#it’s just gonna be stupidly nerdy i think

[snowangeldotmp3]

photoshop is so fun i love playing with pngs and layers

[cheonstapes]

HAPPY 1K THOUGH LET GO AHHHHHHH IM SO HAPPY FOR YOU

But request time gurl!😘😌✊, so what about a nerd!Miguel\dom x nerdygirl!reader LIKE IMAGINE THE FLUFF AND THE SMUT THERE BOTH BE A BLUSH MESS but I feel like Miguel would take the lead and show he dom when doing it like dont blame me! 😭✊ like he still nerdy Miguel we all know the sweet boy but let make the nerd that friend s with the popular group and have a girlfriend who is nerdy!reader and which is a very shy person then Miguel is.

Pls my life depends on this request gurl and I hope your having a great day though BYE STILL SO HAPPY FOR YOU EACHING 1k following

-���

miguel o’hara stars in… ‘OUR FIRST TIME’ (ﾟωﾟ)

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.miguel o’hara x reader.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

SMUT

you and your nerdy boyfie, miguel, have your first time together 🩷

cw; loss of virginity, creampie!!!!!, iloveyous, it’s actually really cute, womb fucking ig, softdom!nerd!miguel, NAWT PROODREAD!!!

2k+ words

@cheonstapes: thank you sm lovelie🩷🩷 apologies it took so long but this was so fun to write and i love your mind. i hope you enjoy beautiful! also tumblr keeps fucking up my italics and bolds so im gonna add them on later!

you and miguel had to have been the most stereotypical couple at the university.

who would’ve guessed the two biggest nerds on campus would’ve gotten together — especially when it was because of your shared interest in genetics. but to miguel’s friends, it was so sweet — a little cringe, but sweet. seeing that it had already been a year since you two started dating, the two of you not being able to hold a conversation without stuttering and blushed profusely was quite concerning.

every time you looked him in the eyes, your heart would suddenly beat a million times faster — face flushing, hands trembling as you try to come off as calm as possible. it was so embarrassing, you could cry just thinking about it. he had such pretty eyes hidden behind those thin frames, didn’t make it better that he would stare into your soul every time you talked.

but miguel wasn’t any better — in fact, he was worse. his whole friendship group being the talk of the college helped miguel to open up more, the persistent attention meaning he had to adapt to being surrounded by people. the incessant staring? that’s him trying to make himself less nervous by making you more nervous so you would stop looking at him so he could admire you without you realising — long, i know. but he loved how sweet you were, the way you were so deeply in love with him — just like he was with you.

walking out of your biology lecture, he speeds up walking to catch you on the othwr side of the room — gently slipping his hands into yours. you tense, looking up at his handsome face before relaxing — “ah, m-miggy!” he smiles so softly, wrapping his beefy arm around your waist. “hey, pretty — you finished for today?” his fingers squeeze the fat of your hips, pulling you into his chest as he leans against a nearby wall.

he always knew how to make you so fucking nervous, staring down at you like you were the centre of his world — which you in fact were. “yeah! i was just gonna go back to my dorm and study. would…well, it’s ok if you’re busy — but do you, maybe, wanna…” god, why is it so hard to ask your boyfriend to hangout! he knew what you wanted to ask, he just wanted to hear you say it. “do i wanna what, hm? i mean — i don’t have any plans later either, i was thinking of going to pete-“

“no!” a brief flicker of slight panic takes over your face, you refuse to be that much of a mess to the point where you can even ask your own boyfriend out. “i mean, would you like to come my dorm tonight? t-to study, obviously.” amazing job, girlfriend, amazing job. once again, he wore that stupidly handsome smirk — fingers kneading the soft flesh of your waist. “study? of course, babe — why didn’t you just ask?” prick.

miguel always said he found it easier to study when you were right next to him — as in, resting in between his legs as your head lay on his chest. “did you get the answer to number 8? i think i missed that lesson…” you tilt your head, looking up at him. you looked so cute with your little glasses as you studied, a small pout on your lips as you tap on his leg for him to help you out.

he was thinking a lot of things right now, and none of them were the answer for number 8. before he met you, miguel was always deep in his studies — head buried in a textbook every night. but now you’re his, he can’t think about anything else. the outline of your chest against your tight shirt, pert nipples straining against the fabric since you insist you feel better without a bra — he wasn’t a perv, but damn if you were making him feel like one.

“u-uh…i think — uhhhh…” he was really fucked. your cute little giggle and the way you shimmied around to sit on your knees, hands clutching his cheeks. “migs, you’re burning up! you ok?” he was no ok, not by a long shot. despite having so much attention on him simply because of the people he’s friends with, miguel was still very much a virgin. yeah, he’s jerked off before — but that was only after he met you. your entrance into his life awakened a part of his brain that he thought was forever stored away — and he did not know how to deal with it.

sex was something the two of you were yet to talk about, 2 years into the relationship and it was like you were kids about to have their first kiss. there were lingering touches here and there, but oh how badly he wants to feel your sweet pussy around him. “can… i touch you?” he could barely register the words that came out of his mouth before he takes in the way your face changes completely. the heat radiating from your cheeks could melt the arctic, that was the one thing you weren’t expecting to hear. at all.

of course, you were a virgin too — all in all saving yourself for miguel for when the time comes. you just didn’t expect it to be so soon. he looked so depraved already, panting softly — hair tousled from when he was laying down, you want him so, so bad. “u-uh, yeah — go ahead!” you didn’t mean to sound so enthusiastic, but miguel didn’t care — a hand immediately trailing up your plush thighs, toying with the edge of your panties under your skirt. “you’re…you’re so pretty.” he could feel his hands shaking, heart pounding in his chest — the warmth of your skin and the small moans leaving your lips were fucking with his head.

the tender skin was so sensitive, causing your thighs to tremble under his touch. he didn’t expect you to be so sensitive. fuck, did he want to tease you for it, but he couldn’t talk — not when he was already about to bust when you haven’t even touched him yet. “mmm — m-miggy.. please..touch me.” you could tell he wanted to, he just didn’t know where to start. his fingers ran up your inner thigh, teasingly running over the small wet patch on your cute panties.

he felt like a newborn learning how to walk again, the rugged rhythm in which he was working your little clit showed how inexperienced he is — but you didn’t care, especially not when you yourself couldn’t even notice his lack of technique. he fully pulled your panties down your legs, throwing them to the side — there was a sharp in take of breath from him as he stared at your bare cunt, his bulge pressing harder aganst the mattress.

“g-god, baby, can… can i taste you, please?” miguel couldn’t believe how desperate he sounded, he had dreamed about eating your pretty, little pussy out for ever now, the thought of you denying him that now would break him. “y-yeah, fuck. please, miggy.” his tongue immediately latched onto your clit, swirling and sucking it into his mouth as his fingers probed your tight hole.

he knew you would need some extra prep to be prepared for taking him, so he made sure to make you feel as good as possible — he wasn’t about to let your first time be your worst. the fat of your thighs were tight around his head, holding him in place as he steadily fucked you with his tongue. for someone who was a virgin only 20 minutes ago, he sure knew how to work that tongue — your breathy moans breaking through the sloppy squelching noises of your wetness.

“migs…i — mmph!” the sensation was unknown but not unwelcome. a firm pressure in your tummy that felt like a dam about to burst all over your boyfriend’s face. miguel’s watched enough porn to know what that sound meant, reluctantly sitting up from his position between your legs to peer down at you — drooling cock bobbing between his thighs. he licked your arousal from his lips, shakily grabbing onto your legs to push them over his shoulders.

“baby, ‘m not letting you cum until you’ve had my cock in you — ‘s not how it works.” he felt like he was going insane, the sight of your pussy, so tantalisingly close to his length — the chubby tip poking against your entrance. you could only nod, you couldn’t argue with that — not when you’ve been waiting for this moment. upon getting your approval, he wrapped a beefy hand around his cock — smearing his pre-cum along your puffy folds.

he was so slow when he pushed into you, the sheer girth of him stretching your poor pussy thin. “fuckin’ hell, baby— s-so, so tight.” his strong hips pounded against your pelvis, your skin tinging a faint shade of red. your body was jostled against the headboard with every thrust, a thick rim of cream forming at his base. miguel was lost in the feeling of your cunt, drooling mindlessly against your neck as he rammed deep inside of you.

“m-miguel…!” the harder he fucked into you, the shakier your voice was — whiny moans and heavy grunts reverberated through your small dorm room. he couldn’t believe how good fucking you felt, your velvety walls gripping onto him like a life line. miguel was completely delirious, only letting incoherent mumbles — a bruising grip on your waist as he brings you back against his cock.

“ohhh, f-fuck…! iloveyou, so — shit, so much!” your pussy was so good, he didn’t even realised it slipped out — i love you. he really did, and in this moment — there was nothing else but the two of you, connecting so beautifully as you give yourselves to each other fully. he messily sucks on the skin just below your ear, simply grinding into your womb as his hand trails down your back — squeezing the flesh of your ass to pull you flush against him.

“i…i love you too, migs.”

you..you love him too? fuck. his hips stilled, gooey cum filling your cunt raw as he pours all of his love into you. miguel’s back heaved, his arms giving out under him as he falls on top of you — wrapping an arm around your waist as he carefully rubs your clit. his heart was soaring, smiling down at you as he fucked himself into overstimulation — determined to see you cum all over his cock.

“my pretty girl, you’re all mine — wanna see you cum. you gonna cum for me, yeah?” god, his voice was husky and deep — tickling your ear and sending tingles down your spine. your legs trembled, cunt spasming as it gushed out that clear liquid. it coated the sheets below you, splashing against his stomach — a low, gravelly moan leaving miguel as he filled you with his cum once again.

the two of you laid in silence for a beat, panting softly as he rested on your chest. one of your hands moved up to cup his face, picking up his glasses from your bedside stand — placing them on his face, albeit with wonkily but it matched that dopey grin on his face. “i swear to god, i’ve turned you into an animal, migs! you sure that was your first time?” giggling, you kissed his lips softly — nimble fingers brushing through his sweaty hair.

“guess i got a bit carried away, huh?” he sighed, softly rubbing your tummy. “‘s not my fault i’ve got the most beautiful, sexiest, most loving, caring, perfect, goddess of a girlfriend anyone could wish for.”

miguel was embarrassingly in love with you, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-smack myass like a drum

[anakinstwinklebunny]

PAIRING: popular!hockey player!anakin x nerd!reader

FLUFF ❦

You are going to kill him. Starting with his hands, then his stupidly-handsome face and this insufferable grin. The rest is just a matter of your anger and frustration. Why? Because ANAKIN SKYWALKER had been playing with you for weeks, claiming you as his new victim. Stealing your food, stealing your things, stealing your time, and probably - definitely - stealing kisses from you..

"You," you seethed, pointing an accusative finger at him, eyes narrowing at the thick novel he twirled lazily between his long-too-tempting fingers. "Give. It. Back."

Anakin's eyes snapped the moment he heard your voice, setting them right on your face. With that, he let his lips curl into this grin you found insufferable (let's highlight that) and hot. In all his cocky, utterly beautiful glory, he had the nerve to lean back in his chair, stretch his long legs out, before spreading them, and flipping through pages like he had all the time in the world.

"Mm," he hummed, pretending to skim a sentence. "Y’know, sunshine" he clicked his tongue "This is pretty interesting stuff. Who knew you were into—" he glanced at the cover, lips curling, "—grumpy historical philosophers?"

"You wouldn’t understand," you muttered, reaching for it— or just trying to, because he yanked it away at the last second, holding it just out of your reach.

Maker, you hated him. Despised him. (Did not, under any circumstances, thought about him at night, or in class, or in very specific daydreams that made your lower stomach do things.)

"Alright," he mused, tapping his chin. "I'll give them back… but only if you give me a kiss."

You blinked. "A what."

"A kiss," he repeated, completely unfazed, as if the request was normal..to him, of course. "Right here." He tapped his lips, smirking like he knew it would drive you crazy. "C’mon, sunshine, it's a fair trade."

Your face burned. Eyes deeply, shockingly gazed into his "Anakin, I swear to the Maker—"

"Ohhh, she’s threatening me now," he teased, blue eyes twinkling. He had the time of his life.. "What are you gonna do, huh? Report me?"

"Yes!"

"To who?" He laughed, tilting his head. "Mr. Kenobi? Because I just saw him leave for his lunch break. You could wait until he’s back, but…" He sighed dramatically, pressing his lips in fake-dissapointed, thin line "I don't think you have time, sweetheart."

You groaned, ready to throw the biggest tantrum right there in the hallway. Or throw the nearest chair at him, again, you weren't sure "You’re insufferable!"

"And yet, I think you still love me."

"No, I don’t."

"Liar."

You glared at him so hard, with such anger, hatred (not really), pure irritation at every cell in his body that decided to play with you, to tease you, to make your little comfortable world burn to the heels with madness. Yet, the problem was—Anakin wasn’t fazed at all. No, instead, his gaze softened, and his voice dropped into something more gentle, more reverent.

"You are so beautiful when you're mad, you know that?" he murmured, smirk fading into something softer, something fond, something that made your face burn as if it was on fire.

Because Anakin always did this. He always worshiped you, even in the most ridiculous moments, like he couldn't help but be absolutely, completely smitten by whatever you were doing. And it was weird, to be honest. After all, who were you, really? Just a nerdy girl with glasses, who spent most of her time reading books and playing games for kids...while, Anakin Skywalker, was the breathing perfection of this school. Talented hockey player, too handsome face, deep voice, A-student that didn't even learn (he had his ways)..every girl drooled on him, and yet, you were the one he chose..

"...Fine," you muttered, heat creeping up your neck.

"Fine what?"

"Fine I'll kiss you!" Anakin barely had time to process your angry response further before you grabbed his face and pressed the quickest, most barely-there kiss to his lips—just enough to make his breath hitch, to leave him stunned, to hopefully make him give your stuff back

When you finally pulled away, he blinked, looking shamelessly dazed. And that's to the God above, your book—once held hostage—was shoved back into your arms.

"...Damn," Anakin muttered, dreamingly gazing at your face "Should’ve asked for two."

You rolled your eyes, pushing past him. You did not want to be near Anakin Skywalker ever again...for today..at least for this hour.

TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @babybell-cheese @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @cloverina @nikiloveshayden

[spiderfunkz]

✦ RING, RING, RING!

"i think i can really fall in love with him."

word count : 0,9k

warnings : fluff, fem!reader, gwen is mentioned to be readers best friend, harry is mentioned as well, cutesy first dates, peter being just so madly in love & so are you. not proofread!

a/n : inspired by that one scene from 'before sunrise' where celine and jesse pretend to call their friends and tell them about each other :)) also i know i'm late to valentines but it's still february sooooo

if you told yourself a few days ago that you'd be spending valentines day with peter parker, you would laugh at the thought of it.

but right now you couldn't laugh at anything but peter's stupidly unfunny jokes and his cheesy, dry, pickup lines.

you couldn't imagine what valentines would be like with peter parker, but you don't have to. you're experiencing it right now.

he had asked you in a way you've only seen in rom-coms from the 90s. he knocked on your door with a ridiculously large bouquet of flowers, a heart shaped box full of chocolate, and a nervous nerdy smile.

and you accepted it obviously. peter's nice. really nice. out of all the boys in your class, he's a gentleman compared to them.

he's got those big brown doe eyes that make you blush if you make eye contact. that weirdly fluffy hair, that makes you wonder what his hair care routine is like sometimes. the sweetest smile you could ever imagine. and a heart bigger than a size of a lake.

and my gosh, you love him.

he made a reservation at this restaurant. one that you've passed by many times but never seem to stop by. you've always thought it was too fancy for a normal hangout with friends or family, it was always crowded with couples too. it always had a jazz band playing, roses on each table, and you could smell the scent of love from outside.

it was everything you've ever dreamed of. you didn't want it to end but unfortunately, the day got darker and the sun began to set.

"i really enjoyed today, peter." you smile.

"yeah of course. i really enjoyed today too." he replied, there was still a splotch of spaghetti sauce near his mouth.

"unfortunate that the hours went by so quickly, i think i have to go home soon." you pout, peter was still smiling, that spaghetti splotch is not going anywhere.

"or maybe we could still talk, for a bit." he paused for a second before making a hand gesture resembling a phone.

"ring, ring, ring!" he mimicked. you furrow your brows.

"pick it up." he stays smiley.

"okay, beep." you laugh, following his gestures.

peter mouths a 'thank you' before continuing, "oh yeah uh, harry? harry are you there?" he asks.

you knew harry, he's peter's closest friend. they're like two peas in a pod and you could never separate them, not even when harry moved away for years.

you join in his little joke. "uh yeah dude, this is harry. dude." you try to mimic his voice.

"yeah, hey harry! do you remember that girl i was gonna ask out for valentines? the really pretty girl from bio class?" his face became pink.

"oh yeah! the really pretty girl. i know her."

"yeah so, she's with me right now and i am just so happy."

"really? how happy?"

"extremely. she's so fun to talk to. she's so incredibly wonderful and i cannot put it into words how beautiful she is. really harry, you were right. she's an angel."

you smile. "really what else? how did the date go?" your voice rasps, clearly you couldn't really perfect the accent harry has. but peter seemed to like it.

"amazing. the food was great, this restaurant is good, i uh- got the reservation in time so everything has been going perfectly.

she's such a ray of sunshine. i can't stop stealing a glance every time, harry. i dunno what's about it, she's just so- perfect."

peter continues. he's doing it on purpose. well, not really, he was going to call harry and say all of those things. but he thinks it's better to tell you face to face. besides, he loves seeing you smile.

you try your best to blurt out a reply without stuttering. "that's um, that's amazing, dude. i bet she feels the same way about you." you could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

"you really think so?" peter tilts his head.

"i'm sure."

"well, thanks harry. i'll see you later, bye bye." he hangs up, mimicking a beep on the table.

you laugh.

"okay now it's your turn."

"my turn? oh, okay." you gesture your hand.

"dring, dring, dring!" you say, "ugh she's probably studying right now." you explain.

peter picks up, in a voice that will haunt you for years. "hey, girl! what is up!" peter laughs.

it took every cell in your body to not burst out laughing in front of everyone in that restaurant. "hi, gwen. is uh- is your voice okay?" you ask.

"better than ever!" — "oh, okay." you hold your laughter. "um, you know peter? peter parker from biology. the one with fluffy hair and pretty eyes?"

peter smiles, he blushes from his nose.

"yeah so, i'm on a date with him right now. and it feels like a dream. he's prettier up close. he styled his hair, yeah, it's pretty. and he's got spaghetti sauce smeared near his lips." you smile.

peter immediately fixes the splotch, finally.

"he's kind of tall. and he's kinda nerdy too. just my type." you cover your smile, "i like to feel his eyes on me when i look away." you continued.

peter smiles, "what a nice guy."

"he really is. as the date goes on i start to like him even more. i feel like i can really open up to him."

"really?"

"mhm. he got me flowers and some chocolate too. he's funny too, he's got a voice i can listen to for hours. he's like a shot of espresso, you know?"

peter couldn't hide his blush anymore. "a shot of espresso?"

"he makes me feel energized in a way, and he also makes my heart beat really fast." you laugh, "i think i can really fall in love with him."

[kiwi-luminaryofthestars]

03/02/2025 Progress Update:

Why hello again! We're back to the phantom thief au, whoop whoop!! So excited to continue with this!!!!

Just to update you on where we're at with chapter 5, I already have 14.1K drafted and I'd say it's halfway done... Uhhhh yeah, this is going to be stupidly long—probably longer than chapter 4. I just have so much to goddamn do in this chapter that I'm at the mercy of only so many words to say it. But, if y'all still like it being long, then hopefully that's a benefit and not a disadvantage.

Most of today's writing wasn't actually drafting, mostly researching and writing notes for the incomplete first section. I hadn't intended on this part being very detailed, BUT I got so enraptured by reading about forensics and trace evidence that I just couldn't stop myself from including SOME nerdiness. I want to give Shuichi an okay amount of detective-ing that isn't JUST the phantom thief so it can further solidify his skills and be something fun to read about, and a lot of the first section is detective-ing. I read a fuck-ton of articles about glitter, pollen, and entomology forensics, which WOW is so goddamn interesting!!! Like holy shit I want to be a forensic analysist; this is so cool.

I did have a question for people who follow my updates, if you've read this far and feel so inclined, about what would be more desirable to see. Would you like to see more Danganronpa characters as unimportant side-characters?? Obviously, IMPORTANT ones will eventually show up, but would it be interesting to have a homicide case involve characters we know?? I feel a little weird about having dead characters show up for Shuichi to investigate loll but I feel like I see so many other fics place other characters around, and I wonder if my limited range of characters is feeling a little boxy.

I didn't give the strangler an actual character (mostly because I thought it more appropriate with Shuichi projecting his uncle onto them that they not have a distinguishable character) and I'm unsure if that's how it should continue. My sister has expressed she thinks it would be weird but could work lol, so here's my call to the limited masses asking your opinion. To me at least, it's the same whether or not they're an actual character in this franchise, so it's up to you whether you'd enjoy a face/name attached to it lolol.

Anyway!! Excited to keep going with this, I'm so fucking pumped. I could not give you an ETA on when this chapter will be done, especially since the move is coming any day now, and I'm already so swamped with packing, but I promise it will come!! I love writing this thing so much; no matter how it'll end up being received, I just adore this process. I almost despair at the idea that it might be done one day because I could write it forever. BUUUUT of course I'm excited for people to see the climax, too, so my double-edged sword it will be.

Hope you all have a lovely night and beat those Sunday/Monday blues!! We've got this; Monday will not stuff us down. Corporate hellscape be damned, we're writers and we're gonna paint our little world with artistry.

[theproloser34]

Aight, so with Spider-Man 2 coming out on PS5 soonish, I’m gonna rant about a discourse that’s been happening on twitter (and maybe tumblr, haven’t seen it yet) about black hair in video games. This all comes from the new hairstyle they gave Miles Morales in the game

Now, it ain’t a bad hairstyle. I think it fits him quite well. But people online quickly noticed that this haircut is part of a trend currently with black video game characters. It seems to be the go-to hairstyle for some

Now, it’s easy to see why this hairstyle because super popular lately. It’s because of one dude, Micheal B Jordan in Blank Panther. Like dude rocked it and looked so hot doing so. Damn near almost had me getting that hairstyle too.

But I wanna defend the big use of this hairstyle for two main reasons. First, it works well from a character design perspective. Since it is such a newer, trendy haircut, you can get a sense of the character being more fashionable, more trendy, you can tell they care how they look and how they carry themselves. It also works for younger characters to give a difference on how the culture has changed with hairstyles (if there happens to be another black character that has an older hairstyle)

Now for Miles specifically, it works because it is digging into the old trope of “character grows out hair as they grow into themselves.” Miles in the first game rocked the Super Smash Bros Afro, which I mean… nerdy kid, a little insecure, doesn’t really know how/even want to clean up himself. Like I get it, been there myself

In Spider-Man Morales, he actually cleans up a little. Gets a nice fade going to signify his new responsibility. So now a year later, starting to grow the baby dreads just makes sense

Now the other more selfish reason why I’m defending this hairstyle trend is… JUST LET GAME DESIGNERS LEARN HOW TO ADD ONE MORE HAIRSTYLE TO THE THEY CURRENTLY GIVE BLACK MEN. Like this discourse forgets that for as long as I’ve been alive, most games got 2-4 of the same hairstyles for black people. A fade, cornrows, Rasta dreads, and then Afro which sometimes if’s just at a stupid length. So, imma let them add one more and overuse it, because I just need something new.

Plus I haven’t seen this cut yet in a character creator. Most character creators only got like 2. The Sims 4 got like 6 with all the dlc. Baldur’s Gate 3, even with how great it is, only had like 3-4 black men styles. In Japanese games, I might be lucky to get two. Monster Hunter Rise practically only has the stupidly large Afro. Like, that’s just not ok. Video games still have a long way to go for black character customization. So I’m happy if we at least start getting a new trendy one in games more often. Cause at least it’s still a start.

To end this rant, I’ll leave y’all with an RdcWorld clip that just contains my feelings

[rosenlily-aka-choconut]

season 1 rang's necklaces were such a sexy choice peeking out from his shirt collars. every time he showed up in that white shirt i died a little bit. black is his bad guy color but they gave him white when he needed to be vulnerable and that made it even more appealing.

ok my story about his opening scene was that i thought his little nerdy persona was gonna become ji-ah's sidekick or something or even a boyish second lead to contrast to yeon. he bothered to explain his whole backstory! i thought for sure that meant he'd be important! but then i stared at his face a second longer and recognized him from the posters and was like OH MY GOD HE'S THE BAD GUY and then 30 seconds later he does his transformation sequence and climbs into the car with gorgeous yongji and i was like. oh. uh oh. this is how it's gonna be is it. welp 😂

also after thinking about it more my favorite character of his after rang is probably yijung. he didn't reach his full potential because a the show was stupidly written and directed and b because his plot was secondary but it let him explore cruelty and vulnerability and arrogance and kindness (i'll never forget he actually stood up for jandi to junpyo being a bitch) and basically just do really well for a young actor. again why i want him to do a role like that again potentially with even more amorality and greater depth after 15 years of experience.

-kbcu anon

You know, before I started with TOTNT, I had finished all other LDW dramas. After Game of thrones and its pathetic last season, I began looking up shows before beginning with them, checking out the end, and when I happened to do that with TOTNT, I read about this character Rang and how he completely overshadowed the leads.

Now, being an LDW fan, I wasn’t happy with that, but when I read that LDWs character got a happy ending and this Rang fellow dies (yes, I was okay with that because I didn’t know Kim Beom then), I started with it, expecting to like Yeon.

But the moment Beom entered the scene, I was bowled over. My plan to hate Rang and like Yeon began fizzling out and failed spectacularly when I came to episode 9. As I moved on, I resented Yeon’s plan to keep Jia alive at the cost of so many others. I’d have been happy if she’d died in Rang’s place. I would even have been okay with it if Yeon stayed dead at Episode 15.

But… we got what we got and I cried when Rang uttered his last word, “hyung.” Season 2 was a consolation prize, putting us in a happy bubble where Rang built a life of his own. And… while I can’t forgive what they did to him in season 1, I think it’s best I confine myself to this bubble 😊

As for Yi-jung, I would’ve probably appreciated that character if he were a little older - would’ve been more convincing. I’m definitely sure he’ll nail it if he did a similar role now. Like I said 2020!Rang would’ve made a very convincing playboy!

I quite liked Lee Gook-soo - he’s a bright ray of sunshine, though it took me some patience to wade through the show. His chemistry with the second girl is cute!

P.S : 2020!Rang had the top button of his shirt open in a lot of scenes - That little skin show does things to me ☺️☺️

[queen-of-elves]

A missed date

Steven Grant x reader

Summary: Your date is late, not just an hour or two but two whole days. Good thing you really like him.

Author note: Steven Grant is so stupidly cute my mind can’t comprehent it. Btw this was not proofread so read at your own risk. 

Warnings: swear words, Steven Grant (this cutie deserves his own warning), tell me if I missed something

Words count: over 860 words

Part 2

***

You were so excited, finally having a date in what felt like a century. No, you were definitely not a wallflower, you just like to know people a bit before it gets too serious. He was perfect, well not really, a bit awkward but handsome and very intelligent  nonetheless. He has the cute nerdy vibe around him and every time you saw him he was always polite and friendly. You met Steven at work, him being a “gift shopper” and you working down in the archives. Walking around him from your lunch break became routine full of soft waves and shared smiles. You often lied to your coworkers about how faster the route seemed even though the gift shop and entrance to the underground archives were on different sides of the museum.

Everything seemed great at first, you decided on a Friday date at a steakhouse… And this stupidly cute moron stood you up. Didn’t call, not even a short text of SORRY, nothing. You sat there like an idiot for three hours. It was not all bad the first hour, you thought maybe he was running late or something. Worse was when you started to get pity glances from the waiters, who numerously asked you if you wanted to refill your glass. At the end of the night you ate steak alone with almost the whole bottle of wine.

 That’s what you get for having your hopes up. 

You thought while drunkenly stumbling through London streets to your flat and when you finally got back, slipping your feet out of the high heels you chose for the date felt like heaven. 

“All for this for nothing. Killing my feet for that idiot.” At this point you were not only yelling in your mind but sharing your opinion on this ruined date out loud with your plants.

Monday is gonna be shit.

***

It was Sunday and you decided to cook yourself a nice dinner before facing Steven in the museum the following day. Dreading your situation of monday, maybe you could avoid Steven for the rest of your life, that would be possible if it wasn’t for your noisy coworkers, who would definitely ask about your not so lovely date. Loud ringing of your phone ripped you out of the awful inescapable maze of your spiraling mind, if only for a moment. Because you were right back when your gaze stopped on your phone with Steven's name shining on the screen.

Unbelievable, now he was calling? Whole two days after?

Debating over declining the call you put down a knife you were holding, who knows what you would have done with it if he made the situation even worse with this call, getting arrested for homicide was not on your New year's resolution for sure. Wanting to hear the reason why he stood you up on the date you accepted the still ringing call. “Punchy. Calling me now?” You snarled into the phone, throwing away the rest of the cut vegetables from the cutting board into a bin. 

“What do you mean? I am at the restaurant for steak. It’s steak time.” Steven sounded geniously confused and in the background you could hear people talking and plates rattling just like in a restaurant. Was he for real at the restaurant now? You set the date on Friday so what was he doing there now?

“Yea, I ate steak by myself, thanks. Two days ago.” The answer must have confused him even more, you could hear him pause in any kind of movement.

“What? I thought we said Friday? Today.”

“Right. Welcome to Sunday.” You laughed at the irony of this situation. Was this a joke? Did he decide that maybe you were worth his time now, or what?

Heavy pause followed before his stammering voice rang through the phone.”Come on,no. I think Friday still comes after Thursday, doesn't it?” This situation was getting to an unbearable level of ridiculousness.

“It doesnt change the fact that today is Sunday” Your last response was followed by a pregnant pause.

“I am so sorry. I-I really thought today was F-friday?” His stuttering voice holding your weak heart in chokehold was not helping at all. It really looked like he didn’t mean to stand you up.

“Are you telling me or asking, ‘cause I am not really sure, Steven!” Your anger still seeping out in your voice. 

This is a mess. What am I supposed to do?

Steven sounded genuinely confused and sad over the fact that he missed your date, like he didn’t mean to and wasn’t even sure how it happened. 

I am going to hate myself over this.

“Wait there!” You exhaled louder than you wanted.

“Wha-t? I don’t understand.”

“My God Steven, you are lucky you are so cute. I will be there in few, so don’t leave!” Rushing for your wallet and keys before struggling to put on a coat. You don’t have time to change clothes but that dummy has no right to judge you on your “lazy weekend” t-shirt after what he put you through.

“You have some explaining to do.” You laughed into the phone before opening your front door and leaving for your “second first” date. You were completely aware how ridiculous this situation is but hopefully he will make it worth it.

[reidscanehand]

for a kissing prompt im begging you to do 48. one person has to bend down to kiss the other person who is standing on their tiptoes with fem reader as i am dismally short

Pay More Attention

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUfem!Reader

Category: Fluff

TW: Spencer being self-deprecating, mentions of anxiety, germaphobia, and cursing

I just really loved this concept when I came up with it and I hope you like it too! I did change up your request a little to try and make the reader more non-descript in terms of appearance, but I think it worked. Love you xx

It wasn’t hard to avoid her, or, rather, he decided it wasn’t hard because, as with many things in his life, Spencer felt his awkwardness made it necessary. With people like her , anyway. With people that, sometimes - occasionally - took his breath away. So he started to keep bits of his personality to himself.

There were some things that were hard to keep to himself, like his dislike of touch. If anything, it seemed as though JJ and Hotch had informed her about it in her interview. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if it was something she’d picked up on her own. She happens to be a rather brilliant profiler in her own right, so her picking up on his slight germaphobia doesn’t shock him at all. It’s rather unfortunate that she’s so brilliant, really. It makes it even harder for Spencer to ignore his crush on her. 

And, of course, he views ignoring it as a necessity because he doesn’t have a chance in hell with her. She practically glows through cases, offering up little brilliant ideas, being kind and caring to not only the victims and their families, but to the rest of the team as well. It’s sort of stupidly easy to fall in love with her. 

But he tries - tries so very, very hard - to not be too much himself. He doesn’t want her to think he’s too annoying, too pedantic, too...too...too him. So he quietly sits on the fringes, has done ever since she joined the team. When he has ideas, he shares them softly, but he doesn’t offer up facts as easily as he used to, not unless asked. And, even then, he’ll write them down and pass them to Derek or Emily or Hotch, hoping it’ll support their findings in some way or give them a moment to shine in the case. But he practically refuses to share facts with her. If the team weren’t so hyper aware of human behavior, they could almost believe that he dislikes her, but, instead - and rather embarrassingly for Spencer - they’re all incredibly aware of his crush on her. 

Which is why Derek hardly bats an eyelash when Spencer stands idly in front of the desk he’s commandeered at the precinct their at this week. 

“What’s up, Pretty Boy?”

“Um,” Spencer fumbles, shifting his weight between his feet. “Um, the wiregrass remnants found in the victims car?”

“Yeah?” Derek replies, leaning back and looking up at Spencer, trying not to smirk at how nervous Spencer looks.

“Could you let Y/N know that that type of grass is most commonly found in the Louisiana bayou?”

“Sure I can,” Derek agrees, still fighting a smirk.

“Thanks,” Spencer mumbles quietly, turning around to walk back to the geographic profile on the board across the precinct.

“Or,” Derek’s voice stops him, “you could tell her.”

“Oh, uh-” Spencer stops walking, but doesn’t turn back around fully, speaking back over his shoulder, brushing a fictional bit of lint from his shoulder. “I think she’d prefer to hear it from-”

“I’m not in the habit,” Derek teases, “of assuming what women’s preferences are. But, I happen to know that Y/N would prefer that you tell her this bit of information.”

“Derek,” Spencer almost whines, turning around, “I can’t-”

“She’s gonna know it’s from you anyway, Pretty Boy,” Derek assures him, but Spencer surprises him, crossing back to the desk and leaning against it, his hands on either end.

“But if I don’t deliver it than she won’t know...she won’t know that I-”

“That you what, Reid?” Derek asks.

“That I’m...that I’m me,” Spencer admits softly. “That I’m too much...that I’m too nerdy...that I’m too awkward...I just...”

“Reid,” Derek breathes softly, standing up and pulling Spencer to stand straight, resting his hands on Spencer’s shoulders in a paternal manner. “There’s nothing wrong with being you. I wish you’d see that-”

“It’s...I’m...” Spencer trails off, “I just worry that I’m not good enough for her.”

Derek opens his mouth to retort, but is cut off by Hotch interrupting them with another break in the case. Spencer shrugs off Derek’s hold on his shoulders and returns to the geographical profile, avoiding Y/N’s gaze.

~~~

“Thank you,” Y/N says as Spencer enters the precinct. Hotch and Derek are interrogating the unsub - a Louisiana native, as Spencer had suspected. 

“What did you...how?” Spencer asks in astonishment. 

“I’m surprised that a genius like you hasn’t noticed how much I pay attention to you,” she teases sweetly, stepping slightly closer to the confused doctor. 

“I...you...you pay attention to me?” Spencer questions, his voice almost flat, too astonished for anything else as he attempts to comprehend what she’s saying. 

“Yes,” she nearly whispers, stepping right up to him. “Shall I tell you what I’ve noticed?”

“Um...s-sure,” Spencer squeaks. He’s nervous, but as she meets his eyes and smiles, warmth slowly erupts in his chest and he can feel a smile toying it’s way onto his mouth.

“You, Dr. Reid, are an absolutely brilliant human being,” she states, “but, you have an unfortunate habit of overlooking your own greatness.”

“I-” Spencer attempts to cut her off, but Y/N reaches up and gently presses her finger to his lips. As though he’s ready for it, he doesn’t recoil at her touch, but almost leans into it. He leans more into it as she removes her finger from his lips and wraps her arms tentatively around his shoulders, waiting for his permission. Permission Spencer gives wordlessly as he wraps his arms around her waist. 

“How on earth did you think I’d miss your genius facts? I was always hoping you’d have one for me,” she beams up at him, tipping onto her toes. 

For the first time in his life, Spencer knows exactly what his cue is, craning his neck ever so slightly to meet her lips. A breath away from her lips, he whispers, “I guess I just needed to pay more attention.”

~~~

Feel free to send me more kissing prompts from this list! xx 

[jaime-brienne-fic-exchange]

Fic Exchange Roundup: Modern AUs Pt. 3

Where and Why Don't Matter by TeaandBanjo for blinkbot (zoetrope731)

   Jaime Lannister needs to be at a meeting. Too bad he doesn't have the option to take a plane, not this time.

Two Tickets by Weboury for letters2the0

Brienne of Tarth, aged 12, and Jaime Lannister, aged 13 and a 1/3, found themselves attending the same summer camp for nerdy kids who love LARPing Medieval Westeros. Their encounter was full of the epic highs and lows that only the teenage penchant for drama can bring, to the extent many spoke of that summer for years to come. The rest of us… The rest of us have this abridged collection of letters, exchanged during the summer of —94 AC, as the only proof of what actually happened. *looks meaningfully into the camera* This is the beginning of a love story.

Dust to Dust by Octamercuria for everydayescapeartist

Having been recently diagnosed - Dr. Jaime Lannister heads to Riverrun General for his son's treatment under the care of Dr. Brienne Tarth

i lost myself in a familiar song by EllisJay for gypsyscarfwoman

When Jaime and Brienne had bought tickets to their favorite band's farewell tour a year in advance, they'd been stupidly in love and confident that they always would be. When they'd broken up, loudly and messily and angrily, neither had been willing to give up their tickets. Which was fine because they weren't stupidly in love with each other anymore. Or that's what Jaime thought until he saw her walking towards him.

all our souls are written in our eyes by cardinalgirl75 for Mel_Sanfo

Jaime is falling in love with a young woman with the soul and wit of a poet. Too bad he thinks she's someone else.

I think I’m gonna let you read my mind (‘Cause it’s last call, it’s closing time) by ImberReader for jencat

A chance takes Jaime all the way to a bar in Winterfell. There, he finds a bartender who challenges him in quiet ways, kids that will involve him in a snowball war and a home he didn't expect to find.

breath and bone by jencat for tuliptoes

"You could just come home," Selwyn offers, although they both know how this conversation goes. "Your room's still made up." "Too many stairs," Brienne says, tiredly. Home on Tarth is a tall, vague shadow on the other side of the headland, a well-worn path away. Close, but not too close. The key clicks into the lock of her grandmother's front door and she shifts her weight against her bag; balances the cane with her other hand. She thinks she should be used to this by now. "Someone needs to be here for the animals, don't they?" Her dad sighs; shoulders the door up over the point where it always catches. "I don't know why she won't let me fix this. The neighbour's been feeding them. That mainlander." *** Brienne comes home to say goodbye to her grandmother, and has an unexpected encounter.

slow dancing with the devil by makinggold for LadyRhiyana

Brienne is out for blood, and Jaime Lannister stands in her way. She discovers that they could be mutually beneficial to each other. But she never expected to get attached. (the mob boss jaime!au)

Re/union by Luthien for cardinalgirl75

Six months after an eventful night in the mountains that feels more like a dream than reality, Brienne makes an unwelcome discovery on the day she starts her new job.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 55

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 2,953

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Testing Boundaries

When you arrived at the kitchen a few hours later for dinner prep, you were surprised to find Ben conspicuously absent. At first you worried that he was afraid to show his face after being caught with Simon last night, but the staff member named Andrew informed you that he had temporarily stepped out when one of Negan’s men came in and said he needed Ben’s assistance with something. When Andrew verified the man’s identity as “the big smiley one with the mustache”, you had a feeling you knew just what kind of “assistance” had been needed. You weren’t even upset about it, because truth be told, Ben deserved some breaks from the kitchen. And you had a feeling that Simon possessed just enough carefree attitude and allure to make sure Ben got them. 

With the rest of the staff busy at their various tasks, and without Ben there as a distraction, you quickly became consumed with thoughts of your earlier conversation with Maria. She had made it seem as though Amber had been subdued, at least temporarily, and the rest of the wives weren’t in an uproar over the lack of attention from Negan, but the fact that a conversation about you had occurred at all put you a bit on edge. It was now obvious to the wives that you were the reason for Negan’s change in behavior, and you wondered how long it would take for that to leak to the rest of the community. And when that happened, people were sure to wonder and speculate, right? Hell, you had a bunch of questions still, and you were the one personally involved in the situation! 

By the time the first round of food was exiting the kitchen and being served to hungry patrons, your brain was starting to ache from how much that padlocked box of unanswered questions was jumping around, screaming to be opened and explored. You knew it couldn’t be ignored for much longer, but were terrified of what you might find if you let it loose. You already knew you were developing an emotional attachment to Negan, but if you opened that padlock and really took a look at the items inside, you might realize just how strong the emotions waiting to be uncovered really were. Hell, you had almost stupidly blurted some of what you were feeling out in the woods yesterday, and had barely caught yourself in time. 

Besides, the scariest part of opening that box wasn’t just looking at your own emotions and asking the tough questions, it was then also having to see what his responses would be.

Well the unknown is almost worse, so it’s time to suck it up and have a serious conversation with him about where all of this is going. Ask him about if he’s keeping his wives, admit you know he hasn’t been sleeping with them, and see what he says. Worst case scenario he laughs in your face, sends you away, and never speaks to you again. Easy peasy. 

Just as you were about to work up to a full internal panic attack at the thought of discussing it with him, the doors to the kitchen swung open, and Ben appeared. To anyone else he’d probably look the same as usual, but as he headed in your direction you could see a slight flush to his cheeks and a couple pieces of hair that were suspiciously more disheveled than usual. 

“I’m so sorry for missing prep,” he said by way of greeting, looking a bit tense, as if unsure how you’d treat him after the previous evening.

“Don’t apologize for things if you don’t actually regret them,” you teased with a smirk and playful shake of your head, voice low enough so that only he could hear. 

He choked on a laugh, shoulders visibly relaxing when he realized that nothing had changed between the two of you, and there was zero need for formality or awkwardness. 

Nudging you with his shoulder, he said, “Thanks.” It was one simple word, but the slightly shaky and whispered tone let you know how much emotion was behind it. 

A surge of protectiveness surged in you. If it hadn’t been apparent before how willing you were to Ricardo death-stab anyone who tried to make fun of or harm Ben, it definitely was now. He was one of the sweetest humans you had ever met, and Simon better treat him right or else he’d be dealing with you and your pointy sidekick.

“So, uh, what kind of ‘assistance’ did he need your help with?” You tried for cool and casual, but couldn’t totally hide a teasing grin.

“Oh, nothing much. He just needed a bit of a hand with something, if you know what I mean.” 

At the look of surprise on your face, he started laughing loud enough to draw a few curious gazes from the others. “Besides that, he was letting me know he wouldn’t be around for a day or two.”

Brows furrowing, you asked, “Is Negan sending him back to an outpost?”

“No, he’s joining the supply run tomorrow.” 

At this, you jolted with a different kind of surprise. “They’re going on a run tomorrow?”

“Yea, but I think it was a spur of the moment decision. He didn’t give me any details, but I got the sense that it hadn’t been planned in advance.” 

You nodded, “That makes sense.” If Negan had planned this run before today, he’d have most likely told you...right? 

“I’m sure he’d have told you if he knew,” Ben said, as if he were reading your thoughts. 

“Yea, you’re probably right,” you said, deciding to make that the one thing you didn’t need to overanalyze to death. Instead, you felt a pang in knowing that he wouldn’t be here for a couple of days. You had really been enjoying all this one-on-one time with him, even though it was unrealistic to expect it to last forever. 

You wanted to ask Ben more questions about Simon, but didn’t want to risk any other staff overhearing. Vowing to sit him down outside the kitchen and get all the details in the near future, you refocused on serving dinner. Both brain and body were kept busy for the next few hours with making sure everyone got a serving of food, including the staff and yourself, and then helping with the clean-up. 

It wasn’t until you were back upstairs, lounging in your own bed, that you returned to the dilemma of what to do next. Originally, you had planned to start a conversation with Negan about the wife situation, but now you didn’t think the timing was right. If he was going on a run tomorrow then he needed a clear head and to focus on staying safe, not be preoccupied with your concerns and questions. Especially since you didn’t know if asking about the wives would lead to an argument, and you definitely didn’t want to be on bad terms when he left.

Seeing him tonight and trying to act like your brain hadn’t been a whirlwind of confusing thoughts all day sounded exhausting as hell. But not seeing him and then something potentially happening to him on the run…

You had stood from the bed and headed towards the door before the thought could even finish itself. Nope, there was no way you weren’t gonna go see him, even if it was just for a little bit before returning to your own room for the night. Your watch said it was almost 8:30, so you had a little time before he’d probably be winding down for the night, since chances were good they’d leave at the crack of dawn tomorrow. 

No community members paid you much attention when you headed to the stairwell, but when you got to the top and entered the hall leading to Negan’s room, your stomach dropped at the sight of a small group of Saviors walking down the hall in your direction.

You guessed that they were the group going on the run tomorrow, and had just come from a meeting in one of the unoccupied rooms on this floor. While you were unsure whether to turn around and hightail it back downstairs, your subconscious kept marching forward, no fucks to give that you could be accused of trespassing on a level where community members weren’t supposed to wander. 

When they got closer, you saw a couple of the Saviors give furrowed looks, and one even opened his mouth as if to reprimand you.

“Hey, you can’t just be-“

He was interrupted when another man clapped a large hand on his shoulder, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. Relief flooded through you at the sight of Simon.

“Now now, Ryan. Don’t you know that this little lady here gets a free pass? Negan’s orders, so don't forget.”

Face instantly becoming less hostile, the man gave a nod of understanding and a quick, “Apologies, Miss,” as they passed. Simon gave a signature wink and grin, and you forced a smile in return, brain still preoccupied with his words.

Had Negan really told them that you were to be allowed up here? If so, did that mean he didn’t care if they knew you and him were...whatever you were? Your subconscious was now skipping with glee rather than marching, and your brain gave an exasperated sigh and glared at you while tossing yet another question into the padlocked box.

Arriving at Negan’s door, you gave a soft knock and then opened it at his muffled, “Come in.” He was sitting at his desk with those nerdy, yet also sexy as hell, black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose as he shuffled through a stack of papers.

He looked up, and your heart rate accelerated when he smiled in welcome and said, “Hey, doll.”

“Hey, yourself,” you replied, smiling back. 

He pulled off the glasses (lord, why was that move so damn attractive?!) before rubbing at his tired eyes. Pushing the chair back a bit, he gave you a slow once over before clapping a hand to his knee expectantly.

Unlike when he had last made the gesture, the evening you ate lasagna together, this time you didn’t hesitate. Rounding the desk, you settled onto his warm lap and tilted your head back with a satisfied hum when he placed a possessive kiss on your lips. 

Glancing at the papers strewn across the polished wooden surface, you saw that they were full of lists and numbers, most likely of supplies. He nuzzled at the side of your neck, the friction from his beard causing a little shudder to go down your spine. Your brain rattled the padlocked box in annoyance, narrowly avoiding the tomato thrown at it by your subconscious. 

The reminder helped you refocus on how you had earlier decided not to have sex with him tonight. Not with all the questions and uncertainty floating around your head, and especially not when he needed to be well-rested and undistracted, in preparation for the run. But then the self-doubt creeped in and whispered, What if he decides to go find comfort elsewhere, if you won’t give it to him? He’s already had you and the chase is over, so what makes you think he’ll stay if you backtrack into more platonic interactions?

Your brain picked up the tomato and chucked it at the self-doubt, while the subconscious screamed in excitement at the prospect of a food fight. You tried to ignore all of them and refocus on Negan. Besides, while a risky move, you couldn’t help but wonder what his reaction would be when denied sex, something you bet he never had worried about with his wives.

“I heard you’re going on a run tomorrow,” you stated, trying not to let all of the conflicting emotions racing through you bleed into your tone.

Giving a sigh, he lifted his mouth from your neck, and you instantly wanted to take back your words at the loss. “Yea, gonna leave at 5 in the fucking morning to make a surprise trip to fucking Hilltop and see what’s up with that motherfucker, Gregory.”

Hearing the irritation in his voice, you asked “Has he been giving you problems?” 

“You could fucking say that. Didn’t fully meet his quota the last two times, so this is his third time’s the fucking charm chance to make up for it.”

Worry shot through you at this, remembering in the past when Negan had said Simon got a weird feeling about Gregory. You weren’t sure if the man was conniving or just plain dumb to be fucking with Negan’s supply rules like this, but it put you on edge. 

“Well, just be careful,” you couldn’t help but say, looking up into his handsome-as-hell face. 

He chuckled and bent down to kiss you again, murmuring, “Don’t fucking worry, doll. Nothing could keep me from coming back now.” 

You wanted so badly to give in, to respond to the kiss in full and let it escalate. His words warmed your chest at the thought of being his main reason for returning safely. You wanted to be his main everything, the way he was quickly becoming yours. You were falling for this man, but were scared to completely let go until a serious discussion was had...after he returned from the run. 

With one last lingering peck, you pulled back and reluctantly stood off his lap. “Well, it’s getting late so I should probably get back to my room.”

“What?” he asked, voice instantly stern and brows lowered in confusion. 

“You need sleep before the run, and I’ll just be a distraction. I could set an alarm and come see you off in the morning, if you want.” 

The hope that he’d be placated by what you thought was a logical argument was quickly dashed when he replied, “I think fucking not.”

“Negan, you need-”

He abruptly stood, and before you could even process what he was about to do, you were hoisted up and over his shoulder, head hanging down his back and ass in the air as he strode across the office and into his dark bedroom.

“What the hell!” you shrieked, lightly smacking his back with the palm of your hand. 

Kicking the bedroom door shut behind him, he took a few steps into the room before putting you down. The room was only lit by a few stray moonbeams, but you swore there was mirth dancing in the shadows of his amber gaze, which only made you more flustered. 

“I cannot believe you just did that!” you exclaimed, readjusting the bottom of your shirt where it had ridden up. 

“Well, maybe now you’ll fucking learn not to try and tell me what I need, doll.”

“Everyone needs sleep,” you fired back with a glare. You were just miffed enough at being manhandled to act petulant, even if the move had also been kinda hot, in a primitive sort of way. 

“What I need, is for you to get in the fucking bed,” he growled. 

A wave of heat poured over you at the words, and your brain stopped working in full sentences due to the amount of blood flow that had rapidly traveled south. 

“But...sleep,” you tried one more time, frantically trying remind your body of the ‘no sex tonight’ rule. 

Giving a ‘holy mother of god woman why are you like this’ level of sigh, he said, “Yes, doll, I’ll fucking sleep. But I can still do that with you here. So get in. The. Fucking. Bed.”

Realizing resistance was futile, you threw your hands in the air and muttered ‘fine’ before stripping off your shoes and jeans, and crawling between the covers. You pointedly left on your underwear and shirt, a nonverbal reminder that sleep was on the menu, and no more...no matter how much your body was screaming that it hated you for denying it. 

In unspoken agreement, Negan stripped down to just his boxer briefs, rather than his usual bed attire of naked, and crawled under the covers. Pulling you into his body, back to his chest, his head rested a few inches behind yours. He leaned in and kissed the back of your neck, and biting your lip was all that held back a whimper. 

“You better fully wake me up in the morning, so I can say goodbye,” you mumbled, the decadently soft mattress and pillow quickly putting you into a drowsy haze.

The hand he had rested lightly on your hip gave an affectionate squeeze, and he whispered, “I will. Now stop talking, doll. I need sleep, remember.”

Ignoring the sarcasm in his tone, you snuggled back tighter against him, and sighed in contentment. “Good night.”

His voice lost all teasing and became lower and softer when he replied, “Night, doll.” 

Smiling, your muscles relaxed into the mattress. It wasn’t until you were cocooned back in this glorious bed with him that it became apparent just how exhausted you were. The mental gymnastics your brain had gone through today had thoroughly worn you out. However, a part of that persistent self-doubt had now broken off and shriveled up to dust when it saw that Negan was perfectly willing to have you in his bed like this, with no sexual expectations. If you could stay awake long enough to fully think it through, you’d be shocked as hell that he hadn’t pushed. The fact that he hadn’t even brought up sex, that he still wanted you here with him, even just to do this…

Your last coherent thought was maybe he’s falling for you too, and then sleep took over.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[makeste]

some rambly Wednesday night thoughts on Kacchan’s hero name

so out of acknowledgement of the fact that the vast majority of fandom has basically accepted Dynamight as canon, I have been doing some analyzing of my own internal fandom biases these past few days, trying to identify just what it is that’s still making me have such a hard time accepting this name reveal. and I think I’ve pinpointed that now. and so now that I have, I would like to partially renege on my previous post, because that was four whole days ago, and we have to grow and change with the times or else they will a-change without us.

anyway, so basically what it boils down to is that for me, it’s not enough for his name to just be an All Might tribute. for me, the reveal of oh, he named himself after All Might is just not enough on its own to justify having a 200-chapter arc devoted to this plot. it’s not a satisfying resolution. because the thing is, we already knew that. and so that’s basically the thought that’s been running through my head these past few days whenever I see posts analyzing the new name. okay, but we already knew that, though.

I’m trying to figure out how best to describe this, but basically it’s like this constant feeling of waiting for someone to finally finish the rest of their sentence. like, yeah, I get that, I already heard that part. but where’s the rest of it? because this doesn’t tell us anything new, is the thing. this is something we’ve known about Bakugou since day one. “I’ll even surpass All Might and become the best hero out there.”  yes, he looks up to All Might, that’s fine and that’s great, but we knew that.

here’s what it is for me. I need the name reveal to answer this specific question: what makes the Kacchan from chapter 252 different from the Kacchan all the way back in chapter 45? what is it that’s changed? what is different about him now? different enough that it took a journey of more than 200 chapters for him to finally settle on this choice?

and in my view, the answer to this question is very clearly not All Might, but Deku.

Deku is what has changed for him. his relationship with Deku. his restored trust in Deku. his desire to make amends to Deku. that’s the difference. this is what chapter 252 Kacchan has that chapter 45 Kacchan did not have. this is the only answer that to me makes any kind of narrative sense. when he makes the decision in chapter 252, when he finally settles on a name, his mind is clearly fixated on thoughts of atonement. and so his chosen name, in the end, has to relate back to Deku in some way in order for it to connect. that link has to be there somehow. that’s the only way that his name ties in with all of his character growth. that’s the only possible way this is going to feel right to me.

so yeah, if it turns out that the origins of the name “Dynamight” begin and end with Katsuki being a colossal fanboy nerd, I will be disappointed, ngl. not because I don’t think his admiration for All Might is important, because it is. but I will be disappointed because “I want to be like All Might” is his starting line, not his finish line. I’ll be disappointed because he’s had so much character growth since the story began that for him to choose a name that’s seemingly unrelated to all of that would seriously feel like a letdown.

having said that, there is one popular theory which, if true, would check off that box of “the name has to be connected to Deku” which is apparently such a deal-breaker to me! and that is the “Dynamight is a name that Deku originally suggested for him when they were kids” theory (as seen here for example). which I guess technically falls less under the category of “theory” and more under “speculation”, but still. the thing is, it’s all based on reasoning rather than evidence, but I think said reasoning is pretty sound. it’s basically that same rationale of “this doesn’t make narrative sense if there is no connection to Deku; so therefore, if this is his chosen name, it means that it must relate back to Deku in some way.” which to me is reasonable. and so if it does turn out to be true, I’m thinking I can get on board with that.

the 293 reveal scene is still pretty out of left field to me, ngl! but it’s worth noting that this is absolutely not the final version of his name, because as of right now the full name is technically GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD DYNAMIGHT. the “GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GOD” part isn’t just a title or preamble (all of those end with “hero”, so if that were the case it would have been “Explosion Murder God Hero: Dynamight”); it’s literally part of the name. I do appreciate that (as others have pointed out) he has apparently upgraded himself from Lord Explosion Murder to God Explosion Murder. but anyway, so it does mean he’ll need to change it at least one more time, though. which means we’ll get another “reveal” scene, and Horikoshi can pour all of the emotional weight and resonance into this second one, and if he does it right I don’t doubt he will sell me on it fully and completely.

and actually, if he really wants to go for the jugular, there is one long-awaited bonus move he can pull that will make it so that I basically never question anything he does ever again lol. and that is... well okay, let me backtrack. so first of all, maybe we get a scene where class 1-A is gathered at the hospital, or back in the dorms after everything has wrapped up, just convalescing and taking comfort in each others’ presence to distract them from thinking about how much therapy they’re all going to need now. and so they’re all there talking, and somehow word of Kacchan’s new hero name gets out, and while everyone else in the class is collapsed on the floor in tears, Kacchan and Deku maybe make some Significant Eye Contact for a bit and then Deku eventually says he likes it, but maybe shorten it down to just “Dynamight” though. and Kacchan is all “stfu nerd if I want your opinion I’ll ask for it” but of course he does go on to change it though, but not because of Deku’s suggestion!! just so we’re clear!! it’s just cuz he felt like it!! shut up!!

anyway. and just to be clear this last part is just me being WILDLY indulgent really, but I think it would be a real Power Move on Horikoshi’s part if afterwards, we cut to Deku heading back to his dorm room and thoughtfully lying back on his bed to reminisce, leading us into the flashback (by which I mean THE flashback, where Horikoshi shows that the name was actually his idea). and then, once we emerge back out of the flashback and into the room again, we see the familiar All Might posters on the wall and assume that we’re back in the present with Deku. but then we see the person that’s actually lying on the bed and it’s like WAIT A DARN SECOND, and that’s when Horikoshi reveals that we have actually transitioned to Kacchan’s room instead. BOOM. HOW YA LIKE THAT. TWO MYSTERIES SOLVED FOR THE PRICE OF ONE. TWIN FLASHBACKS, TWIN NERDY BEDROOMS. ALL THE PARALLELS YOU COULD EVER POSSIBLY WANT. MIRROR IMAGES, BABY. IT’S SPIDER-MAN POINTING MEMES ALL THE WAY DOWN.

lol but so anyways. tl;dr I’m coming around on this a bit. there are still certain things about “Dynamight” that will still feel slightly off to me even if the Deku Invented It theory does come to pass, mind. the main one being that it doesn’t really fit in with the theming of Deku and Shouto’s hero names, which I think are so simple -- basically just their own names -- for a reason. that reason being that it symbolically sets them apart from the flashy, superficial hero society of the past, and signals that this new generation will be different from that. and I won’t lie, I’ve always liked that about their names, and so if Kacchan’s doesn’t also fit in with this theme, it’s always going to look just slightly out of place to me. but unlike the Deku thing, that one’s not a personal deal-breaker, and I can learn to live with it.

so I guess we’ll see how it goes! right now it’s still about 50/50 for me; I can only talk myself into it so much until we see more of how this develops. it’s been long enough since the chapter release that I’ve had just enough time to completely second-guess myself on everything I ever thought I knew, but then two seconds later I’ll be like “nah this whole thing is completely crazy lol it was literally just a joke panel” and the whole process begins itself anew lol. all I know for sure is that I seriously cannot wait for the aftermath of this arc. it’s gonna be lit you guys. it is going to be so stupidly, stupidly good.

[crebby]

normalcy

pairing: adam the depraved/demise characters: adam the depraved / adam vahlryse demise / lawrencij vasilevskaya word count: 1497 warnings: mentions/vague descriptions of murder, they almost fuck so that's fun (keyword, almost) opening: late in the night, in awaiting of lawrencij to finally accompany him, adam realises he has a few things on his mind regarding this relationship. note: I am actively choosing not to use capital letters, lmk if it's greatly bothersome and I can probably add a version with capitalisation also this is kind of sort of bittersweet please know that

it was late. adam’s cold, grey eyes were growing heavy as he stared at the ceiling above him, counting to sixty to mark each minute. fifty-three, fifty-four, fifty-five...

he didn’t let lawrencij know, but really, adam didn’t really have any actual pastimes whenever he wasn’t with the other. he didn’t see any need for it, after all. it didn’t make them feel anything. there was no satisfaction in ripping open a cacodemon in doom. he didn’t particularly feel anything if he tried drawing. maybe they’d chuckle a little if he watched Gordon Ramsay, but deep down they knew nothing could ever replicate the morbid rush of dragging a blade through bleeding flesh, or the delightfully agonising screams such harm produced.

outside of the highs produced by bloodshed and cocaine, there was nothing but lingering numbness. as a result, the most interesting way to waste away his time was to basically watch paint dry.

he couldn’t do that when lawrencij was around, though. they thought being forced to invest any time on things outside of crime would gravely irritate them, yet they found themselves... interested in partaking in activities? even if it was something stupidly nerdy like chess. mind you, adam still couldn’t understand why lawrencij liked it so much, but adam found himself enjoying it because he was doing it with her. with someone they lo-

nah. let’s not get ahead of ourselves. that’s gross.

upon realising he was about to think the world’s cheesiest thought just a few moments ago, the slav shook his head, as if he were trying to rattle the thought out of his mind, similar to how one would try to violently shake the coins out of a piggy bank. some thoughts just weren't meant to be given the time of day.

it’s not like they could keep thinking, since the sound of the door opening made adam snap out of their thoughts.

“are you gonna keep laying around like a lazy fuck?”

typical. adam sighed at the other’s statement, but a smile clearly graced his features. not that half-assed smirk he usually was seen sporting on his face when engaging in banter. just a slight smile. it would’ve almost been dreamy if they didn’t respond by saying “I wouldn’t be laying here if you didn’t go perform a wholeass ritual in the bathroom.”

“I’ll gut you like a trout and use you for an actual ritual, don’t fucking test me.” a sharp threat spoken by adam’s... what was he to adam anyways?

writing her off as a mere hookup would objectively be incorrect. he wasn’t really a side hoe (as they liked to say) either, since, well, he hadn’t really been seeing anyone else since getting this thing going with lawrencij. did that make him adam’s main hoe? that didn’t quite feel like the right thing to call it either, since if anything, adam sometimes felt like they was the hoe in this peculiar… relationship?

he wasn't very sure why he was thinking about this at all, because he was almost certain that lawrencij generally didn't care. it's not like she cared a lot about anything at all, really, just her goal of becoming god.

"lost in thought?" "nah." the taller male sat upright while responding. "thank goodness,” lawrencij hummed. “I was worried you almost developed the capacity to think." "I love you too, I guess." the lavender-eyed slav(?) scoffed at those words.

"sure."

regardless, lawrencij approached adam, his expression giving off an air of mild amusement, as it always did. the way she moved was very deliberate. then again, everything lawrencij did was with some kind of intention. that didn’t nullify the effect it had on adam, though. the light sway of the other’s hips, the intentionally slower-paced steps, the slight twitch in her fingers indicating that she was ready to pretty much lunge at the other. in an almost tantalisingly slow manner, lawrencij sat himself down on the bed, shifting the way he sat and almost half-crawling towards adam under the taller of the two was within his reach.

one hand on the side of his neck, the other tracing across adam's cheekbone using their thumb. two faces close to one another. lips fervently pressing against each other. clothes mindlessly disposed of on the floor, skin on skin creating hot friction.

it was a wonderful night to get intimate.

adam, however, found himself unable to commit this time, abruptly pulling away in the middle of a heated kiss and almost freezing as if his nervous system suddenly failed him.

lawrencij furrowed his brows, and adam wanted to tell the other that they were equally confused, that they too had no idea why they suddenly stopped, why their body froze. instead, he said nothing, unintentionally leaving a tense kind of silence to hang in the air before finally coming to his senses. what the fuck is wrong with him?

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. even when looking straight up at his lover, it was difficult to determine what was going on in the other’s head. lawrencij’s expression softened slightly before she got off of adam, lying on his side, lavender eyes locked on the taller person’s face.

they expected lawrencij to mock them, but instead he said “don’t be.” huh. adam felt his head get pulled towards the brunette’s chest while lawrencij’s slender fingers brushed through adam’s unkempt hair. “you’ve been off since I got here,” lawrencij hummed. “what’s been on your mind?”

lawrencij never asked how he felt. he himself knew how odd this would be in adam’s eyes. the two usually didn’t talk much after sex. they didn’t go on cute little dates. they didn’t chat away and laugh about trivial things. they didn’t seek any sense of normalcy within their relationship and weren’t planning to in the first place.

if you were to ask lawrencij why she was asking such a question she probably wouldn’t be able to answer with a proper reason. he didn’t care about how people felt. however, he did care about the fact that adam had been slightly off all evening, and he knew it was because adam was lingering on something. fuck, so maybe she cared about adam’s feelings of all people, and maybe she cared about making sure adam didn’t go seeking affection and attention from other people. whatever. she didn’t care that much.

there was nothing but silence. it wasn’t because adam was ignoring the question or refusing to answer it, but moreso that he had no idea how to answer the question. what would lawrencij think of them if they said something dumb like “what are we?” or “I care about what we have”?

the taller of the two averted his eyes, even if the position he was in didn’t allow for eye contact, and the belarusian pulled away a little, his eyes intently staring into adam’s. there was something so striking about them, something piercing and intense, yet oddly serene.

“hey, adam.” lawrencij murmured. “talk to me,” she added, her hand still idly playing with the other’s hair.

his soft-spoken words carried a sort of forcefulness that was unique to him. adam knew the other didn’t take no for an answer and would get things her way regardless, and as a result, he simply couldn’t not say anything. especially not when the other stared at him with that look in his eyes…

“are you ever gonna leave me?” the fact that adam asked this as an answer to lawrencij’s question didn’t initially register to them either. they just… blurted it out. when realising he actually said this and didn’t just think it, he froze, and lawrencij seemed equally stunned by this sudden response since these words made her initially moving hand freeze.

while her face remained seemingly unperturbed, it was still clear to the other that she was busy scanning the outcomes of each possible answer and determining what would be the right thing to say. he was always one to strive for the outcome that benefitted himself the most, after all.

after that split second of reflection, lawrencij realised that there was no 'correct' answer to this question.

“I would never,” he spoke.

that was a lie. lawrencij knew fully well that if the other ever became an inconvenience to her, she’d ditch him, or even kill him, and adam knew that she was lying as well.

adam didn’t care enough to comment on it, though. it was nice, lying close to each other like this. the both of them could briefly pretend that they were a normal couple who went on regular dates, who kissed each other goodnight, a couple that’d say “I miss you” over the phone before hanging up.

they could just pretend this would last while the chance presents itself. act like what they have could work out.

“I love you,” adam mumbled. “I love you too,” was what was said in return.

it’s okay to say now. after all, the both of them are just ‘pretending’.

Adam the Depraved belongs to @sanityisforlosers Demise belongs to me (@crebby)

[love-fireflysong]

Oh my god, I'm so sorry that this one took so long holy shit. I have no excuses, other than the fact that I'm a terrible person who can't be trusted with deadlines it seems. But it is done! Yay! So, as successfully chosen by Miss '@clumsybookworm18' Mel, here's my entry for hurt/comfort (finally). This is actually the beginning part of a sole survivor chris/ash au I've been imagining for over a year now, and will very likely be the only part of that au I will ever share. That au is for me. And me alone, sorry lol.

Can't Undo the Scars can be read over on AO3 of course (and I would recommend it if only for the snazzy looking texting lol) but it is also under the link as usual.

Can't Undo the Scars

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort Fandom: Until Dawn Characters: Ashley Brown, Chris Hartley Words: 9749 Rating: Teen (mentions of past trauma, unhealthy coping mechanisms, separation anxiety, nightmares that involve death) Author's Notes: Will I ever be happy with this fic? No but I'm as content with what I got as I ever will be. What Chris and Ash are doing to try and get back to 'normal' is so stupidly not healthy for either of them, but they are young kids that just want to try and move on with their lives. So be nice to them (and me obviously lol).

"I think we should take a break."

Sitting across from Ashley at the table in the quiet cafe where they had gotten coffee together, Chris fumbled with the sugar cube he had grabbed. It bounced off the small table and tumbled to the floor, not that he was paying any attention to it anymore. Not when it felt like all his blood had frozen in his veins. Still, hoping and praying that he was misunderstanding what Ashley was trying to get at, he let out a forced little laugh. "...like a KitKat? Oh man, when was the last time I had one of those? Must have been ages ago, you're totally right we should go and grab a bar or two after this. A little snack and treat we both totally deserve and I'll break us off a piece of that—"

Chris let everything else he was about to say trail off when Ashley pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and shook her head fiercely as she refused to look at him. The loose sleeves of the sweater she was wearing were pulled far down enough that only the tips of her fingers were poking out, and those tightened around the mug of coffee she was holding onto. "No, I-I mean, I think we need to take a break from each other. At least for a little bit."

Forget his blood freezing, Chris felt everything around him freeze. His breath froze in his lungs, his heart froze in his chest, and time seemed to freeze around him. "Ash, are-are you," Chris swallowed roughly as he tried to keep himself together, "are you breaking up with me?"

Immediately Ashley's eyes snapped up to meet his, and they were wide with the same fear that Chris was pretty sure had replaced all the blood in his body. "No! No, that's-that's not what I'm doing! That's not what I want at all!" Her hands left the mug she had been gripping on the table and reached out to take Chris's, but hesitated and pulled back at the last second. "Why? Do you want to...?"

Chris closed the distance between their hands and grabbed hers in his, but was careful not to touch her wrists. He was more relieved than he had imagined it was possible to feel (and he had felt some pretty intense feelings of relief in the last half a year) when she responded by immediately turning her hands over so she could curl her fingers into his. "I don't! I can't think of a single thing in the world I want to do less than that."

The jerky nod that Ashley gave in agreement should have left him feeling better, but it didn't. "Good. So we're not br— not gonna do that then."

"Cool. Cool cool cool. Glad we're in agreement. But then, what did you mean by that, Ash? That we should..." Chris couldn't even bring himself to say the words, instead letting them die in his throat when Ashley slowly withdrew her hands from his and placed them back around her quickly cooling mug.

"It's just, this isn't healthy Chris. This can't be healthy for either of us."

"Healthy? What isn't healthy? This much coffee? The amount of sugar I put in my cup every morning? Is the amount of sugar I use turning you off Ash? Cause I don't think I can fix that sorry."

She didn't smile at that, not even a hint. No faint tugging at the corners of her mouth, no sigh of exasperation, nothing. And it was then that he knew that whatever this was all about, she was as serious as he'd ever seen her, and that terrified him.

"This, Chris. None of this. The fact that neither of us can sleep alone. That I'm terrified that the moment you leave my sight I'll never see you again. I hate that it feels like neither of us can go out in public unless we're both there."

"Oh. That. Yeah, I-I can see how that might be a problem. But Ash, it wasn't—it's not as if it's our fault. We're just trying to heal, I mean that's what all the doctors keep telling us at least. And if this is what it takes, then what's so wrong about that?"

Ashley looked up at him again, and while he wasn't shocked at the dark circles around her eyes (they were identical to the ones around his after all), the tears that had started to build up in the corners of them had him reaching over the table so he could take her face into his hands. Her hands cover his a second later, but not pull them away like he feared, instead she curls her fingers into the palms of his hands so she can hold him there. The two of them lean over the table to meet in the middle, likely looking like a romantic embrace shared by lovers in the corner to anyone looking on, but this is anything but. "But it's been months Chris," she starts and he wipes away the first tear that threatens to fall before it ever gets the chance to, "since, since..."

Since Blackwood, he finishes for her in his head, it's been months since Blackwood and it still feels like we're no better than when we first came down. And it has been, Blackwood had been nearly six months ago now and the two of them still jumped and grabbed for each other at what seemed like every little thing. A loud bang, even from something as small and normal as a car backfiring down the street, always sent Chris back into that room in the basement, watching as Mike aimed that gun at Emily. The sound of a glass cup shattering as it hit the floor would have Ashley locking up in fear, her grip on Chris's hand tightening to a point far beyond pain.

That first week of July had been terrible for them both. The smart thing to do would have been to get as far out of town as possible, but that would have left them basically stranded in the wilderness; surrounded by trees on all sides as they jumped at every little sound and animal call, wondering if it was yet another one of those creatures from the mountain trying to finish them off. Instead they had elected to stay home, cowering together in Chris's basement as the fireworks going off with loud pops and bangs from nearly every house in the area had managed to cut through their earplugs and send them both into a tailspin. Remembering every bullet that Chris had shot into the Wendigo that had chased him from the shed, none doing any damage at all except to push it back further and further from him. Remembering the sound as the lodge exploded into a ball of fire, leaving them to sit cold and alone in the snow as their ears continued to ring and ring. The coolness of the basement had done little against the summer heat either, reminding them too much of the heat from the burning lodge that had threatened to cook them both from the inside out.

July had almost been worse than February, and nothing would ever top those two days in February.

He's not worried about the scene the two of them are making in the cafe though. The table they had chosen—had been using since they discovered this beautifully quiet and peaceful cafe back when they had both finally worked up the nerve to leave their houses back in May—was in a secluded corner with no windows. It was a defensible position (or at least as defensible as a table in a public cafe could be) and as long as they stayed quiet then no one would pay any attention to them. Not when the other patrons were too busy chatting with their friends or typing away on a computer. And the employees? They had more to worry about then two nerdy regulars who for all appearances looked like they were having a romantic and private conversation.

"Can you at least just tell me why?" Chris whispers, his words choked as he continues to wipe away her tears. "Why now? What happened to make you think that we need a—" his m0uth moves but nothing comes out until he finally manages to force the word past the blockade in his throat "—a break."

Ashley leans into one of his palms and smiles at him sadly. "I know we both decided that we were gonna try and start school again in the winter semester, and that our admissions had already been accepted, so I was looking at dorm availabilities when you had fallen asleep last week. They only have a few single dorms and those are available only for married students. Which is fine, it's way too small to room two people at once for durations longer than a weekend. But it also turns out that there is no option for co-ed dorms, the school doesn't allow them. No exceptions."

"What? But, surely they must—"

She shakes her head. "No exceptions, they were very clear on that. I don't know how many times me or my mom or any of the doctors emailed them to try and explain the circumstances, but the response back was always the same. They 'feel sorry and understand how difficult this must be for us' but no exceptions means no exceptions. We either agree to separate dorms with roommates of the same gender or we have to find another set of lodgings."

"But that's...that's bullshit! So the thought of a boy and girl sharing a room apparently goes so far against their-their—what, good Christian values?—that giving our poor roommates nightmares while we scream ourselves to sleep is an acceptable alternative?!"

Ashley turns her head so she can leave a chaste kiss in the center of Chris's palm in an effort to calm him down, and decides to just stay and murmur her next words there. "I hate it too, but what other alternative is there? You know we can't get a place together, there's no possible way we could afford the rent for one."

"We can...we can..." Chris tries to find something, anything, he can say to make this not happen. "I can find a job, work and go to school or—"

"And we arrive back to the same problem, Chris. If we can't survive a separation at school, how are we supposed to do it when we're both out working as well, just so we can stay together. I don't want to do this anymore then you do Chris; I really really don't. You have no idea how much I don't want to do this, but we have to get used to not being able to see each other all the time. And I would rather do it on our terms then because the school or our roommates decided we can't."

Ashley's right, of course Ashley's right. It's Ashley Brown after all, she's always right, but he doesn't want her to be. Not about this. "Okay," he agrees instead, even as it feels like saying the word is stealing something away that he can't quite name. He hides this by lowering her head so he can place his lips on her forehead and say the words there instead. "Okay. Just-just tell me how long."

"A week." Chris feels something in his stomach turn into stone and sink to the bottom of his gut. He had been hoping for something like a day or two, not a full week. He isn't sure he can survive seven days without seeing her. "I-I thought long and hard about it, but a week. We're gonna have periods anyways where we won't be able to see each other because of exams or projects, so if we can manage a whole week then we can do those no problem."

"Are you sure that maybe we shouldn't, I don’t know, just build up to that? A day here, two days there, just so we can get used to it?"

Ashley shakes her head firmly enough that it jostles Chris's hands right off of her face, but keeps her hands in his anyways. "No. I want to get this over with. Prove to everyone, to ourselves, that we can do something as simple as this. I mean, we used to go periods all the time when we didn't see each other for ages, so what's so different about this?"

"Everything", Chris wants to say, "Everything's different now. It changed the moment we left that mountain behind." But he doesn't. He doesn't because he wants her to be right, that this is just a minor hiccup and if they can overcome this, then they can overcome anything. So with one last squeeze of her hands and a pained smile, he lets go and takes a sip of his coffee and grimaces at the taste. It's cold now, had probably gone cold a long time ago and he can tell from the shared frown on Ashley's face that hers has gone cold too.

With no reason for either of them to stay here now, they had only brought enough money for a single coffee each, it's pretty clear that their little coffee date is over. Neither of them say a word as they clean up their table and leave the cafe, their fingers intertwined as they usually are nowadays, but holding on tighter than usual. They separate only so they can get into Chris's truck, but the moment they settle into their seats, their hands find each other once again. And that's how Chris drives Ashley back to her mother's, hands gripping so tightly that they're fingers have turned white and not saying a single word the entire drive back. They never mentioned it, but neither of them have to. The moment they arrive at her place, then this is it. This will be the last time they're gonna see each other for an entire week, and the moment one of them speaks then any and all willpower they have to pull this off is going to be gone and they'll be back at where they started. They need to do this, even if neither of them want to.

It isn't until Chris pulls up in front and watches her let go of his hand to take off her seatbelt that it actually hits him. For the first time in six months, he's not going to be following her in. That he's going to continue the drive back to his own house alone. The realization shudders through him and he quickly finds himself fumbling at his own seatbelt clasp, and the moment he's free he's surging across the divide between them and taking Ashley's face in his hands as he kisses her like he's never going to be able to again. She doesn't hesitate to return the embrace either, throwing her arms around him and gripping onto him as though she never wants to let him go.

They spend what is probably far too long delaying the separation, but inevitably they do separate. And when they look at each other it's with tears in their eyes and their foreheads pressed so firmly together it's almost like they're trying to become one person.

"Just seven days, right? And that's it, we'll never have to do this again? You promise?"

Ashley doesn't say anything, she just nods and leans in for one last kiss, as though trying to memorize it and him for the coming week. And when she does pull away to leave, it's with her arms slowly untwining themselves from around Chris's neck, and then letting her fingers trail lightly over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his hands. Though she is stopped when Chris curls his fingers so that they catch on his, and doesn’t fight it as she watches wordlessly as he lifts them in front of his face and carefully lets the loose sleeves of her sweater drop so he can see the faint scars on her wrist that were left when the rope burns had healed. And as always, he makes no comment as softly places a kiss into the center of each wrist, followed by the palm, and then the tip of each finger, finally closing his eyes as he presses the back of her knuckles to his lips and holding her hands there. Just to remind himself that she was still here, that she hadn't died on Blackwood Mountain with all the rest.

He drops her hands when she pulls them back, but doesn't open his eyes when he feels her shaky fingers carefully remove his glasses and place them on the dashboard before returning her hands to his face in order to complete their little ritual. Gently, she traces the contours of his face with the pads of her thumbs, brushing them over his eyes, his nose, his lips, and following each with a soft kiss to the body part in question. Finishing as she always does by placing her lips in a closed mouth kiss to the area where his jaw and neck meet, and lingering just long enough so she can feel his pulse thrum beneath his skin. The minor burn from where he had once held the gun to his jaw had faded a long time ago, but he doesn't think that either will ever forget exactly where it used to be. And when she leans back, the usual expressions of relief and awe are hidden so far underneath the absolute heartbreak that they may as well not even exist. "I—" he starts, but stops just as quickly. It's far too overdue, but the timing isn't right. "I guess I'll see you next week then."

Ashley looks like she has something she wants to say, but instead reaches out to put Chris's glasses back on his face with shaking hands and as she opens the passenger door and gets out of the vehicle, she gives a weak smile. "Yeah, I...I'll see you then."

Chris just watches as she walks up to the building, gripping onto the steering wheel as hard as possible in an effort to hold himself back from trying to follow her into the building like every fibre of his being is screaming at him to do. And after sharing one last shaky and teary eyed smile from the top of the steps, Ashley unlocks the door and enters, leaving his sight for what feels like both the first time in forever, and the final time he'll ever get to see her.

He rushes the rest of the way home, and the moment he gets back he just about runs to his bedroom and hides under the covers of his bed, ignoring both the surprised greeting his mother sends his way and the inquiry about where Ashley is. He just wants to sleep.

The week will be over quicker that way.

***

By the end of the first day Ashley is ready to scream. Not because she misses Chris horribly (she does), or because waking up without Chris at her side had sent her into near hysterics (it did). She had expected these things after all, they were all things that she had to get used to again, he wasn't always going to be there with her after all. It still hurt—good god did it hurt—but all in all, it wasn't going terribly for the first day. She'd had no nightmares thankfully, and had spent most of the day reading, with some minor tidying up in her room and helping her mother around the house.

Oh no, the reason she was about to scream was her mother in question. Who after finding out why exactly Chris hadn't come home with her yesterday, and never made an appearance later on in the evening just before bed, had been frantic. Saundra wasn't angry, she didn't scream or yell or try to do anything that might set her daughter off, but she was being horribly insistent that maybe Ashely and Chris should have thought this through more. Asking why Ashley had never brought this up to her, and if she even mentioned that they were doing this to their doctors. She hadn't of course, because Ashley was fully aware that they would have done almost everything in their power to try and talk them out of it, telling them that the two of them weren't ready for separation of his magnitude yet. And of course neither of them were ready for this—they likely never would be—but it needed to be done if her and Chris had any hope of even trying to return to a normal lifestyle in time for them to return to college in January.

And, well, she was terrified about what would happen to them if they didn't. Sure it was deemed 'healthy' for now, as they tried and struggled to recover from what everyone around them said was a horribly traumatic series of events. But what about when it wasn't simply seen as healthy and therapeutic, but harmful and co-dependant? Ashley loved Chris, even if neither of them had said the words yet she felt it in her entire being everytime she looked at him, and the idea that one day they might grow to hate or resent each other for being unable to let go was too much. And so the completely necessary trial separation came into being. If they could prove that they could successfully be apart for something as short as a week, then this wasn't codependency in the making, it was healing pure and simple.

Now she just had to convince herself of that.

***

By early morning of the second day, Chris had finally admitted to himself what he had figured out a few short hours into his self-exiled bedrest: sleeping the week away when he had been finding it hard to sleep in general for months now was quite frankly going to be impossible. And so he had with great reluctance rolled himself out of his far too empty bed and into the shower, passing his own mother talking in hushed voices on the phone. Voices that quickly stopped the moment Lilith realized that her son was finally up and moving again, and then immediately confronting him afterwards and pleading that he tell her that nothing bad had happened between him and Ash. He weakly assures that everything's fine between them (it's not, everything is not fine, it won't be fine until she's by his side again), and that he'll talk to her after. The only thing he wants right now is a hot shower. Lilith lets him go reluctantly, but Chris is also very aware that the moment he steps foot into the bathroom, that she's going to be back on the phone with Saundra speaking in hushed and worried whispers.

The rest of the morning passes by in a haze of motherly questions—mixed with the occasional fatherly one every now and again just for spice—and a large breakfast that tastes and feels like ash in his mouth, and it bleeds into the afternoon, and then into the evening. Which finds Chris both bored out of his mind and desperate for a distraction as he digs through a pile of video games to try and find something to play. But everything he finds was either given to him by Ash, or ones the two of them had played together (if not both), so he abandons his search and instead finds himself out in the garage digging through dusty and broken down boxes until he finds the old playstation and games that his parents had gotten for him before he had ever met Ashley or...or...

Well, the point was he had a game now that carried no memories of anyone or anything except being six and terrible at video games. It does nothing to wipe away the loneliness and despair that covers him like a heavy blanket, but it's a start. An extremely stalled start to a race he wants nothing to do with, but a start nonetheless.

***

On day three, Ashley is starting to think that maybe her mom had been right and that this was such a stupid idea. Last night was especially bad. No matter how many blankets she had piled on her bed, no matter how many childhood stuffed animals she had shoved back on to fill up the empty space, none of it had helped. She had never felt so cold in her life and all the open space on the bed had made her feel like she was going to be swallowed up into the emptiness. In desperation she had started ripping the drawers from her dresser and throwing clothes from her closet, frantically holding back burning tears of frustration and the scream building up in her throat.

And then she found it. One of Chris's sweaters shoved half-hazardly away into a dark corner of her room under the bed, and had been forgotten about by the both of them until now. The immediacy with which she had fumbled to grab the thing and throw it on probably would have frightened her any other day, but with the tears finally flowing hot and heavy down her cheeks as she buried her face into the dark fibres, all she could feel was bone-crushing relief settling over her. Her room a mess she could deal with in the morning, Ashley had crawled into bed hugging herself and the sweater as close as she physically was able. She wasn't cold anymore, and the bed felt less empty too.

As long as she had a reminder that Chris was still alive, that she could still smell him even on this dusty and long-forgotten piece of clothing, then even if he wasn't physically here with her she could manage. And she would manage, she would. They were already halfway through the week after all, and she would prove to everyone—to herself—that they (she) could do this.

Ashley wears the sweater all the rest of the day once she wakes up.

***

In true Chris Hartley fashion, day four finds himself absolutely glued to the screen of his phone. Shortly after forcing down a small breakfast in an attempt to alleviate his worried parents' concern, he had spent what was probably a far too long amount of time in his text messages just staring at Ash's name. His thumbs hovering nervously over the keyboard as he fought with himself over and over again, debating if texting Ashley would be okay. Yes, the two of them had agreed that this 'break' (he hates the word, hates it hates it hates it with every fibre of his being) was needed if they wanted to try and get themselves ready for the separation that college life would inevitably bring, but that was to try and prepare themselves for not being able to see each other for long periods of time. They wouldn't be able to see each other during classes or during periods of intense studying and working on projects, but they would still be able to talk. Hell, his entire first year of college while she was still in high school had been just that. They hadn't been able to hang out in weeks, but they had still texted all the time.

So biting the bullet, Chris had gone ahead and texted Ash a quick and easy 'hey'. No 'miss you', no 'this was a terrible idea', no ' i wish you were here right now'. Just a simple 'hey' and then he stared at his phone, face pale and hands shaking as he waited to see what she would do. He didn't care if she would just send back a scathing reply about how he was breaking the rules by doing this, he just needed her to respond and reassure him that she was alright. That she was still alive and his insecurities were getting the best of him.

The phone rumbling softly in his hand was a godsend, and so too was the affirmative 'hi :)' that she had responded with. After that, it was as though the floodgates had opened. The two of them texted each other back and forth the entire rest of the day, her telling him about the books she had been reading as he told her about his adventures through late 90's and early 2000's gaming. They told each other what they had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They talked about everything and nothing and it was so blissfully normal that Chris wondered why on earth it had taken him this long to text her in the first place. He thinks that he was so used to just having her there with him all the time, that the idea that they could still text hadn't even crossed his mind.

There are things he doesn't tell her of course. That the idea of falling asleep without knowing she's next to him and safe is so ludicrous that he had stopped trying, only sleeping in small, unintended fits that leave him feeling even worse than before. That despite at least continuing to eat, the food tastes like nothing and he can only manage a few bites before excusing himself. And what little he does eat almost always manages to come back up during the night, though thankfully when his parents are both sleeping (he doesn't want them to worry more than they already are). Chris doesn't want to worry Ashley, not when it seems like she's managing this whole seven-day long affair better than he is so far. If she can do this, then so can he.

So no matter how many times his thumb hovers over the call icon in the corner, he does not press it. Texting will have to be enough, he knows that the moment he hears her voice then every single shred of resolution he has built up will crumble in seconds and he'll be driving as fast as he can so he can see her again. And they're already four days deep into their seven days, the last thing he wants is for Ashley to decide that they need to start all this over from the top again.

***

Ashley is comfortable in her bed, more comfortable than she's ever felt in her life honestly. Chris's arm is draped heavily over her waist, and his breath is warm on the back of her neck as he peacefully naps the afternoon away. His body is solid against her back and she feels so, so safe and so, so loved as she continues to read her book, a favourite of hers that she had read cover to cover a million times but always felt like coming home in its warm familiarity. Contentedly, she flips a page and snuggles back further into Chris's body and she feels something warm and wet drip onto her neck.

"Chriiiiiiis," she groans, but not without an edge of laughter, "wake up. You're drooling on me, you dip." He doesn't move, and Ashley repositions herself a little, made difficult by the weight of his arm over her, and jabs her elbow into his gut. "I'm serious you dork, wake up. I swear to god, you sleep like the de—" The words die in her throat in horror when she turns her head to face him.

His head isn't there. Nothing is there. Just dark blood pouring hot and heavy from the open space above his neck, staining the fur lining his coat and the once clean, white snow as the blizzard rages around her. Desperate to prove that this isn't real, that it can't be real, she fumbles for the hand that hangs limp at her waist and threads her fingers through his, but his fingers are cold to the touch and black with frostbite, and no matter how hard she squeezes he isn't squeezing back. She's fully aware that she's openly crying and sobbing as she repeats his name over and over, begging him to wake up and tell her that this isn't real. Her tears are freezing on her cheeks the moment they fall.

From deep within the treeline, a high-pitched shriek that rattles the teeth in her mouth echoes long and loud around the wide, open snow-covered space.

Cries and nausea alike stick in her throat as she tries frantically to wiggle out from Chris's body, but his arm is a dead weight that keeps her pinned in place against him. "C'mon, Chris. We need to go. We need to hide. Get up, please please please get up."

There's a soft thump of a large body landing in the snow far off to the right, unseen but not unheard, and she freezes in place. Hoping and praying that the thing won't see them as she huddles in closer to the protection that Chris's body is offering, her blood stained fingers tightening painfully on his limp hand and around the leather bound journal she is still holding in her other. In fear she buries her face into the snow beneath her, the cold biting at her skin and the metallic taste of Chris's spilt blood filling her mouth and nose. For a moment, there's nothing. No sound except for the wind whistling through the trees as the snow whips wildly around them.

And then Chris is gone. The comforting and yet horrifying weight he had been is just gone as he's suddenly flung through the air and colliding into a tree with a sickening crunch. Her hand had been gripping onto his so fiercely and so tightly that she had been pulled with him for just a second before his hand had been violently ripped out of her grasp. Leaving Ashley to stare wide-eyed and terrified into the face of the thing—its body too long and spindly with far too many sharp angles to be considered human—standing above her as she lays on her back. Milky-white eyes gaze back down unseeingly at her and Chris's blood is dripping from sharp, deadly claws that splatter onto her face. The thing opens its mouth to showcase row upon row of crooked and yellowed razor-sharp teeth and it screams at her, spittle flying into Ashley's face as her ears ring and ring and ring.

Too scared to cry, too scared to move, Ashley just wishes that Chris was still here with her and not lying broken and mangled and headless at the foot of a tree as he continues to slowly bleed out into the crisp white snow. A small little whimper, barely louder than the whisper of wind blowing through grass and certainly going unheard in this howling blizzard, escapes past her lips but it's enough. In a flash, the same deadly claws are raking towards her face to rip her head off in the same way it had to Chris.

And Ashley screams.

She screams and screams and screams, and screams only louder when a pair of hands cradle her face and a voice begs and pleads with her to wake up. Ashley tries to fight back against the hands and the voice, screaming for Chris to wake up and help her, but her own words keep getting caught on the blood that is bubbling out of her mouth. There's another scream, this one not her own, and then the hands have moved to try and open her mouth but she won't let them. She doesn't want her jaw ripped off like what had happened to poor Jess. Like what she had seen in the pictures that the rangers had shown her and Chris so they could identify the half naked body discovered in the mines. So she fights back even harder, trying to claw at the person or thing that killed Chris and Jess and everyone else. And then there's a cry of pain, and the hands on her face have vanished, appearing around her wrists so they could try and hold her panicked flailing back.

The moment the hands appear on her wrists, Ashley's eyes fly open and she can't breathe. She can't breathe because she's hanging in the shed, the wood cold against her back as saws whir menacingly both in front and above her as Josh hangs limpy next to her. The lower half of his body an impossible mess on the floor and the grey intestines that had managed to stay in his upper half hanging down towards it like grotesque party streamers. From behind the steel chain link fence that partitions the room, Chris stands looking straight at her as he holds a gun to his jaw, his face pale as he smiles shakily at her and pulls the trigger.

Somehow, the scream that finally manages to break through is louder than all the rest.

There's more begging and pleading that she can't make out against the loud mechanical whir of the saws. And then a phone chimes, only just managing to cut through all the screaming and whirring and echoes of gunshots. And then it chimes again, louder this time. And again. And again. And she realizes that she recognizes it, it's the ringtone that Chris had set on her phone for his contact ages and ages ago as a joke, and she had just kept forgetting to change it back until it just became his notification, joke or not.

Slowly, the shed fades away until all she's left seeing is her mother standing in her brightly lit bedroom, screaming at someone through her phone. But all Ashley is paying attention to is the repeated chimes going off constantly on her phone one after another, the screen never getting the chance to go dark before another text comes in, and Chris's name appearing for every single one.

Saundra seems to notice that her daughter has finally stopped screaming, and although she continues to plead with whoever it is on the phone with her, she reaches out a hesitant and unsure hand. Ashley notices none of this as blood continues to dribble slowly out of her mouth as she picks up and unlocks her phone.

***

Something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong and it isn't the fact that Chris is kneeling over the toilet as he retches into it for the second time tonight. Oh no, the something wrong is due to the fact that despite it being past midnight he can hear his mom trying frantically to calm someone down on the phone. It was the phone ringing that had woken him up in fact from where he had accidentally dozed off on the couch, waking up to find the old playstation controller hanging loose in his fingers and Crash idly spinning a piece of wumpa fruit on his finger in all his polygonal glory. Chris had dropped the controller the rest of the way to the floor in his rush to the bathroom though, startling poor Toby from where he had been snoozing the night away in his dog bed. He had only barely made it before he found himself throwing up what little food he had been able to eat during the day, and the coolness of the porcelain against is forehead was a balm of relief when compared to the burning in his throat and heat of his tears as they flowed slowly down his face.

He could tell the moment that Lilith had found him from the surprised cry of alarm behind him, quickly followed by a clatter as she dropped the phone to the linoleum floor in her shock as she reached out to take her son's face in her hands. Chris knew that he must have looked a dreadful sight, his face pale and drawn while his eyes looked at her with a glassy stare. The next second, she was yelling over her shoulder for his father to wake up now and turn on the car, but Chris wasn't paying any attention to that. Not when he was just starting to make out the sound of the voice through the phone, and more importantly, the screaming in the background of the call.

That was Ashley's scream. It was a sound he didn't think he would ever be allowed to forget and it hit him that she was screaming—screaming for him—and he wasn't there.

Clumsily, he ripped his face from his mother's hands and stumbled to the living room where he had left his phone on the couch. He had to help her. She needed him and he had to help her. The moment he finally had his phone in his hand he pulled up her contact name...and then he froze unsure of what to do. He couldn't call her, not because of this whole stupid break thing, but because the sound of her voice sobbing on the phone will cause him to break down with her and the last thing either of them need is to scream and cry while they're both so, so far away from each other. So he does the next best thing he can do:

He texts her.

C: what does a cloud wear under his raincoat? C: thunderwear C: why are teddy bears never hungry? C: cause they're always stuffed C: why do ducks have tail feathers? C: to cover up their buttquacks C: what kind of shoes do private investigators wear? C: sneak-ers C: why do i never tell jokes about pizza? C: they're too cheesey

And on and on and on. Even as his fingers shake he continues to text her stupid little jokes. The same ones he tells to her when he's there to hold her in his arms and remind her that he's still okay and that she’s safe. There's no describing the sob of relief he makes when she finally responds.

C: prime-mates C: what event do spiders love to attend? A: Cats C: webbings

There's a moment where he doesn't know what she means by that. How on earth could cats be the pun he was looking for in the joke? And then it hits him. She needs to know that it's really him telling these jokes and that she's not just making up everything she's seeing on her phone. Ashley is asking for the stupidest jokes about cats he knows so she can confirm that it's really him on the phone. Even tired as he is—and he is so so tired—they come naturally to him as only talking with Ashley and middle school dad jokes ever did.

C: what's a cat's favourite colour? C:purr-ple C: what do you call a cat that loves to bowl? C: an alley cat C: what's a cat's favourite tv show? C: claw and order C: what does the cat say after making a joke? C: just kitten

And so on and so forth. Ashley throws out a new topic for jokes and Chris replies with them as quickly as he can. He can hear his mom and dad talking in the next room, to each other and Saundra on the phone, but the only person he cares about is the one on the other side of his. He needs to call her. He knows what Ashley needs when she has a nightmare this bad, and the jokes are helping but she needs to hear his voice to be truly convinced that he's okay. But he can't hear hers without making things so much worse than they already are and he doesn't know what to say that would calm her down and—he stares at the last joke he had just typed out unconsciously it hits him.

C: what did the two volcanoes say to each other? C: i lava you C: i'm going to call your phone but whatever you do don't answer it C: just let it go to voicemail and please don't answer it C: please

Chris doesn't wait for her response as he shoves past his father to his bedroom, ignoring the startled shout as he slams the door behind him, and slumps against it to the floor. He doesn't want his parents to hear this. It's not anything that would worry them, but it's so so private and the only person he wants to hear this is Ash. He still doesn't look at her response as he frantically taps the call button and listens to the phone ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And ring. And then, finally, he hears her voice for the first time in nearly a week.

"Hi, this is Ashley. Sorry I can't come to the phone right now but leave a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Promise!"

***

Please enter your password.

6279#

You have one new voice message. To play your messages, press one. To record—

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said it five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep and after waking up every day. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to—

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

1

"I love you. I'm—"

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you."

1

"I love you. I'm so sorry that I'm not there so say it to your face but I love you so much that I can't fucking stand it somedays and I should have told you ages ago. I should have said something five days ago but I didn't. I should have been saying it to you before falling asleep every night and after waking up every morning. On the helicopter ride down the mountain. When you kissed me for the first time. I think I was lying when I said that nothing was wasted between us, because I should have been screaming this to you from the first moment you smiled at me over that diner's table. I wasted so much time not telling you this so I'm going to say it now. I love you, I love you, I love you, I lo—"

To replay this message: press one. To go to the previous message: press one one. To pause during message playback: press two. To fast forward a message during playing: press three. To hear this message, and the time it was delivered: press five. To copy this message to another person: press six. To erase this message and go to the next: press seven. To reply: press eight. To save this message and go to the next: press nine. To—

9

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A: I need you A: Please A: Please A: I need you A: I need you A: I need you

Please enter your password.

***

The car ride over was almost unbearable. Chris wasn't driving himself fortunately, with how tired and anxious he had been feeling for days now it would have been an absurdly stupid idea that likely would have ended in his death if he wasn't extremely lucky. As it was, he had been ready to go and beg a ride from his parents but had found Gabe already standing by the front door with the keys in hand. His almost pure white hair messy from being pulled from bed unexpectedly and leveling Chris with a glare that brooked no argument. It wasn't an argument that Chris intended to fight against as he hugged his father hard in thanks before climbing into the back of the vehicle.

But the drive had felt so much longer than it usually did, and Ashley having stopped responding to his texts certainly hadn't helped matters any. He still sent them anyways, more for his own reassurance than hers now. Lilith sat in the passenger seat next to her husband, still talking on the phone to Saundra to give progress reports and reassurances that yes the three of them were on their way now, even as she sent the occasional nervous glances at Chris in the backseat. Though worried for him or for the car upholstery in case the movement of the vehicle set off his gag reflex was anyone's guess.

The moment Chris felt the vehicle slow down his eyes jumped to the window and saw the familiar and welcoming shape of Ashley's building and he was already fumbling with seatbelt and opening the car door before they had even fully stopped. He hears his parent's cry out in shock as he dives out the still moving (even if very slowly) vehicle and he's stumbling towards the door. Chris realizes in horror that in his hurry to leave he had managed to completely forget his keys by the front door, and in the time it takes him to realize that the door has already opened. Saundra is standing in front of him dressed up for her overnight shift at the dispatch center that she is now extremely late for, and phone held up to her ear as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Chris doesn't even bother to say thanks or remark about the deep scratches on her cheek, the pair still bleeding just a little, before he's shoving his way past her and up the stairs to where Ashley's room is. He trips on the last step and falls forward, his phone skittering across the floor, but leaves it once he gets to his feet and just about barges into her room.

He takes barely a moment to stare at Ashley huddled up on her bed, looking so small in his dark sweater, and her eyes squeezed shut as her phone is pressed as close to her ear as possible as she rocks back and forth. There's a thin streak of dried blood from her mouth all the way down her chin and her eyes fly open in shock when he takes an unsteady step towards her. For a split second he's too scared to move, he doesn't want to frighten her anymore than she already is, but then the phone drops from her fingers and she whimpers out his name like she can’t believe he’s really here and he breaks.

He's already fully crying as he collides into her on the bed, but so is she so there's no need to feel embarrassed about that. He can hear his own voice as a tinny facsimile from the phone as the voicemail continues to play out before starting off into the electronic drone of the operator, but he ignores it for the feel of Ashley's arms wrapped firmly around him, her hands clawing into the back of his shirt to try and hold him closer as they both sob bitterly into each others shoulders. Chris is the first to pull back, though it's just so he can hold her face in his hands as he presses their foreheads together, thumbs wiping away tears that won't stop falling even as he continues to cry himself, just soaking in her presence in front of him. Ashley takes no time for her hands to start roaming all over his skin when they snake underneath his shirt, just feeling the unmarked bare skin as she searches for wounds and marks that no longer exist or have never even existed in the first place.

The two of them sit there like that for an unknown amount of time, just confirming that the other is truly alive and safe. Until Ashley slowly removes her hands from under his shirt so she can drag him down and forward into a deep kiss. A kiss that is by all accounts is downright awful considering that Chris never got the chance to rinse out his mouth and all he can taste is the blood in Ashley's from where she had bit her tongue during her nightmare at some point. Neither of them care. And he still doesn't care when Ashley starts to leave what may very well be slightly bloody kisses as she trails her lips from his mouth to the corner of his lips, across his cheek, and down his jaw until she finds the spot she's looking for and stops there so she can feel his frantic pulse thrumming beneath the skin. She holds her mouth there for what many would likely consider to be an uncomfortably long amount of time, but Chris says nothing. Not when he's now too busy picking up where Ashley had let off, letting his hands skate over the area of her stomach and waist beneath her shirt and his sweater.

The moment the two of them have calmed down enough that the sobs have lessened into quiet tears, Ashley finally removes her lips from his jaw and lowers one of her hands so she can place it flat on his chest and can feel his heart thumping steadily beneath her hand. Chris lets a hand cover hers to hold it there while he carefully places the other on the back of her neck, this thumb soothingly rubbing back and forth to comfort her. And gently, so gently, he brings their foreheads back together as they let the last of their adrenaline run out.

She's safe. He's safe. They're both safe and that is all that matters right now.

"I'm sorry," Ashley is the first to speak and words catch and almost shatter on the way out. "I'm so sorry. This was such a stupid idea and—"

He doesn't disagree with her. This had been a terrible idea from the start and while she's not wrong that they need to get used to not being around all the time, this was too much too soon. For both of them it seems. "I can't do that again Ash," he says instead. "We'll figure something out. Make agreements with our dorm roommates if we have to, force the college heads to accept our emails and the doctors advice, or rent the shittiest and cheapest apartment we can find. I don't care. We'll figure it out, but I can't do that again Ash. I love you but I can't."

Ashley nods weakly against his head in agreement. She can't do it again either. The two of them had barely lasted five days after all, and this whole failed endeavour had probably sent them back months. "I love you too. I love you so so much. You can't leave me, Chris, please. You can't. Not tonight."

He has no intention to, he doesn't know what his parents intended bringing him here, or if they thought he'd be going back home with them after this, but he's not going anywhere. They'll have to drag him kicking and screaming from the bed if they try, and now that the adrenaline has finally worn off, the lack of sleep he'd been having the last five days is hitting him and he is just so, so very tired. So tired, that all he gives in reply is just a reassuring forehead kiss in promise that he won't be going anywhere, not for a long time if he can help it, and then starts to bring Ashley down so she can lay on the bed with him. She follows without a fight.

It only takes them a moment to settle, Ashley laying so her front is flush to his back as is physically possible with her arm draped over his waist and fingers threaded tightly through his. Chris takes her other hand so he can softly kiss her inner wrist and then holds the knuckles lightly to his lips. The two of them slowly drifting off as Ashley continues to softly whisper declarations of love into the back of his neck.

Chris's eyes are closed, just enjoying her whispers that are meant just for him to hear, and even then he can tell that someone is standing in the door and watching them. But even if he opened his eyes to see who it was, with his glasses now resting in their spot on Ashley’s bedside table, he wouldn’t be able to tell anyway. And he’s just far too exhausted to even try right now. It’s only her mom anyway, or one of his parents—quite possibly all three of them—and he knows that come morning and after hours and hours of sleep, that there are going to be some conversations and intense worried scolding that need to be had. But with Ashley's fingers squeezing around his, and him squeezing back just as firmly, he doesn't care.

For the first time in a little over five days, the two of them fall asleep peacefully. Secure and content in the knowledge that they’re not gonna have to do this again, not for a very, very long time.

[holy-hyuck]

Hocus Pocus, Please Focus!

Trying to make a sleeping potion for your parents so you and your best friend can sneak out to a senior party is only ever good in theory; especially since Lee Felix really sucks at being a wizard.

Pairing: Wizard!Lee Felix x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Genre: Comedy, Platonic relationship

Warnings: A dead rat?

happy halloween y’all!!!

“Is that a dead rat?” Felix questions just as you enter his parents’ office. He picks up the rodent by its tail, inspecting the bloody ball of fur, and you nearly gag as he dangles it in front of your face.

“Don’t look at me like that! It’s that bloody book of yours that called for it,” you tell him as he puts it back in the box you brought it to him in. “Why do we need it anyway?”

The freckled boy wipes his hands on a rag. “Because-” he picks up the small book, bound in scarlet-red leather, “-it’s in the recipe for a sleeping potion. For our parents. Well, more specifically mine, but you get the point.”

He drops the book back on the table and returns to mixing the liquid inside a small, store-bought cauldron. He said a pot would do but Felix’s just extra like that.

“Have you ever considered, I don’t know...asking them to let us go to this Halloween party?”

Felix shrieks in laughter as an answer, causing you to roll your eyes. “Yeah, and then I’ll ask them for a million dollars.”

“Don’t be silly.” You plop down on a chair. “They’re more likely to give you the money.”

Your eyes lock and you smile at each other. You roll on the office chair towards the table, grabbing the leather book and opening it. A faint smell of roses hits your nostrils, and you trace the pressed flowers with the pads of your fingers. They’re imprinted onto the pages and the covers, and you feel delighted every time Felix lets you even touch that book. He doesn’t trust you any more than he trusts himself, and he’s a shit wizard, so that’s saying enough.

Hearing a plop, you look up to the grimace on Felix’s face.

“The rat?”

“The rat indeed.” He takes the book out of your hands despite the frown it causes on your face. “Eighteen drops of coffee, locust twigs and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydrochloric acid, and a dead rat.” He sighs. “Well, if they don’t fall asleep after this, they’ll probably drop dead.”

“And we’ll get to go to Brooke’s party! Yay!” you exclaim, urging your best friend to finish the sleeping potion. Only two more hours until the party starts, and you still needed to iron your outfit.

You watch Felix chant, eyes flicking back and forth between the bubbling liquid and the book in his trembling hand. A large bubble pops, creating a vile sound and smell, and despite Felix’s chanting, the bubbling stops.

“Great, it’ll fart them to death at this point.” You turn and grab a newspaper, sending it flying at your friend’s hand. You miss, and it falls into the cauldron.

“Look what you’ve done,” Felix cries and fishes it out but there’s only half of the paper there; the ridges are burnt off, black liquid dripping off of them. “On the contrary...”

“Hocus pocus, Felix, focus!”

Felix groans at your words as you shoot him a stupid grin, ushering him to continue. As much fun as you're having - and, let's be honest, it's not every day you get to witness Felix's failed attempts at magic - the clock is ticking, and the last time your friend's parents found him doing magic without supervision, his voice sounded like Mickey Mouse for a week straight. Yes, you do have evidence. And yes, you are planning on using it as blackmail.

"Okay, done," Felix alerts you after about five more minutes, closing the book and setting it down, then adding, "I think."

You sigh. "So much thinking from you today, Felix, I'm proud."

He smacks you on the head with the half-burnt newspaper as both of you gather around the table, inspecting the liquid swimming inside the cauldron. Felix takes a long wooden spoon - the one you used last night to stir mac and cheese - and moves the liquid around. It comes out thick in consistency, like syrup, except it's dark green and when you look at it in the artificial light, you see specks of glitter.

The boy brings it up to his lips and you look at him, incredulous.

"What if it works and you fall asleep?"

“What do you mean 'what if'? You really have that little faith in me?" The look you give Felix answers his question. "Besides, they need a bigger dose for it to work on them, don't worry."

He offers you some and you reluctantly lick some liquid off the spoon. It tastes tangy, like when you add too much salt to your tomato salad and the taste is so overwhelming it leaves you swimming and drowning in sodium. Well, at least it doesn't taste like a dead rat...not that you know what that tastes like.

"Okay, you get this ready and I will get myself ready. Expect me here in an hour. Don't screw things up." And with your words of encouragement, you leave Felix to do his thing.

The good thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that you can check yourself out whilst waiting for the boy to haul his ass downstairs, admiring the black-and-gold short robe reaching your mid-thighs, with a giant hood and some old, lace-up boots with the crispy remains of mud still atop.

The bad thing about the large glass embedded into Felix’s front doors is that when you lean forward to check you have nothing between your teeth and start using your fingers as a toothpick when you notice doughnut remains wedged between the two top incisors, is the exact time Felix decides to open the door to his house, leaving you looking like a freak of nature by choice.

“Gross,” he comments but locks the doors behind him promptly and changes the subject. “They’re out cold. These potions work for up to six hours but-”

“-with your magic?” you interrupt.

“-I wouldn’t count on it,” he finishes up, giving you a death glare.

Just before you enter your car, you clock the blue, black, and white tunic over the thinnest leggings you’ve ever seen draped over Felix’s body and you shiver at the thinness of the material. Isn’t he cold?

“Is that your actual hat?” you question after you start your car and make your way to Brooke’s summer house, and Felix adjusts the pointy hat on his head.

“Yep, and look at this-”

“I can’t look, I’m in a- Is that your ring? Your actual magic ring? Lix, your parents are gonna cut off your fingers and feed them to squirrels if they find out you’ve taken it outside without their supervision. I mean, you’ve already been doing magic without them knowing, and used a sleeping potion on them, and- and-”

You hear Felix snort.

“Relax. They’re sleeping, and we get to sneak out. That’s all that matters. Besides, I got you something too.”

Finally parking your car in front of a medium-sized house, you get out and rush to your friend’s side. “What’s that?”

“It’s a magic mirror. It’s connected to every mirror in my house, so we’ll see if my parents wake up, so then we can change our names and flee the country. I want you to keep hold of it.” He pushes the small mirror into your hand and you pocket it inside the rather humongous pockets of your robe.

You thought it’d be ironic if you dressed up as a witch because...well...you know. Felix is a wizard? No? But then Felix decided to do the same and you already know you’re never gonna hear the end of the comments from your classmates.

Well, here comes what you’ve been waiting for.

About an hour into the party you’re already tipsy but you expected nothing less going into this. Felix is nowhere to be found, although to be fair, it’s not like you bothered looking for him. He’s probably with Seungmin, Jisung and Hyunjin - his other friends from a book club he promises isn’t as nerdy as it sounds - and up to no good, as always. The last time you left them unsupervised because you couldn’t stand being around Jisung for any longer than necessary, Seungmin’s hair was neon green, and Hyunjin had a bald patch at the back of his head. It was fun being a witness of their stupidity instead of a victim for once.

You walk outside to enjoy the fresh air, into a grand garden decorated with white fairy lights. It’s so beautiful you actually let out a gasp as you admire the work put into it until the sight of the pool makes you sober up on the spot. The pool is small and at first, you think the water’s just unfiltered, giving it its green hue.

But then you feel it; the sticky substance beneath your feet as it makes the most obnoxious sound you’ve ever heard when you lift up your foot. The dark goo travels across the tiles and the grass only to end up in the pool, staining the water green.

It looks...stupidly like what you and your best friend have given your parents - and at that realisation, your eyes widen and you scurry back inside to find Felix.

“Lix, there you are,” you say after good ten minutes of searching, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

He turns to you with the smuggest grin plastered on his face as he hands you a drink.

“I’ve heard this new energy drink kicks ass. Try it.” He ushers you to take a sip and you do, alongside him. It does taste nice, almost like pink lemonade, and you find yourself drinking the whole cup before you know it.

“Where did you get it from?”

“Oh, someone gave it to me.” You slap his arms, causing him to yelp. “What on earth was that for?!”

“Felix! What idiot accepts drinks from a stranger?”

“The one that wants to have-” he stops himself, getting dangerously close to your face, so much you can clearly see his freckles, “-fun. Ever heard of that?”

You push him away with a shove to his stomach, eliciting a laugh. “Whenever you have fun, someone ends up paying the price, Felix.”

You look over to him and brush away some orange hairs from his cheek, only to find them stuck to his skin. You shrug it off.

“Oh, I remember now!”

Without another word, you drag him into the garden, and he spills a bit of his drink in the process.

“What am I looking at exactly?” he questions when you finally stop, motioning to the pool, which brandishes clear water much to your surprise.

"What the..."

You both jump up at the loud thud behind you and whip around to see a body dumped on the ground. You feel like throwing up, clutching Felix's hand, which is...hairy?

Looking down, you notice more of those ginger hairs growing on the back of his hand and you jerk your own hand away.

"How does that feel?"

You hear a female voice alongside a deep laugh and slow clapping. From the shadows of the trees surrounding the garden, Felix's parents emerge, and suddenly you feel yourself sinking into the ground, knowing it won't be long before you join your friend on the floor behind you.

"Mum!" Felix yelps. "Dad! What are you doing here?"

"Well you see, your dad and I were planning to have a movie night but it seems like we took a little nap. Must be something to do with that wretched slime you slipped in our drinks."

"There was a bit of a branch in there, have you noticed, love?" his father interjects, pulling out a familiar book from behind his back. "Eighteen drops of coffee, locust wings and weeping leaves, lemon juice, hydro-"

"W-wings?" Felix stutters out and you observe him for a second before the realisation seeps in.

"Fucking wings," you mutter under your breath so his parents don't hear.

"Yes, I do believe the spell calls for locust wings, but you always were bad at grammar son." His dad smiles. "So anyway, after we woke up, we saw the house number through that magic mirror I believe you gave your friend."

"Um, (y/n)." Felix traces his finger down your cheek with wide eyes, and you do the same, the feeling of roughness underneath your fingertips.

Taking out your phone, you look at the dark reflection on the screen and gasp in horror. The green and yellow scales reach all the way up to your eye, which begins turning a fiery orange colour. You blink your slit pupils and drop your phone in shock.

"I hope you enjoyed your drinks tonight, by the way. We added something special. You'll find out in the next hour anyway. Or, well, sort of."

The adults laugh, and you look to Felix's arm, now covered with thick orange fur.

"That should serve both of you a reminder not to perform magic unsupervised. Because you, Lee Felix, aren't very good at it." His mother comes up to him and pats his hairy cheek. "At least you'll make a cute weasel."

[snickiebear]

Sorry for nose bleeding all over the place but I’m such a huge fan of your writing!

Nosebleed Club Asks: lace dress, wes anderson, pink lip gloss, and cherubim

Thanks in advance for any of your answers! Sending lots of love and hugs your way <3

gasp!!!!! hi eggqty!!!!! thank you so much for coming into my asks and i am mELTING you're so sweet!!! :''''''''''))))))

Lace Dress: Some of your favorite fashion concepts?

okay i really love (ripped) mom jeans, so basically Big Pants Little Shirt type outfits. plus raggedy converse, and i am literally always wearing a (backwards) hat. but also short little dresses are so cute?? oh! so i have so many stupidly Nerdy t-shirts (He-man, OG voltron, gremlins, cartoon ones) bc i love cool t-shirts. they're just so neat HAHAHA

Wes Anderson: Favorite films?

ok so i don't actually like watching movies that much, but these are my all time favorites that i could sit down and watch at anytime:

back to the future I

the old guard

pride & prejudice (with Keira Knightly)

spiderman: into the spiderverse

the matrix I

soul

school of rock

the mighty ducks

iron jawed angels

and most comedy specials on netflix (hmu if u want any recs!)

Pink lip gloss: What makes you feel confident?

when i look good. if i like how my hair's looking, and my outfit is the bomb dot com then i definitely am feeling like The Shit.

but also, praise! in the sense of doing an activity (for example: writing). if lots of people were to tell me "hey! i like this a lot when you do it!" or anything along the lines, my ego is going to grow tremendously LOL and in turn my confidence with that craft.

Cherubim: How have you changed this year?

i've gotten a lot more tired and my in-person social skills have slowly receded. its gotten to the point where i don't like leaving my house for longer than i have to and i have permanent bag under my eyes LMAO

also, i think i've grown a lot more open-minded in all sense of the word. i try to understand everyone's point of view (even if i don't agree); ive come to terms that gender and sexuality are, in fact, Hard so meh its whatever; people are gonna like what they like and it doesn't bother me nor harm anyone so why bother them? that type of stuff :))))

but i would say i'm a lot happier. fandom life is so much fun and without it idk what i would have done this past year HAHAHAHA

i've really let myself enjoy things that i like without feeling weird or guilty about it. like writing fanfiction, loving anime and posting about it, being able to look at art (both classic and modern) and just be able to express my love for it in this digital space where people won't judge. it's honestly been so freeing. and because of it i've developed a "fuck you i like what i like" kind of attitude both online and offline. so thats always fun LMAO

thank you so much for askin eggqty!!! <333333 am sending all the love your way!

come bleed on me