calm down.”

His brother rapidly shook his head, and Cole sucked in a breath when he saw the glint of the dim light off of the baton before it came down onto Jay’s shoulder. Jay yelled into the gag, trying to pull away from the man but stuck in place, and Cole struggled against his bonds as well. “Stop!” he pleaded, heart breaking at the sight of his brother crying through the blindfold as he was beaten in the chair, over and over and over again.

There was a sharp crack! as the man swung at Jay’s kneecap, and Cole flinched when it was quickly dislocated. Jay jolted forward, shoulders hunching and chest heaving as he swallowed back what Cole knew was vomit, almost choking. Cole couldn’t look away, even though the sight made him sick; Jay needed him to be there and dammit he was going to be right there with him. His eyes were glued to the burns on Jay’s thighs, too deliberately shaped and placed to be done with a random object, and he remembered what the blue ninja had told him earlier: he had been hurt with a cattle prod.

A cattle prod that had enough juice to burn against the skin.

I need to do something, Cole thought frantically, watching as the man started to touch Jay’s burns, twisting his fingers and smiling as Jay cried from the pain. Jay’s rope-burn was only growing worse, the ropes turning redder and redder with every passing minute as he bled. His brother was right there and there was nothing he could do to protect him.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for when tears started rolling down his face as Jay yelled his name through the gag.

Finally, the man pulled away, and Cole’s heart ached as Jay collapsed in his chair. The lightning ninja was exhausted, and Cole had just enough give in his restraints to bump his foot against Jay’s. The auburn-haired boy looked back up at the ravenette, and Cole hated how his eyes shined with unshed tears. Was there anything he could’ve done to prevent it?

“You know what I’m looking for,” the man said, pulling back the baton. Cole despised how Jay’s blood was dripping from it, making small splats on the stone floor, “so feel free to tell me anything you know, or else Pretty Boy here gets it.”

Jay flinched at the nickname, and hearing it made Cole see red. But he couldn’t afford to lose it now; Jay was hurt the last time he ran his mouth, and he didn’t know how much more Jay could take.

“I can’t tell you where he is,” Cole started, “but I can tell you where we’ve already looked. That’s the best I can do.”

The man scoffed. “If we managed to capture you, then isn’t at least a little bit indicative that we’ve been following you? We already know everywhere that you’ve gone-”

“Do you know where the others have searched?” Cole asked, fully aware of just how sensitive this information was. But Jay was more important, and he trusted the others to be able to take care of themselves.

His brother was shaking his head, telling him not to do it, and Cole ignored the pleading look in his eyes as the man looked at him with intrigue. “No, we don't,” he said.

“Bring me a map and I’ll mark all of the places we’ve already searched,” Cole said, “but on two conditions: you don’t hurt him anymore, and you let us go when I’ve given you what you need.”

“Consider it done,” the man said happily, and Cole’s blood was boiling as he wrenched Jay’s head up by his hair again. “You hear that, brat? It wasn’t that hard. All of that nonsense and for what? You to start crying? How pathetic. Just be grateful that one of you has some common sense.”

He ripped off Jay’s gag and threw it on the ground, turning away. They were alone as the man left through a hidden door, but Cole couldn’t care less about that as he looked at Jay. Jay looked furious, and that was understandable.

“You can’t give them that information!” he hissed. “Why would you say anything?”

“Because they were hurting you,” Cole said simply, and Jay looked away, a bitter smile playing at his lips.

“It doesn’t matter. I am not worth that information-”

“Yes, you are,” Cole said firmly. “If it was between you or giving up some locations, I’m choosing you every single time.”

“That’s not the smart thing to do.”

“When have we ever done the smart thing? I don’t give a flying fuck about what’s smart and what’s dumb. Now shut up and let me comfort you, since my big mouth is what got you all messed up like that.”

Jay coughed, a tiny bit of blood leaving his mouth. “Fine. But you’re explaining to the others why there’s a bunch of snot-nosed assholes with cattle prods chasing after them.”

[aspecpplarebeautiful]

I’m so sorry if this is stupid, but is it possible to be aro while wishing you weren’t? I’ve never been in love, but I can imagine what it would feel like in the same way I can imagine what it would be like to visit Paris, even though I‘ve never been. I want that feeling, but I can’t ever envision it happening to me bc I’ve never felt it before. It’s an emotion that I lack the capacity to experience, like it’s just missing from my catalog of feelings. When other people describe it I don’t recognise it as something I’ve ever felt. But I know I want romantic intimacy. Like, I want a romantic connection, I want that experience, but I know it’s not there inside me. Is this aro, or is it something else? Thank you 💚

It is possible to be aromantic but wish you weren't, or still really want a romantic relationship. Sometimes people have a hard time accepting their orientation or lack of romantic feelings. Often it comes out of internalizing messages we're taught around romance, such as the idea that you need romance to be happy, that romance is the only way to have a deep meaningful connection with another person/romance is the most meaningful connection you can have with someone, that being in a romantic relationship gives us worth, etc.

None of these are true by the way, a lot of people live happy, fulfilling lives without romance, or without a long-term romantic partner, we can have deep meaningful relationship with other people outside of romance and not everyone's deepest relationship is with their romantic partner, even if they do have a close romantic partner, and our worth in inherent, it doesn't depend on what kinds of relationships we have or don't have.

One thing I like to compare this with is chocolate. Chocolate's often called the greatest food, something people can't live without, better than sex (ha!), etc. But some people just don't like it, for whatever reason it tastes bad to them. And they can force themselves to eat it, and maybe even tolerate it, but they'll never get that same experience people who absolutely adore chocolate have. But there are other foods, or just in general other things they probably do enjoy. Romance can be like that, sometimes it just doesn't bring that same experience, but there's probably other things out there that will be more fulfilling or feel more worth doing.

I like to look at aromanticism as being given a choice. Aro people have to figure out what kind of life they want to live, what kind of relationships are or aren't important to them, and what actually makes them happy.

(It's actually a choice I think everyone has, because that specific path of building a life around a romantic life partner isn't right for all alloromantic people either, but aro people are often confronted with it in a much harder to ignore way.)

Remember aro doesn't mean you can't have something you want to have, too. Just that you may not enjoy or appreciate things the way you would if you were alloromantic. Aros can still have close relationships if they want them, they can have life partners if they want them, some even still have romantic relationships and/or do romantic coded things, and that includes aros who have no romantic feelings at all. (Though I will say it can often be a lot easier to figure out this part after coming to terms with and accepting your identity.)

If you're not experiencing romantic feelings, I would definitely recommend exploring aromanticism because it is a very common aro experience, and a common reason why people ID as aro. And if you're looking for resources, I'd recommend seeking out reading up on aro experiences, Arocalypse and Carnival of Aros are great places to start if you're not sure where to look, but following aro blogs, checking out aro media is all good too. (You can find a lot of rec lists for books/podcasts with aro characters especially). And even if you don't end up IDing as aro, it will help remove that stigma and scariness of both being aro, and not having romantic feelings.

My other big advice is to go slow. Don't feel like you have to have this all figured out in a day (or that there's any deadline at all). Take time to process, and get to know and understand the aro community and identity. And trust that whatever direction you go, you will find out what matters to you, and what path is right for you.

Feel to ask if at any point you have any more questions, Anon. All the best and good luck!

[bonesandthebees]

thoughts and questions that didnt get in my comments bc I needed to let them bounce around my brain for a bit 1/?

please don't feel bad for using the bird metaphor so much, it's cool and I think it also works really well with the unreliable narrator thing where wilbur can translate the birds actions in one way, warped by his pythia training or denial or coping, while the reader, thinking different, can translate it in the different (and I think the right) meaning

wilbur says the bird shrieked (in ch10) bc tommy liking him was wrong, I think it's bc it's what the bird yearns for and it's a sing of happiness, recognition, he wants to be loved and cared about (like he deserves and never got)

is it just me or does it kinda feel like part of wilbur wants them to kill him so he won't have to do it himself?

yes he is scared of dying. even of the deathlings killing him, but

we know he's scared that clara will ask him to kill himself and that hes not sure if he could do it (that means he wouldnt be able to do it, which im super grateful for)

and I know he's trying to make sense of his situation and why the deathlings are acting like they are and killing him would be the logical choice

but also I noticed that he keeps mentioning the killing to the deathlings very often and phil was right about him basically suggesting it in that argument and it kinda makes me feel like he (probably mostly subconsciously) wants the deathlings to kill him just so he won't have to face the disappointment if clara asks him to kill himself which he internally knows he wouldnt be able to do (in wilburs mind its more of a question of when bc he believes that clara will want to get rid of him now that he failed to escape)

the talk about wilburs life in the palace, his (lack of) power, excluding himself from the rich and you mentioning here on tumblr how wilbur and schlatt used to be closer and on more equal level before schlatt became the emperor made me realise how little we actually know about wilburs life in the palace

we know schlatt didnt listen to him, he had to wear the blindfold and everyone saw him more as a thing than a person, but what did he do in all the free time?

aaa thank you I'm glad the bird metaphor is working out well and isn't being overused lol. I'm definitely still figuring out the balance with using long metaphors throughout an entire piece. it definitely is really fun to look at as wilbur pushing his feelings off onto something else so he can deny them as his own

hmm if they made the decision to kill him it certainly would make things a lot easier for wilbur now wouldn't it because he wouldn't have to confront anything himself... but he's also still afraid of dying in general. in his mind he knows it's the 'right' option, but he also doesn't want to die. so if he's confronted with it, he's going to back down and be terrified no matter how much he tells himself it's his 'duty' or it's easier for everyone.

he actually did have a lot of advisorial duties like sitting in on meetings with schlatt's council to stay updated on what was going on in the country, meeting regularly with the priests of clara and leading worship rituals, and of course meeting with schlatt on a near daily basis even if he didn't have a vision the night before just to have a 'check-in' of sorts with how things were going. when he wasn't doing any of this though, he would often read history books on the history of the country or the history of clara worship. he'd also just read a lot of educational books besides history texts, like for science and maths as well. also I like to think there was a piano in his quarters, so he learned how to play piano and would spend a lot of his free time practicing. (he's never done much singing though.)

[definitely-mothman]

The Reflection of a Prince Ch 3

I’m really bad at making summaries, but in a nutshell, this is an Overblot! Jade Leech fic, with the Original Characters belonging to Royal Sword Academy, specifically for a fandom based on the Little Mermaid. • A gala approaches, on not one land, but two, and split in half, what other choice does a Prince have to do? But beware in the past, there is an eye that still watches. Who remembers, who plots and hides teeth in the darkness.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Ch 3 in Read More

Azul was flipping through finance files, about 7 in the morning according to his watch. It was the best time in the week to put together the documents for each days’ sales and costs, along with calculating the salary for employees for the biweekly basis. It was unusually quiet, although it didn’t bother him at the moment. It was still somewhat early, and the silence made it easier to focus.

It was only logical such silence should be rudely interrupted by annoying text vibrations on the wood desk.

“Hey do you like. Have the attendance sheets for the Board Game Club on hand rn.”

Right side top drawer, folder at the very front. Divider is by year…there it was.

“Yes I have them in the Lounge. Is Crowley asking for them already?”

“Kinda I mean. Yeah. He didn’t do this shit last year, says it’s bc of the festival thingy. BS tbh.”

“Do you want me to run them over in the next few minutes?”

“It doesn’t have to be like right now now, but around 7:30-7:45ish would be coolio, plus I’ll be actually awake at that point lol.”

Set the papers aside, set phone timer for 7:30. He’d likely just ask Jade or one of the third years to carry those over. The logistics of having the main keys for the lounge and having to cross campus not long before opening the back entryways for early shifts just seemed too annoying.

“Ok, someone will come by 7:40 at the latest.”

“Man I thought you’d do it ;-; you always send your Vice to do it and ngl he scares the shit outta me dude”

“That doesn’t sound like my issue, Idia.”

“I mean I’ll gladly accept paperwork from anyone in your dorm who isn’t in the top 3 tiers of the ‘Would Murder Me’ list. Like seriously there’s gotta be someone dude.”

“Any of them would likely lose the papers or be late. It’s not my issue he has an intimidating air carrying out benign errands.”

It was about 7:15.

“Bro tf you mean ‘intimidating air’ that implies it’s like. Accidental, and not him creating the comforting aura of a slasher villain. Idk how you survive interacting with him for most of the day. If I got locked in a room with either Leech for like 30 minutes I’d probably kms to get out faster.”

“I’m sure he’d find that quite humorous to hear. Anyways, it's not my problem, and I have things to do so I’m going to go silent for a while.”

“Alr whatever you’re like 100% serial killer victim number one tho.”

He put down the phone on the desk, mentally rolling his eyes.

It wasn’t the first time he’d heard a qualm like this about Jade, especially not from Idia. It was strange to keep hearing, probably because he just couldn’t see what it was everyone was so…afraid of. In a competitive setting, it was logical for even him to be wary of Jade as a long-game player and as someone very good at concealing his hand. But in terms of just normal school life, it just didn’t make sense. At the worst, Jade liked to poke psychologically in the same way Floyd did physically. Instead of chasing and manhandling, it was done with subtle body language and straight faced teasing. Once you wrapped your mind around how the game worked, it was actually quite fun to play in return, although for a completely anti-social loner like Idia, it didn’t seem like much fun.

He may have come across as strange or snakelike, but Azul had a level of trust in him that provided a sense of ease. At the very least, if Jade had wanted him dead, it would have happened already. He made him tea or coffee every morning, and Azul couldn’t think of the last time he’d even had a second thought at drinking what was placed on his desk.

Speaking of which. He hadn’t drank anything all morning, and the lack of hydration was beginning to make his early morning energy wear off. Usually they were both up around the same time.

He left the VIP lounge, heading back towards the shared communal space, including the small kitchen the dormitory shared. The tea bags he used were typically in one of the top shelves of the cabinet farthest from the shared fridge. He put some water in a pan and turned on the stove, sitting the bag’s string over the side. There was a kettle in the shared area, but it was nowhere to be seen, so he’d have to make do.

The tea that he had made wasn’t perfect, but it was fine enough. Octanivelle students set for the early shifts had started to trickle in, and Floyd stumbled in behind them. A bit earlier than he normally woke up, but well within his range.

“Hey Floyd. It’s odd having you be the first one up.”

Floyd slid over, propping against the island. He still looked a bit tired.

“Huh? Jade left our room like. A few hours ago. At least, I think so. Idk, I was half-asleep.”

“A few hours ago? I haven’t run into him all morning. I was going to ask him to run some papers over to Ignihyde.”

“I could run them over lol-“

“It’s fine, you can handle opening, I’ll just run them myself. Was he running off to do the headcounts he mentioned yesterday?”

“Idk, probably? He sometimes dips out in the middle of the night to do something-or-another, I figure it’s just that.”

“…I wasn’t aware he did that. I doubt anyone at RSA is awake enough for him to get any reasonable survey numbers at this hour.”

“Eh, who knows. I’m not worrying about it personally. Probably went off early to maybe hike over there instead of taking the bus. I could see him doing something like that.”

“Oh, ok. If you're not worried-“

“By the way, when are you supposed to be taking the papers over?”

“Um,” Azul checked his watch again. It was 7:39 already, and the walk across campus would probably take some 7 minutes. Shit.

“I should probably go now; I’m already behind schedule.”

“Alrighty then, have fun. I need the key ring though to open.”

“Right, right.” He took the Lounge key ring off of his belt loop, and took the trenchcoat off his shoulders and dug through the pockets for the VIP lounge key. There. When he took his hand out though, he had two keys.

He couldn’t remember which key this was, and with how often he absentmindedly put them in various pockets, it was any guess when he’d put it there. He handed off the known key to Floyd, and put the second one back.

With that, he returned to the office space, collecting the papers, and then headed towards the mirror for the main campus.

For Azul’s taste, it was an eerily lonely morning.

• • •

“I’m good to meet up whenever you are.”

It was almost 5 in the afternoon, and students were flowing to and from Coralliadom, mostly to leave campus to get dinner or head towards the cafeteria. Rielle hovered over the message, and panned his gaze over to his Housewardens’ staff. He went over and took it up, gripping 3 fingers around the magestone and prying it out. He put the stone in his right interior pocket.

“Aight. I’ll head out that way. Should I turn my GPS on to make it easier or smthn?”

“Sure.”

He flicked it on, and began to make his way out of the dormitory. He left the staff in his room to not raise any sort of suspicion, but held onto his pen. He managed to slip Claude’s visage in this escape attempt, sliding through the mirror and booking it across campus towards the gate. It was actually quite invigorating, sneaking off like this. See, I told you I could take care of myself! The gate was open, and Rielle slipped in with the crowd of leaving students, removing the outer RSA jacket and bundling it under his arm. Just before the bus stop, he broke off, awkwardly trotting down the incline and breaking off into the tree cover surrounding the campus.

He had to walk for a while before eventually running into the Octanivelle kid, about 3 minutes. Curly brunette hair almost covered their eyes completely, and their poise seemed too calm for how they talked over text.

Whatever, people were usually more casual over text anyways, right? Not like he had another option at this point anyways.

“Heyo-! I made it, sorry if I was a bit late.”

“It’s fine, I made sure to set time aside so I’d be good if you were. Do you have the stuff I asked for?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it right here.”

Rielle took a small jewelry box out of his pocket, one that you’d normally keep earrings in. He handed it over to the student, who opened it, eyes glazing over the inside.

“Spit vial thing, hair is in a vial, the clippings are just in the box bc I figured that was fine, and the empty vial is the…song? Idk if you just wanted me to sing into a vial, so that’s what I did, sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted.”

“Oh that’s fine.” He closed the box lid, and put it in the pocket of his dorm uniform, which went almost below his knees.

“Are you guys’ uniforms that long? Based on the photos, I always thought they hit like, mid-thigh at the longest.”

“Oh, this isn’t my uniform.” The kid took out a small glass dish, and sat it over a bundle of tinder he’d piled on the ground. “I spilled some shit on mine earlier this week, so I had to borrow my roommates. He’s like, a good foot taller than me, haha.”

His voice seemed a little…stiff, despite how casual his words were. The student looked up towards Rielle, expression a bit nervous.

“Uh, did you bring a water bottle or something by chance? I would’ve brought one myself for the potion but I didn’t think about it. I mean, I can just use a water spell I guess, but I haven’t eaten a lot today and my magic’s probably a little shaky because of it.”

“Oh, no worries, I’ll do it. Did you skip lunch or something?” Rielle clicked his magestone into his pen, and with a small flick formed about two cups’ worth of water inside the dish.

“Thanks, and no, I didn’t bring much money when I made my way over here so I couldn’t grab anything substantial in Craneport.”

“Oh. Well, you’ll need my ID to get into the dorm anyways, so don’t worry about using it to get meal swipes. Claude will hound you-me if he sees you being the slightest bit winded. Wait-“

Rielle took out his phone, and began texting rapidly. The students’ phone pinged several times back to back.

“Ok I sent you the itinerary for the day of, so that you’ll be ready for that, and also the sheet music for the musical performance on Friday.”

“Musical…performance?”

“Yeah, I am/was doing a pretty singing number for the gala thingy- but you’re taking on my singing voice anyways so you’ll be good. There’s 5 days anyway to get the hang of it, and you won’t be on stage alone!”

“O-oh. Ok.”

The student began to dump the contents into the water, and lit a small fire on the tinder beneath the dish with his pen.

“I could’ve done that, yknow.”

“Oh, sorry. Just didn’t think about it.”

“Lol, you don’t have to say sorry. Just don’t want you to overexert yourself.”

The kid took a small twig nearby to stir the mixture, using his other hand to control the flame, it spinning to a light blue color. He was murmuring something under his breath, but Rielle couldn’t make out whatever incantation he was saying. Maybe saying it really quietly was a part of it?

In a moment, the small whirlpool in the mixture tinted to a bright red, and spread out within the dish. A small smile briefly appeared on the kid’s face, and he put the twig to the side, taking a small necklace out of his pocket.

“Oh, that’s the jewelry item?”

“Yeah. I’m using this one specifically because I’ve been able to get it to work with other magic properties like this already. No worries for me about it not working.”

“It’s so…cute. Is it an actual nautilus shell? It looks a bit more worn and dirty than the ones you see in shops. And it’s so tiny!”

“Yeah, it’s an actual shell, a friend of mine picked it out for me, we were pretty little at the time. So that’s why it’s kinda small.”

“So I’m guessing the string on it is more recent so it fits your neck? Lol.”

“Yeah, I’ve changed the string a million times at this point, hah.”

Again. That slightly strained voice, enough to notice but not noticeable enough for Rielle to want to bring attention to it.

The Octanivelle student took the twig he’d sat down, and stuck it firmly in the ground. Taking the necklace’s string and catching it on the twig, he dipped the shell down into the potion, where it began to glow a pale white within the liquid.

“Ah, yeah. The contract scroll. I almost forgot about it.”

He took a golden paper out of his pocket, along with a slightly decorative pen. It was folded several times into a little square, and once unfolded the top portion was too crinkled to properly read. But most of it was legible, and listed everything they’d spoken about over text, word for word. Rielle panned over the language, checking for any small print. He may have had no other choice, but he’d barter if he needed to.

“The only small text on there is about you being liable if the Unique Magic offered in the contract expires before you return to trade places with me again.”

“And that time would be…”

“Friday, about 11pm. An hour and a half after the gala hosted in your dorm will have ended. I just don’t want to be stuck up there. Do you want the pen? I thought you’d take it already-“

“How did you do this? This is a Unique Magic in and of itself, dude! Did you actually get your Housewarden to write one up for you? Like an IOU or something?”

“…can’t say. Secrets of the trade, lol. I don’t wanna lose my chances of getting deals like this in the future, you know?”

The student smiled, but the emotion didn’t quite reach the shine in his eyes. As if they carried two different people. I suppose that was Octanivelle for you. Rielle took up the pen, and carefully signed his name, drawing a smile heart above the i.

He absentmindedly handed the paper and pen back over, and dropped his RSA jacket onto the ground. The guy would probably need it if he wanted to slip back onto campus.

“There you go. I should probably text my parents about now and head off towards the hall of mirrors. Pretty much no one’s walking around campus right now, although you might wanna wait a few minutes before going into campus.”

“Alright, I have to wait for this to finish up anyways. Hope you have fun at the family gathering.”

“Yeah, I will! Thanks for doing me a solid, man.”

“Don’t even worry about it.”

Rielle finally got up from a squat on the ground, turning and heading back towards the campus.

He couldn’t have left soon enough. The illusory potion put together that morning was only meant to last about an hour. Even now, teal was beginning to push through the brunette hair, which was now falling to the ground at an alarming rate. He hadn’t even bothered to notice the contacts that already matched his eye color, or how squatting down disguised his clothing slowly fitting more snugly. The potion let off a sweet-smelling steam. It was done.

Taking the string off from around the twig, the necklace was pulled from the solution, and now it had a beautiful yellow gleam. He took off the Mostro Lounge jacket, covering a simple white dress shirt like those worn in RSA. The jacket and hat was placed into a pile along with the glass dish, and with a gentle wave of his pen, the pile burst into a large flame.

The necklace’s string fit perfectly to his head, and the nautilus shell was tucked beneath the shirt collar. He imagined how it looked outside of himself. Thin, siren eyes becoming like that of a doe, merging in and out as if both were mirages. A pale glow flowing down the edge of his hair, it growing vibrant red, and growing longer as the glow went down, beyond his hair’s end. The shell felt as though it could replace his own heart with how warm it felt against his chest.

Finally, he opened his mouth, feeling up and down the foreign vocal chords. The sweet, silky sound that left his mouth. That voice which was far too beautiful to belong to him. He stood and straightened his back, and lightly lifted his eyebrows along with the corners of his mouth, trying to make it look natural. Speak with your throat, keep your balance on the left side instead of in the middle. Pretend as though your head is filled with helium.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m back late, I got kinda sidetracked, went on a stroll and lost track of time. But…you forgive me, right?”

[junkissed]

hihi im starting a writing blog for svt but im relatively new to tumblr and its mechanics and all the etiquette and things like that. also im a jun biased and im weird in the way where i don't usually have inspo for other members? if that makes sense? so like idk is there anything i need to know or is it relatively acceptable to mostly only write for one or two members?

also sidenote but i really love some of your writings ahaha match of the season is my favourite :D thank you so much if you ever reply!

no that totally makes sense! i would say most authors on here will write for ot13 but they definitely write more for their bias than any other member. i feel the same way, for me it's easier to write for jun than for other members (and also i love him lol) so my writing ends up being like 90% jun and 10% other members. which is completely fine! at the end of the day it's your blog and your writing, and you should write for whoever you feel comfortable writing for and whoever gives you the most motivation. there are hundreds of writers on this site so if one writer only writes for a couple of members, it doesn't mean the other members won't get written :) nobody says you're required to write certain things or for certain members!

if you intentionally leave out one member but write for all the rest (i've seen writers who write ot12 and exclude jun because they aren't attracted to him), you might get some side eyes but again that is your choice. i personally wouldn't say a hard no to any members and i'll give them all my best shot, but that's my blog, and your blog is up to you.

as for things you'd need to know, i'd say the number one thing is interact with people! the best way to get interaction on your own work is to reblog and comment on other fics. as i'm sure you've heard me say before, reblogs are the most important feature on this site! it basically boils down to, treat others how you would want to be treated by reblogging their works and leaving feedback, even if it's just a simple "i really loved this!!!". it makes you stand out in our notifs and if you're also a writer it might even get you a new mutual.

other tips off the top of my head:

have a masterlist post (helps people find all your fics in one place) and have a guidelines post (makes it clear what you're comfy with)

DO NOT PLAGIARIZE AND DO NOT STEAL ANYONE ELSE'S WRITING (this one is in caps bc super super important!!! you can take ideas or inspiration from someone else but you cannot take their words or their writing. you'd think this one would be obvious but plagiarism happens a lot more than you'd think)

if you're inspired by someone else, tag them in your fic! it shows respect to the original author, and you should tag them whether it was from a fic you read or if they helped you brainstorm ideas. it doesn't have to be a super long thing, just a little "inspired by @onlyhuis's fic!!" is more than enough, but it goes a long way :)

like i said, you can write for whoever you want, whenever you want! when ppl start interacting you it's gonna be stressful because you want to make them happy and put out new fics often, but just remember that it's your blog and you get the final say on everything. don't put pressure on yourself to write constantly because you will get burned out and i promise it will not be fun!

if people send things that make you uncomfy, don't be afraid to delete (or block) them. it's your blog and your boundaries so don't feel guilty for standing up for yourself. also, ignore answer hate asks because they're just looking for attention so don't give it to them

trigger things properly! this is the little section before the fic that says "warnings". don't censor any words (using punctuation like bl00d or d3ath instead of typing blood or death) because it defeats the purpose of ppl who have those keywords filtered, so type out the whole word uncensored. this is a courtesy for people so they can choose to avoid content that may be harmful to them. (this also counts towards visual works, a lot of ppl use tags like "tw flashing" on gifsets)

speaking of tags, when you post be sure to put tags on it! it's the section at the bottom of your post with all the #'s. if you click on any of my fics you can see that i use tags like "jun smut", "seventeen scenarios", etc. these tags help people find what they want to read (but only tag relevant things; don't put "mingyu smut" on a jeonghan fic unless mingyu is actually in the fic). if you aren't sure which tags to use or how to format things, feel free to look at other fics for examples. if you read a lot of fics you might see there's a pretty standard way of doing it

the tags i use like "june.txt" and "june writes" are organizational tags. when you click on, for example, my "june writes" tag, the results are only my fics that have that tag. it basically organizes things into categories (which imo is the best part of tumblr) and it makes it easier to find different types of posts. it also allows people to filter those tags so posts with that tag don't show up (for example, i require minors on my blog to block the tag "minors dni" so that nothing nsfw is shown to them)

again like i said, don't be shy! make friends, join networks, send asks to people, reblog fics, etc etc. interacting with others is the #1 way to make writer friends :)

just a general tumblr tip: no one can see how many followers you have except you, so don't try to make it a competition of who has the most. it's what makes tumblr different from tw*tter and insta and it makes the social media experience a lot more casual because there's no influencers here. it's like a diary where you scream into the void and sometimes ppl scream back. a lot of writers do milestone events (i recently had one for hitting 1k followers) but you aren't required to do those either

if you have any questions about tags, filtering keywords, and other tumblr stuff like that, don't be afraid to ask! any tumblr veteran is more than willing to help break down our weird system to new bloggers

be proud of your work! even if it doesn't get many notes or feedback it doesn't mean you're a bad writer. writing should be fun and something you can enjoy doing, so don't make it seem like a chore by focusing too hard on numbers

i can't think of any more but here's my tag for important posts & info for new tumblrs users that you can look thru for more! i hope this helps :) and when you start your blog send me another ask!! i would love to be your first follower <3

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

LAST ONE WAHOO, @lavenderlevetan 3/3 “twos not divisible by 3”

70: are you very critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during the writing or after the fact)?

VERY FUCKING CRITICAL. Holy hell imposter syndrome my beloathed. I’m surrounded by talent and y’all are intimidating. I edit a lot I think, after writing. I tend to add at least 10-20% more words LMAO, as well as rewording stuff

74: are you a planner, pantser, or planster?

Hang on I have to Google something. Reading this description, I think plantser with pantser tendencies. I get a basic idea, at least a few events, and then just go for it

76: what is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain? 

Oh god idk man. Lighthearted, I’d say make them decently likable if you want them to be compelling. If they’re evil and annoying or evil and boring, that sucks. One dimensional and/or annoying characters are no fun. Give them some pizzazz. BUT. On a serious note, also be careful to avoid harmful stereotypes. Queer villains are fun—don’t make them your only queer characters. That kind of thing

80: do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

Yes! I tend to mostly use specific themes that go along with the main story theme. It’s hard to explain. Road trip = sunlight and warmth and nature themed allegories and freedom. There in the garden = dark and spooky and gothic and blood and animalistic. You know? Morals I don’t usually use intentionally but I’m not Aesop /lh

82: “proper” punctuation or all lowercase?

I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I need my proper punctuation (in 98% of cases). I don’t necessarily have a reason outside of it makes it easier for me to read in regards to when sentences end kind of?? BUT!!! I think stylistically, all lowercase can be a SUPER FUCKING COOL option. Favorite example is dancing in the moonlight by our own summersociety / @candle-lion when it comes to Birdie’s POV, it’s just an incredible choice in my opinion!! It’s fitting that the beast is “simpler” more “animal” you know?

86: which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?

Fall. I’m an Autumn bitch. I tend to write stuff being in Autumn without really thinking about it

88: if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

Hey would you like to take a stab at there in the garden? Or @candle-lion or @sapphicriley I know any of you three would do an incredible job with the concept, I think!! Also @suwunnysideup maybe it’s just me but I think you would absolutely knock the apocalypse au floating around my brain just out of the park

92: first, second, or third person?

Third person! I don’t hate first person necessarily, but for some reason I prefer my fics third person. Novels in first person are cool tho, that doesn’t bother me

94: do you prefer dialogue or description?

Description. I think I tend to talk in a way that’s kind of awkward, and it translates into making my written dialogue awkward. The amount of times I go back and change it to sound more real and human before I post is unreal. Description is more fun to me, and I get to fuck around with metaphors and whatnot

98: what don’t you like about your writing style?

See above. Dialogue is icky

100: open question to the writer.

I’m not sure what this means. I’ll just use it to say I love you and this was fun, thank you for giving me something to do LMAO

[sapphicblight]

44 + 45 for writing asks!

44. If you take/write prompts: do you prefer dialogue or scenario/narrative prompts?

narrative/scenario prompts for sure!! in part because they're easier to impart your own tonal choices onto, but mostly because i enjoy writing dialogue so much. i struggle when i have to work with someone else’s line. same with when i want my fic to fit into a moment from canon — having to use the dialogue lines from the canon scenes pains me shdnjfg. god i struggled big time with rewriting canon scenes for intrinsically. 

i’m also currently doing those yotp prompts for both kimchay and vegaspete (i have all the prompts pre-picked for the whole year) and for all but two i’ve skipped the dialogue options. and i just KNOW once i get around to drafting those, i’m going to struggle to work the actual line into the scene despite the fact that the scene was formed around that line shdjfg

45. What’s something you’ve improved on since you started writing fic? 

remembering to add more of the character’s feelings and emotions, and also what they’re observing from the other person. which sounds super basic but for a while i studied screenwriting and those kinds of details aren’t really meant for in the script; it’s stifling for the actors to have such minute direction rather than space for them to take your writing and make it their own / their version of the character’s own. so a big thing was 'we give emotion direction but not expression direction'. or for example, a nervous tic — you say there is one but you don’t necessarily say what it is unless the specific tic is relevant to the plot in some way. 

another thing i’m relearning is indulgent writing. i can get really bogged down in everything needing narrative value in terms of serving the bigger picture, because that’s what writing for film is all about, and even tv to a degree. scenes that have no greater plot value but do have romantic / character value are the things i love about reading fic but i can sometimes forget to then also write like that myself. that's probably why the w in my pwps always ends up standing for ‘with’ — i just can’t justify the romantic or sexual scenes without first having plot reasons around it and character motivations going into it 🥲

i’m also still fairly economical with my language use compared to before i studied screenwriting, which i think is a change for the better bc i was definitely too wordy before. but i’m re-learning how to write prose through writing fic, getting comfortable with flowery language and metaphors and stuff like that. slowly but certainly i’m finding the middle ground with that (:

[friendlyneighbourhood-parker]

nagging and napping

pairing: Steven grant x reader, Marc spector x reader, Jake lockley x reader

Summary: after a good-bye party for Layla you get hurt and the moonboys have to manage taking care of you on their own ways while making sure you remember that this wasn't your fault

Word count: 12 k

Warnings: child abuse, wendy's mentioned, panic attacks, wound patching as a way of showing affection, implied smut, the wounds really don't make sense i'm sorry, intrussive thoughts, negative self talk, mentions of blood and wounds angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

A/N: This wasn't supposed to be so long nor take as much time to write as it did! this started as a bucky fic back when Falcon and the winter soildier was airing but never really liked it. now I love it and loved writting it so I hope you guys like it too! also I think it looks way nicer on ao3 but if you want to read it here I won't be mad about it

special thanks to my amaizing betta reader @devilish-mirage her notes and sweet words are what motivated me to continue!

also to @bassist-vortex whom I now own a lollypop bcs it's longer than 6k and didn't mind when I texted him at 2 am about being so fucking done drafting this.

Come on, breathe

In, out. In, out. One, two, three

“Fucking hell!!!” You winced avoiding to look his way, your hands quickly trailing up to cover your mouth, muffling the string of curses.

Your mind frantically ran through every and any single possible scenario trying to detach itself from the notorious pain from the side of your body, the sting running across your back when the soaking cotton made contact with the wounded skin.

Breathe, just breathe

Teeth sunk into your hand trying your best to drown the scream creeping from your throat, your other hand trembling while holding up the t-shirt you wore to make his job easier.

God

You couldn’t even look at him not when the probability of seeing him frowning at you was huge. One of his hands held you keeping you as still as he could while the other cleaned away the scrapes on your torso.

“Told you to be careful”

It was the first thing he said after getting home, Marc placed you on top of the kitchen table and ran to get the aid kid from the wardrobe in the back, cursing at Steven for moving it from the top of the fridge.

In and out, breathe

He tried his best not to prolong the pain, dabbing carefully and looking up to check your reaction, or at least he tried to but your eyes never shifted from the window and even if they did they never fell into him.

His tone was harsh fuelled by his immense worry, he shook his head pouring alcohol into a new cotton. He knew his way around this but the way your chest moved and breath picked up made him nervous, the hand that was once holding you trailed along the outside of your thigh trying to ease you, and yet you thought he was furious.

“¿Te lo dije, o no?”

 “Fuck off” You hated getting scolded like a child, the guilt bubbling in your chest.  You side-eyed him before shutting your eyes and slamming your hand on the table.

¡Respira maldita sea!

You tried your best to regulate yourself before looking back at him. His eyes never left the place where the wound was, sitting on a chair to be head level to it and with the trash bin on his side to discard everything he used.

You were scared and yet his fear was greater, he was about to fucking scream.

He’s done this thousands of times before, not as many as Marc but his sudden ‘shutdown’ left him with no choice but to attend your wounds.

For fucks sake Marc, couldn’t you choose a better time to freak out?

To be honest he didn’t blame him, it was only his nervousness taking the best of him. In the past he had attended his own wounds before making that stupid deal with the moon god that got him the suit, but it was you they were talking about, none of them wanted to see you in pain and the mere thought of not being able to help you was enough for Jake being pushed forward.

He tried his best to be quick, to not linger in his mind and finish up so you could rest, but the voice of the worried British man that lived in him didn’t make concentrating any easier.

“Steven, si no te callas juro que-“ He whispered to himself and sighed looking back at you “Mi amor, I need you to stay still, ‘kay?”

You nodded lifting the t-shirt even higher, finally deciding to grip it with your teeth, it wouldn’t get in his way and would work wonders muffling you. The pain was worst, He expected you to flinch when he started stitching the cut on your shoulder but for some reason your knuckles turning white when you gripped the edge of the table seemed to have a greater effect on him as his hand began to shudder. He took a deep breath and glanced at your pained expression before continuing.

Where was Layla in a moment like this?

Took them home, remember?

The reason why he had to clean you up in the first place, the guy who you saw across the pub bothering a girl and her friend. The thing is you knew the guy, he ruined the night out you had with a couple of friends some weeks ago. The boys weren’t at home when it happened and Layla had to travel thanks to her line of work to recover some stolen goods, so you decided that going for drinks with your best friend was a good idea.

And it was, it really was until that twat started to roam around you just like he was doing with the girls. You were out as a makeshift ‘goodbye party’ for Layla before she had to leave to secure a buyer for the recently collected stolen goods. Marc went for more drinks while she excused herself to the restroom, you? You walked across the venue to strike him as soon as his hand tried to reach for the girl’s bum.

There is a downside about being constantly surrounded by people who commune with the gods, you sometimes forget you aren’t more than a mere human, you don’t have powers nor a fancy suit and every blow you get can be mortal.

And so when his fist collided against your side taking almost all your breath out of you, it was your doom and yet the second blow seemed even worse, some people ran to help you, others held him but your mind was only on the young lass who shivered on her friend’s arms.

On the bright side Marc and Layla got there before he tried anything else and yet it seemed to be a tad late, you were dizzy and needed to go home. It wasn’t really that big of a deal and yet the pain was present, mostly from your ego being hurt, some from the actual punch.

Marc made sure he was kicked out and you companied Layla to bus stop after she offered to take the girls home, you craved the air on your face and the feeling of it filling your lungs once more not expecting to be followed on your way back to the car. You could see Marc waiting for you, leaning against the passenger’s side, you held your hand up ready to call for him when you felt it. It didn’t come to your mind that he would take it further than a punch, but the sharp pain on your shoulder and your blouse being tinted in crimson made you let out a loud scream, one of pure pain and fucking regret. Just in time for Marc to watch it.

“Just a few stitches left baby” He tried to reassure you but it only made your need to go at him grow “Come on, breathe”

It’s not like you weren’t reminding yourself of that, to just focus on your breathing and forget about what was going on, to detach yourself from the pain but it wasn’t that easy.

“¡Mierda Lockley!” You tilted your head to the side heavily breathing.

“that’s right” once you snapped back to reality he was throwing away the last bit on cotton and placing a bandage to secure the stitches and rubbing your back carefully “We’re done”

He placed a kiss near where the bandages were, the pearls of sweat glistened on both of your bodies and a tired laugh came from within your lips, still high on the adrenaline you locked eyes.

“Thanks baby”

“Just please… don’t try that shit again” You felt his touch, his hands brushing your hair away, the sweet gesture making you close your eyes nodding to his request.

But he knew better.

He knew just like every other occasion you wouldn’t listen, not to Marc, not to Steven and most certainly not to him. He would have to use both his hands to count how many times he had to drag your ass out of situations like this, times when he got in time before something bad happened and the line of curses directed at the other person slowly died down on the way back home.

“You should’ve let me”

Your arms were crossed in front of your chest as you stared at the road, Marc was the one fronting that particular night, driving both of you to the flat.

“I don’t want anything happening to you” he sighed, his eyes never leaving the road “I wouldn’t be able to take it”

Not all of the occasions where the same but had few things in common, you wanted to help and they had to talk some sense into you before the reckless part of your brain decided to take action. This time was different tho, they didn’t have the opportunity to stay on the talking stage of the little routine, resulting on the little pep talk you were immersed in.

He reached for you carefully trying to lift you but the touch was met with your hand pulling his away before resting your back on the table. He was confused but didn’t complain.

“Leave me here” your voice was barely audible as you dozed off “Wait for Layla in bed”

Layla, one of your best friends and the one who used to have your place in Marc’s heart. At first they tried but their relationship was complicated, too many lies and too many betrayals can doom any marriage, they knew that, they knew how much damage the lack of communication had caused and yet they couldn’t part from one another. Too much history and feelings to even try and explain, but she had to move on to find peace and so she left for a while with the promise of being for him whenever he needed her, the silence and loneliness being something he grew accustomed to and yet it left him aching for the love she gave him.

 Then you appeared in the picture, Jake was fond of you since the moment his eyes laid on you, going out of his way to rearrange for you and Steven to meet, let’s just say both of them fancied the tiny moments they had with you, Steven taking you out in the mornings for a cup of tea to his favourite spot and Jake preferring to drive you around the city at night even if you didn’t know it was him. Then you found out about Marc in the worst way possible, at a pub drunk as he could get.

 He knew it could trigger him to switch with more ease but there was also the possibility of his mind going quiet for a second, to forget that the woman he loved wasn’t on his side for just a moment, to think that he would find her when coming back home. That’s when he felt your touch on his back and a kiss on his cheek followed by the little pet name.

“Hi amor”

Fuck he was confused as to why in the middle of him grieving and yearning for Layla there was another person who touched him the same way he expected her to do so. Then he opened his mouth letting his confused tone swoon you.

Wasn’t this Steven? Wasn’t this the man you’ve been seeing for the past month and a half? You were pretty sure he was and yet the strong American accent said otherwise. Until there wasn’t one, his gaze softening and his lips twitching in a broken smile as he tried to explain what was going on with the same accent you’ve grew to love.

You worked things out but not before scolding Jake for letting you believe they didn’t understand those little confessions of love you offered in your mother tongue. That’s how you started to date the three of them, completely mesmerized by every part of your moon boys. Then Layla came back, but not as the lover she used to be but as a friend, as the shoulder Marc could lay on whenever he needed, a place he could feel safe and someone who slowly became just as much as a necessity for you as it did for him.

“Mi amor, she’ll kill me if she finds you here alone” he laughed when you pushed his face softly “y no quiero dejarte”

“Jake, ya… porfa” He saw the way your chest movements slowed down finally falling asleep. He went towards the bed grabbing a pillow and blanket, placing it carefully under your head and covering your body to keep you warm.

 You’ll probably be sore in the morning but right now the best he could do was leave you to rest.

He sat back where he once was, right next to you and his hand instinctively reaching for yours. The flat would’ve been in complete silence if it weren’t for your soft snores and the humming form Jake, singing under his breath a song he heard not so long ago, the one you played that rare morning while making breakfast. The aroma of coffee and tea dragging him out of bed only to find you wearing his t-shirt and underwear, moving your hips to the melody and mouthing the words.

“How are they?” Layla creeped through the front door slowly trying to not wake you up.

“Tired…” he rubbed his eyes trying to remain awake.

“It seems they’re not the only one” She kissed the top of his head and tapped his shoulder “You should go to sleep, I’ll keep an eye on them”

“Nah, nah. I stay, you can take the bed”

She shook her head as amused as irritated, she always knew how stubborn her boys could be, always wanting to have the last word and yet they hadn’t learn. There’s no use on fighting with her, she would be the one in the right but it amazed her how they always tried. She pushed his curls backwards leaning to be on eye level.

“Jake Lockley, either you go to sleep or I’ll drag you to bed”

He chuckled rolling his eyes grabbing her by the shoulders.

“Yes ma’am”

The cold of the night slowly became a chill morning as the hours passed, the drapes didn’t do much to cover the light that came through the window hitting your face, those moments after waking up were precious, where everything seemed fine thanks to having no recollection of what happened the night prior or even who you were, until you tried to move putting all your weight into the wounded arm and the sharp pain finished the job of waking you up completely. You kicked the blanket out of the way and saw the bruising and scrapes creeping from under your clothes.

“Mierda” you slipped right back where you once laid with a thud, hearing the creek of the chair on your side.

Layla rubbed her eyes yawning and her hand moved some curls out of her face, she was still wearing the same clothes she had on last night, her leather jacket hung from the chair she was sitting on and the traces of makeup in her face told you everything you needed to know. She didn’t get much sleep last night either.

“Good morning trouble maker” her tone was soft as her hand reached to mess with your hair before walking to the cupboard where you store the glasses “The boys are sleeping… it was hard to convince Jake to stay in bed all night”

Your forearm laid on your face covering your eyes, now that the rush of adrenaline and anger from last night wore off it became easier to think, to realize how fucking reckless you’ve been and how punching a guy twice your size wasn’t the brightest idea you could think of, but it was hard to make up good ideas with an intoxicated mind and the fear on a young girl’s face.

And then stopping your mind was almost impossible as it recalled every single detail of the night, how Layla rushed to talk with the girls while Marc took the guy form the collar of his shirt dragging him outside followed by a blurry ride home with him talking to you and telling you that everything was okay. You knew those words weren’t meant for you but for him, telling himself over and over again that you were okay, because you had to be okay, he reminded himself that it was just a cut in your arm, that it wasn’t even that deep and even if it was the first time you’ve ever been hurt like this you would still live.

“I wouldn’t be able to take it”

He probably blamed himself for not reacting sooner and Steven was probably trying to ease him. Trying his damn best to stop the tears that built up in his eyes, gripping the steering wheel with such force that you knew his hands would probably hurt the next morning; Steven would’ve taken control then and there if he wasn’t just as scared as Marc was.

Puta madre

“I’m sorry” you sighed, voice breaking “I’ll never do it again”

The coldness of the glass against your arm made you peek from behind it to find her handing you some painkillers along with water. “I know” she simply said

“No use on getting emotional, ‘kay?” the closest thing to a reassuring smile formed on her face, it was the best one she could give you right now at least, to convince you it wasn’t that big of a deal and yet you could sense the undertone worry.

“You want me to help you before heading out?” she pointed at you and gestured towards the bed where your partner’s slept.

She saw you shaking your head before slowly getting up, she tried to help you but you brushed her hand away – you needed this, to know that you were still able to take care of yourself even after that mayor screw up – before embracing her in a much needed hug, she held you close while making sure not to squeeze to hard. She remembers the first time she got hurt like this and knew how painful it really was.

“Do you have to leave so soon? Marc’s more bitchy than usual after you’re gone” you closed your eyes to the feeling of her hair brushing your face, the scent of honey flooding your senses. She rested her chin on your unwrapped shoulder.

“I know” she breathed out, there was a slight undertone of worry on her voice, one so miniscule that you didn’t really catch it “But I know you can manage him”

You smiled.

She left you all alone, the light creeping in and the cold wood under your feet sending shivers down your spine, the painkillers were starting to take affect as you felt drowsier, you crawled into bed, careful not to wake up the man sleeping besides you or to accidentally hurt the damaged shoulder. The feeling of his arm instinctively reaching out for you was soothing you to finally go back to sleep.

~☽☾~

You expected after opening your eyes to be greeted by an empty bed, it wasn’t uncommon for you to be left behind like that and you really didn’t mind it. Both Marc and Steven thrived in the mornings, the rush of waking up early and get things done just before heading out, to be totally honest it amassed you how even after staying passed midnight Steven still managed to get up before the sun even rose while Jake was the total opposite, who’s only reason to leave your side and the warmth of the oh so comfortable bed – Steven had such a nice bed for someone who tried for so long not to fall asleep – was to be able to surprise you with a breakfast with some ‘flavour in it’.

His words, not yours. Poor Steven couldn’t seem to see the end of it when he cooked for the two of you, Jake pestering him about adding something that once lived and now tasted better with some hot sauce on top.

The morning birds and your night owl.

But the sight the morning granted you was worthy of heaven. Steven holding you close to him completely fixated by the shapes he traced on your thigh still covered by the blanket, he looked up after you inevitably left out the breath you didn’t know were holding in, you saw the small wrinkles on the corner of his eyes once he smiled at you.

“Morning love” it wasn’t long until you realized that his every move where slow and careful, almost calculated as if he was scare to shift a wrong way and cause you immense pain. He kissed your temple “Didn’t want to wake you up”

His accent was thicker in the mornings, a mixed of his tiredness and the dehydration from the night prior, you had the habit of taking a glass of water with you to bed, having it by your side in case either of you was thirsty but from all your boys, the only who refused to drink from the water you provided was Steven.

“Happy you didn’t” you turned to face him ignoring the immediate discomfort, you replicated his smile only yours was tinted whit malice “I would’ve kicked you out of bed”

He couldn’t help but laugh

“You’re… unbelievable” you felt him turning away, trying to get up but your arms moved quicker than your mind could proses it, wrapping them around his waist to prevent him to moved.

The pain from your torso came back, a quick reminder to keep you in place.

Slowly

“Stay” you tried to pull him closer but the pain was making it harder than it normally was “Please?”

He turned to look at you, the pained expression on your face made his gut stir, to say he was worried was an understatement, Steven was mortified by your state. It was written all over his face and in the way his fingers were almost shaking in the moment he placed a revel strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’ll make us some tea” he leaned in to kiss your forehead and his hand cupped the side of your face “It’ll make you feel better”

“I don’t want to feel better… I only want to feel you” your voice was low and raspy, you moved closer burring yourself in the crook of his neck, your good arm held the weight and while the other gently wrapped over his shoulders keeping him in place, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“How about this…” he said after a beat of silence, his hand rubbed softly the arm around him and the smell of citrus with a hint of cinnamon flooded your senses, his hair was messier than usual and you couldn’t see his face but from the way his breaths became more irregular you knew his eyes were glued to your shoulder and his mind to your torso “I’ll bring us some tea and we stay in bed, yeah? I was thinking maybe some movies”

Be careful

You nodded against his neck, your nose rubbing against his skin sending shivers down his spine, he gave a light pat to your arm before kissing it and walking away from your side, you almost could feel yourself slipping back, your arm giving up under the pressure only making you whine when your back hit against the mattress, you left your hands where they landed taking almost all the space in bed.

The mornings beside Steven were nice, starting your day with tea – while Marc preferred the taste of morning coffee and Jake settled with a cold glass of water – and vegan breakfast, sometimes there was toast with jam spread on top, other times it was scrambled eggs with beans to the side; today he completely outdid himself, coming back with a stack of pancakes drizzled with honey and frozen berries on top, a little cup filled with bananas and your tea in hand. He placed your cup by your side and kissed the top of your head while his hand cupped the crane of your neck and the little gesture sent sparks to your heart.

You tried to reach for the cup but Steven beat you to it, passing the hot beverage to you. It was milky and smelled like cinnamon and honey.

“Wait…” your head turned to look at him once both of you were tucked back in bed, your laptop proned on his chest so that both of you could see it while cuddling, he turned to look at you raising his eyebrows “Does this mean the bookstore trip is cancelled?”

“We can do that later” you used his arm as a makeshift pillow while he held you close, his hand covered your eyes playfully “right now you need to rest”

“No I don’t” you shifted to your side, putting your weight on your elbow almost peering over him.

From there you saw how he rolled his eyes and still kept a tiny smile on his face, how the laptop was placed on the floor for a moment so he could shift on his side. Now that you both were staring into each other’s faces you could see it, it was faint but it was there.

He was scared, the doe eyes he tried to suppress where still there as his worry ate him alive. You really fucked up, didn’t you? He reached for you, brushing the side of your body and accidentally making pressure near your waist. He saw first-hand how your face screwed up and you hissed at the sudden contact.

Too harsh

“I think you do” the tired tone didn’t match the perked up eyebrow adorning his face, he turned to reach once more for the electronic device and all you could do was scoff.

It really wasn’t the fact that you had to cancel your plans that bothered you, neither was spending away your Saturday evening watching movies with Steven, but you felt like a burden. You were the reason they had to come home earlier last night, why Marc couldn’t spend more time with Layla even if you knew how much he had been looking out for it and why now Steven couldn’t go out scavenging for new books to fill the blank spaces in his bookshelves, because even if you insisted for him to just go without you he wouldn’t even budge.

Calm down.

Steven was glad you couldn’t hear his thoughts or you would get a glance of how he really didn’t know how to approach you right now, he tried his best to just breath it out but his first instinct was to leave you in bed and just sit on the chair by the end of it, just coming closer when you needed something, because he didn’t want to cause you pain. But he knew better, he knew that the moment he went away from your reach he would be causing you an ever greater pain, so he settled for distracting both of you from it until it was time for him to bring you the next dosage of painkillers.

You picked the movie, an animated one that you haven’t seen since you left college. You laid with his arm around you, his warmth mixed with the blanket and heather helped you not to shiver, as the hours passed the temperature started to descend and the movie ended just in time for Steven to make a quick trip to the kitchen, bringing you back a glass of water and a tablet of medicine, you opened your mouth slightly sticking your tongue out so he could place it there before handing the glass to you.

You saw how he strolled back and forth before coming back to bed, taking away the dirty dishes and bringing both of you a new cup filled with tea, his was sweet while yours was sour. You liked the taste of sweetness in the morning when it was still blissful and quiet while opting for a more strong taste in the later hours, maybe it had something to do with the fact that you could never seem to find sugar at work and always forget to bring your own, and right now that’s what you needed the most, a sense of familiarity and a taste of your routine.

Like everything was fine, like you didn’t mess up.

“Steven?” the next movie had already been going for a couple of minutes before you decided to speak up, at this point you weren’t even paying attention to it, only using the sound from the laptop as a way to drown out the otherwise silent flat and loud mind.

“Do you need something love?” he paused the movie already getting up.

Keep calm

You shook your head and looked the other way, trying hard to avoid his stare.

“I just…” trying to gulp down the knot forming in your throat was hard. The guilt from yesterday’s events was revived and you couldn’t stop but think of how everything would’ve been different if you just listened “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the night or today for that matter, I really wanted us to go and– “

He called for your name as he moved closer towards you “It’s alright, you don’t have to apologize”

“But I do!” there was an urge bubbling in the pit of your stomach, to find a culprit and the only person available to be condemned was you “I was dumb and reckless, and you always tell me but I never listen, and if only I listened this wouldn’t have happened”

“You saw being picked on and you went out of your way to help” his hand cupped your face softly rubbing your cheek with his thumb “There’s nothing to apologize for that”

“Still–“ you felt pressure on your face as he pushed his forehead against yours, it was nice. It helped you to notice how you were tangling your hands with the blanket, gripping it hard.

“Tell that little nob of yours to stop nattering” you closed your eyes trying to focus solely on his voice and drown out the thoughts that crossed your mind, you felt the way the mattress moved under his weight when he approached you, his face finding its way towards your neck “And come take a bath… you stink” his words came through with laughter and your eyes suddenly opened as you gasped.

“You little shit!”

Taking your shirt off was a challenge he imposed himself, unable to stand watching you while you struggled to even move the arm, you tried to push him away but after a while of just fighting with it you left him do it instead. The fabric being pulled and thrown away, his calloused hands were soft against your skin careful not to tuck at the bandages that kept the wound shielded from his eyes, it was better that way, the immense relieve of not having to face it just yet, avoiding thinking about it, avoiding acknowledging it besides the lingering knowledge that he had to give you a new dosage of painkillers just after shower and not to be too rough near it.

He could just pretend it didn’t exist for a few more minutes before he had to clean it and change it. Out of sight, out of mind.

The same can’t be said by the bruising and scratches on your torso, splotches of purple and green mixed with crimson dashes reminded you of watercolour and your hand instinctively mode to it. It was captivating, brushing near it without making any pressure, oh but was it tempting. Alluring you almost, like a chant that made you compliant to the urge to dig into it, to just lean into the splashes on your side and make sure that it wasn’t just a trick of the light.

But it wasn’t the light, it was an admonition. Don’t indulge into affairs of the gods and don’t drift into the business of others.

He reacted quicker than you did, managing to pull you away from those thoughts, his hand guided yours away from your skin and his lips left soft kisses on your neck as it was the closest he dare to get to the wound.

Steven made sure the water was warm and not too hot or too cold before he helped you get into the tub. He sat right next to it, scrubbing away the sweat and worried from you with the help of a sponge, you wanted to move his hands away, to take it from him but you aching body wouldn’t let you. So you just indulged against your wishes to the care your partner provided, he made sure to not get to close to your shoulder and to clean away quickly near your ribs.

The water echoed in the tiled room and the light steam from the tub painted the mirror, his hands were all over you but it didn’t feel dirty at all, the care that grazed his gestures as he moved from your legs to your torso and finally your arm, moving it around slowly to scrub it clean, while making sure you were alright.

“Does this hurt?” “Just let me know” “Do you need a break?”

You tilted your head, peering from the edge of the tub to look at him, his figure was soaked, his arms covered in water and soap reaching to the rolled up sleeves of his jumper, the stains where the water had splashed were darker and somehow his hair had managed to also get wet, your heart ached with the need to pull him inside with you and repay the favour by scrubbing his worries away, clean him of the nasty thoughts that tormented him.

“Steven” If it hadn’t been by the calmness in your voice he would’ve thought that something he did hurt you, maybe his hands were harsher on your scratches, maybe he moved your arm too hard and your shoulder was resenting it or maybe he was just too worried to be around you at the moment. He looked back at you rising his eyebrow and with what resembled a smile “Thank you for this”

You closed your eyes in time for him to kiss your lips, it was soft and quick but filled with the unconditional love you had for one another.

“Any time, love”

~☽☾~

You had to call in sick for work and explained what happened, you tried to push it back for as long as you could but Saturday came to an end and with that the deadline was something you had to face, at the middle of your peaceful Sunday Steven went away as Jake pushed himself to front ‘quiero ver tu carita hermosa’ was the excuse he gave that granted him with you smiling immensely and rolling your eyes, for him it was amusing seeing you faking being annoyed.

Right now you couldn’t be gladder to be sleeping and waking up beside him, after Steven thought it would be a great idea to put pillows in the middle of the bed to keep you ‘safe’, to keep you away from his touch. But Jake just laughed at the thought as he embraced you in his arms, softly but steady, feeling your chest moving as you breathing relaxed him into sleeping better, the pressure in his arms helping him to sleep through the night and the strong scent of his cologne having the same effect on you. You got up thanks to the smell of breakfast and the feeling of emptiness besides you, it was weird that you missed it but right now being left behind was the last thing you needed.

“Buenos días dormilona” he took the pillow on his side of the bed, letting it fall right in front of your face and this muffling your groans “roncas horrible, did ya know?

That little bitch

A shit-eating grin was plastered on his face, the one you’ve got to know real well, his hair was pristinely combed back and was wearing only a pair of boxers – which wasn’t unusual –, while Marc preferred to wear them combined with a t-shirt to bed and Steven couldn’t even fathom the idea of not wearing pants while sleeping. He preferred to lay with you like that, to be able to feel with every inch of his skin that you were there besides him, to know you were his and – right now – to know that you were okay.

“Mira quién habla” you scoffed at him, pulling the pillow into your arms, pressing it down a bit against your chest, the markings on your torso being something that don’t bother you as much anymore, and you were grateful because that meant that you could enjoy being able to feel his rougher grip on your waist as he hugged you against him. “You talk in your sleep and I never say shit about it”

He licked his lips trying to supress a smirk.

“I’m confessin’, mi amor. That’s between Konshu and I”

His tone was condescending and yet you knew he meant no ill intent by it. He saw you get out of bed and how you were struggling to get out of the shirt you wore to sleep, but he didn’t budge, knowing that if you needed his help you would ask for it. Eventually you did, he didn’t mind at all helping you take them off, enjoying the sight of you and to leave a trail of kisses along your back, on your shoulder blades and slowly coming up to the nape of your neck. You kept those little instances close to your heart, savouring the moment with closed eyes and total silence, to hear the loud ‘smack’ that his lips did against your skin. His hands trailed from your stomach, past the bruises and scratches on your waist and ribs to stop barely under your chest.

The movement was made with ease as if he knew not to tiptoe around you. To not make you feel weird about it.

Maybe it had something to do with your upbringing, after all, growing up in a house were movement meant working and that correlated to the amount of recognition you got, the praise and love being tide with how useful you made yourself to be. You couldn’t stand to be put, feeling ill and remaining still making you anxious. For some reason you thought that feeling couldn’t be topped by anything else and then you discovered it, being a burden was something much worse.

But Jake somehow knew about that, at times you felt like he could hear your thoughts just glancing at you, reading you like an open book. And so his steady grasp was there when he help you get a new shirt – one with the smell of his cologne – with all the unsaid feelings and longing for each other.

You could feel how much he craved to pull you closer, to forget about what had happened and just loose himself in your lips. For his mind to go quiet as it couldn’t focus on anything else but you, in your hands pulling him closer, to be engulfed by you. Or maybe you were the one with those cravings.

You walked up to the kitchen, taking a look at the now empty glass still placed on the table, the droplets of water rolling down from the water Jake took a few minutes ago.  You ate the breakfast he cooked, the boiled eggs with enchiladas bringing you some remembrance of peace, you tried your best to stay grounded, to be present in the moment but he noticed how your mind trailed in the midst of it, a look he knew too well because he has been the one wearing it in the past. He was worried about you, not so much for the wounds that adorned your body, he knew how tough his partner was and that they could take that shit with ease, no, what really worried him was your mind.

Because he knew you like the palm of his hands and know how it wouldn’t give you a rest, filled with thoughts that even if Steven tried his best to scare away they still remained. He would do anything to help you stop them, he just needed you to open up about it. There was something else, something you weren’t telling him, something that bugged you with no end but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He called your name like someone does after being ignored for a while, maybe it was because of the way your fork had been circling against the empty plate or your lost gaze that’s being seeing right past him or even just because he has handed you the tablets of medicine as he refilled your glass with water.

You felt exhausted and scared that he might share the sentiment.

“Lo siento” you took the pills from him plopping it in your mouth and drowning it along with your words.

“Esta bien mi amor” his hand was now on your hair messing it up, he knew how much it annoyed you but he didn’t care because he also knew how much you tried to supress the fact that you actually enjoyed whenever he and Layla did it. “You don’t have to apologize”

“No, es que…” you inhaled sharp, looking up at him. His body was leaning on the table, his weight on both of his arms and the dangling star adorning his neck. “I messed up that night and-“

“I know what you meant, but you don’t have to worry about it” he crunched down, now he being the one looking up at you and you slouched feeling the back of his hand rubbing against your cheek “The bastard is gone, we made sure of that. And you’re okay”

“Wait you did?” You saw him nod content, there was that relief washing your features, not more furrowed eyebrows and worried eyes. “When?”

“no importa amor, lo que importa…” he got up helping you do the same, the feeling of your hands on his was something he couldn’t get enough of, the softness of them against his tainted skin sending a shock of tranquillity through his body “is that you lived to be annoyed by me for another day”

He saw the hesitance creeping back in your eyes and how this fixated in the way your thumb rubbed the back of his hand, tracing the scars that remained on them.

“Hey” his voice was soft, your foreheads pressed against each other and his nose softly brushing yours “Everything is okay”

“You promise?”

“I do” his grip on your hands became sturdier “And I’m no liar”

You left out a tired chuckle “Only when it benefits you”

“Hate the game not the player” the corner of his lips tugged up once more in that stupid grin you fell in love with. He came closer, his hands coming up to grab your head, you leaned into the touch, your hands wrapping around his wrists with a smile on your face.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes” you rolled your eyes but you weren’t actually annoyed, he knew that and you knew that he did.

“I’m pretty sure it is” he closed the distance, pressing his lips against yours and your arms trailed slowly around his neck, the discomfort was there and yet it was eclipsed by the pure ecstasy of tasting him, of having his hands not caring of your damaged skin, grabbing it to keep you right there for him.

Your leg moved up and he helped you to place them around his waist, to have you pressed against him. You could feel your stomach beginning to swirl in anticipation, your shirt riling up when he carried you carefully through the messy apartment back to bed. That bed, that precious bed that held you still like a home you don’t seem to be able to leave, your place of rest for the past two days. Coming to the point of feeling chained to it but right now, in this moment felt more like a throne than a prison.

Where you normally found desire and desperation with torn fabric and sloppy kisses was only love and peace, the care that he felt being transmitted to you. He needed you to realize and understand how much they loved you, for you to understand that forgiveness wasn’t something they could grant you, because it was something only you could give yourself. They didn’t blame you for anything that happened and you needed to understand that, god he really hoped you understood it. It wasn’t your fault.

It was written in all his actions, in how his lips grazed over the purple, green and scabs in his way down, because he knew how it felt to be ashamed of having a wounded body – even if the damaged was caused by protecting someone – and he refused on giving you that option. His hands holding your legs in place while he ripped sweet sounds of pleasure right from your throat.

Those words he gave you just minutes ago replaying in your mind like a chant that would be cemented in your brain for the rest of your days. “I promise, everything is okay”

His lips pressed against yours, shaky breaths clashing against them as you felt his grip on your hips and the way his eyes roamed your face for a sign to stop. There wasn’t.

Everything is okay

His curls hanging on your face while he kept a steady pace, not to rough but not to slow. Just like you needed, he mumbling sweet nothings in Spanish right against your ear, the words falling almost in desperation for you to catch them and keep them near your heart.

Everything is okay.

Your hands intertwined together faces adorned by blissful smiles.

Everything is okay

~☽☾~

Your arm was extended In front of you, the back of his hand against your palm as you tried to analyse every aspect of it, laying on the couch was nice, after talking for a bit while scavenging through the flat and realizing you were all out of snack both of you decided to go buy the missing ingredients for cinnamon rolls, the grocery bags laid on the kitchen counter still packed as the two of you laid together on the couch with a blanket laying across your lap, your back leaned against his chest and his fingers playing with your hair with the occasional kiss being left on the crown of your head.

“How about I become a vigilante?” you jokingly said, the humorous tone made him tilt back his head before nudging it against yours.

“How about ya don’t?” he said only half joking, if you didn��t know him as well as you did you would’ve thought he was angry at you, but he wasn’t.

It was hard reading Lockley sometimes, to the untrained eye it would seem like his waking days where just a cruel joke he had to live through, that he was angry just for existing but in actuality he just had that kind of face, the one that keeps people at arm’s length even if he is nothing but polite, forcing him to just cherish the company of the few people who seemed to look past it. Enjoying his time with the ones he cares about, going out of his way to see Crawley every now and then, going to Gena’s dinner whenever he had the chance, texting with Layla every other month and spending all the time he could by your side.

“Come on! It would be fun, I could star sparing with-“ you took a deep breath before continuing “At least you have to admit I would look great, covered in battle scars” you let go of his hand and leaned to the side to look at him comfortably.

He shook his head.

“Me gustas asi” he left a kiss on your wounded shoulder, it was loud but didn’t leave traces of pain “no te cambiaría nada”

The feeling of him pressed against you was comforting, the warmth of his body making the pain tolerable and traces of guilt only an afterthought that you didn’t even focus on instead the migraine inducing reminder that it was. And yet your mind didn’t seem to feel like giving up, making that aching question that you’ve managed to push back for a while something more present and distracting.

“So…” you said elongating the ‘o’ “I know you’re not mad at me”

He hummed for you to continue, there was a small frown on his face as he paid close attention to your words.

“And I know neither is Steven” you tried your best to find the exact words to describe what you were feeling, thinking, aching to ask but it was hard, why was it so hard? You sighed “But I… ¿Qué hay de Marc?”

“¿Qué con él?” His fingers grazed through the side of your arm as a way to tell you ‘hey, it’s fine! You can do it’

“Is he mad at me?” you blurred out, finally spitting out the thought that made your stomach swirl, you glanced at him before looking down to your hands, resting on your lap “I mean, even Layla has called to check on me and-“ you sucked in a breath, his hand reaching out to tangle in between yours “I haven’t heard from him since it happened”

“No mi amor” he pulled you in closer to him, as close as he could without harming you in any way. “He’s ashamed”

He couldn’t stand the tint of guilt creeping back into your words or the way you seemed to become smaller, hunching away from his embrace, how the seemingly nice afternoon turned slowly in something more. You turned to look at him, scooping to the other side of the sofa away from his reach.

“He feels like… this is his fault” he confessed, his eyes looking briefly to your shoulder before coming back to meet your gaze and his hand reached to his temple “and he’s fuckin’ yellin’ all of the sudden”

You wanted to ask for him, to be able to hold Marc and reassure him that none of this was his fault, but you were hesitant, never demanding any of your boyfriends to front before. But the need was there and it was big, so scared of what his mind could be telling him, because for a moment it reminded you of the echoes of your own thoughts. You knew Marc, how he could get caught up into himself, so blinded by the bad thoughts that kept him in place. Sure you had bad days but you also saw how hard his ‘good days’ seemed to be, coming close to those where you weren’t able to leave the bed without some encouragement.

Yet Jake seemed to understand just what you needed without having to spell it out for him and in a split second he was gone, pulling marc to the front. You saw how his eyes grew larger with hesitance and the fear that coated them, how his eyebrows were furrowed and the way his lip trembled as he backed, pressing his back harder into the sofa, and a sudden rush of coldness passing through made you shiver. You reached for his arm but he flinched at the movement, the striking paint going from the tip of your fingers to the wound in the shoulder and tearing a whine out from the depths of your throat.

“Fuck” he said, his eyes frantically looking at you – trailing from your eyes to your chest, down your hands, hips and back to your eyes but not the shoulder, never the shoulder- as he couldn’t stop his body from shaking, It felt weird seeing him like this, frail and scared. Like those nights he would wake up drenched in sweat from a nightmare and would plea you to go back to sleep before going for a new glass of water. But right now it was a bit different, looking like a stray animal that tried to find shelter out of reach from reckless kid that tried to pet him.

Because of you

You saw him becoming stiffer in front of you, how his breath seemed to come to a pause as his hands tried to reach out for you even if his mind screamed to do the opposite, to keep you away where he couldn’t hurt you anymore. The thing about Spector is that he knew deep down, under all the love and longing that he had for you how much danger you were in just by knowing his name, by wrapping your arms around him as you slept together with his back against your chest, and by having a knight for company.

Because that’s what he was and with that came the responsibility of protecting you, even if you insisted and proved how capable you were on taking care of yourself, it was something he felt obligated to do, to keep you safe since that tumultuous night you stumbled into him. Since he fell in love with your soft words and careful touches as if you knew how much damage he has gone through and just how badly he longed for someone to soothe him back to sleep.

When his mind decided it would be great to bring back those faces of the people he had managed to cause pain along his path.

In a loud house a silent room is a blessing, tucking his heart under the bed where the noise doesn’t reach. It’s only a matter of time until he learned that a loud house is something out of the ordinary, something to fear and want to escape from.

Fuck the loud noises, the yelling and screaming. Fuck the shattered plates and thrown pots, the cracking belts and the stinging hands.

He just wanted the peace, security and quietness of a tranquil house, a noiseless home. Things that you handed to him with ease, as if it was something so common, something that didn’t come from obligation, because it was so normal and yet he couldn’t comprehend that something like that could ever be given to him, even if someone had already done it before.

And yet you did. You gave it away without whining or expecting anything in return from Marc because the spark in those brown eyes and the creases that formed around his mouth whenever he smiled was enough pay for you. Feeling the need to scream into the wind how much you loved Marc Spector, to let the world know that no matter what happened you would be by his side. No, to be by their side, because your love didn’t stop at one of them, it seemed like your heart was made in the perfect way to fit into theirs, like a puzzle piece that would be incomplete otherwise.

He tried his best to remember that, to know that everything was okay but he saw how much he had been a toll in other people’s lived and he dreaded the idea of becoming one in yours. He noticed how less frequently your mom called since you started to date him, how you made up excuses not to go back home since you started to live together and how your spark seemed to die down whenever someone pointed out your hometown, it was miniscule but it was there and it pained him.

“Marc” you called for him, he had no idea when both of you left their place on the sofa or when you took his hands in yours, your eyes trying to catch a glimpse of his, making his chest ache in the process, seeing the worry building up in your features.

He should be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.

His hands left yours as soon as he realized, blinking to fight back the tears that started to pile up in the corner of his eyes. This was too much, the air starting to feel heavy and the walls seemingly closer than normal and yet to far apart, no matter how much air filled his lungs it wasn’t enough and he just wanted to go.

“Hey” you took his hand slowly placing it on your chest, his eyes following along. He saw the way your chest moves steady and slow, he tried his best to mimic the rhythm closely but it was hard “breathe” you mouthed, noticing how hard it was for him to actually listen to your voice.

Run

You saw the way he shook his head creating more distance between the two of you, not bearing to touch you knowing what he had caused.

“I- I shouldn’t have…” he tried to speak up but the dryness of his throat made it almost impossible, his hands reached to his chest pushing down on it in hopes for ease the pain growing on it and maybe even being able to push out the words in the process “It’s my fault, I should’ve gone with you, I shouldn’t have left you alone”

He stumbled through his words, trying hard not to listen to what his mind was telling him and instead stay with you and talk things through, he wanted to scape, to go back inside so whoever wanted to take his place could but he pushed through it, feeling both Jake and Steven close to him as if reassuring him with those same words he kept repeating to himself this past days ‘everything is okay’.

You wanted to run and pull him into a hug, to keep him safe and snugged against yourself with your hearts beating near each other but didn’t know if that was the right thing to do.

“Marc” you breathed “It wasn’t your fault, I wanted to go alone”

You were crunched over still trying to even out your breath, it was hard almost impossible with the circle of people around you, leaving barely enough space for you to think.

Layla was too focused on calming down the brunette girl that seemingly could cry a river all by herself, the one that trembled under her friend’s touch as she dragged her hand along her back to ease her. You wished the world would go silent for a moment so you could hear what they were saying without having to move.

That’s when you saw him walking back, almost sprinting to your side after getting rid of the guy that punched you. He wanted to make him pay for what he had done but the thought of you heaving here all alone while Layla made sure the girls were okay was enough to drag him back with that need being unfulfilled.

He reached out to you, helping you to get back on your two feet and getting a whine out of you.

“Are you-“

“Okay?” you cut him out nodding, the pain was there but nothing you couldn’t breathe through “Yes, don’t- yes bebé”

“Hey so…” Layla leaned on Marc’s shoulder once she was back “the girl’s came alone, apparently her birthday? Also exchange students” she sighed “They have no one who can pick them up or take them home”

“I- We can take them” you heaved through, still trying to recollect your breath.

“No” she shook her head and placed a hand on your shoulder “You need to rest, I’ll go with them, make sure they are safe”

You looked at them understanding that there was no way of changing that.

“I guess” you sucked in a breath and closed one of your eyes in a pained expression “But let me walk you to the bus stop, I need some fresh air”

Her eyes drifted away from you as she thought about it for a while, desperately wanting to say no but once she looked back at you, she understood exactly what you were thinking of.

“I guess” she finally said.

“I’ll go with you” he voiced out, his eyes left Layla’s to look back at you, he knew just how stubborn both of you were but hoped he could convince you somehow.

You shook your head chuckling and patted his chest “It’s not far, I’ll see you at the car”

You needed this, to be alone for a second. To know that you could be one minute without being scared, to know that this wouldn’t become something you’ll be afraid of next time you wanted to go out.

“I should’ve insisted” he wanted to step back but for some reason his legs weren’t responding to his commands, hot tears beginning to stream down his face.

You moved slowly towards him, afraid of making a wrong move that would scare him away. One hand resting on his chest while the other reached to wipe away his tears and slowly guiding him to look at you.

“Oh bebé…” it was soft and short but full of memories.

“No” he shook his head placing his jacket on ready to go down street with you “I’m going”

“Marc, please…” you weren’t asking anymore, you were begging to him and he noticed it “I need this”

He was afraid of the funny feeling in his gut telling him to not let you win, to push back and go with you even if you would be all moody in your way back home but the pleading eyes were too much, the sound of your desperate voice asking for his trust.

He sighed

“It’s my fault” he said once more and you couldn’t tell if those words were directed to you or to himself. His voice felt tinted by the bitter ring of Wendy’s and Jake grew angry at them while Steven felt pure sorrow.

“It’s not your fault” pushing through the pain your hands guided his head to press his forehead against yours “everything is okay”

It wasn’t much of a reminder this time, it was a promise.

It took a while to get him out of that heavy mind-set, his breathing becoming less frantic when he finally started to listen, to actually understand what the words that you gave him meant. He tried hard not to flinch away when your fingers reached for his, keeping the little hiccups at bay when your hand ran through his back, his eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, and he told you how his nose felt stuffy when you passed him a napkin. You tried to cheer him up, cleaning away the mess from his face while he apologized for ‘everything’, you didn’t exactly know what everything meant for him though and you wished to believe he only meant to apologize for forgetting how none of this was caused by him, for forgetting that his arms where the place that made you feel like you were truly home. Of course you reminded him with a simple ‘it’s fine’.

“How about we make the cinnamon rolls?” his eyes remained closed and his head leaned against your touch when you brushed his dark curls away from his face, enjoying the view of his now relaxed expression.

You always found it funny how your lovers shared the same face and yet they had their unique way of making it ‘theirs’, how they managed to look so different.

“Yeah, I’d like that” he replied nodding slightly, he felt you pulling your hand away and held it in place to leave a small kiss before any contact between the two of you was lost.

“Just… remember to double check” you laughed seeing him rolling his eyes, he pushed softly your hip with his fist before leaning to take out the bowl you always used while baking.

It was nice, knowing he wasn’t scared of being around you as he was a couple of hours ago.

“I swear the salt and sugar look the same!” he wrapped his arms around you.

Careful

He reminded himself once more, this time it wasn’t directed to Jake while patching you up or to Steven while dressing you down but to silence all the other nasty thoughts that threatened to ruin once more his time with you. He wouldn’t let them win, not this time at least.

He couldn’t let them because he wanted this, to spend his time away next to you, craving desperately to hear that laugh that melted his heart away and forget once and for all that anything bad could happened or that occurred in the first place. Nothing would keep that pleasure away from Marc, not even himself.

By the time you were done there were splotches of flours on your clothes and face, not even the kitchen counter and floors were speared of the mess. Marc’s proud smile when he passed you the sugar instead of the salt container was picture worthy and you tried multiple times to sneak a taste from the uncooked batter just for him to smack your hand away making you giggle.

He took a little bit of glazing with his fingers for you to taste, it was delicious.

You were laying on the floor, the cool hardwood floor contrasting with the heat coming from the oven, it was nice, the mix of the cool temperature on your back with the slight warm on the air, there weren’t a lot of things left to say emerging yourself in the comfortable silence, it only being disrupted by the ticking clock on top of the counter that counted down the seconds until the rolls were finally done. After a little while of lying next to Marc he finally spoke up, a little ”hey” rushing from him.

You turned to look at him, his eyes set on the ceiling and a smile slowly making itself present on his face, shining like stars in the night sky.

“Have I ever told you, what I thought when I first saw you?” it came with traces of laughter, the embarrassment of reminding that night mixed with pure disbelief.

You shook your head “No”

“I just- I just wanted to kiss you” the lights were dim making it hard to see, but you knew his face would be glowing in a lovely shade of crimson as he moved his hand covering his eyes “I couldn’t believe someone like you would walk up to that mess and call me amor”

It was late at night in the pub near his old apartment, the one he used to share with Layla, he couldn’t be further from home but he didn’t mind it – Steven’s flat never really felt like home to him anyways – as he could use some time walking alone with his thoughts, it wasn’t that late into the night but he was already as drunk as he could be and it was time to get going, he just needed to remember where his keys were.

It would also be really helpful to be able to stand up without gobbling and plastering his face on the floor. His head rested in between his hands leaning on the bar with a glass of whiskey he didn’t remember ordering next to him.

The pressure from a hand on his back made the man turn faster than you expected, not even his fuzzy senses could manage to slow down his reaction when he felt your lips pressed against his cheek. And then he heard it, your voice ringing in his ears and bringing him an unexpected sense of peace, one that he hadn’t realize would be possible since it left packed inside his ex-wife’s suitcase, fuck! Why was he thinking of her? That was the solely reason he had even gone out tonight.

To forget

“Sorry… do I know you?” his Chicago accent was stronger when he drank and in the mornings, but it’s not like the person in front of him would know that.

The hand left its place on his back as if the mere contact burned harder than fire and he couldn’t explain why he wanted to ask for it back, was he that desperate? That touch starved that he would feel the need to ask a stranger not to back away? To just keep you close to him and your touch on his aching body.

“Steven?” when the name fell from your lips it all made sense and he couldn’t help but feel worse for longing the touch from someone that wasn’t his to long for. He couldn’t be selfish and keep love away from his alters just because it was kept from him.

Fuck, his eyes focused on your lips feeling himself slipping away, his gut stirring at the urge to beg Steven to give him just five more minutes with you and maybe get to know each other.

This definitely would be a night impossible to forget.

The little bell from the oven rang and you turned with excitement, Marc got up and helped you so your eagerness for a sweet treat wouldn’t hurt you in the process, it was still a while for you to actually eat them and you knew that but fuck were you excited for it.

“I wanted to ask you” he was slicing the still hit rolls for you to finally have that sweet you were craving, after all your impatiens was notable when it came to stuff like this “about your má”

“Yeah?” your eyes jumped from the plate in front of you to him, going to the fridge and taking something to drink for both

“Did something happen?” he sat on the opposite side of the table, hand playing with his wristwatch.

“No, why are you asking?” you moved your plate to sit next to him, your hand reaching for his and your head resting on his shoulder.

“I’ve noticed she hasn’t called” he reached for the box of meds that made its home on the table, handing you some water along with them.

“Oh yeah, she’s just busy” you smiled and plopped them in your mouth “Starting a business is hard”

“What?” he tried hard not to sound as confused as he was but failed miserable “I thought- when did that happen?”

“Well… she’s always talked about it and, after a while of pushing I finally managed to convince her to open her own restaurant” you sighed and shrugged “told her I could go down there to help out for a while but she told me not to worry. I know she is busy and all but sometimes I just… it wouldn’t even make sense for me to visit her right now if I’m not going to help, you know? Don’t want to be a-“

You fell in silence, not knowing how to put what you were feeling into word.

“Burden?” he heard you hum and shook his head “You’re not. I really thought you fought or something” he was relieved to be in the wrong.

“Why would we?” he shrugged “well we didn’t so stop worrying about it”

“Is that why you haven’t gone?” he saw the way you rolled your shoulders, the pain no longer there.

“A part of it, yeah. But maybe we could go together next time? I would love for you to meet her”

You’ve talked with her about your boyfriends, it took her a while to understand what it all meant but once she couldn’t help but be glad her ‘little baby’ was loved by someone so strong and capable, sometimes she would say hi to them when you were on facetime.

“I would like that too”

You kissed his shoulder and then his neck, trailing up to kiss his lips, his hand cupping your face

And in that moment there weren’t big descriptions to be made.

Only silence and kisses with taste of cinnamon rolls.

me adding the translations? wow that's something new

¿Te lo dije, o no? - I told you so, didn't I?

¡Respira maldita sea! - breathe god dammit!

Steven, si no te callas juro que-“ - Steven if you don't shut up I swear-

Mi amor - My love

¡Mierda Lockley! - shit Lockley!

y no quiero dejarte - and I don't want to leave you

Jake, ya… porfa - Jake, come one… please

Mierda - shit

Puta madre - fucking hell

quiero ver tu carita hermosa - I want to see your pretty face

Buenos días dormilona - Good morning sleepyhead

roncas horrible - you snore horribly

Mira quién habla - look who's talking

Lo siento - I'm sorry

Esta bien mi amor - it's alright my love

No, es que… - no, it's just…

no importa amor, lo que importa… - doesn't matter love, what matters…

Me gustas asi - I like you like this

no te cambiaría nada - wouldn't change a thing

¿Qué hay de Marc? - what about Marc?

¿Qué con él? - What about him?

No mi amor - no my love

bebé - baby

má - (short for mom)

[sufjanoflove]

To Know Him Is To Love Him

Featuring: Nanami Kento x reader!

Synopsis: Falling for one another on the train

Warning: I didn’t proofread bc I’m just too lazy lol! 💗💗💗

About the song: I was listening to this song, repeatedly, while writing this so I needed to put it on here for you lovely readers xoxo

Entering the train, I had no idea what I was doing. Is it even called a train? A subway? Metro? I’m not sure, all I knew was that I was very lost. Keeping my composure, I enter the silver machine that is called whatever I want to call it, and find a seat.

Except, there were none. I got into the train 30 seconds before it was going to leave, obviously no seats were going to be left. I walk the isles as my favorite classical piece plays in my headphones, calming me down before I panicked. I always was too dumb to think things through, why hadn’t I arrived earlier? It’d have been easier that way, but I guess my mind was thinking of other things.

Like the fact that I randomly took a vacation in February from my teaching job, just one week would suffice. My kindergartner’s would understand, right? I needed a break, so I left abruptly on a Sunday morning, and went straight to France. But I saw some tickets for Vienna that were really cheap so I took my chance. France was good for the first three days, but I wanted to enjoy my trip even more.

Now, I was just wishing someone stabbed me to death so I didn’t have to endure this embarrassment. At last, I found an empty seat and sat. It wasn’t long ‘till I realized there was a book, reading glasses and a briefcase in the seat facing me. I know, I know, I should’ve left but there were no other seats! It was either be embarrassed by everyone in here or be awkward around one person. Maybe it’ll be a nice girl, become friends with her. Or an old man, since the glasses looked vintage alongside the briefcase. I had no other choice but to stay.

I opened my book, Murderer’s prefer Blondes, and left my headphones to shuffle through my classical playlist. I needed to calm down and Erik Satie did its justice. Only for like 2 minutes before someone sat in front of me. I decided to act mysterious, try to be cool and never looked up. I stared nonchalantly at my book, pretending to read.

“Good book?” It was a man’s voice, a very sexy one. It was smooth, and very pleasurable to the ears. I wanted to hear more of it, so I decided to be nice and respond.

“It’s amazing.” I looked up and he simply stared at me, smiled to my answer. Wow this man was handsome. My realization of my singleness punched me in the face just by staring at his handsomeness.

It was quiet for a moment, so I took out my headphones to hear the noises of the train and other peoples chattering.

He looked out the window before I spoke.

“Is it a bother that I sat here?”

“No, none at all. Why would you think so?”

“I always assume,” Shrugging, “I was just scared you were some pretentious businessman.” He chuckled before looking at his stuff.

“The briefcase does that for some.” He looks back at his stuff again, “I mean I am, kind of, a businessman.”

“Oo and what is a businessman doing in the countryside of France?”

“Running away from my problems.” He smiles, “and what would a young lady be doing here as well.”

“Far from young, I’m 25.”

“You’re young.”

“How old are you?” I ask

“Old.” He stated.

“Come on” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“27.” He chuckled, me laughing alongside him. 25 to him was young but 27 was old? I know it was a joke. It wasn’t funny but he’s cute so I had to laugh.

“I like your laugh,” he says, “it’s soft, like honey to my ears.” He complimented my fake laugh.. I should fake laugh more often. Pause- what if he was making fun of my fake laugh? I only fake laughed because of his joke.. This is why you’re single, oh my gosh!

Blushing, I hit his knee softly.

Swiftly, he caught my wrist, continuing, “I’m serious. It’s beautiful.” I tilt my head, smiling at him. His face was still serious but broken softly with a slight smile. I briefly analyzed his features, taking in everything like his eyebrows, his beautiful nose, and his soft lips. Those lips are so pretty, I wish I coul-

I shake my head, laughing at myself before looking back at him.

“It’s funny, I said the same thing not even a moment ago, just to myself.”

“Hm, I guess we both enjoy each others voices.”

“Guess so.” Coincidentally, it got quiet. We both stopped talking but stayed admiring each others faces. After a moment, he says

“You never answered my question.”

I gave him a confused look, “What would a pretty lady be doing in the middle of nowhere, in France?”

He leaned back into his seat, looking me in the eye. Seizing the moment, I began to ramble on and on about how awful my life is, how tired I am but how the little babies I get to see each day make up for it. How Europe seemed so beautiful on all of the films I watch, how I needed a breath of fresh air. To just enjoy life and it’s beauty, taking my start in Europe like every other American.

In the whole conversation, we both began to understand eachother and the reasons why we both were on a train, speeding through Europe. He spoke so little but his words painted thousands and thousands of pictures.

After what felt like forever, we stopped. Well the train did causing us to stop talking, and we realized it was because we arrived to his destination.

“We talked for three hours.” I stretched, looking at everyone leaving. He stayed seating, looking down. Why isn’t he leaving? He’s going to his stop.

“Hey, before you leave,” I leaned forward, forcing eye contact, “I’m Y/n.”

“I’m Nanami.” He looks up without looking towards me and out the window, a sense of stress washed over him. I could tell because my kindergartner’s would do the same as they’d debate whether or not to ask me about something. Was he going to ask me something? He’s 27, not 5 shut up.

“Come with me, y/n.” I choked on the Diet Coke I was drinking and covered my mouth. My reaction was not valid, not only did I overreact but I embarrassed myself. He didn’t ask you to marry him, not even to fuck him, yet I think ‘hey, maybe it’s a good idea to spit out your drink and have it dripping all over your lips’

Such an ingénue.

Nanami hands over a handkerchief, of course he has one, and I dab my mouth onto it.

“You want to kidnap me, Nanami?” I smile, as he puts his hands up shaking his head.

“Have you ever seen ‘Taken’? I’m not about to be sold. I know martial arts, mister. Try me.” I fold his handkerchief, and keep it on my lap.

“Look, I work a 9-5 every single day, coming home to an empty apartment, on an empty stomach with a migraine thinking my life isn’t worth it. Our long conversation proved to me that life is short and shouldn’t be spent on being stressed all the time. It should be spent on doing things for the thrill of it.” He looks at me, with his carved face. Staring at me, intensely, similar to a statue in a museum. Ooh a museum sounds nice, I need to remember to see one here.

“Now answer me, honestly, would you like to come with me?”

“No.” I reply, his face drops almost instantly.

Why would I word my answer like that? GOSH YOU’RE SO IDIOTIC YOU PROBABLY BROKE THIS MANS HEART BY WORDING IT THAT WAY??>! STUPID! STUPID! STUPID!

He immediately reaches for his stuff but I grab his arm. “You should come with me.” The blonde man’s face responded with a cocktail of confusion and shock.

I grin, heart racing whether or not to ask him the same question.

“I’m just too excited for my trip to Vienna, i was in France for way too long already. The least you could do for me is come to my destination and I’ll hang out with you there.”

He ponders for a moment, a lady making an announcement that the train will depart soon. “Okay.” Nanami softly says, “I’m okay with that idea.” I sat next to him as he lifts a hand to brush my hair out of my face.

Kind of awkward because I reached up to push the same hair away and we bumped hands.

Laughing, we began to talk about the adventures that await us for the day.

———

© sufjanoflove — all rights reserved to me, Leon, the author and creator of these works. do not translate/claim my work as yours on any platform.

[martianbugsbunny]

Remember in S7, when Rumple told Wish Hook (I’m paraphrasing here bc I don’t remember the exact words) that he was basically the closest thing he had to a friend? I think that’s cool. I think it’s important, and lemme tell you why.

That curse, as far as I can tell, wasn’t on for too long. It wasn’t like the twenty-eight years the people in Storybrooke had to make their new friendships. And Weaver and Rogers were only partners for a few weeks to a few months of that time anyway. But that time was clearly important to Rumple, because A) Weaver seemed to like Rogers, even though he kept getting in the way, and B) he continued to like Rogers as Rumple. It’s a little harder to tell how Rogers felt during that time, because he often acts annoyed when he doesn’t understand what Weaver is doing, but in the end I think he wants to respect and even like Weaver, even if it’s hard to do so sometimes. Because Rogers never totally turns Weaver away; he doesn’t quit as Weaver’s partner, and he does go to Weaver for help every now and then.

I’m also gonna go out on a bit of a limb and say it appeared the Rumple enjoyed his time as Weaver, after he woke up. Once he knew who he really was, and what he was really supposed to be doing in Hyperion Heights, he legitimately went out of his way to be gentle with Rogers. He tried to include Rogers more in what he was doing, but he also couched his truths in terms that would be easier for Rogers to understand. If he just wanted to keep Rogers around as a pawn or an asset, he might’ve told him half-truths, but he wouldn’t have made them so easy to swallow or easy on Rogers’ mind. There’s a difference between Rumple when he’s telling half-truths to manipulate someone, and when he’s telling half-truths (specifically to Rogers) because the full truth would simply be too weird. Was he already a better man at that time? Yes, yes he was. But he had to make the choice to be kind to Rogers in particular, because he was still rough around the edges, and it was a choice he did make. Repeatedly.

Also, I’m willing to bet Hook and Rumple were friendly before the curse. First off, Hook’s reaction when the curse was broken was not Rogers’ feelings about Weaver, it was Hook’s feelings about Rumple. He seemed not only to tolerate his existence, but also kind of pleased to see him again. That’s not what I would expect if their only interactions before the curse were when Rumple found Alice to be the Guardian. (Although, honorable mention: Hook’s attitude went from “goshdarn crocodile” to “dude’s alright” pretty fast, when he realized that Rumple was protecting Alice from the magic of the Dark One.)

Anyway, after the *honorable mention* moment, there is clearly some time before the curse happens. Not quite sure how much, bc time in S7 is insanely fluid and hard to read, but I would go with couple months to several years. And since Rumple seems to have been hanging around Alice for most of that time (the way I read it was that Alice decided to low-key keep an eye on him when he lost his sanity, because she wished she could’ve done more to help him as the Guardian?) and if he was near Alice, but not always by her side, then I think it’s probably he ran into Hook a few more times. I’m going to stake myself on them meeting pretty regularly, and connecting on a deeper level now that they’re no longer enemies. It probably started as Hook asking after Alice, but over time he realized that he enjoyed having conversations with Rumple just because.

Regardless of whether they knew each other for several years total or less than a year total, it’s clear from how Hook responds to waking from the curse that he views Rumple as more than a simple acquaintance, and I think it’s also pretty safe to say it’s not just because Rogers and Weaver were friends. I also think their friendship after Rumple wakes up is pretty telling, because Rumple treats him differently than he’s treated basically anyone in the history of the show. There must be some deeper sense of fondness and loyalty there, although their relationship before that, which is fractured, but has an underlying draw for them both to return to each other, even if it’s by coincidence, is also pretty beautiful.

Is this analysis rooted in the fact that S7, and Weaver and Rogers specifically, not just Rumple and Hook, had an undeniable chemistry that led me to ship CaptainCroc in multiple different scenarios? I’d be lying if I said no. (One of my favorite ideas is Rumple realizing that he could have a new love, surviving the finale, and him and Wish Hook getting together.) But I also think that, as friends, their story is compelling and rather lovely, and the fact that it’s a completely different Hook, one who Rumple hasn’t had centuries of history with, makes it even more beautiful.