#look I haven't used my writing tag in forever

[hypodermicfroggy]

Light Pollution

I don't recognize the stars anymore.

Terrestrial life is one of changes It rises, it falls, it expands, it shrinks And while the stars are not immutable Their span is on a much longer scale

These lights above me are not the ones So constant and familiar That my two and four-legged ancestors both Could navigate their way back home by them

These lights are not the twinkling diamonds Born from the exhale of a warm sigh That captured the minds and hearts Of scientists and artisans for centuries

Their sparkle is cold, lifeless metal And impersonal binary. Yet these are not the capsules of my grandparents Crafted with hope and fear and passion

In a time when that vast black above Was not prime real estate to be simply colonized But a terrifying unknown to be respected As well as a new frontier to explore

These are cheap trinkets, baubles Manufactured en masse then left to rot A passing whim of a creator Who thinks himself a god of men But who has already grown bored Of his own toys like a child

They form a dirty choker around a blue wife's neck She has always been faithful to him Even while their heirs slowly poison her While he looks longingly at the mistress Dressed in her tempting shade of blood Waiting down a long and dangerous cosmic hallway

A new star attempts to rise and join its siblings Forced upwards by man's sheer will It rumbles, it roars, it streaks across the sky Searing red as something goes wrong

The chemical smell of fuel instead of wormwood.

Two hundred, five hundred A thousand years ago This would have been regarded as an omen A sign of the coming end of days.

But the true prophets have been blinded Their clear skies clouded by these false stars Placed by a false prophet, a man playing god A father of lies and broken promises of innovation

And so no one listens and heeds the warnings Until his stars come falling down A hundred thousand heralds burning bright Like the stars they pretended to be Revelations that are realized One minute too late

…I don't recognize the stars anymore.

[marshmellowtea]

i accidentally let what was supposed to be a small ramble devolve into a full on ficlet lmao so enjoy chrissandra angst centered around chris's mommy issues :')) light age regression and mentions of abuse ahead

sandra meets celia once in university, just by happenstance when she stops by chris's room to say hello and maybe take him out with her (because drinking alone is no fun, and frankly, a bit dangerous as a young woman on her own). she doesn't get to say much to her, but sandra immediately recognizes the weird, passive aggressive way she speaks, the judgement radiating off of her as she looks her up and down, the way chris looks near tears for reasons he never fully explains to her.

right out the gate, sandra knows she doesn't like celia. she doesn't get much of a chance to think much of it, though, before celia's gone again, fucking off to wherever hellish plane of existence she came from. sandra puts it in the back of her mind, takes chris's arm and leads him out the door with her—there's drinks and good times to be had, recently formed traumatic memories to forget about. if chris clings to her a little tighter than normal when she leads him away from his dorm, well, that can stay between the two of them.

it's not until a month later when sandra has the misfortune of thinking about celia again, the looming presence of that woman rearing its ugly head. chris is injured, strung up in the hospital for a minor injury, and her and robert are the only ones in the room with him, something she doesn't think much about until chris quietly asks to call his mum.

"i don't know why you're asking," robert says, so matter of fact it almost doesn't register for sandra the severity of what he's saying, "you know she's not going to come."

the comment puts a bad taste in sandra's mouth, though she does her best to write it off—it's just a minor injury, and chris is an adult. of course his mother wouldn't drop everything and make the long drive over to them just to check on his sprained ankle, why would she? sandra knows her mother wouldn't either.

but then again, her mother isn't exactly the best mum either, is she? her father would probably drop everything for her, has dropped everything for her for much less than this, that's what parents are supposed to do, aren't they?

she pushes the thought down. it's not her problem if chris's parents won't show up for him, even if the thought does make her chest ache a bit. she swallows back her concern and leans in, distracting him with talk of the current play they're going to put on with the cornley polytechnic drama society. they're the group's newest members, the three of them, and chris has already made his plans to eventually become director known to them, his eyes alight with excitement as he'd rambled drunkenly about his aspirations. sandra thinks he could do it—he's passionate, and fairly talented, if a bit clumsy onstage, and maybe a bit too much of a perfectionist (though she can't fault him for that, because she and robert have the same problem, don't they?). she sees that same light in her eyes when she brings up their current production, and for a moment, her chest warms, a weird rush of adoration for him swelling up in her.

she pushes that down too, for now. she's not here to make friends, even if she does quite like chris. she has her eyes on hollywood, and she's not letting anything slow her down.

....she's no where close to hollywood when another major celia incident occurs, the one that changes things. between then and the last time chris was in the hospital, she's only gotten brief mentions of the woman, little drops of information chris shares when he's a little too drunk and a little too open, moments a part of her relishes if only for the fact that chris closes himself back up afterwards. she's really starting to like him, and she knows he's really starting to like her too—not in the way she's used to men growing to like her, no, there's no thrum of sexual tension between them or longing romantic glances, but whatever it is is just as intimate, a scary and exciting and confusing tangle of affection between them.

maybe that's why she's there the minute she gets the call that he's in the hospital again—appendicitis this time, thankfully another routine procedure, low risk. it's no less terrifying, though, not for her, and certainly not for chris, who's wide eyed and whimpering even through the haze of the painkillers they have him on.

"mum," he half-sobs when he sees her and robert, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "i wan' mum."

"chris, we've talked about this," robert says, softer than usual—even he's able to dial it back sometimes, when the situation calls for it. "i've already called her. she's not coming."

chris sobs openly at the news, and sandra feels her mouth go dry, a surge of hatred swelling in her. she's not convinced that celia being here would be any better for him—she thinks back to the only time she met celia, the way chris looked like he was going to burst into tears from whatever their conversation had been before she walked in—but the fact she won't even make an effort to be here still makes her so angry on chris's behalf.

i don't think—i don't think she likes me, sometimes, he'd murmured to her last time they'd drank together, a fragile look on his face and a tremor in his hand. i want her to like me but i don't think she does. i—i dunno what i'm doing wrong...

"mama," chris whispers now, almost inaudible, sounding painfully small and young. "i just wan' my mama..."

a surge of—well, sandra can't quite place the emotional cocktail that suddenly hits her at the sound of him, the aching, protective rage that runs through her when it hits her that celia's reduced him to this, a scared kid forever crying for his mother. whatever it is, though, it spurs her into action, and she gets out of the hospital chair and hastens to the side of his bed, grabbing his hand and cradling it gently in both of hers.

"i'm here," she says, and she only thinks better of it before half a second before committing to her next choice of words: "mama's here. it's gonna be alright."

chris looks up at her, his eyes hazy and terrified. sandra musters up her best comforting look, giving his hand a gentle squeeze and rubbing at the back of it soothingly.

"sandra," robert says, bewilderment in his voice. "what the hell are you doing?"

"helping," sandra says, not even sparing robert a glance, keeping her gaze on chris's uncertain eyes. "i'll be your mum for a bit, if—if she's not going to show up. does that sound alright, chris?"

chris just stares at her for another long moment, the shock freezing him in place. eventually, though, he melts again, shoulders visibly slumping. tears spill over his cheeks, and his chest convulses, his free hand coming up to reach for her.

"sandra," he mumbles, and then his eyes go a different kind of hazy from the drug haze, something visibly shifting in him. "mama..."

sandra drops his hand and immediately pulls him into a hug instead, putting her arms around him carefully as to not disturb his stitches. he drops his head on her shoulder immediately, and she rubs his back, grimacing slightly at the wetness that hits her shoulder. she almost regrets this for a moment, then—but then chris squeezes back, a soft sob escaping him as he slumps into her embrace.

"mama..." he mumbles again, just loud enough for her to hear. there's still a tremor of uncertainty in his voice, the sound of it enough to choke her up.

"yeah. mama's here," she murmurs, any regrets and doubts washing away from her. it feels right, in a way she can't describe. "it's alright. you're going to be alright. i'm here."

the rest of the world melts away then, even robert's confused presence barely registers for her. it's just her, and chris, and this weird dynamic she's found herself committed to—she won't let herself think too hard about it yet, instead soaking up the oddly comforting warmth of chris in her arms, indulging a little in the odd protectiveness she feels over him.

[kaysungshine]

Redamancy: Part II ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

(If you haven't read part one, you definitely should!)

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (bestie!jisung)

{ Genre } - NSFW; s/a/f trifecta, now friends to enemies to lovers, pining

{ Synopsis } - Things are awkward now, you're avoiding each other. In fact you distanced yourself from the entire group. What happens when Ji confronts you? What happens when Chan does a 180 and tries to befriend you? And what happens when Chan finally has you alone in his room?

{ WC } - 14.3k (I am so sorry 🥺) + 2 screenshots

{ Warnings & Tags } - 18+ MDNI, lowkey POV switch , lots and lots of angst, eventual smut & fluff, swearing, use of babygirl, multiple nicknames for members, choking, drinking, bestie jisung crying, hyunjin being a logical romantic, y/n being a little toxic but learning from it, they're honestly both a lotta stupid, oral(f. receiving), dry humping, hickeys and bruising, questionable breath play (please research if you plan on doing this, do it safely), chans nipples are sensitive, he's just sensitive in general with y/n, fingering, needy chan, members teasing, talk of edging, talk of bdsm, these two are VOCAL as hell, so lots of moaning, groaning, whining, whimpering, mewling, and dirty talk during sex, unprotected sex (piv), pull out method (again don't do this, practise safe sex), much cringe, much awkward, but they overcome it (LMK if I forgot any, I'm sorry)

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated or depicting the actual life of the members of SKZ. It is a fictional piece of work, and I do not own Stray Kids. All works of fiction are loosely inspired by SKZ, and in no way am I saying it is true to their character.

{ A/N } - Alright almost a month later, and I finally finished part two!! Please don't hate meeee, I beg your forgiveness, please. It took me a while because I just couldn't stop writing and adding things. Editing also took FOREVER, because I wasn't confident that it would satisfy you guys. I'm still not sure. So I apologize if this didn't live up to your expectations, again, please be gentle with me ♡. Understand that this is only my 2nd SKZ fic, so I'm still learning about how to portray each character, and how to piece things together seamlessly!

Chan was starting to worry. It had been almost two weeks and he still hadn't seen you, nor heard from you. It wasn't like you two really spoke outside of questioning the other about Jisungs' whereabouts. There were the occasional texts, again about Jisung. He didn't know what to say to you to begin with. Apologize? He already did that, and it only seemed to make you more upset. But that was in the moment, and both your emotions were on overdrive. 

The other members were starting to notice your absence, questioning Han about it. Asking if you were okay. You'd even started avoiding all the public areas at the building. No one was even sure if you were eating during the day, or there at all. You didn't go to the cafeteria, break rooms, or practise rooms. No one caught you in the lounge areas, elevator, or the stairwell. No one even saw you coming into or leaving the building. It was to the point where Hyunjin was nearly planning steakout missions with Jisung. And poor Ji. He only got to see you twice since that night. A drastic decrease in comparison to how often he usually spends time with you. Chan only knew that because he overheard him talking to Minho about it. That was all he heard before Han noticed him standing there, and left for his room, sending him a spine chilling glare along the way. 

And Chan knew it really was all his fault when Minho just gave him a curiously sad look, and patted him on the shoulder. You obviously said something to Han, who said something to Minho. He wonders who else knows how bad he messed up. 

He was racking his brain trying to figure out how to fix this. Never in a million years had he thought he'd actually get a chance to experience such a quintessential moment with you. He'd liked you for so long, it was starting to turn into more than that. Ever since he'd seen you helping a new trainee navigate the building, he grew interested in your kind heart first and foremost. He's sure he's been through all the emotions. Excitement, because you started hanging around with them and you fell right into the dynamic so easily. Anxiety, because he didn't know how to approach you at first. Jealousy, when Han got all of the attention from you. Anger, when he thought you and Han started dating secretly. Embarrassment, when he realized how wrong he was. Hope, when you two shared a hug, even though it was a very awkward hug. Despondent, when he still couldn't figure out how to act around you, letting whatever growing friendship you two had begun, stall. And now regretful. But not regret for kissing you, touching you, or nearly fucking you. No, regret that he had stopped. 

Such a beautiful moment, where he was truly lost in bliss. And he halted it. He let his anxiety get to him, his internal conflict wouldn't shut up.

He truly was worried about the technicality of it all. The rules, the company, the media, the fans. Worst of all, you would receive the brunt of it. He didn't know how to protect you from it all. He was constantly going back and forth in his head. How could he make it work? Would you even want to make it work? Did you even like him? What did you think about him exactly? 

He wasn't blind. Every once in a while he'd catch your eyes on him for a little too long. Any 'accidental' physical contact you had with him would linger. And he knew there was a certain smile you'd reserved just for him. Not to mention, you were always the first to reach out directly, and make conversation with him. He was always too afraid to. He felt like a coward. And when he finally had the courage to make a move, a bold move, a ravenous move... His ego suddenly deflated when he realized his actions could be taken the wrong way.

He panicked.

He doesn't want you to think that he just wants sex from you. That you're just a fling. A one night stand. A hookup. No he wanted to do it the right way. He wanted to take you on a date, he wanted to learn more about you, to meet your friends. He wanted you to meet his family, to meet Berry. He even fantasized about planning a special date to ask you to be his girlfriend. He fantasized about anniversaries, about holidays spent together, a life spent together. He wanted to give you the world. He fell for you hard. And in that moment, he felt like he was doing it all backwards. So he stopped. It nearly killed him, but he stopped. And he should've done anything, quite literally anything else but stop.

When he saw the spark in your eyes dimming, only to be replaced with apprehension. He immediately apologized, and spat out a quick blurb about being inappropriate. 

Your entire face just sunk, and he shut down. There was nothing more he could say about it, not in that moment. And he felt even worse when you said you understood, but he didn't let it show. You didn't understand, not really. There was no way in hell you could, and he desperately wanted to just spill everything that second. But he wanted to be sober, wanted you to be sober, so instead he told you to drink water. And go to bed. 

What the hell was wrong with him. 

He even made sure to wake up early the next morning, anticipating to somehow get the chance to talk to you. When you came running down the hall, he was sure that it was fate. The chance that you two had alone time this early was perfect. He had hoped that this would all be sorted out. If he confessed, maybe you would too. Then he could explain last night, and you two could talk about it. And if it didn't work out like that, at the very least he could try to preserve your friendship. It would be painful to remain just friends, but he didn't want you out of his life. He couldn't imagine that. He doesn’t think he could handle that. After he greeted you, he noticed your eyes had tears in them. You were starting to hyperventilate, and tremble. 

Then you were leaving. 

Even though he's come up with world class lyrics, he seemed to be failing with his words lately. He didn't ask if you were okay, or what was wrong, or breach the topic that was clearly needing clarification. No, instead, he followed up with asking if you wanted breakfast. 

You didn't even look at him. The tone of your voice was glacial, freezing him right to the spot. He'd never heard you sound like that. He just stood there, watching the door close. Listening to your car start, listening to you drive off. And then he stood there more, afraid to move. 

When Jisung came running out 15 minutes later, he was still standing there. Han saw your things were gone, and knew that you left. Chan only decided to move when Han uttered five angry words to him. 

'You really fucked up, Chan.'

He knew he did. And he didn't know where to begin to fix it...

"--Channie-hyung!" 

He whipped his head up, and found Jeongin snapping his fingers in front of face, trying to get his attention. 

They'd been at dance practice, taking a break. He only then realized that he'd zoned out the entire time, not eating, not grabbing water, not even sitting down. Just recounting his mistakes, and dwelling on them. Now it was time to get back to work. 

Jeongin was giving him a strange look, but he didn't dare question him. In addition to messing things up with you, he'd been too on edge. Snapping at one too many people. He didn't want to risk Chan blowing up on him next.

"Where's Hannie and Hyune?" Chan questions.

"Probably still in the cafeteria..." Minho responds, giving him a knowing look. 

Minho was the one keeping both him and Han in check at the moment. He felt bad for forcing him into a position like that, considering he was Chan's younger member. Even if it's just one year. Having to be a mediator daily between his two brothers, he knew it must've taken a toll on him. But he never complained, and Chan was grateful nonetheless. 

Chan nodded, and went to grab water from his bag. As he was chugging it, Jisung came into the room and went straight to Minho. Furiously whispering at him, pushing his hair back. Hyunjin trailed in not long after, his eyes darted to Chan, but looked away quickly. 

"What's going on?" Seungmin asked.

Minho just put his hand up to him, and the younger one scoffed. He turned to Felix, "The hyungs are acting fucking weird lately." 

Felix hummed in agreement, as he continued massaging Changbin. 

"Aye, I don't know what's going on either, don't group me in." Changbin grunted.

Chan hesitantly approached the bickering pair, and the look Minho now gave him was one of warning. But it was too late. 

"It's all your fault." Han spat at him. 

"Excuse me?" He bit back, not expecting such an outburst from him.

Hyunjin quickly jumped up to try and get between them and explain, "We saw y/n in the cafeteria toda-"

"She isn't coming over this weekend again. And she's not letting me over to hers either. She wants to be alone. I wonder why." Han interrupts, crossing his arms.

The room was eerily quiet. Everyone knew something was up, that much was obvious. The fact that Han was slightly vague though, it gives Chan the idea that the exact details remain relatively private. 

"Is she still here?" Chan whispers through clenched teeth, holding fierce eye contact with Han, but he's getting more daring.

"She's about to leave. YOU," Han pointed to Chan, poking his finger right into his chest, "need to figure your shit out, and stop playing around. Fix. It."

"HAN JISUNG." Minho yells sternly, "You need to stop being so disrespectful. No matter the situation, remember who you're talking to. Let's take a walk." 

He drags Han out of the room, and down the hall.

Chan was left standing there, ears burning and fists trembling at his sides. It was safe to say practice was done early for the day. So he quickly dismissed everyone, and was the first to leave.

He found himself searching for you throughout the building, with no luck. Until the elevator doors opened, he stepped on with his head hung down. So consumed in his own thoughts again, he didn't realize the other person at first. 

When he lifted his head to finally greet them, he was faced with you. You refused to even look at his way, choosing to face straight forward at the exit. 

"Y/n..." He managed to croak out, weakly. 

Silence, still. As soon as the doors opened, you rushed out. He was stuck standing there again. 

It was early Friday night, and you were already wrapped in the blankets on your bed. Aimlessly scrolling and tapping on tiktok, not even really paying attention to any of the videos. 

You weren't used to spending this much time alone, not anymore. You wanted to go see the people who you realized felt like home to you, especially in this foreign country. But you didn't want to deal with the fallout of the oldest. Jiji did beg to come over... You'd been missing him so much. You'd been missing everyone so much, even your co-workers.

Most of the work you do can be done from home, on your personal pc or work laptop. The majority of your co-workers had periods of time where they wouldn't set foot into the building for weeks at a time. You knew it wouldn't be weird to them if you worked from home for a while. So you've been opting to do that, only going into the building if you absolutely needed to.

Until today that is. At nearly 4 in the morning you were cc'd on multiple emails. The constant dinging woke you up. There was a huge issue with a group's new M/V. Footage was corrupted, drafts were deleted, and it had already passed the deadline. They needed all hands on deck. You were in such a rush to come in, you didn't bring any food or drinks with you. You had arrived about an hour after receiving the email, so by the time afternoon rolled around, you needed to get something in your system. Thankfully the major issues had been solved, but now came the fine tuning. You could finish up at home, but truthfully you missed being out and about. Even if it was just at work.

You reluctantly made your way down to the cafeteria, thinking you'd be safe because you know SKZ's schedule for today. You knew they'd be in dance practice. Oh how surprised you were when Jisung nearly tackled you to the ground. He was on you as soon as you came down the stairs to the main level. Your heart hurts when you see the glossy look in his eyes, paired with sadness. Hyunjin was right next to him, trying to pry him off of you and avoid a scene. Instead you pulled him into a group hug, which he eventually accepted, wrapping his arms around the both of you. 

They both badgered you with questions. Asking where you'd been, what happened, if you were mad at them. You were honest with them, and nearly broke down again. You weren't okay. You were hurt, and angry. But you assured them that you weren't angry with any of them, besides one obviously. And even though Jiji didn't bring up Chan exactly, or that night, you did. You started ranting about how stupid you felt for what happened. You've been holding it all in for the longest time, the words were rolling off your tongue effortlessly. 

You could see that at first, Hyunjin was a little shocked and confused. Possibly embarrassed judging by his pink tinted cheeks. But he held your other hand, that Ji wasn't holding, supporting you either way. You couldn't begin to express your appreciation. You'd half expected all the members to know exactly what happened. You also figured they'd side with Chan, and be upset at you for cutting off all contact basically. Considering Hyunjin didn't know what happened, you knew that wasn't the case. Relief washed over you slightly. 

It would be better if less people knew, less people to pick sides. In the grand scheme of things, this was only really between two people. There was no need to involve anyone else directly. On top of that, you'd never ask any of them to pick your side, not only because you know where you'd stand compared to their leader. You also wanted to avoid negative drama, and any arguments that might start with them.

Jisung begged you to come over tonight. Said that they would figure it out, that he would take you to his room even. He tried to make you laugh saying he'd even hang a sign saying 'no Chan's allowed' on his door. But you refused, not wanting to create uneasy tension, or make anyone feel uncomfortable in their own home. 

He then offered to come over and have a night just the two of you, and as tempting as it was, you found yourself wanting to be alone. Your go to method for self soothing was always solitude, even if it wasn't always healthy. 

You could see him deflating the more you denied his offers to spend time together. The anxiety was growing in his eyes. Knowing him, he was fearing that this was the end of your friendship. That simply could never happen.

'Give me just a few more days, and I'll be over it all. I'll be back to normal.'

That's what you told him, but you didn't even know if that was true. Regardless, you refused to lose your best friend over a situation like this.

One thing's for sure, you need to stop isolating. It wasn't helping as much as you convinced yourself it would. Just as you were debating texting Ji that you changed your mind, and to come over. Your phone chimed, and it was Jiji, he texted you first.

You threw the blankets off, opting to keep on your pajama shorts instead of changing. You slid a hoodie on over your cami though, because you refused to put a bra on. 

They're your friends and you know they'd never judge you or your home. Still you tidied up the take out containers, cups, and cans left in your kitchen and living room. You folded your throw blankets, and fluffed up the pillows on your couch. You quickly picked up the clothes strewn across your apartment, and threw them into your room. You'd deal with the laundry later. Lastly, you went to take the garbage out, and as you turned to go back inside, a car drove up and Ji hopped out. He was in a hoodie, with the hood pulled up. He also wore sunglasses, and a black mask. 

"Y/nie!" Ji said and ran up to hug you.

"Long time no see." You joke, wrapping your arms around him. 

Hyunjin was also semi disguising himself, also in a hoodie. He had a baseball cap on, with his hood also up. He covered his eyes with the visor, and wore a black mask as well. He sent off the driver with a thank you and wave.

"Don't tease. It's been an excruciating amount of time. I need to recharge." He said squeezing you tighter.

"Hey y/n." Hyunjin walked up next, carrying bags full of goodies. 

"Hey! Come on, give me those, let's get inside." 

After you lead them in, you guys get comfy in the living room. They brought drinks, and loads of snacks and candy. In no time, you fell into that familiar and comfortable groove of your usual weekend shenanigans. Just a smaller circle this time.

"So," Ji started with his cheeks full of cheesecake, "I got in trouble with Minho." 

"How?!" You giggled. 

"I think Minho saved you actually, the way Chan was looking at you? He needed to get you out of there, you were NOT giving it up." Hyune said. 

"Wait, what happened?" You sat up more, worried now. 

"Tchh, he wouldn't have laid a finger on me." He tried to act confidently, but the way he rubbed his hands together told a different story.

"You guys fought?!" You gasped.

When Ji said nothing, and avoided your eyes, Hyune decided to speak up.

"They've been fighting. Mostly silently. You know, avoiding each other, sending the other looks and glares. But some days Hannie can't keep his mouth shut."

You gave Ji a stern look, and he just swallowed his cake.

"Anyways," Ji said, clearly trying to get the subject off of Chan, "Minho was so angry with me. I got scolded so much, I nearly cried."

"Well, yelling at Chan in front of the entire group probably wasn't the smartest thing to do..." Hyune mumbled.

Suddenly, concern washed over you. Surprisingly for Chan. You couldn't help it when the words just slipped out.

"So... how is Chan?" You attempted to sound nonchalant, stuffing your mouth with a brownie immediately afterwards.

They were both staring at you, unsure of how to answer. 

"He's... tense. I get something clearly happened between you two, but I don't know exactly what's up. He seems angry, and lashes out at people verbally... But he's sad too, he's been attempting to hide away from everyone too." Hyune says. 

"He has no reason to be angry." Ji snaps.

"Ji..." You say, "You should stop being so hostile to him. He didn't do anything to you..." 

Damn that soft spot in your heart, even when you've been completely devastated by him, you're sitting here defending him. 

He gave you the stern look now, "No. But he did something to hurt you. He's acting like a god damn fuck boy, and I always knew him to be better than that. I've never seen you like this! He made you stop visiting us, you even stopped talking to me throughout the day. He created a divide. And I'm sorry to be selfish, but whether or not it was done to me, it still affected me too!"

The anguish in his voice shot through your chest, creating that god awful sinking feeling. He was right, but still... it wasn't only Chan that held the blame. You were guilty of your own actions. You never should've pushed any of them away, especially Hanji.

"Okay, I have to ask. What the hell happened, it seems like he did something really bad." Hyunjin finally asked, worry written all over his face.

Ji refused to look up from his cheesecake, he was now just mashing it up angrily on his plate. 

"I like Chan." You blurted out, "Well, I liked him. I still like him? I'm trying to get over him though. But it's proving to be more difficult than I thought, so maybe it's more than me just having a crush. I don't know. It feels ridiculous to have such big emotions towards him, considering we struggle to even hold a conversation. I know nothing substantial about him, and I'm sure it's vice-versa. But the last time I was over... We ended up... halfway hooking up in the hall? But he stopped. And he looked at me like I was crazy. Like he forgot who I was, and like... like he was disgusted that it was me he was touching." You started rambling now. 

"And I mean I get it. I'm me, nothing special. We were drunk, and I'm sure with the way we were feeling, it could've just been chalked up to hormones on overdrive. But... I really thought he was reciprocating my feelings. I feel so stupid, to put that much value into sex. It's just sex. And it didn't even happen! I don't know. It just hurt, it still hurts. The regret in his eyes, that stung so bad. Because I didn't regret it, fuck, I don't regret it... I'm just so angry. I can't seem to move on from this."

They both sat listening to you, as tears began to well in your eyes. Ji pulled you into him, your head resting on his chest. Your arm rested on top of his stomach, the other sliding between his back and the couch. He was carding his fingers through your hair, and scratching your scalp lightly, like he knew you liked.

"Stop talking down on yourself. I don't like seeing you tear yourself down with lies." Ji mumbled.

"I'm sorry you're going through this... Have you two... talked at all?" Hyunjin asked.

"No. I'm trying to avoid that. I already got my heart ripped out once, I don't want to go through it again." You nearly sobbed, thinking back to how he approached you in the elevator. All he said was your name, but his voice was filled with such strong emotions that you couldn't decipher. You'd just assumed it was still regret, and ran out of there as fast as you could. 

Hyunjin rubbed your knee comfortingly, "But maybe talking would help... I'm not trying to make excuses for him. He should've spoken up at that point, offered some sort of explanation or reassurance, something. That's on him for not opening his mouth, you'd obviously be confused about the whole thing. I don't know if you're interested in fixing things and talking it out, or even remaining friends with him. Regardless, I feel like some sort of closure would help you and help him. And unfortunately that does involve talking it out."

You nodded your head, "It probably would, but I don't feel like I'm ready. You didn't see his eyes. I can't handle it if he looks at me like that again." You whispered the next sentence, "I don't want anyone to look at me that way again. "

"I don't think Chan would ever be disgusted by you, I mean judging by the looks some of us have caught him giving you. He definitely finds you attractive, as he should." He smirked, making you give a breathy laugh through the tears, "Frankly, I'm shocked that you were even interested in him. I mean have you seen me?" He gestured to his face dramatically, turning from side to side and gave a few poses.

You and Ji both chuckled at him.

 "Or Felix? Even Innie lately is growing more into his features! Why not one of us?!" He nudged your leg with a laugh.

"HEY! If anyone gets to date my Jagi, it's obviously me. We'll be two hot, married best friends who suffer in abstinence, because we can't bring ourselves to consummate the marriage." Ji suddenly slurs, holding onto you tighter. 

Yeah, he was a little too quiet there for too long, the alcohol must've hit him.

You burst out laughing, and shove him away from you, "Gross Jiji!" 

"And thank you Hyune, but I feel like that can't be true. Even if he has checked me out, that's superficial. I mean we're human, we can feel a basic level of attraction to someone we see for only 2 seconds, and never get to see them again. When I say I like him, it's more than just a physical relationship. I know it's illogical, for so many reasons. Like I said, I barely even know him. There's been no attempt to even get on the same level, like how I know the rest of you. We barely talked, we had that huge argument, and he's always kept some distance from me... there's always been a detachment. So for me to want to be with him, even after all the signs of him wanting nothing to do with me? It's insane. He could never want that, could never want me. Not beyond a quick fuck apparently. And he couldn't even go through with that..."

You know you're starting to sound repetitive and bitter, and a little pathetic. But damn it, this hurts. And these thoughts were consuming your mind in a vicious continual cycle. 

Hyunjin just hummed, neither agreeing or disagreeing, "You know you can't help emotions y/n, they're borderline instinctual. Especially love, and I'm not saying you're in love with him, but to care for someone? That passion? It's got to count for some kind of love. It's such a powerful feeling, we have no control over it, it's humorlessly funny like that." 

You were listening to him talk intently, he was so poetic. Maybe it was the fact you were a little tipsy, but you were thinking that he should write more songs. More love songs specifically. 

"If we could control it, there'd be much less heartbreak in the world I think. Unrequited love wouldn't exist... With that in mind though, there'd be a lot less love overall. I mean think about it, love almost always comes with some sort of eventual pain. There'd be many people who'd just opt out altogether..." He paused for a moment before continuing, "And never discount things as impossible, everything is possible. I'm not saying this to try to give you hope or destroy your hope. I'm not saying this to persuade you either. I'm just saying sometimes things aren't so black and white. Grey exists too, and it's a pretty beautiful shade if you ask me. I think you should talk to him about it." He finished

You nodded and offered a smile, "Maybe I should, and thank you."

You gestured for him to join you and Ji on the couch, and he rested against you. His head on your shoulder, creating a momentary cuddle pile, with you sandwiched in the middle.

You were so grateful to these boys, helping to piece you back together when you felt so broken. And over something seemingly insignificant to most. Ji was physically comforting you, and Hyune was comforting you mentally and emotionally. He just seemed to understand the world on a different level, able to see perspectives that might not always be clear to most. His mind was a beautiful place, and you felt honored that he let you in. You both formed a special bond tonight, similar yet completely different to you and Ji.

And, oh Ji... he wasn't getting off scot free.

"And you," You looked up to Ji, who was looking down at you wide eyed, "You need to apologize for your behavior with Chan. I understand you want to protect me, and I love you for that. Immensely. But he's your leader. He's done and sacrificed so much for you and your members. I'm sure no one knows what's going through his head. Stop giving him such a hard time... I'll figure out a solution with him eventually... even if it's just practicing being civil with each other. For now, try not to take things out on him. I'm sorry I stopped coming around. That fault lies completely on me, and it was petty. I won't avoid anyone anymore, so promise me you'll apologize. And that means as soon as you see him!"

He looked at you, processing your words before answering, "...fine. But seriously... don't go dark on me again, Jagiya." He said quietly. 

You smiled, and snuggled up closer to him, "I won't, my poor baby."

The three of you continued chatting, catching up on all the crazy things you missed out on. Apparently a lot can happen in two weeks. You were angry you missed out on a weekend camping trip. Apparently they all had gotten so drunk, except Chan. And I.N. kept threatening to hit people with his shoe. They informed you that Chan was very quiet on the trip. He kept to himself mostly, and binge ate ice cream instead of sharing a drink with the rest. 

You couldn't get your mind off Hyunjin's words. Chan has been watching you? The amount of time you spent checking him out, you'd figured if that were true you would have noticed. Maybe he was sneakier than you thought. Then again, that night your eyes did meet more than once or twice... You kept catching him looking at you. Maybe what Hyune said was true.

You were stuffed, full of candy and sweets. And also a little tipsy. It was getting late. Close to an hour later, you sent them home in a rideshare, telling them both to text you when they get home. Then you made sure to text Minho, alerting him of exactly how drunk Han was, and apologizing. You knew he'd be the one stuck taking care of him, if there's anyone who loves Ji as much as you, it's Minho. He might love him even more, having known him for much longer than you did. If the boys didn't have such a busy schedule this week, you'd be able to have Ji and Jinnie spend the night and take care of them yourself. 

A weight was lifted off your shoulders, and you silently cursed yourself for hiding yourself away for so long. You always did that, and it never ended well. You really were thankful to Ji, you don't know what you'd do without him.

That night, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep quicker, easier. But even as slumber was pulling you in, Chan was still on your mind. 

Chan was sitting on the couch with Minho, having been forced out of his room and pushed to socialize. He hadn't done much, he was in his thoughts again. Occasionally entertaining the others with curt responses and short conversations here and there. They seemed to just be happy with his presence, and he was thankful for that.

Jisung and Hyunjin had gone to your house, and the unknown made him feel uneasy. He was happy though, because that meant you weren't cutting everyone off, you weren't done with the entire group, you were staying in their lives.

Everyone but the man that fucked up it would seem. Still, he felt relief. He wouldn't forgive himself if he was the cause of a valuable friendship lost for everyone.

The rest of the members had gone to sleep by now, but he and Minho were waiting for the two younger members to arrive home. You had texted Minho saying they were on their way back, and to take care of them as they were drunk. Jisung especially. 

He was wondering what was taking them so long, and he could tell Minho had some worry too. His leg shaking up and down. Then, as if on cue, Hyunjin bursts through the door. He has Hannie in his grasp, pulling him along as he tries to resist entering the dorm.

Hyune mumbled, "C'mon. You promised her." 

He started to feel flushed, and hot. What does that mean?

He gave Hannie a push towards Chan, and Minho gave a worried look to both of them. He was expecting the worst. Jisung was staring at his feet, playing with his fingers and biting his lip. 

Chan didn't think he could feel more disheartened than he already was, but it was apparently possible. Staring at Hannie in front of him, he looked so defeated. What had happened at your house?

Finally he looked up to Chan. And Chan was sure his face mirrored the younger ones anxiety. 

Then Han started tearing up, "I'm sorry Channie-hyung!" He wailed, and collapsed into Chan's arms. 

Chan was shocked, but he just held him close, and softly shushed him, trying to comfort him. He was trying to offer understanding and his own apologies. But Jisung ignored it babbled on, recanting his negative actions and harsh words. Chan respected the fact that he was apologizing, but he already knew why he had said the things he said. Why he had done the things he did. In fact, he held a sense of pride towards Hanji for it. It wasn't easy for him to stand up to Chan. And while, yes, he was being inappropriate from a certain viewpoint, he expected nothing less from the boy trying to protect his best friend. He couldn't be angry with him about that fact.

If anything he just felt more guilty that he had to protect you from Chan at all.

He continued slurring, stuttering, and sniffling in between talking. His words were barely coherent at this point, but Chan did catch one sentence.

"I thought I was losing her forever because of that night..."

Chan never felt more disappointed in himself, his entire being crumpled. Not only did he hurt you, he hurt Han. He's hurt the other members who grew to care for you just as much as he did. He never intended to hurt anyone, and instead he hurt many. It was all his fault.

With the help of Minho, they dragged Han to bed. Minho stayed with him, tucking him in, then getting him water and paracetamol for the morning. Minho stated he'd be spending the night in Han's room, just in case he was going to be sick. So Chan went out to check on Hyunjin, hoping he wasn't as inebriated but expecting as much. He found him in the kitchen, a bottle of water in one hand and a chip bag in the other.

"You feeling okay, Hyunjin?"

"Yeah, I didn't have as much as Han did..." He trailed off, "Neither did y/n." He was eyeing Chan as he continued, a glint in his eye while he said it.

Chan just nodded and kept silent, knowing he was trying to get at something. And it didn't feel like it was anything but teasing. Hyunjin wasn't having that though, he never did when people ignored what he had to say.

"Y/n made Han apologize you know," He started as he opened his chips, "I mean we both know he would've eventually. But she made him promise he would apologize as soon as he saw you."

That piqued his interest somewhat. He didn't view you as a mean person, but he figured you wouldn't mind seeing him distressed due to Han. In fact when he was standing in front of him, he was sure that he was about to get cussed out. By order of you, maybe. Considering Hyune said that Han promised you something. He wouldn't blame you, he deserved it after all.

But no. You were continuing to be your kind and sweet self. Even towards the person who upset you. He was confused.

"Why?" Chan finally whispered, more to himself than Hyune. 

"I believe her words were, 'he's done and sacrificed so much for you' and 'no one knows what's going through his head'. So she suggested that he, well more like intimidated him, to apologize." He said while dipping his hand into the bag of chips, "It was cute, really. She was almost... protective." 

With that he popped a chip in his mouth, and went off to bed, leaving Chan dumbstruck in the kitchen yet again.

His heart was thumping in his ears, unsure of how to interpret those words. But they meant something, right? Hyunjin was a tease, sure, but he must know what happened. He wasn't just teasing about this? Surely he wouldn’t go to that extent.

'No one knows what's going through his head.' 

You were right. No one knows. You don't know. He needed to talk to you, he needed to let you know. He needed to let you in, even if it was hard.

Suddenly he felt hope again. It was small and shriveled, but alive. He was sure with enough care and nourishment, something precious could bloom from it. 

The week flew by, and now it was nearing the weekend again. Things almost felt normal. You had returned to the office regularly, no longer working from home. Your time with Ji had gone back to normal, Jinnie often tagging along now. And the other members were glad you had started showing up again too. Everyone was excited to recommence the late night antics at their dorm tonight.

You couldn't help but notice Chan seemed relieved too, a little too relieved. Even though you clearly gave him the cold shoulder. It didn't seem to bother him. You obviously have an idea of why his attitude towards you changed drastically, but what you don't have an idea of is what his goal is. You can't necessarily say he's acting as if nothing had happened anymore, because of his new demeanors. But he still hasn't mentioned anything to you directly. His gall was starting to irritate you. His mixed signals were angering you. 

If you were to think logically and assume, maybe in his head, he had been attempting some sort of effort to 'fix' things. But you tried to shut it down every single time, still unsure of his reasoning. Because he still never brought up that night, and was acting as if nothing happened at all. As if his reasoning for trying to be more friendly didn't exist. It was ridiculous. 

Before that night, it was always you making sure to greet him first, you striking up small talk, you trying to crack jokes with him. All small and simple gestures, but gestures nonetheless. If only to keep things polite and civil. The tables seemed to have turned, and now he was initiating it all. In front of others you were short with him, but made sure to still be polite. There was a deeper detachment than before, and it didn't go unnoticed by the others either. Though they kept their mouths shut, only eyeing the interactions between you two. 

In your head you figured that he'd get the hint and stop trying so hard at whatever it was he was trying at. You hoped it would trigger a conversation about that night finally. It got to the point where it started to create an awkward vibe in the presence of the others. But no, he still wouldn't stop. He just amped it up, and now the dynamic was once again changing. 

He'd figured out the exact times you would take your breaks, and would manage to catch you before anyone else could. When you stepped off the elevator, he'd be waiting for you with a smile, and offer to buy you a snack. You'd decline, instead opting to take a small walk and stretch your legs. When you get back to your desk you'd find your favorite cookies on them, or your favorite candy bar, or your favorite drink from the vending machine. They were always wrapped nicely or bagged with a bow, with a note attached. It usually reads something like, 'don't forget to eat today! --Channie'. 

You would always hand them out to your co-workers, or offer the singular items to your office bestie, before crumpling the note and throwing it out. 

He'd taken to somehow always being there to hold a door open for you. Or trying to hold your bags when he caught you using the stairs instead of the elevator, actively trying to avoid him. Or when you were helping staff move the camera equipment from room to room, he'd try to take the load off your hands. It always ended in you snapping at him in a whisper. And him furrowing his brows like he didn't understand what he did wrong.

It's not that his actions were wrong, actually. They were the opposite, but why? Why was he doing all this, when he never did before. He was putting all this effort into acts of service, when all you wanted to do was talk. It was hard for you to bring it up, especially when he was acting so sweet yet pissing you off at the same time. 

You should've realized it'd be hard for him to bring it up too, but you didn't. Because of that, there was the Wednesday incident. 

You were heading home for the day, not having had a run in with Chan all day, and unsure how to feel about it. You were almost out the door when you heard heavy footsteps coming towards you from across the lobby, and your stomach twisted. 

Chan.

"Hey! Wait!" He said with a smile, "I'll walk you to your car." 

You'd had enough at that point. You rolled your eyes, and continued out the door. But you knew he'd catch up anyways. 

As his pace aligned with yours, he kept talking, "Sorry I couldn't catch you at all today, it was a busy one. It still is, I think I'll be stuck in the studio all night. Han too, we finally figured out the ho--"

"Chan!" You cut him off, "Really? What makes you think I'm in the mood to talk to you? What makes you think I was waiting for your presence at all? You don't need to apologize for being busy. We're at work. We're working. It's what we do." You spat out, more abrasive than you've ever been to him. 

He looked at you wide eyed, and you felt something akin to guilt pang in your chest. Immediately you ignored it, and kept walking. Only for him to latch onto your arm gently. 

"I don't understand." He said, discouragement lacing his voice. "I'm trying to... trying to--" 

"Trying to what? What exactly is it that you're trying to do? Because I can't figure it out. You're being so hot and cold, you went from one extreme to the other. I don't know how to decipher that."

"I just want things to go back to being okay again! I want us to be normal again." He said exasperated. 

"Okay?!" You chuckled, "Normal? Our normal was borderline avoiding each other, which I am keeping up with very well, thank you. Our normal was talking to each other out of necessity. Our normal was little to no interaction, unless we're in a group. Whatever you're trying at, it's not our normal!" You shouted.

"No, what I mean is-" but you cut him off again, too heated to think logically.

"Our normal definitely didn't include me against a wall, and your fingers inside me and around my throat. THAT is not our normal. And I know it made things uncomfortable. And I know you regret it. But how can you expect things to go back to being whatever you think 'okay' is, if we haven't even talked about it?" You took a second to suck air into your lungs that seemed to be burning with rage. 

"Instead you talk to me like that night never happened, and then you behave as if we've been best friends forever. You act as if that behavior, whatever your reason for it, isn't influenced by that night. You talk to me about things we never talked about before. We never caught up on how each other's day was, we never checked in with each other to make sure the other ate, we never took breaks together to get coffee or a snack and chat. You're expecting me to be the same as you, and ignore what happened. But I can't Chan, I can't do it. All I want is closure, instead it feels almost like I'm being led on. Before that happened, I was insignificant to your life. Our only connection being Ji! Then... then in an instant everything changed and then it changed again. It's confusing Chan. I'm lost here." 

The tears were brimming in your eyes, and his ears were the brightest red you've ever seen. The flush went to his cheeks, and down his neck, and the grip he had on your arm was trembling. He started to open his mouth again, but you were quick to stop him. You felt like all he would give you right now is excuses, and you weren't ready to hear that.

"Please, Chan. I'm the one who's trying. I'm trying to move past it, like you seem to want to. But it's harder for me. When I feel like this, all I want to do is go home and hide. I can't do that though, not again. I'm trying to be civil. I'm trying to be polite, for the sake of everyone in our lives. But you keep pushing for some sort of friendship we never had..." You felt the dampness on your cheeks now, and before you knew it, your last sentence slipped through, "And did it ever occur to you that I wanted more than a simple friendship?" 

At that he let your arm fall, and he took in a shaky breath. You figured now was the time he would say something, but he seemed frozen. Then he spoke in a soft tone.

"I'm so sorry y/n, I promise I can explain..."

That was it, your heart started to ache at the thought of his words. You weren't ready to be rejected again. So you rubbed your cheeks, one at a time, swiping the tears away and sniffling. He reached towards you again, stepping closer, but you stepped back. 

"I need to go."

And you left. You got in your car, and you held it all in. The whole drive home, you refused to let yourself process any of the conversation. Which in reality was less of a conversation, and more you blowing up on Chan. 

It wasn't until you stepped through your door that you sunk to the floor, back against your front door and started sobbing. You let it all out. The guilt for yelling at him. The despair over the rejection, that never left your heart. The embarrassment over the entire situation and how you were acting. Your unjust, pure anger. It all just came out in tears. You couldn't stop them, your only focus was on breathing when you could. 

You didn't know how long you stayed like that, hugging your knees and bawling your eyes out. But the sound of keys jingling, and the pressure of the door pushing against your back, is what snapped you out of that grief stricken daze.

"Oh, Jagiya..." You registered Hans voice as you stood up to move, you forgot you gave him keys to your place.

He scooped you into his chest, squeezing you tight. You held onto him, just as firm. 

"Wait..." You were confused, Chan said they both would be late in the studio, "What are you doing here?"

He pulled back and scanned your face as you sniffled. He sighs, and leads you into your kitchen, wetting a towel and dabbing at your puffy eyes and cheeks before drying them. Once you seemed to be in a pacified state, he continued. 

"An unintelligent kangaroo I happen to know, told me I should head home early and check on you. He seems to be more intelligent than I thought." He tried to make light of the situation, but guilt bubbled up in you once again. 

"Wanna talk about what happened?" He offered. 

And so you word vomited at him. Retelling the whole scene word for word, since the words were mostly your own. He listened, nodding when necessary, and humming in agreement to some parts. When you were done, you looked at him and waited. 

He was looking down with his arms crossed, leaning against your kitchen counter. He looked deep in thought. 

"Well?" You said desperately. 

"Well, I think it's good one of you finally broke the ice on it. You got it off your chest, you said what you needed to. Yeah, maybe you were rude. But now the door to talk about it finally was opened. However, maybe you should've heard him out. Seems like he could barely get a word in edgewise. If I know you when you're angry, which I do, I know you never planned on letting him speak. You always have to have the last word, my little attack chihuahua."

Then he poked your forehead, "Stubborn. Defensive. Both of you." 

You groaned, "I know, I know. I'm already beating myself up over it." 

"When will either of you learn? You don't need to beat yourself up over it, you just need to communicate. You missed your opportunity today, but that doesn't mean all hope is lost. I know he really wants to talk to you."

"Talk again?" You scrunch your face at the idea, even while knowing it had to happen.

"Apologize, is more like it." He retorted. 

Your face dropped, but you knew he was right. 

"Hey, you made me do it. And it was the right thing to do. Like you said, no matter how angry I am, I needed to apologize. The same rules apply to you... Plus I've been hesitant to say this but..."

"What?"

"If he wanted to stop in the middle of it all, he had every right to. I know it hurts but, no means no, you know?" 

Guilt flooded your veins yet again, are you really coming across as some sort of hostile person after facing a rejection? You suppose it was half right, which made you feel disappointed in yourself. You were no better than the men who throw tantrums when women reject them. In your mind though, you were more upset at ignoring it all. 

"I know that, and currently I'm not angry because sex didn't happen. I'm angry because I don't understand why it almost happened, and I want an explanation. I just want to know why he was so cold to me the entire time before it happened, and why he tried to act like nothing happened and was friendlier to me afterwards. If he wanted to stop because he changed his mind and wasn't feeling it, that's fine. But he could've said that, I'd be hurt because I like him so much, but I'd get over it. Why I'm upset now is because I don't like the mixed signals. I don't like the unknown. I want closure."

"To get closure you have to talk to him y/n, you avoid him just as much as he used to avoid you. Now that he's stopped, you're still avoiding him. And acting kind of rude to him, we've all seen it. The fake smiles don't really hide the contempt in your eyes. You're always valid in your emotions always, but I've recently learned that it's the reaction that you are held responsible for. That goes for him too, even though his reactions may not be as hostile as yours. His reaction of ignoring it, is just as hurtful to you. But... I have a feeling if you hear him out, you'll get your closure." 

Again, you knew he was right about it all. You knew you had been bitter and immature about the entire situation. You paced for a moment, thinking about how you could even apologize to him. He'd been trying to fix things, and talk just like you wanted. Why have you held on to all that anger for so long? You were in the wrong too, more so than he was. You needed to apologize quickly.

"Just take the night to process and decompress. You'll have plenty of opportunities to talk with him, especially since his mission in life lately is just that. Again, we've all noticed it, he can't seem to leave you alone."

"Do you know what he's up to?" You squint your eyes at Ji suspiciously. 

"He won't tell anyone exactly why he's doing what he's doing. But I have my own speculations, which I won't be sharing because I'm not trying to meddle and put ideas in your head. After talking with him a bit tonight, I don't think he's aiming to hurt you, that's for sure." 

You sighed again, and nodded. 

"Now. Dinner and comfort anime? I'm thinking.... Nana?" 

"God, yes please. I need a distraction from realizing how much of an asshole I was. That I was actually the one starting issues." You groan, and you both plop down the couch and start to order food. 

Ji went home half an hour ago, and you're now staring at your phone. Debating the text you typed up to Chan. Your finger was hovering over the send button. It would be better to apologize in person, but you weren't sure you could face him without some sort of emotional outburst anymore. It was something you needed to work on. So maybe smoothing things over through text before you spoke with him would help.  

You read it over one last time... God you sounded too professional, like you were talking to your boss. You hit send anyway, you weren't going to come up with anything better to say. You put your phone down, only for it to buzz a minute later.

Good... things are starting to get better. Or so you thought. 

You didn't see him at all on Thursday, nor spoke to him. You didn't see Jiji either, but he confirmed through text that Chan had been cooped up with him in the studio. You felt bad, knowing you probably added more stress to their jobs. Especially considering Ji ditched work yesterday to comfort you. 

Now it was Friday, and they were back at work in the studio again. Hyunjin was over yours because he finished up early, the both of you were just hanging out. Waiting for everyone else to get out. The nine of you were recommencing weekend get togethers.

"You should bring them food." Hyunjin, who was currently laying across your couch suggested.

He could sense your anxiety, constantly checking your phone for the time. He knew you wanted to talk to Chan, finally.

"I don't want to interrupt them, I already did that yesterday." You mumbled.

"Tch, like either of them would really view you as an interruption. They'd be elated."

"Ji? Yes, yes he would. You know things are weird between me and Chan though." You whined.

"Mmm, but this could be your chance to fix it." He suggested in a sing-song voice. 

You actually debated it, but you didn't want to prolong his work tonight by stealing time for a conversation. A most likely lengthy conversation. 

You looked at the clock, still debating and wondering if you had time. When you saw the time you realized it was much later than you thought. 

"Shit, forget food. We're going to be late." 

Hyunjin glanced at the time and nodded, "Alright, let's head to mine."

You grabbed your keys and headed for the door, Hyunjin followed and soon you both were in the car on the way to the dorm. 

Once you got there, and Hyunjin let you in, you realized everyone was already here, judging by the pile of shoes. It seemed, the majority were getting cleaned up and changed into fresh clothes. 

"I'm going to change too! I need to get out these jeans and into something comfier. Just make yourself at home!" He said while heading to his bedroom. 

You sat on the couch and started scrolling on your phone. You were laughing at a funny video when you heard someone walking down the hall. Of course Chan is the first to finish, and he decides to join you on the couch. He takes the seat next to you, like right next to you. 

"Um... Do you have to sit so close?" You say in the softest voice you could manage.

Remember. Stay level headed, no snapping, no meltdown, no blow ups. Don't yell. 

He looks at you a bit defeated, and moves to the other end of the couch. 

You sigh. Things were still touchy. It can't keep continuing on like this, it's too uncomfortable for you both. You have to apologize and make amends. It's now or never, but he speaks before you the chance. 

"Y/n. Is now a good time to talk?" He says in a serious tone, with a stern look on his face. 

You tense under his gaze, and your stomach feels like it's sinking. Was he that mad at you? You kind of understand why though. 

"S-sure." You stuttered.

His eyes darkened, tongue poking his cheek. He's getting shifty now, and glancing down the hallway.

 "Do you mind if we talk in private?" 

You suppose it would be even more uncomfortable if someone else happened across you two discussing this. So when he stands up and heads towards his room, you follow him into it. 

His room was neat. You'd never been in it before, and sure, you've seen the live streams. But it was a very different feeling, seeing it through a screen versus being inside it. 

He sits on his bed, and pats the spot next to him for you to sit. You opt for leaning against the door, arms crossed in front of you. You were feeling defensive still, and didn't want to push your limits. It was his turn to sigh now, as he hung his head.

"Y/n I meant it when I said I'm really tryi--"

"Can I say something first... and then I promised I won't interrupt you again."

He just nods, with his tongue poking his cheek again. You know you're pushing his buttons, but you felt you needed to apologize before anything. Now you decided to sit next to him, twisting your torso to face him. And he did the same to face you. 

"I'm sorry for the way I acted. It was incredibly childish." You sighed, "I know you had every right to change your mind, and I shouldn't have gotten so angry over it. I never meant to act so toxic towards you. I should've just accepted the fact that you wanted to stop and moved on. But the truth is... I've liked you for a while now. So when that happened, in my head, I took it as you reciprocating my feelings. Which doesn't make any sense, because you never knew of my feelings.”

Chan snorted a bit, trying to conceal a laugh.

“Then when you stopped, paired with the look on your face, it felt like you realized you made a mistake doing that with me. You looked like you were disgusted. Which I promise you, I now totally understand if that's the case. But it still hurt me... regardless, I shouldn't have reacted the way I did. So again, I'm sorry. I truly am. I hope you can forgive me." You managed to get it all out clearly, with a steady tone. 

He was staring at you with a thoughtful look on his face, soaking in your words, processing. Then he smirked, and that was the last thing you expected. 

"I guess you were acting a little bratty." He chuckled a bit. 

Then he reached for your hand, putting his on top of yours. You felt the fluttering in your stomach at his simple action. But you flipped your hand over anyways, palm up and letting him hold it.

"But y/n, you've got it all wrong, and it's partly my fault." He started, and your eyebrows furrowed, a look of confusion falling on your face.

"I like you too," he squeezed your hand gently, and it was oddly comforting, "The reason I stopped is because I didn't want you to think that all I wanted from you was sex. Because I want so much more." 

Were you dreaming? Is he really confessing right now? Even after how horrible you were towards him?

"I know the way I acted before doesn't exactly translate to me having feelings for you." He continued, "The truth is I was too scared to confess, until that night. The liquor gave me that extra boost of confidence, and you just... looked so beautiful. And the game we played, and catching you look my way multiple times. It almost confirmed to me that you wanted me too. Because I wanted you then and there. So when I saw you in the hallway, I thought it was my chance. But I let the lust take over."

Heat started to spread in your lower stomach at his words, and he kept going. 

"I wanted to do things the proper way. I wanted to confess, and ensure that you knew I was serious about you, and not a fling. I wanted to take you out on dates, and properly ask you to be mine. I should have just said it all that night. I got scared again though, and just froze. And I know the way I was acting right after was confusing, I didn't mean to give you mixed signals."

Your head was spinning with all the information he was sharing, it truly felt like you were in a daydream. Then you found your voice again.

"It felt like you were disgusted with me." You whispered, "And then you were acting so nonchalant about the whole thing, as if it never happened. I guess I was assuming things."

He cupped your cheek, and comfortingly rubbed his thumb against it

"I could never be disgusted by you, love."

You had to resist a shiver at him calling you that pet name.

"I wanted us both to be sober too. That's why I idiotically told you to drink water, and rest. And the next morning, I was so nervous because you were rushing to leave. You had tears in your eyes, I said the first thing to pop into my head. I was hoping to talk about everything that morning. But then you walked out the door, and I felt like I had no right to stop you.  Then Hannie was so mad at me, you stopped coming around. I felt like I fucked everything up and I lost all hope for a while." He sounded distraught.

“Until Hannie argued with me, yelling at me to fix things. He outright put the entire blame on me, and he did this in front of everyone. So that experience paired with your disappearance from our lives, especially Hannies life. He was so lost without you, I knew I had to try and fix it right away. I had been wanting to, I was just so unsure how to go about it. But Han's words pushed me to just go for it."

You took the opportunity to scoot closer to him, side by side now. He threw his arm around your waist. 

"The elevator... ugh. I was just so hurt, I was so sure that you were going to come up with excuses, try to let me down easy. I was terrified of the rejection. I had no idea, I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, we were both a little clueless about everything."

"I guess we were just a little stupid, huh?" You laughed.

He chuckled, "Just a bit."

"Then when Hyunjin happened to mention something, that's when I fully had hope again. So I tried to approach you, and be friendly, and get you snacks. I tried to help you out at work when I could. I was still unsure of how to bring it up to you." He admitted.

You felt so ashamed, "And then I went and yelled at you. I didn't even let you speak, ugh. I'm so sorry." 

"Again with the apologizing," He chuckled, "I told you, we were just confused about it. There was a lot of miscommunication... when we did talk anyways."

"I know, I was feeling and throwing mixed signals. All I wanted the entire time was to talk about it. Yet, I tried to avoid you at all costs. It doesn't exactly make sense. God, I was so... so childish."

"You were feisty is what you were. And I'm sure you still are." He joked.

You giggled. It was unbelievable how understanding he was. It was more shocking how wrong you were about his feelings. You had completely misconstrued everything. Assuming the worst. You couldn't be happier about being so wrong.

Nuzzling into his chest, and wrapping your arm around his torso, had him humming contently. But then you thought of what he said earlier. 

"What did Hyunjin say...?"

He cleared his throat, "When you made Hannie apologize to me, Jin said that you were acting almost protective over me. It made me think that I had a chance of proving my feelings for you."

"So that's the true reason why you were so friendly, and constantly getting me things and trying to help me out. You were lowkey trying to confess.” You looked up to him smiling.

He was blushing now, "Yeah, but I realize I was still doing things a little out of order. I'm terrible at communicating I guess." 

"Channie..." you said for the first time, and his blush got deeper, "I know it means a lot to you to do things traditionally. And I appreciate the effort you put in to accomplish that. But to me, it doesn't matter as much. We could've figured everything out afterwards." You said softly, and he was smiling down at you. 

"I guess I should catch up to the modern age." He joked. 

"Never! You prove that chivalry isn't dead. I love that you're a romanticist. Don't change." You laughed, "And... the communication problems? That's something we can both work on. I need to fix that in me too."

You felt him tense, and he caught your chin between his fingers, pushing you to look up at him further. You felt the warmth of his breathing spread across your face, he had that same look on his face as when he leant in to kiss you that night. Wetness was now pooling in your panties, and you had to resist clenching your thighs together. He was so in tune with your body language, and he caught it last time. You're sure he would notice again. You didn't want him to think you were rushing him into sex.

"So... does that mean you want to give us a go?" He was so serious when he said it, you could see the glint of excitement in his eyes though. 

"Of course, it's a dream come true." You smiled at him.

He was quick to bring his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly, softly. You sighed into the kiss, and felt like you were melting into him as you turned your body towards him more. You brought your hands up, one resting on the side of his neck, the other on his shoulder. He brought his other hand to the back of your head, and combed his fingers into your curls. 

He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, licking your bottom lip. Your tongue met his, and soon you were wrestling against his for dominance. He started leaning you back against his bed, adjusting himself on top of you, knees on either side of your thighs. His hands roamed your body and he never broke away from your lips. You were nearly panting into his mouth, giving up and allowing him to explore your mouth. Your hands clutching his shirt like it would save you. The kiss was messy, downright sloppy, and you loved it. You were both desperate for this.

You wanted to imprint his touch into your mind. Every area he grazed made you feel tingly all over. Your entire body was oversensitive for him. You'd never felt like this with anyone else. 

Then he was playing with the hem of your shirt, his fingers grazing your stomach. You mewled at that, and he groaned. It was so high pitched it nearly sounded like a whimper. 

"Please... I still want you." He whispered against your lips. 

You were breathing heavy, chest heaving. You couldn't help it when your hips bucked up, letting yourself get consumed by lust, "Yes, god yes. I need you."

He re-positioned himself, lowering his body onto yours and letting his hips grind into you. You could feel his length against you through his shorts, and you whined. Even this felt like ecstasy, he almost made you cum last time from dry humping. He was so skilled at making sure you got friction exactly where you needed it. It was driving you feral. 

His lips attached to your neck, kissing, sucking, and biting his way down to your chest. His hand groped your breast, kneading it. Then he rolled over, flipping your position, so you were on top of him. It was your turn to grind your hips, your core rubbing directly on his erection. He threw his head back, mouth hanging open. His hands gripped your waist, helping you move against him. 

Things felt less rushed this time around. It felt like all time stopped, and the only thing that existed in the world was you and him. You wanted to be lost in this passion with him forever. The high he made you feel, made your head all hazy with desire. 

"Fuck..." He whispered as he looked up at you, seeing how fucked out you looked already. 

His hands slipped underneath your shirt, pulling it up. You took the hint and ripped it off, unclasping your bra afterwards. 

You had to admit, you felt your face flush again, at being exposed to him. But he soon wiped the thought from your mind, leaning up and placing soft kisses all over your chest. He kissed up to your collar bones, he kissed each mound, kissed in between them, he even kissed your nipples so gently. 

You were learning he was a tease.

One hand was kneading your breast again, the other braced against your back. Then his lips closed around one of your nipples, and his hot tongue swirled around it. His hand now playing with the other. Pinching, flicking, and rubbing. He braced the hand against your back, pushing you into him more, while he sucked your nipple harshly. You whimpered, and your hips started rolling against him again.

He pulled off with a pop, and mumbled "I could worship these tits love, all of you is so gorgeous."

His words made you blush, and then he pushed you onto your back again. He clearly wasn't scared to manhandle you at all. He was quickly unbuttoning and unzipping your jeans.

"Need to tase you..." He mumbled again.

You liked needy Chan, somehow he kept the perfect balance of dominant yet deprived for you. He positioned himself between your legs, kissing and licking every inch of them. He held your inner thigh, pushing your legs apart to expose your panties. He placed a kiss on your clothed center, and groaned at the wet spot that was already there. His tongue peeked out, and he licked a slow stripe up, making your underwear wetter. Your eyes rolled back and you sighed, craving more.

And did you mention that you loved how vocal he was? 

He licked his lips as he glanced up at you, mumbling "Taste so good, 'M gonna be addicted. Wanna be between your thighs all the time."

Then he spoke more clearly, with a smirk on his face "You're going to sit on my face one day. I want you to ride it."

You whined at the thought, and pushed your hips up, searching for friction. He took the opportunity to slide your panties to the side, and his tongue slid between your folds immediately. 

You moaned loudly as his tongue flicked against your clit. You felt like you were on fire, yet shivering at the goosebumps spreading all over your body. Your hand reached down to his hair, and he groaned again, making his lips vibrate against you. 

"Mmm... fuck." You moaned as you rocked your hips against his face. 

He has no objections, but he momentarily paused to rip your panties off. Then he wraps his arms around each thigh, forcing you to open wider for him. He buried his face in you, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. 

You gasped at the intrusion, your hand squeezing tighter into his hair. It had you nearly wailing. You'd never felt that before, and you think you could cum from it.

When his lips closed around your clit, he sucked. You were panting, feeling that familiar pleasure slowly coil in your lower abdomen. 

He wasn't shy at all about devouring you, making slurping and squelching sounds. He brought his hand to your entrance, and slipped two fingers inside. You moaned, and he let you adjust before curling his fingers and pumping into you. Your orgasm is building faster now. 

Writhing on the bed, and clutching his sheets, he did his best to keep you still. You were a moaning and whining mess. You couldn't help but be loud. His hand moved faster, as the tip of his tongue flicked at your clit. It was all too much as you felt your climax wash over your. You let out a desperate groan, your legs quivering as his hand squeezed your thigh tighter, preventing you from squeezing your legs shut.

Once you whimpered at the overstimulation, he stopped. Giving your clit one last kiss, sending one last shiver up your spine. Your chest was heaving, you were out of breath. He climbed up your body, wiping your juices and his saliva off his chin with the back of his hand. When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on him, and you hummed as you licked against his tongue.

He kept kissing you, and you tugged at his shirt, "No fair, I'm completely naked and you're fully dressed."

He chuckled and sat up, pulling his shirt off. You reached up to feel his abs, fingers tracing between each muscle. You moved up to his pecks, and when your palm grazed against his nipple, he hissed. Picking up on it, it was your turn to kiss his chest, making sure to pay special attention to his nipples. Your tongue lapping at them, and then sucking them. 

He quickly turned into a whining mess. His voice making you grow wetter, and clenching around nothing. 

You really loved how vocal he was.

He made quick work of pulling his pants and boxers off, and leaned back down to kiss you. The pressure of his weight on top of you was comforting, and you placed your arms on his shoulders. His cock twitched against your core, and you were mewling again. 

He smiled against your lips and whispered, "Is my love needy right now?"

Then his fingers wrapped around your neck, and you bit your lip. Your hand was now on top of his, making him squeeze lightly, and you whined.

"Does my baby girl want to be choked right now?”

"Chan if you don't fuck me right now, I swear I'll--"

Before you could finish, he was gripping the base of his member. Sliding into you at a steady pace, and you gasped. He lets you adjust again. The length surprised you, and his girth stretched you deliciously. You always knew this man was hung. 

His hand never left your throat, and he did add more pressure around it. But you still desperately needed more.

He must've read your mind, or at least your face, "You're really into breathplay huh? Need it harder?"

Your mind was clouded in pleasure, you felt so full having him inside you. His hand on your throat only heightens it. So you nodded as best you could. 

"Remember, I need the words baby girl." 

"Yes, yes, fuck yes." You moaned.

He nearly growled as he pulled out and snapped his hips into you sharply. He kept pumping into you. Rolling his hips into you roughly, skin slapping against skin. His hand squeezed your throat tightly, cutting off all oxygen and then easing up, so you could get a proper breath in. Everything felt blissful, consumed by need. 

Your hips started rolling, meeting each of his thrusts. You were focused on making sure you both got off.

He had his eyes closed, face scrunched in concentration and panting, "Shit, you're so wet love. So tight, gonna cum too fast."

You clenched around him hearing that, and let out another whimper. You felt it building up in you again. His pace became uneven, and you knew he was nearing his climax. 

"Please..." he begged with a strangled whine, "Cum with me, can't hold on much longer."

"Channie... so close, just a little more." You panted back.

He removed his hand from around your neck and down to your clit, rubbing quickly in little circles. That was all you needed to let go, becoming a moaning and quivering mess. Your walls were clenching around him again, as you rode out your orgasm. 

He groans, hips stuttering before he pulls out of you. Giving himself a few pumps, he let out a loud and strangled cry as he finished. He was spurting ropes of cum all over your stomach, only slowing when the last of it was dripping down his cock and onto his fingers.

It was so sensual, you grabbed his hand and sucked them into your mouth. Making sure to lick them clean, keeping eye contact with him. His lips parted and he was looking at you so affectionately. When you finally popped them out of your mouth, he immediately caressed your face.

"How are you so perfect?" He murmured. 

He bent down and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips, and you slowly moved yours with his. This kiss was different, less desperate and more so savoring the moment. You felt lost in him. Nothing else mattered right now but you and him, the rest of the world melted away. You two were in your own bubble, and you couldn't be happier. 

When he pulled away, he spoke "That was amazing, my love." 

"It was." You giggled.

"I'm sorry it was a little rushed, I was craving you so bad." He said as he rested his head in the crook of your neck, a little embarrassed. 

Your fingers brushed through his hair. He was right, it was rushed on both ends. You both were a little clumsy, figuring out each other's bodies for the first time. But that doesn't mean the sex was horrible, he made you cum twice. 

"We'll have plenty of chances to take our time with each other. I think after everything, we were both hopelessly desperate for each other, and like you said. It was amazing Channie."

"I like hearing Channie coming from you, as different as it is." 

"Mmmm, I have to think of another pet name. You claimed 'love' already." 

He just chuckled, "You can call me whatever you want, Channie, love, Jagi. I don't mind."

"I think Ji would keel over if I called you Jagi instead of him." You giggled.

"Hannie can deal with it, he's not the only man in your life that's close to you anymore." 

Chan got up to get you a towel, and cleaned you up.

You felt satisfied, laying down facing each other, and still embracing. 

"So, about the other chances you mentioned. Maybe we can try out the edging you like so much. And all it takes for me to truly dom you is flipping a switch in my head and not holding back. I'm just not sure you can handle it."

"I can handle it, I'll be your perfect little sub." You snuggle closer to him.

"Hmmm, why do I doubt that for some reason. We already know how bratty you are."

"That just means more punishments for me, which I'm sure we'll both love."

"Is that so?" He started leaning in to kiss you.

Suddenly there was banging on the door. 

"Are you two finished? I'm assuming your finished since all the noise stopped." Hanji yelled.

You looked wide eyed at Chan and he had a smug smile on his face.

"We'd like you to join us, we're playing cards against humanity tonight. Besides it's my time with my Jagi again, I'd like to be able to see you." Jiji shouted through the door. 

You both scrambled to dress yourselves. He gave you his t-shirt, and some sweats. Slipping on nearly the same outfit, you opened the door to a pouting Ji. His face slowly transformed into a smirk as he looked you up and down. 

"Better fix your sex hair babes, although I guess there’s no hiding your hickies and bruises though." He leaned in and whispered, "I didn't know you liked it that rough, his fingers are clear as day on your neck. You nympho." He poked your tummy repeatedly. 

You nudged him and rolled your eyes, "Shut up." 

Channie came up behind you, and wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a back hug. Just like that, Ji was back to pouting. 

"This means I have to share my cuddle time, ugh." He whined.

Chan just patted the top of his head, laughing, "You'll get used to it." 

"Hmph. I'm not going to stop calling her Jagi or babe or any other pet names. I was here first!" He stated.

Chan just chuckled, "I wouldn't expect you to Hannie."

He just turned around, still pouting, and headed back to the living room. You and Channie followed behind him, hand in hand. Eyes glued to each other, and smiling. 

"Oh great, we have to deal with this now, on top of you and Han overdosing us with PDA?" Seungmin complained. 

"I just knew something was up with you two, it's about time you fixed it." Innie commented. 

"Yeah, and by the sound of it. Making up went really well." Changbin jokes, then his eyes wander to your neck, "You know, for as much noise you two were making, I'd never expect you'd be choking her in there."

You blushed intensely, and Channie cleared his throat, smiling, and scratching the back of his head. The group laughed, and you and Chan took your seats. Which was him sitting in the chair as usual, and you sitting in his lap. 

"God, this is going to take getting used to." Hyunjin said with a smirk. 

"You act like you didn't partially help orchestrate this whole thing." Jiji teased. 

"What?!" Felix snapped, "And you didn't tell me?" Now he was pouting. 

"It wasn't my business to tell. Besides, I only nudged them a little bit to communicate. They both seriously lack in that area." Hyune responded. 

"Mmhm, I have to agree with that." Minho chimed in with a smug smile. 

"Alright, alright. Enough poking fun at us. All that matters is that things can go back to normal." Chan said. 

You faced him, "I still don't think this was our normal before, but it definitely can be our new normal now." 

He smiled and gave you a peck on the lips, to which the entire room started gagging, and acting disgusted. They got distracted while setting up the card game, Chan whispered something in your ear. 

"I know we've been doing things abnormally, and this might be a little fast. And we also have a lot more to talk about, but... Will you be mine?" 

You break out into a huge smile, and press your lips to his ear, "Of course Channie. I'd love nothing more than to be your girlfriend."

He turned his head to kiss you again, except this time it wasn't a peck. Your lips moved in sync for a few seconds, and everyone once again noticed. 

"Yeah, you were right Hyune. This is going to take A LOT of getting used to." Felix agreed.

"I don't think I've ever seen Chan-hyung like this before... It's a little weird." Innie chimed in.

"That's because he hasn't done anything like this before. Outright claiming someone? That's new territory for him." Minho said.

"No wonder it was so hard for him to pursue y/n." Seungmin said, "Although I really did have a feeling it was going to be Hannie that ended up with her."

Ji made a face, "Never. Our love isn't romantic, even though we both love skinship."

They were interrupted by the wet sounds of you both still making out. 

 Ji started pouting again, shouting, "Yah! Are we going to play or what? Surely you can both hold off until later, sheesh." 

You pulled away and you and Channie laughed.

"Alright, let's play!" You said excitedly. 

Maybe this was new territory for you, but you felt comfortable in it already. You were so glad that you and Channie were able to find solace in each other. Maybe you guys weren't quite in love yet, but you were elated that he returned your feelings fully.  

This is the normal that Chan was talking about, and you wouldn't dream of having it any other way.

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But again, please be gentle in your criticism

[yolli-es]

Could you possibly write fluff alphabet prompts for the lovely girl Jinx :3

Fluff Alphabet Jinx ❣️

Tags: NO spoilers for season 2 (if you haven't watched it yet), mention of violent acts, psychological problems.

My heart is broken, so I hope this helps heal yours.. Perhaps I misunderstood the request and/or points.

Affection: How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

Touch, touch, touch.

Does this all the time and expects the same from you. Jinx can never help it, she won't even try. Every time you're lost in thought, she'll take your hand and play with your fingers. Gently, lightly, and casually. You won't even notice, but she can do it for hours.

Jinx is very attached to you and never leaves you for more than an hour unless absolutely necessary.

Just let her do it.

Best friend: What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

Spontaneous. She often said something strange, and after looking at your face, she laughed awkwardly and quickly changed the subject. She came up with strange, sometimes too childish games to have fun and too dangerous to strengthen your relationship.

Like your first meeting. Don't be surprised if you bumped into her or she suddenly tried to steal something from you and then you became friends. This is Jinx.

You quickly got used to it.

Cuddles: Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

Hug, hug, hug.

Jinx has received many hugs in her life, but never one that was so meaningful and necessary to her. Vi and Silco were important to her, but you have a deeper connection with her. Every hug reminds her that she is not just existing. It gives her strength and faith in her better side.

If she could, she would do it forever. It doesn't matter how, gently or harshly, with love or joy. The main thing is that it's you.

Domestic: Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

Surprisingly, Jinx is good at cooking. But only because she is picky. Yes, Zaun is not a buffet, but she knows exactly what she wants and how she will get it. She will not let you eat something garbage.

And yet, she just doesn't see the point in cleaning. Haven't you seen her lair?

"If it's dusty, you don't need it; what's the problem, toots?"

Ending: If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

No way.

It would be the end of the world. Break up with you after everything she's been through? Forget it. She'll do anything, from murder to rebuilding her personality. Yes, Jinx will resist and say that she won't do it. But she will. She's too scared. You've done so much for her, and she lives and breathes with you.

If you leave her, she will not leave you alone. Jinx will follow you in the shadows. It is unlikely that you will ever know that she is there, unless Jinx herself wants you to know. She will definitely find a way to come back to you, and believe me, you simply will not have a choice.

In case of an unforeseen situation... she definitely won't survive without someone's support.

Fiance(e): How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

Never really thought about it. There's too much going on in her life to think about something as simple and mundane as a wedding.

But that doesn't mean she'll never think about it.

It will be like a sudden walk in Zaun when she suddenly sees a married couple and it dawns on her. Most likely, she will propose to you almost immediately after he thinks about it.

Say yes, and she will throw you the most lavish wedding. In her style, of course.

Say no, and she'll just wait before trying again. 

Gentle: How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

Jinx gives you all the tenderness that is left in her. Every time she tries to be more careful with you, especially when she tries to make it pleasant for you. Hugs, kisses, and games, in most cases, will take place in playful and caring touches.

But emotions are too much. Jinx can't control them, even though she tries. She has a hard time talking about her feelings, especially when they don't match yours. This only makes things worse and makes her feel misunderstand. So in her vulnerable moments, Jinx tries to move away from you, just to avoid scaring you and driving you both into a corner of fear and mistrust.

She's trying; give her a chance and time. You are a good influence on her.

Hugs: Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Jinx hugs you often, and yes, it's the best way to say, "I'm here, and I love you." In most cases, it will do it too tightly; it is quite strong. 

I love you: How fast do they say the L-word?

It's complicated. Even when Jinx confessed to you, she couldn't say it without stumbling and biting her lips.

It didn't get any easier with time. It's easier for her to show with actions than to say. She'll make, listen, steal, sew, cook, and anything but say? Oh... And yet, Jinx knows better than anyone how sometimes it is important to hear confirmation that you are loved. 

And she will say it, definitely.

Jealousy: How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?

It's so bad that she saw the enemy even in her sister. Just once, it was awkward, but still.

Jinx will definitely know if someone likes you. It must be her magic ability. Then she will be even closer, more aggressive, and talkative. She will lose her shyness even if you don't like it. Jinx might show you off her new gadgets with a hint of "Oh, I have no one to test this on." If the person doesn't understand... well, I think he did.

It's not you; no, she's absolutely certain of your loyalty. The problem is in this world and... in her. She's still Jinx, isn't she?

Kisses: What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

She kisses wherever and whenever she wants. Why should she choose or be shy?

Most of the time, these are innocent and quick pecks on the cheek, lips, and neck. Sometimes, you'll get a barrage of quick kisses, so attack back!

The rest of the time, Jinx does not skimp on long and intense kisses. She will always make the first "trial" kiss as if inviting you to continue and giving you the opportunity to say no. She won't object the rest of the time either, but then you will definitely not get rid of her teasing and sad face for the rest of the day.

Everything she does to you, Jinx expects to get in return.

Little ones: How are they around children?

Doesn't notice them most of the time. It's understandable; most of the children here are doomed.

And yet, if the child becomes a little closer to her than a stranger and Jinx sees the child's sincere affection, it will mean that now this is your child. It does not matter whether he has parents or some problems with anything; now this is your child, and Jinx loves him.

In most cases, she will act playfully with the child, playing out the older sister or "kind" parent. But that doesn't mean she won't eliminate any possible threat to the child. Don't underestimate her.

Morning: How are mornings spent with them?

When she wakes up before you, she lies still while you sleep. Maybe she's just thinking about something, or maybe she might be staring right at you. Maybe she's staring at you while she's thinking about something? As soon as she realizes you're about to wake up, she'll wake you up looking like she just got up and is bored.

When you wake up first, it's all up to you. Watch her, and Jinx will definitely be embarrassed about it after waking up. Wake her up, and Jinx will make a displeased face, only to relax you and attack you with a pillow from behind. Fall asleep again, and Jinx will beat you to it.

It won't be boring.

Night: How are nights spent with them?

Depends on Jinx's condition.

If she was even a little restless, the night would be the same. Jinx would wake up and unwittingly wake you. She's sorry; she didn't mean to.

If everything is fine, she sleeps like a hibernating bear. It seems as if even a nuclear explosion could not wake her up.

Open: When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

Talking about your feelings is a real problem for Jinx, let alone her past. Most likely, you already know a lot thanks to rumors in the city. Jinx will not comment on this in any way.

However, time goes by, and you have already been there more than once in the shittiest moments, opened your soul to her in the most difficult moments, and saved her in the most dangerous. The truth about her is the least she owes you.

Jinx starts slowly, from afar, and as if it's not about her at all. And then the story will get deeper and deeper, and you'll see not Jinx but Powder. After that, you'll be truly close.

Patience: How easily angered are they?

Very easy. A few careless words, and she's furious. Don't worry, Jinx won't hurt you. But she and the others may well suffer. She knows that you didn't wish her any harm, but she can't restrain herself.

Quizzes: How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

Jinx knows and remembers absolutely everything. For her, every little thing about you is important and valuable. She never knows where and why it might be useful to her, but she is sure that this is important knowledge. Secrets that she will not share.

Remember: What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

Every moment when she thinks, "I knew I was right about you."

One of those favorite moments was at the very beginning of your relationship. Some bastards were hunting her down and were damn close to catching her. When she was cornered, you showed up as their partner. You gloated and laughed, shook their hands, and even pointed a gun at Jinx. And all this in order to destroy these bastards. It was cruel, dirty, and instructive.

No more such gangs were formed.

She loves you so much.

Security: How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

You won't find a more reliable partner. Jinx will save you at any cost; she is simply unstoppable. She has no fear and no limits when it comes to safety. Zaun does not forgive mistakes.

However, Jinx has never asked and will never ask you for protection. You have saved her many times, and yet she is still convinced that you are fragile and definitely cannot cope on your own.

When it comes to a real fight, Jinx will forget about all the nonsense.

Try: How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

Jinx will pretend that all this is nonsense and that she doesn't care about such trivial things. And then she will invest herself in it as if it is the last thing she will do in her life.

Ugly: What would be some bad habits of theirs?

Blow up anything and anyone.

Vanity: How concerned are they with their looks?

She doesn't care.

Of course, she won’t let herself get to the point of becoming a lump of dirt, but she’s indifferent to anything that doesn’t concern hygiene.

Whole: Would they feel incomplete without you?

Yes, and this is actually tragic.

Jinx tends to get attached to someone and build a very strong bond with them. When you're not around, she's not complete; everything seems to fall out of her hands. Everything that was perfect before doesn't work, and things that Jinx was confident in before are called into question.

She just needs to know how you'll react to anything before making any decisions; Jinx feels empty.

Xtra: A random headcanon for them.

You will definitely get small matching tattoos on your wrists, neck, or stomach. Jinx will be in the most visible place of your bodies. 

She lets you paint her bombs and guns. It's personal to her.

Yuck: What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

Lies. In any form.

Jinx can't trust herself, so what's she supposed to do if she can't trust you? Even if it's a small thing, don't lie to her. It could become too big.

Zzz: What is a sleep habits of theirs?

Lie down on her, or Jinx will throw all her limbs at you. Don't even think about dodging or moving away; she will grab you tighter.

It helps her feel calmer.

Jinx loves you.

Thank you.

[readychilledwine]

Pieces of You pt 3

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected.

Warnings - self doubt, slight manipulation, discussion of moving forward after the death of a spouse, hurt people hurting people, HOFAS spoilers *slightly* (a lot of us had this theory to begin with and I just played with it to fit this)

A/n - It can only be uphill from here, right?.. Special thank you to @honeybeefae and @thehighladywrites for helping me think through how quickly I should let reader and Rhys move on, and for convincing me that I should continue writing this. (Ps friends - sorry I can't tag you. I evidently hit the max tag amount with my taglists.)

✨️ Pieces of You Masterlist ✨️

The 3 month milestone had changed your and Morwenna's lives forever. Rhys had finally convinced you to move into one of his homes. He was insistently whispering to you over and over that the small cabin wasn't going to work anymore, that Cassian and Azriel barely fit inside it, that once his Little Mor and sweet Nyx began to move you four would need more space.

It had been also heartbreaking, entering the home Feyre had crafted, each room so individually thought of for who it was intended to belong to. Above all else, though, it had been lonely.

It wasn't your home. It wasn't the finely crafted wooden arches your mate had assembled by hand. It wasn't the rooms you had spent hours picking colors for. It wasn't cozy. That lack of security and warmth was why you were once again up at 3am. Despite the babies now sleeping for longer chunks of time, you never did. Regardless of if it was a night Rhysand spent at your side or one he spent tucked into the room he had shared with Feyre.

You leaned your head back against the exterior of the home, looking up at the glittering sky, and it finally happened.

3 months of mourning in silence. 3 months of screaming into your pillow. 3 months of stress, of anger, of overflowing love, 3 months of feeling like a shell of the female you were, of feeling as though your body was no longer yours, it crashed into you like a tidal wave. And it swept and destroyed everything in its path.

Rhysand shot awake in bed, feeling something was off. His chest ached, begging him to get up, to move, to search. He pulled on pants, glancing at Nyx and Morwenna sleeping peacefully, but you, once again, had not come to the room. He waited for the wraith to appear, feeling her just moments after he called. “Is it y/n,” Nuala nodded to the question, moving to admire the sleeping babes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. She is mourning. That is her right.”

Rhys sighed, moving to your room without hesitation. He had hoped getting you out of that house would help. He had hoped the luxury he could offer you would have helped. He knocked on the door, listening for the broken come in that followed. “Why haven't you come to bed?” You were taken back by the question, taken back by him holding that perfectly tanned hand out. “Come to bed. Let me hold you until those sorrows melt away for the night.”

He knew you didn't feel it. That soft string that had made him scream, made him question all he knew about love and life. Part of him hoped you never did. Part of him hoped he would never have to explain to his family how it had taken him a miniscule 3 month period to fall in love with you and for a Mother given mating bond to snap. Part of him hoped he would never have to experience losing you, to add you to his list of things he would bury too deeply to properly mourn.

“I was unsure if I was wanted there.” That hand reached for yours, clasping it. He was so warm. Always so warm. You could bask in his warmth like he was the sun if given the chance. You shook the feeling mentally, though. “It is-”

“Our room,” he finished softly. “It is our room. Where our children are sleeping. Come to bed.”

Morning came much too soon for Rhysand. It had come much too soon for you as well. You took both of the babes, laughing as they spoke to each other in a language only they knew. They had begun taking more interest in each other, in toys, in the world. They were making life the greatest adventure, even if a lingering pain came from both of you seeing them smile so brightly.

It happened at the worst possible time. You were holding Nyx, forearm under his little tummy and letting “fly” as he worked so very hard to stretch his growing wings. Rhysand was watching you from the doorway, Morwenna on his hip as she looked up at him. Her thoughts were jumbled baby speak, all so happy. Nyx's were elated and fast. When you looked to the doorway, your wide smile fell as that string finished itself and settled deep into your chest.

Rhysand had never watched someone's mental walls fall as quickly as yours did. The silence in the room almost made the giggles of the two unknowing parties fade to background noise. “I was shocked too, darling. It's okay.”

Rhysand had dinner without you that night. He flew to the House of Wind with Nyx to eat with the Inner Circle. He wanted to give you time. He remembered the moment Azriel and Nesta came home, questioning their bonds after exploring those damned caves with the Quinlan girl and learning how the Cauldron had been corrupted. He knew you needed to process. He had too after all.

He took his seat trying to ignore the one that sat empty next to him. Everynight a plate was still sitting there. Even when you came, that chair sat empty, plate untouched. It was a screaming sign that the Inner Circle had not moved in. That they may never move on.

“It just makes the two mates theory make more sense,” Cassian and Amren were deep in a debate again. “If the Daglan, asteri, whatever the fuck we want to call them, did something to the Cauldron to ensure the mating bonds were taken over by it's creation for breeding purposes, then the existence of a Mother Blessed Bond must also be there.”

Amren sighed, “So which do you two have then?” Nesta stiffened at the question. “A Mother Blessed Bond is meant to be true love. It's who we are technically meant to find as a soul mate. A Cauldron made Bond is evidently strictly for breeding. Which do you two share?”

The table hushed. It was a valid question and point. “To continue,” Amren took a drink from her glass before setting it down with a gentle click. “If we come out and tell other courts about this, how many other fae will begin to question their bonds? Kallias and Vivienne? Tamlin and Briar? Helion and Saraya? Lucien and Elain? How do we even begin to prove which bond is which? Does it mean they love that mate less? Rhysand would not have loved Feyre less regardless of the bond type. He will never remarry. Never move on.”

Azriel flicked his eyes to Rhysand. He knew about the bond Rhysand shared with you. He had given Rhysand his blessing to move on and pursue. He had asked his brother to find happiness again. He watched the words land on Rhysand's features, watched his eyes dull.

“If Rhysand did find a new mate,” Azriel spoke softly. “We would all support him moving forward with the bond.”

Nesta scoffed from next to Cassian. “Imagine being that poor female. Living in the shoes of Feyre Cursebreaker. No one could compare.”

But you did, didn't you? Rhysand's grip on his thigh tightened before relaxing. You were just as special, as kind, as loving. You were beautiful. Gods knew you were absolutely beautiful. You were selfless.

“I wouldn't want to try to sit in her place. I would reject the bond,” Mor sipped her wine, leaned back with one arm across her stomach.

Cassian and Azriel both looked to where Rhysand was dead silent. “I need to take Nyx home. He's getting hungry. I'll be right back.”

When Rhysand came back to the House of Wind without his son, he had no intentions of coming back to you that night. So, he never did.

3 awkward weeks passed between you and Rhysand. 3 absolutely strange weeks of either heated kisses and touches or nothing. Not even a good morning. You sighed as you laid Morwenna and Nyx down in the nursery before taking the few strides to Rhysand's office.

He was avoiding you, and it hurt. It hurt knowing your mate, this beautiful unasked for second chance was avoiding you. He was hunched over his desk, reading over some papers and signing a few. “Are we going to talk about why you are avoiding me?”

“I am not avoiding you. I am busy.”

“Yes, busy avoiding me.” You sat across from him, feeling so cold and informal. It was as if you were nothing more than his employee. “Our children are asleep. We should talk about this while we can. I deserve to know if I did something wrong.”

He didn't even look up at you as he replied. “You didn't do anything wrong. As I said, I am busy.” This wasn't the voice of the male who coaxed you to sleep. The one who whispered his dreams to you. “You can go.”

The dismissal made the bond go taunt, and when he felt the first wave of your confusion and hurt, he locked it down more. “Rhys-”

“I think we should sleep in separate rooms again. Our relationship has crossed some lines.”

You blinked at him. Stunned and almost dead silent. “I don't understand where this is coming from?”

“It's the truth. I am your High Lord. You are my subject.” It killed him to say it. His own heart was screaming to stop, but that first brick wall now stood, waiting for the other 3 sides. “We cannot continue blurring that line.”

“You're my mate,” your broken whisper almost made him stop, but he dug in.

“Something we will need to discuss at a later date and time. Surely there will be away for us to reject the bond without causing a downfall and hurting your ability to nanny Nyx.” A second wall stood in place of you and his heart. He knew it was a low blow, and he watched your brows knit and mouth slightly open.

“Rhysand.”

“High Lord,” he corrected.

“Why are you doing this?”

“The bedroom you were in previously is fine.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I am establishing a boundary, y/n.” He watched as you began to cry, holding in his own tears as he did. “Our relationship needs to remain appropriate.”

"Do you not want me? We are blessed with this second chance, and you are just turning your back on it. Please, is it me? I know I am not the beauty she was, I know I am not as special as she was. But I'd fight to make you happy, for our children-”

"Nyx isn't yours. Stop acting like he is.”

He watched as you crumbled inside of yourself, that last wall forming around his heart by destroying yours. He didn't mean a single word, but how else was he supposed to save you? All the Mother had ever done to Rhysand was take and take.

You recovered from the blow quickly, nodding as you aggressively wiped the tears from your face. "You have the weekend to find someone else to do what I am. Wen and I are leaving.”

"You can't just take her from me.”

"Yes I can," he knew what was coming, that new bond screaming for him to stop this all. "You aren't her father. Stop acting like it.”

You wanted to slam the door as you walked away before his act fell, before he gripped his chest and warded the room to sob. Little Mor had quickly become his everything. That dark hair, that button nose, those deep blue eyes. She looked like his sister, but you didn't know that when you threatened to take her away. Hadn't known why all three winged males so quickly became attached to her.

And now he was losing her. He was losing you. He was losing everything.

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Pieces of You Taglist:

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[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Tit For Tat

Santiago Pope Garcia x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 15: Against a Wall

Summary: You and Santi sneak off.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating.

Warnings: oral sex (m!receiving), please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 460

Santi moans loudly, his head thrown back, his back pressed against the wall. His jeans are down by his thighs from where you tugged them, low and nearly at the knee. There’s the beginning hint of one of his surgery scars just peeking out at the edge of the material. 

His unbuckled belt taps rhythmically against the fly as you bob your head, sucking him as deep into your mouth as you can.

You jerk him in time with your mouth, caressing the inches you can swallow down while you lightly knead and squeeze his heavy balls. 

“Baby,” he groans, biting his lip as he bucks weakly into the heat of your mouth. “Please, I’m gonna…” He sucks in a deep breath as you moan lightly, the sound reverberating along his skin. 

He wants to hold off, wants to let you play with him as long as you wish, forever if you wanted. God, he would do anything you wanted. 

He knows he’s meant to be keeping vaguely quiet. The walls aren’t that thin and pretty much everyone is in the garden outside, but even so, he’s getting dangerously close to too loud. But he just can’t help himself, can’t gather together enough brain cells that haven't been overloaded by the feeling of your lips and tongue along his cock to care. 

His balls tighten, drawing up as his length pulses and grows impossibly harder. 

“Gonna come…” He whines, his breath catching in his throat. 

He’s not used to this, not used to being given things so completely. Not used to being the one that’s pressed against surfaces and pampered with pleasure. 

Not used to someone not expecting anything in return. 

But, oh boy, how he was going to return it. 

He was going to get you down completely flat on your back on the floor with his head between your legs and make you come and come and come and-

He cries out softly, bucks weakly as his orgasm floods his veins and he spurts hot, thick cum into your eager mouth. 

You moan around him, swallowing eagerly as he shivers and shakes. Only pulling back as he sighs and slumps forward ever so slightly. 

You’re grinning up at him when he looks at you. 

“You trying to let everyone know you’re getting your dick sucked?” You tease and he scoffs, grinning.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, still breathing deeply. “Was I that bad?” 

You shake your head. “There’s still some plausible deniability.” 

He snorts, slowly sinking down onto the floor next to you. His heart warms when you reach out to help him. “Yeah, well, there won’t be.” 

“What?”  He grabs you, making you chuckle as he pulls you into a searing kiss. “‘Cause I’m about to make you scream.”

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[pulsarsatellite]

Clear Skies

The FINAL CHAPTER of Days of Laughs and Nights of Screams is now up to read on AO3!

You can read the last chapter here!

Chapter Snippet:

Keep reading

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 7 "The Iceberg"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧ Dreams are messages from the deep ✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum, Feyd-Rautha's big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse ❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts ❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable!Feyd, Emotional!Feyd, Possessive!Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism ❗, implied/referenced murder

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

A/N: I had to use my entire brain cell to write this one 🧠 Hope you're ready for some ✨LORE✨

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist | Relic Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

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Giedi Prime, Day 1, later

This shouldn't feel so awkward.

Two hours after her arrival, Feyd and her are still in her room, seated on the couch. The cushions are wrapped in squeaky leather and her gown is too tight at the waist. She yearns for trousers and a shirt but doesn't dare open her coffer and change into her old sleeper clothes, because should she ask Feyd to turn around? Or simply undress?

The room with its black within black interior strangely reminds her of an insect burrow, molded out of plastic.

They've had a meal delivered to them half an hour ago by female helpers (slaves) without a personality and the empty plates are stacked on the coffee table. It had been nice while they were eating, giving them both something to do with no pressure to think of topics.

What would she even ask him? So, what was it like growing up on this planet I've never heard about? What do you even do here and please tell me anything about your culture, because I have no idea?

What would he even ask her? So, what was it like on old Earth, your old home that's lost forever? What kind of horrible war was that that made you flee to space and how exactly did you end up with the Bene Gesserit and survive for 24,000 years?

It's astounding how they've spent half a year together in their dreams and loved each other, yet managed to avoid anything that might give away their identity, hiding dirty secrets from each other.

Whenever she looks at him, new heat rises to her chest and her heart hammers like crazy. It obscenely feels like meeting your long distance boyfriend in person for the first time and the person you've known so well is suddenly a familiar stranger.

Every once in a while, Feyd takes a deep breath, head twitching forwards to close the distance between them and kiss her on her sweet lips, but the longer he waits, the greater the force that holds him back. She seems different, frightened and overwhelmed and like half of her mind is someplace else when he should be the center of her attention right now.

Every once in a while, she glances at Feyd's hands longingly, imagining to just reach out and hold them, but the longer she waits, the more difficult it becomes. He seems different, reserved and anxious, like he's weighing every word and action ten times before executing it.

There is also, naturally, a bed in her room and its mere presence has been making her flustered and nervous. They've both been looking at it in secret this entire afternoon and pointedly acting like it isn't there, pretending not to think about how they've already touched and explored each other everywhere. And yet they haven't. Not really.

She takes a deep breath, striking up a conversation. "What was that creature in the corner of the audience chamber?"

"Oh. That was my uncle's pet." Feyd's tone is apologetic. "I'm sorry you had to see that. Did it scare you? It's not dangerous."

"Didn't you say you… Killed it?"

"That's a longer story, I'm afraid." A muscle in Feyd's jaw twitches with a thousand thoughts and stories untold.

"But you did kill a pet of your uncle?" Horrified, she thinks, what if we did not actually have the same dreams? What if this reality is not quite like it should be?

But Feyd calms that worry quickly. "Oh yes, I did. More than once." 

Shouldn't he have said 'more than one'? 

"That's the joy of having a genetically engineered pet," he says without a trace of joy.

"Is that what Tleilaxu-fashioned means?"

"Yes." Feyd tilts his head curiously. "Aren't you horrified at all?"

"We did have a fair bit of genetic engineering at home, though that's not exactly my field of expertise." She briefly looks over her shoulder to where her cryo pod lies. The rectangle of sun has moved a fair bit. "But I've never seen anything like that creature."

The fact that Old Earth was capable of biological engineering is astounding to Feyd, but she keeps looking so longingly at the bulky, coffin-shaped thing and he fails not to become jealous of the inanimate object.

"What's up with that thing?" Feyd finally asks, finding a bit of his bravery and scooting closer to her. Her head snaps back to him, finding him less far away than he was before and her gaze drops to his lips and the tempting curve of his cupid's bow. Her breath hitches.

"It's just…" She takes an even deeper breath, perhaps her deepest one yet. Feyd watches her mouth as she speaks. "Would you help me with something?"

"Of course," he frowns. "Anything."

She hesitates for a moment and then bravely slips her fingers into his hand. "Are you… as afraid of technology as everyone here?"

"No," Feyd declares immediately, despite not being sure if that is actually the truth. But he wants to be his woman's confidant, more than anything.

"Okay, then…" She stands and tugs on his hand. Feyd follows her obediently towards the vessel which had preserved her for 24,000 years and released her unharmed. She kneels down in front of it and so does Feyd, warily. The stiff military uniform he still wears is uncomfortable at the knees.

She prompts: "Could you please shave my hair just over the ear right here? I'd do it myself but it's a tricky spot. I can't see it properly. Just a small stripe." She indicates with her fingers over her right ear. Feyd had expected many things, but not this. She bends to her little coffer and unclasps it. "There should be a multi-tool with a blade somewhere in here- Oh!"

Feyd has whipped his kukri from the holster under his jacket, presenting it with the sharp tip pointing upwards. One pale, blue eye regards her proudly from behind the curved blade that had been polished and whetted in the morning.

"That w-works too." She offers the side of her head to him, trembling when long fingers brush tenderly over her scalp, sectioning the area she had asked him to shave. He finds the hair in that area to be shorter than the remaining hair.

Her Feyd will be careful and not cut her. She suppresses the shiver that runs down her spine and into her core, nervous like it's the first time he's touching her. Silver glints at the corner of her eye and the whirring sound of strands being cut so close to her ear is momentarily louder than her heartbeat. Severed hair pelts softly on her shoulder.

Meanwhile, she deftly twists the cuboid capsule attached to her necklace and a tiny mechanism sussurates. The capsule comes apart and reveals a slim, shiny plate.

"What's that?" Feyd murmurs, brushing the pad of his thumb softly across a tiny slit he's found beneath the millimeter of hair that's still left.

"My port."

Jittery, she brings her hand up, shooing Feyd's away so she can trace the slit. Feyd notices her undone capsule pendant and the tiny rectangle in her hand.

"And what's that?"

"My chip. I had to take it out for the cryogenic sleep." She frowns, fingering around the area some more. "The port is overgrown. We had to have it sealed to protect the electronics."

"Are you a computer?"

She bursts out laughing so brightly that Feyd can't help but grin and his cheeks do the thing that they haven't done in so long.

"Oh dear, no! Where and when I'm from, everyone had one of these. You're technically only half a human without it. I've felt so naked…" She looks at him earnestly. "Could you cut it open for me, please?"

Feyd nods slowly, lifting the blade. The invitation to cut her elicits a twitch of his groins. He hasn't felt anything like his in so long, no enticing spark, not even when he tried to touch himself... His woman trusts him, so he will trust her chip.

She flinches when the blade tip comes close. "A-Are you sure you don't want to have the multi-tool for that?"

"Yes, I'm sure." Feyd moves closer, nose only centimeters away from her head. The pointy tip of his kukri tickles her scalp. "You need to keep still."

"I know, I'm just- Agh!" She flinches again.

"I haven't even cut you yet." He tries once more.

"Ouch! I'm sorry, I can't control it." Feyd nearly cuts where he isn't supposed to cut.

"Stop jerking around, my darling!" He determinedly reaches around her head with his free hand, stabilizing her and utilizing the fact that she's momentarily dumbstruck by the nickname, finally uttered in reality. She hisses when the blade precisely penetrates her scalp, just one millimeter deep. The skin is thin and bleeds only a little. Feyd is tempted to rasp his tongue over the cut and suckle her blood off the electronics inside, but he withdraws.

"And this is… safe?"

"Yes, don't worry. Most people don't remove their chips for several years, so the port has to be cut open when they need a replacement." 

Her face is so full of elation when she lifts the chip and slots it into the port that Feyd can't help but hold his breath, excited with her. His hand slides around her back, coming to rest on the crook of her arm. He scans her for change, unsure what to expect. Perhaps the soul of a machine flickering to life in her eyes, but she remains entirely the same.

Only her face brightens like she's seen paradise.

A virtual interface flickers into existence in front of her eyes, looking at the cryo pod. The world used to be so full of these interfaces, but now she looks into an electronic void that makes her feel lonely and empty. It's just her and the pod. The only surviving  human and piece of technology from Earth.

"What, what is it?" Feyd urges, scanning her face alertly.

"I used to communicate with the world with this," she murmurs. "Now there is… Nothing. I can only communicate with my sarcophagus."

"So, it's a transmitter?"

"It's a transmitter and so much more. With a  little bit of fiddling, perhaps I could link myself up to your satellites someday. This chip used to give me access to everything. Communication, information, entertainment, data processing, calculations. It's all virtually displayed in front of my own eyes. I can read, watch films, work... It has an in-built hard-drive, so not all is lost, at least." A piece of home. 

"So, you're no computer, but that chip is?"

She weighs her words, head swaying left and right. "It is a small computer, if you will, but it has nothing on the processing power of-"

"That's heresy," Feyd hisses, moving right in front of her face. She notices the tight set of his jaws but also the glint of temptation in his eyes, scanning her like she's a sweet poison apple.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?"

"I won't. It'll be our secret. I swear it on my honor." She knows so many secrets of his, he will keep all of hers in a silver cage in his chest, twice locked. Feyd reaches for her face, softly grazing his fingertips against her jaw, but her gaze is faraway, drifting downwards diagonally.

The messages folder in the lower right corner of the interface taunts her with the promise of memories. Messages received from friends and family, the echo of her old life. Suffocating sorrow threatens to overwhelm her when she realizes this folder will never blink again with new messages and the contacts of loved ones in there are nothing but husks of the past.

"What do you see there?"

"Nothing," she replies earnestly. "Just memories."

"Look at me…" She follows the prompt of his soft voice. "What does it say when you look at me?"

"Hmm." Shyly, she focuses her attention on Feyd's face, lifting her hand and splaying her fingers across his soft cheek. Immediately, his lids drop halfway and she feels the weight of his head against her hand, relaxed. "First of all, nothing, because you don't have a chip." The tip of her index finger rubs over the smooth skin above his ear.

With the electric current of a thought skipping across neurons, she selects an application from the vast array. "But it has a tool that allows me to scan the environment. It's helpful for identifying flora and fauna."

"So, what sort of fauna am I?" Feyd mumbles, cheek still against her palm. A half-transparent box flickers to life in the virtual space above his head. 

"Human," she declares and smiles. "See, no fucking Bene Gesserit torture test required to find that out."

That causes Feyd to stir and he snatches her wrist with one hand and cups her face with the other, pulling their foreheads close. "They tested you?!"

"You know about the tests? Are they… A common thing?" Her heart pounds loudly in her chest.

"I don't know how common. But they tested me too, last week. Said I couldn't have you unless I passed the test." 

For a brief moment she catches herself wishing Feyd had plunged his daunting blade into the Bene Gesserit sister after the test. Feyd seems quite content with the vitriolic expression in her eyes, exhaling softly against her mouth, lashes half-lowered. His heart pounds quickly and he wonders if this is the right time to sleep with his woman and cover every inch of her body with himself, explore her real flesh until every square inch of her is covered with his handprints.

"Why are we sitting on the floor in front of this pod, my darling?"

"Because now that I've got my chip, I can finally get my things."

Feyd regrets that he said anything, because now she pulls away, attention diverted to the metal behemoth of a coffin. "What about your-?" He points towards the small coffer.

"Only odds and ends in there. My old cryo suit, the multi tool, couple of necessities the sisterhood gave to me. You know, a toothbrush and such," she rambles while establishing the personal area network between herself and the sarcophagus. The batteries have been holding up well for 24,000 years in space. She must have grazed the gravitational periphery of multiple suns which have fed energy into the cryo pod's solar panels. The pod was at 20% when she exited it on Wallach IX, puking and shivering after being woken. In Giedi Prime's unforgiving sun, it has already climbed up to 50% within a few hours.

The tethering is complete and the CryoSysTM system (evil tongues will say it pronounces like crisis) immediately recognizes her chip and her as the occupant of this pod and a rank 3 member of the International Spacing Cooperation of Europe, Africa, Asia, Australia, America and Luna, short ISCO.

On the virtual interface, she enters the passcode which she remembers by heart and completes the triplicate identification process by pressing her thumb on one of the four, small scanner panels.

Welcome, Astronaut M2-84.

Feyd flinches when the sarcophagus buzzes to life with a heavy, electronic sound and a segment in its lower half clicks open along what he had thought welt joints so far.

The relic reaches into cargo compartment 2 which had obediently opened upon her command. Feyd squints his eyes, frowning at the strange item she removes. A fuzzy thing with plump arms and legs which she squeezes against her chest. 

Is it delusional to think it still smells of home? But somehow it does and she can't help the tears that burn in her eyes.

"What is that?" Feyd tries to pry the thing out of her arms, but she fiercely resists.

"That's mine!" She flinches away, then adds more softly: "That's my stuffed animal."

"Oh. Ah. What can it do?"

"Nothing." She looks up with surprise and Feyd's eyes widen a smidge. "Have you never had one?"

Feyd thinks: Maybe. But he says: "This must be something we don't have anymore… nowadays."

"Hmmph." She highly doubts that. But she can imagine a childhood on this planet must be extremely different. "Well, it's mine and it's very personal to me, so please don't do anything that would damage it or I'll never forgive you."

"Okay!" Feyd reassures her quickly, taken aback. Her voice sounds so tearful all of a sudden and it puzzles him that one can be so attached to an object. It almost makes him jealous. Not directly of the stuffed animal, but of the fact that there was happiness in her old home. Happiness acquired through soft and useless things. How badly he wants that. But he doesn't even dare request a softer blanket for his room. Perhaps if she asked for him, he could have one…

Feyd will not touch the stuffed animal, even though it looks very soft. He touches his woman's back instead, sliding his arm around her so she leans against his side.

"Thank God I placed him in the high-security compartment." She looks at the fuzzy thing. "And my diary. The Bene Gesserit put my pod through its paces, but couldn't get past the outer shell." She taps the slit above her ear. 

If Feyd had such emotional objects, he'd keep them in the high-security compartment as well. Which is why the security for the palace has been doubled and the guards for this corridor alone tripled since her arrival.

"So, what would you have done if the witches had found and touched your little… friend there?" He grins, face conspiratorially close to hers, hoping to see maybe a sliver of that pretty violence again.

"That's not the problem," she shakes her head, squishing the plushie in her hands. Her heart pitter-patters from the closeness of Feyd's mouth near her cheek.

"Obviously, I don't only keep useless items in here." The look she gives him then is sly and Feyd's hairless brows shoot up. "I stopped asking for my necklace when I realized that computers are… Demonized. These pods were meant to preserve my people on our way from Earth deeper into the solar system, letting us sleep in a frozen slumber to skip the time. But each pod is also a fully equipped emergency capsule with all the necessities one might need as a stranded astronaut on a foreign world."

"Astronaut," he repeats the word uttered in a foreign language which sounds ancient to him. "How many like you were there?"

"We were twelve ships, 100 sleeping astronauts aboard each, all headed  to new worlds. Mine was the Magellan II, headed to Mars. Do your aircrafts have names?" Feyd shakes his head. "Ah, well. Traditions do change within 24,000 years I suppose."

"So, you left Earth to colonize the solar system, is that what you were trying to tell me on our last night?"

"That's right." She shivers at the memory. Her family and colleagues hadn't understood why she was crying so hard the whole morning before climbing into her sarcophagus to sleep. "I wasn't sure if I could dream in cryo sleep. The journey to Mars would have taken three years." Pleadingly, she turns to Feyd, startled by his proximity. "And how could I have told you I was leaving when you were doomed to die on earth? The program was scorned by the public, they said we're worse than terrorists."

So, she did leave him deliberately, Feyd notes almost matter-of-factly. But he isn't hurt, because her departure is the cause for his woman being here and he can convince her of his love every day for the rest of their lives, so that if the opportunity arises to leave him again, she will choose to stay with him.

A suspicious thought overcomes her. "I dreamed of you the months leading up to our departure. When did you dream of us?" He looks exactly like in the dreams, only a bit more tense around the edges. And no scar on his neck.

"The dreams stopped two years ago. And until one week ago, I had no idea if I'd ever see you again." He exhales deeply, eyes flitting across her face.

A frown spreads across her forehead. "Two years ago, the Bene Gesserit thawed me after receiving my cryo pod from the Guild. So, you've been dreaming while I was… asleep."

How odd. The timing seems to make little sense.

Feyd can see it in her eyes, how intrigued she is, already trying to understand and unravel the mysteries like back then. But Feyd has bigger concerns and looks only at her lips.

"And why are you here with me now, and not on Mars, 24000 years ago?"

"That's what I've been dying to find out."

Again, she pulls away from him before he can kiss her and Feyd silently curses himself. A muscle across his jaw tenses. It bugs him that he can't see what she can see, makes him feel excluded. Her eyes dart about, then squint as if she's reading. Feyd manages to keep quiet for a minute.

"What?" He eventually snaps, staring at her from the side.

"Well…" Her voice sounds small and disappointed. "It's what I expected. An emergency protocol released my pod after critical hull damage." 

Pensively, she kneads her own palms, staring at the virtual interface. Perhaps the others are still out there. Perhaps by some miracle they have survived the cryogenic sleep for much longer than what should be possible as well, and the folder in the corner of her interface will someday blink again.

The truth is, death has most certainly found everyone she's loved, embraced them with silent arms in their sarcophagi, cells turned to ice and withered away in the cold, endless night of the universe. A lonely and peaceful death, much more peaceful than the life that awaits her.

It was the program she was a part of that sparked the human advance into the universe. And she lives to see its terrible fruit.

"Why were you on that pod?" Feyd murmurs from the side. "What made you so special?"

Finally, she turns her head to face him again. "Because I helped build them."

"You?" A subtle frown crinkles the milky skin between his brows.

"Oh, yes. Where I'm from, women aren't just slaves. I'm a trained engineer."

And as the smart ship grew In stature, grace, and hue, In shadowy silent distance grew the Iceberg too. - The Convergence of the Twain by Thomas Hardy

A/N: Yes, hello, I'd like to have one helping of Neuralink meets Cyberpunk 2077. To everyone who's not a trained engineer, myself included: We've got this! And also: Who is the ship and who is the iceberg here? 🤭

TAG LIST:

@nostalgichoya, @forgedfromthestars, @sweetiee-o, @missbingu, @charmingballoon,

@minedofmoria, @flower-frog, @welliah, @coastalcowgirl35, @sebastianswallows

Do let me know if you'd like me to tag you for this series or for Feyd fics in general 🫶

[silly-little-soul]

Shane accepting himself as a dad

A/N – “Little” thought dump I wrote at the hairdresser today, I'll probably continue it when I find the time

I haven't played sdv in forever cause I can't find the charger of my switch I miss it

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Fandom: Stardew Valley (Shane x gn!Reader/Farmer)

Summary: Thoughts on the lead-up to Shane and Jas moving in with you

Tags: established relationship, tbh reader appears like thrice maybe, some fluff, some angst, some reverse comfort, no beta we die like my activity

Warnings: Some talks about alcoholism and mental illness cause it's Shane, a shit lot of miscommunication, brief talk of Shane and Farmer having own kids, death mention

Note: It got too long so I didn't get to the part where reader/farmer would've been more prominent so this is very focused on the dynamic between Shane, Jas and Marnie

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Thinking about how in the game when you marry Shane he doesn't take Jas with him

I wish she could live on the farm with you, but let’s actually look at that scenario and Marnie's place in it

Shane is Jas’ official caretaker, but with how his mental health and alcohol consume used to be he definitely wasn’t able to fully take care of her, I’m guessing Marnie did most of that. Like Shane DOES really care for her and did what he could, it just wasn’t enough when he got worse. Simultaneously he saw Marnie care for her the way he wished he could've and it just seemed so effortless (it wasn’t, she was just grieving differently). It made him feel like he could retreat from his parental role, have Marnie take it and stop himself from pulling Jas down with him, he didn’t want to be selfish and put her well-being at risk just to be the one playing parent.

Honestly, he was probably right in that decision, he couldn’t have fully cared for a child.

But it’s different now, he’s better now, he’s ready.

He starts spending more time with her again, no longer feeling like he’s a risk to her, no longer being so ashamed. He takes on tasks like making lunch and bringing her to bed more often.

He doesn’t even notice it until Jas, Marnie or you point it out, might write a scenario for that at some point but let’s move on for now

Anyway, he realizes he’s taken the role of a parent for her. And then you give him the mermaid pendant, and he’s so happy that everything is slowly working out.

When he comes home and tells Marnie she is quick to pull him into a tight hug, she’s so happy he’s managing to really turn his life around.

Jas is so so excited, asking when they'll move to the farm

Shane wants to have her come right with him, he's talked to you about it and you were quick to tell him you'd be happy to have her, but he realizes he should really talk to Marnie about that first.

So they kinda just redirect her question.

Later though they sit together and talk about the upcoming change of Shane's living situation.

At Shane’s declaration of wanting to take Jas right with him, Marnie is hesitant and gently suggests that might not be the best idea.

Shane believes it’s because Jas has become a daughter to her, something he actively pushed to happen by making her take all responsibility for the little girl (and for him too, actually), and he figures he doesn’t really have the right to take Jas from her after she has been the one taking care of her for so long.

Except that isn’t the reason at all. Marnie has never seen herself as Jas’ mom. She loves Jas a lot of course and she’ll surely miss her a lot once she moves, but she has never not seen Shane as the one to be Jas’ new parent.

She wants this for both Shane and Jas, but she’s just so worried. She’s seen Shane at his worst and all that has lead up to it, seen him almost get better but then fail again more often than she’d like to have.

She’s honestly more worried about Shane than Jas. What if Shane takes on too much responsibility at once? His new role as a husband, the changes that come with living on the farm, and then he'll also be fully responsible for Jas? She's worried he'll end up feeling overwhelmed and get worse again. And then if Jas sees it this time, oh gosh... (Okay, maybe it is about Jas)

Now bear with me it's about to get a little confusing

Shane doesn't know that's the reason, Marnie doesn't tell him outright to not upset him.

So when she brings up the hint of “are you sure? She can stay here some longer too” he thinks it's because of her relationship with Jas and he's just like “yeah y'know maybe that works” because he doesn't want to take Jas from her after making Marnie take care of her so long, however she thinks it's because he really does think it'd be too much at once.

So they're like “okay good talk” and go their ways and while Marnie is like “okay cool I'll help some more till he feels able to care for her fully” Shane is knocking on your door having half a breakdown like “I fucked up I'll never get to take on the role of her father”

On a side note, he went to the farm and not the saloon, and both of you have a brief moment of gratitude for the fact so let's take a second to appreciate him for that too

Alright, he has been appreciated

But yeah, I kinda hc their communication isn't great in general. It's not for lack of trying (not anymore, it used to be a factor when Shane wasn't doing well) or something causing arguments, it's more so a thing where the two talk and then think everything is fine when they in reality have talked past each other so hard.

It's usually silly, small stuff like chores or something and resolved with a quick clarification and doesn't cause issues – except this time it did.

Anyway, he's at your doorstep, kinda having a breakdown.

You let him in of course, get him some water, gently tell him to calm down and tell you what happened.

His explanation is not very coherent, consisting mainly of him repeating how he fucked up, it might very well spiral into a full on panic attack.

Shane's not usually someone to panic but this is about Jas, who is the most important thing in the world to him, not to forget the only way he knew how to cope is kind of gone.

After a while he manages to explain what's going on more clearly, how he so badly wants to care for Jas the way he should have from the start, but he can't because he made mistakes he can't fix, how Marnie has taken that role and is entirely reasonable in wanting to keep it.

Then he breaks down again.

You don't really know what to do, he's in a terrible state, and what can you say? If the situation was truly how Shane presented it (which you assumed of course) there wouldn't really be much you could do to help.

You end up calling his therapist, he's against the idea at first but caves at your pleading look.

He's put you in situations in which you had to try help him with no idea how to before, hell he's made you fear for his life with this kind of bullshit before! He doesn't want you to go through that again.

In the beginning you sit with him, help explain to his therapist what happened, let Shane lay his head on your chest while talking to her.

When after a while he is much calmer you go make his favorite dinner, waiting for him to finish the phone call.

They make an appointment for Saturday and Shane hangs up, wordlessly coming over to you and letting himself fall into your arms. You have dinner and go to bed, deciding it's better for him to stay with you tonight, and maybe also the next few day. You'll figure out how to go on about this on Saturday.

Meanwhile Marnie has no idea about all of this and tells Jas about the decision (she thinks) they made, how Shane will move to the farm but needs some time to “settle in” as she calls it, and then Jas can move there too later on.

She's bummed about not getting to come along right away but is generally okay with the idea, not much bothered.

This whole misunderstanding is only really revealed when Jas and Shane cross parts the next time. This could be several days later, or the next one which I'm gonna go with.

Unfortunately for Shane, Jas was already planned to come to the farm that day to “help” (aka pet your animals) so she shows up there in the morning and it's. A bit awkward. Not that she'd notice, though.

Inevitably the topic of Shane moving to the farm comes up. It's in bypassing, it doesn't really matter how, but it causes even more chaos.

She says something about how she'll miss him when he moves to the farm, which feels like a punch in the gut to him, cause he doesn't even know she just means in the short while till he gets her over there too.

He tries not to let it show in front of her, it's not her fault, so he tries to play over his reaction by saying something along the lines of “I'll miss you too, but you and Marnie can come visit. If the farmer and me start a family you can come over and-”

And like damn. Not the best thing he could've said in that situation.

Cause up until just know she thought she was coming after him like a month or something later!

Jas' eyes fill with tears and she has such a look of betrayal on her face Shane doesn't even finish his sentence.

“You don't want me here?”

And he's just like fuck lol

In retrospect he doesn't actually know what Marnie told Jas and how she explained the decision to her. Thinking about it she probably didn't exactly go “Hey actually Shane used to be a good for nothing alcoholic so I decided I'm your mom”

But wait, does Jas want to stay with him on the farm?

Because yeah wait!! He did not consider that and how she feels about this.

Meanwhile Jas is now also a victim of the miscommunication between Marnie and Shane (aren't we all?)

Before Shane can think of something to say she's bolting, running back home.

You - who watched the interaction happen - and Shane go after her, coming to the ranch to find Jas crying in her bed with Marnie sitting next to her and trying to coax her into explaining what happened. When she sees you she moves away from her, figuring you two must have a better idea of what's going on.

Shane takes Marnie's place and asks Jas why she's crying.

She looks up at him with a heartbreaking expression and says “You said you'll start a family, but what about me?” (not rlly like that but I suck at dialogue)

And Shane is like “Marnie is your family”

I love him but.... shut up, Shane!!

That blow was so hard both you and Marnie could feel it!

In his defense, he realizes that was dumb as fuck like immediately after.

“I mean... fuck, she's been a mom for you so long, way more than I ever was, I can't just take you away now”

And Marnie stiffens cause like that's the moment it starts dawning on her something didn't go quite right in their earlier communication. And then you notice her reaction and it starts dawning on you as well and you kinda just look at each other like “oh shit”.

Which Shane and Jas are completely unaware of.

“She's not my mom! I don't want her to by my mom”

And Jas is honestly really irritated by Shane's interpretation of their family dynamic because yeah Marnie has taken care of her a long time and she's really close to her of course but she still never saw her as something other than her aunt, just like Marnie always considered Jas her niece.

“Why don't you want to be my dad?”

It's sort of a breaking point for all four of you.

For Shane it feels like in a matter of seconds he's reliving every moment since the day Jas' parents died. They chose him as the one who'd take in Jas if something happened to them. They could've decided on Marnie, but they didn't. In that moment he realizes that maybe his fear of this parental role he really did want to take not being rightfully his was never about Marnie to begin with.

At the same time, Marnie and you decide to finally intervene. She gently pulls him towards the door, telling him they have to talk, meanwhile you sit with Jas to comfort her.

You let her climb into your lap and hug her, just holding her and waiting for Marnie and Shane to finish talking, until she speaks up again quietly

“Do you not want me on the farm?”

And you're of course immediately telling her you do!! You want her there, you consider her family and she goes “I think Shane doesn't” and like no he does!! He's just stupid!

Except you don't say that to her of course cause don't say that to her.

Meanwhile Marnie is torn between hugging Shane because man he's apparently spent years thinking he has no place as her parent and scolding him cause how the fuck did he spend years thinking he has no place as her parent.

It ends up being the scolding (gently though, she does get where he was coming from).

She explains everything to him, from exactly how she feels about Jas to what she meant when she suggested to have Jas stay with her.

“You're her father now. Her parents chose for you to be and she did too. You're her dad, and nothing you or I do can change that”

And it's wild because he realizes he has always refused those titles. He always talked about his parental role or his role as a father, yeah, but he's never dared call himself her dad. But he is, isn't he?

They have a long talk and Shane learns his place in the family was never a question, while Marnie has her anxiety over Shane taking on too much at once calmed.

They settle on Jas staying at the ranch on weekdays and the farm on weekends for the first month, so he can settle and you can get used to having a child around all the time. After that she'll move to the farm entirely, with the promise to have her stay at Marnie's a bit if Shane ever feels like it's too much for him.

He goes back to Jas' room to explain everything to her and tell her she'll of course come along to his new life.

And when he opens then door he sees you sit with Jas – with his daughter - in your arms, petting her hair comfortingly and he's like yeah.

That's his family.

[2demondogs]

With Chrismas around the corner (not really but basically), i would love an Arthur x GN!reader where Arthur proposes to reader for Chrismas and they obviously say yes because, well, it's Arthur, who wouldn't?

Anon did you read my mind. I was just thinking about proposal fics when you sent this ask because I have yet to stumble on one somehow... I'm sorry this took forever btw T-T

Shoutout to my platonic boyfriend for helping me with ideas because I got writer's block <3

Words: 3k oh my good lord Tags: canon divergence (it's just people leaving the gang a chapter early), Arthur does not have tuberculosis, INSTANT spoilers for character death, cheesy shit

It's been too long, you're realizing, since holidays like Christmas felt like special things. There is a double-edged feel to this one — it is the first since Hosea's death, since leaving the gang — but it is the first, in a very long time, that you've spent in the so-called right way: in a warm house with four solid walls and someone you love, how those fanciful books Mary-Beth used to talk your ear off about always wrote.

The house is warm enough, anyways.

There's work that needs done on the cabin. Some of the wood is rotting out and chipped at the corners, forming into sharp splinters that you've brushed against one too many times, but it is a house. You haven't had this pleasure since before joining the gang.

Sometimes, with how content Arthur seems at baseline, you wonder if he's had this pleasure since early childhood. On quieter evenings, ones less reserved for happiness than this one, there has been clipped discussion about how Arthur has never had domesticity like this. Silently, it was an admission of how good it is to share this freshness with you.

During a ride into town, he'd admitted that he had never picked up painting because it was the sort of thing only steady folks got to enjoy. You'd gotten him a set of oil paints when no one was looking — he's worth much more than a few measly dollars, but that means little if you haven't got them to begin with. Some habits die hard; he was happy you remembered what he'd said only a few hours before.

Come the new year, Arthur plans to find work that will pay. New things are a luxury neither of you care much to indulge in, but the repairs will take lumber and maybe a few extra hands. Ones with more expertise, at least, because Arthur's houses usually have not had foundations.

You could simply move now that time has passed, yes. You could find somewhere much farther away, maybe even New York, and pack yourselves in alongside the other sardines bustling about a city, undetectable in uniformity. Shave beards, got jobs, change clothes, cut hair and color it, too, if paranoia strikes— but keeping low to the ground has worked itself out so far, and there is no more of that deathlike stagnation in the air of this place.

Sentimentally, you think this Christmas will seal off whatever makes this cabin yours. Shadows linger, there's been a few odd creaks that've spooked the horses, and maybe it's going to shit a lot quicker than either of you want to admit, but it's your shit-house and the shared stubbornness between you has always brought you nothing but closer to one another.

Arthur is tired of running, and so are you. Last week, he talked about writing to Mary-Beth and Simon, maybe checking if Kieran — the utterance of the man's proper name was a confirmation of the last of that stockholmlike regret having worked out of his system — had broken and followed his little girlfriend. It wasn't said with malice, just some amusement.

"Why do you think he would?" You'd asked.

"Dutch only saves people who don't ask for it," he'd said, and that wistful look in his eyes vanished before you could ask what it meant.

Maybe it's the hard work that makes it feel like a real, true holiday. Pearson and Grimshaw stopped working everyone harder in the winter over the years, once the familial glamour faded with each new addition to the gang. It was no longer a tight-knit group, but a posse, more or less, of runaways and strays all against a big, evil thing like the rest of the world, or whatever it was that Dutch grew to fear.

Since November, Arthur has been saving the best catches to be salted and stored for Christmas dinner. Each addition is cleaner skinned and cut than the last, and the newfound worst of them ended up being ate upon his return from hunting. You've both been saving back herbs since summer, dried and ready to be crumbled into the heated up pot come time for a real feast. Cornbread was made by hand for the first time since you settled down here, drizzled with honey from the general store a ways out.

The latter was Arthur's only specific request for a fancy dinner. If you hadn't gotten him a single gift save for making it, he'd still be happy as a clam.

He's been putting that goddamned honey on everything. You're glad he seems to be enjoying things again, not as tightstrung as he was before you'd made off with him. That's how it feels, anyways, after the long and struggling conversations that were had before the decision was made. Family or life? It's a hard question for someone who has such little concept of either.

Now, the grey hair in his beard is catching the light from the fireplace where he's sat himself on a chair before it. They'd sprouted through the sun-bleached blond atop his head has been looking lighter and lighter in recent months, grey finally catching up to the discoloration and giving him some malcolored sort of tabby look. It's a good one on him, as much as he complains about looking old as dirt and that it's all formed by stress.

For all the lacking color, it adds a ruddy warmth to his face. Daydreams of growing old together find you when you focus on it, or on his wheezing laugh that's gotten worse with the cold weather. Despite the woolen vest he's been sporting, his fingers are as chilled as yours whenever they've brushed. Idly, you wonder if he's gotten whatever Hosea grew into, then remember they were never by blood.

Arthur hadn't wanted you to get him any gifts. When you asked if he would get you something, he'd flushed and changed his mind, apparently already having done it.

Whatever it is, it's good-sized, wrapped in one of the dustcloths you'd gotten him alongside the paints. He's been spending more time painting, lately, tucked in the treeline and looking over the cabin or deeper into the woods, studying something plein air the way those professionals do. He'd propped it against the wall this morning, and once you've settled on the floor before the fireplace — too cold outside not to crowd close to it — after dinner, he looks between you and the cloth like he isn't sure what to do.

"D'you wanna do the honors?" He asks, and grins although the twitch of his eye tells you he's covering timidity with faux cockiness.

"You go ahead," you say, half because he's closer. Tormenting him in small ways must be part of any good gift.

The painting is an image you recognize. A photo that one of the girls took for you months before things went down the hole, using the camera Arthur was loaned by some feller in town who wanted photos taken for a book. He never returned it, and it more or less became something he tucked beneath his cot and let the elements beat around. You can't remember, now, who it was or where he went to get it developed.

The little inkling of pride you felt knowing he kept putting off getting the negatives developed — not enough money, not enough time — yet was gone the next morning to have yours developed returns, now.

It's a much nicer rendition of it, your clothes not dirty and his arm around your waist, the other holding his hat to his chest. It's clear he preferred to give your portrait more detail, his own lagging somewhere behind in clarity and looking closer to the photo. You suppose it's easier to look at someone besides himself, but there's a clearer enjoyment in the lines of you, more care taken in the color mixes.

Ignoring the dense joy of the implications of that, of how obvious it is, proves difficult. Your cheeks twinge some from the wide smile before you realize you're even reacting.

"You'll be a big name someday," you say, and he may as well shrink in on himself beneath the praise, although he's heard it plenty of times before.

"Naw," he waves a hand. "Quit that."

"Really, Arthur." Scooting closer, laying your hands over his knee. He's moving his jaw when your eyes meet his, lays a hand over one of yours, heavy and warm. "It's beautiful. I love it."

"Good," he says. His jaw clicks. "I— uh, I love you."

The hunting knife you got for him seems small, though relatively equal. Arthur looks as pleased as ever studying it, half-mumbling appraisals of yeah, nice and sharp, sturdy to himself that likely would've stayed inside his head, if it weren't for wanting to show you he liked it.

A bone handle, which he feels over with his fingers before noticing it's engraved, fits easy in his palm. You were afraid you push your luck with maintaining its quality too far adding the tiny, vague bear shape next to the deeper cut of his name. Already impressive was the fact that you hadn't ruined it with the letters, being one of your first expeditions into anything of the sort.

"I would've gotten you one of those folding knives," you explain. "But they don't hold up as well, and I know you have one."

The army knife was Hosea's.

"Needed me a new huntin' knife," Arthur says. You know, because he's complained about his current one being close to snapping with all the skinning he does anymore. He squints at the handle, turns it over in the light from the fire. "Did you engrave the handle?"

"Yessir."

He smiles. "It's real nice," he says, pats his palm with the blade softly. It makes a dull noise, sturdy metal on skin. "Why a bear?"

"They remind me of you," you admit. Really, you'd spent a long time considering what else to add, because only his name seemed so plain; although he wouldn't be opposed to flowers or vines, they are a little more intricate than a simplified bear head. "Big and strong. Hairy, too. I'd like to hug one."

He snorts a laugh, but it seems thin. His eyes are fond enough on you that it couldn't be any rejection of your words, and so you brush it off. "You wanna hug a bear?" He asks.

"In a perfect world," you amend. "Don't they look warm?"

"You'd better stick to me," he says, smooths a palm over the thigh of his jeans. The nicest pair he owns, he promised you, because he feels ridiculous in slacks and seems to think you care what he wears.

Beyond thinking everything looks well on him, at least. You often find yourself concerned with that thought.

"I got you somethin' else," Arthur starts, running a finger over the bunched inseam at his own knee. "Well, uh— it's f'both of us, really."

Isn't that intriguing, you think, but your silent, undivided attention seems to make him outright nervous, so you say: "Oh?"

Some conflict happens over his face as he pulls his vest collar away and reaches into the inner pocket, takes out a stack of thin papers that he glances over before apparently relenting to something. Confusion finds you, until he takes a deep breath and holds them towards you.

"Read these," is all he says, and he sounds like it's almost painful.

He's written much, much more than that. Your stomach turns, once or twice, realizing they are pages from his journal. Uncertain why, until the first entries which are skittering on affectionate fade into ones much more flowery. They are all about you, days you'd spent together or times you hadn't, the things you've given him over the years and the things he wished he could've given you.

Each page makes your chest feel tight with a panicked joy, as if his hands were not fiddling with the new knife to occupy — distract? — himself but clenching hard at your heart.

One, near the beginning, says he thought of pickin' a pretty lil' flower, God bless it, I feel ridiculous; on the back of the next is pressed a variegated tulip, crumbling with age but holding firm to whatever adhesive glues it to the paper. Again, that creeping smile, like thyme. Another entry is entirely about your hair, because it had brushed his arm. Only a few sentences made up that page, below the cursive a choppy sketch of your horse.

Certainly, Arthur stays busy in his head. You've always known as much, but never figured any of it was about you. Not like this, anyways, though the dates spread from the week before Blackwater and you can only wonder what laid in that journal he lost before.

"Oh, Arthur," you start, looking up from a third-way through, feeling giddy but not wanting him to watch you so intently while you finish them. No wonder he was shy. It's his heart. "You're so sweet."

"Finish readin' 'em," Arthur says, doesn't meet your eyes at first. When he does, they're gentle. "They get sweeter, y'know, better finish 'em. 'Cause of that."

He is nervous. Hardly moving, besides the tongue running over his teeth beneath his lips, and the rambling every time he opens his mouth. You don't mind, never have. He's endearing like this.

Outings you'd went on infrequently, the dates of his favorites underlined, you're noticing, based on the tone of his words in them; his worries and fears about courting you, and some of what you mean to him though, with its succinctness, you have a feeling he wouldn't dare put all of his genuine love to findable paper; things he likes about you, and one page where he admits that he cannot keep himself from documenting you in every other entry, which tells you this small collection is hardly everything. The previous entries turn over in your mind again, and you are struck on a random page for a moment as their meanings take hold, realizing they were especially sliced from his journal to show you.

The entries leading to the last are what set your mind and pulse ablaze. From the first appearance of the word marriage, you swallowed your idea of what may be coming — Arthur's breathing changing beside you doesn't help any, and it certainly does not help that he leans down once you've reached the last page, plucking it from your hands. Before he does, you notice quite a few crossed out lines, scribbles as if he were frustrated with not being able to find the right words.

"Think I've got the balls on me to read this one aloud, at the very least," he says, voice laced with a chuckle. Breath comes uneasy, but you collect yourself enough to gather the pages back into a neat, ordered stack in your lap. "Unless you'd rather spare me," he adds, nudges your knee with the toe of his shoe.

"No." Your voice sounds strange, even to you. "Do me the honors."

Arthur bites his cheek, nods and lets it fall as he smiles. Still, his hand finds the back of his neck, the page held between two fingers that remain surprisingly steady. The knife lingers in his hand beneath it, and isn't it just like him to propose holding a weapon.

Propose. It takes its first toll on you, rolls over your back in shards of tingling.

"December twenty-fifth, eighteen ninety-nine," he starts, eyes flicking to your face every other word until the intensity of your gaze must make him too anxious. "It's a nice little life, livin' with the one I love," — rubbing his mouth, sighing some — "Jesus, I always gotta be sappy." You laugh, though it comes out more forceful than you intended, and relax some until he continues. "The thought of another day where anythin' could happen 'n' we ain't bound is somethin' I hate."

Arthur pauses, stands up and places the journal entry on his chair. You take his hands when he holds them out to where you sit, grunting when he hauls you off the ground with more force than you expected, feet shuffling into place to stick all-too-close to his. His hands are burning, skin feverish when you grab his wrists, as if you'd ever want to stop him as he eases onto a knee before you.

And his eyes throw you off balance, too, catching the light just enough that you can tell they are stinging. So are your own, now that you think about it, but intelligent thoughts go out the window once you sense him about to speak.

"I wanna be 'til death do us part," Arthur confesses, fumbles to catch both of your hands in his in an awkward, squeezing hug of a hold.

The way your bones catch on one another, well— it's not a sensation you'll forget, like the first time he kissed you and you felt it still a week later, warm pressure on your mouth if you got too lost in the memory. He looks as good, looks so nice, and you know your fingers would be shaking if he weren't crowding them together, steady.

When he says your name, the blood is rushing through your ears too loud to hear it clearly; you almost want to ask him to do it again. "Will you marry me?"

Nodding, face slack before it spreads in a grin. "Yes," you say. "Of course I will."

His is hidden by how he lets go of your hands, catching them before they fall in stupid, limp joy back to your sides. He lays kisses along the knuckles, all three rows of them. It's so awfully saccharine and yet you could never tell him to quit being sweet— not now, not as he stumbles to his feet after you pull him up and shake off his hold to grab his face, tugging him into a kiss.

Arms come around your waist, squeeze tight enough to hurt, or to hold in place. Arthur runs a hand over your back, breaks the kiss to slide a hand into your hair and press your face to his chest, caging you in his arms. He smells warm, like good cologne, and you know he's been planning this.

[revalition]

OCT 8 - VOLITION

Hold yourself together. Keep your Morale up.

I had to resize this image 3 times to get tumblr to take it... it is also past midnight here, but the day change doesn't really count if I haven't gone to sleep yet, so :)

Volition. My love. my favourite skill. please enjoy. I also drew the volitions of some of my mutuals!! because I love you guys and your volitions very much (holding them gently in my hands). hopefully you guys dont mind and I didn't mess them up too badly

anyway. uhm. I'm much too tired to write anything super coherent right now. please write tags for me or write comments so I can see them when I wake up haha

and! there is a LOT under the cut. like, way more than any of the other days. it is giant. be very careful expanding it <3

ok here goes... I'm typing shorter ones out and screenshotting big ones

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VOLITION - Stop, you're only making it worse for him -- you never help with *anything*.

- Rare volition being rude to other skills!!! it only happens under pressure, too

KIM KITSURAGI - "What else could she have done? Lie? She saw there was no way to lie and get away with it."

DRAMA - You would have caught it.

VOLITION - Like hell you would have -- remember?

- you tell him volition!!

SUGGESTION - What is *wrong* with you? Why did you ask to be connected to her? Who *does* that?! Act professional now.

VOLITION - *You* told him to do that stupid thing...

- rare volition callout!!

YOU - Can I trust that guy?

VOLITION - A little. They're all still of limited use, interpreting things to the best of their ability. Maybe they add flair or something? I wouldn't know. I don't add flair.

- this is one of my favs haha. you don't need flair, love, it's ok

VOLITION - Ouch.... That's like twenty points of pride-damage right there, buddy.

- This is after Sylvie turns you down to get coffee. (and you do suffer a point of morale damage haha). him calling you buddy is so funny. it's always mildly condescending too!

- here's the other two:

VOLITION - You're no titan of Volition, buddy. He's got you in a fork. Sit down or leave.

VOLITION - You're a little more moralist now, buddy. A little more *normal*. Even if you didn't want to be.

YOU - "Cryptid extravaganza? I like the sound of that."

KIM KITSURAGI - "And I *don't*. Just one."

VOLITION - Or he'll be *disappointed* in you.

ENCYCLOPEDIA - Whooh... tough choice there.

- volition knows it's truly the most terrible thing haha

VOLITION - An enormous expenditure of willpower to build up strategic semen reserves? You had me at *willpower*. Let's do it!

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Life is all about pleasure... why deny it?!

- these two are hilarious. poor echem. but also volition, honey, nono...

- the game implies consequences when increasing your skills too high but you don't see it with all of them. Volition's one you don't really see much downside to, but you can just. Imagine it here. Him pressuring you to do something stupid, just for the sake of it being difficult. Surely that's not healthy??

- I do think Volition has a lot of issues. I'll get into some more of them later though!!

- but just... Harry wanting to do something that *is* a test of willpower and Volition is completely uninterested. But the semen retention thing is okay? sigh

- and then after that, he's just like. nope. we're not going to not swear :)

- he's so stupid sometimes. also it's absolutely hilarious to me that you can pick the "..." option over and over and Volition will match it forever. You simply cannot out-will your own willpower. It's just not possible.

- I actually live for Volition being the singular voice of reason. Look at the others all chiming in!!

- this one too, Volition being the only one trying to stop it! Why are they all piling on?? Composure not you too >:(

- I had excessively high Volition *and* Pain Threshold in my first run and the two of them!!! PT gets very self destructive at high levels, so seeing the relentless push and pull of PT and Volition was so good.

- This line from the description -> "Cool for: Sane People, Well-Adjusted Cops, The Non-Suicidal" yes it's cool for them, sure, but it's incredibly!!! important for NOT these people! Because Volition doesn't make you sane, or well-adjusted, or non-suicidal. He's just the one voice of reason in there trying to veer you away from making irreversibly bad decisions.

VOLITION - She tries to hide it, but some *great doubt* is spreading within her. There is a crown slowly cracking above her head.

- I need to talk about this line. Just. Volition acknowledging the existence of Joyce's own Volition (which he refers to as a crown!!!) cracking! the *great doubt* spreading and cracking apart the crown! hghh I live for any and every depiction of volition cracking apart when morale gets low and this is absolutely one of them.

AUTHORITY - Weren't you warned to *not* go down this path?! And yet you *still* go and do it...

VOLITION - Just because you *can* doesn't mean you *have to* say everything that comes to mind. Back out before the situation escalates.

- these two's dynamic is very funny to me. I love when they work together (but I also love when they fight! fight fight fight!)

VOLITION - Don't ask, don't look, don't do *anything* here. Just go away. Get back to work.

- "Just go away" ugh my guy is fighting for his life here to get you away from the cigarette and alcohol counter in the Frittte

- hghhk Volition. this is a Challenging passive check too (the second one, to hang up). *one* chance, that's all he has in him. It's not possible at all in the dream, no matter how high your Volition stat is. It's just not something he can do. But here, with the distance of the payphone between you and possibly real consequences, he's able to manage one chance.

- (also did anyone see the post about the payphone conversation possibly being entroponetic crosstalk?? I could talk about that for way too long. but I am getting sidetracked)

YOU - "Yeah, I'm done talking about her. I don't want to think about her anymore."

RHETORIC - What a strange choice of words...

EMPATHY - Caustic, overflowing with negativity.

VOLITION - That can't be healthy. What's happening here? Why do you keep coming back to this window?

YOU - Nothing, everything's okay.

VOLITION - But it isn't. And you shouldn't come back to this anymore. This should be the last time. Stop talking about that damn window, please.

- this one too

VOLITION - Throw it away. Please.

- I need to talk about this. Volition dutifully directs you away from all the reminders of Dora. He does everything in his power to stop the final dream from happening.

- And I get it. He's trying to protect Harry. Because Harry isn't mentally stable right now and it could endanger the case. but... at least, when the final dream happens Kim is (usually) there when you wake up. And if all went well, you get to go back to your precinct, and take Kim with you. And Harry has support.

- If the dream doesn't happen... it will happen eventually. There are a million reminders in Martinaise in the span of a week, imagine what Jamrock is like. It's an inevitability. And then you're taking the chance that the dream happens at a time when Harry is much worse off. Maybe he's alone. Maybe Kim left, maybe he was let go from the force.

- The dream could happen at a better time too, of course. we probably all imagine harry picking up the pieces after martinaise and his life finally taking a turn for the better. and I imagine this is what Volition had in mind, by delaying the dream. Maybe it can be delayed for a long time, long enough.

- but it's a huge risk and I just... don't know if he's making the right choice here. keeping important information about Harry's past, which has shaped his relationships and life considerably, in a box so it can't hurt him

- yeah. anyway...

YOU - What if I don't want to ask questions?

REACTION SPEED - You're a cop, Harry. It is *unnatural* of you not to want to ask questions.

VOLITION - You don't have to. No one is forcing you to be a cop.

- Volition??? sometimes this guy makes no sense, he's so funny. I really think he occasionally just does something for the sake of being defiant

EGG HEAD - "Please. Please?" The young man smiles at you widely, bright and innocent as the summer sun.

VOLITION - His pleaful smile is disarming, but you can withstand it's glorious assault, if you just put your heart into it.

- why? why?? don't turn down egg head ever!

VOLITION - Alright, come on now. If *he* hasn't said anything about your lack of pants, no one will. You're only hurting yourself by not wearing them...

- this one is so funny. I love that he lets you know he *knows* you're trying to get a reaction and you're not going to get one!!

- yes volition, stop himmm

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - How very astute of you! This renders it ineffectual. You should look for a *whole* cigarette. Or better yet -- an entire pack! Strike that, a CARTON! Make sure they're all healthy and able-bodied, then smoke them all.

VOLITION - Or -- you could *not* do that. No one is making you.

- volition as usual trying to stop you from picking up bad habits... I just love the way he talks. he's not even telling you not to, just voicing his disapproval in a rather passive way

INTERFACING - Wow, the gods of mass production have made this alcohol container *laughably* easy to open. A child could have done it.

VOLITION - I don't know about this...

- he still doesn't outright tell you not to drink it... :(((

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Fine. We're not worried... you'll crawl back to this bottle soon enough. We'll give you another chance. Booze *always* gives you *another* chance.

SUGGESTION - Yes, it's *merciful* that way. It's your friend. Come back to it, we're all rooting for you to.

VOLITION - Not *all* of us...

- he's the only one rooting for you to not drink it!! he can't stop you. but he is supporting you in the only way he's able.

VOLITION - No. You *can* stop. Just wade through the hell. Month after month. Year after year -- you against the nothingness. It's possible, because *time* is possible.

- He can encourage you!!

YOU - "I *will* stop drinking."

MEASUREHEAD - "THAT IS NOT POSSIBLE. THE GAME OF *SHAH-MAT* YOU PLAY AGAINST THE GUL'S TRICKS IS UNWINNABLE. THE DAYS, THE WEEKS, THE MONTHS WILL WEAR YOU OUT. THE OCCIDENTAL HAPLOGROUP IS INCAPABLE OF LONG TERM LUCID THOUGHT."

VOLITION - NO.

- volition!!! <3 that's all he needs to say.

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - This is it. I'm gonna hit the ground and burn away now. Most of the people in this yard are gonna die -- if not all. Probably you too. It's a COMPLETE DISASTER.

PAIN THRESHOLD - Get ready for a world of pain, man.

VOLITION - No. Not a disaster. Weave this into the story of you. Walk out of its *ruins*. Save those who still can be saved -- *I'm* on your side.

ESPRIT DE CORPS - And the lieutenant too. And the men behind your back, drawing their weapons... you can live. You can get out of this.

- hnngh. this one is among my favourites too. my amazing 1 int run also had 1 motorics. at this point I had failed the rhetoric check to save ruby, failed the logic check to save lizzie, and now failed the spirit bomb throw too and was about ready to cry. Volition's quiet reassurance was very important to me in that moment. EdC too, and I did save Kim.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Your hand trembles as you scratch at your cheek... oh no, that's not how a grown man shaves!

YOU - Leave it for now.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Thank god, I would have cut your throat.

VOLITION - The centipede is exaggerating -- people don't actually cut their own throats when they're shaving. At least not accidentally.

- centipede!!! it's such a funny nickname. alternatively

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Your hand trembles as you scratch at your cheek... oh no, that's not how a grown man shaves!

YOU - This isn't sharp enough. Scrape harder.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Stop, for crying out loud! You're gonna cut your own throat.

VOLITION - There's no way to salvage this.

- these guys are hilarious. why is volition even watching this mess? 'there's no way to salvage this.' ??? I'm not even sure if he's referring to you or H/E... he must be so tired.

ENDURANCE - You feel like you're about to faint and fall off the swing. Your hands get clammy and the air tastes sour to breathe.

HALF LIGHT - Oh god, Harry! Oh god, Harry, what did you do...?!

VOLITION - No! Just nope. Say no to this, Harry.

- more of this!! >:( of volition trying to just avoid anything painful. wake up man.

LOGIC - Everything is so pretty and red -- you and Leo look like brothers as you glance around with similar childlike wonder.

VOLITION - Keep it together, no need to show your wonder.

- why? :( it's not hurting anyone. legendary difficulty passive for volition, high levels of volition are sometimes questionable. I love collecting all these instances of volition making weird suggestions. it's like when people point out really weird things Kim does, that you don't really notice as weird because he does it so calmly and confidently.

VOLITION - Huh... no, Mr. Conclusion. You're always kind of limited in your analytical abilities. That's not *her* fault. But still...

- volition: you're kind of limited in your analytical abilities... meanwhile logic and viscalc and ency calling you stupid and brain damaged lol. vol is so gentle about it!!

- then again...

VOLITION - ...no? He's not going to show up? I'm sorry, your lie detection isn't working. It's not her doing, he's just totally inept. It looks like you're also an idiot. But that's not her fault.

- lol.

RHETORIC - This is good. Clear the air first -- between you two -- then move on to questions.

VOLITION - No, it's not good. It's the opposite of that. This will let her dictate the terms of your...

RHETORIC - Shush. I can't hear what she's saying.

- no. don't ever cut off or shush volition ever again

- >:(

YOU - No-no-no-no...

INLAND EMPIRE - Yes, yes, yes, yes.

VOLITION - No-no, we're not starting with that. Not now. Not this time. This thought is over.

- volitionnnn... ily. my own volition also cuts off dangerous lines of thought for me. I think he's got to be constantly vigilant, in order to be so good at it. must be exhausting :(

YOU - "Can't promise that. I might attack him again." [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant groans, but doesn't say anything.

VOLITION - That's right, you *should* do it again! It's the *last* thing he'll be expecting.

- uhm. not sure that's a good idea!!

VOLITION - You're too weak to say 'no' now. Waking up is the worst part. Maybe somewhere down the line you could decline...

- referring to declining the speed. all volition fails are very sad

VOLITION - Yes, look at yourself. What do you see?

YOU - Just a sorry stack of shit...

VOLITION - Yeah, didn't even know they stack shit *that* sorry.

- beautiful, rare volition scolding you!!!! after you disregard his advice and don't apologize to kim after the church fail. he's on your side, but he also knows he needs to tell you that this wasn't okay.

VOLITION - First the investigation, now this... how many more things do you have to fuck up?

- this one too! same scenario. this is a difficulty 16 (Godly) check...

- yes this again. it just needs to be in here. the volition panic attack. if this volition passive doesn't fire, you take no volition damage. it's completely self-inflicted :(((

PAYPHONE - The headset lands in the cradle with a clank. There it sits -- still warm from your hand. You have no idea what just happened.

(heal 2 endurance and 2 volition)

- if you hang up the phone before dora picks up!

VOLITION - He subdues the feeling. Dusts himself off and moves on. So should you. There will be other chances.

(heal 2 volition)

- if Kim misses getting a picture of the phasmid

HORRIFIC NECKTIE - The necktie is guiding you through this. It's your spirit animal, both your nemesis and friend. Suddenly a feeling of ease brushes through you -- you're fine again.

(heal 2 volition and 1 endurance)

AUTHORITY - That... was the most honourable thing anyone has ever done, Harry.

(heal all volition)

- very special incidences of healing more than 1 volition at once!! the fact that healing/damaging morale is just directly called heal/damage volition in the variable naming is. yeah. I think about it constantly. does it hurt him? I think it does. and he never says anything about it (unlike endurance!) he just bears with it quietly.

VOLITION - In honour of your shit, lieutenant-yefreitor. Which you kept *together* in the face of total, unrelenting terror. Day after day. Second by second.

INLAND EMPIRE - DETECTIVE

ESPRIT DE CORPS - ARRIVING

AUTHORITY - ON THE SCENE

- obviously this one has to be in here. funnily enough, in my second playthrough I had 2 PSY but everyone had been bumped up enough that they all fired except authority... I ended up throwing a point into authority and retrying the dialogue so it could be complete haha

VOLITION - What? I thought you had your shit together! This is nearing a complete meltdown! Stop it!

- volitionnn :( if you don't stop you have a panic attack, so I guess he's only trying to help

- this is too funny. volition honey, you absolutely do add flair too

YOU - Oh, you mean Cuno?

VOLITION - Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!

- yup, absolutely no flair. Super. Tip-top!

VOLITION - These guys are compromised. She's got them singing along to her tune. The little bleeps and bloops you trust for info -- you can't trust them anymore.

- it would be a crime to not include the bleeps and bloops in here! why does he call them that?? haha

- rare instance of volition not being able to stop the disaster!

INLAND EMPIRE - Your surroundings are undisturbed. While you slept, you were alone. Now that you're awake -- you're still alone.

HALF LIGHT - Get the fuck out of here. Fuck this place, fuck this world, fuck this life, fuck this body -- just fucking go.

SAVOIR FAIRE - The sheets are stained red. Your blood's been running again. Keep it together. Just get out of here and finish this fucking thing.

VOLITION - Harry... I know there's not much to say -- but if nothing else, just remember that you've made it this far. And it's just a bit farther now. Let's finish this.

- this is just. it's awful, if you have the final dream all alone. but at least you have volition with you

DICK MULLEN AND THE MISTAKEN IDENTITY - Dick Mullen was made to crack skulls and solve cases. It's who he is. He could no more stop being a detective than a tiger could cease to be a predator in the night.

VOLITION - You're no tiger, though, Harry. You're a man. It's your curse to have to choose.

- I like this one.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - That sugary black rum stain on the counter makes you teary-eyed with joy. It's almost touching how syrupy and sticky it is. How long have you been up already?

YOU - Not now.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - Oh *excuse me*, do you have something better to do than lust for sweet syrupy rum and lemonade? With a twist of lemon? Maybe lime? Maybe who cares, just rum?

VOLITION - Yes, you do have something better to do. Stop drooling over that stupid rum stain and go. Before it's too late.

- this is a challenging (difficulty 12) check! it's very difficult to resist the sticky rum stain I guess

YOU - Give up.

LOGIC - There we go. Your mind is a relaxed muscle. It's so nice and easy to give up, isn't it? On the downside -- you have no idea what you were supposed to do now. I could have *debriefed* you.

VOLITION - Blissful idiot -- say something. You've stood there for too long.

- blissful idiot

VOLITION - Don't be an idiot and say it. In this day and age, of all times. It won't end well.

- once again, volition pushing you away from the bi-curious thing. :( he just wants to keep you safe, but it comes at a cost.

- you can't just wrap harry in bubblewrap, volition. he'll never grow

- volition absolutely saving the day here. do NOT say it harry! authority's advice is SO hit or miss

VOLITION - It's time to leave it be. You're about to make a child cry. Are you proud of yourself?

YOU - Damn right I am! Proud as the Lion of Serber.

VOLITION - Excuse me, I'm not sure I heard that properly...

- volition ily. he has to deal with so much.

VOLITION - Should we? He's *nice*. I don't like *nice*.

- this is so funny. he's very suspicious.

VOLITION - Look at it, detective. And be ashamed. Until you make it right by *legally purchasing* that raincoat, I'll make sure you feel guilty every time you see it.

- YES YES conscience volition!!

YOU - Close the carabiner.

SLEEPING DOCKWORKER - The sleeping dockworker has little to say about your actions. He remains silent.

VOLITION - You're not 100% clear what you did here was *right*, but to hell with it...

- only sometimes!!

VOLITION - I can't restrain this one. The need to *cop* is too strong. You just need to ask it.

- why are you trying to restrain copping??? this guy, sometimes. he's so stupid (affectionate)

VOLITION - That's it. I'm calling it. Kim is beyond compromised.

- uhm. volition completely overcompensating with the compromised skills is quite funny. once drama wakes up, he does it too

VOLITION - See? It's oddly moderate. Probably compromised.

- oddly moderate now means compromised??

- this is it. this is volition's only comment on this disastrous authority fail. he makes no attempt to stop it!!

VOLITION - Being Cuno's pig has a steadying effect on your hand. Go with the flow, man...

- volition's so silly sometimes

DAMAGED LEDGER - You feel that thing in the back of your head? That little voice, that quiet scream? You already felt this was a bad idea, but especially right now it's even worse. Try as you might, you can't read it now.

VOLITION - You've got *business* to deal with first. Talk to the Union boss first, at least... I can't stop you for long, but there's just enough of an excuse now.

- Volition fighting for his life to stop you from reading the letter :,(

VOLITION - If it's possible, then by pure willpower alone. You are going to have to become... a psycholocomotor.

- that is *not* a real word but we love you anyway vol

LOGIC - Is that how it is now? We should just try all good things *twice* and then give up? By that logic...

VOLITION - Not you too...

- he's all alone out here :(

VOLITION - Someone's been a very busy boy. Good on you...

- thank you...?

VOLITION - *Very* off. Just let her go. Listen to me for once...

- for once?? :((( but if you try...

VOLITION - I can't help you. I am totally useless. Everything I've said is lies. I want the exact same bad things you want. To stand here, like a pillar of salt, saying...

- this is probably one of the saddest lines. all the skills falling apart in the dream is awful, but volition might be the worst. it's also very important that volition *does* want the exact same thing you want. He wants to drink and smoke and think of dora and die. And he chooses to resist it anyways. To be the only thing standing in your way. But it's to the point where it's all he knows. He knows that he has to resist the things he wants, and will occasionally take it too far. Keeping Harry (and himself) from things that will make them happy. In the setting of the game, Volition keeps things together and on track. But once Harry is back in his normal life, it will become very much a double edged sword I think. Luckily(?) it will self balance a bit, where if Volition prevents Harry from being happy then he'll lose morale, weakening volition, and then vol won't prevent harry as much and it'll balance out. hopefully.

VOLITION - Despair creeps into you, getting fat on your weakness. Whatever noble intentions you once had as a police officer -- it's eating them all up now.

VOLITION - Nothing you can say would make you feel any better now...

- 😭 I hate this, I hate the volition death. the endurance one is really painful too, but this one's painful in a different way. Volition isn't getting back up from this. the awful newspaper clipping saying you go to live under a bridge... that's what happens when you let volition die?? if any of the other skills (except endurance) drop to 0 you can just raise them back up, but vollll.... ugh.

VOLITION - Listen... It's okay to take a few minutes to yourself. Sit down and have a breather.

ENDURANCE - You need to rest. Your body is aching. Getting in here has taken something out of you. Have a seat.

- our two health pool boys encouraging you to take care of yourself <3

YOU - "Kim, can *you* see it?!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "I can see it."

VOLITION - Four simple words -- thank god. If he can see, then you're not insane.

- this one is obviously very important.

YOU - "I've finally gone insane..." (Put your head in your hands.)

[...]

VOLITION - My god... maybe you *are*.

- if Kim and Cuno aren't there, and your Volition is really low, you get this very sad fail. :(

VOLITION - True, you ought not love ruins and hell -- and the fading scent of apricots.

- I like this one.

WASHERWOMAN - "I *can* wash it for you," she says after looking the jacket over, "but it's going to take about a half an hour. Think you can stay put for that long?"

VOLITION - Hell yeah!

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - No, we must run around ceaselessly. It would be torture to stay put.

- I really really love him.

YOU - "By the way, I'm going to sing karaoke here."

GARTE, THE CAFETERIA MANAGER - "Absolutely out of the question."

VOLITION - You wait and see, cafeteria manager!

- volition will not be told no!!

VOLITION - No one can STOP you from finding the phasmid.

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT - WHAT IS HAPPENING TO YOU?!?! Are you going to CRY now, son?

VOLITION - You heard the coach! This is weakness. It cannot go on much longer, or you will LOSE.

- these guys are great. coach!

YOU - Right. Activate Denial Mode.

VOLITION - You're not really an automaton, you do know that?

- oh, thank you for the insight volition

- even your most willful, imaginative skills know this scope creep was insurmountable...

DRAMA - But we *are* awake, sire! She has been forthcoming -- with sordid details women usually conceal! Most *shocking* details of the sexual kind! We are a bulwark, un-breached...

VOLITION - You've been breached, bulwark. You've been breached, like, a thousand times now!

- nooo poor drama (volition is right)

- Volition trying to reassure you after the Tribunal is very important.

- SO TRUE.

DRAMA - This may have been a *grave* mistake, sire.

VOLITION - Maybe. Maybe not. Mercy is rarely a *complete* mistake.

- I really adore this quote.

I think I'm going to leave it here. I haven't included some quotes that I put in other posts already but I might add them in later to have a comprehensive Volition post... But I've spent like 4 hours on this already so I'm giving it a rest for now :)

[olderthannetfic]

oh MAN, im genuinely at the edge of a mental breakdown whenever the femslash numbers discourse resurfaces, like at this point it just elevates my blood pressure, i dig my nails into my thigh, and i go to one of my trusty fandom friends to complain about other people's complaints. i ship pretty much across the board without preference for gender combo, altho by virtue of my favourite character archetype niches being occupied by men, i end up with comparatively mostly m/m and m/f with only the occasional f/f. almost all of these end up being rarepairs with at least one supporting or minor character that are eclipsed by whatever juggernaut ship the fandom prefers but never compels me. im used to looking into a ship tag and come up with less than 100 works, most of the times it's less than 50. does this annoy me on the odd occasion, be it because i think X/Y is so much more cooler than uh, A/B that the fandom is obsessed with? sure, but i see no reason to rain on people's parade - i just mute tags and mentions and seethe in silence or private DMs. i write for my unpopular rarepairs, i reblog stuff posted in tags and cheer in my own tags, i chat with people who are also into it, and get overjoyed whenever there's a new fic in the AO3 tag (or elsewhere) that I can read. to me, the femslash situation feels very similar - you like the ship between two blorbos, there's enough fan made stuff for them to fit in the shell of a hazelnut, and 80% of the fandom will swoon over the two people who you personally couldn't give two fucks about even if someone paid you. and shoutout to the people who DO make the fan stuff, the art, the fic, the meta, the discord servers, who request and put up prompts in fic exchanges to inspire others... but by god, if the whiners aren't the ones who dominate the conversation, which i wouldn't mind as much if they'd do ANYTHING besides whine. no, they will scream and shout about how the "yaoi empire" needs to be taken down (how about you just move to FFN? Wattpad?), but then it's either obnoxious nitpicky fucks who haven't posted a single fic in their entire miserable life, or it's m/m shippers who are Not Like The Other Fujoshis and got, uh, i dont fuckin know, 30 works for hockey RPF and 10 for two guys from The Terror who canonically interacted like two times under their belt while they mostly blog about the guys from Interview with the Vampire. they want God, everyone's mother and all the slash shippers on Hedy Lamarr's world wide web to prioritise femslash but don't practise as they fucking preach, tear the work of the people who DO indulgently write about gay women, and think they're oppressed because no one will write exactly what they want. the code for AO3 is for free - unionise along with your fellow femslash enthusiasts, beat the drums really loud, open those google docs, and get some shit started! granted, you're unpleasant cunts and will probably go "actually, no boys allowed in here! get your boy cooties away from this forever!!!! if you like men fucking, go back to ao3!" which will inevitably drive people who like f/f as well as m/m away, so you might be doomed to fail but in the words of that adorable little kitten poster: hang in there!

--

[causenessus]

love notes

part 0.12. SUPPORT SMALL BUSINESSES DAY

"trace me onto you."

from title fight, left in saitozaki, fukuoka

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

INKED AND MY BISQUE BEAU REFERENCES!!! DEFINITELY PLEASE GO CHECK OUT THESE FICS THEY ARE AMAZING <3 (thank u to @eggyrocks and @wyrcan <33)

AND THANK U AGAIN TO EGGY FOR THEIR AWESOME PLAYLIST <33 LET'S GO TITLE FIGHT

atsumu acted so offended when y/n immediately tagged him saying kiyoko was off limits but he was definitely thinking about asking for her phone number...but that's bc he's an idiot

when suna saw y/n's tweets about buying her coffee he texted osamu like "hey what if u dropped off coffee for y/n and ur girlfriend. i'll pay"

osamu is trying his hardest to maintain that they are NOT dating (yet) but he's secretly getting giddy everytime someone calls mbb y/n his girlfriend (SORRY LMAOOO FOR ANYONE WHO HASN'T READ MBB THIS IS PROBABLY CONFUSING THAT JUST MEANS U SHOULD GO READ IT!!!)

he also (pretending to complain about it) agreed to drop off coffee but he's a gentleman and paid for mbb y/n's coffee and suna paid for (love notes) y/n's coffee <3

double dates between the two in the future?? both pairs are so cute 👀

WAIT AND TRIPLE DATE WITH KIYOKO AND INKED Y/N??? hold on i'm cooking

suna and y/n are both fighting for their lives trying to remain casual but they are literally the FARTHEST THING from acting casual

gonna reinforce this again but literally all the art suna sends y/n is actually stuff he's put up with her in mind <3

and suna got too nervous to say anything about how he feels to y/n because the timing just didn't feel right and then she was like "oh i forget we haven't been BEST FRIENDS forever"

he was biting his fist and going thru the five stages of grief trying to interpret the deeper meanings of that text

and atsumu was not sleeping yet while suna was texting y/n (and technically he did not giggle, it was just like little huffs of laughter whenever she said something cute, yk?)

but they both shut off their phones and immediately went to bed after seeing omi's reply they were literally laying in the dark terrified they were going to hear footsteps and banging on their door

i love including my own experiences in my writing (yes i was forced to learn relative tuning before ANYTHING else in a guitar class and then my high e string broke and attacked me </3)

and!! actually the picture suna uses on his twitter (the "i miss you) is a picture i took in new york <3 if u were wondering why it looks so ugly

and an extra note to provide more context for next chapter!! this away game is the last one before winter break <3 y/n mentioned the holidays in her earthen kiln post because next chapter will be about winter break just so everything is clear <3

taglist: @0moonii @iluvmang @bluebeanbee @oyasumeii @froyaoya @gyuijns @nbcvs @milkteade @guitarstringed-scars @makkir0ll @mylahrins @cherrypieyourface @vivian-555 @sharkerino @r0seandth0rns @staileykout @lunavixia @thvvluvr @elliott0o0 @wolffmaiden @rockleeisbaeeee @toges-cough-syrup @cnnmairoll @ryeyeyer @hibernatinghamster @localgaytrainwreck @lemonocity @bows4life @sereniteav @madiexuberant @eclecticeggknightpsychic @phoenix-eclipses @sonicsolos @httpakkeiji @brkfclub @snail-squasher @starry-magicshop @cr4yolaas @kitnootkat @zzzlevislothzzz @iluv-ace @iluvaquaphor @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @applepi25 @twiishaa @girlkissersco @sleepystrwbrryy @encrypta

[moriche]

WIP WEDNESDAY

It is wednesday my guys, gals and non-binary pals! First of all, a happy new year to everyone! I actually got a bit of writing done this week - hopefully I'll be able to treat everyone to a new chapter of Fear soon enough! I haven't really edited much yet, but I think I got the core of the transition scene finally done. Tagged by @sulphuricgrin @umbracirrus @skyrim-forever @hircines-hunter

And because I love seeing what everyone is up to and I like tagging folks: @thequeenofthewinter @truth-01001001-liar @pocket-vvardvark @illumiera @dei2dei @tafferling @unknownhomosapien @kat-tail @nyarevar @changelingsandothernonsense @bougainvillea-and-saltwater @oblivions-dawn @nuwanders @scorchedcandy @saltymaplesyrup @dirty-bosmer @ladytanithia @thenotebookwizard @tonakuma

If you want to get on or off Ms. Moriche's Wild Ride, please tag me or DM me and I'll make a note and add or remove you!

And also tagged are YOU! YES! YOU!

Ever since they’d left Balmora, every exchange between Veryn and Caius had been brief, each conversation carefully crafted to be as unoffensive as possible - and after five days of hiding behind a shield of measured politeness, Veryn could not stand it any longer. Caius’ quiet gaze lingered on his shoulders every night, as the spymaster silently studied the rites Veryn performed, challenging him, inviting him to speak up. “I threw my lot in with Azura,” Veryn said, wondering if this would bring him and Caius back at each others throat. “She’s supposed to care about Nerevar. After all, she cursed us Dunmer for his death. If I have to deal with her sooner or later, it might as well be sooner if she can save me from the madness of the Sixth House.” Did she curse the Three because they betrayed Nerevar? Or because they broke their oath to her? Caius nodded, too slow and too thoughtful and too unreadable. “I presume the Urshilaku Wise Woman taught you, then. Has it done you any good, so far?” How should he take Caius’ words? Were they meant as a genuine question? Were they a backhanded insult — an interpretation fueled by Veryn’s paranoia and distrust? He looked like hell and felt like it too, worn out by travel and worry, always on the move, never quite able to catch his breath. “Dagoth Ur hasn’t visited me since I started praying to Her.” Veryn traced the edge of the flat block of slate he’d used as a makeshift altar. “But apparently, sleeping better means that my body gets to catch up on my exhaustion of the past near decade. Besides, we’ll be at Mamaea tomorrow, and the nearer we get there, the worse I sleep. There’s something wrong about that place. That bone cavern I saw - the entire cave system reminds me of a long-dead corpse.” “It might be one.” Sharn had been watching them from near the campfire, her face cast aglow by the flickering flames. “It’s what people say about Necrom, the City of the Dead over on the Mainland. Mamaea might be another remnant of Vivec’s monstrous children, lost in the ash for millennia.”

[thebearer]

no but i love your writing! ever since i watched s1 and 2 last weekend because of a youtube ad, i peaked in the carmy tag and was a surprised to see the amount of stories carmy had! would love a scenario where he’s married to a sassy, take no shit type of reader sim to natalie. his wife legit could work with him for all i care. but for whatever reason he does something w/o checking in— he prolly just forgot. she finds out and confronts him hella pissed (could be at family or during restaurant prep idc) and she says “oh, if carmen said it was cool.” not even carmy the full government name bro 😭. p much how natalie articulated it 🤣. can’t remember the ep but in early season 1 when marcus blew the fuse you can also include slick commentary from richie (and fak) if you’d like! tysm in advance 🥰. also if you don’t me me asking, do you have name/alias on this blog? what we can call you? enjoy your week

- 🥣

yes yes yes ahhhhh! he definitely needs someone who keeps him in line but walks that fine line where he can also keep them in line (bc dom!carmy is living in my heart rent free forever lol). also you can call me e if you'd like :) thank you for your sweet words! i hope you have a good week, and hope you enjoy this!

"What's this?" You ask Sydney, looking at the new box being unloaded from the truck- big and bulky in a crate, far too large to be a produce shipment.

"Uh, I think it's the new glassware for the bar." Sydney looked at her clipboard, back at you carefully.

"Glassware? What new glassware. We haven't picked that out yet." You frowned, looking at the crate carefully.

"Oh, well, it was in Carmen's notes for the day, so... I think that's the only shipment we have. Unless the hostess stand came early, which would be amazing, but you-" Sydney stopped her ramblings, seeing your soured expression. "You know what? Never mind, uh, ignore me. I'm just...Carmen's with Sugar and Richie in the back if you want to ask him."

"Thanks, Syd." You muttered, ripping the bell open with a shrill before bounding towards the back. You could hear them before you saw them, a familiar chorus of chatter and rising voices.

"Hey, so what's the delivery out front?" You ask, not bothering to wait for them to acknowledge you. If you did, you'd never talk, they all talked over each other.

"The new glasses for the bars." Sugar turned, smiling softly at you. "How are you doing?"

"Good." You muttered, eyes cutting to Carmen. "We haven't ordered new glasses yet."

"Uh, well, I thought you liked the ones from last week, angel." Carmen's eyes were bulged, clearly flustered.

"I said I liked them for basics, but I needed you to confirm a drink menu." You glared at him, arms crossing over his chest.

"You can't put the drinks in that?" Carmen asked, hand flying out towards the hall.

"Not if you want the specialty, no." You huffed. "Carmen, I told you to wait just a few days and we could get them at the wholesale market. The textured ones for the signature at least."

"Uh-oh," Richie muttered, snickering to Fak.

"Can you not use the glasses I got?" Carmen sighed.

"I can, but did you get enough? And did we decide if the signature is going in a whiskey glass or a cylinder one? Did you order double of those?" You lifted a brow, taking a step towards him. Richie and Nat watched, heads turning from you and Carmen like a tennis match.

Carmen paused, running a hand down his face. "N-No, but-"

"-So what are you going to do when we open and you run out of drinks, huh? When everyone orders the signature and it comes in different glasses? You think those travel groupie influencers won't notice? Won't post about it and make it a big fucking deal?" You countered.

"Then we'll figure it out!" Carmen huffed. "Look I gave the order to Richie, and-"

"-Hey, no fuckin' way cousin. You gave me your order." Richie held his hand up. "Sweetheart, Carmy said it was good so I just placed the order."

"Well, if Carmen said it was good, then it must be, right? He's the fucking boss." You snarl, glaring at Carmen furiously. "Seems like you've got it under control, Carm, so I'll leave it to you." You turn on your heel, furiously stomping away.

Richie and Fak wait until they hear the slam of the office door, to release their cackles. "Oooh! Cousin, you are in the fuckin' dog house now." Richie laughed, Fak's chorus of barks emphasizing his statement.

"Shut up, ok? Just shut the fuck up." Carmen growled, running a hand through his hair.

"Carmy, why wouldn't you ask her before you ordered? She's your mixologist." Nat sighed, shoulders heavy with disappointment.

"Also your girlfriend." Sydney added, poking her head in. "I told you to wait. Just saying."

"Thank you, alright, thank you all for your fuckin' helpful words." Carmen snapped. "Just... Nat, make sure they get all that shit set up right, ok? Make sure the dishwasher fucking works before we're open, please."

The office door was shut, and Carmen hesitated, reaching for the knob anxiously. He wasn't sure if he should knock- I mean, fuck, this is his office but... you were already so mad at him. Knuckles rapping on the door, he didn't wait for the invite in- knowing he'd never get one.

Carmen found you, sniffling in a furious pout in the corner, body angled away from the door. "Baby-" Carmen started with a sigh, shoulders falling gently at your upset state.

"-Don't." You snap, wiping your eyes. "Don't even start with me, Carmen." The way you say his full name sounds so bitter, too formal and full of malice to be from you.

"I-I'm sorry. I thought we agreed on it, and-and Richie was pressuring me and... And you're right. I shouldn't have made that decision without you, and I'm sorry." Carmen said slowly, waiting for your gaze to meet his, angry, wet, waterline.

"Yeah, you shouldn't have." You agreed bitterly, wiping your eyes. "I get this is your restaurant, Carmen, but don't ask for my help if you're just gonna do what you want anyways. That's-That's not nice."

"I know." Carmen nodded slowly, approaching you with the caution he would a wild animal. "I want your help. I do, and-and I like your idea that the house drink goes in the special glass. Makes it stand out."

You lifted your gaze up to his. "Yeah?" You asked, he nodded, sitting next to you. "Did you blow your budget?"

"No," Carmen shook his head, not a total lie. Fak had been able pull some strings with the new stoves, turns out he did have a guy. It left a little over five thousand left over.

"We could go to that place, if you want to. Go look and see if they have the glasses. Get a rough estimate of about how many we'd need." Carmen offered, his hand cupping your thigh gently, thumb rubbing over your leg in soothing circles.

"As long as Sydney or Nat does the numbers and not you." You snorted lightly, rolling your eyes at him.

He laughed, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I'll get Sugar to run 'em, alright? Then we can go. Call it an early night."

You beamed at the idea, letting him slide in next to you, melting into your side. "That sounds good." You hummed, letting your head fall on his shoulder.

"I-I'm real sorry I didn't as you ." Carmen muttered. "That was shitty."

"Yeah." You sighed in agreement. "I just... I want to be included in things." You asked, looking up at him sweetly. "Not everything, but-but at least the things that apply to my area."

"I know." Carmen nodded, his hand catching your cheek softly. "I'll let you handle it next time, alright? I trust your opinion."

"You don't have to do that-"

"-No, you're right, I don't. But-But I want to." Carmen nodded. "I know you're lookin' out for the best in this place just like I am."

[deafsignifcantother]

if music be the food of love chapter four

♥ here you go lovies, it’s series time | chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter five ♥ relationships: aroace Alastor x deaf female reader (queerplatonic to romance) ♥ word count: n/a ♥ pinterest board ♥ notes: i'm catholic and it tends to come through in my writing so uhh there's a scene where reader quotes a verse with the catholic bible version (ignore the fucking obvious era inconsistency idc) and alastor finishes the quote with kjv and i think i'm so sexy for that srry. ♥ no tag list rn :3

Your day with Alastor couldn't have been more distinct, and that's due to three specific reasons.

First, he took his time to wake you up. He stood in the doorway of your room, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight before him. Your usually elegant form was a sprawl of limbs and frizzy hair, the covers knotted around you in a way that suggested you had often shifted your legs while sleeping. He strode into the room, the heels of his boots clicking on the polished floorboards. There was a hint of voice in the tune of your music. He stepped closer, bending at the waist to put his ear closer. It flickered at the almost familiar sound of somebody speaking, a voice strangely soft and feminine; with a few seconds of concentration, he determined it could have been yours even though he'd only heard your voice a handful of times past your laughing. But the voice does not match your reputation's ambiance.

"Rise and shine, my dear," Alastor whispered under his breath. He puts his hands over his microphone, lifting and tapping it against the bottom wood of your bed. You stirred, rolling over with a grunt, knowing within the second that it was him.

With a chuckle and a shake of the head he admired that for a demon of your stature, you were surprisingly vulnerable when asleep. He reached out to gently shake your shoulder. "Up, up, my little overlord," he coaxed into your deaf ears, his voice taking on a teasing lilt.

You put your hand on his fingers and turn to him, eyes unfocused at first. The sleepiness on your face... well, it was a memory he would forever cherish. But as you took in his grinning face, a scowl twisted your features. Buzz off, waved him away.

"Good morning!" Alastor signed, his smile undeterred. He held up a small, leather-bound book before tossing it in front of him on the bed. "I've taken the liberty of scheduling out your day. Thought it best to get a head start."

You groaned again, hands still lazy. "A schedule? I haven't kept to one of those in centuries."

"Precisely," Alastor signed, his red eyes glinting. "You've been holed up in that dank, depressing castle of yours for far too long. It's time you rejoined the land of the living, my dear."

You definitely didn't live in a castle, but the idea made you smile. You sat up, running a hand up your tense cheeks. Alastor could see the faintest glimmer of determination in your eyes, and he squinted, knowing he could massage your jaw much better than you could. "Very well," you gestured. "But if this schedule of yours includes a single 'self-improvement' seminar, don't think I'm afraid to turn my back on the princess."

Alastor laughed, clapping his hands together. "I promise you, there is nothing quite so... tedious. Now, shall we get started? We've a busy day of... communing ahead of us."

Second, he cleared his own schedule; you were unsure whether this was common or not. One would view Alastor as the demonic presence he is on the surface, while others like you can find charm in his smile and the kind affection he offers. He still has a push-and-pull game of tug-of-war between him and those who deem themselves close to him (whether it also be the other way around).

Last night, before you returned from the roof, you spotted Alastor out on his balcony, looking out to the city the same way you were. From this angle, he looked so small. His hair covered his eyes and hid his smile, giving him a more humanistic appearance despite his still visible hellish features. What a beautiful man.

By the time you started walking back towards the stairwell, he had looked up.

And third, he made you breakfast. With Alastor, you have either gone out to eat or just had tea at yours. But here, he moved with the practiced ease of one who knew their way around a stove, another humanistic part of him. As you watched, you sat perched on a stool, a cup of steaming tea cradled in your hands with comforting warmth. He spent his time in the kitchen, summoning an apron to make you laugh, and he gave you a prideful smirk before returning to the stove. That look, his charming eyes, and the handsome shapes of his face drove you insane.

You tapped on his shoulder the second you deemed him done. "For all your flaws, Alastor, you must be lovely in the home."

Alastor flashed you a grin, his red eyes sparkling with good humor. "I find I have a bit of a knack for this cooking business."

You snorted, taking a sip of your tea. "I didn't know that."

"Ah, but you see, there is a lot you don't know, my darling," Alastor said, sliding a plate piled with food in front of you on the counter.

You raised an eyebrow, picking up your fork to study the offerings. It had been ages since you'd had a proper meal, instead subsisting on whatever stale rations you could scrounge, ingredients you could torture campers into giving you.

"Amazing," you said, impaling a piece of meat on your fork. "Do not work for the food that perishes."

His ears hit the back of his head faster than any of his snaps. His eyes glistened, roaming back and forth between your hands, frantically scavenging through his living memories for where he'd recognized that. 

When you looked back at him, he was beaming, summoning a plate with a pile of arteries that twisted together like spaghetti. He finishes, "But for that meat which endures everlasting life."

With a put-upon sigh, you shove your smile by continuing to eat. Alastor watched you intensely. It was the little things, he knew, that would truly ruin your sensitive heart.

Therefore, due to those reasons, you have been on edge. 

Alastor leans back in his plush armchair, swirling the amber liquid of his drink with a passive tilt of the glass. The hotel lobby's dim, golden glow casts long shadows across his sharp features.

"I fear the days will end soon," he signs with one hand, his palm flicking with smooth motions, each word piercing together. It sends a smooth purr shivering down your spine, you clench your own drink. He doesn't exactly address you but keeps his eye on you to see if you respond. You tilt your head to your left, otherwise unmoving.

He takes a sip of his drink, savoring the burn of the fine scotch, and then places it down. "Decades upon decades... the years start to blend together, though everything still appears to be getting worse. The angels come and go, overlords rise and fall, and I remain through it all."

His eyes flicker across the candlelight, following the flame with his chin in his palm. You cross and then uncross your legs, darting a glance at the floor, contemplating making a run for it. Alastor's full lips curl into a wry smile. He recognizes that look, straightening. Overlords rise and fall.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, sweetheart," he signs, his smile taking on a glimmer of amusement. "I suppose you've been rather... soft today. Would you like to go do something? Though, I much prefer conversation to carnage... usually, at any rate."

You meet his eyes, and when he recognizes the look on your face, his chin lifts a bit. You stare at him with stone-cold eyes like you wore years before.

"Have you been messing with me?"

"What do you mean?" If he were to have spoken verbally, his voice effect would have been missing. Your astounding boldness starts with that blunt sentence. He had only responded with what first came to mind, no matter how dishonest. 

"I know you're doing it on purpose, the…" 

Even with your fluency, you need help with words and how to describe what you mean. He's been pulling away, spending hours without touching you and giving you small instances of affection. It has only been a few days, and you're already getting whip-lash because of how offputting he has been. Maybe this is due to his absence or the decade he spent away. Or it's because he got mad you pulled away from his touch while walking to the hotel. The real reason is out of your realm of possibilities.

"The what?"

"The pulling away."

"I have not been pulling away. We've spent all day together!"

"But, I suppose I mean the… affection." Here you go, sounding like a teenage girl again.

His head tilts. He knows what you mean, but he's trying to delay such an awkward conversation. "My dear, I hope you understand that yesterday… I fed you cake for your comfortability, not mine."

"Which I'm grateful for," you lean forward, getting a bit too passionate in your signing for his liking. Your desperation for discernment is uncomfortable. You swallow. "You're doing the thing where you're acting stupid, aren't you?"

When his smile grows, you sink back. "Alastor, that's unfair."

His signing is whimsical. "You've changed so much."

Your music screeches, his ears twitch a bit at the noise. The more he spends time with you, the more he notices your differences. For your generation, you're acting like someone Velvette's age. It's despicable. 

Of course, this isn't why his lack of affection started. Because honestly, while still despicable, your new personality is a bit charming. This hyper-sensitive, docile side of you is something he never knew you could harvest, and seeing a deadly overlord turn into a soft, almost human woman again is delightful. He wishes he was the one who caused it.

.

"Why would you want to talk to me?" You signed when the two of you spoke for the first time. "Or are you going to kill me?"

Alastor put a single claw against your collarbone, somewhere above the start of your speaker, before pulling back. "Oh, but that's where you're wrong," he purred, glinting with a knowing light. "Everyone has a story, my dear. And I, you see, am a collector of stories. A connoisseur, if you will."

It was just before exiting the alley next to Carmilla's estate. He was prepared to grab your arm to stop you from leaving, so he continued before you could turn away.

"My name is Alastor, I offer Hell its very own radio show."

He held out his hand for you to shake. You focused on the rise and fall of his chest, steady breaths. If he was breathing heavily, that would be suspicious, and breathing fast would still make you weary. He was calm, and he was smiling.

With a grimace, you shook his hand but slipped your fingers away before he could even try to kiss them.

He leaned forward due to the lack of response. "Tell me, what's your name, my dear? What brings you to this place, what destined you to have this damned thing? Was it pain, desperation... or perhaps something else entirely?"

You hesitated, eyebrows furrowed. For a long moment, Alastor thought you wouldn't answer. But then, haltingly at first, but with what could only be offered as boredom, you started to sign.

That was when he knew he should keep you around. The intrigue of you was a slow creeping addiction.

Because you had purposely signed as fast as possible, sometimes using home signs and signing so lazily that you'd go to one hand. At the same time, the other would touch your speaker. You spent the time purposely making it impossible for a hearing person to understand.

His smile tightened, and his eyes darted in every direction to try to grasp any word. He could see it, the spark in you, the flicker of potential that had not yet been extinguished by the cruel hand of fate. Would offering you a premature deal be more fun than waiting a while to develop an elaborate one? Through that smile, between trying to read between your lines, he ran your future through his brain.

You and him could not have been more different in terms of power. One of you viewed souls as a thing to collect, and the other viewed them as things to pity. When you first walked the streets of Pentagram City, you spent most of your days analyzing people. You made eye contact with every person who looked your way. You'd stand on the sidewalk like a statue, your music making people grimace at you, and you'd just smile at them with those same empty eyes. It's an entirely different outlook than you have now; years of avoidance, hate, and fear would affect anybody, even monsters. Because a few decades later, Alastor changed Hell. Overlords became threats and not just leaders. 

Once that happened, people wouldn't glare but run away.

At first, it was fun, and then it became humiliating.

If you just stayed in your big home in the forest, then you'd turn into a tale, something that still kept you in power. That's where you were the happiest, eventually.