#like when you're desperately trying to salvage a conversation

[misskamelie]

Like, I'd be absolutely heart broken if someone told me I'm not interesting or not talented/skilled, because I'd be so humiliating to hang out with people who consider me less interesting than I consider them

[misc-obeyme]

Omg yes lol the characters missing the hole and their reactions to it. It’d be so funny, and fun and realistic!

I'm sorry for the delayed response on this, anon, but I wanted to write some headcanons about it so bad lol! I hope you don't mind that I took the idea and ran with it.

Here they are, the demon brothers, awkwardly missing your hole and reacting in various ways to that scenario. I loved writing this lol.

Thank you for the idea!

GN!MC x the demon brothers

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: attempts at penetration? loooooool (reader receiving obvs), this is mostly jokes but it's obviously about sex so take that as you will?

Lucifer

He's embarrassed. Instantly blushing profusely. Can't look you in the eye. After a moment of strained silence, he asks if you're okay. Not that he hurt you or anything, but he's trying desperately to salvage the situation.

If you start laughing, he'll act annoyed at first, but it will definitely break the tension. After a moment, he goes into long suffering Lucifer mode. Might even say good grief. Hangs his head in shame and frustration.

Reassure him that you think it's hilarious and that it's nothing he needs to worry about. Tease him playfully, kiss him a few times, and lure him back into action. He might be stubborn about it at first, but he can't deny you anything. And so he gives in, like he always ends up doing.

He's just about to put it in correctly this time, but he pauses. You had better not breathe a word of this to his brothers, MC. He makes you take a vow of silence. You agree, giggling the whole time, which finally makes him laugh, too.

Mammon

He's surprised he missed, but he tells you not to move so he can try again. He gets real serious, concentrating on doing it right. You just bust out laughing because it's so funny. First he misses altogether and instead of getting embarrassed, he's just like wait let me try again.

Once you start laughing, he blushes and sits back, folding his arms indignantly. C'mon! Stop laughin' at him, MC! You're going to have to kiss him a bunch and hug him, too, because now he's just offended.

Eventually starts laughing with you, especially if you tell him how cute it is that he was trying so hard to get it right. Okay, well, it is pretty funny, isn't it? And he loves the way your eyes sparkle when you're laughing.

Loves it so much that he forgets his embarrassment and starts kissing you for real, already getting back into the swing of things. Actually jokes about it with you later, an inside joke that makes the two of you snicker while everybody else is just confused.

Leviathan

Might not even realize he's missed at first. Rubbing up against you instead feels so good, he's unaware of the fact that your hole's still empty. The minute you point it out, though, he completely shuts down. He's so embarrassed he doesn't even want to be near you. Scrambles away, covering his face with his hands and blushing brightly.

Reassure him quickly because if you don't, that's it, you guys are done. You might have to talk him down a little bit, let him know that there's nothing to be embarrassed about. He's so sorry, MC. How can you even stand to be with a loser like him?

Take his face in your hands and force him to look at you. Then kiss him all over. Take the initiative. He might be a little soft now, but either way you can bring it back full force with a little hand action.

Levi will need your reassurance, but you can get him to laugh if you joke about it. Tell him you think it's cute. He won't believe you, but he won't argue with you, either. At that point, he's already putty in your hands.

Satan

Realizes what he's done immediately. Blushes, but tries to act cool about it. Forgive him, MC. Let him adjust a little… if you laugh, he might be offended at first, but then he sees that it is actually pretty funny and starts to laugh with you.

In fact, at that point, he might even stop everything altogether and have a ridiculous conversation with you about positioning. Now that the tension is broken and you guys are obviously able to laugh about these things, the next step is to discuss what you both enjoy.

He will still get embarrassed and blushy if he tells you how much he would enjoy it if you put on some cat ears and a kitty bell. Blushes even more when he tells you he'd like to put those things on for you. Try not to tease him too much, but you can't help but smile at how cute it is.

You may have to distract him if you want things to pick up where they left off. It won't take much, though. If he starts talking about logistics again, just cut him off with a kiss. Then guide him into that empty hole yourself. You taking charge like that will make him forget everything he had been thinking about.

Asmodeus

Laughs right away. In fact, he starts laughing before you've even realized what's happening. Once you do, you're laughing, too. Not just because it's funny but because Asmo's laughter is infectious.

You both sit up and he has to lean against you as he giggles away. He's sorry, MC! That was just really funny. You're not upset, you fully agree. It was hilarious. You guys make a bunch of jokes about it. Jokingly asks you not to tell anyone about this mishap. He's the Avatar of Lust! He has a reputation to uphold!

Covers you in kisses because he loves how you look when you're laughing. Might even start tickling you to get you to laugh even harder. After a little bit, he asks you if you'd like to switch positions. Maybe this one wasn't working quite right? What do you think about - he has about twenty other suggestions. It's up to you whether or not you decide to actually change it up.

Once you've made your choice, though, it's easy for him to dive right back in. He's grinning, though, because he still finds it pretty funny and the two of you randomly burst into giggles in the middle of your moans.

Beelzebub

Notices right away. He's not embarrassed, just tells you what's going on. If you laugh, you'll make him laugh. Then you're laughing about it together. Beel is so cute, all blushy still from the activity, eyes closed as he laughs with you.

Sorry about that, MC. Do you want him to keep going? He'll do whatever you ask at that point. Kiss him and tell him that it's okay, to not even worry about it. And he won't. He trusts you to tell him the truth about how you feel. He's able to simply kiss you back and continue on.

And that's about it. You two laugh about it, talk about it for a minute, and then you're right back into it. He doesn't have any hang ups about it. He has no problem accepting that sometimes he makes mistakes. And you don't seem to be upset about it, so why should he be?

When he does get it right, he might say something in a joking way. Like, is this better? You're too full of his cock to give him a witty response, but your gasping, moaned out yes will be more than enough motivation for him to pick up the pace.

Belphegor

Tries to pretend it didn't happen. Hopes you didn't notice. Of course you did and if you say something about it or start laughing, Belphie will get embarrassed. You can't really expect him to be good at strenuous activity of any kind, MC. Even this. Poke fun at him a little more because it's so cute to watch him blush.

He might get annoyed to the point where he tries to stop altogether. Reassure him with some kisses. Tell him you think it's really cute and that you're happy the two of you can joke about it like this. That will get you one of those rare Belphie smiles.

He's a little off kilter now, so you'll need to get him back into it. Maybe switch positions to change things up. He loves it when you ride him, so if you just reposition yourself for that, he'll be turned back on so fast you can take it from there.

Later on he'll joke with you about it, when he's gotten over the initial embarrassment. It is pretty funny and if anything like that ever happens again, he'll just start laughing right away. You find you're just happy to listen to his laughter.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[engie-ivy]

(Part Two of There's Bound To Be Talk Tomorrow! Happy New Year! 3rd of January isn't too bad for a New Year's fic, right?)

1378 words

Read Part One here

Sirius doesn't need anyone to save him, but when a charming man wants to steal him away, he isn't going to say no.

How Lucky That You Dropped In

Baby, It's Cold Outside - Frank Loesser

“Lady Lestrange says her son might be willing to consider you again,” Walburga Black hisses in Sirius’ ear. “If you show enough regret and humility.” Before Sirius can open his mouth to reply, her fingers dig painfully into his arm. “I do not have to tell you how lucky we are that he's even willing to speak to you again, after that stunt you pulled at the Christmas benefit gala. I explained to the Lestranges that you were suddenly indisposed, and did not want to ruin anyone's evening, and therefore requested a server to escort you out.” Her nails press into his skin. “Stick to that story, and we may be able to salvage this mess of your creation.”

Sirius had already refused to pay Rabastan Lestrange a visit to grovel at his feet for forgiveness for leaving without word at the Christmas benefit gala, and beg him for another chance by attending this New Year's Eve party together. As Sirius had feared, his mother had then turned to Regulus, and told him he had to attend with Rabastan, for their family's sake.

But Regulus had surprised everyone by refusing. “You- You always say that- that honour is the most important thing for a Black,” Regulus had stammered. “And I've promised Evan I'd attend with him. I can't- can't go back on my word! That'll make me… dishonorable. Right?”

Walburga had placed her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes, and then she had started scolding him, calling him selfish. Regulus had shrunk in on himself, and just when it looked like he was about to give in, Orion Black, who hardly ever involves himself with his children, had spoken up. “The boy is right.”

And that had been the end of it.

Sirius jerks his arm loose from his mother's grip. “I already told you, mother,” he says pointedly. “He was awful, he made me feel awful, and I had an awful time with him. In no way do I wish for him to ‘consider me again’.”

Now he doesn't have to worry about Regulus being placed by Rabastan’s side in his stead anymore, Sirius does not allow there to be any confusion regarding his feelings towards the man.

“You insolent little…”

While her mother is still hissing insults under her breath, Sirius simply walks off into the crowd. At least his mother can't cause a scene in a place as public as this.

Sirius wanders through the crowd aimlessly, trying to ignore lingering gazes and avoid people trying to stop him for a conversation.

“You disappeared on me,” a voice behind him suddenly says.

“Rabastan,” Sirius says, as he turns around.

“People said some waiter was bothering you, and that you left with him,” Rabastan continues. “But surely even you can't be that desperate for attention that you would sink so low.”

Sirius forces himself to smile. “I felt miserable at that event, while you seemed to be enjoying yourself a great deal. The waiter suggested stepping outside, and I agreed, so you could stay and enjoy your night.” There. Technically the truth, without implying any ill intentions towards Rabastan.

“I know what you're doing, Black,” Rabastan says, taking a step forward. “You're playing hard to get, hoping that by letting me think I can't have you, I'm only going to want you more.” He grins in a way that makes Sirius’ skin crawl. “Well, let me tell you,” Rabastan suddenly takes another step forward, crowding Sirius’ space, placing one hand on his waist and leaning down, whispering so close that his lips almost brush Sirius’ ear. “You're absolutely right.”

Sirius freezes, completely taken off guard. Just when he jerks his head back, he hears a voice behind him.

“Mister Black? There's a phone call for you at the front desk.”

Gratefully, Sirius turns towards the receptionist from the high-class hotel the party is being held at.

“If you could follow me please?” The young blond woman requests in a measured, polite tone.

Sirius nods and rushes after her, eager to get away from Rabastan.

“So, where do I-?” Sirius begins as he approaches the front desk, but then he hears a voice behind him.

“Hi there, don't you look fetching.”

Sirius whirls around. “Remus!” He exclaims, his face lighting up. “What are you doing here?”

Remus grins at him. “I'm here to steal you away.”

“Oh?” Sirius asks, raising an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Yup,” Remus replies, jumping from the table he had been sitting on. “Not to sound arrogant– I mean, if you want to listen to arrogant men, staying at this party actually seems like the best option– but I think I can give you a better time than you can have here.”

“Well,” Sirius says. “Only one way to find out, I suppose.” He holds out his hand. “Lead the way.”

Sirius’ stomach does a flip at the bright smile Remus directs at him. Remus takes his hand and starts dragging Sirius towards the door. “Thanks a million, Marls!” He calls over his shoulder. “I owe you big time!”

“Don't you worry, Lupin,” the receptionist replies, sounding a lot less professional than before. “I'll figure out a way for you to make it up to me. And you were right, by the way,” she adds, leaning with her elbows on her desk and resting her chin on her hand. “He is very dreamy.”

“What is that?”

“It's not the newest model,” Remus admits. “And it's a bit rusty here and there, but I promise you that it does the job. It'll work perfectly fine as our getaway-”

“Bicycle,” Sirius finishes dryly.

“And what's wrong with a bicycle?” Remus asks airily. “It's dependable, a lot more inconspicuous than a motorcycle if you want to sneak away, and a lot less polluting.”

“I thought you loved my motorcycle!” Sirius gasps.

Remus looks at Sirius from over his shoulder as he unlocks his bike. “I love the sight of you on your motorcycle,” he smirks.

“I'll take it,” Sirius laughs.

While a bicycle might be inconspicuous, Sirius and Remus are anything but. After three failed attempts of Remus cycling in a slow pace so Sirius can jump on the back to sit on the carrier, both of them are laughing so hard hotel guests are peering out the windows to see what that's all about.

Eventually they succeed, and when Sirius has his arms wrapped around Remus from behind, tighter than strictly necessary, and his cheek rests against Remus’ back, he realizes bicycles really aren't so bad.

“You're going to murder me, aren't you?” Sirius complains. “This is how I die. This is what I get for going off with strange men.”

Remus just chuckles as he leads Sirius up the narrow, wooden stairs of the old, dingy flat he brought Sirius to. When they finally reach a rusty door at the top of the final flight of stairs, Remus unlocks it with a key he fishes from his pocket and pushes the squeaky door open.

“Wow,” Sirius whispers.

There's a small space where the rooftop is flat, and from which you can overlook all of London. The space is covered by a blanket, and on the blanket are a cheap bottle of champagne and two glasses, plus a box of leftover Christmas cookies.

“You like it?” Remus asks softly, taking Sirius’ hand.

“Like it?” Sirius beams at Remus as he turns towards him. “Remus, I love it!”

From their spot, they have a perfect view over all the fireworks lighting up the sky above London. While the fireworks must be quite a beautiful sight, Sirius can't imagine it can compare to the look in Remus’ eyes before he kisses him at midnight.

Their lips meet while fireworks explode above their heads, unnoticed. When they break apart, they rest their foreheads together and gaze into each other's eyes with similar smiles on their faces.

“You know,” Sirius whispers, taking Remus’ hand and tangling their fingers together. “If you keep stealing me away like this, at some point I'm not going to want to return.”

Remus smiles. “You know,” he says, while reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind Sirius’ ear. “At some point I'm not going to want to let you go.”

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.52 Home

As soon as we settled at the table, I complimented her appearance immediately. I may have been a dating noob, but I grew up with two women in the house and learned a lot about what women liked. She blushed, playfully asking me to stop, saying I was doing too much. See? Simple and elegant. She picked up the menu to hide from me, and I told her to order whatever she wanted and not to be shy. But she placed the menu down and gave me a concerned face instead, and everything inside me tensed up. What have I done now? Am I too late??

"Luca... Why are you doing all of this? I mean, I appreciate it and everything... I'm just a little overwhelmed."

Drat! This gesture was too big, and the whole simple elegance thing was a common thread which weaved together her entire life. I took a deep breath, desperately trying to steady myself and find the right words to explain my intentions and fix this.

"I... I understand if it's too much," I stammered. "I just wanted you to know how special you are to me. We both know I haven't really done a good job of showing you, so I just thought... Sorry to overwhelm you. That is the opposite of what I wanted to do tonight."

Her eyes softened, and a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, making me hopeful my words had reassured her that my intentions were pure.

"Awww Luca! I don't know what to say!"

Thank the Watcher! I'm not sure what I would have done if I couldn't salvage the moment.

"You don't have to say anything. Just enjoy."

The server came and saved us from an awkward yet very tender moment and took our orders, and I was happy to hear she accepted the gesture despite being uncomfortable and ordered something interesting.

I asked about her day, and she began telling me a wild story about a man who had been rushed in for emergency surgery. They thought he had triple threat based on his symptoms and prepared to operate. But before they put him under, he began to yell and writhe in pain. They asked where it hurt, and he said his stomach. He kept yelling, "Get it out! Get it out!" The doctors didn't know what to think or what was happening. Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream blared throughout the operating room, and an alien burst through the man's stomach!

She laughed so hard she couldn't sit up straight.

"Oh my Watcher, you should have seen your face!"

Her laughter was so infectious, I couldn't help but join in. It seemed we both had a dormant goofball trait hidden somewhere.

"Wow. You really had me on the hook," I said, still laughing.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"I couldn't resist!"

"You're a really good storyteller, you know that?"

"Thanks. I love stories. I wanted to be an actor when I was a kid, and I wrote wild tales all the time and acted them out with my toys... Guess that's still in me."

"Sounds like you were quite a character."

"I was an only child. I kinda had to be."

I couldn't imagine being an only child, going through what I went through alone. My sister was my best and only friend, even though she annoyed the hell out of me.

The food arrived quickly, and Sophia squealed in excitement about whatever she had ordered. It looked good enough to snap a picture and hang it on the wall. My dish looked incredible too, but hers had a little extra something special.

As we ate, we continued our conversation, sharing laughter and stories. Despite the time we had already spent together, seeing her smile, observing the expressions on her face, and hearing her voice after only knowing her through words and a static image was an almost surreal experience. I could have watched and listened to her all night. Her presence had an intoxicating effect on me.

Once our bellies were full and our abs couldn't take anymore laughter, I paid for the meal and prepared to leave. I had two things I wanted to do, but one I refused to do at the restaurant.

I pulled out a rose and handed it to her.

"I'm sorry this date was such short notice, but I'm happy you could join me tonight. Uhhh...I'm glad you're in my life, and...I'm looking forward to spending more time with you."

Her twinkling eyes and wide smile were so rewarding.

"Luca!! You're so sweet! It's so funny you did this because," she too pulled out a rose, "I was gonna give you one!"

"No way!"

"I'm looking forward to spending more time with you too, and you are very special to me."

What were the chances two sims arrived at a date carrying not only gifts for each other but also the exact same gift? The feeling of being on the same page with someone was like finding a missing puzzle piece. Just imagine if this one-up behavior continued. A relationship would become a never-ending race to the top when both parties always tried to out-do each other. We'd never stop growing, and progress would never stall. I'd say we were positively laying the groundwork for a strong and stable future.

For the second thing I wanted to do, I asked if I could escort her home. And, no, it wasn't for that. I just wanted privacy. Plus, I wanted to make sure she got home safe.

"I haven't laughed so hard in ages," I said. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you! That meal... It was fantastic."

"Sophia... Can I kiss you?"

"I was hoping you would."

Although I had already experienced my first kiss, this one felt like a genuine first because I mustered the courage to initiate it, and my nerves were unexpectedly jittery. As I approached her lips, my heart pounded in my chest. The same kind of hunger I experienced with Yasmine was there, but it wasn't as intense. Sophia was like a plate of warm comfort food, something you want to savor and enjoy. And I did.

"That was nice," she said with the prettiest smile.

We stood at her front door with our eyes locked in a silent exchange before I realized she might misinterpret my lingering. I mean, if she was down, I would not decline. But we didn't have to do everything in one night. Comfort food, remember? I could come back tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. We had all the time in the world.

"I think I've hi-jacked your night long enough, heh," I joked. "I know you have an early start."

She nodded, though it looked reluctant. I didn't want to go either, but I gave her hand one last squeeze and tried to say goodnight.

"Luca, wait..."

My eyes widened in surprise, and I held my breath as my ears eagerly awaited whatever she'd announce.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Yes," I said much quicker than I imagined I would.

"Do you trust us?"

I froze for a second. This was it. This was the moment I leveled up in manhood. No more scared little boy. After some hesitation, internal pep talks, sweaty palms, and deep breaths, a yes stumbled out of my mouth, though weak and non-committal. My goal for the night was to convey my readiness to upgrade our friendship, and that poor excuse for a response did not come close to doing that. I had to try again and cleared my throat.

"I believe in us," I said in full confidence.

"Then stay."

YES!!

"Okay," I said calmly, trying to hide my excitement. "Yeah. Sure, I'll stay."

She held my hands.

"Not just tonight. I don't want us be apart anymore. Come home to me."

Home...

That word reverberated within me, echoing like a chamber. I was seriously taken aback, as if someone had thrust me into a time warp. It wasn't until I quieted my mind and relaxed my body that I understood why it affected me so deeply. That's what she felt like - home. Comfort food! I'd been confessing it all night, yet I was oblivious to what I actually meant. Moving in with her was sheer madness, and I had never been more terrified. But I took solace in knowing she would be there to face it alongside me.

It shouldn't have surprised me that the first step into the next chapter of my life would be a leap as big as the Strangerville crater. Earlier, I said I shouldn't pressure myself to enter into a relationship right away. We could remain friends until I felt comfortable pursuing something more, and living with her would accomplish the exact opposite of that. But to be honest, I didn't care anymore. All my dreams revolved around being with her, and now, that dream was within my grasp. Despite being consumed by fear, I couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for daring to take the leap. That's what a man does.

[inkrabbit]

The Blood of the Covenant

just a quick drabble thing I did for a young Nihil being comforted by his ghoul

He's still shaking, the sound of her voice ringing in his head as he sits behind his desk, his head down on the tabletop and his arms covering himself. It's a pathetic attempt to hide from the world – to hide from the emotions he felt after their little spat.

“I'm your mother! How dare you talk to me like that?!”

He bites his lip to keep it from quivering, but his heart is still pounding in his chest. He couldn't see her, but all throughout the conversation, he could make out the facial expressions he was sure she was pulling. The innocent, sickly sweet smile she used to show to their guests when they would come over before she would talk shit about them after they left. The feigned confusion whenever she was called out on her actions, whether they be in the moment or in the past. He could tell by the way she was stumbling over her words, trying to backtrack and twist them around to make them sound better. And then, clear as day, he could see the disgust on her face. The same look of disgust that haunted his nightmares when he had told her that, instead of getting a “real” job, he wanted to pursue music. The day he went off to college, she had turned her nose up at him, refused to acknowledge his existence until he “started acting right.”

“You wanted nothing to do with me all my life! But the second I become someone? You can't get enough of me!”

He lets a broken sob escape his lips. What had changed? Wasn't being a musician still a “worthless” career?

He's sure he'll get another call sometime this week from one of them. Damage control he bets. Something to salvage that fraying string of their relationship. He wonders if it'll be his father this time. The old man was always such a sucker for being the one to clean up his wife's mess.

In the midst of his self-pity, Nihil can make out the sound of footsteps drawing closer. He picks his head up, dabbing at his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater and trying his best to blink back the rest of his tears. He watches as the door opens, revealing his ghoul.

“Hey, Ares.” He's trying his best to sound normal as he gives him a smile, but the ghoul is standing in the doorway, silently staring at him. “Is... everything okay?”

“Shouldn't I be asking you that?” He finally walks the rest of the way inside the office, letting the door close behind him. He's carrying a stack of documents. No doubt it's something for Nihil to read over and sign. He's not even sure he has to mentality to do it now. But he can't let Ares know that. He has to be strong.

“Everything's just fine on my end.” He gestures to the documents, desperate to change the subject. “What's that you got there?”

“Work.” He should've known that would've been his answer. Ares never was one to be “professional” about things. Nihil just lets out a small huff.

“That really narrows it down,” he teases. But still, the ghoul just places the stack of papers on his desk. When Nihil reaches out to grab from the top, Ares slaps his hand.

“What happened to your makeup?” Nihil stares up at him, his lips pursed.

“Must've messed it up while I was rubbing my eyes.” He tries his best to give him a smile. “I haven't been sleeping the best at night, so-”

“I know you're lying.” The way he says it is so emotionless, like it's nothing to him. “What happened? Imperator?”

He's silent for a bit. “No.” He swallows thickly, his mouth quickly drying out. “It was my mother.”

“You've never talked about her.” Why would he? There wasn't anything to talk about when it came to his family. They offered him nothing.

Still, Ares is silent as he moves throughout the office, opening the doors to various cabinets. He's waiting. Nihil knows he is.

“I don't have a good relationship with my family,” he settles on. Ares stays quiet as he finally finds what he's looking for: the black and white face paint. “They always thought being a musician was a useless career. My mother wanted me to be a doctor. She said I would be good at it and that it would be good money.”

Ares lets out a soft hum as he grabs the chair that sits across from Nihil's desk. He pulls it around before sitting in front of Nihil. He opens the white face paint first, using his middle finger to collect some of it. Nihil holds still as his ghoul reaches forward, applying the makeup to his face.

“When I left for college, my parents acted like I didn't exist. They didn't even wanna say goodbye.” The memory of it all still cuts him deep. How his mother refused to speak to him after she had said her piece. His father had just given him an apologetic look, but he still stood by her side and gave him the silent treatment.

“So... what? Why is she calling?” Ares asks. He shuts the case for the white paint and pops open the black, this time swapping hands and using his left ring finger to gather up some of the paint.

“Guess she wants to see how I'm doing.” Nihil gives him a forced smile and he hears how his ghoul scoffs. “Said she saw me on the telly and how “amazing” I looked all done up.”

“She doesn't know anything about Ghost, does she?”

“Not a fucking inkling.” He tries to focus on the ghoul's warm touch, but his chest still feels tight. “I asked her why she was calling and she just said she wanted to see how I'm doing.”

“You should've hung up.”

“I felt bad.”

“Why?” The question makes him stop. Why did he feel bad?

“Because she's my mother?” In the end, he doesn't even realize what the true reasoning is, but his response earns him another scoff.

“That doesn't mean anything.” He finishes up with the makeup, looking him over. “I'd suggest you just start hanging up when one of them calls you. They don't offer anything.”

“Have you gone through this?”

“Once. With my father's side of the family.” There's a hateful look that flashes across his face. “They were all about tradition and whatnot.”

“What happened?”

Ares pauses, his jaw clenched, but he ultimately shakes his head. “It's not worth talking about, but I ended up cutting all contact with them. I didn't even acknowledge them at any family gatherings.”

“It was that easy for you? What about everyone else?”

“What about them? I told them what happened and that if they tried to pull the same shit, I'd cut them off too.” He closes the container for the black makeup, finally standing up. “You know what they say: the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.”

He's heard that quote before. His old English professor had made his class analyze every detail of that story. 

“Do you really feel that way?” Ares stares down at him. The silence makes Nihil feel antsy, but he finally sees that smirk.

“I protected you, didn't I?” He moves back throughout the office, going to where Nihil originally stored his makeup. “Could've just let Astraeus kill you and I would've been free of this whole project.”

Nihil finally smiles. “Are you saying you see us as your new family?”

“Get your work done.” 

[motheatenscarf]

Really enjoyed the moment where you get to fight as Thancred, it was up there with fighting as Hien/Lyse/Yugiri in terms of how tense it felt and how desperately you had to hold that line.

Maybe I'm just melee/tank trash tho, I don't fucking understand mages and healing in this game yet, so having to fight as Alphy and Y'shtola was just giving me Arishok war flashbacks....

Anyway, that was a good moment, would have been nice to see him at all try to convince this poor little girl that he DOESN'T hate her or resent her or think she's weak or useless beforehand, but.

Well, I guess he really is her father-figure, he's as emotionally unavailable as the real thing.

Minfilia becoming Ryne and reconciling with Thancred is on paper a good moment. It... would have been nice to have seen this super special deep bond he had with original Minfilia back when they had the chance in ARR but the writing and voice acting were so weak we never got the chance. I guess you had to play 1.0 to unlock that catharsis.

I think they salvaged it as much as they could here in Shadowbringers by at least making it a bit clearer through having Thancred fucking open up a little bit that yeah, he maybe he did keep the original Minfilia at arms' length because of the guilt he felt for her father's death. What he's feeling now is regret for not being there for her more when he had the chance, not just, "I failed to protect her."

The two Minfilias conversing and then everyone talking about how much the originals "kindness and compassion and unyielding character" will live on through the chance she gave Ryne. And I'm like... are you sure we mean the same Minfilia?

Idk, I know there is a tendency for a narrative to place dead characters upon a sacred altar once they die. I've seen it happen with Aerith and Haurchefant, but the difference here is those characters had... fucking personalities that you missed when they were gone, lol. And even then, those serene angelic qualities attributed to Aerith and Haurchefant are actually really depressing because those are two characters who were so fun and vibrant and full of vim and fire. That was the point of them. That's why their loss hurts so much. Minfilia was just... kinda there. Then she wasn't. Her role in the Scions was so fucking expendable that they literally didn't bother to replace her once she died because yeah, we don't... need a useless figurehead. She didn't even have enough moral conviction on her own to refuse blood money from the monetarists in Ul'dah without her mommy around.

This new little girl was born into a dying world with an impossible burden placed on her shoulders and given no chance at a life, a name, or an identity of her own. She was held to impossible standards despite having not one moment of agency and bore the burden of Thancred's anguish and ire directed at her every day for three solid fucking years, hating herself for not being the real savior these people wanted and needed to deliver them from Doom. She was willing to die just to secure a shortcut to access the strength and power she needed to be of any use to people because the world was running out of time.

You got a way better daughter out of this deal, Thancred. I'm glad he finally accept that she's here to stay and that she's a good kid in her own right and she needs him to be the adult here and be there for her. Now hug this girl and tell her you're proud of her or I'll fucking kill you myself.

[supernatural-bias]

CHUCKLE SANDWICH HEADCANONS ☆

• Being on the podcast for the first time is—an experience that's for sure

• Charlie Schlatt and Ted had all reached out to you before for collabs of certain kinds, so you knew them fairly well through the experiences (ie. minecraft videos, to be a beta tester for big projects of theirs, asking help with new editing software even if you were as clueless as them, etc etc.)

• But they'd never once mentioned bringing you on Chuckle Sandwich. Which you were fine with. It's not like they had time to bring everyone on the internet to it at some point, so for now you were content sitting at your computer listening to the new episodes while they dropped

• In fact, that's exactly what you had been doing when a little discord notification popped up on your computer, clicking on Ted's profile picture after pausing the video

• "hey. a bit last moment, but we have a spot open for the podcast right now and wanted to know if you'd like to be a guest"

• Attatched to the bottom of the message was a random meme you had seen him, and multiple others, send dozens of times before. But it still coaxed a snort out of you as you typed your answer back

• "yeah! no problem, mr. milk. just give me some of the details and I'll be all set. also, get some new memes loser"

• Four days later and you were sitting at your streaming set up with your hands behind your head, smiling lightly as they introduced you to the audio listeners. Who by now Ted had made clear he loved to death

• "So! First things first, gentlemen, any questions for our esteemed special guest?"

• "What's the weirdest thing you've shoved up your ass."

• "Alright, that's enough talky time for you, Schlatt."

• Honestly, the podcast went great. You often highjacked the conversation to go on a separate tangent without even realizing it, snapping your fingers with a "Hey! That reminds me of—" before continuing on

• Charlie especially had a great time. For once he wasn't the only one that uncontrollably giggled throught the entire—and I mean entire—games no games or bacon no bacon question

• I picture Ted trying desperately to keep the episode a salvageable one, trying to have at least one decipherable conversation to keep in the final cut before giving up when you Schlatt and Charlie started arguing about which gum flavor was the best

• "It's fucking cinnamon you neanderthal! You fucking pussies dont know how to handle a real mans stick of gum!"

• "First of all, the h in neanderthal is silent, Schlarengitus. If you're going to insult me do it right. And secondly, any answer other than mint is a pure crime."

• "Guys, guys, I think we can all agree that grape is the best flavor. Also, (Y/n), what in the actually goopy shloopy fuck did you just call Schlatt?"

• After most of the episode had been filmed, everyone was in agreement that this needed to be done again. If not for the views, then for the shit ton of fun you all had

• "Hey who knows? Maybe we can do a vlog in real life together and have a beat (Y/n)'s ass for liking the most basic bitch flavor of gum there is."

• "Say that to my face you little—"

• Yup. Good times

[kissagii]

𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕕𝕣𝕒𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕞 (𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟚)

featuring jean, armin, reiner, and eren. part one can be found here

reader is gender neutral so anyone can enjoy <3

warnings: none

at first, jean isn't taking you seriously. making goofy faces, teasing you about how you think he's hot. eventually he calms down though, settling into a relaxed pose and striking up a conversation with you as you work. there are times when you get drawn into the conversation and your pencil stops moving, and when you notice, you scold him for distracting and get back to work. of course the main focus of the page is a serious piece, but in the empty space are little renderings of the strange i think they were supposed to be sexy? faces he made at first. he gets very pouty over how you were making fun of him.

armin doesn't even realize what you're doing. he's so absorbed in his work that he barely registers the scratching of pencil on paper, let alone that the pencil marks are forming his likeness. he assumes you're working on something else, maybe a still life of the flowers down the table. as you watch him secretly you're able to capture the way he furrows his brow when thinking hard, the way he sticks out his tongue when trying to make nice lines on his paper. with so much time on your hands, you make a handful of small sketches, each one showing a slightly different side of focused armin. when you show him your work he's incredibly flustered that you had been watching him the whole time, but he's incredibly appreciative.

reiner has not a clue what to do. should he smile or keep a serious face? could he talk with you? what happens if he moves? at first he just sits like a statue, whole body tense. you break the silence by rambling about your artistic efforts, commenting on the little details of his face as you sketched them out, muttering to yourself about how certain lines looked wrong or right. he breaks out of his shell slowly, at first responding to your comments with little hums, then a few words, then a few more. he gets flustered when you talk about his insecurities with a tone of admiration, and when he sees the final rendition, he can't believe it. "you really see me like this?"

it takes a lot of convincing for eren to let you draw him. he's unbelievably stubborn, and even once you get him to stop hiding from you, he's scowling. in a desperate attempt to get a salvageable drawing out of this, you work on everything but his face. body, face shape, hair, clothing, even the shading and details. he doesn't say a word to you during the entire process. eventually you have to draw his face though, so you give him one last chance to smile. it takes a promise of his favorite food to coax a bit of a grin from him, and you mentally capture that little moment of genuine joy. though his smile was clearly fake, you infused the drawing with the hints of happiness you always remembered in his smile. he still can't believe you made him actually look happy.

[eldritch-spouse]

Hello. I am here to hurt Breg. And not in a sexy times way.

Okay i wanna set the scene. The meeting happens, Breg being a weirdo, Reader and breg finally start dating and being in a relationship, Shenanigans starts and happens, Maybe a year passes but oh what the hell is this? Reader’s slowly falling out of love.

Of course the first idea is “Don’t tell breg this cause he’ll freak out”. But then again, are we really gonna just keep up in a relationship with someone we dont really love anymore? Basically reader’s kinda in a dead end here tryna think of what to do. Might as well be honest am i right?

So reader tells Breg, Tryna explain it real gently to the poor guy. What’s Bregs next move? Kidnapping? Tell them “haha no your not wdym you dont love me anymore”. Like is the dude really gonna try and keep reader, Hoping they can fall in love with him again? Tryna still be in a relationship where Reader doesn’t really love him anymore? Or idk this just gets us killed 🤷

Anyways thats all, Feel free to ignore this. Also fun fact i was typing this while listening to Fantasy by Mariah Carey. Yeah don’t question me. But i do recommend it.

Oh no. Oh no no.

What do you mean falling out of love with him? No. Not even close. Get real.

He didn't go through all this effort just for you to fall out of love, to get bored of him. That's... That's just wrong. How could you? How fucking selfish do you have to be?! "I don't love you anymore."... Just like that. Breg can't understand, he can't- That's not a thing. That's an excuse, and a cruel, pointless, disgusting one at that. Just tell him, okay? If he did something wrong, tell him.

Don't play around like that. Breg really doesn't like that joke, angel. It's not funny. You might not want to say that again.

Breg's first strategy is denial. Denial all the way. In fact, one of the first things he does is leave the conversation, mostly not to hurt you or himself during the initial shock of it. He'll return some time later, pretending the exchange didn't happen, and everytime you try to start the same topic, he'll loudly interrupt, or desperately seek for a distraction. This may lead him to grabbing you too hard in an effort to get to you divert your attention to something else, but the breeder express clear regret when you cry out.

Then comes the silence.

And if you've been around Breg enough (a year will do), then you know this is around the time where you either drop a subject completely or deal with the consequences of pressing on. Breg won't reply to you when you start conversations about falling out of love, and he will oftentimes try to remove himself from the situation or do something to keep himself occupied and to prevent his mind from wondering.

Persist and Breg will take drastic measures.

You get an explosive reaction. Breg will reveal to you how deeply this is affecting him, breaking down into a crying, screaming, snarling mess about how none of it is fair, about how he only wanted to love you, how he's been behaving so well and doing everything right and you don't get to take his happiness away- You just don't. He's furious, he's broken. He can't function without you, he only bothered to integrate into society fully because of you, so you'd love him, see him as a proper mate. By some miracle of God, Breg actually succeeded, everything was so fucking perfect, and now you just had to ruin it, didn't you?

Well no. That's not how this is going to end at all. You don't get to decide.

Maybe it's time you take a break, stay home, and let Breg handle the bigger things, yes? Don't worry about anything, he'll take care of it. Because clearly, the two of you need some alone time. This is the initial stage of the kidnapping phase, and while there is room to salvage your current situation, you're on thin fucking ice, angel.

It's only a matter of time until Fasma stumbles onto this sad scene and advises Breg on how to properly keep someone captive.

[corrodedthorn]

next to you

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader genre: angst, hurt/comfort words: 2,1k warnings: depression, she/her pronouns for reader, adult language, talking about murder (as a joke tho), no use of ‘y/n’, reader really wants to disappear, mentions of insecurities and anxiety, please let me know if i missed anything summary: When life becomes too much to bear, Eddie is ready to carry the weight of the universe to see his favorite smile again.

a/n omg i’m actually really nervous rn, it’s my first attempt at writing eddie fanfiction so i hope you enjoy it! also I'm really sorry for any mistakes but english in not my first language (i'm kinda thinking about part 2 tbh)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Usually, she associated the night with freedom. With a fresh breeze of cool air wrapping around her shoulders, cigarette smoke and whispered conversations under a starry sky. With the infinite immensity of the universe, the moon hanging high overhead, and silence undiminished by superfluous sounds. She usually loved the night.

This night, however, darkness crushed her shoulders and smothered her lungs. The gloomy sky was not endless freedom but a heavy dome that pressed claustrophobically on her throat. The September frost bit unpleasantly into her skin, and the silence only gave room for her galloping thoughts.

Failure.

This word perfectly defined her entire life. She should be used to this feeling by now, the feeling of guilt, disappointment and defeat. Time and again, she failed all expectations. The expectations of everyone around her as much as her own. She should have gotten used to it long ago, but damn it still hurt just as much as the first time.

A gentle breeze combed through the grass where she sat. She fixed her gaze on the forest painting the border of the park and for a moment she dreamed of simply disappearing. Taking off her shoes and running barefoot between trees larger than her life.

Disappear.

What a beautiful word. The beautiful prospect of soothing solitude and the absence of a barrage of responsibilities. Sacred peace and quiet. This is what she dreamed of most every time the world proved too cruel for her. However, just because she dreamed of it didn't mean it was what she needed. She knew it perfectly well and he knew it too.

That's why it was his footsteps that snapped her out of the cosmic void that filled her eyes and soul. As soon as he saw her silhouette sitting alone on the ground among the stillness of the night, her hand clutching a cigarette resting on her bent knees and her empty eyes gazing into nothingness, he felt a slight stab in his heart.

His hands were buried in the large pockets of a leather jacket to hide their trembling at least a little bit. However, that didn't stop him from picking at his cuticles. His heavy footsteps hummed among the grass, but did not draw her attention even for a second. Without taking her eyes off the forest, she took another drag on her cigarette.

Eddie sighed quietly and took a closer look at her hunched figure. Oh how his heart sank at the mere sight. Exhaustion and apathy emanated from her so intensely that their coldness made him tremble. Lately she seemed colder than the chilling breeze of the autumn night that surrounded them. And Eddie didn't like it. Not one bit.

With a calm step, gently, as if trying not to frighten a wild animal, he approached her and sat down heavily on the grass right next to her. Another sigh escaped from between his lips.

"You do realize that you're the perfect target for a serial killer now, right?" Oh how desperately he tried to salvage the moment with a bit of humor. There was a smoldering hope in his heart for her gentle laughter and a slight shake of her head in disapproval. But all he got in response was another puff of smoke. After a few unmercifully long seconds, though, she decided to break the heavy silence.

"That would be a favor at this point." She laughed, but this only furrowed Eddie's brow. His head snapped toward her, and a trembling whisper of her name tore from his throat. Her bitter giggle left an equally bitter aftertaste in his mouth, as if he had just taken a sip of poison. The wind blew harder, combing through their hair.

"Don't say stuff like that." His voice quivered more than the grass around their bodies and his hands still tucked in the pockets. He was sure that at this point at least one of his cuticles was bleeding. "Please don't ever say stuff like that ever again."

"It's just a joke." She rolled her eyes, putting out her cigarette against the ground.

"I know it's not." His intense gaze fixed on her face, as if she was about to disappear and dissolve into the night. His heart pounded against his chest. He pulled his sweaty palms out of the pockets and rubbed them against the material of the black jeans he was wearing.

The hum of the forest became the loudest sound around them. But instead of soothing his mind, it seemed to seep through his skin and sink its sharp claws into his insides. Tauntingly reminding him of his own helplessness.

It was agonizing how badly he didn't know how to help her. How to protect her from the hurricane in her thoughts, which wreaked havoc and mercilessly ripped hope from her soul. Which skinned her alive and left her vulnerable to the cruelty of the world. Who tormented her unbelievably kind heart and gentle spirit. Eddie would have given anything to be able to help her carry this burden, but he couldn't. He didn't know how.

All he could do was to patiently stand by her side and at all costs not let her feel the loneliness and isolation. Show her that she would always have support in him. And pray that it would be enough.

Despite her assurances that his mere presence helps her, Eddie was afraid. Eddie was terrified as such nocturnal escapes began to become a habit. More and more often during the day she would lock herself in her room and in her thoughts, only to then disappear into the stillness of the night and return home moments after sunrise. Somewhere in the back of his mind always remained the fear that one day the rays of the morning sun might begin to flow into her bedroom, but she would not be there. That one night Eddie would not find her, and she would slip through his fingers like loose sand. That was what he feared most.

He wouldn't survive losing her, that was certain. Although lately it seemed as if he had already lost her long ago. Her cheerful laughter filling the room with warmth became just a fond memory warming only his heart. Their playful banters, their late-night rides, shouting out the lyrics of their favorite songs and quiet breakfasts dusted with cinnamon and whispered confessions. All that's left of it was cinnamon in a packet on the counter, awaiting her next visit almost as impatiently as Eddie did.

He missed her. He missed his best friend and the love of his life. He missed his soulmate, his partner in crime. She was sitting right next to him, yet she seemed miles away, lost somewhere in a world bigger than she could handle. And Eddie hated it.

He hated how only in the solitude of the night did she allow herself to feel. How only then did her mask fall off to shatter on the ground like fragile glass, unleashing pent-up emotions with it. He hated the smile forcibly stretched on her face whenever someone asked how she was doing. She was perfectly capable of fooling others, but not him. Never him. He hated how she always put the needs of others above her own and never let anyone help her. She never wanted her problems to become a burden to someone. That's why she lied. She lied that it was just fatigue, that exams were coming up, that she already had plans. Always avoiding a situation where someone would witness her downfall.

But Eddie was there. Every time he didn't find her in her bedroom, he went on an anxiety-filled search to find her and help keep her afloat. He saw her pain, he saw her despair, rage and resignation. However, he never saw her tears. Just as he had never seen such an overwhelming void in her eyes as he did that night.

"You know," His voice dispersed the silence suspended between them. "Wayne has been asking lately when you'll stop by. I think he misses our sunday breakfasts. And they pay him better now, so he's working less shifts. He's noticed that you don't visit anymore."

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her slight frown. With a trembling hand, her pulled out another cigarette and lit it with her favorite lighter. A black lighter with the Corroded Coffin logo, which Eddie had hand-painted for her. The sight of it brought a gentle smile to his face, and the way the corners of her mouth twitched slightly upward didn't escape his notice.

"Henderson misses you, too." He continued his monologue. He knew he wouldn't be able to get her to confide in him, but he swore to himself that he would do anything to make her feel a little less alone. So he kept talking. "At the last campaign he basically interrogated me when 'his favorite lady' would be back, and I had to firmly remind him that you are in fact my lady, not his."

Her gentle smile turned his heart upside down. He took it as a good sign.

"You know, you could drop by Hellfire sometime. You don't have to play if you don't feel like it, but you can just hang out with us. We're starting a new campaign and it's going to be a rough one."

"They already beat Vecna?" Oh how Eddie's heart thumped in his chest at the sound of her voice. Although it was still quiet and slightly hoarse, in his ears it sounded like the most beautiful song.

"Oh sweetheart, you'd have to see it! They totally smashed it!" Excitement filled Eddie to the brim. A wide smile was painted on his face, and hope shone in his eyes. He decided to ignore the fact that the campaign with Vecna had ended long ago. "Also… remember that one solo I've been practicing for weeks?"

She nodded, still avoiding eye contact. She felt Eddie's burning gaze on her, but hers was still glued to the forest.

"Well… I've mastered it! We'll play the song next Tuesday!"

That got her attention. Her head turned sharply, and eyes, wide open in amazement, finally looked at him.

"You're kidding?"

"Nope." He puffed out his chest proudly.

"Oh my god, Eddie that's amazing! I knew you could do it!" Her sincere smile, oh how he missed it.

Unimaginable warmth flooded her heart. A warmth of pride but also of shame that she had missed such important events while she was drowning in her own sorrows. She cut herself off completely from everyone, trying to keep up the mask of the one with no problems, so they can always rely on her, and in the end she let everyone down anyway, because she simply wasn't around. She was a failure even in friendship.

She looked away again, and her figure hunched slightly, which immediately caught Eddie's eye.

"We all miss you. I miss you." He began in a gentle tone. She put out the forgotten cigarette, threw it somewhere in the grass, and her trembling hands began to pick at the cuticles. Eddie reflexively stopped her, grabbing one of her hands and intertwining their fingers. "And right now, I'm very, very worried about you."

"I'm okay." She whispered, as if trying to convince herself. Staring at their joined hands, she realized how much she had missed that warmth.

"No, you're not." Whispered Eddie just as quietly, and his voice faltered. With eyes misty from the tears that were pooling, he stared at her trembling figure. "You're not okay, baby."

And that was all it took for all the walls she had been building up to that point to collapse in a second. Her lips contorted in despair, and from her throat ripped out a sob so heart-wrenching that the trees around them had probably never heard such before. Tears that had been bottled up for years finally flooded her cheeks.

Without hesitation, Eddie embraced her trembling body, cradling her in his chest. It was impossible to hold back his own tears as he soothingly stroked her back and left warm kisses on top of her head.

Time slowed down and the world fell silent. There were only them. Clinging to each other' bodies with all their strength and sobbing loudly, as if begging fate for another chance.

It was an exceptionally cold night, but Eddie's soothingly warm embrace melted the frigid void in her soul, replacing it with hope for another morning dusted with cinnamon.

[love-we-write]

Cosmic Railway

pt. ii: weaknesses that you don't show anyone

Character: SoulmateAU!JakexMC. Genre: Hurt/Comfort, friendship/romance Words: 1,975 Summary: Every day, the same routine. Every day he wakes up with only vague recollections of white magnolias and scarlet chrysanthemums in the fields, losing threads of it before he even gets to jot down what else he saw, what else he felt. A week later, his dreams changed. Where there used to be scarlet red now is a dusky dusty blood, the brilliant snow-white now an alabaster, sickly-looking ghostly hue. Potential T/W: There will be descriptions of mental struggles in this chapter. Read at your own discretion.

Every day, the same routine. Every day you wake up with only vague recollections of starry night skies and blue potted irises, losing all of its threads before you even get to savor the remnants of brief happiness and wonder that do not feel like it belongs to you.

Each day, you wake up chasing that fleeting sense of curiosity, running after that feeling of optimism that wants to look at the world and see it in its bright wonders instead of its frightening dreariness that you’re used to.

Every day, the same routine. Wake up. Lie in bed. Stare at the ceiling. Get up at the absolute last minute allowable for you to arrive on time for work, just enough minutes to brush your teeth, wash your face, put on clothes, head out, and nothing more. Any earlier, and the thoughts creep back. Any later, and the self-berating for your incompetence begins.

Take the bus to work. It helps that on your way to work, you will pass through the brick house and its vast garden of magnolia shrubs and chrysanthemum bushes. You have no idea who lives there, but you think of a quaint couple with their cold iced teas, garden shears, and nimble hands deftly tending to the shrubs in the evenings. You think of contentment, of coziness, of flowers lightly swaying by the summer breezes, and of its proud blooms colorful among the spring mist.

The sight of the garden and the foreign fleeting feeling of hope at the start of your mornings are the things that give you a slight taste of happiness. Happiness that you clung onto desperately, hoping that the day does not come where you and your self-doubt and your self-loathing ruin that happiness like it has so many other things before.

You're trying. You're really trying.

And then, the scenery changes from the quiet countryside to the bustling town center, and you're brought back to your thoughts of responsibility, of the repeating dazed and numb days.

You work a nondescript job in a rather high-paying corporation. It's not bad considering everything else; it pays the bill and it gives a straightforward answer when your parents ask you about your job. In fact, despite its mundaneness, the stability and salary it provides are arguably enviable on the surface, and it does give your parents the room to brag about you to their friends.

But certainly their friends don't hear of your anxious glances to your co-workers; don't talk about you short-circuiting yourself out every day in order to edit yourself and be accepted, wondering if what you're saying is the right thing, the appropriate thing, the ACCEPTABLE thing.

Surely they don't talk about the time when you offhandedly threw a self-deprecating joke in the hopes of making your self-loathing easier to swallow, only to have your co-workers look at you weirdly and nervously chuckle, wanting the quickest way out of the conversation. You quickly and nervously explained yourself (not that that salvaged anything, it probably made it worse if you're being honest), and the conversation ended on an awkward note. Your demons had a field day with that one.

Surely, people do not envy the hyperspeed acceleration of your heartbeat every time you walk past your boss’s room, not daring to look back in case you catch him again looking back at you with that hideous leer. Surely they don't want the nicknames, the disgusting babying tone, the blame-shifting when you made it clear you were uncomfortable.

Surely.

Sometimes, you catch yourself in the bathroom mirror and you don't recognize the girl staring back with dull, haunted eyes. The girl who stares back does not want to stay, but does not know what she wants to do should she leave. The girl who stares back hates herself for choosing stability over her sanity, and yet also hates herself for not having the confidence that her sanity will not crumble should she lose that stability.

The girl who stares back is unsure of tomorrow and hates herself for it.

Every day, the same routine. But every so often, when you feel at your sanity's end; breath picking up, brain short-circuiting, and legs giving out, you hear a voice inside your head? heart?

A foreign voice. Someone, you don't know but it feels like you do from a long time ago.

'You're okay. It's going to be okay.'

He’s here again. Floating and weightless between the stars in the sky and the flowers on the ground; existing and yet not. Like an apparition floating somewhere, surrounded by scenery that looks from this Earth and yet does not feel like it.

Jake knows; aware and lucid that he is dreaming.

But through his eyes, he sees it. Sees the fields with the snow-white magnolias and the vibrant red chrysanthemums magnolias amongst the lush greeneries. The scenery moves away from him at a constant speed, morphing from vast fields into what looks like a town square, surrounded by buildings of glass and bricks. It’s a view that is beautiful, full of vigor and life; life that Jake knows he appreciates if ever he gets to witness it in his life.

And yet, something inside him sees this magnificent view and feels nothing.

This sensation does not feel like it belongs to him. Who is here with him? Despite knowing it’s useless, Jake still turns around hoping to see someone else whose heavy slithering thoughts belong to. But, as expected, he is alone.

It feels like he is experiencing a world and yet disassociating from it; like watching something from a TV and yet be part of the show. Like he is intruding on something; something unknown, and something not his.

He sees a pair walking beside him; a man and a woman; both with light hair and bright eyes. He sees them laughing with a skip in their steps, a picture of typical happiness, and yet--

“You look like you could use some caffeine,” you hear the cheerful tinkling first before you feel the warmth of the thermos - no doubt filled with scalding hot coffee - pressed against your cheeks. Not long after that, Jessy appears in your peripheral, catching up beside you with a slight skip to her steps.

“Hello, you two,” you greet back, smiling slightly and acknowledging both Jessy and the additional person to your inseparable package trio that is sure to come anytime now.

“Thought that was you we saw just now getting off the bus, now we could walk you to your next bus stop,” Richy comes up to you grinning widely. Chuckling quietly, you take a small sip from Jessy’s thermos, reveling in the warmth from the coffee and also the small escape it gave you from the conversation.

He has never met these two people in his life, and yet his consciousness tells him that he knows them all his life. The sense of familiarity and normalcy that comes with these two invokes a sense of comfort in him the same way seeing Lilly and Hannah would, and yet beneath that warmth of comfort, there are also the cold tendrils of guilt and shame slithering down his throat and snaking down his spine; a most unwelcome feeling that leaves Jake shivering.

"What do you say we go for beer later this weekend? It's been so long since we last saw you," Richy asks as he walks beside you, and you felt the same oncoming dread wash over you.

He means well. Both of them do; it is true that the three of you have long since spent time together. Somehow, despite the months of you turning down the invitation to spend time with them in favor of being alone in your increasingly empty bedroom, they still think of you, still trying their best to include you in their lives and be a part of yours.

However, what spark of gratitude you feel inside you also comes with the heavy overburden that weighs on your stomach; the constant whispers of how better off they would be walking a separate path than trudging, waiting, helping you with your baggage. The feathery unsettling fingers grip on your heart when you wonder how long you will keep hurting them whenever you brush them off, how long until they decide that your standoffishness is not worth their time, how long until they discover that you’re a sham of a friend and a shell of a person.

Jake feels heavy slithering coils; how they tighten and they tighten around his stomach and his throat until it overwhelms and almost suffocates him.

“Uh, can we… perhaps take a raincheck on that?” you reply lightly, hoping that the subject gets dropped. You do not miss how Jessy’s eyes dim a little and the discreet but dismayed look she shot at Richy, and the guilt tightens around your throat.

You see Rogers’ Garage coming up ahead of you where the two of them would make a left and leave you alone to carry on your walk to the next bus stop, where you will take another bus to the high-rise city where you work. That short distance feels like a mile to you.

"Hey, you’re okay...right?" the small voice calling out from behind you stops you in your tracks. You turn back, and by the dusty cobbled pavement, Jessy stood resolute with eyes begging, almost desperate to reach you. Ready to hear you, letting you know that it is okay and she will be there if you call out to her. IF you call out to her.

Jake hears the chants going on in his head, a cacophonic cycle of repetitive whispers, screaming at him inside him

iamnotokay whatiswrongwithmewhyamisoweakhelpPLEASEHELP-- willyoufuckingSTOPBURDENINGTHEM--

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you smiled back. You don’t even stop to see the dismayed look from Jessy and Richy, don't stop to care how your smile does not reach your eyes before you turn and keep walking.

it feels like walking through a grey murky sludge. the whispers inside him continue on and on like a broken record, a dark cloud that only goes darker.

Jake reaches out his hand, hoping that he could reach and hold on to whoever is on the other side.

Every day, the same routine. Every day he wakes up with only vague recollection of flowers in the fields, losing threads of it before he even gets to jot down what else he saw, what else he felt. Each day, he wakes up closer to feeling that the dreams were not dreams at all, at least, certainly not coming from him. That there is someone out there who is seeing all these sceneries, living these dreams.

He even got close to hacking some satellite data to use what small bits of memories he has of the flowers as his starting point, see where in this world exist such fields with the brilliant magnolias and chrysanthemums. Make sure he’s not going crazy from seeing the same images over and over again.

Still, every day he wakes up from the same dream to the same reality.

A week later, something changed.

The flowers; they changed. No longer were the chrysanthemums bright red and the magnolias snow-white, no longer were the fields green, in their place what feels like an imposter stands in his recollection and dulls the flowers. Where there used to be scarlet red now is a dusky dusty blood, the brilliant snow-white now an alabaster, sickly-looking ghostly hue.

And with the washed-out, tired scenery comes biting regret and bitter desperation that washes across every fiber of his being when he wakes up, an unfamiliar wave of unpleasant aftertaste that hangs and stabs at him and makes him choke out a sob.

That day, Jake woke up from his sleep gasping, with tears threatening to fall.

More Chapters

pt i: wandering around the far ends of the sky

pt ii: weaknesses that you don't show anyone

pt iii: in the midst of time, let's meet

pt iv: a place where you can be at ease

pt v: rendezvous under the twinkling starry sky

pt vi: to return besides my beloved you

pt vii: no matter how many times, let's cross paths again

[my-mt-heart]

Hi there! I hate that "find me" note too. But I think it was just a manifestation of Daryl's desperation, all building up to that point. Carol quite frankly confused him (since you could see how choppy their communication was in that episode during the flashbacks). Daryl clearly wasn't handling the situation between him and Carol well, i.e. the separation. Not seeing each other everyday. Remember in season 9, he said he didn't like not seeing her and to Rick about how everyone is split up. And in 09x07 he hardly looked at Carol before the haircut scene because he was struggling with his feelings. Remember how he said to her in that episode "wanna tell me why you're really here" and his incredulous "you want me to babysit your boy???" Because Carol couldn't possibly want to see him for him. So flash to the despised note and everything, he thought he read their bond "wrong". That he and Carol didn't have similar definitions of "togetherness" and "being a group" and "belonging". Whenever Daryl is emotionally compromised, he becomes desperate. Trying to salvage something. Trying to do something right. So he "chose" Leah. After Carol. But it turns out, he was wrong because Leah left. They clearly are not meant to be. And the "peace" Carol was talking about wanting Daryl to experience was not to be found with Leah. But Daryl thought so at the time, based on his conversations with Carol and trying to fuse his own desires to be the way he and Carol used to be and somehow adapt that to his new situation with Leah.

That's how I see it, honestly...I don't know if you share similar thoughts? Thanks!

I do share similar thoughts. In fact, I believe everything you said to be true. I still hate the note. When Leah is long dead and Carol and Daryl are halfway to New Mexico, I will hate that fucking note. Forever and always.

[anthrat]

Frayed Stitches

Kakuzu/Reader

The tears just wouldn’t stop. No matter how hard you tried, how much you forced yourself to push those feelings of anger, sadness and hatred down they wouldn’t leave. They kept rising up, they were a constant threat to your image. You couldn’t let Kakuzu see you like this. You already knew what he’d say.

2243 words

A/N: I actually wrote this instead of writing my linguistics essay so here's to hoping it's actually good hehe :)

A little over a year had passed since you’d joined the Akatsuki, you could scarcely remember what your life had been like before. You’d never achieved much. Running from village to village as a paid assassin, willing to do anyone’s dirty work for as long as they had the money. You had no loyalties, no friends, no comrades, nothing. Your situation wasn’t an especially uncommon one either. On your travels, you’d met hundreds like yourself. Internal strife meant there was always work for people like you, people who thrived off discontent.

Your admission into the Akatsuki had been a reluctant one. Pain himself had scouted you out, requesting you join. You’d initially declined, however, Pain had insisted, coercing you to bet your freedom on a fight. Win and remain free, lose and become tied to an organisation you didn’t care about. Needless to say, you lost the fight. Even now you still didn’t care about the goal of the organisation, heck, you barely knew what it was. You simply did what was asked of you, not wanting to make a fuss. Running away was futile, so you just had to make do with the circumstances.

On your arrival, you’d been introduced to the other members in what you could only describe as the most uncomfortable situation you’d ever been in. Nobody seemed especially enthusiastic to be there, and nobody seemed to care about you joining. The only person who had even attempted to make you feel welcome had been Kisame, he’d given you a toothy grin as he introduced himself, remarking that he looked forward to working alongside you. It was here you were given an insight into the aims of the Akatsuki, at least you think you had been. You’d struggled to focus on what Pain was saying, distracted by the eyes of each member boring into your skull. This was also the moment you were partnered with Kakuzu, or in other words, the moment you were forced into Hell. You’d remembered how the older man had barely batted an eyelid when you were told you’d be partnered together, the way he’d muttered something about how he would be better by himself, his cold eyes piercing your body as he’d threatened to kill you if you got in his way. You had initially dismissed your partner's morbid comment, assuming it was simply a tough-guy act to make himself appear strong in front of the other members. However, before leaving to embark on your first official mission one of the other members had gently placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a toothy grin before whispering something you’d never forget into your ear.

“You're the fifth to be partnered with Kakuzu. Don’t die.”

Your partnership with Kakuzu had been one which could be easily described in one word. Hell. From not caring whatsoever if you were caught in his crossfire, to forcing you to walk for days on end with absolutely no breaks the man was a tyrant, a monster. You found yourself unable to ever completely relax, your body was in a constant state of emergency knowing full well if you let your guard down for even a second that would give Kakuzu the opportunity to strike. Thinking back on those Hellish times you wondered what had kept you going. Death would have been the easy way out, yet you’d persevered and for what? You’d found yourself growing attached to the grumpy old fuck, you hated to admit it but it was true. Recently you’d found your mind drifting when you were around Kakuzu, you no longer felt like he was an immediate threat. You’d been able to learn his attack patterns and formulate battle strategies which benefited you both. You’d been talking with each other more too, although Kakuzu’s answers were always abrupt and uninviting he was at least finally responding. On the rare occasion, Kakuzu himself had even tried to spark a conversation, although it usually revolved around money. Not long ago you’d even cooked together, well… Maybe it was a stretch to call it cooking. It was more like you’d forced him to cut the mushrooms you’d gathered for lunch after he’d spent roughly ten minutes complaining that you were doing it wrong. Watching his skill with the knife had made you wonder why he always refused to cook meals, he was clearly much better than you were. Given his age and experience you always felt like he’d probably find your cooking skills lacklustre, yet he never once complained about your sub-par skills. This had led you to believe the stoic and grumpy ninja had a slight soft side, or maybe he just really didn’t care.

You raked your hands through your hair, trying to steady your own breathing. Why were you thinking about Kakuzu at a time like this? The man who had brought you so much pain and suffering, and yet was the only person you could trust. He was the only person who hadn’t abandoned you. Placing your hands over your mouth you tried to stifle your cries as you doubled over, cowering into your knees. Your whole body convulsed from the pressure of the wrangled sobs which were trying desperately to escape from your body. You wanted nothing more than to just scream, to let your tears flow freely, to remove the constraints you’d placed on your emotions. Yet you couldn’t. Not here, not now. Kakuzu would hear you, he’d see you. You already knew what he’d say. You’d spent so long carefully constructing an image of yourself, an image which portrayed only strength and aggression. One of independence. One which implied you were able to find joy in your solitude, that you were proud of the person you’d become. Yet here you were, crying on the floor of your rented room like a little bitch. If Kakuzu saw you now he’d know it was all a lie, he’d see you for what you really were. A terrified young shinobi who was in way over their head. An incompetent fool who’d been forced to abandon everything. An idiot who couldn’t even take their fate into their own hands. You tried yet again to steady your breathing, squeezing your eyes shut as you scrunched up your face, balling your hands into tight fists and pushing them roughly against your eyes.

“Breathe normally you pathetic fucking bitch” you muttered to yourself, forcing your legs to move out from beneath you. Forcing yourself to stand. You were going to go and have a shower and clean yourself up. After that you’d forget about this tiny little slip-up, you’d completely wipe it from your memory dismissing it as nothing but a silly dream.

“What are you doing?”

You froze. Shit. How had you not heard him return? This is why you couldn’t let your guard down, you’d let yourself grow comfortable and for what? For Kakuzu to stumble upon you at your absolute worst. Maybe you could salvage the situation, he could only see your back after all. Straightening your back, you let out a long fake yawn, stretching your hands up to the ceiling, then dropping them to your sides as you began taking slow steps in the opposite direction to where Kakuzu was stood, your eyes desperate scanning the bare walls for something, anything, you could use as an excuse to not turn around and face him.

“I’m bored. There’s nothing to do.” You winced, even to you your voice sounded impossibly thick. Unless Kakuzu was actually brain-dead you didn’t have the slightest chance of escaping him unscathed. Spotting your bag in the corner of the room you marched towards it and squatted in front of it, opening it up slowly you rummaged around mindlessly. Acting had never been your strong suit but you hoped this was at least mildly convincing. The silence between the two of you was almost deafening, had you not been able to feel his steel-like gaze piercing through you you may have assumed he’d already left. You breathed a sigh of relief as you heard Kakuzu’s feet move, although that relief was quickly displaced with immediate dread as you realised he was walking towards you. Ducking your head you tried to make your bag rummaging more convincing, although at this point you knew it was pointless.

“What are you looking for?” You felt a shiver run down your spine as the older Shinobi spoke, his deep gravelly voice always put you on edge, no matter what he was saying. You hummed loudly “Nothing in particular. Do you want something?” you inwardly cringed as your voice cracked, you could already feel the pressure building up in your throat. Your body wanted nothing more than to completely break down but that wasn’t an option right now. You tried to control your breathing, praying that he would leave.

“We have a mission. We’re leaving early tomorrow morning”

“Right. Is that all?” you snapped, instantly regretting your tone as you felt a strong hand grip your shoulder.

“Look at me when you speak to me” Kakuzu growled. You felt tears prick your eyes. God not now, please not now. Forcing a laugh you tried to swat his hand away which only caused him to tighten his grip. “Pathetic really, I come all this way to tell you we have a mission and this is the thanks I get. I could have easily just left you here all by yourself-” You’d had enough, gripping his hand with your own you tore it from your shoulder. Turning to face the surprised Shinobi with tears streaming down your face. “Just shut up! Shut up! Leave me the fuck alone!” you screamed as your arms flailed wildly in a series of punches and slaps, each one directed at Kakuzu’s chest. You felt his skin harden beneath your fists, you didn’t care if you weren’t hurting him. You just wanted him gone. Your breath rasped as you repeatedly flung yourself at him. He just stood there, completely still, his face unreadable beneath his mask. Yelling in frustration you turned away from him, picking up your bag and tossing it across the room. “Just fuck off!”

“Me or the bag?” He retorted, Taking a step towards you. You attempted to throw another punch at him, this time however he swiftly caught it. His large hand enveloped your fist as he pushed it harshly down to your side, his eyes meeting your own. There was something different about his gaze, it was still his usual stone-cold glare yet there was something… Almost like guilt? Or maybe it was sadness glimmering within its depths. You tried to disentangle your fists from his grip to no avail. “Kakuzu please, leave me alone” you begged, your voice barely a whisper. He sighed heavily, his feet shifting slightly as he pulled you into a rough and uncomfortable hug. His arms wrapped stiffly around you for a few seconds before he quickly withdrew them and pushed you away. You were in a state of complete shock, your entire body seemed to be malfunctioning. Had you took the time to look up at Kakuzu you might have noticed the delicate shade of pink decorating his face. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave you be” He muttered. Before you could even compute what had happened, never mind think of an adequate response he had already left the room. Leaving you completely alone once again.

You shook your head roughly, it must have been a dream, right? Had Kakuzu, the man devoid of any and all emotion, really just given you a hug? You laughed, you couldn’t help yourself. Maybe you’d finally turned insane. The hug had been possibly the absolute worst you’d ever received in your life, yet somehow you felt lighter. His body had been warm. So warm. So muscular. You pinched yourself, what on earth were you thinking? Had several years lacking in human touch really made you this desperate? Smiling to yourself you wandered aimlessly towards your bed, heavily flopping down on it to stare at the ceiling. You lay like that for a good while, your head spinning with thoughts of Kakuzu. You didn’t know what to make of this advancement, had he hugged you out of pity or was it something else? With your thoughts still racing you slowly drifted off into a deep slumber that lasted until dawn. You weren’t awoken by the entrance of a mysterious masked man who gently placed a duvet over your body. You didn’t see the soft smile which adorned his face as he did this, you didn’t notice the extreme care he took in order to not wake you as he tucked you into bed. You didn’t hear him as he gently whispered goodnight before he left. The next morning you’d wake up, completely unaware of just how much Kakuzu cared about you. Unknowing of the suffering you caused him. To openly reveal his admiration for you would be to reopen old wounds. After all, if you ever found out just how much he cared it would ruin the image he’d spent years constructing.

[seoultrippins]

focus | pjm | 01

Summary: Park Jimin is an extremely accomplished con man who takes an amateur con artist under his wing. What he did not see coming was you and him being romantically involved and with Jimin’s profession of being a liar and a cheater for a living, he realizes that deception and love are things that don't go together. Or could it?

Pairing: Reader x Jimin

Genre: Crime, Conman!Jimin, Conartist!Reader, Smut, Fluff

Word Count: 2851

Warnings: Cussing, Slight groping

Status: 1/?

A/N: Hey! It feels nice to be writing on tumblr, I've always wanted to. I 've grown accustomed to publishing my writings on AFF but I thought it'd be pretty cool to start publishing here. I hope you enjoy reading and I am not too sure how many parts there would be but either way don't be a silent rider. The smut in the next chapter will be intense however, so bless me.

From the lazy spin of the fans, to the recumbent light of eventide that will soon be starlit black, the bar soaks in the ambiance of this good night. It's a bar, in a hotel that has a name you could barely pronounce but everyone is attempting to appear proper in their high end suits and attire, as you are. Fidgeting through the skin tight dress you had on, you rested your arm on the bar countertop as you analysed the surroundings. The bar is hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the live jazz music that dominated the atmosphere. The crowd had a mixture of the young and the old and it was perfect. Perfect to source out for your very next victim. However, as you searched the throng, you felt a strong warmth around your waist and turned around as your eyes met with a desperate pair. Dressed in a suit two sizes bigger than required, the sloppy looking man insisted he had you in his arms. You wrinkled your brows as you realized where this was going, and it was destroying your good mood. Nervously, you removed the man’s hands away but his persistence remained. Whispering filthy nothings in your ears, your hands reached out to push the man away. Frustration boiled through your veins as you desperately thought of ways to remove yourself from the dreadful situation.

“Okay, you know what,” You chuckled nervously. “My boyfriend could be here any minute.” Your hands were busy pushing his persistent hands away as he laughed.

“Yea? I don’t see anyone. C’mon baby, no point lying..”

Rolling your eyes, you eyes scan through the crowd. Eyes evidently searching for someone you could confide in and that did it. Your eyes landed on the gentleman feasting on his dinner. Your eyes widened, handsome is a state of soul that carries through that man. He had that kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. He must get used to that, the sudden pause in a person’s natural expression when they looked his way followed by overcompensating with a nonchalant gaze and a weak smile. Lips curling into a soft smirk, you tug the annoying man harshly, eyes meeting his as he pulls away in shock.

“Look, he’s there.” Your index finger pointing to the handsome gentleman who caught your attention confidently. “Fuck off, really.”

Walking past the bewildered drunk man, you breathe your nerves away as you approach the gentleman. You watch the way he sits with such elegance - so poignant and dignified. His white suit was tailored to his frame, and his unbuttoned dress shirt allowed his flawless skin to breathe while his fingers were adorned with precise lines of metallic rings. Fingers wrapped delicately around his wine glass as you watch his eyes shift towards you when voluntarily slip into the seat in front of him. Placing your baguette bag to your lap, you watch him raise his eyebrow in question as you lean forward to explain yourself.

“Could you -” You stopped, turning around to look at the creep still standing by the bar countertop looking right back at you before whispering. “Do you mind being my boyfriend? Like just for a minute.”

Staring at the man in front of you, you watch him smirk behind his glass before gently placing the drink down as he leans back against the soft cushion of his chair. Extending his long, toned legs into a manspread, he leans his face against his fingers as he watches you. Growing confused, you began to fidget in your seat.

“You - you’re not a serial killer are you?” You asked.

He stares, fingers playing with his rings as he shrugs. “That depends. How many times does it take to get to “serial”?” He shoots back.

Your face contorted into a genuine thoughtful expression as you answer. “Uhm..five..?”

“Oh then, no we’re good.” He leans forward as he answers you with a straight face.

This man was something else. You thought to yourself as your lips curled into a smile upon hearing his response. Hand stretching out, you introduced yourself.

“Y/N”

“Jimin.” His fingers slip comfortably into yours as he shakes your hand. It was brief, friendly even - but the way his attractive gaze stayed on yours made it oddly intimate.

“Ha Ha, funny.” You mocked, as you took a sip of the red liquor swirling in the shiny glass. “I only came to you because you seemed awfully lonely. Eating your dinner like that, I just felt so so bad..”

“Yea?” He prodded you with an eyebrow raise. “Then that’s also the reason why you’re here alone, waiting for a non-existent boyfriend you can use to chase away creeps?”

Okay he had a point.

“Hey!” You frowned. “A girl needs time alone alright? Also, you started this unnecessary feud on how you were the best choice in this damn bar. I was just trying to avoid ending up in the newspapers as a missing person.” Your frustration is evident in your tone as he watches you intently.

Not long, the both of you were bursting into bits of laughter as you recount the trivial conversation. Your eyes shifted to your wrist, taking note of the 30 minutes you’ve spent conversing with this stranger and everything seemed oddly perfect. Too perfect even.

“Thank you,” You said as he rested comfortably on his chair. “Thank you for saving me.”

His lips curled up slightly as he nodded. “Yeah, yeah we definitely showed him.” He says as his head points to the creep. The only difference was that he was knocked up, completely unconscious on the countertop.

You laughed. “Damn, was that what I was missing out on?”

As he laughs along, you watch him shift, toned body leaning forward and you couldn’t help but take note of the way his necklace dangled over his neck as he stares at you. “Can I walk you somewhere?”

The air in your lungs became stuck in your throat. This guy was extremely beautiful. His voice sounded like melted honey and it took all you had not to lean forward and take his lips in yours.

“Um,” You began. “I’m actually staying here, upstairs.”

“Really?” He says but you watch the way he fidgets in his seat, hands adjusting his rings and he runs his fingers through his hair - throughout, his gaze is fixed on you.

“Let me walk you there then.”

"Fuck." Jimin was nestled under you, your hips grinding against the evident arousal between his thighs as you drag your lips down his neck.

You shivered, feeling the way his hands travelled down your frame to your ass, squeezing the thick flesh mercilessly as forcefully grinds you against his arousal.

"Fuck Jimin, fuck do that again.." You whimpered.

Lips intertwined, you heart drops to your stomach when you took sight of the way he smiles between the kiss. You nearly forgot why you brought him up here in the first place. Not until the loud sound of your hotel room door crashing open did you remind yourself that you had a task to perform. Rolling your eyes, you switched into character.

"Oh fuck! It's my husband." As you watched Kihoon enter the room, you sprang into the area next to Jimin. Kihoon's fingers gripped tightly on the rifle as he pointed it towards Jimin's face.

"Kihoon wait-"

"Shut the fuck up." Kihoon groaned, his eyes gleaming as he faced Jimin.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Jimin voices, palms up as he surrenders himself to the situation but you couldn't ignore the slight tint of smile in the corner of his lips as he does so. Is this man a fucking psycho?

"Just let him go Kihoon."

"You fucking cheated. No way, he's fucking dead." Kihoon screams, lines of veins bulging out his reddening neck as he does so. You noted the sweat crowding his forehead. "Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn't do it."

At this moment, your heart was racing. You knew there was no intention of shooting Jimin, and it was aggravating to see the man next to you undisturbed by the scenario. His surrending palms were now resting comfortable under his head as he watches you. You sighed internally, coming up with a respond to Kihoon but Jimin cuts you off.

"I'm drawing a blank." He says, eyes shifting away from you to Kihoon.

"What?" Kihoon mutters, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I think you should shoot me." Jimin continues, smile creeping onto his handsome face. "Let's be honest, you've been aggrieved."

"Don't mess with him Jimin. He's done hard time." You tried to salvage the situation as you fidgeted in your spot.

"Yea man, I've done fucking hard time!"

Jimin chuckles, eyes lazily shifting as he stares at you. "Man, if you had any idea what I was about to do to her-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Kihoon yells, his rifle still pointing at Jimin's face, but this man remains unconcerned.

"Please, come on, shoot me." Jimin urges. "You're really doing me a favour. Cancer. Tumour, the size of a peach." He lifted his hand to offer a visual representation as he chuckles. "Shoot me, you'll see."

"Fuck!" You groaned, rolling your eyes as you aggravatedly run your fingers through your hair. "He's onto us, Kihoon. Wake the fuck up."

You watch Jimin sit up slowly as he rolled off the bed. His eyes fixed on you as he fixed his blazer. "Just give us the money Jimin."

"Or?" He challenges.

"He'll shoot you in the neck."

Kihoon falters, eyes shifting to you. "I can't shoot a guy with cancer. My grandma had cancer.."

"He does not have cancer, you idiot!" You groaned. "Get out man."

Your perked up when you hear Jimin laughing as watches the situation unfold. "You guys suck."

He leans forward, sinful hands slipping into his pants pockets. "First of all, you gotta wait till she gets my pants off." He says as he walks to rest against the wall nearest to the door. "Then you gotta give me a chance to run, that's how you get the money and you should never drop the con. You never break. Die with the lie."

"How did you figure this out?" You asked.

"When you stole that creep's wallet before you came to me."

You heave in wrath and fury, you feel your ego breaking through your spirit. Frowning, you questioned. "Then why'd you come up here with me then if you're so smart?"

Jimin shrugs. "Professional curiousity." He walks towards the door before turning around. "Also, I love ass so I figured it's a win-win."

You groaned. "Fuck off Jimin."

"You suck baby."

The cold night was all around as you stepped out of the hotel. Tugging onto your sweater, you hugged your shivering frame as you made your way home. You feel the chill in your blood, coldness bringing the synapses of your brain to a stand still. However, you were still perplexed by the failed operation, and your thoughts kept replaying the scene in your brain. You groaned internally. All you wanted was to get home and sulk on your own.

Until -

"You really should be more aware." You ears perked up at the familiar melted honey voice. Rolling your eyes, you caught sight of Jimin walking up to you from behind, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets. "I've been behind you for two blocks."

You stayed silent, footsteps hurrying but he prods you. "You didn't see me?"

"I don't have eyes at the back of my head." You responded.

"Well, if you're gonna play this game you might wanna grow a pair."

You turn to face him. He was the kind of handsome that got into your bones. He was handsome from the depth of his eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. Nonetheless, you brushed the thoughts away as you rolled your eyes. "I can take care of myself Jimin."

Shaking his head, he stops you. "No, you're going to get hurt." and when you don't answer, he offers. "Let me buy you coffee."

"I don't drink coffee." Hoping that would make him piss off, you failed, yet again, as he stood across you - silently staring at you. Groaning, you walked away. "Fine.

As he grabbed for the glass door, the two of you strolled side by side, stumbling onto the nearest café. You looked up to see his eyes already locked on you as he reached out to guide you inside the café, and the warmth of it sent an electric chill down your spine. As you took your seat, you gazed out the window at the to watch the thick blanket of snow that had blanketed the grounds. An icy serenade, a coolness to bring out the warmth within. As promised, Jimin comes back to the table with coffee cups in his hands.

"Thank you." You muttered softly, hands reaching for the cup as you caught his staring eyes.

"So, what's your thing?" You began, curious eyes finding his intense ones. "Inside? Roper? You can tell me."

He smiles, taking a sip of his coffee. "Everything. Been in this game for so long."

"Your story. I wanna know all of it if that's okay with you."

He nods, placing the cup onto the wooden table before leaning against his seat. Your eyes lingered over the spread of his toned thighs but chastised yourself for getting distracted.

"My grandfather used to run a crooked game in Busan." Jimin began. "Eventually, my father started shilling for him. One day they get burned. Mobbed-guy catches them throwing signals. Everybody's guns come out. Standoff. No way out. Except one."

Your eyes glued to the man in front of you, completely focused. "The Toledo Panic Button."

Your frowned. "What the hell is that?"

Jimin's chuckles and you don't think you'd ever get used to the sound of that. "You shoot your partner. Proves you're not together."

Mouth agape, you internalize the way Jimin casually spills horrid, explicit details on the world he's associated with. "So your grandfather killed your father?"

"That's the world you're in. Dabblers get killed." He shrugs, raising an eyebrow as he sips on his coffee.

God, was he hot.

You sighed. "Look, I wasn't born into this like you. I was a dyslexic foster kid. No prospects, no future. I mean, it's a minor miracle I'm not a hooker right now."

Jimin smirks at that as he leans his elbow against the armrest. He can't deny that the picture of your delicate hands wrapped around a poll accompanied by the dimmed lighting indeed piqued his interest. Hands grazing his jaw gently as you catch the way his eyes scans your frame. Brushing that act off, you lean forward. "Tutor me, Jimin."

"No." He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"Why should I?" Jimin shoots back.

Groaning, you reach for your bag as you pulled out a leather Birkin. "Well, look, I could pay you, if that helps ."

Jimin crosses his arms, lips curling into a smile before eventually transcending into a contagious laugh. "Y/N, whose wallet is that?"

"Um," You flipped the wallet open, tugging onto an identity card. "Dr Kim Wooshik?"

He does not reply immediately but stares at your hopeful face.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Jimin says before you could register. Head whipping up to the man in front of you, you watch the way his tongue swipe between his lips, wetting his lower lip as he awaits your response.

"I- are you serious? How do I contact you then?" You stood up when he did.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he closes up on you. Handsome face leaning towards yours as his supple lips lands on your right ear to whisper, "I'll call you."

As he leans back, your eyes catches sight on his hand lifting to your face with your watch in his hands. Eyes widening, you lifted your wrist to find it empty.

"How-"

"I'll see you tomorrow. Stay safe." He walks away, turning around briefly to flash a smile as you stood alone, baffled.

[ambiguously-ambitious]

Chapter Three: (Overdue) Introductions PT. I

Author: ambiguoslyambitious (me!)

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3,839

Summary: Today's the day that Bela will finally make her debut in Pelican Town and meet some of the townspeople. Will she be able to salvage her reputation or has her fresh start already began to expire?

“Wait, so you’re telling me that the townspeople have been trying to welcome me all week?” Bela lowered her eyes in shame, her face reddening once again. Yoba, they must think I’m some stuck up city bitch.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Victor answered reassuringly. “However, none of us knew that you were...hearing impaired.” Victor rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish look sweeping across his face. Something Mayor Lewis failed to mention. Thanks a lot.

“Oh, Yoba,” Bela shook her head. “The whole town must think that I’m so rude.” So much for a fresh start. Maybe I should just become a hermit. No socialization. Just me and Mother Nature.

“Don’t worry! I’m sure we can clear this all up.” Suddenly, Victor’s dark eyes brightened. “Would you like to accompany me into town? I know that my mother wanted to invite you over to our residence for dinner. I-if you aren’t too busy, that is.” He quickly looked away, cheeks flooded with pink.

“Oh, uh,” Bela also averted her gaze briefly. “T-that would be lovely.” Shit, meeting the mom already.

Victor shot her a sheepish grin. “Splendid! Hopefully, we’ll be able to run into a few of the townspeople and try to salvage your reputation.”

The pair proceeded to exit the farmhouse.

“I must say, Bela,” Victor said, sweeping his gaze across the farm. “You’ve done a magnificent job so far.”

“Thank you,” Bela responded shyly. "I admit, I hadn't realized how much this old farm had gone into ruin." She stared out sadly out towards the other islands she hadn't reached yet, remembering when the farm was bustling with activity. And I still have so much work left to do.

Sensing her sadness, Victor tried to lighten the mood. "You used to visit this farm, right?"

"Yeah," Bela gave a sad smile. "When I was a kid, I used to spend the entire summer here, helping Grandfather tend to the chickens and cows, and watering the crops each morning."

"Sounds like you two were close."

"Not really," Bela admitted. "Summertime was the only time I got to see Grandfather. He and my father weren't very close. The last summer I spent here was ten years ago. Before he got sick and..." Her eyes welled up with tears.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Victor apologized, looking over at her worried. "I don't mean to remind you of such sorrowful things."

"It's fine," Bela offered a half-smile. She brought her gaze up to the bright afternoon sky, taking in the sweet scent of grass and the warm spring breeze. "Not all of my memories of him are sad. I know that there were really great times that are just easy to forget now that he's gone."

This time, Victor was the one to offer a half-smile. "I suppose it is easier to remember the bad times. Remembering the good times forces you to remember how much you miss the ones you've lost."

“HELLO, VICTOR!” called out a frantic, yet cheerful voice. “OH MY YOBA, IS THAT THE NEW FARMER? HI!” A bubbly young woman, adorn in bubblegum pink rushed over to meet them on the dirt path across from the defunct bus stop heading towards town.

“Tabitha, this is Bela.” Victor smiled, knowing that Tabitha was one of the friendliest people in town to meet. She had a habit of making even the grumpiest people smile. Thank Yoba, we've run into Tabitha. She can quickly turn around this somber conversation.

“Hi, Bela! It’s so nice to meet you!” Tabitha giggled, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “My twin brother Theo and I moved here a year ago and run The Stray Café across from the bus stop. Hopefully, you’ll be able to meet him soon, though he isn’t much of a socializer.”

“Hi, Tabitha.” Bela smiled unconsciously, the young woman’s happy energy was infectious.

“Those are cool headphones!” Tabitha said, taking notice of the devices in Bela’s ears. “Listening to any good music?”

Victor quickly glanced over at Bela before responding. “Um, Tabitha. Those aren’t headph-”

“These are actually hearing aids.” Bela interrupted.

Suddenly, Tabitha’s face fell. “I’m so sorry! I hope that I didn’t offend you!” The poor woman looked close to tears. Yoba, how can I be so stupid and insensitive?! Theo always tells me to never assume. I'm sure she hates me now.

“It’s ok!” Bela quickly reassured the young lady. “It’s an honest mistake.”

Tabitha visibly relaxed at Bela's words, letting out a sigh of relief. "Good, I'm glad that I didn't ruin our chances of becoming best friends."

"Hold on," Victor laughed. "Who says that I'm not already Bela's best friend?"

Tabitha rolled her eyes playfully. "I guess then we will all just have to be besties."

Bela let out a laugh, with the pair soon joining in. Maybe meeting the townspeople will go more smoothly than I thought. At least I 've managed to make friends with these two.

"So, besties," Tabitha glanced between Victor and Bela. "Where are you guys headed?"

"I was just bringing Bela into town to meet everyone." Victor responded. "My mother invited her over for dinner and I figured that I would take her to the saloon afterwards."

"That's a good idea. Why don't you guys come with me to Pierre's first?"

"Sure," Victor nodded. Then he looked over at Bela sheepishly. "That is, if it's ok with you."

Bela smiled at them. "Yeah, that's fine. You guys know the town better than me."

_____________________________________________________________

The trio continued their way into town, heading east towards Pierre’s General Store. As they entered the store, Pierre looked up from the catalogue he was reading at the register.

“It’s farmer Bela!” Pierre greets excitedly. “Welcome to Pierre’s! If you’re looking to buy seeds, my shop is the place to go.” Finally, a new customer.

Bela offered a small smile. “Thank you, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Bela’s eyes swung around the small shop, taking note of the tall shelves filled with different kinds of seeds. Small containers held fresh produce with labels containing the names of all the local farms.

“I’ll also purchase whatever produce you make on your farm for a good price.” Pierre’s grin became slightly more forced as he continued making his sales pitch. Hopefully, this city kid will be able to produce crops worth selling. Can't be any worse than anything Andy brings.

“Hopefully, I’ll have something worthy to sell soon.” Bela awkwardly joked. “ Yoba, this guy is intense.

To the right of the counter, a door suddenly slammed open. Pierre rolled his eyes as a purple-headed figure stepped out looking annoyed.

“Really, Abigail?” Pierre glared at her.

Abigail shot back a similarly annoyed look. “What? You know the door gets stuck. It’s not a big deal.”

She dramatically rolled her eyes, walking towards the exit. She shot a quick glance at Victor and nodded, coming to a stop once she laid eyes on the new farmer, eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Who are you?”

Victor smiled, seemingly unperturbed by the young woman’s rudeness. “Abigail, this is Bela, the new farmer.”

“Hi,” Bela waved awkwardly. Well, she definitely doesn’t like me.

“Oh, I heard someone was moving into that old farm,” Abigail said, looking Bela up and down without meeting her eyes. “A shame, I liked exploring around there.” Without another word, Abigail walked out of the store.

“Ms. Rivers?” called out a small, quiet voice from the right. Bela could barely hear the man even with her hearing aids turned on. She turned to look over and was surprised to see a tall man, with thick glasses and an even thicker moustache. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Harvey Hickey, the local doctor.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Hickey.”

“Please, call me Dr. Harvey.” He offered an awkward smile. “I work, well and live, in the clinic next door with Paul, the town’s optometrist.” Suddenly his ears burned red. “A-as roommates of course!”

Bela just smiled politely. And they were roommates.

“Uh,” Harvey rubbed the back of his head nervously. “Well, um, please, uh, make sure to, uh, schedule your annual check up at, uh, some point. It was, uh, nice to meet you.” He awkwardly made his way up the register, a simple protein bar in hand.

"Well, I've got to pick up some things for the café," Tabitha said with a smile. "I'll see you guys around!"

"You're not coming to the saloon?" Bela furrowed her eyebrows.

"Oh, uh," Tabitha started stammering nervously. "T-that's not, uh, really my scene." I hope Bela doesn't think I'm lame.

"That's fine," Bela replied reassuringly. "Since we're neighbors, I'm sure we'll be seeing each other often. I'll try and visit the café soon."

"Oh, you should! I can't wait to introduce you to my brother!" Tabitha's eyes lit up once again. “Bye. Bela! Bye, Victor!” Tabitha waved goodbye, as she proceeded to gather supplies for the café.

"Well," Victor said, a hint of nervousness creeping into his usually calm voice. "Now it's time to meet my mother."

_____________________________________________________________

Bela and Victor exited the store, making their way east to the Jenkins’ Residence, which happened to be located directly next to Pierre's General Store.

“I told you this would be a short walk.” Victor smiled as they approached the giant, two-story manor which was painted a beautiful shade of robin’s egg blue. Bela’s eyes widened at the vastness of the manor, whose front entrance was guarded by a set of beautiful bronze gates.

Victor pushed the gate open and gestured for Bela to head inside. She followed the ornate crystal path until she reached a set of giant oak doors.

“Allow me.” Victor again held open the door for Bela, who stood in the entryway desperately trying to take in all the grandeur. Directly across from her was a beautiful wooden staircase, hinting that more beauty was yet to be seen. To her left was the living room, adorned in rich red and gold curtains and rugs. To her right, a kitchen with a large mahogany table sat with matching chairs.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful in here.” Bela’s eyes glowed with wonder.

“Why, thank you.” called out a sultry, yet sophisticated voice. An elegantly dressed woman appeared to cascade down the stairs effortlessly. “You must be Ms. Bela Rivers.” The woman extended a hand in greeting, which Bela immediately took.

“Yes, it is nice to meet you, Mrs. Jenkins.” Bela smiled nervously. I can’t believe this is Victor’s mother.

“Please, call me Olivia.” She gave a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Is this really the same girl who ignored Caroline and Jodi? She seems polite enough.

“Well, Olivia,” Bela said awkwardly. “Thank you for inviting me over. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“Don’t worry, Bela.” Victor chimed in. “My mother loves any opportunity to entertain guests.”

”Well, I wouldn’t want this manor to go to waste!” Olivia gives a dry laugh. “Let’s head over to the kitchen.” She quickly turned on her heels and elegantly strutted away. Victor offered a small smile to Bela before following his mother.

As the pair took their seats, Olivia brought a large platter with a covering on top of it.

“What fine dish have you prepared this time, Mother?”

“Well, since, I heard that our guest used to live in Zuzu City,” Olivia smiled coyly as she lifted the top. “ I decided to prepare pan-seared butterfish over a plate of assorted vegetables from the garden.”

Both Bela and Victor stared at the platter in absolute wonder. The butterfish was a brilliant shade of gold, contrasting the rich greens of the cabbage and lettuce underneath.

“This looks amazing!” Bela exclaimed, remembering the holidays when her mother would prepare this. Her heart tinged with sadness, as her eyes began burning with unshed tears. I need to think about something else.

“Is something troubling you dear?” Olivia asked inquisitively, eyes narrowing as she glanced over the newcomer. She noticed a faint glint emitting from Bela’s ear, eyes widening in realization. She's deaf! That's why no one's been able to get in contact with her. Can't wait to clear that up with the ladies.

“Oh, i-it’s nothing.” Bela offered a flicker of a smile before lowering her gaze.

Olivia shot her son a look, to which Victor responded by shrugging.

“Perhaps,” Victor looked between his mother and Bela. “I should pour us each a glass of wine.”

Olivia nodded, stealing another glance at Bela. “Why don’t you grab some pomegranate wine from the cellar? I’m sure the tartness will compliment the sweetness of the butterfish wonderfully.” The young woman also nodded in agreement. Oh, Victor, please don't leave me alone with your mom. There's just something scary about her.

Victor glanced over at Bela once more. “Of course. I’ll be just a moment.” He gracefully walked away from the table, disappearing down the stairs of the cellar.

“So, Bela,” Olivia clasped her hands together. “What brings you to Pelican Town?”

“Well,” Bela nervously met the older woman’s gaze. “I decided that I wanted a fresh start.” Bela purposely kept her answer vague. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to talk about her parents just yet.

“A fresh start?” Olivia’s gaze hardened. There must be something this girl is running from. Why else would she need a fresh start so young?

“Yes,” Bela responded, meeting her gaze. “I found that life in Zuzu City just wasn’t for me anymore.”

Olivia’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “But, what about your career? If I’m not mistaken, I heard that you had a very promising job at Joja in their corporate office.”

“I did.” Bela responded. “However, I’ve found the work to be...unfulfilling.”

Olivia’s eyes widened and she leaned back in surprise, a hand raised up against her chest. “Unfulfilling? By Yoba, I spent thirty years working my way to become an accounting manager and accumulating all of this.” She gestured with her hand carelessly.

“Mother,” Victor chided, walking up the stairs from the cellar with a dark red bottle. “Not everyone wants to be a corporate monkey.”

“Didn’t this corporate monkey earn enough to give you a full-ride to one of the finest universities in the entirety of the Ferngill Republic?” Olivia shot back, her tone icy.

“Yes, Mother,” Victor’s tone softened considerably, as he began pouring the wine, “But, money shouldn’t be the only thing you work for.” Why can't she understand that money isn't everything?

“Oh, really?” Olivia retorted, condescendingly taking a sip. “But was it not money that afforded you this life of privilege?”

The room suddenly went silent. Well, this has gotten awkward, Bela thought to herself, her fork lazily moving some of the greens in front of her.

Victor's jaw clenched, struggling to maintain his composure. Why can't my mother just realize that I'm not trying to be ungrateful. I just want to be happy.

"I recently lost my parents," Bela said quietly, interrupting the momentary silence. "A-and I didn't know what to do with myself. One day, I just found this envelope from my grandfather that said that one day I'd be in need of change and that I had this farm for when I needed it."

Victor gently placed a hand on her shoulder, as she fought to keep tears from streaming down her face. "I'm sorry for your loss, Bela."

"I'm sorry." Olivia said, glassy-eyed as well. She quickly grabbed a napkin, dabbing her eyes delicately. "Part of the reason why Victor and I moved to Pelican Town was due to my husband's...passing." Yoba, I should've been more sympathetic instead of interrogating this poor girl. I should've recognized that she was also going through loss.

Victor exchanged a somber look with his mother before looking back over at Bela. He reached over and grabbed his glass, raising it up in a toast. "To new beginnings."

Bela and Olivia followed in suit, each taking a long gulp of wine to help assuage some of the emotional pain caused by their respective grief.

_____________________________________________________________

"Well, that could have gone more smoothly," Victor shook his head as he and Bela left the manor for the saloon.

"It certainly was an interesting dinner," Bela responded gently. The rest of the dinner had been eaten in an awkward silence. "Your mom is a really good cook." And an even better interrogator. Maybe she volunteered part-time at the Zuzu City PD?

"Yeah, well she's usually an even better host." His eyes looked apologetic as they met Bela's. "I'm really sorry for the way dinner turned out. My mother can be...a lot."

Bela gave him a smile, playfully pushing his arm, "Don't even worry about it. I'm already making memories in this town."

Victor pushed open the thick oak door of The Stardrop Saloon, a barrage of sounds and smells overwhelming the new farmer. Bela was hit with the warm, bitter scent of beer as a jaunty folk tune played in the background, accompanied by the sounds of glasses clinking and laughter.

“Why if it isn’t the new farmer, Ms. Bela Rivers,” a kind voice greeted. “Welcome to The Stardrop Saloon! What can I get for ya?”

“Hello, Gus,” Victor smiled, taking a seat at the bar and gesturing for Bela to join him. “Why don’t we just take two glasses of wine to start?” The mustached man glanced over at Bela.

“Uh, yes,” Bela smiled. “Thank you.”

Victor leaned closer and whispered in her ear, his breath warm and gentle, “I hope you don’t mind me ordering for you. I figured you’d want to still be coherent while meeting some more of the townspeople.” He let out a small chuckle as he pulled away.

“What,” Bela teased, as her cheeks turned pink. “You think I can’t handle more than a couple glasses of wine?”

Before he could respond, a perky blue-haired woman arrived back with the two glasses of wine in hand. “Here you go!” She gently placed them before the pair. As Victor reached for his wallet, Emily gently shook her head, “This one’s on the house.”

She turned to face Bela, her blue eyes glowing with kindness. “Hello, Bela, I’m Emily!” Ooh, she has a nice aura. I'm sure we'll be good friends.

Bela smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

“Well, if it isn’t the new farmer,” came a sultry voice from the right of the bar. A beautiful woman slid onto the barstool next to Bela, while Emily placed a glass of wine in front of her.

“Yeah, I’m Bela,” Bela responded, still taking in the woman’s striking appearance. Her face was like a porcelain doll’s, smooth and pale with only a single mole marking her otherwise unblemished skin. Something about her seems familiar, but I can’t put my finger on it.

The woman extended her hand, a mischievous glint in her dark eyes. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Shiko.”

Bela’s eyes widened in partial recognition. “Shiko? Shiko Takahashi?”

Shiko smiled back dryly. “Ah, so you have heard of me. Makes sense since I heard you’re from the city.”

“What's a model doing here?” Bela’s jaw dropped.

“ Former model,” Shiko flipped her dark locks over her shoulder carelessly. “I decided to retire and live the simple life.” She smiled at Bela, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Kind of like you, huh?”

Bela returned the smile. “Something like that.”

Victor raised his glass, taking a careful sip before looking over at Bela. “Well, it’s always a pleasure seeing you, Shiko. If you don’t mind, I’d like to introduce Bela to some of my friends.”

The pair got up from their stools, heading over to what appeared to be a game room. Two old school arcade games greeted them at the entrance, where the angsty, purple haired teen was violently shaking the joysticks and shooting out creative combos of curse words.

“Obviously, you’ve already met Abigail.”

The girl shot a dirty look at Bela. “Victor, you done showing the new girl around? I need your help. I can’t get past this damn level.”

Victor rolled his eyes. “I was just bringing BELA over to meet everyone.” Why does Abigail ALWAYS have to be so fucking rude?

Bela gave an awkward smile as Abigail turned her attention back to the game in front of her. What is this girl’s problem with me?

“Bela?” Suddenly, a messy-haired blonde was standing right in front of her, his eyes gleaming with recognition. “Yo, Sebby, it's really her!” His arms quickly enveloped Bela into a tight hug, lifting her off the ground. It took everything in her to not spill any wine as the young man gently rocked her.

When he finally put her down, Bela was overcome with memories of her young self playing at the beach with a pair of blonde and black-haired boys. “Sam?”

His green eyes glowed with happiness. “Wow, I can’t believe it’s been, what, like ten years?” He looked over to the pool table where the raven-haired fellow was still poised with a billiards stick. “Fuck the game, Seb, come over here, it’s our Bela!”

Sebastian flinched when Sam said “our Bela”. Abigail’s head whipped over, shooting a venomous glare at Bela. “What do you mean, ‘our Bela’? I thought she just got here.”

Sam shook his head. “Don’t you remember? Bela used to visit every summer when we were kids.” Suddenly, Sam burst out into laughter.

Abigail’s eyes narrowed defensively, “What’s so funny?”

“Of course you don’t remember,” Sam managed to choke out. “You were too busy being besties with Haley.”

Even Sebastian let out a small laugh as Abigail’s pale face turned beet red. “Whatever, that was a long time ago.”

“Well,” Victor smiled, breaking the awkward tension that was beginning to form. “I hadn’t realized that you already knew each other.”

“Oh, yeah,” Sam smirked mischievously. “Bela and Seb knew each other REALLY well.”

Both Bela and Sebastian flushed red, ears burning hot. Abigail looked over in curiosity, annoyance written all over her face. What the fuck does that mean?

Victor raised an eyebrow quizzically, glancing between the two. “Really?”

“Sam,” Sebastian rolled his eyes, the red refusing to leave his face. “Why do you have to be such an ass?” I bet she doesn't even remember.

Bela looked over at Victor sheepishly. “It was just a middle school fling. We were kids.” I doubt Seb even remembers.

Victor burst out into laughter, while Bela and Sebastian bore similar mortified expressions. Sam joined Victor in laughter, with Abigail continuing to shoot death glares at Bela.

"So," Bela said in an attempt to break the awkwardness. "How've you been, Seb?" Yoba, I don't know what to say to him.

Sebastian avoided Bela's gaze, preferring to maintain eye contact with the wooden floors. "Oh, you know, nothing's new." Dammit Sam! Why'd you have to bring THAT up?

"Seems like there's been quite a few changes since I've been here."

"Yeah," Sebastian nodded, stealing a glance at her. "But, most things are still the same." Like how much I've missed you.

[askbarnum]

Have you ever tried performance enhancers to help with those times when you're feeling a little beleaguered in the bedroom?

I don’t like the tone of your question and I’ll have you know I perform perfectly fine in the bedroom. I’m hardly an aged old man yet. Granted with over a decade of age difference I may be a little behind in stamina but this particular activity favors quality over quantity any day and quality is my specialty.

…If I have to be entirely honest, there was one time. It was the first and last time though.

I’m gentleman enough that I’d never discus these sorts of matters usually, but upon our return from our travels after a night of drinks with the troupe, I found that forced sobriety for so many months had severely lowered my tolerance. Alcohol loosens the tongue and in what I thought was a private conversation with Lettie I possibly let slip of a very slight insecurity that perhaps Phillip was demanding more rounds than I could offer, so to speak. I like to think I am a rather active man, not to be crude. Phillip however, is just…something else.

Unfortunately, this had been overheard by the prying ears of miss Yan, who weaved in to talk to me shortly afterwards and presented me with a box of suspicious powder. A sort of “natural aphrodisiac” she described it as. Refusing to tell me where she acquired such a substance, she informed me to put a single teaspoon into my coffee in the evening.

As you can imagine, I was rather mortified with the sentiment and put it in a drawer, only to forget about it for over a week.

It was only one morning after a sort of argument had broken out the night before that I located the box once again in my desk. We hadn’t argued about anything related to the bedroom, mind you. Phillip had just been in a foul mood after the activities and we had ended up exchanging words and sleeping in separate beds. I discovered later on that his temper had actually been a result of an unpleasant meeting with a protester earlier that day and a lingering sense of unrest and insecurity. At the time though I had fallen into a slightly unsettled state in the concern that perhaps his temper had been because of…disappointment. Maybe it had just built itself up in my mind for too long that sleepless night.

A little skeptical of any affects this quack medicine could have, and being the kind of man I am, of course I put four spoonfuls of this stuff into my coffee instead of one. Curious to see if it would cause any change whatsoever.

You learn when you live a life of spontaneity that while many risks bring change and excitement, some bring regret.  Turns out it was rather potent stuff.

I attempted to remain in the confines of my office and to take my mind off of the situation, but after an hour or so even the couch cushions were beginning to look quite attractive. In a moment of desperation I decided to abandon any sense of shame went off to locate Phillip and I swear when under the influence of whatever was in that powdered substance I could practically smell him out through the Circus.

Unluckily for me, Phillip seemed to have other ideas about how he wanted to spend his day, and still hadn’t seemed to cool off from the argument the night before. No amount of sweet talking and trying to lure him away from the crowds to somewhere more private was working. I was sure that for a while I was being driven to the brink of madness and my mind only had one thing on it. It very much did not help that Phillip seems annoyingly oblivious to how incredible he looks in tight trousers while he dances.

With all sense lost, embarrassing as it is to admit, I was left following him around for most of the day probably looking sickeningly like a needy lovesick puppy. Desperate to salvage any touch I could get even if it was merely a chaste bump of the shoulder.

It was just about the longest day of my life I think, and Phillip won’t be letting me live it down any time soon. That box is now safely in the bottom of a dumpster where it belongs.