#maybe I am wrong but I think they’re neat

[dogboystmichael]

A King on His Throne

Satan from @nicosraf s Angels and Man :)

[scarletwinterxx]

drowning in the deepest of truths, I think I'm falling for you - choi seungcheol scenario

hellooo ~ so it's been a while... few things to address😅 i saw svt recently and i can confirm i cried hahah and second thing, a certain mr. seungcheol choi bias wrecked me so we're here. say thank u to him🤣

THIS ISTG TOOK ME SO LONG TO WRITE. if you've been here for a long time, i think it's obvious i love a good friends-to-lovers storyline. i wanna give myself a pat on the back for writing this😅hope you like it too!!

for my other svt fics, check them here

my x acc - niniramyeonie 😊💛

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

You’ve been friends with Seungcheol for as long as you can remember. He’s the dependable guy, the one who shows up at your door with takeout when you’re upset, drives you to late-night emergencies, and threatens to "have a word" with anyone who so much as looks at you the wrong way. He’s also the same guy who will call you at 2 AM to complain about Jeonghan stealing his food or Seungkwan roasting his playlist choices.

It’s all very platonic.

At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

But here’s the thing—platonic friends don’t always behave the way Seungcheol does with you.

Like how he always walks closest to the road when you’re together. You thought he did that for everyone until Jeonghan once teased him about being your personal bodyguard. “What, I’m just making sure she’s safe,” he’d grumbled, cheeks faintly red. You’d laughed it off, but now every time he switches sides to keep you away from traffic, your brain unhelpfully replays Jeonghan’s teasing.

Then there’s his car. His precious car. The one you’ve seen him ban people from for spilling a drink or even breathing too close to the upholstery. Yet, somehow, you’re the only one allowed to eat fries in it without getting scolded. “Because you’re neat,” he’d explained once, though you distinctly remember dropping ketchup on the seat that one time. He cleaned it up himself and still handed you another fry.

And don’t even get started on the hand thing. He always has a hand on your back—guiding you through crowds, steadying you when you wobble on uneven ground, or just casually resting it there when you’re walking side by side.

It’s warm, reassuring, and totally not something friends think about when they’re lying in bed at night.

You tried asking him about it once. “You’re very handsy, you know.”

“Would you rather I let you trip and fall?” he’d retorted with a smirk.

“Not what I meant, but okay.”

The problem is, Seungcheol seems completely unaffected by all this. He treats you like you’re just another one of his friends, albeit one he’s particularly protective of. You’ve heard him swear up and down to Jeonghan and Seungkwan that you’re just his friend. Jeonghan, of course, doesn’t believe him.

“Right, because you hold all your ‘friends’ like they’re a national treasure,” Jeonghan had said, earning himself a withering glare.

“Shut up, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol had snapped, but his ears were noticeably pink.

Then there was Seungkwan, who once asked, “Why don’t you just marry her already? Save us all the suspense.”

“We’re friends,” Seungcheol had groaned, dragging a hand down his face.

It’s honestly infuriating. Not because you want him to admit something else (okay, maybe you do, but only a little), but because it leaves you constantly second-guessing everything.

Like when he shows up to your apartment with soup because you mentioned a scratchy throat, or when he lingers outside your building after dropping you off just to make sure you’re inside safely.

Or—your personal favorite—when he softens. That big, tough guy act he puts on with everyone else melts the second he looks at you.

His voice gets gentler, his eyes crinkle when he smiles, and he’s suddenly the kind of guy who brushes hair out of your face without a second thought.

It’s maddening.

And apparently, you’re not the only one who thinks so.

“I don’t get it,” Jeonghan says one day, while you’re all sitting at a café. “Why are you two still dancing around each other? Just confess already.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “What?! There’s nothing to confess!”

“Exactly,” Seungcheol agrees, but his jaw tightens ever so slightly

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Sure. And I’m the president.”

“Jeonghan, drop it,” Seungcheol warns.

“Fine, fine.” Jeonghan smirks but doesn’t look convinced.

By the time you’re walking home together later, the conversation keeps replaying in your head. Seungcheol is quiet beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you say, bumping your shoulder against his.

He glances at you, his expression unreadable. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“...Nothing important.”

You don’t push, but as his hand finds its familiar place on your back when you cross the street, you can’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Jeonghan was onto something.

You knew it was going to be a long day when your boss handed you that stack of papers at 4 PM. By the time you finally wrapped up, the office was practically empty, the night sky spilling across the windows.

A quick glance at your phone confirmed what you already dreaded—you’d missed the last bus. Groaning, you stuffed your things into your bag, resigning yourself to the long walk home.

It wasn’t that bad. Just… cold, dark, and slightly creepy. You’d be fine.

Totally fine.

But when you pushed through the lobby doors and stepped outside, you stopped dead in your tracks.

There he was.

Choi Seungcheol, leaning casually against his car, arms crossed over his chest like he’d been waiting all night. His head tilted up as soon as he heard the door open, and when he saw you, that familiar, infuriatingly soft smile spread across his face.

“Finally,” he said, pushing off the car. “I thought you were going to sleep in there.”

Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you managed, “What… what are you doing here?”

“Picking you up,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world

“I didn’t ask you to.”

He shrugged. “Didn’t need to.”

You frowned, confused. “How did you even know I was still here?”

“Your light was on when I drove by earlier.”

“You drove by?”

He had the audacity to look sheepish. “I figured you’d miss the bus. And I didn’t want you walking home alone.”

Your heart did an annoying little flip. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Sure you can,” he said, completely unfazed. “But humor me, okay? Get in the car.”

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to argue, but the cold wind nipping at your cheeks made the decision for you. “Fine,” you muttered, walking past him to the passenger door.

“Good choice,” he said, smirking as he opened the door for you.

The car was warm, smelling faintly of his cologne, and as you settled into the seat, you couldn’t help but notice the little things—how he’d adjusted the seat warmer on your side or how there was a blanket folded neatly in the backseat.

He climbed in and started the engine, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Hungry?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You barely eat when you’re working late,” he said. “We can grab something on the way home.”

You stared at him, baffled. “Do you do this for all your friends?”

He smirked, pulling out of the parking lot. “Do what?”

“Show up unannounced, wait in the cold, and then offer to feed them.”

“Only the ones who miss the last bus.”

Your lips twitched despite yourself. “So just me, then?”

“Just you,” he admitted, glancing at you again with a small smile.

The ride home was quiet, the hum of the engine and the city lights passing by making everything feel oddly intimate. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, you turned to him, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Thanks for… this,” you said awkwardly, gesturing vaguely.

“Anytime,” he said easily.

As you reached for the door handle, he stopped you. “Hey.”

You turned back, and his expression had softened, the playful smirk replaced with something quieter, more sincere.

“Text me next time, okay? So I don’t have to guess.”

Your chest tightened, and you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Okay.”

You stepped out of the car, his eyes on you the entire time, and as you walked to your building, you couldn’t help but smile.

He wasn’t just a friend. Not to you, anyway. And maybe, just maybe, you weren’t just a friend to him either.

It was supposed to be a quiet night for Seungcheol. He’d gone out with some friends, had a couple of drinks, and was planning to head home early. But somehow, he ended up back at Jeonghan’s place with Seungkwan sitting cross-legged on the couch, both of them looking far too smug for his liking.

They were up to something. They were always up to something.

“So,” Jeonghan started, drawing out the word like he had all the time in the world, “guess who’s out on a date right now?”

Seungcheol barely glanced up from his phone. “I don’t know. Who?”

“You,” Seungkwan deadpanned, then snorted. “Kidding. It’s her.”

Seungcheol’s fingers froze mid-scroll. “What?”

“You know who,” Jeonghan said, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s on a date,” Seungkwan added, like he was explaining something to a toddler.

Seungcheol’s brain short-circuited for a second. “Wait. What?”

“Why are you so shocked?” Jeonghan leaned back, looking like the cat that got the cream. “She’s a grown woman. She deserves to have a little fun.”

“She’s—she’s on a date?” Seungcheol repeated, his voice louder this time

“Yes, and he’s so handsome,” Seungkwan said dramatically, clasping his hands together like he was narrating a fairytale. “Tall, charming, great hair—”

“Wait a minute. You set her up?” Seungcheol cut in, his voice sharp

“Of course,” Jeonghan said breezily. “You weren’t making a move, so we figured someone else should.”

“I’m not—” Seungcheol started, then stopped, his jaw clenching. “She doesn’t need you meddling in her life.”

“She seemed fine with it,” Jeonghan said, grinning. “Actually, she looked pretty excited.”

That sentence hit Seungcheol like a punch to the gut. You? Excited to go on a date with some random guy? The thought made his chest tighten in a way he didn’t want to think about.

“I don’t get why you care so much,” Seungkwan said, narrowing his eyes. “I mean, she’s just your friend, right?”

Seungcheol’s head snapped toward him, but he didn’t say anything, his jaw working furiously as he tried to come up with a response.

“Right?” Seungkwan pressed, leaning forward.

Jeonghan smirked. “You do seem awfully worked up for someone who’s ‘just a friend.’”

Seungcheol shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “She is my friend.”

“Hmm,” Jeonghan hummed, unconvinced. “Then why do you look like you’re about to track down this guy and challenge him to a duel?”

“I’m not—” Seungcheol groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m just… concerned.”

“About what?” Seungkwan asked innocently.

“About her,” Seungcheol snapped. “What if he’s some creep? What if he says something to upset her? What if—”

“Oh my God,” Jeonghan interrupted, laughing. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Seungcheol said through gritted teeth.

“Then why are you gripping the couch like it insulted your ancestors?” Seungkwan asked, gesturing to Seungcheol’s white-knuckled hands.

“I’m just protective,” he argued weakly.

“Right. Protective,” Jeonghan said, rolling his eyes. “Because that totally explains the vein popping out of your forehead right now.”

Seungcheol groaned again, sinking back into the couch. He hated how transparent he was, especially to these two.

“Look,” Jeonghan said, leaning forward, his tone suddenly serious. “If you don’t want her going on dates with other guys, then maybe you should finally admit how you feel.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t even try it,” Seungkwan cut in, holding up a hand. “We all know. She’s the only person you drop everything for. The only one you talk to with that stupid soft voice. You treat her like she’s your entire world, but you’re too stubborn to say it.”

Seungcheol opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. Because they were right. They were absolutely, infuriatingly right.

“Okay, fine,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I feel something. But what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

Jeonghan snorted. “Are you kidding me? She’s just as bad as you. She talks about you all the time, and don’t even get me started on the way she looks at you. You’re both idiots.”

Seungkwan nodded solemnly. “Big, dumb idiots.”

Seungcheol stared at them, his mind racing. Maybe it was time to stop being an idiot.

“Where’s this date happening?” he asked suddenly.

Jeonghan and Seungkwan exchanged a glance, their smirks returning.

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, feigning innocence.

Seungcheol stood, grabbing his jacket. “Because I’m about to fix this.”

“Finally,” Seungkwan muttered, shaking his head.

Jeonghan grinned. “Go get her, tiger.”

And with that, Seungcheol stormed out, determined to set things right—even if it meant crashing your date.

Meanwhile you were having a perfectly peaceful evening. The kind where the air was crisp, the stars were starting to peek out, and the banana milk you’d picked up from the convenience store was hitting just right. Strolling through your neighborhood, you took another long sip, savoring the sweetness.

And then, like something out of a drama, Seungcheol’s sleek black car zipped past you.

You blinked, nearly choking on your drink.

Was that…? No, it couldn’t be. But then the brake lights lit up, and the car slowed before making a sharp U-turn.

You stopped walking, half-expecting someone else to step out of the car. But, of course, it was Seungcheol.

He parked haphazardly by the curb and got out, looking a little disheveled, which was unusual for him. His jacket was slightly askew, and his hair looked like he’d run his hands through it one too many times.

“Hey,” he said, jogging up to you, his voice slightly breathless.

“Uh, hi?” you said, thoroughly confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he countered, crossing his arms but not quite meeting your eyes.

“I’m just walking,” you replied, holding up your banana milk as if to prove your innocence. “What about you?”

He hesitated for a second too long. “I was… driving.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Driving? Around here?”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was… in the area.”

“In the area?” you repeated, unconvinced.

“Yes,” he said firmly, but his eyes flickered to the drink in your hand, betraying his nerves.

You decided not to press him. Seungcheol acting weird wasn’t exactly new, but something about him tonight seemed different. Like he was on edge. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense, and he kept shifting from foot to foot like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

“You okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

He froze, then sighed, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“I’m just… stressed,” he admitted reluctantly.

“Work?” you guessed.

“Something like that,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze.

You frowned, feeling a pang of concern. Without thinking, you held out your banana milk to him, your fingers curling around the straw as you offered it up. “Here. This always makes me feel better.”

He blinked at you, caught completely off guard. “What?”

“Drink it,” you said, blinking up at him innocently. “It’ll help.”

He stared at you for a moment, his expression softening in that way that always made your heart skip a beat. “You’re sharing your banana milk with me?”

“Don’t make it weird,” you mumbled, cheeks warming.

A small smile tugged at his lips as he took the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours. He took a hesitant sip, his eyes never leaving yours, and for a moment, the world felt strangely quiet.

“Not bad,” he said, handing it back to you.

“See? Instant stress relief,” you said lightly, though your chest felt tight for reasons you didn’t want to examine too closely.

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze lingering on you in a way that made you feel uncharacteristically shy. Finally, he reached out, ruffling your hair like he used to do when you were younger. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

You laughed softly, brushing his hand away. “Someone’s gotta take care of you.”

His smile faltered just slightly, something unspoken passing between you before he cleared his throat and stepped back. “I’ll drive you home.”

“It’s just a short walk—”

“Let me drive you,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You didn’t fight him on it. You weren’t sure why, but Seungcheol’s strange mood tugged at something deep inside you.

As you climbed into his car and he pulled onto the road, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his stress than he was letting on. And from the way his grip on the steering wheel tightened every time he glanced at you, you had a feeling he was thinking the exact same thing.

A few days later since that night. You're still wondering why Seungcheol was acting weird but you brush it off, thinking maybe he's just stressed because of work.

Now you're somewhere unfamiliar.

You sighed in frustration, staring at the unfamiliar street signs around you.

You were definitely lost.

The errand you thought would take twenty minutes had somehow turned into an hour-long disaster. To make matters worse, your phone signal had cut out just when you’d tried to pull up directions.

After wandering aimlessly for what felt like forever, your phone finally regained some service, and you immediately dialed Jeonghan’s number. He was your go-to for emergencies like this—always on his phone and annoyingly calm in situations where you were about ready to cry.

“Hello?” Jeonghan’s familiar voice answered on the first ring

“Jeonghan!” you practically wailed. “I’m lost.”

“Lost?” he echoed, sounding more amused than concerned. “Where are you?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned, scanning the street for anything remotely familiar. “I think I took a wrong turn somewhere, and then my phone lost signal, and now I have no idea where I am.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, clearly suppressing a laugh. “Relax. Describe your surroundings.”

You rattled off a description of the nearby buildings and street signs, and Jeonghan hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, I think I know where you are. Just stay put, and I’ll send someone to get you.”

“Wait—someone? Who?”

But before he could answer, the line disconnected.

Fifteen minutes later, as you sat on a bench scrolling through your now-working phone, your screen lit up with an incoming call from Seungcheol.

You hesitated for a second before answering. “Hello?”

“What the hell?” was the first thing out of his mouth, his voice a mix of irritation and concern.

“What?” you asked, confused

“Why didn’t you call me?” he demanded

You blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re lost, right? Why didn’t you call me?”

“I—” You paused, feeling slightly guilty. “I figured you’d be busy with work. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” he repeated incredulously. “You think calling me when you’re lost is a bother?”

“I mean… kind of?” you said hesitantly. “You’re always so busy, and I didn’t want to distract you.”

There was a brief pause, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, almost hurt. “You’re never a bother, you know that, right?”

You swallowed, suddenly feeling small. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything important.”

“You’re important,” he shot back without missing a beat.

Your heart did a funny little flip at his words, but you tried to shake it off. “Jeonghan said he’d send someone to get me,” you mumbled.

“Yeah, and that someone is me,” Seungcheol said, his voice firm. “I’m on my way.”

“Oh,” was all you managed to say.

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he said, and then the line went dead.

True to his word, Seungcheol’s car pulled up exactly ten minutes later. He got out and strode toward you, his expression a mixture of exasperation and relief.

“You okay?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any signs of distress.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said sheepishly. “Sorry for making you come all the way out here.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said firmly. “Just… next time, call me first, okay? No matter what. I don’t care how busy I am.”

You nodded, feeling warmth spread through your chest at his words. “Okay. I will.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to flick your forehead gently. “Idiot,” he muttered, but there was no heat in his voice. “You scared me.”

You smiled up at him, clutching your phone tightly. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Always.”

And with that, he opened the car door for you, muttering something about making sure you had a proper map app installed while you slid into the passenger seat, feeling safer than you’d felt all day.

The car was quiet save for the low hum of the engine as Seungcheol drove. You sat in the passenger seat, sneaking glances at him every now and then. His brows were slightly furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. You could tell he was still annoyed—though more at himself than at you—but the silence was starting to get to you.

“Are you really mad?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper

He didn’t answer right away, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. You shifted in your seat, feeling a small pang of guilt.

“Cheol?” you tried again, a little louder this time

Finally, he glanced at you, just for a second, and that’s when he saw it—the faint pout on your lips, your eyes wide and filled with worry.

Whatever lingering annoyance he felt melted away instantly.

How could he ever stay mad at you?

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, swallowing the sudden lump in his throat.

In that fleeting moment, something clicked. He’d always known he cared about you, but this was different.

This was deeper.

The way his chest ached at the thought of you being lost, the way he couldn’t focus on anything else until he knew you were safe—it all made sense now.

He was in deep. Really, truly in deep.

But he kept that realization buried, locking it away for now. Because what if you didn’t feel the same? What if he ruined what you already had?

So instead of saying what was really on his mind, he shook his head and let out a small sigh. “No, I’m not mad,” he said softly, his voice losing all the sharpness from earlier.

“Really?” you asked, your pout disappearing as a hopeful smile crept onto your face.

He glanced at you again, his lips twitching into a faint smile. “Really. Just… call me next time, okay? No matter what.”

“Okay,” you said quickly, nodding.

“Good,” he said, turning his attention back to the road. But the corner of his mouth quirked up, betraying his amusement at how eager you were to ease his worries.

And as you settled back into your seat, sipping the banana milk you’d insisted on bringing with you, Seungcheol kept driving, silently grappling with the fact that you had him wrapped around your finger—and you didn’t even know it.

It’s not something you consciously think about, but Seungcheol is the first person you instinctively search for in every situation.

Whether it’s at a gathering, in a crowded room, or even during simple moments like deciding where to sit, your eyes always find him first. And it’s always easy to spot him—because, without fail, he leaves a space open beside him, like he’s silently saving it just for you.

He never says anything about it, but you’ve come to notice how it’s always you in the passenger seat of his car, you who gets the last fry from his plate, and you who he lets get away with things no one else can.

One day, after an especially long week at work, you found yourself riding home with him again. The car was quiet, save for the soft hum of the radio, and you couldn’t help but let your mind wander.

“Cheol,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?” he responded, glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the road.

“Do you think…” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Do you think I’m taking advantage of you being such a good friend?”

He frowned slightly, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “What?”

“I mean…” You trailed off, unsure how to explain yourself. “You do so much for me. I feel like I’m always leaning on you, and maybe—”

“Stop,” he interrupted, pulling the car to a gentle stop at a red light. He turned to look at you, his expression soft but serious. “You’re not taking advantage of me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he reached over, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear in that way that always made your breath catch.

“I wouldn’t do any of it if I didn’t want to,” he said firmly, his voice low and steady. Then, with a small smile, he added, “Take advantage of me all you want.”

You blinked at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, it felt like the world outside the car had faded away, leaving only the two of you in your little bubble.

There was something in the way he said it, something in his gaze that made your chest tighten. Like he wasn’t just saying you could rely on him, but something deeper—something more.

But you didn’t push it, didn’t ask him to elaborate.

Instead, you smiled softly, feeling your cheeks warm. “Thanks, Cheol.”

He nodded, turning back to the road as the light turned green, but his fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel, as if he was trying to shake off whatever had just passed between you.

And though neither of you said it out loud, his words lingered in the air between you, unspoken but clear.

Take advantage of me all you want.

It sounded an awful lot like he was saying, I’m yours.

The music was loud, the kind that vibrated through your chest and made regular conversation impossible.

You were at yet another one of Seungkwan’s chaotic gatherings, where everyone was laughing, shouting, and dancing all at once. You were trying to tell Seungcheol something, but no matter how loud you spoke, your voice barely reached him over the noise.

Finally, with a little huff of frustration, you stepped closer to him. So close that you had to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He raised an eyebrow at you, amused but curious, as if to ask, What’s up?

Without thinking, you stood on your tiptoes, your hand lightly gripping his arm for balance. Leaning in, you brought your lips close to his ear and whispered the words you’d been trying to say.

His reaction was immediate. You felt his hands gently rest on your waist, steadying you like it was second nature. His touch was warm, firm, and grounding in the chaos of the room.

“What?” he asked, turning his head slightly so his lips were near your ear now, his voice low enough that it sent a shiver down your spine.

You repeated yourself, barely able to focus with how close the two of you were. You could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the faint, familiar scent of his cologne.

When you pulled back just enough to look at him, you caught the small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he slid one of his hands down from your waist and took your hand in his.

Your breath hitched when his fingers laced with yours, his grip firm but gentle, like he wasn’t planning to let go anytime soon. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, and he gave your hand a little squeeze, as if to silently say, I hear you now.

The moment stretched between you, the noise of the room fading into the background as you stared up at him. His eyes were warm, his smile soft, and for a second, you felt like the two of you were the only ones in the room.

“Better?” he asked, his voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You nodded, your cheeks warm as you managed a small smile. “Better.”

He didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the night.

As the night wore on, you and Seungcheol gravitated toward each other like magnets. Even in the chaos of the party, you never strayed far, and he made no effort to hide how closely he kept you by his side.

At one point, you found yourself standing in front of him, tucked neatly into the protective circle of his arms. His broad frame loomed behind you, shielding your much smaller figure from the crowd. It was a natural thing, the way his arms rested lightly around your waist, his hands occasionally brushing against your sides.

You weren’t sure when you had become so glued to each other, but you didn’t mind. You felt safe there, cocooned in his warmth, the noise of the party fading into the background as you leaned into his steady presence.

Seungcheol leaned down slightly, his chin nearly brushing the top of your head as he murmured, “You okay?”

You turned your head slightly to glance back at him, your eyes meeting his. “Yeah, I’m good.”

His lips quirked into a soft smile, and he gave your waist a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure himself. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“I think I’m fine as long as I stay right here,” you replied without thinking, and you felt his chest rumble with quiet laughter behind you.

“Yeah?” he teased, his voice low and warm. “You planning to stick to me all night?”

You shrugged, your cheeks warming. “Maybe.”

His laugh softened, and you felt his arms tighten around you ever so slightly. “Good,” he said, his voice quieter this time, almost like he hadn’t meant for you to hear it.

From the other side of the room, Seungkwan and Jeonghan stood together, sipping their drinks and watching the scene unfold like it was a live drama.

Jeonghan leaned casually against the wall, a smirk dancing on his lips as his eyes flicked between you and Seungcheol. “You seeing this?” he murmured, just loud enough for Seungkwan to hear over the noise.

“Oh, I’m seeing it,” Seungkwan replied, trying his best to keep a straight face but failing miserably. His grin threatened to split his face in two as he watched Seungcheol pull you closer, his arms tightening protectively around you.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. “Should we—”

“Don’t even think about it,” Seungkwan interrupted, though he looked like he was barely holding himself back. “You saw the look he gave us earlier. He’ll kill us if we say anything.”

Just then, Seungcheol’s eyes flicked toward them, sharp and warning. It was a look that screamed, Don’t. You. Dare.

Jeonghan, of course, couldn’t resist a bit of mischief. He raised his glass in a mock toast, tilting his head slightly as if to say, Oh, we’ll see about that.

Seungcheol’s glare darkened, and he subtly mouthed, Don’t.

Seungkwan elbowed Jeonghan, barely stifling his laughter. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

“Oh, come on,” Jeonghan whispered back, smirking. “It’s too good not to say something. Look at them. She’s practically in his arms, and he’s acting like she’s the only person in the room.”

“I know, but...” Seungkwan hesitated, glancing back at Seungcheol, who had now fully turned his body to shield you from the crowd. “He’s terrifying when it comes to her.”

“Exactly,” Jeonghan said, his smirk widening. “Which makes this even more fun.”

Before either of them could act on their instincts, Seungcheol shot them another glare—this one so intense that even Jeonghan momentarily reconsidered his life choices.

Seungkwan cleared his throat, straightening up. “Yeah, nope. Not worth it. I like being alive.”

Jeonghan chuckled, but even he backed off, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. We’ll let him have his moment. For now.”

But as they watched you and Seungcheol disappear into the night, Jeonghan leaned over to Seungkwan with a glint in his eye. “We’re never letting him live this down, though.”

“Oh, absolutely not,” Seungkwan agreed, grinning. “We’re just waiting for the right moment to strike.”

And with that, the two of them shared a conspiratorial laugh, already plotting how they’d tease Seungcheol later—if they lived to tell the tale.

The quiet of the car was a stark contrast to the laughter and energy of the night. It was just the two of you now, the hum of the engine and the soft rush of air outside the windows filling the space between your thoughts.

Seungcheol’s eyes were on the road, his focus steady, but there was something different in the air tonight. It felt like the perfect moment to finally ask the question that had been lingering on your mind.

"Cheol?" you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Mhm?" he replied, glancing at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road.

You hesitated for a moment, the weight of your thoughts making your chest tighten just a little. "We're not just friends, are we?" you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

You had been wondering for a while now, but it felt like the right time to ask.

Seungcheol didn’t immediately respond. The car continued on its path, the sound of the engine filling the space. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, but there was a quiet, almost amused undertone to it.

"Whatever you want me to be, I'll be that," he said simply, his eyes still on the road, but there was something in his tone that made your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, processing his words. "What does that mean?" you asked, voice quieter now, trying to decipher his meaning.

"It means," he began, "if you want me to be more than a friend, then that’s what I’ll be. If you want me to be something else, I’ll be that too."

You felt your chest tighten, the air between you both thick with unspoken things.

The rest of the ride passed in comfortable silence, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that things had shifted, that the line between just friends and something more was now more blurred than ever before.

"Thanks for the ride," you said softly, unable to hold back a small smile.

Seungcheol smiled back, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer. "Anytime,".

The boys had decided it was time for a beach day—a full day of sun, sand, and chaos. Naturally, Seungcheol insisted you join, claiming it wouldn’t be the same without you. So here you were, walking down the sandy shore with a tote bag slung over your shoulder while the boys argued over the best spot to set up.

Jeonghan, of course, found the shadiest area and claimed it before anyone could argue, while Seungkwan bickered about who had to blow up the inflatable. Meanwhile, Seungcheol carried your beach chair and umbrella, glancing over his shoulder to make sure you were keeping up.

When everything was set up, you kicked off your sandals and ran toward the water, the cool waves splashing against your feet. The boys stayed back for a while, caught up in their own antics, until Jeonghan called out to Seungcheol.

“Hey, big guy! You’re really just going to let her wander off alone?”

Seungcheol rolled his eyes but still got up, his protective instincts kicking in almost immediately. He strolled down the beach after you, arms crossed casually over his chest, his broad shoulders drawing attention from passersby.

You were completely oblivious, laughing as you dipped your toes into the waves. That is, until a couple of guys sidled up to you, grinning and trying to make small talk.

“Hey, you here alone?” one of them asked, his tone far too confident for his own good.

“No,” you replied politely but firmly, already taking a step back.

“Come on, just a little chat—”

“Is there a problem here?”

That voice. Low, firm, and unmistakably Seungcheol’s.

The guys froze, their smiles faltering as they turned to see him standing there. His towering frame, sharp jawline, and intense gaze were enough to make them instantly reconsider their life choices.

“N-no, man, we were just—”

“Leaving,” Seungcheol finished for them, his tone leaving no room for argument.

They didn’t need to be told twice, muttering apologies as they shuffled away.

You turned to Seungcheol, your eyebrows raised. “That wasn’t necessary. I could’ve handled it.”

“I know you could’ve,” he said, his tone softening as he looked at you. “But why should you have to?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “My knight in shining board shorts.”

Seungcheol chuckled, nudging your shoulder gently. “Someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

The two of you made your way back to the group, where Jeonghan and Seungkwan were snickering.

“Cheol scared off some beach bros, didn’t he?” Jeonghan guessed, smirking.

“Didn’t even have to try,” Seungkwan added. “He just exists, and they run for their lives.”

Seungcheol ignored them, guiding you to your chair and handing you a bottle of water. “Drink up,” he said, his hand brushing against yours briefly.

You didn’t miss the way his touch lingered or the way his gaze softened when he looked at you. And while the boys continued to tease him relentlessly, he just sat back with a satisfied smirk, his protective streak in full swing.

By the end of the day, no one even thought about approaching you again—not when Seungcheol made it very clear, without saying a word, that you weren’t alone.

The sun was beginning its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The beach was quieter now, the once-loud waves now lapping gently at the shore. Seungcheol crouched down in front of you, his back turned as he gestured for you to hop on.

“Come on, before the sun sets,” he said, glancing over his shoulder with a small grin.

“Why do I have to be the one on your back?” you teased, but you didn’t hesitate to climb on, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as his hands secured your legs.

“Because I’d crush you if it were the other way around,” he shot back, standing effortlessly with you in tow.

He started walking along the shoreline, the sand soft beneath his feet. You leaned your cheek against his, your fingers lightly tapping against his chest as you spoke.

“Did you know that sea otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart?”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s called a raft. Isn’t that cute?”

“Almost as cute as you randomly spitting out facts,” he said with a chuckle, glancing sideways at you.

You ignored him, continuing your stream of trivia. “Oh! And dolphins have names for each other. Like, they have a specific whistle for every dolphin in their pod.”

“Do they have a whistle for their favorite dolphin?” he asked, his voice teasing.

“Obviously,” you said, squishing your cheek harder against his. “If I were a dolphin, you’d have a whistle just for me.”

“I already do,” he murmured, his words so soft that you almost didn’t catch them over the sound of the waves.

You paused for a moment, the warm breeze brushing past the two of you. Then, out of nowhere, you whispered, “I love you.”

Seungcheol froze mid-step, his breath hitching just enough for you to notice. Slowly, he turned his head to look at you, his cheek brushing against yours.

“I was hoping I’d say it first,” he said with a soft laugh, his dimples deepening as he smiled at you.

Your heart swelled at the sight, and you couldn’t help but grin back. “Guess you’re too slow, Cheol.”

“Guess so,” he replied, his voice warm and steady. Then, without putting you down, he turned to face the sunset.

“Say it again,” he said after a moment, his tone teasing but with a hint of something deeper beneath it.

“I love you,” you said, softer this time, your lips brushing against his ear as you spoke.

He let out a content sigh, his hands tightening slightly on your legs as if grounding himself in the moment.

“I love you too,” he finally said, his voice carrying all the tenderness he’d been holding back for so long.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, you stayed there, clinging to each other, both knowing you had everything you could ever need right in that moment.

[onlybeeewrites]

Whatever it takes (1/ )

Pairing: platonic!Oc x Liam Mairi, platonic!Oc x Xaden Riorson, Oc x iron squad

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: Karina was nothing like her brother. Their father made sure to remind her of that. Now facing death in the face every day, she was glad she wasn’t. Now there are two Riorsons at Basgiath War College; what could go wrong?

Warnings: FOURTH WING SPOILERS, POSSIBLY SOME IRON FLAME SPOILERS — violence, mentions of death, scars, cursing, fire, parental death, bad parenting, and dragon attitude

Whatever It Takes series: Next

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The stone steps of Basgiath War College’s turret stretched endlessly upward. Up, up, up. Each one worn smooth by the countless cadets who had dared to climb before. For Karina, it was the only thing keeping her from her from her family. It was twisted, really. The fact that the death sentence that was the Riders Quadrant was actually bringing her closer to what she wanted most. What she needed most. 

Behind her, her foster brother and arguably her best friend, Liam matched her pace as they climbed up the steps of the turret. His broad shoulders and easy demeanor a comforting presence amidst the tension that crackled in the air. The stuffy spiral stairway that was filled to the brim with cadets all willing to attempt to cross the parapet in hopes of surviving; to be Riders.

The wind outside whistled through the open windows as it  continued to grow restless, as if it was eager for the show that was about to begin. And Karina could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She tightened her grip on her pack, one that should be full but was packed with so little. Clothes. A book from home. And one nice dress. It wasn’t much. Not that she had much to begin with after she had to leave her home six years ago. 

But it was different now. 

She was different now.

“You’re smiling,” Liam says, sounding almost amused. “What, are you actually excited to cross the parapet?” His eyebrow was raised. His voice filling her ears despite the fact that hundreds of other twenty year old’s voices are echoing back and forth against the stone. All eager. But there was a handful there because of obligation. Some were there because legally they had to be. Not because they wanted the glory or power that came with being a Rider.

But against all odds, Karina smiles despite the hammering in her chest and slight tremor in her fingers.  

“No, but I am excited to see Xaden again.” The idea of seeing her brother after so long was the only thing that kept her going up those steps. Gods, did there need to be so many? Maybe she should have focused more on working on her legs than her sparring.

It had been now three years since Xaden had left and gone into the Rider’s Quadrant there at Basgiath.And it had been the longest three years she’d ever felt with only the occasional letters.  

Liam scoffs. “Of course you are. Should’ve known you’d be thinking about your brother over the life-threatening death walk we’re about to take.”

Karina rolls her eyes and resists the urge to hit him with her elbow, “And Bodhi. And Garrick. It’s been years, Liam. Six years, since I’ve seen them. Now they’re all big bad dragon riders. I can’t wait to-“

“Stress them out?”

A wicked, mischievous grew on her face, “Exactly,”

Soon, the line came to a stop as the first candidate reached the top. Swallowing, Karina looked upward, knowing that her brother was just a few dozen stairs away now. Her heart pounded at the idea of finally seeing him. The knot in her stomach tightened as one by one, the cadets ahead of her crossed the parapet.

As they slowly reached the top, the wind hit them like a wall, whipping through them. And Karina was grateful that she decided to braid her thick hair and pinned it into a neat, bun at the base of her neck. Even though stray curls whipped around her with the wind, it wouldn’t be nearly as bad as it could be if she hadn’t. Because now just a few feet before them stretched the parapet—a narrow stone bridge suspended 200 feet above a raging river, its uneven surface leading to the Riders Quadrant’s citadel. 

Her eyes snapped to the figure leaning against the entrance to the parapet. Tall. Still about 10 inches taller than her, even though she was in her boots. But he was in all rider black. A new scar on his face that wasn’t there when he had left Lewellen. The stubble. But the familiar welcome of his onyx eyes that reminded her so much of home.  

Xaden had always been her home. Even when they were younger she would always follow along behind him and Garrick around their home. Even when Xaden would shoo her away to play with Bodhi instead. But mainly when their mother had left them.

Home no longer was a place.

It was her brother.

It was Xaden. 

It took her everything not to run right up to him. They were targets here, no matter how high  Xaden was in the ranks. She wasn’t. So she waited as one after another the Death Walk, as Liam called it. Besides, she was a Riorson, she had a reputation to uphold.

“Name?” The rider asked with an older looking scribe beside him. Her eyes snapped back towards him and cleared her throat. 

“Riorson, Karina.”

The moment she spoke the rider and scribe both froze for a split moment. Their eyes darting upward to look at her. And she knew exactly what they saw. A traitor. A marked one. Daughter to the Great Betrayer. Tyrrish blood. It was enough to put a target on her back. But she had that on the moment she was born into the Riorson family.

Her eyes moved away from the rider taking down the names, not bothering to wait to hear what other smart-ass comments they had to give her. Because she met the eyes of her big brother. The one who she was so fortunate enough to be with while they were fostered after the Apostasy. The one who helped her though the nightmares after watching their father and the others, being killed by dragon fire. The same brother who she soothed and helped clean his back after he had gotten the one hundred and seven cuts on his back. One scar for each of the children of the rebellion leaders. 

And now she stood before him. Insanely built. Tough and hardened. But alive. And that was more than anything else she could ask for. It was more than so many families could say about their children who even attempted. 

But his eyes read a different story than the bored expression on his face. As much as he tried to hide it, she could tell he was happy to see her. Irritated that she had to be there. 

“Riorson. Good to see you made it up in one piece,” Xaden said, his eyes darting briefly to Liam and nodding again, “both of you.”

Karina smiled, “well it helps that I kept up with my exercising and all,” she said simply, “you could look better. Though the scar makes you look ten times cooler than before.” She added with a smirk.

Xaden rolled his eyes, hiding his amusement. “Enough about my appearance, cadet. It’s your turn and you’re holding everyone up,” he said, nodding with indifference to the stone bridge ahead of her. He didn’t seem worried. Not that she could see anyway. Either before he didn’t want her to doubt herself or he had pure faith in her. Probably both. 

“I’ll see you in the other side,” Karina said as she heard Liam give his name to the rider keeping track. Taking a breath she stepped up onto the parapet and walked forward before pausing briefly.  

Karina looked upward to the sky as it was darkening. The wind picking up quickly. And she was honestly surprised it wasn’t raining yet. Maybe she’d be able to make it across before the storm got worse. She quickly checked herself over. Her plain long sleeve black shirt and pants, along with her sturdy boots were nothing fancy. 

But she had never been so grateful for her brother’s advice. Before arriving at Basgiath, he had told her the rules of the Riders Codex, the rules they all live by. And according to it, whatever you cross the parapet with is yours. So she did just that. 

On her waist, a leather belt held a set of daggers, each one sheathed and ready for her to grab easily. The first was positioned at her right hip, a slim, curved blade that could cut through skin like paper if she was quick enough. The second was tucked on her left thigh, a little smaller but no less dangerous. The third and final dagger was positioned at her waist. 

Their father had made sure to leave one of his daggers for her. And for her 20th birthday she was given it. As if a final gift from her father. And as much as she had a complicated relationship with him, she cherished those daggers close.

“Get on across, Riorson,” she heard Xaden’s voice scolding in her ears, and she shot him a playful glare over her shoulder. That must be his Wingleader voice Bodhi had written to her about.

“You should remember I don’t like to be rushed,” Karina said, but regardless looked ahead. Her brown eyes flickered upward at the swirling storm clouds above them. Any minute now it’s going to start downpouring. And she did not want to be on this death trap when it did. 

Karina took a deep breath, her gaze fixed ahead. The wind was stronger here, tugging at her clothing and tousling her hair. She could see faint markings on the stone—painted lines demarcating quarters of the bridge and indicating the halfway point. 

Taking a deep breath she calmed down her racing heart and stuck out her hands as she moved out, away from the safety of the battle monuments and into the open air. Goosebumps rising on her skin. The wind howled around her, and the chasm below seemed to yawn endlessly. Karina’s focus narrowed to the stone beneath her boots, the rhythm of her breathing. 

Focus. Breathe. One foot in front of the other.

That seemed to work for her. Eyes ahead, one step at a time. Before she realized, she reached the halfway point, marked by a faint red line. And for a moment Karina allowed herself a brief glance to the side. The view was breathtaking—the sprawling expanse of Basgiath, the winding river below, and the distant peaks beyond. 

Yes; even in this terrifying moment, with the storm waiting to unleash any moment, with the raging river, the wind, she couldn’t help but admire it. She was forced to be there. Stuck in what was supposed to be a death sentence. 

But Gods was it beautiful.

“Mairi, you’re up,” she heard her brother’s voice say, and a quick glance behind her showed that Liam took his place onto the parapet. But she quickly returned her focus to the path ahead. This wasn’t over just eh.

The final stretch approached, and the parapet began to widen slightly, the stone walls of the Riders Quadrant’s citadel becoming visible. The wind seemed to intensify here, swirling around the narrowing bridge. Her fingers brushing against the cool surface for added stability in those last several feet.

Karina felt like she could breathe as she finally stepped through the archway, her boots crunching on the gravel. The courtyard was expansive, capable of accommodating a thousand riders. Its layout resembled an angular teardrop, with the rounded end constituted by a massive outer wall at least ten feet thick, designed to support the weight of dragons perching upon them.  

“Name?” 

Karina’s eyes snapped to the red-headed rider with the parchment. She seemed to want to be anywhere but there. And Karina could only imagine how tiring it could be to take name after name after name.

“Riorson. Karina, Riorson,” she said, keeping her head up as the second year seemed to pause. The redhead looked up to her and narrowed her eyes for a moment, 

“Riorson?”

Karina crossed her arms over her chest, staring back at the older girl, refusing to look away. To back down. She couldn’t trust anyone here. No one but three other Marked ones. The risk of them coming after her were higher than most. Especially with her name attached, and with her brother here? Mixed with her father’s reputation? A recipe for disaster.

The second year just let out a small huff before nodding her head aside, “move on. Wait for assignments.” She said, and Karina smirked before moving to the side, grinning as she watched Liam cross easily. 

After he gave his name to the second-year, the two made their way through the crowd of cadets. New first-years, and returning second and third years all watching the eager cadets.

“I can’t believe we made it. I mean that parapet is no joke, I thought the wind was gonna take me a few times. I feel bad for whoever has to do that in that rain,” Liam said, grimacing at the sight of the rain and wind; both equally getting heavier.

Before Karina could respond, a hand grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back with tug. 

“Gotcha!” the voice boomed, teasing and familiar.

Without thinking, Karina’s body reacted faster than her mind could catch up. Her fist flew instinctively, connecting with something solid—a sharp crack filled the air. She felt the jolt of the punch travel through her arm, and a grunt echoed from the person she’d struck.

The hand released her immediately, and she spun around, heart hammering in her chest, ready to face whoever had dared to sneak up on her. Her hand flying to her hip to grab the closest dagger.

But then, her eyes met the unmistakable, grinning face of her cousin, Bodhi.

“Oh gods,” she muttered under her breath, feeling the color drain from her face. “Bodhi? What are you fucking stupid?”

Bodhi stumbled back, holding a hand to his jaw where her punch had landed. “Ouch,” he groaned, though the smirk never left his face. “Was that really necessary, Karina? Ever heard of a warm welcome?”

Karina  heart rate slowed as she realized who it was. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it was you—” She stepped forward, before pausing and narrowing her eyes. “No, you know what? I take it back. That’s what you fucking get for sneaking up on me. I swear you were fucking asking for it,” she said with a huff.

Bodhi grinned wider, rubbing his jaw with a laugh. “I’ll survive.” He winked. “But you’re quick. I forgot how fast you are. That’ll come in handy for you here,”

Before Karina could say anything else, another voice interrupted their exchange.

“Is everything alright here?” Imogen’s voice rang out, carrying over the courtyard.

Karina turned to see Imogen and Garrick walking toward them, a mix of concern and amusement in their expressions. Imogen’s sharp eyes shifted from Karina to Bodhi and back again, her lips curving up into a smirk as she took in the scene.

“I think Bodhi learned his lesson,” Imogen teased, her voice light with amusement and heavy with sarcasm.

Garrick, ever the stoic one, raised an eyebrow. “Did you really have to punch him that hard?” He asked, though she didn’t miss the amused look in his eyes.

Karina’s shrugged, “I wasn’t expecting anyone to sneak up on me, especially after just crossing that parapet. He came up to me out of no where, he’s lucky I didn’t break his nose,”

“You’ve always been so violent” Bodhi teased with a chuckle, his expression still light. “But hey, good to know Karina still has a mean left hook.”

“Clearly,” Imogen said dryly, her eyes twinkling with laughter as she glanced at Karina. “Should’ve known better than to sneak up on a Riorson.”

“Well, you should’ve seen the look on your face when I grabbed you,” Bodhi added with a laugh, now recovering from the punch, “You were ready to kill me.”

“I still might, depending on how much longer you keep running your mouth,” Karina shot back with a raised eyebrow, but there was no malice behind the words. 

Gods, she missed this. Missed him. Missed them. How long had it been since she’d seen him? Too long. It all had been much too long.

Garrick’s lip quirked to a smile. “But I have to admit, you’re a sight for sore eyes, Karina. We all knew you’d make it across, but I didn’t expect the fistfight at the end.”

Karina nodded in return, her own smirk growing at Garrick’s amusement. It sent easy always pulling a smile from him before, but now after three years in the Riders Quadrant? It felt like a special reward, “It’s been too long. I’ve missed you all. I’m glad to see everyone’s in one piece,”

“Well, as in one piece, as you can get,” Bodhi said, still rubbing his jaw lightly, “You’ll have to get used to seeing us more often. This is home now.”

Karina eyes scanned the courtyard as the others fell into step around her, each of them already making plans for what would come next. Training. Drills. Threshing. Everything to grind them into perfect weapons. It was one hell of a home.

“Right..” Karina muttered before her eyes flickered out the window as the rain now was completely lashing down. Like it had waited for Liam to get across before starting its release. Her eyes darted to the parapet, just in time to see a young woman with silver hair run the last few feet of the parapet. She had turned and held it to the groin of the male behind her.

Her eyes widened a bit. The hair alone, even through it was braided, told her everything she needed to know about her.

“Is that..?”

“Yes,” Imogen huffed, her eyes narrowed down at the rather short female who had now turned to give her name to the name keeper.  

“And Xaden…”     “Yep,” Bodhi said with a nod, glancing to Karina, “he already has a whole plan set. I would call it cute if he didn’t already threaten me,” he said, causing Karina to shake her head with amusement.

~~~~~~~~~~ Soon enough, the last candidate crosses the parapet hours later. By now it was late afternoon and the storm passed on. The sun beat down on them now, causing the air to become humid and sticky. As they all gathered, Leadership gathered as well on the dais to call the attention of the first-years.

Commandant Panchek takes the center of the dais and his voice rings out as he begins a whole speech about how three hundred and one of them made it across. And goes into further detail about how the Codex was what they would live by, how their professors would teach them everything they needed to know, and so on. 

“Riorson, Karina. Second Squad, Flame Section, Second Wing.” 

Karina frowned and glanced at Liam who was already in a different squad. Her heart fell but she also knew realistically the odds of them being put together was low. They tended to try and separate the marked ones. She looked ahead of her and moved forward through the crowd. She could see Xaden from the corner of her eye on the dais watching carefully as if someone was going to come out swinging at her. 

It was more comforting than the eyes and glares she received as she moved through the parting crowds. Karina stood with her head up among her squadmates. None seeming to have the same swirling black mark on their left arm like her own, but she would manage. She just has to survive until threshing. 

So she stood in place. Behind who she knew was Violet and her friend, a pretty dark skinned girl. More names were called. And soon enough cadets surrounded her making up her squad, and then her section, and then her wing.

The tall boy with light brown hair and freckles long his face to the right of her was the first to break the silence, “Hey, so… guess we’re all in this together now,” he said, offering a kind smile, his eyes flickered over the group. “I’m Sawyer,”

Karina’s eyes landed on Violet Sorrengail, who was standing beside the other girl, her posture tense, arms crossed over her chest as if bracing for impact. She hesitated as she glanced over her shoulder at Sawyer before say, her gaze darting from Karina to Xaden before finally settling back on Karina.

Karina caught the hesitation and couldn’t help but smirk. “Don’t worry, Sorrengail,” she teased, voice light with amusement. “You’re my brother’s problem. My issue is with your mom, so don’t sweat it.”

Violet blinked, then exhaled sharply in what might’ve been a half-laugh, half-scoff. “Good to know, I’m…Violet,” she muttered, clearing her throat.

Beside her, the taller girl still looked wary, shifting slightly in place, “I’m Rhiannon,” she said, glancing hesitantly over Karina. But before she could say anything else, the shorter dark haired guy to the left of Karina leaned in with a dramatic whisper. “You look like you’re about to bolt. What, scared of a little Riorson?”

Rhiannon shot him a look, but the tension in her shoulders eased just a fraction. “I’m not scared,” she shot back, lips twitching. “Just… cautious.”

The guy grinned. “Uh-huh. Sure.” He looked over the group before looking Karina up and down with a smirk, “I’m Ridoc. You’ll need to know the same for later,”

Karina rolled her eyes and chuckled, “yeah good luck with that,” 

She then took a moment to have a look over the mismatched group that was now her squad. They weren’t a team. Not yet, at least. She could still see the distrust in their postures. But Sawyer seemed to be the most open to her, which was good at least. 

They continued to read off all the names until all three hundred and one cadets are organized into sections and squads. But then there was a pause. And Xaden moved to talk to the other Wingleaders. And her eyebrows furrow, trying to figure out what the hell her brother was trying to do.

Then after what seemed to be a rather long and heated discussion when the third year who was calling out the name nods to Xaden in a final approval and clears her throat. All the Wingleaders turn to face the cadets. 

“Dain Aetos, you and your squad will switch with Aura Beinhaven’s,” she announced as she scripted something down on the parchment. All the cadets seemed to share a look amongst themselves. But their squad leader, Dain Aetos, seemed to just accept the orders. No questions asked. 

“Follow me,” was all Aetos said as the squad erupted in mourners. Though they followed Aetos to their new position in Fourth wing. Karina narrowed her eyes, darting around before she smirked in realization.

No fucking way.

Xaden had moved them to his wing. With Bodhi. Imogen. Garrick. Her family. A section and squad full of marked ones. Looking in front of her, she could see the moment Violet had the realization too. Karina couldn’t help but find it amusing. But she made a mental note on asking Xaden why he had done it in the first place; not that she was complaining. 

As the sections seemed to settle down into their official spots, Xaden then took to the center of the dais. Folding his arms over his chest as he looks over the hundreds of cadets littering the courtyard now in organized lines. And Karina could see how his eyes were analyzing each and every one of them. As if he could see right through each one of them. 

“You’re all cadets now,” he started, his voice booming across the courtyard, “yeah I’m sure you feel pretty badass now huh? Feeling pretty unstoppable, first-years?” He asks as the applause of the first-years fill the air, cheers and cocky woos.

But Karina didn’t, remaining still. She knew her brother. He wasn’t one to just praise a bunch of fresh cadets for walking across the bridge. It was a set up. And it seemed she was right. Because the next thing she knew, wing beats, filled the air. And dragons started to land amongst the masonry on the top of the walls. 

Beautiful creatures.

A red, a few greens, and a stunning blue. 

Their massive forms looming over them, their shadows casting and blocking out the sun. Screams filled the air. And a cadet runs. The red dragon seems to make an example and with a breath of fire, turns the cadet to ash. Two more cadets run from this. And then two more are dead.

What idiots.

The blue dragon turns its head towards directly at Karina. Tilting its head slightly, but those golden eyes threatening, but almost curious. She let out a huff of steam through her nostrils before turning her attention back to the rest of the crowd.

Sgaeyl. 

That had to have been Xaden’s dragon. She was just like what he had told her briefly in his letters. But words didn’t do her justice for how she looked in person. Let alone the massive size. Beautiful. But fucking terrifying.

After everything seemed to settle down again, Xaden looked over the crowd again with a rather bored expression on his face. “Anyone else change their mind? No?” He asked as he paused, “Good. Roughly half of you will be dead this time next year. A third after that. Here, no one cares who your parents are. King, noble, merchant, farmer, general. Here, you’re on your own,” he adds a bit too pointedly, his eyes landing on Violet.

“Tell me now if you still feel elite. Tell me if you still feel unstoppable. Untouchable,” a roar of fire blows over them from the blue dragon—Sgaeyl.

“Because you are not special, or valuable, or untouchable, to them,” Xaden continued, pointing to Sgaeyl. “To them? You’re replaceable. And at the very bottom of their food chain.” He finished scanning the crowd with an intimidating smirk.

“Welcome to the Riders Quadrant, first-years.”

[hyukaboos]

Can’t drive past the places we used to go to.

Lee chan x fem!reader

playing: Drivers License by Olivia Rodrigo

god im so blue, know we’re through.

Lovers to Exes!

summary: lee chan misses you.

warnings! : Angst!!!!!! language and mentions of aftercare

word count : 1k

Lonely.

After you left that was the only thing he considered himself as. Everything happened all at once the night it ended. One second he was having drinks with his friends and the next minute he’s at home begging you to let him fix it one last time.

He stares at the ceiling of his bedroom thinking about what you’re doing right now. Thinking about what went wrong? maybe it was his fault or maybe it was yours.

Chan could never blame you for what happened. Maybe you two were just not right for each other. But Chan had always felt that you were the one even if it hurt him.

𝜗𝜚

“hey stop it!” your voice beamed in happiness as he tickled you on the picnic mat, UNO cards were scattered everywhere “No way! you definitely cheated!” Chan retorted.

“I swear i didn’t! I won fair and square!” your voice beamed enthusiastically with a million dollar smile. Chan took a moment to look at you before he tackled you into a bear hug.

Laughter was heard loudly in the park you two were resided in. It felt so surreal to Chan how he was here, with you. Chan knew at this moment he could never love someone else like the way he loves you.

You two looked at each other for a brief moment before he gave you a small peck on the lips and got off of you. You brushed off your wrinkled skirt to make it look more neat.

You let out a small sigh and said “have you tried the chocolate covered strawberries i made? they’re delicious!” before reaching for a chocolate covered strawberry and holding it towards Chans mouth.

“How can i be sure you didn’t poison it?” He said with a slight teasing voice as he open his mouth to take in the strawberries. You glared at him with playful looking eyes and hit him slightly on the shoulders.

Suddenly, Chan started coughing and held onto his shirt. In a panic, you frantically start to pat his back and-

He laughed out loud and said “just kidding sweetheart, these are amazing.” and looked at you with his bright eyes. “You should make them more often!”

Letting out a scoff you hit his back hard and he lets out a small whine

“i was genuinely worried about you dumbass!” He laughs at your reaction and says “don’t hate the player, hate the game” and grabs another one of the strawberries and munched on them.

The strawberry was soft and sweet, he liked the flavour of it.

After his 5th strawberry he asked you “so, are you ready to get your drivers license?” looking directly at you with his lips covered in chocolate.

Chuckling, you brought your fingers up to rub the chocolate off his lips and replied to his question “yeah i’m ready.. just bit nervous though.” He looks at you with such loving eyes and reassured you that everything will be fine.

𝜗𝜚

“YOU DID IT!” His voice beamed with excitement and he held you close and spun you around, everyone around the two of you looked up and down at the scene.

“Quiet down! everyone’s watching you idiot!” you said with a hushed voice and laughing at the way Chan reacted after you showed him your drivers license.

But at that moment he didn’t care if anyone was judging him. All he cared about was you. All he saw was you. He was so proud of you. He sighed as he let you go from his hold but held your hand in his.

“Wanna celebrate with strawberries and chocolate?” He asked and caresses your hand with his thumb the loving look in his eyes never leaving yours.

And with a big smile you said “of course.”

𝜗𝜚

“You ok?” He asks you. After last night’s activity, he’s been more careful with you the morning after.

Giving him a reassuring look you looked up at him and said “I’m ok baby, but i am kind of hungry for a snack.”

“strawberries and chocolate?”

“yes please.”

𝜗𝜚

“I don’t know Chan you tell me.” You said. A dead look is in your eyes. And he knows he fucked up. For the past few months Chan had been disappearing on you.

Every date planned ahead of time is cancelled due to his “schedule”. It never was a schedule to begin with. He just needed an excuse to drink with his friends.

it wasn’t only once but multiple times. Sometimes he would even ghost you for a few days before replying to your text messages.

“Chan, is there something wrong with me? is that why you’re cancelling all our dates?” You said and he noticed tears starting to leave your eyes.

“No honey please, I just needed some space-“

“If you needed space then why don’t you tell me instead of cancelling all of our plans!” Your voice trembled as you spoke. He couldn’t even look in your eyes.

“don’t you know? this is the first time i’ve seen you in months.” you sobbed out. Looking at him while tears fell down your face.

Chan hated it when you cry. It’s even worse when he’s the reason. He looks down and stared at your tears that fell onto the floor.

“Please. Let me fix this.” He begged you.

“I don’t even know anymore..” you murmured, unsure if you will give him another chance or not. Being with Chan made you realise how appreciated you felt being with him. Every moment just felt right with him.

It hurt you that it had to end this way.

It hurt him even more that he was at fault.

𝜗𝜚

Lying on your side of his bed, it felt cold. It was not like how it was before. You would be in his arms naked under his hold while giggling about something funny that happened at work.

With tears streaming down his face he sat up and looked at the food his friend bought him to somewhat cheer him up.

With a shaky breath he took a piece. Looking at the food with a lifeless expression, he takes a bite out of the chocolate covered strawberry. For some reason, it was hard to chew and it tasted bitter.

yippie

[shakespearean-dream]

TW!!! — blood, scarring and mild body horror ahead 🥲

benny’s turn!

before i start i wanna clarify i hesitated a bit on posting this because lovely mutual @vor-leser just posted his benny interpretation (go look at it and follow him btw), and idk if we like mind melded or smth but our human benny’s are super similar LOL. i damn near scrapped the whole thing out of fear someone would get mad at me but i Would Not be able to start over and get this done ever so this is as good as we’re gonna get. 😭 my apologies niko love u /p

this has been like a full 7 days in the making 😭😭 the art block that i felt coming on while doing ellen and ted hit me like an optimus prime sized semi truck this week along with a depressive episode so i definitely appreciate that happening and i am not upset about it at all! /s i’m totally good so don’t worry or anything /gen, mental health is just weird and i also wanted to explain the gap in my posts 😔

i do not know how to feel about this drawing if i’m so fr with you; i’m proud of myself for AM-ified benny cause i think i got the slowly rotting from the inside out primal freak energy down pretty good, but on the other hand this feels kinda empty?? i usually have a lot more commentary squished in here but i think my brain’s a little fried 🤦‍♂️ i love drawing me some beautiful buff men though so drawing normal ben was familiar territory. however his wack ass haircut i gave him is his punishment for being a PRICK!!! go sit in the corner and think about ur actions benjamin.

like ted n the rest of the sillies i’m not straying too far from canon with his personality, he’s an ass and a murderer and a hella smart dickhead who desperately needs to be punished by the universe (thank you for that one AM). hot take i did not like his “redemption arc” in his game scenario and i don’t think with how he was throughout the entirety of his life (and also throughout the game, main example his inner dialogue) he would actually go out of his way to help the kid because he means it??? n prove he changed to the guys he killed cause he means it??? i dunno maybe AM torturing him made him have a main character “omg i’ve been in the wrong this whole time!!1” moment like the game suggests i’m just not buying it 💀 i’m sure it’s just cause bennys scenario couldn’t be too long and they couldn’t fully flesh him out which i won’t fault the game makers for. i’m a steven universe fan, i know what time constrictions can do to a plot and redemption arc 😭 looking at you white diamond…

his wife n kids are up top and they’re kinda neat to me— i was considering the hc that part of the reason manya (his canon wife) left him is because she realized she was a lesbian which would be funny as fuck considering benny’s also One Of Them Queers 😭. i think during the brief times he was home and able to parent his daughters they got really scared and tired of him, one because he’s just a very threatening powerful and overbearing man, but also because i feel like he would’ve been on their ASS about everything. grades, extracurriculars, friends, wardrobe, this guy was micromanaging his family to an annoying extreme (ofc because of his perfectionist complex). he probably loved manya and the kids in his own weird way, but it was more contractual to him than any real personal relationship. maybe he inherited that from his own parents?? i doubt he ever talked to them after he moved out.

that’s about the end of my thoughts on this fucker. 🥲 funny storyyyy i just remembered i have laundry to finish so im gonna go do that, lord help me. thank you for reading all this if you did!!!!! we’re over halfway through so who do yall want next? wanna save AM or nimdok for last? i’ll see u guys later :]]]

[happy74827]

I came to make present you a proposition: Gideon and Reader but they’re enemies to lovers, you know sexual tension, can’t be away from each other but are always butting heads, ironic but maybe not that ironic flirting completely over the top but neither want to swallow their pride and admit they wanna fuck

Yeah I think that’d be neat

Burning Rage

[Gideon Graves x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You swear you hate each other, but you can't help but find yourselves drawn to one another, despite all the arguing.

WC: 2701

Category: Enemies/Lovers, First Kiss

I'm so sorry this took so long. Life has been HECTIC, but I'm finally getting these fics done. Anyways, you’re absolutely right. This is neat and hopefully you like what I wrote (despite the fact that I am not proofreading it cuz I’m lazy 😁)

『••✎••』

You and Gideon… well, let’s just say your first meeting isn't a pleasant one.

He was a pretentious, egotistical prick with the personality of a bag of wet shit, and you absolutely despised him.

Not only was he an asshole, but he was an asshole who had the most infuriating ability to get under your skin and push all your buttons, no matter what you did to prevent it.

The man was like a disease; you tried to keep away from him as much as possible, but if you weren’t careful, you ended up coming into contact with him, and no matter how much you washed, you couldn’t quite seem to get him off your skin.

The worst thing about it all was that everyone was in love with him. He could do no wrong, and no matter what he said or did, the people around him hung off his every word and were practically tripping over themselves to do what he said.

He was so smug about it, too, the absolute bastard. He knew he had everyone in his clutches, and he reveled in it, basking in the attention and praise he got.

The man thought he was god's gift to humanity, and he made sure everyone else knew it.

It was sickening.

You were the only person he couldn’t quite break down and mold into his perfect little doll. No matter how hard he tried, no matter what he said, you never gave him the satisfaction of seeing your cave, even just a little.

No, you were stubborn and headstrong, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his claws into you.

He'd be lying if he said that didn’t intrigue him.

You were the first person who had ever given him the cold shoulder, and it was frustrating him beyond belief. He'd always been able to make people bend to his will, whether it was through his natural charisma or by using the information he'd gathered on them to make their lives miserable if they didn't.

But you... You were a challenge, and he hated and loved it all at once.

It was so different. He had no control over what happened between the two of you, and while the concept was strange and unknown, he found himself becoming obsessed with trying to break you down and get a reaction out of you.

And so, it began.

The flirting started out as a joke. He didn’t mean anything by it at first. He just wanted to get a reaction out of you, see those pretty cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and hear you stutter and struggle to come up with a retort.

You were good, though; you always had a quick-witted reply ready to fire back at him, and he had to admit, it was fun.

It was a nice little game for the both of you, even if it was just to let out your frustrations with each other and try and gain some sort of upper hand over the other.

But then... The lines became blurred, and things got messy.

When you were alone, your words held more weight. Your insults weren't so lighthearted, and the way you said his name had his heart racing. He wondered if you realized how your voice dropped and sounded more breathless when you addressed him.

It was like you were whispering a dirty secret to him, and something about that excited him in ways that made him feel guilty and ashamed.

Your fights turned from petty squabbles to something that was almost... sensual in nature.

The way you stood so close, faces inches apart, the tension between the two of you almost palpable, and the way you looked at him... You were looking at him like you wanted to devour him, and that alone was enough to make him weak in the knees.

Your conversations were filled with hidden meanings and implications, and there was so much sexual tension he could have cut through it with a knife.

He was addicted, and he was certain that you felt the same way, from the way your eyes roamed his body, lingering on his lips, and the way your hands would ghost over his arms and chest whenever he was close.

He wanted you, and he was pretty sure you wanted him, too.

The only problem was neither of you was willing to admit it or give in, and so, the dance continued.

“I swear to god, Graves, if you don't quit following me around like a lost puppy, I'll break your fucking legs," You growled, glaring at the man trailing behind you, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Why, darling, you know you don't mean that. After all, I'm sure you'd miss my presence and my company, wouldn't you?" He hummed, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes and scream at him.

"I think I'd be able to find a way to survive without your charming presence," You snarked, turning on your heel and facing him, "Now, go and bother someone else because I have places to be."

You brushed past him, not sparing him another glance, and he chuckled before reaching out and grabbing your arm.

"Don't be like that. I just want to talk. Is that so wrong?" He murmured, his tone low and his gaze dark.

“Yes. Yes, it is. Let go of me, or I'll rip your fucking hand off," You tugged on your arm, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp, but his grip was tight and unyielding.

"You know I'm stronger than you, sweetheart.” He whispered gently, “Don't waste your energy.”

“You—” A sharp yank cut you off, and before you knew what was happening, Gideon was dragging you away from the busy street and into a dark alley.

He didn’t let go of you, not until the two of you were out of sight and away from prying eyes.

He stood with his back to the street, keeping his eyes trained on you, and you mirrored his actions, glaring daggers at him.

There was an uneasy silence, and neither of you dared to speak, too afraid that the wrong words would be the trigger to set the other off.

Finally, Gideon sighed and broke the silence, his tone tired and exasperated, "You never make things easy, do you? Why can't you just let things be easy?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings, Sweetheart?" You sneered, and he shook his head, "Maybe if you weren't such an arrogant, narcissistic bastard, I wouldn't have a problem with you."

"Maybe if you'd just let me talk to you without throwing a hissy fit, I wouldn't have to resort to drastic measures," He shot back, and you glared at him.

"Why should I? Everything out of your mouth is utter bullshit." You stepped towards him, and the two of you were chest to chest, his head tilted down, and your eyes locked on his.

"You're so annoying," He grumbled, and you grinned, "Why can't you be like the rest of the women around here? They’re the ones with some common sense."

"Common sense? If they were smart, they'd stay the hell away from you."

"I don't know whether to take that as an insult or a compliment," He mused. He had a smug look on his face, and you were overcome with the urge to punch him.

"Shut up. I don't want to hear another word from you."

"That's a lie. You love hearing my voice; it's like a beautiful melody. It's what keeps you going, day after day," He drawled, and you could feel his warm breath tickling your face and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “A soft lullaby, a beautiful serenade, that has the power to captivate any audience. I bet my voice plays in your dreams every night, keeping you awake and leaving you wanting more."

"Shut. Up." You repeated, but this time, your words were much less convincing, and he chuckled, his eyes lighting up.

"You can deny it all you want, but we both know the truth. I could tell you what I know about you and what goes on inside that pretty little head of yours, but that would spoil the surprise and ruin the mystery," He leaned closer, his lips hovering above your ear, "And we can't have that, can we?"

"You're delusional, just like the idea that G-Man Media is the best there is. You're the one who has the delusion and fantasy of thinking the world succumbs to you. You are nothing, Graves; you are a pathetic, spineless, weak-minded man-child who can't even face reality.”

“Listen here, Buddy—”

“Oh, struck a nerve, did I? Do I need to remind you that no one, and I mean no one, wants to work with you? They do it because you have money, and if they want their business to succeed, they have to kiss your ass. But once that money runs out, and it will, you will be a nobody again, just like you were when you were a sad, lonely little boy, sitting in your room, crying and whining, and wondering why no one would play with you."

Gideon’s smooth expression fell, and for a moment, he was stunned into silence, his mouth open and his eyes wide.

"How... How dare you!" He snarled, his voice rising.

"How dare I? You're the one who dragged me down here and forced me to talk to you when I told you multiple times I didn't want to. If you didn’t want the truth, then you should have stayed away." You spat, and he scowled, his face twisted with rage.

"You—"

"I know. I'm an awful, terrible person, but at least I can admit it. Can you?"

He froze, his mouth open, but the words stuck in his throat, and he looked away, avoiding your gaze.

"That's what I thought," You smirked, "Don't worry, Graves, I won't hold it against you.”

You took this as your time to leave. He didn’t have a comeback, and he didn't seem interested in talking anymore. So, with his head turned away and his back to you, you started to walk away.

You were barely five steps away when you felt a hand on your wrist, and your heart jumped into your throat, your fight or flight instinct kicking in.

In one fluid motion, you swung your arm around to strike him, but he caught it with ease and grabbed the other one, his grip on your wrists strong and unyielding, no matter how hard you struggled.

No words were spoken, just a few pained grunts and strained gasps and the sound of shuffling and scuffing feet as you tried to pull away and escape his hold.

But you failed and gave up when you noticed that he wasn’t glaring at you anymore. Instead, he looked conflicted and lost, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions and a troubled frown on his lips.

The two of you remained in that position, standing mere inches apart; the only sound filling the air was the sound of your heavy breathing and the occasional whimper or grunt that escaped one of you.

"Let me go, Graves." You whispered, and his grip tightened on your wrists, and his eyes met yours again, the look in them almost pleading.

"Let me go," You repeated, but your words were softer this time, and your tone was less forceful and more imploring.

He didn’t speak or make a sound, but his grip loosened. If you tugged just a little, you would be able to slip free. He would let you leave.

And yet, you didn’t.

Your body was telling you to leave, to put as much distance between the two of you as possible, but your mind and your heart were saying something else entirely.

His touch burned your skin, and it left a pleasant, tingling feeling wherever he touched.

You felt his breath on your face, and it made you shiver and your stomach churn as your brain tried to decipher what was happening and what it meant.

“Gideon…” You mumbled, and his eyes widened a tad, but he still didn’t say anything.

It was the first time you’d called him by his first name, and you didn't know why, but the atmosphere had changed. It was less hostile and more intimate, in a way.

"You're so infuriating," You whispered, "You're a smug, arrogant, conceited asshole, and I can't stand being around you."

"You're not exactly a joy to be around, either." He said, his tone lacking the usual venom and arrogance. His voice was soft, like that lullaby he'd mentioned earlier.

"But you're so..." You trailed off, unable to find the right word.

"I'm so what?" He prompted, but his question was more like a plea, and his eyes were hopeful and shining, a hint of something you couldn't quite identify hidden within their depths.

"You're just... So..." You bit your lip and looked away, unable to meet his intense, piercing gaze, "You're so..."

"So...?" He pressed, leaning in closer.

He was close, so close, the tips of your noses were almost touching, and the distance between your bodies was nearly non-existent.

He was waiting for your answer, his eyes searching yours, and his body frozen in place. He wasn't moving, not an inch, and neither were you.

You were at a crossroads, and no matter which direction you went in, there was a chance it would come back to bite you in the ass later on.

So, you made a decision.

You surged forward and crashed your lips against his, kissing him hard.

He was stunned for a moment, his hands releasing your wrists and his eyes wide, but after a moment, he seemed to relax and kissed you back, his hands gripping your waist and pulling you closer.

It was rough and messy, teeth and tongues clashing together, and lips and cheeks being bruised and bitten, as the two of you finally let loose and indulged in each other.

You didn't think and didn't stop to consider the implications of what was happening or how things would change afterward.

The only thing on your mind was Gideon, and the way his hands were roaming your body, and the way he tasted, and the way he made your skin tingle and your insides burn with desire.

You could only focus on the present and what was happening between the two of you as his tongue danced with yours and his teeth nibbled on your lower lip, sending a pleasant shudder through your body.

He broke the kiss and buried his face in the crook of your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your neck, and his hot breath against your skin was making you dizzy and lightheaded.

"Gideon," You whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging gently, on the dark locks as his lips sucked and nipped at your skin, and left a trail of dark red marks in their wake.

His glasses were pressing into your cheek, and he pulled away, his breath heavy and his hair a mess.

"Hold still," He said, and before you could respond, he reached up and pulled the offending articles off his face.

His eyes were a stunning shade of hazel, and they were filled with lust and desire, his pupils blown wide and a deep, dark look in them.

You were mesmerized, and he smiled softly as he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear.

"What did I say? I knew my voice would play a part in your dreams, one way or another," He hummed, a smug look on his face.

"I will break your nose and put you on your knees.” You spoke with your usual amount of venom.

To most, it would sound like a threat, but Gideon was able to read between the lines, and with that familiar smirk on his lips, he pulled you closer, his hands cupping your cheeks and his face inches from yours.

"Is that a promise?"

[charliedawn]

HUNT THE FREAK

Eddie Munson x Teacher!Reader

(You are the new English teacher and arrived in Hawkins not long ago. You have no friends in town and people do not trust you. In order to escape the stares and the noise—you decided to eat at a bench outside the school. Little did you know that you would make an interesting encounter.)

“Sooo…is this the cool kids’ table ? Nice. I feel SO VIP right now.”

You looked up at the man with dark curly hair who had just sat down in front of you. You then took a circular glance around—wondering if this was a prank. You had your delicious sandwich in hand and were eating it quite ravenously when Eddie Munson had decided to unexpectedly keep you company. He was notorious amongst the colleagues and you had caught a glimpse here and there of the young man at the beginning of the year—the same young man who had yet to make an appearance in your classroom so far. You gulped down a mouthful before attempting a smile.

“Yeah. Totally. Coooool. I am cool. So cool.” You laughed awkwardly before taking a sip of your strawed juice box—choking as you took a sip. You started coughing rather violently and Eddie seemed concerned for a second. He was about to ask if you wanted some help before you raised a thumb up—your eyes reddened and stinging. “See ? So cool.”

He blinked twice in astonishment before chuckling.

“Right. You were totally not dying. The juice was just too strong.” He took the juice box from your hand and looked behind it—pretending to read the content list. “Wow. Respect. It’s like 100% apple cider in there. Strong stuff. People died from that. Better be careful.”

You couldn’t help but laugh and Eddie smiled.

“Aaand you’re laughing. Wow. Way to lighten up the atmosphere, Eddie. Guess I chose the wrong career path. Should have told my teachers I wanted to do comedy. Maybe they would have taken me more seriously.”

You smiled and Eddie tilted his head curiously at you. He had never seen you around before. It was rare to find a new face in the sea of Hawkins’ residents. With a little luck, you weren’t gonna run away the moment he told you his name—if you had already heard the rumors that is. He gave you a careful once over and smiled at the dark brown suit. You were dressed all in brown. It matched his eyes.

“I like your vest by the way. Very professional.” He complimented you and you smiled back. It was nice to have a conversation. You would usually get a lot of hate stares or rude comments from the average student so…This was a nice change of pace for you.

Your eyes caught sight of his rings and you smiled before nodding in their direction.

“Nice rings.”

He grinned before extending his hand forward to look at them.

“These old things ? Yeah. They’re pretty neat. I got them from my uncle. He has like…a whole treasure trove of stuff stashed away in our trailer. We call it the Munson Chest. You wouldn’t believe the things I found. I know you don’t know me or my super cool uncle, but if you’re interested, all you gotta know is that we’re both really REALLY cool. Me a little more than him but, yeah. Definitely cooler.”

You laughed again and Eddie smiled. Yeah. Definitely a fan of that sound. He laid his chin in the palm of his hand.

“…So, may I know your name, or should I just stick to ‘new kid’ or ‘cool kid on the block’ ? I am totally fine with that by the way. No pressure.”

Your eyes widened slightly. Oh…He thought you were a student. That explained the sudden familiarity and the bright-eyed curiosity. You were about to tell him when you heard the bell ring. You sighed. You needed to get back. Eddie seemed to understand and smiled.

“Well…That sounds like the end of our little chat.”

You stood up and frowned as he didn’t seem to do the same.

“Hum…aren’t you going to class ?”

Eddie was surprised at the question before he chuckled and shook his head.

“Me ? Nah. Gave up on that. Besides, I do not think Mr. Niels—my math teacher—would like to see my face again when last time, I kinda drew his face on the blackboard. It was very cute and artsy, but I guess he didn’t appreciate my creative style since I was sent to the principal’s office and got excluded for a whole week.”

You winced. Mr. Niels was not exactly a funny guy. You knew firsthand since a lot of students had complained about him already. But since math teachers were rare, the headmaster usually pretended to be deaf. You hesitated. You weren’t happy leaving the young man alone, but he then smiled and winked at you.

“Better go. You wouldn’t wanna disappoint the teacher now, would you ?”

You hesitated for a moment longer before finally leaving. Eddie watched you leave and smiled before looking down and his eyes widened slightly as he saw that you had left half of your sandwich on the table. He looked around—making sure nobody was watching—before smiling and grabbing the sandwich to take a big bite out of it.

A free meal and he got to talk to a girl.

Must have been his lucky day !

The next day:

He was back at the spot. He wondered if you would come back ? He played with his rings for a moment and smiled as he recalled your compliments on them. People usually didn’t like his style. He hadn’t been aware that any new student had joined Hawkins High, but at the same time he was barely attending so, he could have missed it.

Suddenly, there was a noise and he looked up. He saw you walking towards the bench and absentmindedly ran a hand through his locks self-consciously. You sat down in front of him and he chuckled before teasing.

“Couldn’t stay away, could you ?”

You smiled.

“Well, it’s my spot.”

He gasped and pretended to be offended.

“Excuse you ?! It is MY spot. It has been my spot since 1st year of middle school. I called dibs years ago. Go find your own, missy.” He frowned with a fake air of authority, but couldn’t keep it up for long before he cracked a smile. “But…I guess we could find some type of arrangement. If for example you have let’s say a big fat juicy sandwich you wouldn’t mind sharing…I guess I could consider letting you share MY special spot ?”

You raised an eyebrow at him. Your sandwich ? You looked down at said sandwich you had brought for your lunch today and realised the way his eyes seemed to stare at the food. It was as if he was mentally drooling. Your stomach twisted as you realised he must be hungry and by his small waist…you guessed he didn’t feed himself enough for a young man his age. You smiled and cut the sandwich in two.

“Sure. Here you go.” You extended half of it to him.

He was momentarily taken aback by your quick agreement, but wasn’t about to pass out on another free meal. He smiled and thanked you before taking a large bite of the sandwich—a big happy grin of satisfaction gracing his face at the bursting flavours. Damn. Fresh ingredients and what was that sauce ? Sweet honey mustard ? Sweet.

"Wow ! This is like…the best sandwich I ever ate. What’s in it ? This is no normal sandwich. It’s Scooby Doo awesome sandwich level. Like, the only thing missing are the Scooby snacks and this would be MY childhood dream school lunch. Yeah. That would be healing my inner child on so many layers…levels…is it layers or levels ? Can’t remember.” He rambled and took another bite before letting out a sigh. “Oh yeah. Hits the spot.”

You smiled as his satisfied expression and his eyes were almost sparkling with delight. You took a bite of your own half and felt happy. It was just a regular sandwich but, sharing it with him seemed to somehow make it even better. He was nice. You didn’t understand the rumors or the general dislike for Eddie Munson. He surely had a way with words and held that certain spark hard to find and even harder to keep…

But then, there was another noise and you both looked up to find a student standing there. You briefly recalled that his name was Justin McDunn and were about to say hi when you noticed how nervous he seemed. He looked awkwardly between the both of you and Eddie seemed to understand something. He sighed and lowered his sandwich.

“Welp, duty calls. Sorry. Be right back.”

He stood up and you wanted to ask what he meant by that but restrained yourself. You saw them both step aside and curiosity made you stand up and follow them discreetly. You then stopped a few feet away and hid behind a tree as you saw Munson give something to Justin and Justin giving him cash. The transaction was quick, but you didn’t need to be a detective to understand what was happening. Your heart plummeted and you looked as Justin started walking away. You were about to follow him when Eddie noticed you and chuckled before blocking your path.

“Hey. What are you doing here ? Thought I told you I’d be right back. Who is looking after my awesome sandwich and making sure the crows don’t get to it ? I gave you a sacred mission, and I am sooo disappointed right now.” He tried to laugh it off but you didn’t laugh. You stepped around him to follow Justin, but Eddie blocked your way again.

“Hey, cool kid. Where are you going ? I thought we were having a moment.”

You frowned.

“What did you give Justin just now ?”

You knew, but you wanted to hear him say it. Suddenly, he seemed sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck while looking at everything but you. He finally let out a little huff and shrugged.

“Just a…little something to take the edge off. Nothing more.”

Your frown deepened.

“Eddie. He is 16.”

Eddie frowned back at you—confused.

“16 ? He said he was 18.”

You sighed and tried to move past him again before he grabbed your wrist.

“Hey hey. Wait. Don’t. Please. What do you think you’re gonna do, huh ? He already paid and besides, it’s not that bad. It’s just a little weed.”

You huffed and pulled away.

“Mister Munson. Enough.”

He froze and huffed a laugh.

“Mister Munson ? Come on. Don’t call me that. It makes you sound like those douchebag teachers in Hawkins High.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose.

“That’s because I am.”

His smile dropped slightly.

“Huh ?”

You sighed.

“I am not a student. I am a teacher.”

He blinked.

“Come again ?”

Eddie blinked at you, his brain seemingly short-circuiting as he tried to process what you’d just said.

“You’re…a teacher ?” He repeated, like saying it out loud would somehow make it less true.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Yes, Eddie. I’m the new English teacher, Miss Garrett.”

He stared at you for a long moment, then suddenly let out a sharp laugh. “Nooo. No way. You’re messing with me. You—nope, no. You’re way too cool to be a teacher.” He pointed at you, eyes narrowing like he was waiting for you to crack a grin and say Gotcha!

But you didn’t. You just gave him a look, the kind teachers give when they’re done playing around. His smirk wavered.

“Oh…oh shit.”

You could practically see his brain scrambling, rewinding every single interaction he’d had with you in the past two days. The way he’d sat down and called your bench the cool kids' table. The way he’d joked about skipping class. The way he’d—oh God—he’d flirted with you.

Eddie ran a hand down his face, groaning. “Jesus Christ, I hit on a teacher. I flirted with a teacher.”

You arched an eyebrow. “That’s what you’re focusing on ?”

He pointed at you accusingly. “Uh, yeah ! Because that is a HUGE deal ! I—oh my God. I—” He turned around, hands on his hips, looking like he was having a full-blown existential crisis.

Then he whirled back toward you, eyes wide. “Wait—wait. Does that mean you knew this whole time ? Like, you knew I thought you were a student and just—just let me embarrass myself ?”

You hesitated. “Well…I didn’t mean to at first, but then I realized you assumed, and…” You trailed off, watching as Eddie threw his head back in agony.

“Oh, that’s evil. That’s the kind of twisted shit I’d expect from a Hawkins teacher.” He shook his head, giving you a betrayed look. “And here I thought you were different.”

You rolled your eyes. “Eddie, I didn’t do anything. You were the one making assumptions.”

He groaned again, rubbing his temples. “Okay, okay. This is fine. Everything’s fine.” He started pacing. “I can recover from this. I just need to, uh, never talk to you again.”

“Eddie—”

“No, no, no. This is for the best. I’ll just pretend you don’t exist, and you can go back to your respectable teacher life and never mention to anyone that Eddie Munson was out here sharing sandwiches and—oh God—hitting on you.” He stopped pacing to point at you again, as if to solidify that as a rule.

You exhaled, rubbing your forehead. “Eddie, I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

That seemed to make him pause. He lowered his hand. “Wait…you’re not ?”

“No,” you said firmly. “I’m not here to ruin your life. I just don’t want you selling drugs to kids.”

Eddie frowned. “It’s just weed.”

“He’s sixteen, Eddie.” You repeated.

He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut, rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay. That part was bad.”

“Yeah.”

There was a beat of silence. He rocked on his heels, looking very much like someone who just realized he had no way to talk himself out of this. Then, slowly, he smirked.

“So…does this mean I get an automatic A in English ?”

You groaned. “Go to class, Eddie.”

He grinned, taking a step back, finger guns at the ready. “You got it, teach.”

And with that, Eddie Munson made his graceful retreat—aka power-walking away while mumbling, “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

You exhaled, watching him go.

This was not how you expected your first week in Hawkins to go…

[impala-dreamer]

Meet Me At The Beach

A Supernatural Story

~ Texting and emails can feel so impersonal. There's nothing quite like exchanging tangible, handwritten letters with someone you love...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader, Sam Winchester

4,025 Words

Warnings: Bittersweet Angst. SFW. 

A/N: This is for @jacklesversebingo "Writing Letters To Each Other" was the prompt. I hope you enjoy...

June 2

Dear Dean, 

This feels so weird. Do people really write letters anymore? Am I going to get strange looks at the post office when I go to buy a stamp? Will they even know what to do with this tiny envelope and folded piece of loose-leaf paper? I almost don’t know how to write anymore. My script looks kinda like chicken scratch, huh? Hopefully it’ll get better. It is weird not typing though. But emails just seem like work. Impersonal, ya know? Besides, it gives us something to look forward to when we hit the mailbox. Nice to open something that’s not a delinquent credit card bill, huh? 

Speaking of which- how the fuck do you do it? I just got another card canceled. My credit is non-existent. Fuck, I need to get a job. Could you imagine me in an office? High heels and panty hose and my hair tucked into a neat, matronly bun? I shudder to think! 

OK, this is weird. I just wanted to write “LOL” but it’s not an email. Or a text. Why are we doing this again? Oh, yeah, see above. 

Anyhoo- - - - I don’t even know what to say! Umm… I’m in New Orleans for a bit. Not working, just hanging out. My friend Emily from high school tracked me down online and we’ve been chatty. She’s in a band. They’re not bad. Not great, but not bad. So yeah, I took a drive down to see a show and I’m just lingering. Drinking too much, sleeping past noon. It’s fun. Nice little vacation. 

Which - ahem - you should be taking. When are you gonna get your ass out of that dusty old bunker and stick your toes in the sand? I already told you I’d meet you in Pensacola with sunscreen and a cooler of beer. You know you want to. Or are you just scared to show off your ugly toes in flip flops? Your boots might actually cry if you ever took them off, so I guess it’s just as well. 

Hey, do you remember that night in Richmond when it started pouring and your boots sank into the mud puddle? God, that was a mess. We were soaked to the bone. Nice way to warm up, though - cuddled in the back of the Impala. I miss that car. Sometimes, I think I can hear it at night when the world is quiet and the wind is still. It’s like the engine roars in the back of my mind and I start thinking about all our adventures, all the time we spent driving into the sunset. 

I miss you. Is that wrong? I probably shouldn’t. Or at least, I shouldn’t tell you that I do. But I do. I miss you so bad sometimes that it hurts. Like someone has punched me right in the chest. Maybe we can end up in the same town soon. Grab some tacos and sit on the hood. Make a mess. I’d like that. 

OK, before I get too emotional and start asking you to run away with me, I think I’ll end this ranting scribble of horrid handwriting. 

Write me back soon.

Love, Y/N

June 21 

Y/N- 

Your handwriting does not look like chicken scratch. I like it. Mine is like some toddler just learning his letters. Whatever. I never learned that fancy shit. I can sign my name and make a grocery list. That’s all I need. 

This is weird, yeah. But it’s kinda nice. Feels more… like you’re here. Does that make sense? Like seeing your handwriting, the dents in the paper- I don’t know. Just feels more real. Like you’re not just some computer talking back at me. Also there’s something strange about answering questions weeks later. I meant to write this sooner, but I got a little distracted. There was a Kung Fu marathon on and I just lost track of time. Too much pizza, not enough Carradine. Ya know? You know. 

Remember that horrible motel in Raleigh when we both caught that nasty stomach bug and stayed up all night watching old tv shows? Saltines and Little House. I’ll never forget it. You were so sick that day. Shit, I was sure I was gonna end up taking you to the hospital. Sure, I was puking too, but you looked like death. I hated that. Hated that I couldn’t help you, make you feel better. I did cook up a mean chicken noodle soup though, didn’t I? Not that it stayed down for long. 

Thank god for that yellow Gatorade. And yes- it’s fucking yellow. Not green. 

Anyway- I miss you too. I try not to, I really do. Not all the time, no offense, but sometimes I’m just fucking insane with shit going on. But at night, especially, I miss having you beside me. I miss rolling over and seeing you there, or hearing you snore. I miss feeling your freezing feet under the blanket. I don’t know, I just- 

What can I say? I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I’m the biggest piece of shit in the universe. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. 

Can’t change the past. Just gotta move on. 

Maybe someday you’ll forgive me. I hope so anyway. 

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t dump that all out in a letter. I almost ripped this all up and started over. I actually let it sit for a day before I came back to it. But, fuck it- we said we were gonna write to each other and be honest, and here I am, being honest. 

Fuck, I’m so tired. That kinda tired when sleeping for ten days wouldn’t even put a dent in it. Yeah, OK, so things are getting a little better. Chuck’s gone for good this time. Jack’s got things back in place, even made a few improvements. Sam’s- well, he’s Sam. He’s fine, doing his thing. The dog is- did I tell you we have a dog now? Yeah, I know. Me and a dog- yeah right. But we do. Miracle. He’s a good boy. I’ll send you a picture soon. 

Never thought I could slow down like this. Feels like for the first time we can just - work. I mean, I’m never gonna give up hunting, not totally, but- feels like I could just ease back a bit. Been looking at some jobs in town- nothing crazy, fixing engines and stuff like that. Don’t know if you remember, but I’m pretty good with my hands. 

Did you blush? 

You did. 

OK. I guess- that’s it for now. I have no fucking idea how to end this so - bye?

~ Dean

P.S.  I’ll meet you at the beach soon. I promise.

Fifteenth of July 

To Whom It May Concern:

Re: Beach Vacation

Dear Mr. Winchester, 

I am very pleased to hear that you are agreeable to meeting me at the beach. It should be delightful fun to run through the surf and hunt for sea glass with you.

Oh shit! Do you remember that new age shop in… where the fuck was that? With the sea glass necklaces in the window that I said were so pretty and the witch inside said they were blessed to give the wearer riches or some shit like that. Where was that? Who knows.

Feels like we’ve been all over the world together. Well, this country at least. Lord knows I could never get you on an airplane. If only you could drive to Paris. Did I ever tell you about my trip to France? God, it was beautiful. Rained the whole time, but it was this beautiful, warm spring rain that made everything smell like dust and petals. Not rose petals, but those little white ones that grow on trees, ya know? It was so beautiful. Fuck it. I’m taking you one day. You need to see more than the dash of your car and the backroads of America. Time to travel!

Speaking of- I’m glad you’re slowing down a bit. I know that won’t be easy for you but if you think about it, you’ve spent the last forty years running from problem to problem like a damned bomb-sniffing dog. 

A DOG?! Dean Winchester, I never thought the day would come. I can’t wait to see a picture. Don’t forget it next time. 

I think you’d be a great mechanic. It was always very hot seeing you covered in sweat and grease especially if you had those damned coveralls on. I mean… what? I don’t think about you like that anymore, you know. It’s over and done with and we’re just friends. We are friends, aren’t we? Maybe something more than friends, I guess. Ex lovers? Ew. I hate that word. Lovers. So gross. Well, then what are we? Just two souls swimming in a fish bowl…

Year after year. Day after day. Do you know that I put nearly a hundred thousand miles on my poor truck this year? Back and forth, up and down the country. I don’t have to tell you how exhausting it is. Fun, but exhausting. Rewarding, but not. I wonder how many people remember me after I leave? Does that family in New Haven think about me whenever they go into the basement and it’s no longer haunted? Is there a photo of me on a fridge in Wilmington where I saved that guy’s fiance from the vamp nest? Probably not. I’m sure people remember you - The Great Dean Winchester. The sexy hunter with the green eyes and the giant black car. You’re hard to forget. Also, you hang out with a giant. Tell Sam I said hi. 

I do remember that puke fest! And it’s green. It’s literally neon green. Fight me. 

We could probably write a book, you and me. ‘Winchester & Y/L/N Do America’. It’s a coffee table book with pictures of random diner signs and gas station bathrooms. Maybe a list of the country’s best french fry places. Shit like that. Let’s do it. I’ll call my literary agent in the morning. Ha!

SPARTA!! That’s where that damned sea glass shop was. It just hit me! Stupid brain. I swear, I’ve been hit in the head way too many times. Broken too many bones. I’m getting too old for this shit. Did you know that my left knee pops whenever I stand up now? Like, how old am I?? I can’t stand it. I need a month at a spa somewhere in the desert. That’d be nice. 

Damnit. I just got a call from Vinnie Alverez. Do you know him? Hunter out of Pittsburg. Anyway- he needs help on a job. Guess I’ll cut this letter short. Hopefully I’ll find a box to drop this in on the way to PA! 

Miss you. 

Sincerely yours, 

Y/N

P.S. - I do forgive you, Dean. Of course I do. Things were just too hard back then. Life didn’t want to cooperate for us. It’s not your fault. Not my fault. It just was. Please don’t carry that guilt in your heart. You deserve better than that. 

August 2

Dear Y/N- 

You’re a real character, you know that? Love the corporate letter. I’m in for the book by the way. Could be awesome. We do need a full chapter on onion rings though. Make a note. 

I heard about your hunt in Pittsburgh. Came through the grapevine that you kicked some serious wolf ass. Nice job, kid. Hope you’re being careful. I know how bullheaded and impulsive you can get when you’re in the zone. Just watch your back, OK? Promise me. Last thing I wanna hear is that you got your heart clawed out or you’re walking around with a demon in your ass. 

Demons. Haven’t seen so many running around lately. Queen Rowena’s been keeping them in check. So fucking weird that she’s in charge now. Not that I’m surprised- she’s a badass bitch. If I had a nickel for every ruler of hell I was friends with, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice. The kids still say that, don’t they? See, I’m not old. I keep up with pop culture and shit. Started watching the tik toks. I still don’t get it, but I like the woodturning stuff. Thinking about taking up whittling. Maybe carve you a keychain so you stop losing them. 

I got a call for a job interview. Chickened out though. I don’t know if I’m ready to start all that, ya know? Start a real life in the real world- just seems- I don’t know, scary. Yeah, I’ve faced every deadly thing on this and other worlds but the idea of getting a 9 to 5 civilian job scares me. I’m some kinda fucked up, huh? 

I think about it a lot though. Getting a job, finding a little house somewhere, settling down. A little fenced in yard so Miracle can run around and dig up dirt. Might put a rocking chair on the porch and watch the clouds, some shit like that. Would you come visit me in my Barbie dream house? I’ll cook you breakfast every morning and you can rub my feet at night. Real cozy couple stuff. 

OK, so maybe I’m thinking about you more and more these days. Maybe I’m regretting leaving. Maybe I’m just an idiot daydreaming about meeting you somewhere in the middle and sweeping you off your feet. One of those running hugs that hurts when you collide but ends in a kiss that makes everything feel better. I’m a real romantic fuck, huh? I was digging through my drawers yesterday and I found a pair of your socks. Those tiny ones that barely covered your ankle. I don’t know why they were stuffed in the back of the dresser, but there they were. Dingy white socks with the pink threads on the toes. I’ll bring them to the beach when we meet up. 

Oh, Sam says hi and he hopes you’re good and he wants you to shoot him a text when you can. You can do what you want, but you better not mail him a letter. That’s just for me. God, my hand is cramping up. I’m not used to this. Oh, and you’re not alone. My knee creaks like a haunted house when I go up stairs now. And my right wrist pops, and my neck makes this weird almost squeaking sound, and my ass- well, I could go on, but just know you’re not alone. Kinda weird to think that we lived long enough to be this old, ain’t it? I never thought I’d live to be thirty and here I am staring down 42. Forty Fucking Two. Can you believe that shit? Goddamnit I got old. Let’s go find a nursing home together. Maybe we can get a double room- or a king sized bed?

Think about it. We could be cranky old people together. Losing our memories and shuffling around with walkers and shit. You’d look cute with white hair. And fuck, my beard’s already going gray. Should I grow out my beard? 

Write back soon. I really like seeing your letters in the box. 

Dean  x

My dearest Dean Winchester, it is with great happiness that I write this letter to you and I do hope that it finds you well and happy and all good things and I can’t keep this formal shit up. Ha!

Anyway- but yeah, things are good. I know it’s been a while since I’ve written, but I was on a little trip around the continent. Headed up to Montreal for a bit. Killed some nasties, salted some bones, generally fucked around. My beloved truck crapped out in Burlington, Vermont, so I had to hang out there for a while and gather my resources to get a new vehicle. I think you’d like her. Green Ford Explorer from ‘94. OK, she’s not as sexy as the Impala, but she gets me where I need to go. Which, apparently, was Maine! I met up with some friends in Greenville. Cute little town full of witchcraft. So much fun. Also had a lobster roll on a pier… I swear to god, they plucked this thing right out of the water and slapped it on a buttered roll. You’d LOVE it. I’m gonna take you there someday. 

Speaking of- We need to make plans for Florida. I picked up a little bikini on my travels and I think I really need to show it off. Maybe you could be my bodyguard and keep the creeps away while I’m sunbathing? To repay you for your services, I’ll gladly let you take it off me at night…

Oh, and I’ve thought about this extensively, and I believe that you should, in fact, grow your beard out. Like, full on, bushy lumberjack beard. I can’t wait to see all that gray. You know I have a thing for older men… and you’ll always be older than me, Dean Winchester and don’t you forget it!

And for your information, I don’t lose my keys anymore! I got one of those… apple taggy things. Now I know where they are at all times. Can’t find my phone to find them sometimes, but that’s another issue. 

Two weeks later, I’m picking up my pen again. Sorry this is taking forever. Things are stupid busy. I wish I could just… put this fucking gun down and go live with you on a farm somewhere. Not a working farm, we wouldn’t keep pigs or anything because gross, but a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Big white house with a giant tree in the yard and a tire swing and a picket fence and a kid chasing the dog around and - 

Shit. Do you ever think about it? I do. A lot. More than I’d like to and it fucking cuts me up inside every time. I know we could never have kept it, and life- I mean- it just wasn’t meant to be. But I do think about it sometimes. Imagine if we’d just walked away from the life and tried to be a family? Impossible, I know. Maybe in another life. 

Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck. Ignore me. I haven’t slept in a while and I just

I want to see you. Can we meet somewhere? Wherever you want. I’ll come to you. 

~ Y/N 

Dear Dean, 

This is my second attempt at writing this. Crumpled up the first one because I’m an idiot. Am I an idiot? Did I piss you off with the last letter? I honestly didn’t mean to. I just- we said we’d be honest, and you’ve been so open in your letters that I thought it was ok to talk about, but I guess not. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have dug that stuff up. 

I’m so tired and stressed and I miss you so much. Since we’ve been writing back and forth it’s almost like I can’t stop thinking about you. I get so fucking excited to check the mail whenever I roll back into town. It’s like… I don’t know, it’s like Christmas every time I see your handwriting in my box. Remember the time you wrote your name on my thigh in Sharpie? That stayed on for like a week. I shoulda gotten it inked on. That’d be something, huh? Branded by a Winchester. 

Fuck, Dean, I really hope you’re not mad at me. I really want to call you, but we said we wouldn’t. Just write me back, please. 

I’ll be in your neck of the woods next week. Got turned onto a haunting up in Abilene. Maybe we can meet on the road somewhere? Please? 

Hey, did you know there’s a Hunter, Kansas? Wonder why they didn’t build the bunker there. I don’t know, made me laugh when I was looking at the map. 

Anyway- Please write me back. Or call. Or text. Or send a damned pigeon with a tiny letter taped to its foot. I don’t care, how, just do it please. Even if you’re mad at me and don’t want to talk anymore, I get it. But please. Just let me know, OK?

I’m sorry. 

Love, Y/N

Dear Y/N,

I didn’t know you and my brother were writing to each other like this, but I found your last few letters to him in his private P.O. Box. I didn’t even know he had one of his own, but I guess we all keep secrets from those we love. I hope you don’t mind that I read your letters. Not all of them, but the last two that came through. Please know that Dean would have responded if he could have, I know he would have. He talked about you a lot recently. Said you two were in contact and that he was hoping to find some time to meet you for a vacation. I don’t know where you guys were planning on going, but I found a new Hawiian shirt in his closet with the tags still on it. 

I know we spoke on the phone after he passed, but I wanted to send this to you. I was cleaning up his stuff and found his notepad. Looks like he’d started a letter before we left for Canton. I think he’d want you to have it. 

I’m closing up the Bunker soon. I don’t really know where I’ll go, but I can’t be here right now. Not without my brother. 

I’ll always be around if you need anything or want to talk. I’ll always answer the phone for you, Y/N. 

Be well,

Sam Winchester

Y/N/N, 

If I could take it back I would. Every fucking word. I think about it now and I know we made the wrong choice. I know we could have made it work if we tried. But we are both total fuck ups who can’t be normal. We just can’t. 

Forgive me

That’s dog slobber up there, not tears. Just fyi. Definitely not tears. I think I might have been a little drunk when I started writing and then well-

Anyway- Maine sounds awesome. We were there once but no time for lobster rolls. Guess I missed out. 

Not much to report since the last letter. Been kinda quiet here. But… I did apply for a job. Well, I filled out the application. Well, I started filling it out. It’s actually underneath this notepad right now. I’ll get to it. I will. I just need a good kick in the ass. Or maybe a pinch… wink wink

I absolutely think we need to get together. Pick some place stupid like the World’s Largest Frying Pan or South of The Border. I’ll meet you. Just say when. 

Guess this letter will take a little longer to finish. We’re leaving for Ohio in a little bit. There’s a buncha vampire dicks making a mess. Gonna take ‘em to batting practice. Show them my machete swing. I’ll give a full report when we’re back home

Dean Dean, 

I made it to the beach. It’s hot, like stupid hot. Had to stand in the water just to keep my toes from burning. I’ve been sitting here for hours trying to think of something to say, but all I can say is I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here with me. I wish things had been different. I wish and wish and wish. 

If I throw this into the ocean will it get to you somehow or will my words just wash away like the sand? 

I’ll see you again someday. I hope so, anyway. Let’s just pretend I’m destined for Heaven. I know you’re up there. You were too good not to be. You sacrificed so much, cared so much, saved so many people. I know you made it. If there’s any mercy in this universe, I’ll be up there someday too. Just don’t have too much fun without me. 

I love you, Dean. Always. 

Y/N

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[spametc123]

The phrase “maybe the curtains were just blue” is genuinely so harmful to media literacy as a whole. Yes, things can just be the way they are, but almost everything exists with context. Do you exist or do you exist because of everything that has happened in the world? Your parents met, you didn’t die that one time when you were eight, you’re the person you are because of that awful haircut you had in seventh grade. You exist because of all of that.

So, nothing pisses me off more than when someone uses an incomplete quote. “A jack of all trades is a master of none” without the second half: “but oftentimes better than a master of one” (everyone say thank you Shakespeare) has an entirely different meaning. The first half by itself is utilized to shame people into ignoring things they love or are interested in; meanwhile the full quote praises people interested in a variety of things. Ignoring context literally erodes the meaning behind anything. Machiavelli said “it’s better to be feared than to be loved.” Wrong. Loud incorrect buzzer. Kind of. As Malcolm Gladwell writes, “it’s not wrong, exactly, it’s just incomplete.” (Or something like that anyways.) Yes, Machiavelli did write that. Congrats! But you forgot a kinda, semi, VERY FUCKING IMPORTANT component of that quote. “It is better to be feared than to be loved if one cannot have both.” It should be common sense right? I wish. Ask anyone about their opinion on the incomplete quote and see how many of them think they’re revolutionary when they say “oh I’d rather have both!” If the full quote doesn’t seem to make a difference in your mind, great! But there’s still more context that you need to know to actually understand it (let alone teach it (Mr. History teacher that is NOT a philosophy teacher and should not try to be one)). The quote is from The Prince, a writing in which Machiavelli talks about what makes a good leader. In his opinion, The Prince should know when to utilize love and fear to his advantage. Be loved by your people and feared by your enemies. Seem more trusting than you are so you can see who is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He says that one should prefer to be feared than to be loved in time sensitive situations, not sustainably. That when things need immediate change being feared makes a stronger and more effective leader (which is unequivocally correct and I’m tried of hearing otherwise). So again, without context: a random quote that no one agrees with or really understands at all, whatsoever vs. with context: the assertion that in times of need it is better to be respected and feared than it is to be loved. Or, a personal favorite “dubito, ergo cogito, ergo sum.” I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am. Oh wow! So cool, he thinks therefore he is - being capable of thought means I exist, how neat! Not wrong, sure, but lacking context. What makes the philosophy so powerful is the fact that it’s a paradox. You doubt your existence, therefore you are capable of thought, therefore you exist. Because you doubt your existence, you prove that you exist. But if you are then confident you exist, do you no longer exist anymore? And now you doubt it again. Without context, it’s just words on a page, nothing notable or interesting. Without looking for the context it’s yet another thing people will complain about having to learn because “why does it even matter?”

It’s the same with characters. Armand is batshit fucking insane, yes, but he only is that way because of who he is. The tv show fails his character when they age him up, because even with some of his backstory, he is the way he is mainly because he’s eternally trapped in the body of a 17 year old. ____ is too trusting! Maybe in different circumstances, yes, but that character is the way they are because of the life experiences they’ve had. ____ is the right amount of trusting for the life they’ve lived.w

It’s the same for people too!!! Please find it within you to have basic human empathy! Someone is the way they are because of their life experiences. You can’t have something happen to you, good or bad, and not be affected by it. Someone can only change if their experiences change. No, it’s not your responsibility to change someone’s behavior or to tolerate it, but it is your responsibility to try to understand why someone is the way they are.

Empathy and media literacy are so clearly intertwined it’s would be comical if it wasn’t depressing. Read between the lines, try to understand things that you don’t get immediately. The curtains aren’t just blue. It doesn’t matter if it’s to represent sadness or just because it’s the author’s favorite color or even because the author was so indecisive they made someone else pick it, there’s still a reason. Anti-intellectualism is the curse that keeps on dooming us all.

[smooches-three-out-at-sea]

I’ve only watched episode one so far and I’m so excited for the future dynamic between all three of them I’ve seen spoilers of but I really like the dynamic between Avery and Tristian from the get go (focusing on their working relationship)

Tristian was so excited about the idea of Avery becoming head medic and Avery in return says that Tristan is an excellent nurse

Even as Tristian and Max are doing all that, Tristian is still listening to Avery

For example when they’re stitching up the man’s … and Tristian and Max are having their whole peacocking thing, as soon as Avery says something Tristian is listening

Avery says to Max “if you respect him, he’ll respect you” and they do, they do respect each other

Beyond that, Tristian has no problems ceding to her expertise or to play support to her

Already twice in the first episode we see Tristian take a step back to offer support and comfort, not at all worried about being left out of the medial part

When the couple comes in because the husband has iodine poisoning, he one) cuts off Max trying to disagree with Avery & 2) eases the couples fears by telling them how they call it “seal disease” which immediately the tension in the wife’s shoulder is reduced, she turns to her husband and smiles

Then when they’re back while Max and Avery are cutting into his throat, Tristian is once again comforting the wife, telling her that they’ll take good care of them and explaining the how

That’s a really important part of medical care, keeping people calm and in the loop

Additionally, I think maybe Tristian knows it supports Avery

When she tells Max at the pool that Tristan is her right hand man, she also reminds him that keeping the passengers in good health isn’t the only part of his job

Max replies “also need to keep the fantasy alive”

And Avery sighs as she says “yes, always”

Which could imply that it weights on her if she has to do it too much

Which we could then infer that Avery appreciates when Tristian provides that support

Additionally Avery will step in at any point when something’s going wrong but she never steps in while Tristian’s doing his thing

She trusts him to take care of their patients in that way

I just think it’s really neat all the ways we can see how they respect and support each other in the field from the very beginning

I know I’m overthinking a lot from one episode but I am an overthinker lol

[thechillsquid]

Ford x Bill? Nah

Fiddleford x Ford? Nah

What if I present to you… Fiddleford x Bill

What then, huh? Like think how toxic that would be, espically if it’s post- falling into the portal yet pre full on blind-eye

They’re both so desperate to erase the past and to pretend everything’s fine with a fun little dash of mania and lack of self-care

Like imagine how batshit of a duo!

Here’s a writing of their first official meeting:

Fiddleford didn’t know what to with himself, pacing a hole in the floor as he tried to calm his unraveling thoughts. It had been nearly a week since last he’d even see Ford and he just, he just didn’t know what to fucking do!

He’d helped him, God, he’d helped Ford build a goddamned doomsday device! Who knows what damage had been done!? What could come out of that damned hole in reality! What if Ford opened it again!? What if— if that… that thing came through!

He, he couldn’t go home! He didn’t have a fucking home to go back to anymore! He’d given so much, for so fucking much and— and look where it had gotten him! Fiddleford thought, oh how he’d thought, that this would work out, that maybe he could, could what? The divorce had already gone through, he’d essentially run off with so many damned promises he could have never kept even if he wanted to…

He crumbled to his knees, clutching at his hair with ragged breaths, he— he just wanted to forget—

So occupied with his own spiraling, he didn’t even realize as his body gave into the exhaustion driving him for the last few days. As the world went gray and still. As someone— or rather something— else entered the room.

“Well, well, well!”

Fiddleford jolted, mouth dry. “H-Hello…?” His voice was barely a whisper as his heart skipped a beat. He turned and was met with something odd, and he almost felt glad for the absurdity of it, if it wasn’t so damn familiar.

It was a golden, little triangle… in a top hat and bow tie of all things…?

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

The way this thing’s voice carried, the sugar-sweet wrongness of its tone, that one ever-watching eye. Something in his subconscious withered away from it, his eyes widening. “I know you,” he said, and he hated himself for it, to even give this thing the time of day.

“Is that so, wise guy!”

The… floating triangle (at least it didn’t have any horrid claws or fangs from what he could tell) drifted down to be face to… face (?) with him. That one cat-slit pupil never glancing away for even a second, burning that blank stare straight through his very soul.

He shriveled in on himself, this felt wrong. Wrong and dangerous and…

Triangles… triangles with. With. With one eye.

Fiddleford wanted to throw up. He knew where he’d seen this thing before. Glass stained windows, prisms, statues, murals with symbols and markings too damn neat and tidy, carvings and drawings and—

A portal.

A triangular portal. With that. That one staring eye. Endless screaming, fires burning, things that were strange and horrible and wrong.

“You…” He scrambled backwards, “You’re the one that helped him m-make that damned portal! You’re the one— you’re—“

“The names Bill, Bill Cipher! Just don’t go and wear it out!”

Bill Cipher. So that’s what it was called. “W-What, what do you want!? I— I, I ain’t helpin, helpin’ with that damn—!”

It cut him off with a laugh, and oh, he flinched. It was such a grating, shrill sound. Wrong and cruel and joyish.

“Now, now! Chill out, pal!”

It leaned an arm against his shoulder, that eye narrowing.

“Yeesh! Would you look at those bags, ha, whatcha been up to there, buddy? I thought you meat sacks needed to sleep!”

The man didn’t respond, watching its every move tensely. ‘Bill’ seemed to grow annoyed with that.

“Hello? Am I talking to thin air here, specs? I said, whatcha been up to pal.”

Bill’s voice dipped low and something in him told him to answer, otherwise, things would go very, very wrong.

“I-I, I— I’ve, it’s, it hasn’t been, uh, b-been easy to, to sleep…”

“Aw, what a bummer! Well, lookey-here, specs, but it seems your little chit-chat with my star-A pupil’s gone a little sour, so how’s about we talk about that, hm?”

Who… “F-Ford…?”

The entity brightened, quite literally. The darn thing glowed like a star.

“Well would you look at that! You do still have half a mind rolling around in there afterall, though who knows how much longer that’ll last you! Ha!”

“W-What?”

The demon waved him off, drifting off to kick back and relax.

“Don’t worry about it, specs! Let’s get back on topic, because it seems you’ve gone and made poor ole Sixer go a bit… off the rails. Honestly, it’s like you told him it would be the end of the world or something!”

He rose, feeling somewhat defensive, “W-Well if, if you’re the lunatic that, that h-helped him make that damned portal, t-then good riddance! Go, go and bother someone else!”

It laughed, it fucking laughed at him. Fiddleford bared his teeth, “The hell ya laughin’ at you damned varmint! Don’tcha understand English! G-Get out!”

It turned to him, suddenly inches from his face.

“You know, I’d choose your next words very, very carefully. I’m offering you an opportunity here! You haven’t even let me talk yet! Jeez!”

The thing drifted back, small and cheerful once again, it waving its hand about.

“Fordsey’s practically a mess without you around! And not to mention… difficult. So how’s about we go over there and cheer him up, how’s about it!”

Fiddleford quietly shook his head, stepping back. He couldn’t— he couldn’t go back there, he—

“Ugh, fine. Be like that, I’ll just have to find a snake then…”

“W-What—?” He blinked, and he was once more alone in his room, staring at nothing. One trembling hand came to clutch at his head. He was fucking losing it.

[adragonsfriend]

Ways to Write a Meaningful AO3 Comment…

…or frankly, a comment on any writing or artwork where your primary goal is to encourage and appreciate the creator.

It occurs to me that comments are a mini writing task, I have been a writing tutor, and if I’m going to ramble about how not to form communities and have meaningful interactions on the internet, I could maybe also help make it a little easier.

This post is written on the assumption that people want to interact, but struggle for whatever reason: nervous, tired, didn’t realize comments meant that much, can’t think of what to say. I myself spent years at a time on ao3 not commenting on literally anything—something about stones in glass houses. But in my experience, while getting comments on my own fics is kind of my favourite, leaving the kind of comment I know I would cherish—and sometimes getting replies from authors replying to my comments and actually chatting with them—is pretty damn magical too.

In that spirit, this post is henceforth a how-to, not an argument, and I’m not going to address anything to do with bad faith comments. I’m gonna try and provide some structures and simple formats to start comments from. I cannot emphasise enough, these are all intended to be used from a place of sincerity. Tools for finding and formatting the appreciation which is already in your brain, just hiding from you.

That said, we’re gonna take this in stages—

1. The Chapter Kudos

“Chapter kudos,” a little “<3,” an “I loved this,” or similar simple expressions of warmth and enthusiasm, slapped on a oneshot or each chapter of a long fic. These are a nice small gesture that lets the author know you’re here and you’re still loving the fic. Not every author is in love with the these type of very short comments, but unless they have a specific note about it, they’re almost certainly glad for the knowledge you’re still reading. This is minimal—great for days or weeks when you’re tired, low effort, can’t think of shit to say about a particular chapter, and so on. Comments, like all tasks, must be allowed to vary in intensity with available energy and time.

2. The 1-2 sentences

A one or two sentence comment. Here, a combination of a general compliment: “this was amazing,” and a specific compliment: “character A’s dialogue felt so realistic” works really well.

General compliments are typically easier to come up with:

What an awesome chapter!

Wow ok I did not see that coming—

I fucking. Love. Your writing.

This was so exciting!

I screamed when I saw this updated

Maybe a little over the top, but you get the idea—it’s hard to go wrong with these.

Specific compliments are often a little harder to come up with, but they generally fall into two categories which are both wonderful: content and writing.

Content includes things like:

I love [character] so much, seeing them in [particular situation] was so fun

Wow there’s so little content for [niche fandom/character/ship/trope] it’s great to see it here

Your idea about [authors headcanon] is so smart—that makes [weird element of canon] make so much sense

I didn’t used to be into [trope/ship] but holy fuck am I convinced now

The point being you’re noting a particular element content of the fic—what and who it’s about—that you loved. These are great because getting really damn excited about a character/trope/headcanon etcetera, really is the heart of fandom.

Writing takes a slightly different tack, and talks about the author’s writing skills—what they do well:

You write such good dialogue, it feels really realistic

Your action scenes are so exciting!

The tone of this chapter was so perfectly creepy—the way you describe [setting/character] gave me the shivers

The spacing you used really fit the piece—it’s a neat way to show the character’s mindset there they’re struggling to think clearly

The combination of a general and specific compliment can make it easier to start writing your comment, while giving you a second to think of your specific thought. It’s simple, but it means a lot to get any kind of specific comment, because it shows the author that you are paying attention to their writing and that you appreciate or relate to them, specifically. These comments are fairly quick to write, but can mean so much.

3. The paragraph

Several sentences long, with a bit more room to explain what you loved. Everything from the 1-2 sentence section applies here too. A general compliment is still a great starting point, and specific compliments are still where we want to end up. The main difference is you’ve got a little more room to talk, and you can take that in a few different directions.

You can talk about one specific compliment for a bit:

I love the way you write dialogue—character A saying “[quote]” was exactly what they would say in that situation. And their banter with character B was incredible, i laughed out loud. The way they both use cursing, but in slightly different ways is fascinating. The way character B does it is…

Or you can go through several different ones quickly:

I love the way you write dialogue—character A saying “[quote]” was exactly what they would say in that situation. The fast dialogue kept the pace up and the whole chapter was so exciting—I loved that you brought up character B and character C’s relationship too, it gets so little attention but I love it…

There’s also room for wider observations and questions (these can also totally go in 1-2 sentence comments, it’s just easier to have a little more substance around them):

Your writing always makes me feel so [feelings]

Wait I’m a little confused did [event] happen the way I think it did, or am I being silly?

Your ideas about [character] are awesome, I love everything you’ve written about them.

I’m so curious, what’s your specific lore on [character/event]?

4. Multiparagraph

Several paragraphs, or a very long paragraph. Hot damn, the author is in love with you now. Either you’ve got a whole lot to say about one specific topic of writing or content, or you’ve got a couple of different topics you want to pay some attention to—as you start writing your comment, you’ll probably discover a few more. Let yourself ramble, make bullet points, just get your thoughts out, if you have this many. All the principles from before apply: general compliments, specific compliments, wider observations, questions—all of these can easily feature in a long comment.

5. Fuck Formating

Write comments in whatever format works for you. Bullet points, google translated into the necessary language, rambling, well organized, short, long, emojis, copy-pasting your favorite quote from the fic with an exclamation point, pre-formatted general compliments, whatever will get your thoughts and enthusiasm down.

If you are communicating, the format doesn’t matter all that much. The same information from a multi paragraph comment can be done in bullet points or by quoting. Whatever communication you do will be meaningful to the author.

It’s hard to go wrong—

Like most writing, making meaningful comments and picking out those specific compliments gets easier with practice. There’s no need to write multiparagraph comments all the time. Those 1-2 sentence ones can be full of so much love, and chapter kudos are sometimes all there’s energy for.

The most important writing advice ever in my opinion is this: you have interesting things to say. About yourself, about the world, about writing, about that damn fanfic.

Go forth and use the structures above, or come up with comments I couldn’t even dream of. Whatever you do, you will find fic authors are probably the most willing and grateful audience in the whole world.

[wolfpants]

Top 5 things you think Draco or Harry would say when pissed off ❤️❤️

Ahh I love this one! I actually decided to pick 5 snippets from my fics for this, at random. Prizes for those who can guess where they're from without clicking on the links 😂🙈 Most of these are so unserious...

“You sure you don’t want a turn, poppet?” she asks Potter, twisting around to look at him. “You’re an Aries, aren’t you?” Potter snorts. “Why’d you say that?” “You’re a people-pleaser and you crave approval.” She points at him. “I can tell.” Draco barks a laugh at the offence suddenly written all over Potter’s stupid face as he says, “I’m a Leo, actually!”  “Oh, dear,” Stella says, tutting. “That’s even worse, I’m afraid. Oh dear, oh dear.”

here

-

“Actually, you know what? No,” Potter says irritably, staring at Draco’s side of the room. He’s still shirtless, and Draco is trying and failing to ignore the heat radiating off his bare chest in the narrow space between their beds. “I’m not sorry. I’m not sorry at all. You’re supposed to knock.” “This is my room too, Potter,” Draco says haughtily. He points at the plaque on the still ajar door. MALFOY POTTER “In fact, I’m first,” he says triumphantly, taking off his rings and setting them in a neat row on the desk they’re supposed to share but Potter hardly ever uses. “You’re first because your name’s first in the alphabet, you tit,” Potter says. 

here

“How did you know someone was outside?” Malfoy snapped the book closed and sent it flying further into the cabin with an elegant swish of his wand. “You’re a mouth breather,” he said airily. “You’re very loud. I knew it was you as soon as you stepped off the summit.” Harry scoffed. “Very funny. Nice robe, by the way. It looks like something my Aunt Petunia would wear.”

here

-

“Pleasure?” Malfoy repeats, the corner of his full lips quivering slightly, the palest pink, spring blossoms. “I assure you Potter, it’s all very much yours.” “I’m sure it is.”  Harry leers and Malfoy scoffs, glancing quickly away and touching the tip of his finger to one eyebrow.  “You cut a very handsome figure, Malfoy. I am but a simple man with eyes. It’s a shame you’re such an arsehole.” Malfoy squints at him, his smile wry. “I’ve only ever extended my pleasantries to those who deserve them.” “Of course. There’s nothing pleasant about anything you’ve ever given me,” says Harry, feeling something shift in his chest, a jagged, unpleasant thing, like swallowing food down the wrong pipe. He clears his throat. “What do you want?”

here

-

He composes a new text. Do you know what it feels like to fall for a man like you? How it felt to fall for you as a boy and watch you fall for everyone else? How much that hurt? How I’ve foolishly set myself up for something I’ve tried to protect myself from for twenty years— He goes back and hastily deletes everything. Starts again. You’re fun to be around but you are exhausting. You exhaust me. “Fuck. No,” Draco mutters, deleting everything again, blindly climbing onto the bus and sitting in an empty chair.  Have a good night, alright? It was nice to spend a holiday with a friend. I almost forgot the feeling. Have a safe Portkey journey home. Maybe I’ll see you at Edward’s next party in spring. Goodbye, Harry.

here

-

ask me my top 5/10 anything!

[realuity]

an entirely biased review of all of the original killers in dead by daylight

okay so I don‘r play DBD. frankly, I’d rather shuck myself like a cob of corn than subject myself to whatever nonsense rhe game’s playerbase is up to. the lore’s not my thing and some of the character choices make me wrinkle. but I like horror things and I have a vague understanding of how they play. and I have some opinions. so i’ll throw them here.

thsi only includes the original guys made for the game. no liscensed visitors! (If you are wondering though I like myers and pig for their gimmicks and xenomorph because I love women)

evan macmillian - the trapper

i am excruciatingly neutral on this guy. he is kind of John Killer, which makes sense for how much I dgaf, but still. his mask is cool as fuck, but his lore really doesn’t resonate with me. trapping is a fun gimmick but apparently he lends himself to a lot of campy playstyles, which doesn’t sound too fun. he just exists to me.

philip ojomo - the wraith

this guy’s just really downright miserable. he doesn’t even wanna be here. he just wants to work at a Denny’s and live alone with a cat or whatever. invisibility is neat and the big stupid bell ring for whenever he does it is really funny though. cool guy I just feel bad for his existence

max thompson jr - the hillbilly

iunno this guys concept and lore just rub me the wrong way. just feels tone-deaf. much like wraith i think we should just leave this guy alone and let him farm in peace. he’s had a rough go of it. letting him be just some normal guy would make everything feel less. ew.

sally smithson - the nurse

how does she see out of that thing.

jokes aside she’s another i don’t feel strongly about. apparently she’s pretty meta due to her teleportation shenanigans, but otherwise she doesn’t catch my eye. I’m sorry women

lisa sherwood - the hag

really strong design-wise. really neat looking fungus plant lady. another one that really doesn’t wanna be here. like holy hell ma’am. maybe she and billy can go grill things together away from killing people for a big spider demon. otherwise I’m neutral on her too.

herman carter - the doctor

oh YEAH baby. this guy’s my MAN. he’s a complete SHITHEAD and is TERRIBLE and he’s very fun to watch. Electroshock Andy over here is the giggliest guy on campus and has some really funny builds and gimmicks and is also unreasonably complicated. jumpscare doctor is so fucking funny plus electricity themes are cool even if it is the endlessly fucked up existence of electroshock therapy and military-funded abuse, but what is horror without being a little slice of messed up reality? I never want to go near this man in my life.

anna - the huntress

I like her!! she’s pretty and fucked up. i like predator/prey motifs and she’s got a nice voice. my fav thing about her is the existence of orbital huntress. hilarious as hell. you can just cross-map bean someone with a hatchet to their skull. fuck yeah.

jeffrey hawk - the clown

he’s not even the cunty jester or joyous giggler kind of clown. he’s a freako with a thing for fingers that drugs people. i don’t want to be anywhere near this man in my life. fun short film though. damn good horror villian I just. ewwwwwwwwww

rin yamaoka - the spirit

she should be allowed to kill people actually. literally just some kid as far as I know. i’d be pissed off too if my dad got so fucked over by a company that he started killing people. living in the scary dimension and stabbing people sounds like a way better time than that. saw someone cosplay her once at a convention too and that was pretty neat.

the legion

genuinely wonderfully funny concept. these lot are just some kids that kill people as a hobby. they have a logo and listen to mixtapes while doing it and all. they’re spy mains that think they’re hot shit. the title is unreasonably cool for what they are. the fact they just have to like lie down and take a moment to go wheeze after using their ability is great too. they forgot to pack an inhaler or four to the scary dimension

adiris - the plague

frankly unreasonably badass design. ancient mesopotamian preiest that just like.vomits on people. i'm not too invested in whatever she's up to religion-wise i just think the fact she horfs up blood as a projectile weapon is sick as fuck. the censer as a melee is cool too

kazan yamaoka - the oni

this is the spirits great great peepaw or something aparently. i do love the aestehtic of traditional japanese masks i just wish the mask here had the big ol' eyes and bigger teeth. he hits people with a big club too i guess. neutral on this bloke.

caleb quinn - the deathslinger

IRELAND MENTION LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

otherwise this is a sick guy. old freak who got fucked over by capitalism so hard he decided to build a gu and shoot people with a harpoon about it. plus he's a cowboy. consideirng my biggest interest right now is great god grove, i am predisposed to liking cowboy motifs. also he's really funny in the 2v8 gameplay ive seen you literally just go fishing

talbot grimes - the blight

his main gameplay loop involves ramming into walls like an idiot before hitting someone with a big stick. i guess thats what the infection from hollow knight does to a guy. my only other strong opinion is that they shuould make his rushing running scream be the scotland forever voice clip

charlotte n' victor deshayes - the twins

can this game be normal about facial differences for two fucking seconds . anyway te concept is neat i guess and i like how kicking the infant is so tempting within this game that theres apparently entire meme playstyles based aroud baiting people into kicking the baby, thus getting them out of position for you to go hit them with your scythe

ji-woon hak - the trickster

shame that yet another title that couldve been used for a cunty jester has been taken. oh well. at least we have this guy who's pretty neat. a whole thing based on the k-pop industry is a rlly oddball choice for a horror game, but i dunno i've heard that said industry can get pretty fucked and exploitative. also i like neon colours a lot. the whole bit with him making his synths out of samples of his victims which he goes on to put into his work is really neat i think. hes kinda just some guy though

carmina mora - the artist

alright. her design is really neat and i like all the ink and strong red and black colours and her weird claw hand she turns her hand into. but she is possibly the funniest design slip-up ever. she's chilean and from chile and her major thematic throughline is crows. apparently, chile is like, one of the only countries to not have crows in it. lmao

the dredge

dredge!! dredge my friend dredge!! one of the three Creatures Buddies, dedge is like so fucking cute to me. thats a puppies dog. sure this puppies dog was formed from a dark fucked up ritual spawned from a jonestown situation and is the amalgam of hundreds of people stuck in a high-control cult enviornment, but consider that they're a puppies dog. i think if igave them a sugar cube things would be ok

tarhos korvács & the wacky bunch - the knight

i mean, cool ass concept of a murderous knight and his buddies all being played at once. i'm otherwise neutral. not really a medeival fan, but they're cool i suppose.

adriana imai - the skull merchant

alright she was definitley spawned from the result of a gaggle of designers throwing concepts at the wall and trying to shove them into a pile. a cut-throat millionare who kills ceos for fun, a comic book hero brought to life into a villian by the author's daughter, and a sci-fi high-tech conniving surveillance master murderer. i can respect that mish-mash design philosophy a lot but i'm otherwise also neutral. her little claw arm contraption thing is fun though

hux-a7-13 - the singularity

i really, really like hux! i'm a sucker for evil AI, especally one that's also getting into bioengineering and meaty mechanics. for a heartless killer who's hellbent on the kinda cliche goal of becoming the ultamite lifeform by assimilating others genetic info, he's actually kind of a smug snarky cunt. he calls people worms for no reason. he literally calls people annoying for screaming in pain. i think he and p03 would get along disastrously.

the unknown

one banger to the next. unknown here is a wriggly strange mass that's a love letter to creepypasta, urban legends, found footage and perhaps even the more recent development of analog horror. a squirmy fella who steals voices and fucks over anyone who comprehends them. doesn't even wanna be in the scary spider dimension if i recall correctly. i love the disjointed voicelines that come across as them mimicking whatever they've heard, but they're definitley like.. sapient. i think they have a dashing smile and a lovely crawl.

portia maye - the houndmaster

um. hi. hii hello ma'am. hellou. hi.

this is the newest addition, and she's a doozy. scotish pirate lady with a big ol' dog she loves very much. i don't know much about her.. but apparently her dog's breed is like, a notably loyal and strong one used as a guard dog/ and the lady herself? oh my god she's so fucking pretty. the gold and red on the coat. her badass knife cane. im quaking in my boots for a variety of reasons. i don't find her scary, don't find any of this lot traditionally scary, but yknow. she/s still sick as hell.

[lakesbian]

so i blinked & accidentally wrote 2.4k words of alec analysis, content warning for extended discussion of child sexual abuse

i am actually like. genuinely surprised by how common of an alec opinion it is that people would probably feel more negatively about him if we had a chapter from the perspective of one of his victims or if we had more details on his life prior to the undersiders, because the idea goes directly counter to one of the core Things you have to get if you want to understand alec: much like taylor, you should take absolutely fucking nothing he says about himself at face value, because--also much like taylor--he is Absolutely Fucking Terrible at understanding himself!

and speaking of taylor, she is also absolutely fucking terrible at understanding alec. nearly all of the commentary we get on alec is from taylor’s point of view, and she’s frankly incredibly ungenerous towards him.

her very first thought about his childhood mentally classifies him as not being one of heartbreaker’s victims, and the pity she’s offering him wears out pretty quickly when he doesn’t speak about the abuse in terms she finds palatable--while she does secondarily recognize that living with heartbreaker impacted him on some level, she regards him primarily as someone who does Bad Things because he’s a Bad Coldhearted Person.

she and alec are fairly similar--they’re both people who have been abused, people who are remarkably desensitized to violence because they’ve been abused, they’re both people who have ended up on the same villain team where they regularly commit terrible acts of violence, and they’re both people who are terminally oblivious to their own emotions while they commit those acts of violence. their actions are both similarly horrifying from an outside viewpoint, but by sectioning alec’s actions off in her mind as being horrifying because he’s ontologically a bad person w/ no interiority or justifiable reasoning for his actions, she doesn’t have to face that her own actions are horrifying regardless of how she justifies them to herself. neat little compartmentalization trick! alec stabbed that guy to death with a fork because he’s a Bad Person, but when she used triumph as a bargaining chip by filling his lungs with bugs, it was for Understandable and Interiority-Having reasons, so she’s fine.

what this means is that nearly all of the commentary we get on alec is from the perspective of someone who has a very strong psychological incentive to avoid being fair to alec.

much of what taylor thinks about alec is blatantly irrational and wrong, and the fact that he (similarly emotionally oblivious wrt himself + probably entirely unaware she feels this way about him) never directly confronts her misconceptions means that we spend the entire book being told “hey, here are the reasons you should think alec sucks” without any alternate viewpoints to consider. i think that if we saw the worst things pre-undersiders alec did without the repressed way undersider alec describes them or taylor’s biased perspective obscuring what actually happened, most people would feel Really Fucking Bad for him!

even in the very first discussion of his childhood, it’s clear that taylor’s reading of the events is wrong--aside from the fact that she’s not classifying the kids as victims (girl what), there’s these lines from alec:

“[He] pushed my limits, made me do stuff that was dangerous, stuff that was hard on my conscience.”

“I had convinced myself I didn’t care about the people I was hurting or about this guy I’d just killed, and maybe I didn’t. Maybe I don’t, still. Dunno.“

taylor’s response to this is:

“He’d been made to do it, he’d been in fucked up circumstances with no real moral compass to go by, still a kid. The way he described it, though, it didn’t sit well with me. Cold blooded murder.“

that is not how he described it. 

1. he outright says that what he was forced to do was “hard on his conscience”

2. he outright says that he “had convinced himself he didn’t care about the people he was hurting,” i.e he was a 10-13yo child being forced into extreme violence by his ridiculously abusive father & he naturally repressed his emotional reaction to it because there’s no other way to feasibly psychologically cope with feeling the full brunt of the emotions that induces. he’s not a Cold Blooded Bitch, he was a kid desperately convincing himself he didn’t care because he couldn’t care if he was going to survive.

3. yeah, he says “maybe i don’t [care], dunno.” this is because the 3+ years he spent learning to cram every emotional response he had to his abuse into a box & then solder-iron that box shut do not magically disappear the second he escapes from his father. it’s not at all unreasonable that taylor (also 15 and horribly emotionally repressed) misses this, but the “maybe” and “dunno” are indicators that he genuinely can’t tell whether or not he cares! as imp points out after he dies, it’s not that his emotions aren’t there at all, it’s that he has no ability to read them--much like taylor, he’s great at convincing himself of things regarding his feelings and then genuinely believing those things. he’s fifteen and has been out of his abusive home for all of 2.5 years--he’s not capable of grasping the full impacts that the abuse had on his psyche, and the way he describes everything from a detached perspective and waffles about on allowing himself interiority is a natural result of that.

if we saw this or any of the other murders alec was forced to commit as they were happening, we would not be feeling less generous towards him, we would be thinking “i want to beat heartbreaker to death with his own bones, because this is an evil thing to do to a child.”

okay, that’s the murder out of the way. now onto the significantly more controversial aspect of what alec did as a 10-13yo.

taylor generally regards alec as a special type of ontologically real & distinct class of person called a rapist. many people in the fandom share her viewpoint on that one. and, like, objectively true--he is a rapist, he raped people. but applying “rapist” as a descriptor meaning “evil piece of shit who sucks, but i guess he gets some leeway since he was a kid, but he still sucks and is bad and probably a sociopath” is massively flattening the circumstances under which he committed sexual violence & severely underestimating how it impacted his psyche.

taylor--and again, most other people in the fandom--tend to unilaterally go “gross and fucked up, he sucks, moving on” during bits where alec discusses that aspect of his childhood. but if we actually pause to read between the lines for the details and then address the actual context (which alec is not capable of doing, because 1. emotional repression to hell and back and 2. it was, as he said, normal to him), it becomes very clear that it’s unjustifiable to slap the “Sucks + Evil Predator” label on him and then move on feeling comforted by the straightforward moral judgement.

“’Sure,’ Alec drawled. In a more normal voice, he said, ‘But what I’m saying is he wouldn’t mind. Now, it’s been a little while, but there was a time when I had someone in my bed every night.’

‘When you were with Heartbreaker,’ I said. From the look of disgust on Aisha’s face, and what I imagined was a similar expression on my own, I suspected we were on the same page. At least on this one thing.

‘Sure. Cape groupies, my dad’s girls, people I used my powers on toward the end.’

There wasn’t even a trace of guilt or shame on his expression, no regret in his tone. He just looked bored.

He went on, ‘What I’m saying is that I’m speaking from experience.  Having someone cuddled up beside you, even if it’s a little bit of a pain in the ass, having that body contact isn’t so bad. Especially when you’ve had a bad day.’”

like, okay. let’s unpack all the implications there.

1. alec is bringing up this whole topic as an attempt at empathy--aisha is effectively saying “i’m pissy at taylor for being intimate w/ brian while he’s experiencing the worst pain of his life” and alec is effectively responding with “i support them, because when i was in similar circumstances, physical intimacy made me feel better.” it is extremely notable that he’s implicitly comparing brian’s “bad day” (getting fucking bonesawed!) to his own “bad day” (living with his dad)!

2. alec grew up in Emotional Neglect & Abuse: The Household. this is established in buzz 7.1--he recounts that there was zero attention paid to him & the other kids except for when heartbreaker was terrifying the shit out of them for either a perceived slight or in an attempt to force a trigger event. he also grew up in Sexual Abuse: The Household. as detailed in one WoG, the heartbroken were a massive group hiding out in significantly less massive houses--6-8 people sharing a room was common. alec was constantly in close quarters to normalized sexual abuse from the ages of zero to thirteen, e.g the memory mentioned in his interlude where he starts crying over not being given the TV remote and a sweaty, wearing-nothing-but-briefs heartbreaker stomps out of the bedroom to terrify alec for interrupting what was, very presumably, a marathon of sexual assault. exposing children to abuse happening in their environment is a form of abuse itself. there’s also the WoG in which this is mentioned:

“Look at it this way - at the age that many boys are raising an eyebrow at boobs, family members were saying 'hey, here are all the boobs you could want...’ Interested in dick? ... Dad's not that into it but a sister can hook you up. At an age when many are just figuring out enough of the world to ask 'what's heroin?' or 'what's weed?' he was given heroin and weed and everything else that was theoretically obtainable and told to only indulge if it was someone else's body. At an age when many are saying 'sex must be awesome' he was given free reign.”

which is sexual abuse! it is in fact exceedingly sexually abusive for alec’s father & older siblings to go “hey, 10-13yo son/little brother, i notice you are Hitting Puberty! here’s a fucking tidal wave of sex and drugs, have at it.” he didn’t magically get the idea to commit acts of physical violence w/o grooming & coercion from his family, and the same goes for the sexual violence. it’s not a hard extrapolation to make that after 10 years of isolation and abuse he leaps on the chance for physical intimacy, for something that actually makes him feel good when good is a feeling he’s never really gotten to have before--and how would he have a frame of reference for this being bad when his childhood was one long march of his own autonomy being violated + constantly seeing other peoples autonomy violated?

alec did not leave the house as a kid. alec Wasn’t Even Thirteen. the people he assaulted were victims, but he’s inarguably not the person with primary culpability for the assault--that would be the family members significantly older than alec who directly groomed him into hypersexual behavior, kidnapped + brainwashed victims also significantly older than alec, shoved them at alec, and said “have at it, buddy.” (which he, considering it to be normal and desperate for any positive attention or emotion, immediately adopted as a coping mechanism.) it would be absurd not to regard alec as a victim in this circumstance as well, and the fact that the way he was victimized led to him hurting people doesn’t change that. he was a chronically abused and manipulated preteen--he couldn’t issue meaningful consent or exercise any real autonomy in his decision-making. his lack of emotional reaction to casually sharing the story isn’t a moral failure, it’s an indicator of how badly the abuse skewed his perception of what’s normal.

and despite All Of That, taylor’s immediate reaction is to judge his lack of guilt, shame, or regret. which isn’t a wholly irrational reaction from her by any means--it makes complete sense given who she is and what information she has. but it does mean that the judgement we’re given on alec in this moment is nearly entirely detached from the material reality of what happened & how that reality should reasonably be regarded.

3. i think i’m literally the only person i’ve ever seen point this out--the first category of person he lists off as having slept with is “cape groupies.” as in, fans of capes. 

what kind of person do we suppose would be a fan of heartbreaker’s cult? what kind of person would have a thing for heartbreaker’s sexual abuse and mind control cult? the fact that he specifically mentions “cape groupies” means these were people who liked the heartbroken and were picked up by it voluntarily--what kind of person would want to sleep with one of heartbreaker’s barely-pubescent superpowered children?

yeah, that one sounds less like alec committing rape and more like heartbreaker providing access to his children to pedophiles w/ a Thing for the powers involved, presumably because it was a fantastic honeypot for people he could drain for money or otherwise use as a resource (which was his primary method of staying undercover & getting by). which alec parses as normal enough to casually slip into a random sentence.

alec’s childhood was not a lengthy tour of him committing sexual violence because he sucked, it was him being sexually abused, and a portion of that abuse included him being groomed to perpetuate it onto others. because that’s one of the Core Things about his character: he was a victim of grooming to perpetuate a cycle of abuse, he ran away from it at an impressively young age, and he spent the rest of his life making stumbling attempts to jerry-rig a distinct system of ethics & decision-making so that he wouldn’t be like his father.

no, the abuse he experienced & the way he responded to it wasn’t straight-forward or palatable. he’s not a stereotypical or idealized Good Victim--none of the traumatized teens in worm are. the specifics of what happened to him & what he did as a result are uncomfortable. he participated in hurting other people very badly. he still doesn’t really understand everything that was wrong with what happened. he doesn’t open himself up for pity or add caveats when discussing it to make it clear that he’s viewing his childhood the Right Way. he doesn’t feel or talk about it the way he’s “supposed” to. he doesn’t understand why or care that it upsets and disgusts people. the abuse left him with low to no empathy, and he’s not ashamed about admitting that.

and absolutely none of that changes that he’s still undeniably a victim, and if we saw any of the things that happened to him from the perspective of anyone involved, if we saw the abuse he experienced without the normalized lens he views it through or the villainizing lens taylor views it through--everyone would probably feel really fucking bad for him.

or in other words: alec vasil is a little boy whose life fucking sucks, and we all have to be nice to him, okay?

[razorblade180]

Names

Furina:Aether, we need to have a very important conversation. Promise you’ll take this seriously.

Aether:….I know we’re both over 500 but I’m not in the mindset of a family besides finding my sister.

Furina:Not the conversation I wanted in the slightest! I just gained my freedom in case you forgot. I just wanted to discuss cute little names for one another.

Aether:*scrunches face*

Furina:What!? Why that face!?

Aether:Never really was a fun of that sort of thing.

Furina:Said the man who accepts titles like they’re going on sale.

Aether:You know…

Furina:I’m not calling you “Executioner”

Aether:Then what’s the point of any of this!? It’s so cool.

Furina:I told you to be serious!

Aether:May I ask what brought this on?

Furina:*red* I just…think they’re neat. It’s only natural that people who are close to one another to give names that show the affection.

Aether:….

Furina:Is this you silently judging me?

Aether:No I’m just fighting tooth decay. Your answer was unexpectedly sweet. Still, I’m not really good at these sort of things.

Furina:That’s because you’re an overthinking. Surely you’ve known me long enough to have something to describe my magnificence.

Aether:Furina if I’m being honest, if I had to compare you to anything it would either be those floppy ear bunnies that get angry sometimes, or an emotional kitten.

Furina:Please never say that second one again.

Aether:What’s wrong with kit- okay I see. Told you I suck at this! Why don’t you just go force and tell me what you have in mind.

Furina:…

Aether:You haven’t the slightest idea.

Furina:I thought maybe we could workshop or something!? Cut me some slack. I typically shorten names but yours feels weird. Plus that would be boring.

Aether:We’ll what do you typically want to call me?

Furina: What, besides “mine?”

Aether:….

Aether:You’re going to make kitten stick if you keep talking like that.

Furina:*red* Nooooo! Focus Aether! We don’t have to commit to anything right now. Just spitball.

Aether:Despite the fact you constantly smell like a pastry mixed with rose water, I’m not about to call you a long winded dessert or something as dull as cupcake.

Furina:First of all, my shampoo is daisies and not rose water. Second, I appreciate you noticed I smell nice. Third, cupcake is wonderful but taken by Clorinde.

Aether:Who calls her cupcake?

Furina:I’ve…said to much. Dismiss that from your memory.

Aether:…Tweetie. I like your singing. You’re like a free songbird.

Furina:That’s not a bad attempt.

Aether:It’s funny how nicely you said that while obviously rejecting that.

Furina:*smiles* I am a woman of many talents. We should probably call it here. No need to force these things. I only wanted to bring attention to it. Rest assured that I will put the utmost care in whatever my heart chooses.

Aether:Seriously, it could just be my name.

Furina:Awww, is someone embarrassed about this sorta thing? You are surprisingly introverted despite all of your achievements.

Aether:You’re one to talk.

Furina:Hehe, true enough. *hugs him* I suppose “Aether” is as glorious as any other name. I’ll admit that I personally enjoy how it sounds.

Aether:*flustered* I swear, where do you get your energy?

[Sometime later]

Navia:Have anything planned after this?

Furina:Not really. I should probably run through some lines after this tea party but I don’t actually feel up to it. Maybe a nap or-

Aether:*walks by*

Navia:Oh! Hi Aether!

Aether:*turns head* Hmm? Oh hi Navia. *looks at Furina*…..

Furina:??? What’s with the silent gaze? Is there something on my face?

Aether:*red* N-No. I was surprised to see you is all, Sugar Cube.

If a ghost were to sneeze right now, everyone would hear it. Navia’s eyes widened as she let out the smallest of gasps and saw Furina’s mind come to a screeching halt while her face became every color of red. The actress slowly put down her tea, stood up, and dragged Aether by the hand around the corner.

Furina:I’ll be right back Navia.

Navia:(Where is Clorinde and Charlotte when I need them!? I have to talk about this with someone!)

Aether:W-Was that bad?

Furina:*grabs scarf* No no no. It was simple, realistic even. Not to mention cute. However… you were absolutely right about the embarrassment. I don’t think my soul can handle that! Just call me Furina.

Aether:I wanted to do that from the start! I said that in front of people!

Furina:I’m sorry!! I thought I was strong about this but I was horribly wrong!!!!