#like shit they were out there almost dying at 10 when i spent like. whole afternoons drawing a single anime eye

[flamemons]

kouji finds that his new brother is really supportive of his art.....maybe he doesn't have to keep his hobby a secret.....

[bruhnze]

PLAYING FOR KEEPS

CHAPTER 6 – It’s just more convenient

Summary: Ona Batlle has had a crush on Lucy Bronze for a little while now… how will it go when she joins Barça? A 10 chapter series.

Warnings: Slow burn, angst, fluff, smut. All the things, but I give this as a complete warning for the whole series. Not every chapter involves all the warnings :).

masterlist

November 11, 2023: vs. Villarreal CF (6-0, away) November 14, 2023: vs. SL Benfica (5-0, home) November 19, 2023: vs. Real Madrid (5-0, home) November 22, 2023: vs. Eintracht Frankfurt (3-1, away)

November 2023 – Spain

The weeks had gone by in a blur of amazing games and moments together. Both Ona and Lucy had asked for the other if they wanted to do ‘something simple’ a few times, the phrase had become their code for wanting to sleep together. And every time, it was perfect.

Well, almost perfect, Ona thought. Because no matter how close they felt, no matter how comfortable and intimate the moments were, it always ended the same way: one of them would go home.

She didn’t know why they did it, and she definitely didn’t like it. But every time they spent the night together, if Lucy was at her place, she’d eventually say, “Alright, I guess I’ll go home,” leaving Ona feeling a quiet disappointment. And when Ona was at Lucy’s, she’d find herself asking, “Shall I go home?” as if seeking permission, and Lucy would always agree, sometimes even just solely with a casual nod. It didn’t make sense, and Ona wondered if Lucy really didn’t want to spend the night, but neither of them brought it up.

Professionally, though, everything had gone perfectly. They’d crushed Villarreal 6-0, followed with a dominant 5-0 against SL Benfica at home, and now today, November 19th, they had absolutely destroyed Real Madrid in El Clásico, 5-0, in front of a roaring home crowd.

It was a really busy and tight schedule, but with these results it was the kind of run every footballer dreamed of. The team was on a winning streak and that made everyone very happy. It also seemed as if everyone was even more motivated in training and Ona couldn’t have been prouder of the team.

After the match, the team celebrated, but only briefly. There was no time for a big party. Tomorrow, they were flying out to Germany for their Champions League match against Eintracht Frankfurt on the 22nd.

After the brief celebratory meal, Ona and Lucy returned home together. They dropped the dogs off with Lucy’s dogsitter. Ona had had a problem because she was originally going to let her brother babysit the dog, but he had some plans where a dog wasn’t able to fit in. So Ona had discussed it with Lucy, who had called her own dogsitter. The woman had been more than happy to watch over Coco as well, especially since Lucy had told her that Coco and Narla were practically best friends.

With the dogs settled, they headed to Lucy’s place. It had started out as a casual idea, just to stop for a quick drink to unwind. But as they sat together, talking and laughing, Ona realized something important.

“Shit…” Ona blinked, glancing around. “I haven’t packed my stuff yet.”

Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise before breaking into a laugh. “Oh my god, I haven’t thought about packing either.”

‘’I should go pack then.’’ Ona said laughing, but also a little sad, she didn’t want to go yet.

Lucy giggled, ‘’imagine we’d just stepped on the bus tomorrow with no luggage, I bet we wouldn’t have found out until the airport check-in.’’ She stood up, ‘’maybe we can help eachother, first we’ll do mine then yours, and then we can.’’ She wiggled her eyebrows, ‘’celebrate the El Clásico win a little more.’’ She looked at Ona, ‘’if you are not too tired ofcourse.’’

Ona smiled, ‘’yeah, let’s pack together.’’ This was perfect, she had been dying for a peek in Lucy’s closet anyways, and this meant spending more time together.

They went to Lucy’s bedroom and started packing, holding the list, that was send in the group chat earlier, open to see if she had everything. Even though Ona didn’t know where Lucy’s stuff was, they worked like an oiled machine. They made her the folder/packer and Lucy searched all the stuff that she read out loud.

..

‘’Okay next?’’

Ona looked at the list, ‘’uhm, we have everything of the list..’’

‘’Perfect.’’

Ona looked at the suitcase, ‘’you have half the suitcase left.’’

‘’Yeah,’’ Lucy shrugged, ‘’I always only pack the list, I usually have space left.’’

‘’Don’t you want to bring own clothes or something?’’

‘’Yeah I have packed one set, and I already know from experience there’s a small chance of even wearing that one set.’’ Lucy chuckled, ‘’we’ll be in Barça gear the whole trip.’’

‘’Mhm,’’ Ona agreed, ‘’true.’’

‘’Uh,’’ Lucy started, scratching her neck, ‘’maybe, if you want..’’ she looked at Ona, ‘’like, because we are roomies, you know.’’

Ona raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Lucy cleared her throat. “If you want… you could use the other half of my suitcase. Since we’re sharing a room, you know.´´

Ona’s heart swelled at the offer, but she played it cool. “Yeah… that would be..,” she said, trying to sound casual even though all she wanted to do was kiss Lucy. She couldn´t find the words.

‘’Convenient.’’ Lucy offered.

‘’Uh, yes.’’ Ona pretended that that was exactly what she had meant, it was just more convenient, right? There where no other reasons for this.

…

They walked out of the room at the same time, their bodies almost fitting through the doorway—almost. The suitcase, however, wedged them in place, leaving them awkwardly close, faces inches apart as they stood there, neither making the first move to adjust.

Lucy chuckled softly, and Ona joined in, though neither of them stepped back. For some reason, neither of them wanted to move. Ona could feel Lucy’s breath, and for a moment, she swore she caught Lucy staring at her lips. Or was she just imagining it?

“Uh…” Lucy’s voice broke the silence, her tone hesitant. “I’ve been thinking about something, but I don’t really know how to say it.”

Ona frowned, her heart rate spiking, though she tried to stay cool on the outside. “You can say it, don’t worry,” she replied lightly, but inside, every alarm bell was ringing. What was Lucy going to say? Was this about them being too close? Or something good, like staying over at each other’s place? They had just agreed to share a suitcase, after all, so it couldn’t be bad… right?

Lucy leaned in, their noses almost touching now, and Ona felt her breath hitch. “Sometimes…” Lucy started, her voice a soft murmur, “I feel like I want to kiss you. Like, outside of the... you know, when we do our benefits thing.”

Ona’s mind went blank for a second. She feels it too?! Her heart raced as she tried to stay calm, but her thoughts were a chaotic mess. She replied, maybe a little too casually, “Oh, yeah, we can add that to our benefits...” She leaned in, brushing Lucy’s lips with her own. “You’re a good kisser anyway, so it’s not a punishment or anything.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Ona mentally cringed. Not a punishment? She was dying for these moments, craving Lucy’s kisses like they were her only weakness. In truth, she worshipped every second Lucy’s lips touched hers. Ugh, why did she say that?

Lucy’s chuckle brought Ona back, her breath warm against Ona’s mouth. “Okay then,” Lucy teased, her voice low. “I guess if it’s not a punishment…” She closed the already tiny gap between them, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft but filled with the quiet intensity that had been simmering between them all night.

Ona’s mind spun. What a day. The perfect football match, sharing a suitcase with Lucy, and now this. Kissing Lucy in a way that wasn’t just about their ‘arrangement.’ It felt... real.

When Lucy finally pulled back, she smiled softly. “By the way,” she added, her voice almost playful. “You’re a pretty good kisser too.”

Ona grinned, her heart doing a little flip. “Thanks,” she replied, wanting to lean back in for another kiss, but Lucy moved away just a fraction.

“You’re such a good kisser that sometimes, when I look at your lips, I just…” Lucy trailed off, shaking her head slightly.

Ona blinked in surprise. Was Lucy… blushing? Lucy Bronze, blushing? “You just what?” Ona prompted, her curiosity piqued.

Lucy laughed softly, almost embarrassed. “I don’t know… I just remember us kissing and then I want to kiss you again.”

Ona couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Hearing that was more than a compliment. It was everything. Knowing she had this effect on Lucy made her feel a strange kind of confidence, a warmth that spread through her. “Me too,” she confessed, not just because it was true, but because she wanted Lucy to feel good about opening up to her.

Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise, and she smiled. “You think about kissing me sometimes too?”

Ona chuckled, enjoying the way Lucy seemed genuinely taken aback. Maybe she had been more discreet than she thought after all. “Mhm, sometimes,” she teased, before adding with a soft smile, “but sometimes a hug or a cuddle too.”

Lucy’s smile softened, a playful light dancing in her eyes. “Yeah, like we do on away games.”

“Exactly,” Ona said, feeling the warmth between them settle into something comfortable and familiar.

Finally, Lucy stepped back, making room for Ona to step through the doorway. “Well, let’s pack your stuff before it gets super late.”

Ona nodded with a small smile, though a part of her felt sad that this little confession moment was over. She had wanted them to talk more, to settle the whole sleeping-over thing once and for all. But she wasn’t going to push it, not tonight.

“Yeah, let’s do that,” she agreed, though her mind was still buzzing from the kiss and the revelation that Lucy had been thinking about her in the same way.

…

Once they arrived at Ona’s apartment, the energy between them felt quieter, softer than it had been earlier. The high from their El Clásico win still lingered in the background, but now it was paired with the gentle weight of the conversation they’d just had at Lucy’s place. As they stepped inside, Lucy tossed her backpack onto the couch while Ona placed the suitcase on her bed, the space around them settling into a comfortable quiet.

“Alright,” Lucy said, shrugging off her Barça coat and draping it over a chair. “Let’s get your stuff packed.”

Ona smiled to herself, she was happy with Lucy’s presence. Every time they were this close, her heart seemed to race, but tonight felt a little different. The air between them felt lighter, more open, like something unspoken had shifted after their earlier kiss.

They moved naturally through the motions of packing, with Ona gathering her things and handing them to Lucy, who folded and placed them into the suitcase. The ease of their movements felt like second nature, as if they’d done this a hundred times before. Their hands brushed occasionally, each touch sending a quiet spark of warmth up Ona’s arm. She couldn’t help but feel how effortless it all was; the way they moved around each other, shared tasks, shared moments. It felt right.

..

“Done?” Ona asked, handing Lucy the last item.

Lucy gave a quick glance at the packing list and then flashed a soft smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Yup, seems like we’re all set.”

For a moment, Ona simply watched her, taking in the way Lucy smiled, her lips curling gently, her eyes sparkling with that post-match glow, her hair still a little damp from the shower a couple hours earlier. She felt a surge of affection, her crush was getting worse and worse.

“Oh, wait—your toiletries,” Lucy said suddenly, breaking the silence. “We skipped that earlier.”

Ona blinked, pulling herself back into focus. “Right, toiletries and some things for the backpack.’’ She chuckled, ‘’thanks, I could’ve easily forgotten those.”

They moved to the bathroom to gather her remaining essentials. Ona opened the cabinet, reaching for her things when she turned to ask Lucy if she needed toothpaste. They used the same brand, and since Lucy had packed hers, it seemed like a simple enough question.

When she turned she realized how close Lucy was standing. Too close. Well, not that she minded.

Her breath hitched. Lucy’s face was just a breath away from Ona’s. The air between them thickened, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then Lucy’s eyes flickered down, her gaze settling on Ona’s lips.

The way Lucy’s eyes where fixed on her made Ona giddy. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Lucy’s in a kiss that was soft and deliberate.

It wasn’t rushed, and it wasn’t just part of their ‘arrangement’. This felt different. It felt real.

Lucy breathed through her nose, desperately keeping her lips on Ona’s, her hands finding Ona’s hips as she pressed her against the cool porcelain of the sink. Ona let the items she was holding clatter into the washbasin as she brought her hands to Lucy’s neck, feeling the warmth of her skin under her fingers. The kiss deepened, their breaths mingling as Lucy lifted Ona slightly, her body pinned gently against the sink.

Ona wrapped her legs around Lucy’s waist, the heat between them building with every passing second. Her heart swelled, a slow warmth spreading through her entire body. Kissing Lucy like this, without the pretense of their ‘benefits’ or the careful boundaries they had set, felt... freeing.

Lucy pulled back just enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting lightly against Ona’s. They staid silent for a moment.

Ona hoped Lucy had felt this too. Had felt the connection.

Lucy smiled carefully, her lips still close enough to brush against Ona’s as she spoke. “Maybe we should finish packing…” she murmured, though there was no urgency in her voice, her voice sounded almost apologetic.

Ona smiled, giving Lucy’s lips a final peck before unwrapping her legs from Lucy’s waist. “Yeah, I guess we should,” she said softly, though part of her wanted to stay in this moment just a little longer.

..

They finished packing quickly after that, placing the last of Ona’s toiletries and travel essentials into the backpack. The clock ticked forward, the late hour reminding them both of the early morning flight they had ahead. The adrenaline from the day was slowly wearing off, replaced by a creeping sense of exhaustion.

As they stood back and looked at their packed bags, standing ready in the hallway, Lucy turned to Ona with an apologetic smile. “By the way, I know I said we’d… you know, continue celebrating,” she said, her eyes tracing Ona’s face. “But I’m a bit tired, so maybe…” Her thumb brushed lightly across Ona’s jaw, sending a shiver down her spine. “Maybe a raincheck?”

Ona’s heart fluttered at the tenderness in Lucy’s voice. She bit her lip, her mind spinning. She still wanted more. She wanted more time, more closeness. But she understood the exhaustion, as she felt it too. “Mhm, of course,” Ona agreed softly. “I’m a bit tired too.”

But then, almost as if the words were forming without her permission, Ona spoke again, her heart pounding with nervous excitement. “But if we’re talking about convenience…”

Lucy’s eyes lifted, curiosity dancing in them.

“You could maybe stay here,” Ona offered, her voice calm though her heart was pounding in her chest. “Narla’s with the sitter anyway… and it’d be easier in the morning.”

Lucy’s expression softened, a gentle smile forming on her lips. “Yeah… that would be.. convenient,” she said, her voice quiet and warm, like the offer meant more to her than just convenience.

Ona’s chest tightened, a rush of quiet happiness flooding her. This was more than she had expected, more than she had dared to hope for. “Alright,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Then it’s settled.”

..

After finishing packing the suitcase and the backpack and setting them, ready to go, in the hallway. They headed back to the bathroom.

Ona reached into the cabinet, pulling out a fresh toothbrush head for her electric toothbrush. “Here,” she said with a shy smile, passing the toothbrush attachment to Lucy. ‘’So you can brush your tooth in a second.’’

Lucy looked at it, then smiled warmly. “Aw, cute. My own toothbrush at your place.” she said quietly.

Ona couldn’t help but laugh, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks. She felt a little silly, but the small act of offering Lucy the toothbrush head felt oddly intimate, like it was one more step toward something more between them.

They brushed their teeth one after the other, the soft hum of the electric toothbrushes the only sound in the quiet apartment. Ona glanced at Lucy in the mirror, when it was her turn, watching Lucy brushing her teeth in her bathroom like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Eventually Ona walked back to her bed, feeling the familiar pull of tiredness wash over her.

After a moment Lucy slipped under the covers beside her, and without a word, they found each other’s arms, their bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. The warmth of Lucy’s body against hers made Ona feel safe, secure, and for the first time, she didn’t feel that lingering anxiety that came with the end of the night.

Lucy placed a soft kiss on Ona’s forehead, her arms wrapping around her as they settled into the blankets. “Goodnight,” she whispered, her breath warm against Ona’s skin.

Ona pressed a kiss to Lucy’s shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breathing. “Goodnight,” she whispered back, her voice soft and content.

As they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, Ona felt the weight of the day melt away. For the first time in a while, she wasn’t worried about what came next or if Lucy would leave in the middle of the night. She wasn’t thinking about the unspoken rules of their relationship or the blurry lines they’d created.

All she could think about was how perfect this moment felt, falling asleep listening to Lucy’s heartbeat beneath her.

..

20th November

Ona stirred from sleep as she felt the warmth of Lucy pulling away from behind her. Her body instinctively reacted, her hand tightening on her forearm to hold Lucy close, even as her eyelids were barely open.

She squinted at the alarm clock on the nightstand, trying to make out the time. “We still have more than half an hour before the alarm,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

Lucy paused, her lips brushing softly against the back of Ona’s neck. “I’m sorry for waking you,” she whispered, her voice tender. “I just need to go to the bathroom for a second, but I’ll be right back.”

Ona hummed in response, already missing the warmth of Lucy’s body as she reluctantly let her go. She heard Lucy pad softly out of the room, the faint creak of the bathroom door fading into the quiet of the early morning.

She curled into the sheets, the grogginess clinging to her as she blinked slowly. She didn’t mind waking up early like this, not with Lucy there, sharing her space, her bed. It felt like a quiet kind of magic, one she wanted to savor.

A few moments later, Lucy returned, slipping back under the covers, her body finding its way back to Ona’s like they were two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly. Lucy’s hand snaked around Ona’s waist again, pulling her close, and she buried her face into the curve of Ona’s shoulder.

“Hmm… half an hour left, huh?” Lucy’s voice was low and playful, and Ona could feel the smile in her words as she kissed the nape of her neck, trailing soft kisses down her shoulder.

Still a bit sleepy, Ona’s lips curled into a soft smile. “Did you sleep well?” she asked, her voice quiet, still a little dreamy.

Lucy’s breath was warm against her skin as she whispered, “Mhmmm, I slept really well. I’ve got all my energy back.”

Ona’s heart gave a little flutter, her sleepiness beginning to fade as Lucy’s kisses became more deliberate. The soft brush of Lucy’s lips against her neck sent a warm ripple through her body, and she shifted slightly.

Before Ona knew it, Lucy had pulled her onto her back, hovering over her, her hands sliding gently up Ona’s sides as their lips met in a kiss that was…perfect. Ona responded instantly, her fingers tangling in Lucy’s hair as the morning fog lifted from her mind. The feeling of Lucy’s weight against her, the warmth of her touch; it set her pulse racing.

Lucy’s lips moved from Ona’s mouth to her jawline, trailing down to her collarbone as she murmured, “Half an hour is plenty of time…” Her voice was low, teasing, filled with that unmistakable spark that made Ona’s head spin.

Ona let out a quiet laugh, though it was cut short by a sharp intake of breath as Lucy’s tongue darted out against her neck. Any lingering sleepiness disappeared as their bodies pressed closer together, the heat between them rising quickly.

Ona’s hands roamed Lucy’s back, pulling her closer, feeling every inch of her.

Lucy’s lips found hers again, more insistent this time, and Ona responded eagerly, her body arching slightly into Lucy’s. Their breaths became quicker, their movements more urgent as they got lost in the heat of the moment, bodies moving together in perfect rhythm.

The morning stretched out before them, the minutes ticking by in a blur of soft gasps, lingering touches, and whispered words.

..

They had made it in time for the bus, barely. Ona couldn’t help but feel a little flustered as she watched Lucy casually carry ‘their’ suitcase and ‘their’ backpack, effortlessly slung over her shoulder.

“You really don’t have to carry everything,” Ona rolled her eyes, though she didn’t exactly mind the view. ‘’You can give me the backpack.’’

Lucy shot her a grin. “You drove us here. Consider this my thanks.”

Ona rolled her eyes again, but there was something about Lucy’s easygoing smile that always caught her off guard.

The bus ride to the airport was filled with chatter, the team still buzzing from the win and looking forward to the trip. Lucy sat beside Mariona, and Ona found herself sitting nearby. She had took place the row behind them, on the other side of the path, sneaking the occasional glance at Lucy when she wasn’t paying attention.

Once they arrived at the airport, the team trickled toward a small café by their gate.

Ona and Lucy lined up for drinks. Mariona joined them, sliding in beside Lucy as the three scanned the menu standing besides the stand.

It was their turn and a young man smiled at them, ‘’what can I get you guys?’’

“An iced coffee for me,” Ona said.

“Matcha for me, please” Lucy added.

“Café con leche,” Mariona stated. “It’s too early for any of that fancy stuff you two order.”

The barista laughed and nodded for them to stand in the other line, to wait until the drinks would be ready. Ona went up to the other employee to pay, she payed for the three drinks.

‘’Ay thanks Ona.’’ Mariona said, sliding her arm around the younger player, ‘’where did we deserve that? Why are you in such a good mood this morning?’’

Ona blushed, she caught Lucy’s eyes for a second before looking back at Mariona. ‘’What, nothing.’’ She chuckled nervously, ‘’I just wanted to pay.’’

Only when Mariona let Ona go again, Lucy smiled, seemingly pulled back out of her train of thoughts, ‘’well, I think it’s nice, thank you Ona.’’ She said innocently.

‘’See, Mario.’’ Ona scrunched her nose at Mariona, ‘’some people just say thanks.’’

The three of them chuckled.

They exchanged a few lighthearted jokes while waiting for their drinks, and once they had them in hand, the conversation turned back to the flight. Unlike their usual trips, this wasn’t a private Barça plane, so there were no assigned seats.

Ona turned to Mariona. “Hey, do we know the seating situation? Are we just, like, sitting where ever we like?”

Mariona shrugged. “No assigned seats, so yeah, we can just pick wherever.”

Ona paused, glancing between Mariona and Lucy. “So… should we sit together then?” she asked, looking at Lucy, hoping to keep it casual.

Lucy, who had been mid-sip of her matcha, almost choked. “Uh… I mean, I usually sit with Mariona,” she said awkwardly, her eyes darting to Mariona.

Mariona grinned. “You two can sit together this time. I’m perfectly fine on my own.” She gave Lucy a knowing look, one that clearly said she knew everything that was going on.

Lucy’s frowned at Mariona, ‘’what?’’ she glanced back at Ona. “I mean… yeah, I guess we could sit together… if you want?”

Ona felt a strange flutter in her chest but shrugged it off, pretending like it wasn’t a big deal. “Yeah, sure. I meant, like, it makes sense since you’ve got the backpack. With both our stuff.”

Mariona chuckled to herself, clearly enjoying the subtle tension between the two. But Ona and Lucy both didn’t seem to notice how obvious they were.

Lucy shot her a glare before turning back to Ona. “Ah ofcourse, I hadn’t thought about it.”

By the time they boarded the plane, Mariona had already waved them off, finding her own seat with an amused grin. Those two sharing a bag? She wasn’t going to be saying anything, but she sure had her thoughts about it.

Lucy and Ona found two seats toward the middle of the plane, settling in with their drinks and bags.

As they got comfortable, Lucy reached into the backpack, pulling out her iPad. “I downloaded a movie for the flight,” she said.

Ona smiled. “What movie?”

“Here this one,” Lucy replied, she turned her screen towards Ona.

Ona put her hand over Lucy’s to steady the iPad so she could read the title and summary.

‘’And?’’ Lucy asked, ‘’Want to watch?’’

‘’Sure,’’ Ona said, lifting the divider between them both.

Lucy pulled out the table infront of them and prompted up the iPad. She dug through the bag and eventually held her hand out towards Ona, offering one of her AirPods. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Ona said, taking the AirPod and placing it in her ear.

As the movie started, they both leaned back, and Ona felt Lucy’s arm lightly brush against hers. It was a small, innocent touch, but it sent a jolt through her that she tried to ignore. They were just watching a movie, nothing more. And most of all, they were in a plane with the whole team and a group of staff, not the place to get comfy against Lucy.

The thoughts echoed in Ona’s mind, but she pushed it aside, focusing on the screen. Beside her, Lucy seemed equally focused, though every now and then their eyes would meet, followed by quick, nervous smiles, like neither of them wanted to acknowledge the subtle tension between them.

masterlist

[thegeminisage]

star trek update time. i am waaay behind. monday we did voy's "non sequitur" and "twisted" and tuesday we did voy's "parturition" and "persistence of vision."

non sequitur:

this one actually made me SOOO mad, like absolutely FUCKING livid, because on paper this concept sounds like it could be High Art. a complete tearjerker. harry kim, most unassuming guy ever, is, through a stroke of blind luck, transported back to earth, and instead of staying and enjoying having everything he wants, he CHOOSES to go back to the delta quadrant to be with his ship.

like, firstly, the idea that it's harry specifically - harry whose mother tried to send him his clarinet, harry who's trying to remain faithful to his girl back home, mister aw-shucks who-me who befriended tom paris out of compassion and who is new to this whole space travel thing. NOBODY could blame him for staying home with his girl and his career and his clarinet. the rest of the voyager crew, if they could have been asked, would have been SCREAMING at him to grab the chance with both hands and enjoy it twice as much for them. AND HE CHOOSES TO GO BACK. it shows grit, it shows maturity, and it shows how much he loves his crew

oh yeah bonus points for tom paris dying for harry not because i hate tom paris (i do but he's growing on me JUST a little) but because harry was the first person to ever see him as anything besides a complete and total waste of space, in whatever reality

unfortunately, we didn't get any of that shit in this episode. the girlfriend basically existed to cause problems on purpose and not in the fun way. first she blows off his break with reality and then she decides he needs help after he gets caught hacking starfleet or whatever. she doesn't trust him for a minute and none of her actions or dialogue makes ANY sense, let alone makes her endearing or someone we feel sad to see harry lose

secondly, we spent so much time on the mechanics of how harry got here and how he's gonna get back that we didn't have time for any extra drama. it was just him explaining stuff over and over and people getting increasingly mad/disbelieving about it

this episode should have had me sobbing into my hands. instead it was so boring i was reaching for solitaire on my phone. JUSTICE for harry kim. this could have been his MOMENT and instead it was a travesty. tngcore and i mean that in the meanest way possible

twisted:

kes's surprise party was sweet! i didn't love neelix being weird about her again though. NOW i see why everyone says he's so horrible...it's such a shame bc i REALLY liked him and i want to continue to like him, but he makes it hard. it's the exact same problem i had with geordi (he's fine if we keep him away from women but we can't seem to do that) and now i also understand why star trek fans want berman dead.

also, when tuvok almost touched janeway. HI HELLO

the rest of this was really boring. i feel like they did absolutely nothing for the entire episode, except when they were about to die, at which point they argued a little

i will say the doctor in the holodeck is fun though. he was so mad about that lady trying to mack on him. gay king <3

parturition:

the summary for this episode terrified me. "neelix and tom paris fight over kes and then raise a lizard baby together" felt like it was combining many of my least favorite things, aside from, of course, the lizard baby. it turned out to be ALARMINGLY watchable and even solved some of my neelix problems and some of my tom paris problems, assuming we stick with this development and don't reset it back to status quo

first, it must be said: the use of a Real Puppet for the lizard baby. inspired. 10/10. they don't make em like this anymore

secondly, i was LIVID when neelix started that fight (not to defend tom paris but he didn't even DO anything) but i WAS glad that kes got to be angry about it, even going so far as to snap at the doctor, who is innocent of all crimes in this particular instances. i'd be fed up too!!

i still kind of wish they had apologized to kes but whatever i'll take it

sorry, but they did kind of send tom paris to the yaoi cave with neelix there. no yaoi happened but there was a cave and there was co-parenting.

and it worked! once they found the baby and stopped being annoying it turned into quite a watchable episode. godmother neelix. i think tom daddy issues paris respected that he refuses to abandon it even when it would have saved their asses to do so and neelix official ship chef respected that tom paris figured out how to feed a baby. furthermore, once neelix showed an iota of self-awareness and they cleared the air i felt MUCH better about the whole situation. i really hope this is the last of neelix's jealousy and controlling behavior bc it's truly not it

persistence of vision:

this episode made me cry BUT only because i had already had a whole ass day. that said, did you guys know janeway's crew loves her. like they love her. she snaps at them and theyre like hey you need some shore leave. she skips lunch and gets gently ushered into the cafeteria. they treat her really niceys and it's not because women are weak it's because they LOVE HER!!!! maybe i cried when she was fed lunch. whose business is it

this is one of the only episodes i didn't mind the holodeck. i actually found myself weirdly invested in the novel plot. i think mr sideburns is keeping a wife in his attic if you know what i mean

the hallucinations were both fun and a little scary, especially once we got out of the holonovel. tom paris's DAD? TUVOK'S WIFE??? i wanna see his BABIES!!! his potential grandbabies!!!

ALSO, B'ELANNA AND CHAKOTAY? all this time she wanted him and he was with seska...AND she's gonna have to settle for tom paris...the fuck chart for this ship would be wild. star trek is always at its best when its doing unrestrained horniness i think

winding back to tom paris i like that he was like (to his dad) "i used to be so shitty and i don't want to be shitty anymore and fuck you and fuck my daddy issues also." like i'm reserving judgment out of an abundance of caution because i don't feel terribly optimistic at this time, but this IS a narrative that has the potential to compel me, assuming he actually does stop being shitty.

i don't even really care that we don't know if the aliens were ever actually there or not. like, nothing in that episode made sense, but it's wild how you can get away with that if your episode is funny or involves character work or has some other attribute of merit. like, literally anything. looking at you, tng

the doctor and kes always <3

i also really liked b'elanna and janeway's girl talk at the end. they could get it.

NEXT TIME: ds9's "the visitor" (thanks again to the person who warned me) and "hippocratic oath."

[dreamswapafterdark]

Took a break from writing around 10 pm, it's now almost 5 am. I spent 7 hours reading manga and finding out my two favourite characters died. I know I'm adding that into my febwhump because writing is the only way I feel emotions beside rage, happiness and panic. Can confirm I don't feel grief from the funeral I went to back before covid, people I was related to and cared about for years were gone, and I just was watching people cry, and no getting it. Think I'm going into sleep deprived rambles. But, I'm so adding Finch breaking the magic suppressants so Killer can break free and fend off Angel, even while in a weakened and traumatized state. He can still resist, so despite being broken, he still does the only thing he can to fight.

*leans in reeeeeal close*

hey wiggity woogity buddy chum friend pal want a new year confession 'cause it's gonna get pretty dark but I figure that stuff is up yo alley. so uh hi traumadumping for ideas for febwhump! no seriously a lot of traumadumping. feast to your soul's delight

Sometimes I wrote angst fics of dreamswap characters killing or harming themselves to that I wouldn't do the same. And also being able to comfort other characters, because I can't comfort other people for the life of me and there was nobody to comfort me, either irl or online.

Writing literally kept me from killing myself when I had no one and nothing but a box opener that gradually sliced me up and a bottle of pills that could have killed me. some people think my old writing is cringey and tbh I can see why but also. it's MY cringe that kept ME from dying so fuck what they think.

This latest fic I'm roleplaying with Silver along with a few roleplays with my friends kept me fuckin' sane when Disgraced Fox was rampaging with his bullshit about me being a pedophile (in the same fandom that called a 15 year old a "reverse pedophile" a few years ago... oooh funny how the tables turn) as well as sending what is basically underage revenge porn of me, a minor at the time, talking about nsfw shit abt ib//vs nsfw, to other minors. also when mxrtified, someone i found out was an old friend when i was 16, blocked me for ...some??? reason which hurt a lot back then (i also suspect the above ib//vs bullshit but at this point it's harder to care. tho back when that happened I was seriously lucky I didn't fuck myself up or worse thanks to my headmate intervening)

also fun fun funny fun fun fact! you know the people, Cottonwood and Sedona, two characters Dream talked about in Chapter 15 for TUSOUD? yeeeeeeaaaaaahhhh see, my mom murdered my dad and that was me being like "hmm I wonder what life would be like if I stayed with my mom" and that was what I came up with for why Dream decided to create a governmental/law sort of system! seriously, that fucking murder was a whole ass thing and I STILL can't believe she got away with it like she did. i mean. i was kinda still a kid and afraid of what would happen if my mom found out I talked to police because ACAB (still applies + our justice system is fucked + who the FUCK do I even begin calling + good fucking luck on them finding my mom because I fucking can't) but like. wow you wanna put that shit in a fic or something I can hook you up. also do you want ways in which I was pretty sure she could have murdered me because that was a very real reality for me a while back.

also your fic is amazing and I will kiss you (platonically bc im a trans guy n i don't think you're into that OR into me so NFERGIR) anyway I need to go to sleepytimes

[xoxo-teddybear]

Hickeys and Revenge - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, crack, swearing, fluff

Summary: Bakugou learned his lesson from his cheating prank but you weren’t satisfied quite yet. The man really almost broke you so to get back at him, you decided to pull this little masterpiece.

A/N: H/T means Hair Type!!! This is also related to this fic which you should read in order to understand the beginning of this story.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

“Mina. Get your ass over here, I need you to suck on my titts.”

—

You couldn’t hold your laughter as you demanded your best friend to come and give you hickeys over the phone.

Not too long ago, your lovely boyfriend, Bakugou Katsuki, decided to pull a little prank on you. It wasn’t uncommon. You were the type of couple to enjoy a laugh every now and then but there was only one rule. No cheating pranks, no breaking up pranks. That was all. However, after being on a losing streak, your boyfriend decided to pull a little prank that very much broke the rules. In the end, he was also hurt but at least you knew he wouldn’t be pulling anything stupid like that again.

After that, you both went back to normal. You guys were once again happy, loving, cuddly, all the good stuff. But something in the back of your mind knew you weren’t quite satisfied with Katsuki’s punishment. You decided you had to feed the flames just a bit more to have your revenge. This ended up with you pulling a little hickey prank.

Now you were a prank master! You were skilled, smart, creative, and maniacal. Things had to be just right when it came down to it. That is why instead of using makeup like anyone else would, you’re looking for real, authentic hickeys. Since you obviously can’t have your boyfriend be the one to give you these hickeys, it would have to be your bestie, Ashido Mina.

—

“What?!” Mina laughed on the other side of the phone.

“It’s for a prank! Remember Katsuki’s cheating prank?” You said with excitement.

“Yeah. The one where he failed miserably and you ended up breaking up with him until you figured out it was a prank and you guys got back together after 3 days.” She explained.

“Gee, thanks for the play by play of me almost walking out of my very happy relationship.” You sarcastically replied. “Anyway, as revenge, I’m gonna do a little hickey prank!”

“Revenge? Girl, were you not satisfied with him being devastated over your almost breakup?” She asked.

“It’s not enough!” You replied.

“Not enough? Honey, he locked himself in the house for days. Eijirou had to force him to bathe and eat. What do you mean not enough?” She explained.

“Awwww, my poor baby. Look, I know he went through shit but he caused it! I didn’t get any revenge. I’m feening for it.” You explained.

“Alright, alright,” Mina giggled. “I’ll be over in 10..you fucking sadist.”

“Thank you!”

—

Time had passed and you were expecting the arrival of your best friend any minute now. You figured it’d be fine for her to be over for a bit because Katsuki was out on his final patrol for the week. After that, you’d have him all to yourself since he’d be home for the rest of the day.

Finally, after waiting and waiting, a knock was heard from the front door. You ran to the wooden structure and opened it to be blessed with the pink sight.

“Hickey time!” Mina said in a sing-song voice. You both laughed as she came in and you pulled her to the couch. “Okay, how are we doing this.”

“Uh, I don’t know- fuck this is so weird!” You joked as you both laughed again. “Okay, ummm, I think I’ll take a few on my chest and then some on my neck.”

“Okay. Should we have them like, trail up. Do you want me to go and make it look like he went from here to here?” She said and pointed from your chest to your lips, to which you nodded. “Wow bitch, you’re bold, wearing a tube top and everything!”

“I know right!” You both laughed. You layed back and pulled your tube top down to reveal your bra. Before you started, you pulled out your phone and started recording. You needed proof to show Katsuki that this was the work of your best friend and not some rando. Finally, Mina leaned down as you both released giggles and she placed her lips on your left mound. “What the fuck, this is so weird!”

You both laughed and Mina pulled her lips away as she began dying. You both turned red in the face as tears filled your eyes due to all the laughing. You both finally settled and she began sucking on your boob.

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck,” was all you could say as you laughed. “Wow, oh my gosh, your lips are sooo soft! Kiri is getting a treat!” You teased as Mina pulled off to laugh again.

She finally created the first mark and pulled off as you both took a look at her work. “Holy shit! There’s a fucking hickey!” You said like a teenage girl.

“That’s a fucking hickey, all right.” Mina said, proud of what she had done.

“What the fuck? This is really good!” You laughed. “You’re so good at this, how often do you practice? Is there a hickey on Kirishima right now?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mina laughed. You both joked around a little more as she continued to mark you. It’s safe to say the whole procedure was quite comical.

—

“Can you like..make it darker? Like suck harder.”

*Mina sucking on your neck harder*

“Yeah, yeah. Harder. Yeah.”

—

“Ow! Did you just bite me?”

“Sorry! Instinct!”

“Ow...does it look bad?”

“It looks more believable.”

“Oh.....do it again.”

—

“This is weird...it’s like..hot when Katsuki does it though.”

“Okay, can you not talk about how you like it better when your boyfriend gives you hickeys while I’m literally swallowing your neck right now?”

—

Finally, after about 20 minutes of sucking and laughing, you were finally marked with red and purple hickeys. You looked in the mirror and were stunned with the work. You turned to face your best friend and high fived her.

Encouraging her to stay for a bit, you both spent some girl time together before she had to go due to Katsuki’s arrival approaching. After saying your farewells, you shut the door and jumped in excitement.

“Shits about to get real.”

—

You sat on the couch waiting for Katsuki’s arrival. Soon enough, the sound of his car door shutting alerted you of your boyfriend’s presence. You quickly covered your hickeys with your hair and went back in your phone to appear natural. Finally, after the sound of jingling keys, your boyfriend walked through the door with his best friend.

“Hi baby!” You said with glee as you got up and went to greet Katsuki with a kiss. He happily returned the quick peck and took note of your attire.

“The hell? Why’re you wearing this?” He asked, looking down at your tube top and spandex. You rolled your eyes knowing how he was whenever you wore clothes that exposed a little more than necessary around others.

“Because I didn’t know you were bringing Kirishima over so I stayed comfy.” You explained as Katsuki held his arms around you, grumbling about how you made a fair point.

After speaking for a little bit at the doorway, Katsuki made his way over to his best friend who had already made himself comfortable in the kitchen with a beer in his hand. The two were like brothers so it wasn’t uncommon for them to act this way in each other’s homes. While the two men were in the kitchen, you made your way up to your shared bedroom. You would rather have Katsuki see the hickeys in a private setting so that your upcoming argument wouldn’t take place in front of Kirishima.

Katsuki spent about 20 minutes down there with Kirishima before deciding to check up on you. The red head was fine with waiting in the kitchen and nodded his head at his friend when he decided to check up on you.

The blonde finally walked in through the room to see you sitting criss-crossed on the bed, looking at your phone. He shut the door as he approached you and you looked up and smiled at his arrival.

“Hi.” You said as you sat up a little straighter.

“Hey.” He said as he walked over and wrapped his arms around you before picking you up to kiss you. You both held the tiniest make out session before you settled to just holding each other, with your arms wrapped around his neck.

Katsuki joined you on the bed for a bit as you both sat together while still cuddled up. “How was your day, baby?”

“It was fine I guess. Nothing really happened. I stayed home, waiting for you dummy.” You said, trying to make Mina’s markings more noticeable. He still didn’t see them though.

“Oh yeah? Waiting for me to do what?” He smirked at you.

“Shut up, you fucking horn-dog. Waiting to spend some time with you. That’s all.” You said and Katsuki jokingly pouted.

“So you didn’t want me to come home and fuck you stupid?” He asked, pulling you into his lap.

“No. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to now.” You said in a soft voice. He chuckled softly before kissing the clean side of your neck.

“Maybe after Shitty Hair leaves,” he said before picking up his little pecks again. “I’ll do you just how I want to.”

He finally shifted over to the other side of your neck where the markings remained and he finally took notice of the work Mina had done. He paused his teasing and pulled away with a confused look in his face and furrowed his brows. He licked his thumb and reached out to wipe at the mark but silently seethed when it didn’t wipe away.

“What?” You questioned and Katsuki gently took you off his lap before standing up to pace around a bit. You walked to Katsuki in a “confused” manner before he stopped you.

“Uhhh...hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on.” He ran his hand through his hair, like he usually did in stressful situations, before looking at you.

“Uh, what- what is that? On your Uh-“ he said and tapped his neck. You went to your vanity mirror before turning to face him again. “Is that a hickey?”

‘Showtime’ you thought to yourself. “N-no. No, it’s not a hickey-“

“Then what is it?” He eagerly questioned with fear and anger laced in his voice.

“I don’t know, I was running and I fell and-“

“And what? You fell and got bruises?” He said looking at your neck and chest. He walked to you and pulled down your shirt to reveal the hickeys Mina left on your mid-chest. Katsuki shook his head and backed up, more pissed off than before. “No. No- you don’t fucking fall and get bruises on your neck and chest like that. So is it a fucking hickey?”

“No, no it’s not a hickey I swear.” You said softly, walking up to hug him but he gently stepped out of your hold. “Babe, babe-“

“Mm, no that’s definitely a fucking hickey.” He said as he chewed on his lower lip. “S’a fucking hickey.”

“No it’s not, I was using the H/T iron and I guess I burned myself-”

“Your hair is naturally H/T. Why would you need to use a H/T iron?” He said. You were stunned in silence but wanted to smile, appreciating the fact that your boyfriend knew you so well.

“Y/N are you fucking serious?!” He said, raising his voice a bit to show his anger.

“It’s not a hickey! I swear!” You said and walked to the mirror and he followed you.

“You’re fucking lying! ‘Cuz you don’t fucking get hickeys on your chest and titts randomly.” He said as you turned to walk to him, causing him to step back.

“I- I was using makeup and-“

“I swiped at it already, it’s not fucking coming off!”

“No I was like, I was fighting-“

“Fighting with what?!”

“I don’t know I just-“

“No, no! Stop! Can you stop coming towards me right now? You’re fucking lying to me and making up excuses. Those are fucking hickeys.” He said at a good distance away as tears began to fill his eyes. “Are you serious, Y/N?”

“....I’m sorry.” You quietly said. Your apology pushed his tears to flow as he dropped his head back and used his hands to wipe away his tears.

“You’re sorry? You’re not fucking sorry! You’re a fucking hoe that cheated on me while I was away. Are you fucking serious?” He said looking at you with teary eyes and a red nose. “Hurry the fuck up and just say you cheated on me!”

“No!” You whined. Katsuki laughed and rolled his neck as he wiped more tears before taking some random thing and throwing it at the wall, creating a loud sound.

“The fuck is wrong with you?! Did I do something wrong?! Tell me!” He said, shouting at you.

“No! You didn’t do anything!” You said, standing still.

“I must’ve done something! Or what? Are you just a slut that likes fucking attention? Is that why you’re okay being dressed like that around Kirishima?” He asked with an angry voice as he looked at your attire once more. He watched as you shook your head ‘no’ before his eyes dropped down to the markings on your upper body.

“Why would you do this?!” He said with a cracked voice as he openly cried now and walked to you. “I fucking love you Y/N! How could you do this to me? We’ve been together for years! I spent years of my life with you and you do this?!”

After seeing his tears and hearing his broken voice, you decided this was enough.

“Katsuki...” you softly said as you reached out for his arm. You expected the argument to go on longer but Katsuki seemed like he was heartbroken and done as he tried to walk away from your touch. “No, no Katsuki wait!”

“Get off of me.” He said trying to shake you off but you lightened your voice and coated it with giggles to assure him.

“No wait! Baby it’s a prank! It’s a prank I swear!” You said standing in front of him, pushing him deeper into the room. He turned around to avoid you but you only clung to his back. “Mina did it! Mina came and did it!”

“Baby, I swear!” You said, turning him around and keeping his front facing you

“KIRISHIMA!” He called out and soon enough, the red head came in, cautious of what was going on.

“What happened?” Kirishima softly asked in confusion. A quiet silence filled the room and all that could be heard was your boyfriend’s heavy breathing.

“I’m shaking right now.” The blonde said in your hold.

“Why?” Kirishima asked, looking to you.

“He thinks I cheated on him because I have hickeys but Mina came over earlier and did it.” You said as the red head walked into the room.

Silence filled the room once more as Kirishima inspected the scene. He looked at your hickeys, to your face, to Katsuki’s shaking body and teary eyes. “I don’t believe that.”

“You don’t believe me?” You asked him.

“Not really. I want to but why would Mina come and give you hickeys on your chest and neck?” The red head said with his hands in his pockets and head tilted to the side.

“I swear she did it, I have the footage.” You said pulling out your phone.

“No- no, this is fucking dumb. I guess we’re over.” Katsuki said and began walking to the door but you quickly pulled up the video and jumped on him. He wouldn’t turn and so you put the video in front of his face as he began to watch, alongside Kirishima.

After finishing the video, Katsuki crouched down to the ground and allowed his head to drop as he gave a relieved sigh. You laughed at him and began to hug his shoulders as Kirishima laughed in the back.

“I’m sorry baby!” You said. Bakugou surprised you with tears of joy and a smile as he quickly turned to give you a hug while he stood up and assaulted your face in quick pecks.

“Alright, well how the fuck do we get rid of these Mina marks?” Katsuki asked, wiping at your neck.

“You could do it with a cold spoon.” Kirishima interjected causing you and Katsuki to settle.

“Oh..oh yeah, you would know.” You both simultaneously said and laughed at him. The red head blushed and turned to the same shade as his hair before coming up with a comeback.

“You guys are just weird!” Kirishima embarrassingly joked before walking out of the room, laughing and going back down to his beer.

Bakugou held you in his arms and swayed you as you allowed him to kiss your face. “I’m sorry~”

“Baby, that’s so messed up!” He laughed out with a sigh as he placed his head to your own. “I almost fucking left you!”

“I know, you were so mad.” You said in a sad but laughing voice as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “But that’s what you get! Now you know how I felt when you fucking pranked me last time.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I get it, this is why we don’t pull these types of pranks.” He said.

“Exactly.” You pecked his nose before continuing. “I’m sorry.” You whispered before he placed a long and hot kiss on your lips. He picked you up as you wrapped your legs around his torso while your arms tightened around his neck.

“Aww, I feel so bad!” You whimpered as you tucked your head into his neck. “Are you mad at me?”

“No. You’re my girl.” He said with his husky voice.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You pulled your head back to peck his lips and he did the same and kissed you back. You both went in for more small pecks before you pulled away the slightest bit to make fun of him.

“You got praaaannkkkeeddd!” You said before laughing again, to which he rolled his eyes and flopped onto the bed with you in his hold.

“I’m gonna get you back.” He said with determination in his eyes.

“You’re gonna get me back?” You questioned.

“Yup.”

“No!” You giggled out.

“Mhm. I’m probably gonna cut your hair this time. Maybe throw all your makeup out the window, I don’t know.” He threatened.

“Those aren’t pranks! Those’ll actually do damage!” You said.

“Mhm!” He agreed and you both just laughed some more. You made it up to him with apology cuddles in bed for the next half hour before you both remembered you had a guest in your house. Katsuki quickly got up once he realized his friend was still in his house and went to kick the red head out.

“Why’re you making him leave?” You asked as Katsuki stood at the bedroom exit.

“Because apology cuddles aren’t enough. You’re making it up to me in another way.” He said with a wink and smirk before walking out the door. You laughed and sighed before flopping down on the bed with a blush. With his leave, you mentally began to prepare yourself for the hours of rough make-up sex that was to come.

Tag list: @sxcker4you @aomi04 @tessabrown101 @ebiharachan @is-this-ash @iris-shihabi @sxturn-stars @isolight

[helliontherapscallion]

Scientia Potentia Est (Adrenaline Junkie Part 10)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 8     Part 9     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: slight PTSD, mentions of death/dying, some description of injury/scars, slight panic attack

Word count: 2,734

(A/N): how are yall liking the story so far? 

You were woken up by the obnoxious chirping of various songbirds right outside your window. Cracking open your heavy eyes, you glanced at the clock on your wall. 7 AM. You only got about an hour of sleep. Great. 

Groaning, you reluctantly left the beckoning warmth of your comfortable blanket cocoon and stretched out your limbs. You stood up and trudged towards your luggage that laid haphazardly in the corner of your childhood room. Awkwardly twisting your body around to take off the sensors attached to your back and sliding off the prosthetic, you put it on your bed. Pulling out a random shirt and pants without giving them any real thought, you shambled off to the bathroom to shower and preen your wing. 

You stood under the warm running water for a while just doing nothing but trying to wake yourself up. The steam drifted idly throughout the room as you stepped out of the shower and finished your morning routine. You still felt dead inside even after your refreshing shower. Is this what Philza felt like in the mornings? Is this what death feels like? Oh wait. You already knew what dying felt like, you’ve died twice already and you had the scars to prove it. 

The scar on the right side of your back remained prominent and very noticable, but it faded slightly around the edges. The other scar that stretched across your cheek and stretched down to your stomach was new. They were red and raised. You remembered how you got them like it was yesterday. You, your brothers, your nephew, and Tubbo were following Eret still celebrating your win. You all completely trusted him, he was your teammate after all. Trusting him was a mistake. It was foolish. That power hungry bastard blew up everything you and your brothers built and worked for. He was a traitor to L’manberg. Everyone present lost a life in the explosion.

You shuddered, remembering the explosion. You remembered the feeling of extreme heat on your skin and the deafening boom that left a ringing in your ears. You remembered laying on the ground several feet away from your brothers’ corpses. You were the last to die that day. Everything hurt as you laid there slowly bleeding out from the deep gash running from under your eye to your midsection. The plumes of smoke floated up towards the sunny sky as everything burned around you. You hoped you would suffocate from smoke inhalation before you would bleed out again. The flames licked at your skin, almost taunting you with your oncoming death. Why couldn’t you have died instantly like everyone else? Why did you always have to die painfully?

A soft knock snapped you out of your thoughts. Looking down, you realized that you were clutching the side of the sink so hard that your knuckles were turning white. 

“(Y/n), are you in there?” It was Arthur. What was he doing up so early?

You wiped at the tears that had gathered in your eyes and cleared your throat. “Y-yeah buddy. I’ll be out in a second.”

You turned on the water faucet and splashed some cold water in your face. It somewhat worked for the blotchiness and redness, but your eyes were still puffy. You were just going to have to get out of the bathroom and pray that Arthur and Philza won’t notice. You took a deep breath and opened the door. There Arthur stood looking at you happily.

“What’re ya doing up so early bud?”

“My brother said that I’m a morning person.”

Brother?

Despite your confusion, you did your best to grin at him. “Well, early bird, do you wanna help me make breakfast?”

His eyes lit up with excitement and he jumped up and down slightly. “Yes please! I love cooking, Mama and Papa would always let me help!”

Oh, you absolutely hated not knowing something. You needed to have that chat with him as soon as you could. 

You smirked. “C’mon then, lets go get started!”

He sprinted down the hallway and towards the stairs. You felt a slight panic flare up inside of you. “Arthur, please don’t run down the stairs!”

To your great relief, he listened and slowed down to a brisk walking speed. You speedwalked over to him. For someone so little, he was surprisingly fast. By the time you reached the bottom of the stairs, he was already in the kitchen. 

In the kitchen, Philza was sitting at the table with a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. As per usual, he looked like he’d rather go back to sleep. You walked over to the coffee maker and poured yourself a cup, you were going to need it. Philza’s tired eyes followed you as you poured the steaming liquid into your mug.

“Tired?” His voice was raspier and deeper than usual.

“Yeah, didn’t get much sleep last night.” You sipped at the bitter drink before wrinkling your nose and stirring in an ungodly amount of sugar. Sipping it again, you sighed in content. That was much better. 

You walked to the chest and pulled out some bacon strips, eggs, and bread. Setting them on the counter, you turned to Arthur. He was standing on his tiptoes trying to clearly see over the counter. You chuckled, pulling a chair out from the table and dragging it over to him so he could stand on it. 

“Don’t get too excited kid, we have to wash our hands first. Then we can get to the fun part.”

Arthur scrambled over to the sink, pulling his chair along with him. Though he was extremely excited, he actually took the time to properly wash his hands. Once you both were clean, you both got to cooking. You let him scramble the eggs and butter the toast while you did the rest of the work. You didn’t want him to get burned, especially by the bacon grease. 

Cooking was quickly done with Arthur’s help and before you knew it, breakfast was already halfway done. Over the course of eating, Philza was slowly waking up and adding his own input into the conversation. You were hardly paying attention when Arthur asked you a question.

“Hey, (y/n), where’s your wing?” 

“Hm?”

“The fake one.”

Your eyes widened. Shit, you forgot to put it back on after your shower. You suddenly felt every single little touch on your amputated wing. The chair, a light breeze from the open window, the brush of feathers from your complete wing, everything. You felt vulnerable and naked without it on. You felt powerless. 

“Oh, I- must’ve forgot to put it back on again. Excuse me.”

You stood up from your chair, a screech resounding from the legs scratching against the floor. Taking care of your half-eaten breakfast, you tried to hurry up to your room as fast as you could scolding yourself the entire way for being so forgetful. So stupid. 

You locked the door behind you and saw your silver wing laying on your bed staring at you, as if taunting you for leaving it behind. You rushed to put it back on. Though you felt your muscles tense up because of the sudden cool, it felt incredibly relieving to have your wing back on. You felt whole. 

You awkwardly twisted around to fasten the leather belts around the base of your amputated wing and attach the sensors back onto specific spots on your back where your flight muscles were. You put one on your deltoid, one on your trapezius, one on both teres muscles, one on your infraspinatus, and lastly two on your latissimus dorsi muscle. It usually took you at least thirty minutes of testing the prosthetic’s movements and moving the sensors around slightly to get the placement of the sensors exactly correct, so you assumed that breakfast was over and done with ten minutes ago. 

Your wing was finally connected and fully functional, so you left your room in search for Arthur. You eventually found him in the basement in your old workshop looking through your filing cabinet of blueprints. He mustn't have heard you come down the stairs because he didn’t react. He just kept looking through your old papers, pulling a few out and putting them on a nearby crafting table. 

“Arthur?”

He jumped, the paper he was in the middle of pulling out slipped back into its place inside the filing cabinet. He didn’t turn around to face you at first, so you thought that he was just trying to catch his breath from your little scare. Feeling bad, you walked closer and put a tentative hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m sorry for scaring you. What’re ya doin?”

“I-I’m looking at your old inventions, Philza let me come down here to look at them while he tried to find me more clothes I could wear that fit.”

“Buddy, you should’ve waited until I put my wing back on, I could’ve shown you my prized inventions.”

He looked down to his feet. “I’m sorry (y/n), I just really wanted to see them and you were taking so long. I couldn’t wait.”

You frowned, putting a finger under his chin and making him look at you. You saw guilt darkening his eyes. “Arthur, never say sorry for wanting knowledge. Knowledge is perhaps our greatest weapon against the unknown in the universe. I want you to remember the phrase ‘scientia potentia est’.”

He sniffled. “Scientia… potentia est?”

“Yes, it means ‘knowledge is power’. Knowledge and power are two very… wide subjects, which is why I like the phrase. In a way, it means that you could pull off anything with knowledge. A lot of inventors live by that motto. Personally, it’s a motto that I swear by. Having knowledge gets me out of a lot of sticky situations,” you kindly smiled at him. “Now, do you want me to show you how my prosthetic works? I could even show you the first prototype if you’d like.”

To your delight, the smile that you often saw him wearing quickly returned and he nodded vigorously. You could get used to people wanting to know how your inventions work and why they worked the way that they did. You spent the next two hours explaining and answering questions about your prosthetic. You let him hold and examine your old leather wing. You showed him how the sensors were placed and warned him that if they were even very very slightly off, the wing wouldn’t work right. You even let him craft a sensor with you. 

“So, do you have any interest in being an inventor when you grow up?”

“Yes, I wanna be just like you! You’re like, the bestest inventor ever!”

You took a deep breath, kneeling in front of him and placing your hands on his shoulders. “Arthur, would you like to become my protégé?”

He scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes in confusion. “Your what?”

You lightly laughed. “Do you know what an apprentice is?” He shook his head. “Well, I want to take you under my wing. Teach you everything I know.”

His eyes comically stretched and his mouth gaped open and closed like a fish out of water. If it were possible, you’d imagine stars shining in his eyes. “You’d do that?”

“Naturally. You’re perhaps the most ambitious person I’ve ever met in terms of your goals, and at such a young age too. I’ve never met anybody besides fellow innovators that actually wants to know how my inventions are made. It’s refreshing in a sense. Would you accept me being your mentor?”

“I- yes! Yes, yes! A million, no, a billion times yes! Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” He cheered, squealing with delight and jumping up and down. 

You laughed. “Woah there bud, cool your jets. We have work to do, but first…” you sighed. You really didn’t want to ruin his moment, but you needed to talk to him about this if he were to become your apprentice.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes still wide with excitement. “First what?” “First… we need to talk. About your story, I mean.”

“What do you mean? We are talking.”

“No, not like that. We need to talk about your family. And how you want me to help you with The Warden.”

He visibly deflated, you didn’t think it was possible for someone to change moods so quickly. It was almost unnatural how fast he switched emotions. “Oh… Do we have to?”

“Yes, Arthur. We have to trust each other if we’re gonna work together.”

He shifted on the balls of his feet and fiddled with his thumbs. He looked very anxious to talk about his family.

“If you want, I can show you where I go to relax and think. Would you like that?”

He nodded and wiped at his eyes. You grabbed his hand and led him up the stairs. Since Philza was out, you wrote him a little note and put it on the table where he should see it right away if he came back before you two. You grabbed your satchel and filled it with two glass vials of water, a few snacks, and a blanket. Arthur just stared at you confusedly. 

You led him outside and hesitated. Should you ask him if he wanted to fly? It would be a lot faster to get there. “Arthur, would you like to fly there? I know it’s scary, but once you get used to it it’s so much fun!”

He reluctantly nodded, so you bent over and wrapped your arms around him to pick him up. You felt him tense up as you prepped for take off. “Hold on tight, I promise I won’t drop you.”

You pushed yourself off from the ground with a powerful flap of your wings causing Arthur to shriek in surprise. You and Arthur shot into the sky at a moderate speed. When you steadied yourself high above the treeline, you looked down at the boy in your arms. He had his eyes tightly closed and he was shaking slightly. “Arthur, you can open your eyes now.”

You watched as he peeked one of his eyes open and looked at you, you smiled encouragingly at him. “Go ahead, look around.” He observed his surroundings with caution before he opened his other eye. He was looking around in amazement, taking in every single detail from a bird’s eye view. You snorted before redirecting your attention back to flying. You needed to pay attention, especially when you had a passenger that would carry on your legacy after you die. 

The flight went by with Arthur giggling at various mobs below and sometimes pointing out something he thought was interesting to you. Your destination was now several meters ahead of you. Landing, you set Arthur down steadying him when he stumbled a little.

You took out the blanket and spread it across the grassy ground, smoothing it out. You beckoned Arthur to sit down next to you on it and you two overlooked the boundless expanse of the grassy plains. 

“This is where I came up with most of my inventions. It’s where I first tested my prosthetic. There’s where I jumped off.”

“How’d you know it worked?”

“I didn’t before I tested it. Looking back, it was stupid of me to do. Never, ever, do what I did.”

“What if-”

“No what if’s. Consult me before you test out anything dangerous in the future. I mean it, Arthur.”

“But I want to be like you.”

“Trust me kid, you don’t wanna be exactly like me. Besides, you’re you. You’re not (y/n) Minecraft. You’re Arthur Fox. You’re your own person and it’s important for you to understand that. Never let anyone take that away from you.”

He fell silent as he contemplated your words. You assumed that nobody’s ever told him that before, both due to his young age and potential lack of adult figures in his life. 

“Artie, you can tell me about your life when you’re ready. Take as much time as you need, we still have half the day left before we have to start heading back.”

He wordlessly nodded, turning his gaze to stare blankly past the cliff. In the meantime, you would wait patiently until he felt comfortable telling you.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added): 

@acecarddraws  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional�� @used-avocado  @laura--444  @wing-non  @lovely-echoo  @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual  @mysteryartisticwriter

[novoaa1writes]

candles

image source

pairing(s): dark!wanda maximoff x reader

summary:

you’ve been feeling strange for the past month, particularly when it comes to dating. 

you do your best to ignore it, thinking it’ll resolve itself on its own—given time, that is.

it doesn’t. 

(and it’s got everything to do with wanda.)

[also available on ao3]

word count: ~5,300

rating: mature

warnings: dark!wanda, NON-CON spanking (with a belt), NON-CON BDSM play, mental manipulation, partial mind control, emotional manipulation, mental coercion, trauma bonding, toxic dynamics, drinking, possessive!wanda, non-con mind-reading, vandalism, adultery (not in reference to you or wanda), brief instances of slut-shaming

notes: [requested by anon] reader’s sexuality isn’t explicitly stated, but ex-partners of different genders are referenced/mentioned

— —

wanda uses a couple bulgarian terms of endearment for reader here, so below is a lil’ list in the order of which they appear.

принцеса | printsesa | princess [feminine term of endearment] мила | mila | honey [feminine term of endearment] любима | lubima | sweetheart [feminine term of endearment]

*note: all of these are exactly one letter away from being precise matches to synonymous terms in russian. HOWEVER, the bulgarian alphabet and the russian alphabet are different—granted, in fairly minor ways. for one, while both are comprised of cyrillic lettering, russian has 33 while bulgarian only has 30.  

— —

You have no fucking clue what’d gotten into you. 

One moment, things were fine—good, even. And the next… well. 

You’ll explain. 

It was something like 11:30 on a Saturday night, and you were drunk. 

Well, not drunk. More like buzzed. 

But whatever, right? Considering the week you’d had, you deserved to let loose, even if only for a night. 

Monday night saw a very angry and decidedly unhinged soccer mom banging on your door, screeching vehemently about the ‘two-faced slut’ who ruined her marriage and demanding to be let in so that she could ‘make her sorry.’ Turns out, the older guy your roommate had been sleeping with as of late was married—not that he’d bothered to share that particular bit of information with her, obviously. 

The two of you spent the better part of the evening barricaded inside, passing a bottle of cheap wine back and forth while trying to explain to the 911 operator that you weren’t messing around, that there really was an angry soccer mom on your doorstep and you were actively fearing for your safety. 

She eventually left around 10:00pm—no thanks to the police, since the 911 operator hadn’t even bothered to give them a call. It wasn’t until the next morning when you left for work that you saw the woman’s parting gift to the pair of you: the word ‘HOMEWRECKER’ spray-painted across the front door in obnoxious red lettering. 

Bye-bye, security deposit. 

That same night, you made your roommate promise to start dating people in a similar age range—because really, the both of you were stressed enough as it was without worrying about coming in between yet another middle-aged couple’s dying marriage. 

The rest of the week wasn’t much better. 

On Thursday, your balding creep of a boss had made yet another blatant pass at you in the workplace, making you seriously consider (and not for the first time) the prospect of just quitting and being done with it. 

Then, at shit o’clock on a Friday morning, you awoke to an urgent phone call informing you that an ex of yours (one you were actually on semi-decent terms with) had gotten into a fairly serious car accident, and still had you marked down as her emergency contact. 

30 minutes later found you showing up at the hospital just moments after your ex’s current girlfriend had arrived, which then prompted the whole ‘you still being your ex’s emergency contact’ revelation when the current girlfriend demanded to know what you were doing there, which ended up being… well, you’ll just say it wasn’t pretty, and leave it at that. 

And your ex was going to be completely fine, anyways. She just had some minor cuts and abrasions, and would need to undergo a fairly minor (read: minimally invasive) surgery over the next couple days. 

Before leaving, you instigated a quick check-in with the doctors to ensure they had everything they needed—which then turned into you providing a list of allergies, as your ex wouldn’t likely be conscious for another couple of hours, and apparently the current girlfriend didn’t know of her sensitivities to penicillin and phenobarbital… which the current girlfriend was less than happy about, if the daggers she glared at you were any indication. 

Whatever. You were just trying to help. 

You thanked the doctors, told them to feel free to call you if anything went awry, then asked if they might tell your ex to call you when she awoke. You thought about offering some words of comfort to the current girlfriend as she sat vigil at your ex’s bedside, but the murderous glower she shot you the moment you got within ten feet of her was more than enough to make you think better of it. 

With that, you left. 

So… yeah. It’d been a shitty week. 

And now, here you were: a girls’ night out at the lively nightclub you and your roommate had scoped out just last weekend, tossing back $12 cocktails and letting the trashy EDM beat blaring over the speakers drown out the rest of your thoughts. 

You’d been feeling a little weird all week—all month, really. 

As far as you were concerned, this was exactly what the doctor had ordered.

 So, when a cute guy wearing black jeans and a white T-shirt that was at least a couple sizes too big yet did well to compliment his well-muscled torso came up to you and started chatting you up at the bar, you didn’t blow him off.

The exact opposite, in fact.

He was nice, and funny, and had a gorgeous smile that made your chest feel warm for reasons that had nothing to do with the alcohol. When he flirted with you, you flirted right back. 

You felt a little guilty for doing so, though you couldn’t exactly put a finger on why that was. Either way, you didn’t allow yourself to dwell on it for very long. 

After all, you’d been feeling hints of that for the past month, if not longer. It seemed to happen whenever you flirted with a cute guy, or went out on another Tinder date with a pretty girl, or even hugged one of your close friends. 

You’d get this painful tightening sensation in your gut, nausea roiling in your abdomen… a distant, lofty voice in your head telling you that this was wrong, that you already belonged to someone else. 

Which was pointless, really. Stupid. 

You were single. 

Your last serious relationship (barring the one with your now-hospitalized ex-girlfriend) had been over seven months ago with an eccentric guy named Lukas. He was kind, well-meaning… a bit of a dork at his very core, but you always found that more endearing than anything else. You’d dated him for four and a half months before deciding to break it off; because as much as you cared for him and enjoyed being around him, you didn’t love him, and you knew by then that you never would. 

You thought about him, from time to time—even missed him now and again.

And yet, the strangest thing about the shameful feeling you’d get whenever your roommate so much as brushed a friendly kiss up against your cheek—it had absolutely nothing to do with Lukas. 

You didn’t know how you knew that, but you did. 

Whatever.

This guy was not Lukas. 

His name was Des—short for Desmond, you learned over your fourth sugary-sweet cocktail of the night. He was charming and slightly foul-mouthed, but conscientious and passably polite where it mattered. He didn’t grope your ass or stare at your tits, nor did he make any lewd commentary about your body in any capacity. 

He also smelled… really good, like Old Spice and spearmint gum and the barest hint of cigarette smoke. 

That was more than enough for you. 

(Whatever, alright? Decent guys were in short supply these days.)

You smiled and let him buy you another drink, even after you’d insisted that he really, really didn’t have to. And when an obnoxious pop song with a beat that was far more catchy than you’d have liked to admit came over the speakers, you let him coax you out to the dance floor with minimal resistance. 

It was… fun. You liked the way his hands rested on either of your hips—gentle, almost careful; holding you like he understood he didn’t have a right to your body, like he was more than content that you allowed him this to even think of demanding any more.

Despite the twinges of guilt flaring in your gut, you let yourself get a little more comfortable… dancing closer and closer to him amidst a packed crowd of writhing bodies, letting your breasts graze up against his chest. 

It was teasing—provocative, even. A test, of sorts—one that Des passed with flying colors. 

He didn’t do a thing to rush you, just kept dancing across from you with his hands on your hips and his darkened gaze on yours—seeming fully content to let you set the pace for the moment. And God, but the way he was looking at you… patient but eager, like he wanted nothing more than to crush your body against his own and grind himself into you like an animal—and yet, still, he held himself back. 

You couldn’t help but find that attractive as hell. 

Looping your arms around his neck, you let your body to press flush against his as you swayed to the beat of the song, not shying away from the slight stiffness you could feel growing against your hip. 

That guilty, nauseous feeling in your gut pulled tighter. 

You ignored it, and, when he leaned a little closer to shout over the deafening music, “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”... well. 

You wasted absolutely no time in lunging up on the tips of your toes to capture his lips in a messy open-mouthed kiss, the strobe lights of the club fading into obscurity around you. His lips were warm and gentle against yours—tentative, at first, until you pressed a little harder and traced the seam of his lips with your tongue… and, yeah; that did the trick. 

A moment later, his lips parted to let out a quiet groan directly into your mouth as he began to reciprocate in earnest, setting every nerve ending on your body alight with electrifying want. 

And that’s when it happened. 

Seemingly out of nowhere, a twisted sort of clarity hit you square in the chest—slowly, and then all at once. 

The next bits were something of a blur. 

You tore yourself away from Des, turned to forcibly elbow your way through a floor of grinding bodies. You thought you heard him call out your name, and more than a couple people on the dancefloor turned to glare at you as you rudely brushed past them without care—but, whatever. 

You texted… someone, telling them you were headed back to the apartment, so they shouldn’t bother waiting up. The group chat, maybe? 

And now… Now. 

Before you can blink, the past crashes into the present, and you find yourself back outside in the pitch-black night. 

It’s dark… chilly. A brisk wind catches you the moment you stumble out onto the sidewalk, assaulting every inch of your exposed skin like scores of needles piercing your flesh. You whimper, shudder, and hug your arms around your body—trying to warm yourself back up like a scared little kid who forgot their jacket. 

For the first time that night, you regret the tiny black babydoll dress you’d chosen to wear for the evening—and that’s not even to mention the four-inch heels. 

It’s miserable, to be sure, but you can hardly focus on it for very long. 

No, you have to go somewhere. You feel sick, and cold, and wrong in a way you’re loath to even begin explaining to anyone else. 

And your head… you’re positively aching for something—someone to make this better.

You need… Wanda. 

Yes, Wanda is the person you’re looking for. She can make all of this better. 

You don’t know why, but you’re sure of it. You just need to find her. Hopefully she’s spending the night in her apartment on that super cozy sofa of hers, drinking hot chocolate and binge-watching something on Netflix like the two of you did a couple weeks back. 

A fond grin curves your lips at the recollection as you stumble off down the sidewalk, headed for the nearest subway station. 

Another wintry gust of wind hits you square in the chest, and you pinch your forearm hard, silently willing yourself to focus. 

The station should be less than a block down, if you’re remembering correctly. 

At the next street corner, you manage to brandish your pepper spray in one hand while you rummage around in your purse for your MetroCard with the other. 

It’s cold as hell, and you’re probably a little too drunk to be walking through the City streets alone right now, but you don’t much care. 

All you gotta do is find Wanda. That’s all. 

She’ll make everything better again. 

— —

Where everything else is confusing, there’s one part that seems to make sense—Wanda. 

You nearly pick a fight with the card reader at the subway entrance when it makes you swipe your card three times to let you through, and even the stairs leading down to the lower tracks are more of a challenge than they probably should be… and yet, somehow, the rest of it is blessedly simple. A no-brainer, really.  

You know which train you need to take… the blue one that arrives in four minutes. You know you need to stay on it for five stops before getting off. 

Once you’re up at ground level, you’ll have a short walk ahead of you—one that you know like the back of your hand despite only ever having been to Wanda’s a couple of times. 

You’ll enter Wanda’s apartment building, take the elevator right up to floor four, and boom! Home free. 

You do exactly that.

It takes a short time (thankfully) and there’s not an ounce of uncertainty within you all the while, like you’ve done this 100 times before.  

In seemingly no time at all, you’re there—standing on Wanda’s doorstep, knocking a couple times just beneath the burnished bronze ‘4A’ nailed into her door. 

Your head feels all light and dizzy; you’re still shuddering from the time you spent out in the cold; but—

“One sec!” Wanda’s muffled voice comes from inside, the mere sound of it washing over you like a soothing balm—promising relief. 

You’re safe now. 

You made it.  

— —

The moment the door swings open to reveal a bleary-eyed Wanda Maximoff dressed in tiny grey pajama shorts, an oversized Star Trek T-shirt, and nothing else, it’s like everything falls back into place. 

It’s like… like you can breathe again.

You’re still drunk, and shivering, and more than a bit confused; but now that Wanda’s awake and here and smirking like she knows exactly what’s happening even if you don’t, you feel… better, somehow. Not nearly so lost as you were before. 

“Y/N,” Wanda greets, stepping aside and offering out a hand to help you inside. You’re quick to take it. “I was not expecting you,” she drawls, though everything about her demeanor is saying the opposite as she shuts and locks the door behind you. 

You pay it little mind. “Yeah, I... ” you trail off, turning to face her even as an embarrassed flush warms your cheeks. All of a sudden, you can’t help but feel rather ridiculous for knocking on her door and barging in so late—especially without calling first. “I’m so sorry, I...  I don’t know why I’m here.”

Wanda just tilts her head, appraising you curiously even as the ghost of a knowing smile curves her lips. “Are you sure about that?”

The heat in your cheeks seems to intensify tenfold at that. “I… I need to tell you something,” you hear yourself say, and the moment it’s registered, you realize that it’s true. 

You feel… guilty, all of a sudden. Nauseous, too. Scared. 

You danced with that guy—Des. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… You kissed him. Why would you do that?

In the present moment, Wanda nods, like that makes perfect sense. Like all of this makes perfect sense. 

“Okay,” she acquiesces lightly, flares of crimson flitting through her measured gaze. “Is it something I’ll have to punish you for?”

‘Punish’ me? What—?

You feel Wanda’s presence in your head… inconspicuous tendrils sifting through your thoughts, worming their way through your scattered memories. 

No point in lying. 

“Y-Yes,” you hear yourself say. Much like earlier, it isn’t until the moment you’ve confirmed it aloud that you know it to be true. You danced with someone else. You flirted with him. You let him touch you… kiss you. “I… I’m so sorry, Wanda; I-I don’t know what I was thinking.”

You see the moment Wanda finds it—your memories of the nightclub. Meeting Des at the bar. Flirting with him… Kissing him. 

The look on her pretty features goes from bemused to disbelieving to absolutely murderous in zero seconds flat, and the realization hits like a freight train that you’re really in for it now. 

Fuck. 

“Go to the bedroom,” she snarls, her typically blue-green eyes burning with scarlet light. “Then take off that slutty dress. I want you on the bed, face down, naked. Do you understand?”

Your head is spinning; confusion rears its ugly head in your gut even as every ounce of your being screams at you to just obey—‘cause if you can just do that, the rest of it will start to make sense. (Maybe.) “O-Okay.”

— — 

You don’t know how you know the way to Wanda’s bedroom, but you do. 

You slip inside a room shrouded in darkness, and no matter how it strains your eyes to look around, you don’t dare turn on the light. 

It’s a modestly-sized bedroom with hardwood flooring, fairy lights along one wall, and an adjoining bathroom just opposite the entrance. There’s a tall, wooden dresser pressed up against the wall directly across from a large, king-sized bed. That’s pretty much all the detail you can manage to make out in the darkness.

Well, either way, you suppose it isn’t really your business. 

Wanda gave you specific instructions, and you intend to follow them. 

Not for the first time tonight, you’re quite happy about the babydoll dress you’re wearing—particularly for how easy it is to pull it up over your head and off, leaving you in panties and a strapless bra in a matter of moments. 

You fold the dress neatly in your hands, then leave it atop the dresser. Your panties and bra come next. In seconds, you’ve formed a small, tidy pile. 

As you step out of your heels and approach the neatly-made bed, you’re struck with the strangest sense of déjà vu… like you’ve done this before.

It lingers in the forefront of your mind as you crawl up onto the bed, biting back a groan at how easily the plush mattress gives way under your hands and knees. 

God, you’d kill to have a nice nap in this absolute cloud of a bed.

You shake the thought off, simultaneously willing the haze of intoxication fogging up your brain to abate.

You’re not here to nap. 

You settle face-down onto the bed, just like Wanda said. You’re careful not to rest your face on the pillows, though, since you have the distinct feeling that’s not something Wanda would want you doing without permission.

Instead, you fold your arms and rest your head atop your forearm, staring straight down into nothing. You scrunch up your features and let out a quiet huff as the black duvet tickles the tip of your nose. 

It smells like her—all of it does. Cinnamon, vanilla, and something indefinable; something that belongs to Wanda, and Wanda alone. 

You feel your body stiffen as a familiar set of footsteps draw near, approaching the room where you lie—naked and vulnerable atop Wanda’s bed.

The patter of Wanda’s gait becomes almost soundless as she enters, circling around the bed over towards the nightstand. You don’t dare to turn your head and watch as she pulls out one of the drawers, rummaging through it until she finds… well, whatever it is she’s looking for, you suppose. 

A moment later, there’s the telltale chk! of a match being struck, and a hiss as the phosphorous tip lights itself aflame. 

It’s quiet for a minute... then two. The only sounds you can hear are your breathing and the strike of a match every time Wanda lights another. 

Gradually, gentle flares of light grow in your periphery, bathing the room in a dim, yellow-y glow. She’s lighting candles—a lot of them. 

You’ve always loved candles. 

A couple minutes later, she’s finished, and she returns to tuck the matchbox safely back in the drawer. 

You lose track of her as she retreats once more, and your mounting curiosity is more than piqued when you hear her rummaging through the dresser near the foot of the bed; still, you don’t dare turn and look. 

Instead, you wait, fetid nausea churning low in your gut, pinpricks of apprehension dancing across every inch of exposed skin. Your heart thuds painfully against your ribcage as she takes something out from the dresser drawer, then shuts it with an audible thud!

You swallow the lump in your throat and urge yourself to focus on your breathing. 

In, out. 

In, out. 

In… out.

“I’m disappointed in you, Y/N,” Wanda’s voice comes from somewhere behind you, genuine hurt coloring her hushed tone. 

You have to fight the urge to shudder as a chill runs down your spine. “I… I’m sorry, Wanda,” you say meekly, pathetically, cheeks hot with shame. 

And the worst part? You’re not lying. 

You listen carefully for the sounds of her bare feet padding across the floor as she circles the bed once more, crouching down right beside you in the very corner of your periphery. 

“Look at me,” she orders, gentle yet firm. 

You do. 

The moment you meet her gaze, you can’t help the errant thought entering your mind that she looks so pretty like this—face bare of makeup; long brown hair piled into a messy bun atop her head; dainty features cast into darkened shadows by the low, yellow light of burning candles clustered together atop the nightstand. 

The muted light seems to soften her anger, her pain… allowing her to really look her age for the very first time since you’ve known her. 

“You think too loudly, Y/N.” Wanda’s words are dry, almost teasing as they jolt you back into reality. “Focus on me, please.”

You do. 

“You belong to me,” she asserts after a beat of silence, an uncharacteristically intent and almost solemn look splayed across her dimly-lit features. “I thought you understood that.”

The words confuse you even as they seem to resonate poignantly with some fundamental part of you… a part of you that categorically refuses to be ignored. 

“Wanda…” you trail off, bewilderment and contrition warring violently within your chest until it aches to draw breath. “I’m confused, Wanda,” you whimper out finally, overwhelmed tears burning in your eyes. “I-I-I don’t understand what’s happening—” 

Wanda cuts you off with a derisive snort. “Yes, clearly,” she agrees, her tone ripe with sardonic ire. “You’ve forgotten yourself. You’ve forgotten who owns you.”

You worry your lower lip between your teeth, desperately trying to make sense of it all. “Is that why…” You search Wanda’s eyes intently. “... I-I felt sick, an-and… guilty about dancing with Des.”

Something like anger flares in her gaze, hot and bitter, and you have to resist the urge to shrivel beneath it. “That boy had no right to touch what’s rightfully mine.”

“B-But then… why didn’t I remember?” you ask, utterly forlorn. “I-I felt it last weekend, too, but I… I didn’t—” 

“Last weekend?” Wanda repeats, features hardening.

Oh, shit. You feel your cheeks get hot again. “I… I shouldn’t have brought it up, Wan’, I’m sorry—”

“What happened last weekend?” she interjects, her tone cold and hard like a double-edged blade. “You can tell me yourself, or I can start looking.”

You shiver. “I… I went on a-a… a date with a girl that I met online,” you admit, tears welling in your eyes even as Wanda’s jaw visibly tightens. “I-It was just the one time! A-And nothing happened; we didn’t even k-kiss! I just… I didn’t… I didn’t know—”

“Yes. You’re right; you didn’t know.” Wanda stands abruptly, then, and it’s at that moment that you see the folded belt in her hands—thick, worn leather with a sterling silver buckle. 

An icy sense of dread blossoms in your chest, chilling you from the inside out. 

Is she going to—? 

“I was indulgent before… I let you get away with far too much. I will not make the same mistake again.”

With that, she turns to circle back around the bed, the belt buckle audibly jangling in her hands with every step. 

“I have to punish you, принцеса,” she continues, her voice scarcely more than a whisper as she comes to stand near the foot of the bed—and somehow, you know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there’s no convincing her otherwise. 

She’s going to punish you, and it’s going to hurt. Bad. 

All at once, panic seizes you. You squirm, writhing in an effort to get up and off the bed—

Only to be stopped by tendrils of lurid crimson curling around either wrist, forcing them together just over your head like magic—glowing crimson cuffs holding both arms fast to the headboard. On a whim, you test your legs—tensing and pulling, only to be met with iron-clad resistance encircling either ankle in a tight, unrelenting grip. 

Well, fuck.

“W-Wanda,” you plead, hardly paying any mind to the way your voice trembles. “Please, I—I don’t want—”

“I do not enjoy punishing you, мила,” she laments, almost sounding genuinely apologetic. It tugs at your heartstrings in a curious way—something you really don’t have time to examine right now. “But you did something bad. And when you do bad things, there are consequences. You understand that, don’t you?”

A tear trickles down your cheek, warm and wet as you steel yourself for the first hit. “Y-Yes.”

“Good girl,” Wanda lauds, and you can’t help the surge of warmth that washes over you at the simple praise—the pride that blooms in your chest at knowing you’ve finally done something right. “Now—try and relax, принцеса, okay?”

It’s all the warning you get before the first blow comes down upon your bare arse with a resounding Crack!

White-hot pain flares across your bottom, racing up your spine like wildfire and tearing a strangled whimper from your throat. 

Jesus fucking Christ, that hurt—

Crack!

Crack!

Holy fuck. 

The impact of the leather against your naked cheeks leaves strips of fire burning in its wake, expelling all the air from your lungs in a choked-out rush. 

“P-Please, no, Wan’,” you beg breathlessly, struggling in vain even as coils of vibrant scarlet hold you fast, “it hurts, please—”

Crack!

“This is for your own good, baby,” Wanda coos, sounding for all the world as though she truly believes every word of it. 

Crack! This one lands directly across your sit spot, ripping a shriek from your lips as molten agony rocks you to your core. 

“Wan’—Fuck, please, no—”

Crack!

“G—God, fuck, pleasestop, please—”

Crack!

“P—Please, hurtssobad, I’m—”

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

Crack!

“FUCK !”

Tears stream down your cheeks, wetting the black duvet beneath your face. You’re absolutely beside yourself with torment, your bare ass aflame with a pain unlike any you’ve ever known. 

Crack!

Crack!

… And the hits just keep coming—raining down stripes of blistering heat across your sore, bruised buttocks; pummeling your throbbing, exposed rear until it feels as though the entire area has just become one puffy, pulsating bruise. 

Crack!

All the fight has completely gone out of you; now, your body completely slack—devoid of any resistance even as every hit seems to sear itself into your impossibly tender bottom like a third-degree burn… The pain is absolutely incredible, unlike any else you’ve ever known.

You’ll do anything—and you really do mean anything—to make it stop. 

“P-P-Please, stop it, Wanda, PLEASE—”

Crack! Another hit directly across your burning sit spot rips a watery sob from your throat, followed by—  

Crack!

Crack!

It’s all you can do to keep yourself from hyperventilating until you pass out. 

Crack!

Agony blackens the edge of your vision, fresh tears streaking down your cheeks as you await another strike… 

But it doesn’t come. 

Wh—?

“Have you learned your lesson, мила?” Wanda asks, and this time, her voice comes from closer… like she’s right beside you. 

You don’t have it in you to be startled when a feather-light kiss lands itself between your shoulder blades, nor when one hand begins stroking up and down your heaving torso in soothing motions. 

“Y-Yes! I—please, God, yes,” you babble, overwhelmed by the sensation of unadulterated pain branding every inch of your battered arse. “I promise I’ll never, ever, ever do it again, Wan’—Won’t ever be with anyone else—jus-just please stop hurting me—I’ll be so good, please—”

“Shh,” Wanda shushes you tenderly. You feel yourself twitch as the mattress suddenly dips beside you. “It’s okay, любима,” she soothes, coming to rest beside you. “Just breathe, okay? Breathe.”

‘Breathe’...

Your pulse thunders in your ears; your ass is on fire with an anguish far beyond your years; and yet, there’s something undoubtedly soothing about her words as they wash over you in gentle waves… something that tells you you’re safe.  

Were you a little more lucid, you might’ve found that quite the nonsensical paradox—this feeling of safety and security with the woman who’d just beaten your arse raw without mercy no matter how you wailed and sobbed and begged for her to stop. 

But as it is, you’re not. 

Instead, you’re just broken and teary-eyed and in pain, and Wanda’s tenderness is a most welcome respite to alleviate that excruciating ache. 

You take a deep, shuddering breath, even if it burns your lungs something awful, and force yourself to let it out slowly. 

In, out. 

In, out.

In… out.

“That’s it, мила,” Wanda praises gently, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “You’re doing so well… Just like that.” Her fingers come to rest beneath your chin, urging you to turn and face her…

And you do, far too exhausted to even think of doing anything other than what she tells you to. Your lungs burn; your nose runs; and the pain in your bottom hasn’t abated any—if anything, it’s intensified.

You’re more than happy to be given something else to focus on.  

When you look at her, her blue-green eyes are wet—glossy with tears.

“Wanda?” you manage weakly, feeling your brow crease with worry. “You ‘kay?”

Wanda sniffles, huffs out a watery-sounding laugh. “Yes, Y/N, I’m alright,” she whispers, then leans forth to plant a gentle kiss upon the tip of your nose. “I’m just so very, very proud of you.”

Despite yourself, you feel a pleased flush spread throughout your body at that. “Really?” you mumble, exhaustion drooping your eyelids until it’s a challenge just to keep them open. 

Wanda nods, a tear sliding out of her eye that you yearn to reach forth and catch with your thumb—but alas, you’re far too weak. “Really.” 

You hum, burrowing your face further into the duvet beneath your cheek—even if it is still damp with your tears. “‘M sorry I was bad, Wan’,” you murmur, feeling darkness near on every side. “Didn’t mean’ta make you upset.”

“I don’t like punishing you, принцеса,” she says once more, and this time, you have no reason to doubt that she means it. Honestly, you don’t know how you ever could. “It hurts me just as much as it hurts you.”

You hum again. Your eyelids feel too heavy to open. “‘M sorry,” you say. “Gonna do better… make you proud… I promise.”

Wanda chuckles. The sound of it makes your chest feel loose and warm and happy. “You already do, darling girl,” she murmurs. You don’t know if it’s because she’s whispering, or you’re fading into sleep, but you can barely hear her when she repeats it once more: “You already do.”

Sleep descends upon you, then, and you succumb to it willingly, feeling safer and more at peace than you have in a very long time. 

— —

tagging:

[marvel]: @normanijauregui​

— —

end notes: yeah i don’t know what this is either. i was only aiming for maybe 1,000 words or something, but things happened and...

look. i haven’t been to therapy in a hot minute, ok?

link to masterlist

[tohruhondaismydaughter]

Just had some headcanons about Machi pop into my head that I wanted to share with yall. So we know this poor girl struggles with "perfect"/neat things right? Well I was thinking about some healthy coping mechanisms she could develop to replace the whole 'breaking property/living in a dump' thing & here's what I got so far -

1. She always tries to wear odd socks (unless she's invited somewhere nice)

2. Ayame & Mine help her find cool asymmetrical stuff to wear, how to make clashing colours/patterns work for her & teach her how to sew up her old clothes in a more "punk rock" way (after Yuki & Kakeru explain some of her issues with perfection)

3. Tohru gently points out that she dosn't have to tie her laces the same way on both shoes if she dosn't want to

4. Haru & Rin (awkwardly on her part) teach her the power of acessorising (ie. wearing only one earing, putting on an uneven amount of bracelets/rings/necklaces, adding paper clips of different sizes & colours to your clothing & Machi later ends up adding stuff like buttons to her outfits/belongings as well which Haru & Rin are tottally surppotive of despite thier difference in style) & hair/makeup which (thanks to Yuki's advice) they make sure to keep slightly messy (Kimi laughed at it at first until Momiji made her feel bad after he told her that Machi had gone to the bathroon & wiped off all the make up & undid the hair style so Kimi bought her some limited edition Mogeta merch, after asking for Yuki's advice, in apolgey & started referring to Machi's new hair/makeup style as "punk chic" whenever anyone tried to mock Machi about her new look)

5. her & Momiji go on a crazy tie dying adventure (much to Hatori's grumbling & Mayu's amusement)

6. Kormaki gets her into collecting second hand fridge magnets which she then later uses in her work (my version of post-serise Machi is an artist) once the magnetism finally wears off

7. Kagura teaches her how to fix up old plushies (Machi likes creating Mogeta inspired characters) & gives Machi all her old cat ones to work on (Machi descides not to ask why Yuki's cousin was seemingly once obssesd with orange cats because she looks rather embrassed & a little sad when she hands over her collection)

8. Kyo reluctantly teaches her how to cook a few simple dishes (Tohru comes over as well & Yuki insists her food is better but Machi prefers Kyo's simple style of presentation so it's eventually descided that Kyo & her will do the cooking & Tohru & Yuki will deal with the cleaning which Yuki agrees to becuse cleaning is still difficult for Machi but Kyo says it's actually because no matter how much Tohru tried to train him rat boy knows he would never be able to do anything in the kitchen but burn water)

9. Kakeru teaches her the skills of 'excessive badge & sticker decorating' as well as giving eachother fake tattoos (Kisa congratulates Hiro on not saying anything rude to Yuki's girlfriend about her appreance after they first meet her)

10. Cuts her hair short (she delibretly makes it very choppy) once she enters university, where the rules are less strict about your apprence (at least it is if your at art college), & she also regulary wears diffrent coloured wigs (her favourites being a dark red one & a rainbow one) whenever she wants to temporarily change her appearance (beacuse she didn't want to commit to just one look, still wanted to have the ability to quickly "become invisable" again & she heard from Kimi that exsseive hair die-ing could permantly destroy her hair & scalp) it takes her until she's 30 to try out shaving all her hair off (she worried she'd look sick/crazy or not feminine enough) & everyone's really surppotive (though Kimi dose cry a bit, Rin & Haru aren't there when her hair is being shaved & Kyo is a slightly confused as he'd always thought women liked having longer hair then guys) especially Ritsu (who's growing out thier hair again) & they all throw her a big party (Haru & Rin are there for the party bit just not the hair removal bit because it brought up some bad memories) where Kakeru films it & posts it (with Machi's permission) & they give her cut off hair to a charity chosen by all thier followers (despite her disbelief Machi has manged to gain a small group of loyal fans from all her art stuff & her apprences on her loved ones social media), Kakeru also later uploads a video where they help Machi rainbow dye her buzz cut, (she later explores many diffrent types of buzz cut patterns such as flowers & geometric shapes but, at Kimi's insistence, gets them done by a professional)

11. She recycles & D.Y.I's like crazy (Momiji started singing Do Re Mi from The Sound Of Music after she told him that her new dress was actually made from curtains & Yuki cried when she gave him a little rat plushie made from felt, after he came clean to her about the curse)

12. She almost never wears an apron while working on her art because she likes getting messy

13. When her & Yuki go out to eat she loves things like fondoe (both the chocolate & cheese kind), eat N mess & is genreually just a fan of finger food & it becomes a tradition between her & Yuki (& later Mutsuki) to go on a stroll through the park after thier meal & (if it's autumn) look for piles of leaves to jump in (Machi & Yuki also like playing a game where they try to look for the weirdest looking leaf to give eachother & whoever wins gets to pick what they'll eat for dinner that evening & the looser has to cook it, Mutsuki is the "impartial" judge)

14. Machi is amazing at scrapbooking & collarge making (Tohru is more of a dream journal kind of girl)

15. When it's Summer her, Yuki & Mutsuki go down to the beach to see who can find the weirdest looking rocks (the less impressive ones often get used in Machi's art work, the coolest ones Mutsuki gets to keep & any that are too perfect get tossed back in the ocean & Mutsuki likes to score the splashes they make on how big/loud they are)

16. She loves helping Yuki out with gardening for lots of reasons (it's therapeutic & she loves seeing Yuki happy) but she can't deny it's also just fun getting muddy

17. Machi, thanks to Kakeru, devolpes a love of paint ball (but instead of using guns they just throw the paint at eachother like in 10 Things I Hate About You because apparently the gun pellets actually hurt) & will bring it up as an activity idea to her loved ones any chanse she gets

18. Decorates as much of her flat (& later her home with Yuki & Mutsuki) with Mogeta merchandise, random things she collects & her own art work as a big fuck you to her bitch "you have 0 personality/hobbies or talents" of a mother

19. Kisa (happily) & Hiro (reluctantly) introduce Machi to the magic of glitter

20. Machi & Rin eventually become proper friends due to bonding over being abounded by their asshole parents & one of the things they like to do together is work on thier seprete art peices while listening to music (Machi dosn't do any of her "aggressive" art, like plate smashing, around Rin though thanks to Yuki & Haru warnings)

21. When stuff gets to be too much & none of thier other coping strategies are working (like watching Mogeta stoned- which Kisa, Tohru & Momiji do not partake in) Machi & Haru bond by going to rage rooms together to destroy shit & scream (Haru obviously dosn't want Rin around for any of that though so Momiji, Tohru, Kagura or Hana will often take the opportunity to hang out with her, one time Yuki offered & it wasn't bad but it was definitely awkward as they had never really hung out without Haru before & Haru teases her for ages afterwards about her ending up liking Yuki once she actually spent some time with him which, like the precious tsundere she is, Rin will forever deny)

22. (I actually made a whole seprete post about this ages ago but now it seems to have vanished so in case other Machi fans are unable to find it l'll add it here) on the days that it's supposed to snow but dosn't Yuki takes her (& later Mutsuki) skating so she can enjoy scratching up the perfectly smooth ice (they would have gone on double dates with Tohru & Kyo if Tohru wasn't freaked out at the idea of having blades on her shoes & Kyo hadn't claimed to "not trust" ice, he's dislike comes from all the times Kagura had forced him to ice skate with her on the lake near Kazuma's place in the winter when they were kids, so they would instead go with Haru & Momiji - they had thought about going with Haru x Rin & Kakeru x Kormaki once but he proudly revealed that he'd been banned from thier local ice rink years ago for trying "perfectly safe" Olympic level stunts in he's attempt to recreate one of he's favriote episodes of Power Rangers, much to he's fiancee's anger, & Machi reminded Yuki that though Haru & Kakeru were fine with eachother Rin isn't reall able to stand Kakeru for longer than 5 minuites)

[obeiii-mee]

Hey! Sorry to bother you with a second ask but i thought this one would be cool. Fluffy headcanons of the demon brothers watching scary movies with MC??? Somewhere MC gets scared, and some where they don't? Thanks again!! :)

It’s no bother!! I love getting requests from you guys! The more, the merrier. I sort of hc that the brothers and MC do have movie night every week or so and with them being demons, they tend to levitate towards the horror genre. Thank you for sending this, this is really cute :)))

Without further ado—-

————————————

The Brothers watching Scary movies with MC:

Lucifer:

-Haha mf already knows how this is going to end

-He warned you, he really did

-The horror movies DevilDom has to offer are nothing, and I mean nothing, like the ones from the human world

-I’m not going to go into detail but imagine Two Girls One Cup, in a less kinky and more gorey way (then times that by 10)

-But you were adamant into giving it a go and he literally could not deny you in that moment

-Because you were giving him the puppy eyes

-That’s like, the finishing blow you use every time to get your way with him and as far as you know it’s the only one that works so-

-He expected your reaction to the last second

-You were traumatised for lack of a better word and you were basically watching the whole film through the cracks between your fingers

-Seeing you in that state was like a punch in the gut but he couldn’t stop himself from throwing in a subtle ‘I told you so’

-“I told you watching something like this before bed is a bad idea, MC.”

-He might be a bit condescending and judgemental at first, but he’s probably going to baby you a bit for the rest of the night

-Because he feels bad he allowed you to watch it in the first place

-HAHAHAHA SOFT LUCIFER HAS BEEN SUMMONED, USE HIM WISELY

-He will start muttering words of comfort to you later because he’s certain you’re going to have trouble sleeping

-Because of that one time, he’s very hesitant to let you watch another horror film anytime soon

-But he will relent eventually (especially if you want to watch a human horror film as those are technically less extreme)

-If it makes you happy, he will go through with it, even if he has to let you cling onto him for the rest of the day

-Besides, the way you cuddle into him while you’re watching a horror film is very cute and endearing to him

Mammon:

-Ah yes, the most effective method of waking up the entire House of Lamentation at 3:00 am

-Mammon screaming his own vocal cords out in his room as he tries to get through his human’s favourite horror movie without dying of a heart attack

-It was his idea because he’s definitely the type to go: “Yeah let’s do this, it will be fun. Don’t get too scared alright MC? The Great Mammon will be here to protect ya.”

-And then ten minutes in, he’s basically in your lap

-Half an hour in, he turned himself into a demon burrito with his blankets

-You were enjoying the movie, laughing at the stupid sound effects and poor quality while Mammon next to you has wrapped himself in like two dozen blankets and pillows

-“Mammon you’re going to overheat.”

-“Don’t be silly human, I’m a demon who lives in hell. I can take high temperatures the same way I can take this damn movie!”

-He doesn’t take either of them well

-Mammon and the horror genre don’t mix well together to begin with

-So even if you might enjoy horror, he doesn’t react well to it at all

-And he’ll be low-key relieved if you tell him you guys don’t have to watch any sort of horror film for your date night

-“Well I guess if you don’t want to, then we don’t have to. Can’t make my human do something they’re uncomfortable with eh?”

-But if you do watch a scary movie with him, be sure to show any sort of physical affection to him as often as possible

-You don’t have to say anything, just hold his hand or let him put his head in your lap or something

-It might stop him from screeching like a female sloth in heat

-The last time that happened, his brothers weren’t too pleased with him

-They about to recreate the horror film scenes onto him, bring the popcorn have fun

Levi:

-For some reason, I feel like he doesn’t get scared easily while watching stuff

-I mean, after decades of obsessively watching animes with brutal character deaths (like Attack on Titan style) and grotesque horror games that are pretty nasty even to demons, let alone humans;

-A horror film, from the human world or even DevilDom, doesn’t do much for him

-It will have to have very good psychological horror in it if you want the hairs on his arms to stand up in anticipation

-Tension is a big deal for him and he will immediately shut off the TV if there are any cheap jump scares

-But, if you manage to find just the right thing for him?

-You’ll both be hiding under the bed in no time under the bathtub more like

-Hell, if the film you’re watching is that good, he might even be holding onto you for dear life without realising it and getting flustered about it

-For weeks afterwards, any sound that is remotely similar to one from that movie will probably send both of you into panic

-You came to his room one night because you’ve had a nightmare about the stupid film and legitimately thought there was a fucking demon serial killer in your room

-So you wanted to stay in his

-“But what if there is a serial killer in your room and now you just led it to me MC????”

-It’s all jokes, there’s no question he would lock both of you in his room and then stay there with you wide awake until dawn

-You’re his best friend after all, he would have to be completely heartless to leave you on your own! (Besides Levi is terrifying when he wants to be)

-One time you were sleeping over and the sound of fumbling woke you tf up

-And Levi immediately turned into his demon form, like he was ready to throw hands with this fictional murderer that supposedly sneaked into his room

-“DON’T WORRY MC, I’LL PROTECT YOU!”

-“Ah never mind, it’s just Mammon breaking into your room again to steal your Ruri-Cham figurines and sell them on Akuzon.”

-“Oh OK.”

-“.....”

-“WAIT MAMMON WTF YOU FUCKING SCUMBAG, GET OUT OF MY ROOM-“

-I’m playing Minecraft

Satan:

-Believe it or not, Satan doesn’t care much about horror movies

-Don’t get me wrong, he loves watching his brothers shit their pants out of fear in the middle of one while he silently smirks to himself because watching other people suffer brings him euphoria

-Especially if someone actually manages to find a film that is excellent enough to spook Lucifer, because then he will be cackLING

-But, overall, he watches a lot of shows revolved around drama and crime

-That’s his thing

-However, he won’t turn you down if you’re up to watching a scary movie with him

-Any time spent with you is valuable time seeing as it won’t be long before his brothers start hogging you again like the cockblockers they are

-He is honestly surprised to find out you seem to be rather amused by those sort of movies

-So, even if it’s not inherently something he does on the regular, he would definitely watch a scary film with you if you enjoy them that much

-But in exchange, he makes you promise to read with him until bedtime rolls around (imagine Lucifer having a fucking curfew for his brothers and you lmao)

-So for the rest of night you guys just read together, ya know, like sappy romantics

-Tbh, this man will do almost anything with you as long as both of you are having fun

-He knows it’s not likely, but he insists on sleeping in the same room that night just in case you have nightmares and he needs to comfort you

- :)

-Satan is a gentleman. Idk how many people that don’t play OM expected to hear this

Asmo:

-Why would you want to watch a movie when you could be watching him???

-I mean, you would rather watch all that gory stuff on the TV than his beautiful face?

-He may get salty over a fucking movie tbh

-Horror films aren’t something he generally looks for while trying to pick a movie to watch

-He can definitely handle them better than Mammon but it’s not something he takes great pleasure in watching

-But the first time he ever sits down with you to watch one, he’s very intrigued to see your reactions

-You started feeling the sensation of absolute dread creep in at the very beginning and you were trying your best to act like you weren’t getting affected by what you saw on the screen

-But you were

-You went from “I’m grown ass adult, I can watch a fucking horror movie, no problem.”

-To “Welp, not enough of a grown ass adult for this-“

-And Asmo thought the way you tried to hide your nervousness was very mesmerising in a way

-He was planning on flirting with you during the movie anyway, but now that you were pressing himself against him?

-Oh boy, Oh boy

-“Darling if you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just said so. Making the excuse of watching a movie is unnecessary.”

-Nightmares? What nightmares? You won’t have time to have nightmares ;)

-haHAHA funny inappropriate joke

-It’s Asmo, it’s mandatory to have at least one of those added in here

Beel:

-Beel will show up if there’s food and that’s that

-He doesn’t care what type of movie is playing on the TV as long as he has a bucket of popcorn next to him at all times

-Horror films aren’t something he can’t handle, he’s a demon like the rest of his brothers and he is used to...violent deaths and such

-He doesn’t get scared but there are times where he gets attached to the characters

-Especially movies with actual good and not cringeworthy dialogue

-Therefore, when they die, he gets sad even if they’re just fictional and their death had no real impact

-He also thinks that the way you can watch these things without flinching is impressive

-I mean, he can watch it and so can his brothers because they are demons

-They’ve done worse things than the things you see in horror films

-But you’re a human! So it’s weird to see you watch a person get repeatedly slammed against a wall until their neck snaps without batting an eyelid

-Overall, he does not have an opinion on scary movies

-He gets a bit emotional when a character he really liked dies

-But other than that, he’s just focused on eating

-And occasionally patting your head affectionately

Belphie:

-He doesn’t really like horror films because there’s a lot of screaming and tense music and he’s just trying to nap in your lap (rhyme)

-He doesn’t really need sound effects like that in the background while he’s trying to sleep

-But one day he was like “Hey, what if I show my favourite human this particular scary film?”

-And he did

-And he’s internally dying and feeling guilty and yet so flustered because of you

-It’s like you suddenly turn into this very fidgety and anxious mess and he thinks you just look....cute

-At some point you were getting overwhelmed and sprung up on your feet to turn the lights on

-And he just grabbbed your wrists, pulled you down next to him and let you press your head against his chest

-As mentioned, he’s a little shit and will tease you for being such a scaredy cat

-“That was the most predictable jumpscare and you still flinched, wth is wrong with you lmao.”

-But at the same time....

-“Relax. It’s just a horror movie. You’ll be fine. Besides, I’m here. Like I would let something bad happen to you.”

-That’s sweet, even if the tone of voice may not imply it because he’s such a brat-

-He actually really likes holding you for once, because usually he’s the little spoon

-He’s still a bit of a sadist so I imagine him sitting there and watching this while giggling to himself

-Isn’t he the cutest, laughing at other people’s misery and their never ending suffering?🥺🥺🥺 UwU

-Ah well, at least he has the decency to spoil with affection afterwards and make sure you have no nightmares that night

-You know, as payback for the horrific shit he made you watch with no warning

————————————

OK, I think I made a decent job of this even though it took longer than it actually was meant to. Thank you for reading though. I’ve got so many requests to go through and I’ve been feeling motivated lately so yeah!

See you soon

Al~

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 287: Family Reunion

Previously on BnHA: The Tomura For One VS Deku And Pals clusterfuck reached new levels of clustfuckery as AFO possessed Tomura’s body and stabbed Kacchan and Endeavor. Shouto was all “good thing I leveled up offscreen so as to be able to fly around whilst carrying 400lbs worth of people”, and did just that and it was like, damn, son. Meanwhile Deku’s rage went Mach 100, and he kicked Tomura’s ass for almost two whole seconds, but in the process he apparently forgot that IF TOMURA TOUCHES HIM THAT IS VERY BAD, and so he stupidly let Tomura touch him and Tomura was all “GAME, SET.” Fortunately for Deku, his quirk plays by its own rules, and so the chapter ended with us cutting to the METAPHYSICAL OFA/AFO PARANORMAL DREAMSCAPE OF MYSTICAL BULLSHIT, where AFO!Vestige was all “lol Tomura y u mad”, and Nana!Vestige was all “SUP DEKU, YOU’RE JUST IN TIME, LOOKS LIKE IT’S ASSKICKING O’CLOCK.” I’m paraphrasing a bit, but that’s more or less the gist of it.

Today on BnHA: AFO is all “well if it isn’t Tomura’s grandmother who I murdered that one time”, and Deku is all “?”, and AFO is all “fucking vestiges, man, wild”, and Deku is all “??”, and AFO is all “ANYWAYS GETTIM TOMURA”, and OFA is all “NOT SO FAST”, and Deku is all “???”, and really, same. AFO then goes off on some wild tangent about how Deku is unworthy because he couldn’t protect everyone and needed help from OFA and got mad about his friends being stabbed, which is such a cold take it gave me hypothermia, but it ends up not mattering since Deku and Tomura both wake up seconds later with OFA still in the possession of its rightful owner, HOW ABOUT THAT. The chapter ends with the LoV approaching on Gigantomachia’s back with Dabi practically salivating at the mouth, and Toga trying to reignite an old fandom blood feud. Toga why would you do this to me. Toga.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSS

[CROWD LOSING THEIR MINDS] FINALLY THE NANA HAS COME BACK TO BNHA!! IF YA SMELLLLL WHAT THE NANA IS COOKIN!!!!! [RINGSIDE BELL CHIMING WILDLY] [LOUD AIRHORN NOISES]

“chapter 287: mistake” omg. yeah I’ll say you made a mistake, AFO. I HOPE YOU ENJOY THESE FLEETING LAST MOMENTS OF YOUR SHITTY EVIL LIFE

(ETA: so in all seriousness this must be referring to AFO’s belief that All Might/OFA made a mistake in choosing Deku, right? “I can’t believe you went and chose this shounen manga protagonist as your champion, what were you thinking.” I’ll just put this out there: however many comic books AFO read as a child, it clearly was not enough.)

wow Deku how slow are you

yes you’re inside OFA you dimbulb, did you think your clothes suddenly vanished out of the blue and the ghost of Nana just randomly appeared in the real world by some freak coincidence?? can you believe this kid. breaks his arms a measly 10-15 times in a row and all of a sudden he can’t think straight, get it together Deku

but also brb having a moment at the fact that his thoughts immediately run back to Kacchan, even with all of this nonsense going on and Nana about to lay the beatdown on AFO’s potato-lookin’ ass. forget that noise, all he wants to know is whether or not Kacchan is all right. fuckin’ geez. AM I OVERREACTING HERE A BIT. probably

(ETA: ALSO!! the way he just trails off!! “Kacchan is...” and then he can’t bring himself to complete the thought. oh my god my heart.)

HOLY SHIT

okay,

damn but this man sure knows how to ruffle my feathers. as eminently detestable as ever!!

could it be any clearer here that AFO is not on Tomura’s side?? for a moment I thought he had actually grabbed him by the back of the head in order to get him to look. but nope, he’s just resting his pointing hand on top of his head instead while he’s all “HEY TOMURA LOL IT’S THE GHOST OF YOUR DEAD PATHETIC GRANDMA”

for those keeping track at home, this would be the first time that Deku has heard this information -- that Tomura is Nana’s grandson -- and possibly the first time Vestige!Nana has heard it as well. Nana died when Kotarou was still a child, so for all we know the Vestige!Nana didn’t even know she had a grandson, lol. TODAY ON “MAKESTE RANTS AT LENGTH ABOUT THINGS THAT WILL PROBABLY BE ADDRESSED WITHIN THE NEXT THREE PANELS”, anyway moving on

lmao for the record I fucking LOLed at this giant question mark immediately bubbling up over Deku’s head

no idea what AFO is about to ramble on about now, haven’t read that far yet. but let the record show that Deku’s immediate reaction to hearing “BTW NANA IS YOUR ARCHNEMESIS’S GRANDMA LULZ” is everything I could have hoped for

(ETA: fandom nailed the shit out of this one with the confused Mr. Krabs meme lmao.)

okay so now AFO is monologuing at length about how he would sometimes have “riveting dreams” about the previous owners of all the quirks he stole. but once he gave the quirks away they stopped bothering him?? holy moly let me just take all the notes

okay so he’s saying that Vestiges are created whenever someone has their quirk stolen by AFO. but if they then disappear when he gives the quirks away, does that also mean that whoever receives the quirks also gets the original owner’s Vestige bundled in every time?? that would be wild okay hold up let me read the rest of this

so he’s saying that the Vestiges are actually the “consciousnesses” of the original quirk owners, which have become embedded in their dna or something. SOUNDS INCREDIBLY DUBIOUS TO ME LOL but on the other hand this is a world where children can be born with airplane heads, so my disbelief can hardly afford to pick and choose what it’s gonna be suspended at! anyways though, how does he know he’s the only one who was able to converse with them? did you conduct detailed six-month follow-up interviews with everyone you gave quirks to or what

and if it really is the case that this ability was formerly exclusive to him, isn’t that more evidence than ever that OFA and AFO are actually THE EXACT SAME QUIRK oh whoops am I getting ahead of myself again, sorry

MEANWHILE TOMURA IS ALL, “GRANDMA?”

“WHY AM I HERE, WELL LET ME TELL YOU A STORY, GRANDSON. YOU SEE THAT MAN GROWING OUT OF YOUR RIBCAGE THERE? WELL IT’S JUST THE FUNNIEST THING, ACTUALLY”

WAIT SO IS HE SAYING THEY’RE SOULS OR NOT??

this makes it sound like they won’t ever get to rest, which sure sounds like a soul thing to me. well whatever, soul, consciousness, I guess it’s just semantics at the end of the day

anyways though, so this asshole is finally done talking (I’m sure that won’t last), so now we can finally have the heartwarming reunion we’ve all been waiting for

sigh

-- actually, no, not “sigh”!! you know what!! because Tomura says “whatever the reason”, but that’s only because he doesn’t actually have a fucking clue about the reason. like, I don’t know if the knowledge that AFO killed Nana would be enough to give him pause, but if he knew the whole story and knew that AFO was behind not only Nana’s death, but the rest of his family’s deaths as well... now that would be a whole different thing

anyway. but at least it’s becoming clearer now why AFO spent all that time raising Tomura up as his heir and brainwashing him even though he seems to have been planning this body takeover the whole time. it’s all because he loves making people miserable! yaaaaay

btw HAS NANA HAD THE EXACT SAME MOLE ON HER CHIN AS TOMURA THIS ENTIRE TIME WTF. am I just the least observant person who ever lived lmao

lol wtf

ground: [randomly starts exploding]

Deku: “ONE FOR ALL IS BEING ERODED!!!” LOL IS THAT WHAT’S HAPPENING HERE, OKAY THEN. I’ll take your word for it

y’all I cannot fucking get over this “AFO growing out of Tomura’s hip socket like a fucked-up ventriloquist dummy” shit though

you do realize that absolutely no one can take you seriously right now, right?? it’s important to me that you know this

WHAT’S THIS NOW

seems like SOMEONE has had it up to here with a certain SOMEONE ELSE’S bullshit lmaooo bye Felicia

I SAID GOOD DAY!!

you guys why is he not dying!!

-- OH DAMN

love how Deku is just lying there like “YOU KNOW THOSE DAYS WHERE YOU’RE LIKE, THIS MIGHT AS WELL HAPPEN.” poor Deku

(ETA: where in god’s name is OFA Prime standing. why are my thoughts fully consumed by this lmao.)

are Nana and OFA Prime even doing anything?? why are they sticking their arms out like that. wait hold up is this all a big metaphor for the back-and-forth going on between Tomura trying to steal OFA and OFA being all “actually no you can’t, please enter your password and click on all the boxes with bicycles in them to prove you’re a human first”?

OH SNAP OFA PRIME SAID NO THANKS

“SORRY BRO WE’VE ALREADY MADE OURSELVES AT HOME HERE”

I have only just noticed that metaphysical!Deku has the same scars as actual!Deku. and yet his arms are not currently broken! that doesn’t really seem consistent to me but whatever!! maybe he saved right before the boss battle, that would be smart of him

anyway, that’s great and all that OFA Prime is here helping out, but I really wanted to see Nana fight AFO in a one on one though so I’m a bit disappointed. also why is it only the two of them?? where are Banjou and the others. of all the times to be sleeping on the job

FOR FUCK’S SAKE, THIS MAN

WOULD YOU STOP. WOULD YOU JUST QUIT IT ALREADY

oh shit hold up

doesn’t this confirm that the reason he wanted to transfer his power to Tomura is because he believed it would make him strong enough to finally take OFA because of Quirk Singularity? jesus christ. and here he was so sure of himself. but it turns out he doesn’t actually know shit! you can’t just fucking take OFA like that ya dingdong that’s not how it works

(ETA: SO, A THOUGHT -- is there any sort of subtle hinting here in the way that he words this? “if your strength is combined with mine”, as opposed to “if my strength is combined with yours”? no idea if the admittedly-so-small-as-to-be-almost-inconsequential distinction between those two sentences exists in the original Japanese or not, but I find it very interesting that the English wording implies that he’s the one adding Tomura’s strength to his own, rather than vice versa.)

now he’s insulting Deku!!

excuse me sir WHO ASKED YOU anyway. and never mind that being consumed by an, AND I QUOTE, “unquenchable” rage is your protege’s whole THING, and that he also needed your help to avoid being burned to a crisp a short while ago. where do you get off I swear

(ETA: also just want to point out that in the panel before this one he says that he’s been “watching through Tomura”, which pretty much confirms that his consciousness or whatever is alive inside of him all the time. Tomura is definitely not getting rid of this guy any time soon.)

WOW

first he calls Kacchan useless, then he calls Deku a simpleton, and don’t even get me started with Nana. just, you guys. this man is just... a very, very rude man

NOW OFA IS ALL “THAT’S EXACTLY WHAT MAKES HIM SUCH A GOOD PROTAGNIST YOU BUTTMUNCH” AND OMG PREACH

“DESPITE HIS COMMON SENSE” sdfkllk my man he already has one brother roasting him, take it easy guy

AHH WHAT

IS THIS BACK IN THE REAL WORLD

YEP

hahaha nice try Tomura

so Deku’s all “I didn’t lose my power! BUT” and I assume the “but” is the part where his arms are still broken and shit, and meanwhile Tomura’s body is almost healed up now finally

they’re both wiped out and now AFO is again petitioning Tomura to let him take over goddammit

“you won’t lose your mind” yep, he sure won’t! scout’s honor!! pinky swear!!

meanwhile Deku is getting fucking desperate flkjl;k my baby. and Machia is going to show up any second now too, probably. what else can fucking go wrong at this point

oh shit I shouldn’t have asked

get ready to rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuumble, probably

OH MY GOD

WELL AT LEAST SOMEONE HERE IS HAVING A GOOD TIME. jesus

so as soon as he heard Endeavor was there he got all, “TIME FOR THE BIG REVEAL”, is that right? WELL JOKE’S ON YOU TOUYA, YOUR DAD DOESN’T SEEM ALL THAT CONSCIOUS AT THE MOMENT, SO THAT’S GOING TO DRAIN A LOT OF THE TENSION FROM THE SCENE WHEN YOU GO ALL REVERSE DARTH VADER ON HIM AND HE’S ALL “ZZZZZZZZ”

meanwhile Toga is having unsettlingly quiet angst

jesus christ Toga this is all we need right now

“WAS JIN-KUN NOT A PERSON” sdkfjlk Horikoshi I swear. please have mercy on this fandom. this is the debate that refuses to die!!

but seriously ffs, the issue isn’t that Jin deserved to die, it’s that the countless people whom Jin would have either directly or indirectly killed didn’t deserve to die either. people don’t only become people when you attach names and faces to them! we all loved Jin because we’d gotten to know him, but that doesn’t mean his life was inherently worth more than the lives of all the people he would have killed. sometimes there’s just no good answer

like, it’s just crazy to me that because the heroes are all “we want to protect everyone!” but then aren’t always able to do so because that’s literally impossible, whereas the villains are all “we don’t care about anyone other than the select few people that we actually like!”, the villains somehow wind up getting the better PR. it just so happens that it’s infinitely easier to be loyal to the interests of a few people as opposed to ALL THE PEOPLE. like, no shit, it’s easier to stick to your moral code when you barely have a moral code. and so the villains can kill thousands and no one bats an eye, but if a hero fails to save even one person they’re hypocritical moral failures. like what the hell

BUT ANYWAY, sorry to go off on a tangent there lol, it’s not really a big deal. I’m just preemptively trying to stave off more discourse about it lol but who am I even kidding

anyways lol, but of course they won’t kill you unless they have no choice, Toga. but when it comes to catch-22 situations, it’s a bit much to infer that the heroes don’t consider the villains people just because they opt for the choice that spares more innocent lives. I sure as hell don’t want my babies out here killing people, but to say that they can’t no matter what or else they’re no different from the villains is just...

anyway so the chapter has now just ENDED, just like that!! on a shot of Ochako’s face!

I SENSE ANOTHER THROWDOWN COMING. and it had better not be a total letdown like the last one! NANA BARELY DID ANYTHING HORIKOSHI, WHAT THE FUCK. I started out with such high hopes lol

but I will settle for Toga VS Ochako, and Deku VS Tomura: The Sequel: Shouto’s Revenge! SPEAKING OF HEROES WHO HAVE NO QUALMS ABOUT MURDERING PEOPLE lmao

[jerzwriter]

The hits just keep on coming from you lol! And I am so happy that it's you out of anyone else in this fandom because with everything you've been through from the anon hate and what happens behind the scenes you have earned to tell everyone about fandom manners...which is simply common human decency by the way

There's a hit! 😂

(Yeah, I'm a Yankees fan lol)

Thanks, Nonny. I don't know what happened, but in the past week, a switch flipped, and it's the best thing that's ever happened to me, fandom-wise.

I'm just done.

Done with the bullshit and the games.

Done with the dumbass popularity contests. (BRUH, if you want popularity - this is not the place to be. 😂😂 Be real people.)

Done with everyone being butthurt that the whole world doesn't see things the EXACT same way that they do. (Do they do this in the real world too? They must be a pleasure to be around.)

Done with fandom politics.

Done with people who can't show common decency or respect to others.

Done with people who see every newcomer (who should be WELCOMED) as a threat.

Done with people who are jealous of everyone and everything.

Done with people coming to me (it's happened 4 times, 2 times in DM, 2 as anon) and saying they were "warned to stay away from me" when they came to the fandom. Or that they're "guilted for being friends with me." Nope, you'll never get names from me. But I'm done with it.

Done with feeling like I have to measure everything I say and do, worried about who I am allowed to be publicly friends with, to avoid criticisms from people who are either: 1) strangers who don't know me for shit (99% of the fandom), 2) someone who is jealous because I got 10 more notes they did in a dying fandom, 3) someone parading as a friend who is anything but (so who needs them), 4) someone who left the fandom months ago, but whose IP address still shows on my blog almost daily, to the point that I wonder if I have my own Yolanda (google Selena if you don't know).

Done with some troll crying, "You're exclusionary," and "you're a mean girl," when my stupid ass has spent countless hours trying to support everyone in the OH fandom. Do you know how many others in the fandom do that? Off the top of my head, I can think of like 5-7 tops. That's it. And several others included in that 5-7 are also regularly called out for being exclusionary and mean. I don't know about you, but I think some Nonny out there is in dire need of a dictionary.

Advice to all out there: Just because some troll rants something... anonymously... it doesn't make it true. I'm going to take abuse from someone who has probably never supported a single soul here or has limited it to a handful of people. Chances are, I supported them too. FOH. I'm done.

One of the best things that have happened to me, fandom-wise, is falling in love with a new story that I feel has more story to tell. Creating and plotting ideas for WTD has been so much fun, and I am loving it. And I know (and don't care) that it won't be popular. I'm creating for the love of it, and it's amazing! To be removed from the bullshit is divine, and meeting new people has given me a wonderful, fresh perspective.

I don't know if I'll be here another month, year or if I really will join a couple lovely people in shutting the lights off when everyone else is gone. But, however long I'm here, my bullshit meter is fully charged, but my give-a-F meter is broken. I'm here to write, I'm here to read, I'm here to engage in a shared love with others. Oh, and I'm here to help support OTHER creators throughout the fandom because that matters to me.

Outside of that. 🖕No time for it.

[mintmatcha]

10 Months

Matsukawa and Hanamaki

Part One

CW: mentions of death and illness, ANGST

Today’s just another day at work. Someone’s dead and someone else is talking about it. 

The worst part of the job, Mattsun decides, isn’t consoling the grieving or dealing with the aftermath of death: it’s listening to these shitty, repetitive speeches. There’s only so many times a man can hear about God’s plan and how much better someone is now that they’ve entered the great beyond before he goes numb. Sure, yes, logically, he understands this is all sad, but before all else?

 It’s boring.

Has he always been this bitter? Has he always been this good at choking down his feelings? Probably.

Mattsun looks away from the speaker at the front of the room, who's droning on about some shit while practically draped over the coffin. He does a precursory scan across the room, making sure everyone was properly teary eyed and mourning, before pulling out his phone. Maybe it’s unprofessional, but it doesn’t matter. No one’s looking at the funeral director during these things. If they were, it was something for them to discuss later during the reception.

'Did you see that employee?' 

'No, I was crying.'

'He was on his phone!'

'How horrible!'

Just before he can open Twitter, a glimpse of unforgettable, bright strawberry blonde hair catches his eye. For a moment, he ignores it off. He’s used to imagining things, used to his brain searching for hints of pink wherever he goes. He's used to turning his head to see it was a trick of the eye.

But this time the color doesn’t fade. Instead, it comes into focus, catching the light that pours through the stained glass windows, rainbows painted across pale skin. All at once, the presence becomes real, and Mattsun feels like he’s seen a ghost.

Not a literal one, but, fuck, he might as well be.

It’s been years since he’s seen Makki, longer since they actually talked, but there he was, standing at the back of the parlor with an obituary in hand. He loathes himself for the way excitement bubbles inside him and his heart gets caught in his throat… and then immediately drops as he processes why Makki would be here. He tries to remember the last name of the deceased, hoping the last name wouldn’t be familiar. Makki’s dad was never in good health, could it be-

No, he definitely would have recognized anyone else with the last name Hanamaki.

That’s when it hits him that Makki isn’t dressed for the funeral. In a sea of black, he’s wearing some raggedy sweatshirt with coffee split down the sleeve and a loose pair of jeans, ripped in all the wrong places. Frankly, he looks like shit, but he’s just leaning against the door frame, standing there like he belongs, with a tiny little grin on his face. 

Makki never looks over, too involved in the speech, but he’s aware of Mattsun’s presence. His torso is angled to face his old friend, chest broad and inviting. Mattsun hates that after all these years, he can still read his body language and understand what it means. It’s an invitation to come over.

Mattsun has to stop himself from going over there. Time has passed, he’s made his choices. He can’t just drop his work for an old friend.

No, not a friend. Stranger adjacent. 

He’s made his choices. 

He stays where he should be, in the corner, for what feels like hours, autopiloting through the rest of the service. By the time it’s all over, and the lights are dimmed, Makki’s already gone.

Mattsun hates that he knows exactly where to find him.

.

.

They find each other behind the parlor, wedged between the building and the dumpster. Makki’s sitting on the curb, legs folded up under him and pressed into his chest. That signature smile hasn’t faded, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He pats the empty space next to him, but Mattsun just shakes his head and stays standing. 

“Just like high school, huh?” Makki says, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his pouch. He taps the bottom four times,  then shakes it, hard. Waking up the cancer, making sure it’s out of bed, he used to joke. 

“Except we aren’t hiding from teachers anymore.” Mattsun kicks at a crumpled soda can and watches it bounce across the asphalt. “And you’ve changed brands.”

“Now we’re hiding from your boss.” Makki pulls a stick out and waves it, “And Iwaizumi’s not here to bitch about it.”

“Dude,” Mattsun tries not to sigh, but it sneaks out. The casual act was unsettling; Makki was pretending that past 3 years never happened. “I’m happy to see you and all, but I’m working right now.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Makki pats his pockets frantically, then pulls out a small pink lighter. It's not the same pink as his hair, but it's close. He brushes it against his pants, back then forward, opening it and lighting it in one smooth motion. He holds out the cigarette, twirling it between his fingers, “Help me light this, why don’t you?”

Mattsun blanches, scoffing in annoyance at the thought. There's the flash of a memory, Hiro's fingers against his lips, holding the cigarettes for him as he breathes in, skinned knees brushing against each other, but he pushes it down.

 “Hanamaki, I-”

“I’ve been demoted to just Hanamaki, huh?” he places it between his teeth and sets it alight, sucking in until the end glows orange. He holds still, savoring the moment, then lets out his breath, smoke seeping out through his teeth. “So, it turns out that I need to plan a funeral.”

Mattsun lets his apathy break, just for a moment. He runs his hands through his hair, completely fucking up the slicked back style as he processes this.  “Fuck, dude, I’m sorry.”

“Eh, don’t be.” Makki shrugs, “Not the end of the world.”

Mattsun blinks, trying to shake off the initial shock. He just lets his work persona take over. “Well, we would be happy to help you plan. We can scheduling for next week in my office, if you want-”

“There’s no rush, don’t worry.” Makki leans back and faces the sun. Even though he’s sitting on the ground, no more than 5 feet from garbage, he seems so peaceful. 

“Who’s it for?” Mattsun asks the obvious question and Makki grins wider, like he’s been waiting for this moment. He waggles his fingers in the air, like he’s celebrating.

“Me.” Makki says. He rolls his head forward and that pleasant air about him fades. It strikes Mattsun that he’s lost weight since high school; his already sharp features are more sullen, sunken into his face. “I’m dying.”

How hadn’t he noticed earlier? He spent so much time looking at Hiro in high school, so much time studying his features…. How could he miss such a dramatic change? Even now, he can remember exactly how the curve his cheek felt under his thumb, how smooth his skin was. Mattsun doesn’t realize he’s sitting until loose gravel bites into the palms of his hands.

“Fuck, dude.” he can only look straight ahead, focusing on nothing, “Are--- are you sure?”

“As sure as medical science can get,” he has the audacity to laugh, “I got brain cancer.”

Brain cancer. Mattsun knows what that means in a vague sense and yet it means almost nothing to him. Questions bubble up in his mind, all of them swimming around, begging for any sort of information to make this all make sense. 

"How long?" He wanted to ask anything else, but that’s the only sentence he could form.

" 'bout 7 inches.” Makki pauses for affect, “Oh, you meant how long do I have left to live?" he's grinning wildly at his own joke, waiting for Mattsun to react. When he doesn't he just takes another drag of his cigarette, smile never fading. "I thought it was funny.”

"It was a little funny." Mattsun relents, gesturing for the butt. It's passed with brushing fingers, knuckle against knuckle. It's been years since he's smoked- since third year of high school- but each pull still burns all the same. "How long?"

"Well, two months ago they told me I had years," he says, like it's nothing, "But the doc did a rescan and it's way worse than they thought.” He taps his temple,  “Apparently, three lil fuckers in there."

"How long?" Mattsun can’t stop repeating himself.

"10 months." he wobbles his hand side to side, “Give or take.”

Mattsun takes another drag, harder this time. It’s unfair that he’s this upset about it, that this isn’t just another funeral to him.

“Whoa, don’t hog the whole thing!” Makki grabs for his cigarette, opening and closing his hand like a small child, “You’ll get cancer from these, you know? ”

Mattsun doesn’t laugh. He just watches the ember fall on to his slacks. They flare of a quick moment before dying, leaving  little discolored burns in their wake.

“Both of us can’t get cancer- it’d be like wearing the same dress to a party. So embarrassing.” he finally just snatches it out of Mattsun’s hand, “So, are you going to help me?”

“H-help you.” he repeats back. Nothing that’s happening right now feels real.

“With my funeral. Duh.”

“You want me to plan your service?” Mattsun asks.

“Well, us. Not just you. Duh.”

Duh. 

“Why?” Mattsun breaths and yet he feels like he’s suffocating, “Why me? After everything I did-”

“I don’t want my dad to worry about it.” Makki kisses his teeth and pulls himself into a ball,  “He almost had a heart attack trying to figure out my mom’s and I …. I just don’t want him to worry.” Makki breathes out through his nose- it’s how he dispels negativity in his life, just like how he did in high school. “Besides, if I plan it, it doesn’t have to be some fucking boring ass pity party. We can make it fun. A fun-eral.”

These all just seem like words. There’s meaning behind them, sure, but they don’t seem to mean anything when they’re strung together like this. Mattsun wonders if this is shock, or some weird form of it. He’s seen it before, in the eyes of family’s blindly choosing and planning. He always thought they dumb, not knowing how to react, not knowing if they should be sad or angry or …. Something. 

But he gets it now. The news doesn’t always sink in.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admits after a long moment, “I don’t… I don’t think I’m processing this.”

Makki pushes off of the curb and stands, brushing off dust from his pants. “I get it. It’s a lot to hear.” he flashes a peace sign over his shoulder as he starts down the alley, “Think about it and get back to me.” A thin puff of smoke curls into the air, “My number’s the same as it always was.”

Mattsun sits there, hidden between the dumpster and his work, and tries to process as he watches Makki walk out of his life once again.

[hepaidattention]

denial

part 2

where Allison never died in s3 and Lydia and Stiles are still going strong in the flirting game but still stubborn, so Allison decides to set them up (with Scott’s help of course).

part 1 can be found here

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised to see Allison's name pop up on his phone screen as he played video games in his room. The names to pop up are usually Stiles and his mom. Seeing Lydia's name was a little more normal - he even got one from her earlier, telling him that Stiles was in the works of a terribly stupid plan and he needed to distract him from it. Hence the video games they were now playing together. Isaac was a little more regular, Isaac just wasn’t much of a texter. Point is, there were a lot of people in his life that he would expect to be texting him at 7 o’clock on a Tuesday night. However, Allison was not one he would expect. 

There was a time in his life where Allison was the most common name to pop up. But now, now she was with Isaac and things have been especially weird and tense since her almost dying thing. She said a few things, they both said a few things that might have made things even more awkward now than ever. It was by a miracle that Scott was able to even heal her enough to get her to a hospital in time. Even Scott thought they had lost her forever that night. 

Isaac was there in his room too, defeating Stiles in the game with a triumphant grin on his face. Stiles just looked like this gave him even more reason to hate him. Now that Isaac and Allison were officially dating, Stiles claims that Isaac broke some kind of bro code and he shouldn't be allowed over his threshold. Scott doesn't care though; Isaac's his friend. Besides the guy lived here most of the time, where else would he go?

Stiles, his attention now split, of course noticed Scott's uneasiness. Probably because he died a while ago and has shown zero interest in rejoining. Stiles was now frantically glancing from the game to zombie-like Scott, trying to catch his eye. It wasn't until his half baked attention span made him lose (Isaac cheering over his success) that Stiles turned to Scott and asked, "You okay there buddy?"

"Yeah, yeah," Scott locked his phone screen. He couldn't make himself open the text. He was sure it was probably something small, like 'hey do you have the history homework for tomorrow', but there was too much pressure for him to open it right now. He couldn't do it with two pairs of peering eyes now watching him. "Sorry, just started thinking. Got a little distracted. How about another round?"

"I'm down." Isaac tried to sound cool, but he sounded more enthusiastic about it then anything. With his permanently smug expression, he weaved his hands behind his head and leaned back, as if winning this game was a walk in the park.

"Of course you are Lahey," Stiles glared at him, his temper boiling when Isaac even breathed loudly. "Hey, why don't you do Scotty boy here a favor and go get him some water. He looks parched."

The weirdest thing about Isaac is now that he stole his alpha’s/friend’s ex-girlfriend, he did everything for Scott. Scott hated it. Stiles? Well he thoroughly enjoyed it.

Isaac shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I could use a drink." He got up and walked out, not even questioning it.

Scott waited until he left to say, "I'm not even-"

"Not all of us have a servant to wait at us hands and feet, okay now Scotty? Some of us, when thirsty, have to stretch a little truth to get even the simplest of things." He leaned back into the beanie bag and sighed. "Now what did Allison say?"

Scott's eyes widened and he looked behind them in case of Isaac before hissing, "How did you know she-?"

"You've been staring at her name on your screen for the past 10 minutes there, buddy. You're not exactly stealthy about it."

Scott smirked back at him and winced, it was this look that he gave Stiles a lot. Stiles knew it as ‘yeah okay well you don’t know everything thank you very much smartass’, but that was just general speculation. Nothing was set in stone. Scott looked back down at his phone fearfully as he said, "Like you can talk. You've spent all day staring at the clock, counting down the hours until you can go faun over Lydia Martin as she bosses you around again."

Stiles gave Scott that distinct look in return, this time it said 'you can't turn this around on me'. "Yeah, okay, whatever - I see what you’re doing. And I don't know what you’re talking about - I'm not seeing Lydia later."

Scott arched a brow, "That's not what Lydia said."

Stiles clearly wanted to ask what Lydia did say, but he was too smart for the bait. Scott knew it seemed to easy. Instead Stiles said, "So what you’re saying is you haven't even opened the text then?"

Scott puddled into the floor in shame, "Nope."

"C'mon man, she's probably just checking up, right? I mean, you've been really weird around her lately. Like borderline schizoid weird. Maybe she's just trying to clear some air so you'll stop dodging her every time you see her in the halls."

Scott frowned, "Have I really been that weird?"

"Scott," Stiles blinked, his face fallen, "yesterday she asked you for a pencil in class and you stared at her for five whole minutes before you gave her like ten. Then when she said she only needed one, you didn’t respond but instead you gave her like ten more."

"She loses her pencils a lot," Scott defended, "it was for later."

Before they could finish their conversation Isaac reappeared with the water. He handed it to Scott, which Stiles then took from his hands before he could even think about drinking it and took a long sip. Isaac flopped back into the beanie bag when Stiles said, "Hey, Scotty here's stomach is growling. You should go make your true alpha a sandwich, Lahey."

Isaac started to stand.

"Isaac, no stop -" Scott shot a glare at Stiles, clearly annoyed with his antics. "I don't need a sandwich, I'm fine."

"Okay," Isaac shrugged, "I'm gonna go make one for me then. I’ll make extra just in case." He walked out and Scott gave Stiles his 'I'm a disappointed mom' look.

"What? He’s hungry too, he said it himself.” Scott’s face didn’t change. Stiles sighed, “C’mon - Scott, he's like a puppy. He will willingly do anything the fuck I want for you and he doesn't even think twice. You could ask him to jump off a bridge for you and he'd probably do it."

"And that's definitely not something we're going to test." Scott gave him a warning glare before leaning back in his seat and looking back at his phone screen. "He just feels bad about Allison and he shouldn't, I don't have some kind of claim over her. We've been broken up for a while now."

"If it doesn't bother you so much, then why don't you just open the text from Allison?"

Stiles was attempting to make Scott admit something, but he actually had a really good point. Him and Allison were over, no matter what they might have said to each other that night. He needed to toughen up and read the text.

"You know what? You're right, Stiles." Scott unlocked his phone and clicked on the message in one swift motion. 

"That's not something I hear very often." Stiles watched, trying to read the text over Scott's shoulder. "What does it say? Was I right? Does she need to return to you all the unneeded pencils now?"

To Scott's surprise, it was about Stiles himself. Stiles and Lydia, to be more precise. Scott locked the screen again, just in time before Stiles got a glance at it. He just shrugged it off and said, "She just has question about history homework. I'll answer it later."

Stiles knew he was lying. Scott could tell by the look in his eyes, he didn't believe a word he just said. "Yeah alright, sound like believable bullshit at least." He deadpanned. "Not any chance you're going to actually tell me what she said, is there?"

"It's just about homework Stiles, that's it."

Stiles sighed and pulled out his phone now, his eyes on the time again. "I knew it. She wants to return the pencils. No normal human being needs that many pencils. Why do you even have that many pencils?"

"I always come to school prepared." Scott was reading the text again, now that Stiles was occupied with his own phone.

Stiles raised a brow, the corner of his lips sliding up to the side. "You know, just in case you break all twenty pencils with your werewolf super strength before lunch?"

“Ha ha,” Scott said with heavy sarcasm, probably something he learned from Stiles himself. 

The text said, "I need your help. Stiles and Lydia, as we both know, are in denial about being completely in love. We have to do something or I'm going to lose my shit. Meet me tomorrow morning at my locker. DON'T bring Stiles."

Scott was grinning to himself, something he wasn't aware of until Isaac with a mouthful of sandwich said, "What's got you so giddy?" He entered the room and dropped a plate of sandwiches at the floor in front of all of them. "You look like someone sent you that video of that dog who helps people cross the street again."

Stiles was now suspicious, looking away from his evident Lydia texting so he could check over Scott’s shoulder again to see the screen. Lucky for Scott his phone was back to being locked. Both boys were looking at him like he was up to something and he needed to change the subject. He decided on casually smiling as he picked up his remote control and said, "Who's ready to get their butts whooped?"

Stiles, taking a big bite out of his sandwich said, "Let's hope that answer is you."

As Scott royally got his butt handed to him in the video game, he looked down to see another text from Allison. When Stiles wasn’t looking he opened it, glancing down in between rounds to see it say: Take it back. Tonight. 9pm. Pick me up.

Scott had to keep his heart from racing the rest of the night. 

-

read part 3 here 

[junemo10]

Okay so ✨Story time✨

Today in AP Bio the online students were put into breakout rooms with in-person kids and observing as they did a lab. And these two Juniors that I got put with were so funny to watch. never met them before, but they really remind me of two people....

Only one of them knew what they were doing, calling him Merlin. The other guy clearly didn’t read the lab, but like im not judging, we are calling him Arthur.

(It is very important you let me use these names) (I will also be referring to my teacher as Gaius. Because I can.)

Merlin seemed passionate about Biology, and he was very kind to us. He narrated everything he did, so we could follow along in the packet (even though we didn’t really need him to, but we appreciated it anyway)

Merlin: I’m going to set the tube into the rack now-

Arthur: they can SEE that. You don’t have to narrate EVERYTHING

Merlin: im just trying to make sure!

Arthur was increasingly worrying me as we started the lab. He was in charge of picking up the computer and tilting the camera to show us what was going on in the lab, but each time he picked it up it nearly fell right onto the electrophoresis chamber (which is full of gel to be used for the DNA samples.) He also was shaking it so badly, the other online girl with me asked him to just put it down.

When using the micro-pipet to put the DNA into the chamber, Arthur wanted to go first, but then he sat for a good 5 minutes trying to figure out how to use it.

Merlin: it’s easy. For real. Just push the button all the way down and don’t lift until you take the pipet out.

Arthur: okay. Got it.

Arthur:

Arthur: wait so-

Then we were working on some of the lab questions, Merlin asked us how we were doing, and we told him we were keeping up with him.

Merlin looked up at Arthur and deadpanned in the most hilarious way: okay so you’re just slow. Hurry up.

When they used the micro-centrifuge, Gaius explained how to balance the tubes, and Merlin was placing them with Arthur (who was holding us) looking over his shoulder.

Arthur: balance

Merlin: yep

Arthur, pointing (computer, *shaking*. my eyes, SWIMMING): b a l a n c e

Merlin: I’m sorry, did you want to do this??

Arthur, in a very quiet voice that we heard perfectly: balance?

After they got the DNA into the gel, we had more lab questions. I did them on my own, because they were pretty straight forward. But then all of a sudden there was a COMMOTION, and I looked up to see this:

Merlin: you dumb fuck that is *not* what the question is asking

Arthur: whoa whoa whoa. This is slander. First of all, no need to swear. Second, what is it asking then?

Merlin: it’s asking about how it would appear if there was 500 pieces of each FRAGMENT, not the entire set.

Arthur: yeah? Well I say we get Gaius to weigh in.

Merlin, practically ready to rip his hair out: FINE. Gaius?

Much to your shock, Arthur was wrong. But he didn’t seem surprised, just smug that Merlin had gotten so riled up.

At one point Arthur hit Merlin in the head with a meter stick. I don’t know why he had it. We didn’t even use meter sticks in this lab.

Merlin, deadpans again:

Arthur: social distant forehead flick!

We had to read details on what came next in the lab, so it went silent as we each read it. So, of course, Arthur started humming and snapping his fingers.

Merlin, not looking up from his packet: read

Arthur: I am!

Merlin, still not looking up: READ

Then they were both confused:

Merlin: wait so he said to take this out-

Arthur: uh huh

Merlin: pour this in-

Arthur: right

Merlin: do I just hold it down with one finger-

Arthur: you just. You gotta do it.

Merlin: for how long though?!

Arthur: we time it for 10 seconds. I think it says here.

Merlin: okay I’ll let you do it then.

Arthur: I don’t have gloves on. You have to do it.

Merlin: okay fine fine. I’m just going for it

Two minutes later:

[loud indistinct chatter of girls from another lab table]

Arthur, seemingly to himself: that’s hilarious

Merlin, literally doing the stressful part of the lab that Arthur is meant to be timing: what??

I think Arthur was banging his head on something at some point?? It was very loud. Merlin was just repeating that Arthur was annoying.

Arthur: -said something I missed-

Merlin: that’s rude. what if you have covid.

Arthur: I don’t

Merlin: you don’t know that. You might. Keep your tongue to yourself

Yeah im not sure I want to know what Arthur said either.

Arthur, talking to himself: I just want to do a lab right for once

Gaius, overhearing: you’re doing it right

Arthur: oh snap. you hear that Merlin?

Merlin, whispers after Gaius moves away: you ain’t doing shit my man

The worst part (and I mean the best part, that had me CACKLING) was during the wait for the gel staining.

They just had to sit with each other, doing nothing for 10 minutes. And they spent the whole time just saying “you’re an idiot” to each other, back and forth.

The other girl and I were just shaking our heads at each other the whole time.

While soaking the gel, they had to wait for 15 more minutes and I’m just gonna make a list of all that occurred:

Arthur sang “pretty woman” but only the chorus several times in a row

Merlin announced: “SCIENCE.” And I’m really not sure what it was over. But it sounded cathartic.

Arthur tried to touch something Merlin was doing and Merlin just swatted his hand and said “stop it”

Arthur: you’re not doing it right-

Merlin: *just glared*

Arthur got more water in the bucket and then immediately spilled on himself

Merlin threw paper towel in Arthur’s face

Arthur, to Gaius, while Merlin stepped away from the table for a second: do we rinse out the buffer bottle too?

he asks, AS he rinses it out

Gaius: I mean. Since you did it. Sure.

Merlin, comes back a minute later: wait what happened to the buffer? Arthur?? Gaius, was he supposed to rinse this out?

Gaius: ....well he did...so it’s fine

Arthur finally put gloves on and immediately whined about it.

Merlin was telling Arthur something about his dog, and I kid you not it was the most civil part of the entire encounter. Arthur’s voice brightened over the zoom

When the timer was up, Merlin almost fell out of his chair trying to reach for his phone, saying: NOT THIS ALARM. TURN IT OFF.

They needed to measure the fragment lines, and Merlin was reading off measurements, Arthur realized too late that he was supposed to be writing them down.

Merlin, says a measurement:

Arthur: I think that’s a little large for DNA

Merlin: what the fuck are you talking about

Arthur: -says his thoughts, I was trying very hard not to laugh-

Merlin: that is just not how it works buddy boi

They called Gaius to settle the argument, and he told them the numbers were fine.

Merlin: I told him DNA just works in mysterious ways

Arthur: oh so you’re saying science is magic now

Merlin: it’s like you purposefully misinterpret everything that comes out of my mouth

And then Merlin finally lost patience for the day, and honestly, I don’t know how he lasted as long as he did. He basically carried this entire lab.

Merlin, sing-songing and doing a little dance: I need to get this right. I’m doing this right (repeat)

Arthur, leaning over the table to look at Merlin’s measurements:

Merlin, still singing, swats at Arthur’s head with the ruler:

Merlin, doing math and saying out loud a number every once in a while:

-Moment of silence-

Merlin: I’m just pulling my numbers out of my ass

Arthur: oh good. Me too.

Merlin: guesstimation baby

And they didn’t forget about us:

Merlin, telling us his results:

Arthur, as if we hadn’t heard everything up until this point: but disclaimer, we don’t know shit

Yes Arthur. I think that’s very clear. But it’s okay. Me too.

Then, when we were all just writing down data, this occurred. And I was CACKLING, and I know Merlin saw me on the zoom just dying:

Arthur: where did my pencil go??

Merlin: I don’t know Arthur

Arthur: no but seriously where is it

Merlin: Arthur I don’t know

Arthur: bro

Merlin: if you ask me one more time

Arthur: well it’s gone!

Merlin: well it ran away because you weren’t using it

Arthur, clearly not hearing him: I’m so sad

Merlin: good

Arthur: did you take it. give it back

Merlin: did you check the floor

[chair SCREECH]

Arthur: you fucking saw it fall off the table didn’t you

Merlin, not looking up: it ran away from you

After some time, Arthur left to go to the bathroom.

Merlin: finally some fucking peace

Merlin, pulling the computer closer: don’t worry guys, he’s gone now. how are you guys doing

I spoke with him for a while, he asked me if I like AP Bio so far and I told him I have no idea what’s going on ever. He said “oh. Is that not what AP classes are supposed to be about?”

Overall, they are literally the best group I have ever been with while online and I’m requesting my teacher to put us with them again.

[keltonwrites]

I bought a house in the middle of nowhere

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.” It was something akin to that, at least. He didn’t mean any mischief, no deceit or planning. It was an honest take on what, at the time, was true. I saw the road into town on Google Maps, noted that it was closed during the winter, acknowledged the reality that a person can own a snowmobile, and I said, “we are not moving there.” But, all good truths are just dares in the making.

And here I am, living in the “there” I said I would not. Two years ago, I left my job at Headspace for a life reset. It was pre-pandemic, and Ben and I were planning a big road trip. Our perfect paradise in Topanga, CA, had crystallized itself as many people’s perfect paradise, and those “many people” all had more money than us. Our options to buy a home were nil, and home-buying was essentially all we wanted. Ben’s a builder and I’m a world builder, and we wanted somewhere to invest that didn’t belong to someone else. We packed the car with the tent and the bikes and the dog and all the things that come with tents and bikes and dogs, and off we went on our own Tour de l’Ouest, looking for a place to call home. We knew what we wanted, knew our odds of finding it, and hit the road anyway. Here was the dream list — concocted by two pie-in-the-sky dummies who married each other:

Not rainy or consistently windy

Notable access to the arts

Remote and challenging to get to/close neighbors

Wild West influenced architecture

Progressive community

Exceptional trail access out the front door

High-speed internet

In our budget

And my personal favorite: had to “feel right” Good luck to us with a list like that, but thus began our hunt. We camped in the snow, tried every dirty chai in the Rockies, and explored every town we could. Whatever a good time it was, it felt useless. Every town Ben was OK with, I hated. Every town I was OK with, Ben despised. And the few places we both loved required money we just didn’t have. We came home with our sails down, limping into the harbor of our rental. But as is the way with romantics, our dreams began to slowly eclipse our reality. Books fell victim to Zillow and Trulia. TV was replaced by the MLS. All writing time was dedicated to Realtor.com. Hours were spent pouring over maps, county records, and updating spreadsheets that tracked price per square foot compared to beds and baths. Over time, all that internetting led to one singular town of 180 people at 10,000 feet in the San Juan Mountains of Colorado with a road that said “Closed Winters” on Google Maps. Look, I don’t know what happened. Ben found this town on a map, I said don’t be ridiculous, and after a year or so of him telling people I'd never move here, here I am, being ridiculous. Was it reverse psychology? Maybe. Was it the charming “town plan” that mandated all houses be rustic cabins and forbade AirBnB? Could be. Was it the fact that when I looked at Strava’s Heatmap, it showed what seemed like thousands of miles of trails just out the front door? I mean, yes. All these things played a part, but all I know for certain is that one day I woke up and said, “we’re going to move there.” Ben doubted this conviction (and the realities behind it) thus cementing it into place in my head. In a town of 180 people there’s only ~60 houses, which means maybe 2 or 3 get listed per year — but my spreadsheet had the proof: we hadn’t missed our chance yet in this tiny town. The data showed a strong likelihood there would be at least two houses listed within the calendar year. This, however, was also our last chance. The spreadsheet also showed that if we didn’t find a house this year, we wouldn’t be able to afford one the next. We called a realtor, made our case, and harangued her until she believed us that we were truly the kind of yahoos who would move to an avalanche field and stay there. And then it happened. A pocket listing. It was a darling home built in 1890. It had the beds, the baths, and the views. We were the first and only to know. We put in an offer, they agreed, and we would come to see the house in a few weeks. But in those few weeks, the circumstances changed. The sellers lost their own sweet deal, and they couldn’t sell yet. Their agent promised we had right of first refusal, it was only a matter of time. Ben lamented, I preached patience, and we went to see the house that was no longer for sale anyway.

It was a quiet winter morning in Covid when we drove across the packed snow to meet our realtor outside the house. The sun was out and the 13 degrees Fahrenheit felt warm. I unzipped my jacket, mask on my face. I took long videos and talked about where I would set up my office and where we’d put the bikes. As we closed up and I settled into a future where this house would eventually be mine, our realtor told us there were comps in the area — other residents quietly interested in potentially closing out. Would we like to see them? Sure, let’s.

One home came with an incredible commercial kitchen. The whole house was a whopping 3500 sq ft if my memory serves me correct, which falls under the category of “houses too big to find your cat in."

Another home had an open-air-to-the-kitchen bathroom.

The third was dark and overpriced with cracked windows and open beer cans scattered about.

And then, plans changed.  “Hey guys, there’s actually one more house we can see.” The last house we saw was a log cabin, nestled in the hillside by itself, with massive A-frame windows looking out onto the peaks beyond. Inside was a labyrinth of a life lived long and large. The cabin was built and loved by a man we’ll call Jack. Jack was 82, and as we walked toward the front door on that sunny winter morning, he exited with two beers in his pockets, headed to the mountain to ski. Jack was an attorney — in his life he’d been both criminal and defender — and from the stories, somewhat interchangeably. There were artifacts from running in the same scenes as Hunter S. Thompson and Willie Nelson; there were stuffed birds, bad books, sheet-covered couches, smoked spliffs, and piles and piles of mouse shit. Every inch of the house was lived in, and not just by people. You think millennials like plants? No. This man likes plants. The biggest monstera deliciosa I’ve ever seen, spanning some 10 feet wide and 15 feet tall. Draping cactuses, spider plants, massive aloes, and an ambitious hoya carnosa clawing its way to the top of the massive fireplace. But there were problems. I’m trying to be diplomatic saying the house was lived in. The wood by the door handles was dyed black from years of hand grease rubbing against it. The carpet in the upstairs was soiled almost everywhere with bat scat. Newspaper was stuffed between the massive logs to keep the wind out. There was cardboard taped over almost every window, blankets nailed over the others. Half the doors wouldn’t open. It was unnerving to touch the crusted light switches. It was early enough in the season of Covid-fear that touching anything felt like gambling. On our way back to our rental in the bigger neighboring town, we shared our awe and our no-ways, lamenting how long we’d have to wait for the little 1890s fixer upper. That night, I sent the video I took of the cabin to my parents. “Can you believe this?” I asked. And do you know what my dad said? “Great log construction.” After that, the cabin was all we could talk about. “Could you believe those plants?” “Did you see how big those logs were?” “I just googled Jack, look at this.” “Do you know what the insulating factor of logs is?” “How much did he say he was asking?” It came down to the plants. Amidst all the chaos in that house, the tender care of those decades-old plants sung the clearest. This wasn’t just a place Jack lived in, it was a place that wanted to be lived in. We made an offer the next day.

Jack had six months to clear out his 30 odd years of collecting, and the town had six months to speculate about the worrisome Californians moving to their high-altitude, high-risk town. The town itself is an old mining town. It rests in a high valley, surrounded by peaks over 13,000ft, and is over six hours from the nearest major airport. Five people died around this town in avalanches this past year. The dirt road into town is littered with avalanche fields, warning visitors to not stop when driving in. The other way out is a pass road, only drivable in the warm months, but you could skin out if it was dire. Most August days, the high is in the mid-60s. The valley is blanketed in wildflowers, and the aspens littering the mountainsides suggest a promising fall display. The town had a heyday, a low day, and now it’s a community of preppers, adventurers, appreciators, and “get all these idiots away from me”ers. We don’t know these people yet, but the ones we’ve met have the same like to live hard attitude we do. Heli-ski guides, ex-CIA agents, woodworkers, bakers, teachers, just a general can-do group of people. The kind of people that see a California license plate and peer with skepticism between the thin gap over their sunglasses and under their caps.

You might say I’m romanticizing the place, but the residents are worse. Like all good old-timers, they’re full of threats: “wait’ll you see the snow drifts,” “let’s see how you do outrunning an avalanche,” “good luck with the winds,” “the last Californians didn’t last a year.” God, what does that remind me of?

“Yeah, I loved it, but she’d never move there.”

With every taunt, my teeth ground more enamel, fingers rolling into a clench. And maybe Jack recognized this intensity, because on the day of closing, he hosted a gathering for us in the town's open space. He had us introduce ourselves to the skeptical locals, and I made my case in court, eyes narrowed and lips curled. “I’m the daughter of a smokejumper and wildlife biologist. I grew up watching the wind and the door. I’ve lived in big cities, small boats, and more than one cabin. I always take the stairs, I never use air-conditioning, and I’m a very good shot.” I’m just a girl, standing in front of a town, asking them to give her a fucking chance. Jack stepped forward to speak. “You know, I had my doubts about a couple Californians coming to look at my house. But these people? These are the nicest people you’re ever gonna meet.” And then I helped Jack set up his cot so he could spend his last night under the stars in the town that kept him young. Cooper ran circles with the other dogs. People brought homemade cocktails and bowls of dip and we felt welcomed. Even the mayor, a fellow writer, came and she struck up a conversation. “I hear you’ve got a little bit of a following on social media!” She teased. “I guess, nothing wild.” “Well I just wanted to let you know if you ever geotag this town, I’ll drag you out of it.” She grinned. This was a special place. And every visitor who couldn’t handle the realities of being here threatened the very wellbeing of the people who lived here. This town survives on a delicate balance. They source their own water, manage their own roads, and fervently protect the land and the people around them. Their stories about racing avalanches, snowmobiling in the dark of night to the doctor’s house, hunkering down in each other’s homes as the storms pass — these stories were bylaws. You can join when you’ve proven you’re ready to join. By their own projection, they are hardy and steadfast people, and when they see a Californian, they see something fleeting. Many years ago, I worked in the British Virgin Islands. The people born and raised there were called Belongers. At the customs office, the placards above the lines literally read, “If you belong, stand here” and “If you do not belong, stand here.” Whether or not we belong isn't up to the town council, and it's not up to these residents. It's up to years spent drifting my old Mustang in the snow on the way to school, up to Ben's months and months spent in the backcountry, up to my years of reading fire reports and assisting with evacuations, up to Ben's ability to read the landscape and the weather, up to my doggedness, his diligence, and our pathological love to do difficult things well. It’s up to us, to these old logs, and to this valley. Doesn't mean we'll belong, but it does mean we'll try. And for the record, the road is open in the winter. But do these sound like the kind of people who’d tell Google that? Next week, a tour of the house that we get to call ours — stuffed with newspaper, run by plants, and filled with mice. P.S. Here's where we get our mail.

Subscribe to the newsletter here. Follow on Instagram here.

[whatissleepeven]

Hey heyyy!~ I hope you're having a good day, Legend! May I request the brothers reacting to MC making a whole meal at like 3am because they slept through dinner and got real hungry,,, Please remember to take good care of yourself!

This ask made me go the humor route with the hcs I'm sorry -

And thank you, I will!! I hope you're doing the same, Dean!

-------------------------------------------------

Obey Me demon brothers reacting to MC making a whole-ass meal at 3am

Lucifer

Lucifer.exe has stopped working

First you skip dinner, and now you're eating at unholy hours of the morning??

On a school day???

11/10 disappointed and a little angry

"And just what do you think you're making at..." *checks his watch because he will not be caught looking anything but prim and proper* "...three in the morning?"

You stop stirring the pot, looking at him as if you were dead inside. Which, at three a.m., you were. "Mac n' cheese. There's chicken in the oven." You state bluntly. "You want any?"

Lucifer's a bit taken aback at your lack of formality with him, but he finds it...strangely endearing. With a sigh that pierced his very soul, he leaned against the counter next to you.

There's a twitch of his lips, as if he's trying hard to not smile. "I'll have to decline this time."

You drained the pot of noodles into the strainer, giving it a good few shakes as you eyed the oven. "So, next time then?"

He frowned, crossing his arms as he glared. "There won't be a next time, now will there?"

You gulped. You forgot exactly who you were talking to due to your stomach currently dying of agony, but his tone quickly reminded you. "Y-Yeah, there won't be! Promise!"

You were going to break that promise and he knew it. Opting to ignore it for now, he glanced at the oven as the aroma of chicken began to fill the kitchen. "Where did you even find a chicken, anyways?"

"I went to Hell's Kitchen with Beel to find out if they had human food. Asked them where they got it from, and how." You shrugged. "Process of deduction."

"I see..." Is all that he said, watching you flit around the kitchen to make yourself a plate. You cut the chicken, happily adding it to your pile of mac n' cheese.

"Beel, it's ready!" You call out, startling him a bit. He pinches his brow as the sound of footsteps rapidly approached the kitchen, a starry-eyed Beel making his own plate.

He really should've expected this.

"Please don't make this a habit, you two."

He'll let it slide for now, and punish you later on in the day. How could he tell you off when you looked so happy eating a human meal with one of his brothers?

Mammon

All he wanted was to grab a Devil Dew from the fridge. Seriously, that's it.

It was dark, so he flicked on the light switch and shrieked yelled once he saw you casually eating big ziti at the counter.

He has questions, but more importantly...

"What the devil are ya doing, eatin' in the dark?!"

You narrowed your eyes at him, jabbing your fork in his direction.

"Either turn off the light or grab some ziti. I made extra."

Well, it...did look good. It must've been human food from the package you had shipped to the House earlier.

“...Alright, human, but just this once!”

It does not become “just this once”

He took a seat next to you, piling some ziti onto his plate and taking a bite. To be honest, he had peeked into your room to see if you were still asleep and panicked once he saw no one inside, so he spent a solid five minutes running through the entire House to catch even a glimpse of you. 

The frantic energy burnt made him thirsty, so he decided to take a break and come to the kitchen and holy shit this is actually really good -

“...Oi. What’s this made out of?”

- And that’s how he discovered his crippling addiction to cheese.

Seriously he’ll ask you if you’re making ziti whenever it’s your turn to cook

“Sorry if I startled you too bad.” You laughed quietly, watching as he scooped more onto his plate with an awed look in his eyes. “You like the ziti?”

A fork was shoved in your face, close to touching your nose. “The Great Mammon doesn’t get startled, ya hear? A-And yeah...this isn’t half-bad.”

Not gonna lie, you were a bit surprised when he actually sat down to eat ziti with you, but in the words of Beel: “Food always tastes better when you’re eating with friends.”

Even though he has the fattest crush on you but we don’t talk about that here

In the end, you smiled softly at him. “Then let’s do this again sometime.”

“Oh HELL YEAH!!” He cheered, and you knew that you couldn’t ever say no to him. 

Especially not with what he added afterwards in a quieter voice. 

“Just...make sure to eat dinner with all of us too, got it?”

Leviathan

“Is this like that one episode of Demfeed: Unsolved where they tried to put aggro on the spirits by eating their favorite dish at 3 in the morning?!”

You...hated that you knew what he was talking about. The two of you would watch that show whenever you were finished with an anime binge, and you were usually laughing at your own commentary (and theirs) than paying actual attention to the process of catching a ghost. Instead, you just slowly brought the spoon to your lips and slurped up some more cereal.

“...If I tell you yes, then will you turn off the light?”

You swear that you have never seen this shut-in otaku move that fast in your life. In one swift motion he flicked the light switch off, grabbing a turquoise bowl and pouring his own cereal.

He took a seat next to you, stars in his eyes as he began to eat. 

“Let’s summon them together!”

And who were you to say no? You were glad that he didn’t bring up the fact that you basically skipped dinner, content to have this quiet time with you in the present.

You lightly shoved his shoulder with a snort. “Let’s hope that we don’t end up accidentally summoning Lucifer instead.”

“Who will be summoning me, exactly?”

You and Levi freeze. Slowly, you both turn to see the eldest brother standing in one of the doorways with his arms crossed and a murderous look on his face.

The tight smile he gave could bury you both six feet under. “It’s good to see you up and about after skipping dinner. Are you making up for lost time?”

Levi nudged you. You side-eyed him.

Without warning you threw your spoon to the ground and yelled.

“SCATTER!!”

And just like Ratatouille, you both bolted out of the kitchen with an angry Lucifer on your heels. You and Levi didn’t get caught, but the next morning you two had to sit and listen to one of Lucifer’s lectures at the dining table.

- You ended up missing breakfast.

(All it takes is the whisper of that one blessed word, and the two of you would devolve into a fit of laughter. Levi still joins you for your “Cursed Meal Runs”, as he dubbed it.)

Satan

He had seen the light on in the kitchen and wondered just who, exactly, would be up at this time??

Especially on a school night day???

(Actually he assumed it was Beel, but it didn’t hurt to go and check it out just in case it was an intruder, now did it?)

“What is- Oh. I see.”

(As you can tell, he immediately gets what’s going on the minute he spots you eating pizza like it’s the end of the world.)

There’s an amused smile on his face as he sits down across from you. “You’ve finally decided to eat something?”

You swallow the food in your mouth, glancing between him and the takeout box you had delivered from Hell’s Kitchen. “I can’t help it that Belphie wanted a sleepover in the middle of the afternoon! ...Okay, I can help it a little, but still; whenever we sleep, I’m dead to the world for the rest of the day.”

He hums in agreement, knowing the power of his brother’s endless soft blankets and squishy but just right pillows. “Instead of making something yourself, you chose to order pizza?”

You put another slice onto your plate, and was- yep, half the box is already gone. You must’ve been really hungry, he thought. “I just had a craving for it and it hits different at night- hey, stop laughing!”

He couldn’t help it. You were just full of surprises, weren’t you? But that’s what made you endearing to him.

He covered his mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise, eyes softening into something more intimate once they fell on your face again. “Forgive me, you just caught me by surprise. Do you mind if I take a slice? Thank you. Since we’re here, I wanted to talk to you about the show you recommended to me... Fringe, was it? I watched the first episode, and let me say...”

Your late-night (early morning) rendezvous ended up feeling like a date. Then again, anything you do with Satan ends up feeling like a date.

(He also lightly scolded you for missing out on dinner with them because it wasn’t a healthy habit to get into, but he hinted at wanting to do this again sometime with you. Overall, he wasn’t actually mad at you.)

...

(Though, the pizza was delicious. Was it because you were with him? You two would have to order it again sometime soon to “test his theory”.)

Asmodeus

Let me be honest, this man is big on his beauty sleep.

Also, he sleeps like the dead.

However, there was one night where he just...could not sleep.

So he went to go rinse some water into his face in hopes of getting out of this stupor when he heard a rustle from the kitchen.

“...-za! Pasta! Put it in a booooooox!!”

...Was that supposed to be singing??

He peeked his head into the kitchen to see you stirring a pot, quietly singing some horrendous song that you no doubt had shown Levi.

“What in the world are you cooking to make you sing like that?”

Asmo’s voice made you jump a little. With a smile you beckoned him over, only after making him promise to be quiet so that you both didn’t incur Lucifer’s wrath.

“I’m making pasta from Mammon’s frozen Hellsauce Noodles. Uh...don’t tell him.”

Look me in the eyes and tell me this man isn’t a prankster. He literally tried to get you to snap a picture of Lucifer sleeping.

He gave you a wide smile, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, don’t worry; I won’t tell a soul...as long as I can have some, of course!”

- Well. This is rare. Asmo almost never has food at a cursed hour like this, much less spicy food. You nod your head over at an empty seat, telling him to just take your plate.

Once it’s done, you both take a minute to chat as it cools down.

“-nd then he threatened to switch my nail polish out for paint. Actual paint!”

...Isn’t nail polish just paint for your nails? But you kept that thought to yourself, letting the disgruntled demon gripe about a certain shady sorcerer.

Having a late-night meal with Asmo was fun and pretty chill, considering that he didn’t attempt to make one R-Rated joke while you ate. It must’ve been because he was tired, but you were leaning more towards the fact that this must be what Asmo was like when he let his guard down.

It was...nice.

“...Thanks for this, Asmo.”

Asmo smiled like he knew what you meant, but then again...maybe he did.

“Of course, love! Oh, but don’t skip out on dinner again you hear? It’s bad for your health to miss a meal.”

Beelzebub

Hungry boi already knows that you’re making a meal before even you know you’re making a meal

You were getting the pots and pans out to make a feast for yourself when you turned around and nearly screamed. Beel was peeking around the corner, staring at you with intent as his stomach rumbled.

“...What are you making?”

Once you calm yourself, you smile and beckon him over. “I planned on making a big breakfast. I may have missed dinner, but this is one meal I wouldn’t miss for the world!”

You didn’t tell him it was because it reminded you of home, with your loved ones (be it friends or family or, even, just you and your pets). You set to work whipping up some French Toast and bacon, having on numerous occasions to lightly swat Beel’s hands away from the food.

He does end up helping you, though. He tries his best, but he sneaks a sausage from the plate when you aren’t looking.

He thinks he’s being sneaky.

(You know. You still let him do it.)

“Beel, can you pull the biscuits out of the oven?”

“Sure.”

It’s a comfortable silence as you two put together a breakfast feast fit for kings. You ended up making more than you initially were due to Beel’s appetite, but seeing the awestruck look (which was accompanied by a wide smile) on his face as he took a bite of French Toast was worth the extra work.

“I take it you like it?”

He gives you a puppy-eyed look. “...Can we have this later today?”

And, really, could you ever say no to Beel when he asks so sweetly?

You laugh as you take a bite out of your biscuit, eyeing the oven because the last thing you had put in were the cinnamon rolls. “Of course. We should still have enough to do this one more time.”

He beams, going to town on the rest of the food. The whole scene is so domestic that you almost miss his next words.

“Just...don’t skip dinner again. It’s just as important as breakfast, and I like seeing you eat with us.”

- And just like that, you promise him to not skip dinner again if you can help it. The two of you do continue to make small meals at unholy hours of the morning, though, much to the ire of Lucifer.

(Also, whenever Beel is making his midnight runs to the fridge, he now drags you along to see if you’d make something. Whenever you do, he’s overjoyed and giving you all the hugs for your hard work.)

Belphegor

...Listen

Listen -

Homeboi sleeps most of the day away. He’s probably the reason you missed dinner in the first place.

“...I should’ve expected this, really.”

You whirl on him, your dominant hand not once stopping in its stirring. Even though it was early in the morning (not even Levi was up), you had a bright look in your eyes.

Your stomach rumbled loud enough for both of you to hear. Belphie raised an eyebrow, the edges of his lips curling into an amused smile.

You coughed awkwardly. “Listen, do you want chicken noodle soup or not?”

He doesn’t eat, but he does watch you bustle around the kitchen with a soft look in his eyes. Something about the whole scene was comforting, and for once he didn’t feel like falling asleep.

“Soup soup soup soup soup soup soup...!” You chanted quietly, bouncing from foot to foot as if it’d prepare the food faster. He chuckled at your enthusiasm, resting his head on his beloved cow-printed pillow as he stared.

“It’s done!!” You whisper-shout, all but slamming the bowl down as you took a seat next to him.

Belphie glanced over at you in amusement. “Is this going to become a common thing with you?” He questioned, keeping a straight face even as you scowled at him.

“You know the exact reason why I’m here in the first place. Just so you know I’m starving, Sleeping Beauty, so please excuse me as I down this piping hot soup like it’s the end of the world.”

That actually forced a snort out of him, shifting to instead lean his head on your shoulder. “C’mon, you don’t mean that. Why don’t you come sleep with me? It’s too early to be eating, anyways.”

You poke his side with your free hand. “Watch it, mister. Again, why do you think I’m here in the first place?”

He said nothing after that, closing his eyes with a small smile. Even though it was early, he wasn’t particularly annoyed; if anything, he felt...at peace.

He didn’t condone you for missing dinner, especially if it meant that he’d get more tranquil moments like this.

For now, though...let this peace last just a bit longer.