#maybe me sharing this comment will just sound like a brag

[destinationtoast]

Shared reader feedback squee

You know what I love almost as much as getting an amazing AO3 comment? Reading comments that others have gotten on their fanworks/creative works that have made them happy! So here's an experiment -- what if fan writers and artists and such start sharing more comments that we love? (Feel free to link to your work, too!)

I'll start with one I just got on Outgrow the shoes of expectations that is short, but so so sweet:

How I feel: ✨✨🥰🥰🥰✨✨

Please share yours too, if this seems fun!

[ellswritings]

New Years Eve

Chandler Bing x Reader

TW: Janice lol

»»————-　⚜　————-««

     "So you want to do a no date pact?" (Y/N) asks with doubtful look on her face.

"Yes." Chandler nods aggressively. "No dates. Just us seven."

"You really think you can pull that off?" (Y/N) quips again, not believing Chandler will be able to go through with his proposition.

"Okay, you know what, (Y/N)," Chandler begins slightly aggressive. "I don't need your negative comments, alright? Now who's with me? I say this year, no dates, we make a pact. Just the seven of us. Dinner." He tries his hardest to make it sound appealing.

The rest of the group mumbles in agreement, not truly that interested in his idea. Chandler scoffs, "You know, I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm." He looks at them slightly offended.

Everyone sarcastically begins cheering louder to please his ego. He smiles gratefully and (Y/N) can't help but shake her head in amusement as she takes a sip of her coffee. She doesn't think this pact will last more than a day. Maybe less.

Especially with how things seem to be going for Phoebe and the guy she called out while singing onstage. She smirks and leans back to look up at Chandler, "Still think this whole no date pact thing is gonna work?"

"Oh shut up." He grumbles.

"Hey, that guys going home with more than a note." Joey chimes in, clearly impressed with Phoebe.

(Y/N) snorts out a laugh and sends Chandler a sarcastic thumbs up. The man simply rolls his eyes and goes to sit on the other side of the couch, farthest away from (Y/N).

             »»————-　⚜　————-««

     About two hours later, (Y/N), Rachel, Monica, Ross, Chandler, and Phoebe all sit in Monica's apartment decorating the tree to make it look more festive for the party. (Y/N) and Chandler begin to detangle the golden tinsel as Rachel looks back at Phoebe.

"Pheebs, I can't believe he hasn't kissed you yet. I mean God, by my sixth date with Paolo, I mean he had already named both my breasts!" Rachel laughs lightly until she realizes what she just said. She pauses, "Ooh. Did I just share too much?"

Ross scrunches his eyebrows, "Just a smidge."

"David's like, y'know, Scientist Guy. He's very methodical." Phoebe explains.

"Well, I think it's romantic." (Y/N) smiles.

Monica nods in agreement as Phoebe begins to light up with excitement, "Me too! Oh! Did you ever see An Officer and a Gentleman?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's kinda like the guy I went to see that with. Except, except he-he's smarter, and gentler, and sweeter... I just- I just wanna be with him all the time. Day and night, and night and day... and special occasions..." She begins to trail off, giving a not so discreet side eye to Chandler.

The man throws his hands up, "Wait a minute, wait a minute, I see where this is going, you're gonna ask him to New Year's, aren't you? You're gonna break the pact. She's gonna break the pact." He announces, looking around at everyone.

Phoebe gasps, "No, no, no, no, no, no." She says getting on her knees on top of the couch. She looks at all of her friends and then gives in. "Yeah, could I just?"

They all collectively gasp, everyone besides seemingly Chandler. (Y/N) looks at him accusatorially as he nods his head to the side, "Yeah, 'cause I already asked Janice."

(Y/N) furrows her eyebrows, not expecting Janice the be the one he ended up asking. While she does feel an extreme sense of bragging coming on for her calling that the no date pact wasn't going to work, this new revelation almost made bragging not worth it.

"What?!" Monica asks, has agape.

"C'mon, this was a pact! This was your pact!" Ross says incredulously.

Chandler shrugs, "I snapped, okay? I couldn't handle the pressure and I snapped."

"Yeah, but Janice?" (Y/N) raises an eyebrow. "That was like the worst breakup in history!"

"I'm not saying it was a good idea, I'm saying I snapped!" Chandler defends.

"Clearly." (Y/N) mutters irritatedly.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Chandler asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nothing." She replies quietly.

Suddenly the door flies open to reveal an elf Joey with shoes that jingle as he walks. Everyone stares at the man, mouth wide. (Y/N) gasps and begins to cackle as Chandler smirks.

"Hi. Hi, sorry I'm late."

"Too many jokes... must mock Joey!" Chandler exclaims happily.

"Nice shoes, huh? " Joey asks as he wiggles his foot, making the bells jingle once more.

(Y/N) can't believe what she's watching, "You're killing me." She continues laughing.

Rachel looks in between (Y/N) and Chandler, "It's like having two of you." She says to Chandler.

Marcel, Ross's monkey jumps over into the kitchen and knocks over multiple kitchen appliances. Monica looks at her brother exasperatedly, "Ross! He's playing with my spatulas again!"

"Okay, look, he's not gonna hurt them, right?" Ross counters, defending his monkey.

"Do you always have to bring him here?"

"I didn't wanna leave him alone. Alright? We- we had our first fight this morning. I think it has to do with my working late. I said some things that I didn't mean, and he- he threw some feces..." Ross explains upset, making (Y/N) have to hold in her laughter again. She loves the chaos her friends  emanate.

"Y'know, if you're gonna work late, I could look in on him for you." Chandler offers.

(Y/N) scoffs, "Chandler taking care of something. Never thought I'd live to see the day." She smirks playfully.

"You're on one today, you know that?" He quips back.

(Y/N) shrugs happily, satisfied to know she successfully got under Chandler's skin.

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

     "So tell me something. What does the phrase 'no date pact' mean to you?" Ross asks harshly to Monica, who just revealed she got a date for the party.

"I'm sorry, okay. It's just that Chandler has somebody, and Phoebe has somebody- I thought I'd ask Fun Bobby." Monica explains gently to her brother as she takes a seat on the couch.

"Fun Bobby? Your ex-boyfriend Fun Bobby?" Chandler tilts his head.

"Yeah." She confirms.

(Y/N) looks at Chandler, "You know more than one Fun Bobby?"

"I happen to know a Fun Bob." Chandler justifies.

Rachel comes up from behind them all with a mug of coffee for Joey, "Okay, here we go..."

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh, there's no room for milk!" He complains.

Rachel glances at Joey and then at his coffee. She leans down and takes a large sip from the top. "There. Now there is." She shrugs.

"Okay, so on our no-date evening, three of you now have dates." Ross looks in between all of them, still upset about it.

"Uh, four." Joey adds.

"Four." Ross deflates.

"Five." Rachel chimes in.

"Five." Ross hides his head in his hands.

"Six." (Y/N) raises her hand. Taking a sip from Chandler's cup.

"Hey!" Chandler exclaims.

Truthfully, Chandler didn't mind (Y/N) taking a sip of his coffee. He found it slightly endearing. He actually really enjoyed her company due to the fact that both of them happen to be extremely sarcastic.

The brunette man furrows his eyebrows, just now processing what (Y/N) revealed. He pauses, "Wait, you have a date?" He asks her.

"Yes Mr. Bing." (Y/N) responds sarcastically. "Try to hide your shock please." She rolls her eyes.

"I-I didn't meant it like that. I was just interested in hearing you had a date considering two weeks ago you said you didn't plan on dating for awhile." He says, sipping his coffee awkwardly.

(Y/N) tilts her head, "Since when do you pay this close attention to what I say?"

Chandler shrugs, "I don't know..." He mumbles.

"I just can't believe everyone has a date but me." Ross leans back in his chair, crossing his arms to pout.

"Sorry. Paolo's catching an earlier flight."

"Yeah, and I met this really hot single mom at the store. What's an elf to do?" Joey shrugs.

"Yeah, and I met a cute guy at the grocery store when I was shopping for stuff to make my cheesecake." (Y/N) tells him sympathetically.

Ross looks up, "Is it your Oreo one?"

"Yes Ross." (Y/N) smiles.

"You're forgiven." He nods. "But the rest of you are not."

"Oh, c'mon. We'll have, we'll have a big party, and no-one'll know who's with who." Rachel tries to comfort him.

"Yeah, well I'll know. Hey, y'know, this is so not what I needed right now." Ross shakes his head.

"What's the matter?" Monica looks at him concerned.

"Oh, it's-it's Marcel. He's angry with me again. I have no idea why. He keeps shutting me out, y'know? He's walking around all the time dragging his hands..."

"That's so weird, I had such a blast with him the other night." Chandler says, moving his arm behind (Y/N), lightly touching her back. She furrows her eyebrows, but doesn't say anything.

"Really?" Ross looks at him, hurt evident on his face.

"Yeah, we played, we watched TV.. that juggling thing is amazing."

"What juggling thing?" Ross asks as his body begins to sag sadly.

"With the balled-up socks?" Chandler tells him. "I figured you taught him that."

"No." Ross frowns.

Chandler goes to continue once more, but (Y/N) puts her hand on his, "Just stop. You're making it worse." She whispers.

"Noted." He nods, keeping his mouth shut. He leans down to whisper since Phoebe's boyfriends friend walked in. "You know, you never told me what the name of your date was."

"You didn't ask." (Y/N) responds.

"Well, now I'm asking." He looks down at her, his eyes never leaving her figure.

"Well, if you're really that curious, his name is Wren." She whispers back to him.

He looks at her with a scrunched up face, "What the hell kind of a name is Wren?"

"A model name apparently." She responds smugly, taking his coffee from his hands, sipping it once more.

"He's a model?" Chandler looks at her, suddenly losing all confidence.

"Yeah. I figured he could give Joey some good contacts too. So, it's a win-win." She smiles, not noticing Chandler's change in demeanor.

"Yeah." He says grouchily. "Win-win."

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

     (Y/N) walks into Monica's apartment, she smiles at all of her friends as the part is in full swing. She watches as everyone begins to mingle and she makes her way over to the snack table. She places her Oreo cheesecake on the table and grabs her own plate, getting some of Rachel's artichoke dip in the process.

Before she could escape, Chandler and his date Janice come up to the table and the latter gets a big scoop of the same dip (Y/N) just got. "I love this artichoke thing!" She says boisterously and does her signature Janice laugh, making (Y/N)'s eyes go wide.

"(Y/N), you remember Janice." Chandler gives her a fake smile, clearly already annoyed with his date.

"Vividly." She replies with an even faker smile. "How are you?"

"Oh, I am fantastic! Now, you know what's totally amazing? It's just like we have been back together for...like what...like 10 minutes. And-"

"Is that all?" Chandler interrupts, making (Y/N) smirk.

"it's just like we were never apart.   Y'know I mean. Of course, we were... but forgive and forget. Well...forget." She laughs once more when a knock sounds at the door.

(Y/N) nods, and her eyes follow after Monica, begging to be saved. "Well Janice, lovely seeing you again, but Monica needs help... opening the door. So, catch you guys later." She rushes out and follows after her raven-haired friend.

Chandler watches as (Y/N) walks away, his eyes slowly looking over her body. He didn't really notice until now, but she looked absolutely stunning. The dress she was wearing fit her body perfectly. It hugged her in all the right places.

"Oh honey," Janice starts. "You've got a little drool on your chin." She laughs, wiping it off for him.

(Y/N) approaches Monica and a very disheveled Rachel.  She gasps at the sigh of her friend and the bruises that decorate her face. "Oh my gosh! Rachel, honey.. are you okay? Where-where's Paolo?" She asks as her and Monica pull her inside the apartment.

"Rome. Jerk missed his flight." She scoffs angrily.

"And then... your face is bloated?" Phoebe looks at her concerned.

"No. Okay. I was at the airport, getting into a cab, when this woman- this blonde planet with a pocketbook- starts yelling at me. Something about how it was her cab first. And then the next thing I know she just starts- starts pulling me out by my hair! So I'm blowing my attack whistle thingy and three more cabs show up, and as I'm going to get into a cab she tackles me. And I hit my head on the curb and cut my lip on my whistle." She stops and looks around, noticing everyone staring at her. "Oh, everybody having fun at the party?" She leans over to (Y/N) and Monica, "Are people eating my dip?"

(Y/N) and Monica nod as the (h/c) haired girl shows her the plate she has in her hand. Rachel smiles gratefully as Phoebe grabs Rachel's hand and escorts her into her room. (Y/N) huffs and goes over to sit next to Ross and Chandler who both seem to be sulking in the corner.

"What are you boys doing?" She asks with a glass of wine in her hand, sitting right next to Chandler.

"Hiding from Janice." Chandler whispers, peeking around the corner. "I haven't had a moment to breathe since I've been here."

"What did you expect?" (Y/N) chuckles. "It's Janice."

"Yeah." He huffs out, leaning his head against (Y/N)'s arm. She places her hand on his head, playing with his hair mindlessly. Chandler's eyes close as he enjoys the sensation of (Y/N)'s hands in his hair.

The two sit like that for a moment, just enjoying each others company. (Y/N) looks up from Chandler and notices Ross staring longingly at his monkey who seems to be ignoring him.

"You doing okay Ross?" She asks genuinely.

Ross sighs, "Look at him. I'm not saying he has to spend the whole evening with me, but at least check in." He pouts.

Before (Y/N) could respond a loud voice rings out, causing her and true two men to jump. "There you are! Haaah, you got away from me!" She says to Chandler, waking him from his almost peaceful slumber. Janice practically sits on his lap, making him look at her grumpily.

"But you found me!" He imitates her.

Janice looks over at (Y/N) and hands her a camera, "Here, (Y/N) , take our picture." (Y/N) reluctantly takes the camera and begins to snap photos. "Smile! You're on Janice Camera!"

"Kill me. Kill me now." Chandler looks at (Y/N) with pleading eyes.

The woman smiles and sends him a playful wink as she snaps another photo of the couple. "Keep smiling Chandler, you're on Janice camera." She says mockingly.

Another knock sounds through the house and Monica goes to look through the peephole. She smiles excitedly, "Hey everybody! It's Fun Bobby!"

Everyone cheers loudly as Monica opens the door. She goes to greet him cheerily but quickly notes the depressed look on his face. "Hey, sorry I'm late. But my, uh, grandfather, he- died about two hours ago. But I-I-I couldn't get a flight out 'til tomorrow, so here I am!"

Fun Bobby goes towards the couch and begins to talk about his grandfathers funeral. Janice grabs (Y/N)'a attention once more, forcing her to take more photos of her and Chandler.

(Y/N) dejectedly turns back around and comes face to face with Janice kissing Chandler. (Y/N) clenches her jaw jealously as she aggressively snaps a photo of the two kissing. Chandler notices (Y/N)'s posture become much more tense. He pulls away and sends (Y/N) a curious look.

"Oh, I'm gonna blow this one up, and I'm gonna write Reunited in glitter." Janice exclaims happily as she continues to try and maul Chandler's face.

(Y/N) scoffs under her breath and shakes her head. She goes to turn around but Chandler's voice stops her. "Alright, Janice, that's it! Janice... Janice... Hey, Janice, when I invited you to this party I didn't necessarily think that it meant that we-" He gestures between the two of them.

"Oh no. Oh no." The woman puts her hand up, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry you misunderstood..." Chandler trails off.

(Y/N) can't help but feel happy at the scene unfolding in front of her. She really did hate seeing Chandler with Janice. Or any female for that matter. Little did she know was that Chandler felt the exact same.

"Oh my God. You listen to me, Chandler, you listen to me. One of these times is just gonna be your last chance with me." Janice exclaims as she storms off.

(Y/N), not able to help herself, snaps a photo of Chandler being left on the spot. The man rolls his eyes, "Oh, will you give me the thing." He snatches the camera from her hands making her giggle at his irritation.

"So grouchy." (Y/N) teases as she begins to walk back over to the snack table, Chandler in tow.

"I know this sounds terrible," He starts. "But I am so happy she left." He breathes out relieved.

"You and me both." (Y/N) laughs. "I'm sorry, but her laugh drives me insane."

"You're not the only one." He answers with wide eyes.

"Hey, but at least she's gone now." (Y/N) smiles optimistically.

"And so is my chances of getting a kiss at midnight." He huffs, leaning back in his chair.

(Y/N) shakes her head at him, "Is that really all you're worried about?"

"Yeah, aren't you?" He queries. "Speaking of, I haven't seen your model man date." He tells her mockingly. "Did someone lie about having a date?"

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, and shows him a photo of the man, making his eyes widen at how beautiful he is. "That's not natural." Chandler shakes his head.

"But no, I didn't lie about having a date." (Y/N) stares at him. "He just bailed last minute. Said he took a job in LA at the Marc Jacobs show tomorrow morning so he had to fly out."

"Well, he's a jerk." Chandler states matter of factly. "Leaving you high and dry like that."

(Y/N) shrugs, "I'm not to broken up about it. Plus, I'm right where I wanna be." She smiles softly, squeezing Chandler's hand.

The man's heart leaps in his chest as the beautiful woman in front of him stares at him with her piercing (e/c) eyes. "Really? Sitting here, no date, with me." Chandler raises an eyebrow. "That's where you wanna be?"

"Why wouldn't I want to be here?" (Y/N) tilts her head. "I'd rather be here with you than anyone else."

(Y/N) glances over at the TV, "There's twenty seconds til midnight." She reveals.

"And the moment of joy is upon us." He smiles sarcastically.

(Y/N) listens as the group of people begin to count down. Ross, Monica, Rachel, Joey, and Phoebe seem to have formed their own little group in the other corner of the house. Everyone besides them seem to gather in their own little couples as they begin to count down.

3...

(Y/N) looks over at Chandler and stands up. The man looks at her with a confused look on his face. "What are you doing?"

"Get up." She commands.

2...

"What why?" He looks around rapidly, not understanding what's going on.

"Just get up." She repeats. "Trust me." She extends her hand out for him to take.

"Why do I have a feeling this isn't going to end well?" He asks warily.

"You tell me if it ends badly."

1...

"I don't understand-" Chandler furrows his eyebrows but is swiftly cut off by (Y/N) grabbing him by the collar and pulling him closer to her.

Happy New Year

(Y/N) smashes her lips onto Chandler's. The man sits in shock for a moment before settling into the kiss. He reciprocates her passion and continues kissing her happily. He grabs her waist and pulls her even closer than she was before. He digs his fingers into her side, causing her to gasp. He slips his tongue into her mouth smoothly and she sighs happily. Her hands shoot up into his hair, her thumbs rubbing the back of his head.

"Chandler's kissing (Y/N)!" Ross exclaims. "(Y/N)'s kissing Chandler!" He points over to the couple like a child catching his parents putting presents under the tree.

(Y/N) and Chandler reluctantly pull apart and both of them look over to their group of friends who are staring at them with blank faces. Chandler wraps his arm around (Y/N)'a waist.

"Well, Happy New Year everyone." He clears his throat. "But I think (Y/N) and I are gonna head back to her apartment."

(Y/N) nods rapidly, "Bye guys." She waves as the two frantically escape Monica's apartment, desperate to undress each other.

The group watches after them and Joey sighs, "It's about damn time." He exclaims.

Everyone nods and mumbles in agreement as they go back to the party. The tension between them has been palpable for awhile. It was truly only a matter of time.

Looks like the no date pact didn't do much good.

[cosmal]

oooh hurt comfort jamie requests!!! how about james with a reader who calls him in the middle of the night because she went out with friends (they’re not very good friends) and they left her and now she’s lost and maybe a little drunk and a lot upset and james is like ?? understandably very angry @ her friends but he sucks it up to go find her? maybe a lil comfort at the end where he tucks her into bed :’)

it’s okay if not though!!! thank you for sharing your writing with the world, you are so talented! <3

lost

summary you call james drunk and lost when your friends ditch you on a night out.

content james potter x fem!afab!reader

note this is kinda sucky sorry

James hikes himself up onto his elbow in the dark, the only light comes from his phone that's buzzing on his bedside.

He scrubs at his eyes that feel as dry as his mouth does and blindly reaches for his phone. He misses it the first time and almost drops it once more before he swipes to answer.

He assumes it's Sirius, like it usually is this time of the night, and grumbles a, "What the fuck do you want?"

When he doesn't get some smart-ass comment in reply, just the tiniest hint of a wet sniffle, he freezes in his awkward position.

"Hello?" he says in replacement of his harsh welcome. His voice is still gruff with sleep.

"James?"

He can just hear it, the small sound of a voice he knows just as well as his own.

"James," you hiccup this time.

"Sweetheart, you okay?" he frets. His arm aches for him to get off of it. It shakes under his weight.

"Sorry." Your voice is half a messed-up syllable away from a slur. "Sorry for waking you up but I don't know what else to do."

He sits up off his cramped arm to swing himself over the edge of the bed. "What's the matter?"

"I'm a little lost," you say. James gets up to look for his shoes before he knows what he's doing. "I was out with everybody and I'm not sure where they went." This time he thinks you're definitely crying. He freaks even more.

He wedges his phone between his shoulder and his ear to squeeze his shoes on. He ignores the laces and shoves them on until his fingers sting. He doesn't care because all he can think about is you drunk and lost on some random corner.

"Do you have any idea where you are?" he asks and ignores the anger that starts to swell in his stomach. This isn't the first time your friends have ditched you but he's sure it'll be the last.

"The Commercial Hotel," you ramble off. He can hear you trying to hold your breath to hold back your bouts of sobbing tears. He wants to find your friends and give them a mouthful but he'd rather you in his arms instead.

"Right, well stay there, sweetheart. Don't move, I'll be there as soon as possible," he promises, keeping the phone to his ear the whole time.

It takes James less than five minutes to get to the hotel. If he wasn't so worried about you, he'd call Sirius to brag. He pulls up and finds you up ahead in the gutter. He forgets about everything other than you.

You've got your head in your knees and you don't notice him. He catches where your sparkly dress is riding up your thighs and his stomach twists. He's thankful he got here when he did.

He crouches down and can hear your cries. "Sweetheart," he says. The ground is cold and it smells awful. He really wants you up and in his car.

You lift your head from your knees and sniffle. Your makeup is smudged and your lips are stained pink. You're an image, despite how upset you seem.

"Jamie." You try to crack a smile and fail. You really are happy to see him but the feeling of being abandoned overrules everything.

James encourages your face away from your shoulder and pushes his fingers into your hair. He wipes away the dampness from your cheeks with his palm and frowns. "Can you stand for me, lovely?"

"They left me," you mope, closing your eyes. The last of your tears drop down from your eyes and bunch your sticky eyelashes into triangles. James desperately wants to kiss them away.

"I know, angel. They're awful," he says and tries to keep the harsh tone from his words. You wrinkle your face because he's an awful tell.

"What does that say about me?" you mumble and try to pull your face from his hand. James stands and outstretches his arms for you to grab onto.

"Nothing," he grumbles, "You're nothing like them."

With shaky hands and even shakier legs, you let him help you onto your bare feet and try to ignore the spinning in your head and the tightness in your stomach.

You tip forward and James stables you with a hand on your shoulder and an arm around your back. "Hey," he says firmly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you say, biting down into your bottom lip, "Sorry. Just really wanna go home."

"C'mon, then, lovely," he smiles, bending down to pick your heels up where you'd thrown them into the gutter.

He straps you into the passenger seat of his car and worries for a moment you might throw up all over his dash. He finds a bottle of water in his footwell and puts it in your lap, hoping for the best.

The entire drive home, much longer than the way over, he can tell you're trying to talk to him. Trying your best to sound thankful for your helpful boyfriend when all you want to do is fall asleep.

When he manages to wrangle you into his bed. After you tripped in his driveway, and in his sitting room. He worried you were going to throw up twice before he changed you into a pair of pyjamas and got you under the covers with a bowl on floor.

You're almost asleep when you say, "Thank you, Jamie," quietly. Sheets pulled up to your chin.

"It's okay, sweetheart. Get some sleep, yeah?"

You manage to convince him to get into bed with you before he can even manage to make a bed on the floor. Almost sleeping until the sun comes up before your hangover ruins it for you.

[doyawalker]

Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind #6

chapter 5.

thank you for all the support on this series, it really means a lot <3 I hope everyone enjoys this extra-long chapter

contains swearing, smoking, alcohol consumption, and the mention of drugs.

chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 |

––

I Know That She Was Made For Me

Saturday came around quickly and after eating, doing some uni work, and going to the gym it was already time to get ready for the party Jungkook had invited you to.

You were currently sitting at your kitchen table, your makeup collection laid out in front of you, a small mirror before you on the table when Taehyung walked into the room. 

Stopping in his tracks, he observed you for a second before walking around the table and sitting down in front of you.

“May I ask what’s wrong with the table in your room? We eat on this table, you know that?” 

You threw him an annoyed look, not paying him much mind. 

“The lightning is better here.”, you mumbled, concentrating on filling in your eyebrows perfectly.

He scoffed, leaning over the table and taking a closer look at your face.

Irritated by him, you pulled back a bit, frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Just checking if you’re doing a good job.”, he commented, his eyes inspecting your face thoroughly. 

“Fuck off.”, you chuckled, putting your index finger to his forehead and pushing him back onto his chair. He gave you a wide grin, holding his thumb up.

“Looks good.”

You smiled at him, before focusing on your mascara, making sure to coat every lash multiple times. 

You sat in silence for a bit, as he started to scroll through his phone and you finished off your look, but it wasn’t awkward.

Actually, since you opened up to him a bit and finally shared something personal, you felt more connected to him. As if there had been a wall between the two of you, which was now slowly beginning to crumble. He felt more trustworthy to you and you respected that. Maybe one day you could be more than just roommates and start becoming actual friends.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”, you finally said, starting to pack up your stuff back into your makeup bag.

He looked up from his phone, humming in approval.

“Sure. What’s up?”

You hesitated for a second, biting your bottom lip. 

Crossing your arms before you on the table, you leaned closer to him, focusing your gaze on him.

“What do you think of Jungkook?” He eyed you for a second.

“You mean in general, or in the context of what he is doing right now to you?”

“Both.”

He sucked some air in through his teeth, leaning back in his chair, folding his hands before him on the table.

You had wanted to ask about his opinion since Thursday evening but hadn’t really found the right time for it. Now it was around 7 PM, enough time to chat before you had to leave to pick up Sori.

“I don’t know, to be honest, I never really spent much time with him but I heard some stories.”

“Like what?”

One of his hands came up to his mouth, his index finger starting to tap against his lip rhythmically.

“I don’t know if you really want to hear them.”, he said, his eyes gliding back onto you. 

“Tae. Just tell me.”

Sighing, he shifted in his seat, looking somewhat uncomfortable. 

“Fine. There are multiple rumors. For one, I heard that ever since his high school years he fucked around a lot. Like a lot, a lot. New girl every weekend, collecting them like prizes and bragging about them to his friends.”

You gulped quietly. Sounded somewhat familiar.

“Then he apparently had a phase where he tried to settle down, having a few relationships here and there, but none of them ever seemed to work. Except for Lou. I think they have been together for around one and a half years. Something like that.”

Lou. Your former best friend, the girl that had sat with you in your car, listened to you cry about him, telling you how bad of a man he is, only to meet with him the next day and chill at his house because “they were such good friends” and she “couldn’t choose between the two of you”. Although she had known him for what, like six months at that time, while you and she had been best friends since early middle school. 

“And then after Lou, the stories kind of don’t make sense. Some are saying he’s back to fucking random girls to fix his broken heart, others are saying he is staying away from girls completely because he is not over Lou yet. She broke up with him after all and he apparently didn’t take it very well.”

Something about knowing that he had been hurting over Lou, made your chest sting. 

You remembered the self-doubt after hearing the news about him and Lou being together. What did she have that you didn’t? What had made him choose her over you? Had you not been good enough? Even though you had given him your all?

You had quickly learned that asking those questions was useless, only further deepening your insecurities and it wasn’t like you would ever get an answer to them, so why bother?

But hearing that he had cared about Lou so much, the way that you had cared for him and that you had wished he would have cared about you, was still hurting you. Even now.

“But I don’t know. It all doesn’t make a lot of sense. If you ask me, I would stay far away from him. He’s trouble.”, Taehyung concluded, shifting his focus back on you. 

You must’ve looked a bit bleak because as he looked at you, a sympathetic smile crossed his features.

“But that’s what we’re doing tonight, right? Making sure that he understands that you have no interest in him anymore.”

You shrugged your shoulders.

“I still don’t know if this is really going to work. He is very persistent.”

“Anybody would get tired after basically talking to a wall every time. You just have to make sure that you are giving him absolutely no signs of being interested. Otherwise, he will feed on that. Like a little rat.”

He grinned at his joke, his face distorting in a grimace.

“Got it, Boss."

You chuckled, getting up from your seat to bring your stuff back into your room and getting dressed. 

“Oh, and Tahyung?”, you said, turning around in your doorframe to look back at him. “Next time you will tell me about your heartbreak story.”

About an hour later you were sitting in Taehyung’s Mercedes, wearing your tight, little black dress, your hair straightened, and your makeup accentuating your features perfectly. You felt confident in your skin. Hopefully, it would stay that way.

Tapping away on your phone, you sent Sori a message that the two of you were on your way to pick her up.

Nervousness was making its way down to your stomach, your mind already racing with thoughts about the possibilities of how this night could end. 

Taking a deep breath in, you caught Taehyung’s eyes on you, as he smiled reassuringly.

“Chill out. We’re just gonna have some fun tonight.”, he said, steering the car with one hand, while the other rested in his lap.

“Do I look nervous?” 

You bit your lip, running your fingers through your hair to comb it straight.

He chuckled slightly, navigating around the next corner before looking back at you.

“A bit maybe. Nothing a good drink can’t fix tho.”

You sighed, resting your hands on top of your legs to keep them away from nitpicking your face or hair. 

Relax, girl.

You were turning into Sori’s street, your friend already waiting in front of her building to be picked up. She was holding a big plastic bottle, which seemed to be filled with a mixture of vodka and orange juice, your pre-game drink of choice, her face lighting up with a big smile as she recognized Tae’s car. 

Stopping right in front of her, she opened the back door of his car, slipping into the backseat, her bright, bubbly mood immediately filling the space. 

“Hello guys.”, she shrieked. “Who wants to drink?”

Shaking the bottle in her hand wildly, you laughed, turning around to her in your seat.

“How much did you pre-drink without us, hm?”

The drive to Jin and Hoseok’s house was filled with loud music, your and Sori’s laughter, the back and forth of the vodka-orange, and sometimes Taehyung’s sighing as he realized what he had gotten himself into.

Your nervous mood has disappeared, thoughts drifting away from Jungkook and instead focusing on the familiar, warm feeling of the alcohol running down your throat.

Singing at the top of your lungs to Katy Perry’s “The One That Got Away”, Tae finally maneuvered the car onto a big, public parking space somewhere in the middle of a suburban part of the city you probably had never been to before. Killing the engine, he gave you two a somewhat judging look, earning himself a hit on his forearm from both of you.

“Don’t be such a mood-killer, just ‘cause you can’t drink tonight.”, you whined, unbuckling your seatbelt and opening the car door, enjoying the refreshing air that was hitting your bare legs. 

You were already feeling warm and fuzzy from the alcohol.

“I’m not a mood-killer, I just need to adjust to…this.”, he commented, his hand gesturing toward you and Sori. 

You rolled your eyes at him, slamming the car door shut a bit harsher than necessary.

Interlocking your arms in Sori’s, you took a look around the parking lot, trying to find some orientation.

“Where do we need to go?”, you asked, your eyes involuntarily wandering over the other cars parked around you.

It didn’t take long to spot his BMW. 

So he was already there. 

Taking a deep breath in, you didn’t allow your anxiety to creep back into your mind, forcing any thought about him to the side.

You wanted to have fun, besides the little plan, the three of you had come up with.

Speaking of that…

Tae was leading you off the parking lot, and down the street towards a more exclusive-looking housing complex that was a bit more sealed off from the rest of the houses lining the street. 

As you approached the expensive-looking building, you could hear the first tunes of some rap music filling the air.

“So, guys. The plan.”, you started, exchanging a look with Sori. “I go with Taehyung. I stay with Taehyung the whole evening. We flirt a little, act a little couple-y, Jungkook sees us and finally leaves me alone, because…bro code? Correct?”

Besides you, Sori started to giggle, giving you a big thumbs up.

“Correct, sir. He’ll get the message, don’t worry.”

“Well, in that case…”, you said, detaching yourself from her and walking over to Taehyung’s side to intertwine yourself with him instead. “You’re not getting rid of me so easily tonight.”

His face twisted in a grimace, but you saw the smile flashing underneath it. He had been the one who had finally convinced you of this plan after all. And after hearing his judgment about Jungkook, it sounded like he wasn’t too opposed to the idea of getting one over on him. 

The house of the party was finally coming into your eyesight as you turned around the next corner and were now walking directly towards it.

It was a white, three-story house with a huge garden surrounding it. The garden was full of planted bushes, flowers, and a small fountain, stuff that only rich people were willing to pay enough for to be taken care of. The entrance of the house was built under a big canopy, which was supported by two stone pillars on each side. Golden details were lining the ridiculously massive front door and you have never felt so out of place at a college party before. 

“What the fuck? This is some serious kind of money.”, you murmured to Taehyung, who seemed pretty unimpressed by the whole scenery. He must have been here often already.

“Wait until you see the party room in the basement.”, he said amused, his hand squeezing your arm somewhat reassuringly. 

Sori on the other hand was fitting into this kind of setting perfectly. There were a few groups of people scattered around the entrance and she immediately spotted someone she knew, leaving you and Tae behind as he ran towards them to greet them. She was such an extrovert, she always knew someone somewhere from some time. You could’ve sworn that you heard her pretty laugh echo through the whole neighborhood. 

“Come on, let’s go. Let’s get you something to drink.”

Showing you another grin, Taehyung was leading you into the house, the ground floor already buzzing with people, the loud bass of the music drumming in your stomach. Not letting go of your arm, he guided you through the crowd, leaving the living room behind and walking through the archway that led to the kitchen.

The house was looking even more expensive inside than on the outside, from what you could see. The rooms were huge with gold features hidden everywhere, ridiculously big furniture, chandeliers, and a table that could fit up to sixteen people. Yes, you’ve counted the chairs. They were playing beer pong on it. As impressive as it was, this wasn’t really helping to keep your anxiety at bay, as you felt like the biggest outcast, compared to many other attendees of this party. You saw perfectly waved hair, designer dresses, and glasses full of champagne. The expensive one. 

“What kind of students are these, geez.”, you commented, as Tae let go of you to open the steel gray, double-doored fridge. 

“Mostly business and economics, I believe.”

Taking out a bottle of Bombay Sapphire Gin and some Tonic Water, he turned to look at you, both bottles in his hands. 

“Gin Tonic?” 

“Sure.” 

You eagerly watched him grab a cocktail glass from some of the cabinets, filling it with your drink of choice, unsure what to do with yourself when you weren’t talking to him. God, you felt awkward.

The kitchen was less crowded than the living room with only a couple of people chatting or filling their cups back up with beer or straight vodka as you saw one dude do. They didn’t seem familiar to you, so you made sure to keep your distance.

“There you go.”, Tae finally said, handing you your glass with a proud grin. 

“This better be good. I could need it.”, you commented, thanking him with a smile. 

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

He intertwined his arm back with yours, as you made your way back into the living room. Sipping on your drink, you let your eyes wander across the groups of people, looking for one particular guest, but he didn’t seem to be in the living room. 

However, Sori stumbled back to your side, a half-emptied cup in her hand which she had gotten from god knows where, a wide smile plastered on her face.

“Helloo, guys.”, she yelled. “How’s the plan going?”

“I haven’t seen him yet.”, you said, shrugging your shoulders.

“He’s probably outside on the terrace.”, Tae remarked, imitating the movement of smoking a cigarette and nodding towards the glass door that leads outside to the other side of the garden behind the house.

“Then what are you waiting for? Go.”, Sori demanded, her hand laying on your back, pushing you forward. 

You stumbled a bit, glaring back at her. 

“Can I at least finish my drink first?”

“No, let’s go.”

She pushed you through the crowd, not caring about your wild protesting until the three of you reached the already open door that led out into the garden. This side of it was even more impressive, with a giant pool lining the grass, multiple seating options, huge glass tables, and a grilling station even Gordon Ramsey would be jealous of. 

And amidst one of the groups that had formed outside on the terrace, he sat at one of the tables, a cigarette in between his fingers, a red cup in his other hand. Scattered in front of him on the table were Uno cards and as your trio stepped out into the cold air, he looked away from the guy next to him he had been talking to, his eyes immediately finding yours. 

And that night, his gaze felt like it burned itself into your skin, roaming your body, your hair, your face, an unreadable expression set on his handsome face. 

His hair was in curls again, falling over his forehead perfectly, and he was wearing a tight, black long-sleeve, accentuating the muscles in his arms just right. 

And as Sori kept on pushing you forwards because your feet suddenly refused to move on their own, Jungkook’s eyes started to wander back and forth between you and Taehyung, who was still on your side, his arm now carefully draped around your shoulders. 

Fuck.

Your gut was starting to yell at you to get away from him, something feeling very wrong about the whole situation, but before you could even realize it, Sori had forced you onto one of the empty chairs left at the table and there you were, sitting diagonally across from him, Taehyung’s hand now resting on top of your thigh. 

“Tae, dude. I was wondering when you would finally show up.” 

One of the other guys sitting at the table leaned over the table toward you, slapping Taehyung’s free hand. A few other guys joined the greeting and you soon learned that they were Jin and Hoseok, the hosts of this crazy party, as well as Jimin, Namjoon, and Yoongi, apparently some other friends of his. Yoongi and Jimin were currently sharing a joint, their eyelids heavily hooded as they introduced themselves to you. 

And then there was the only one who hadn’t said a word yet. Jungkook. 

His eyes were still lingering on you and Taehyung, his face not giving away any of his thoughts, his expressions stoic. 

“JK, what’s with the bad mood?”, Hoseok exclaimed, his hand slapping down on Jungkook’s shoulder, before he grabbed both of them, shaking his friend slightly from side to side.

Finally, Jungkook’s eyes averted from you, giving you the chance to take a deep breath in, Taehyung’s hand in your lap squeezing your leg reassuringly. 

Taking a few more sips from your glass, you looked over to Sori, who was sitting beside you, already involved in a conversation with Namjoon and you wished you had her social skills because she fit into the group so easily. 

Feeling awkward, you focused on finishing your drink, making sure that your eyes stayed away from Jungkook’s direction and it wasn’t until you finished your second drink and Jin proposed to play Uno that you finally felt your body relax, the alcohol doing its job and you eventually started to enjoy the evening. 

“Oh, fuck off.”, you shouted out with a laugh as Taehyung laid down his last card, turning to you with a devilish grin on his face. “Better luck next time, loser.”, he said, leaning back in his chair, obviously content with his gameplay, despite the fact that he finished in third place after Jin and Hoseok.

Hitting his arm, you glared at him under your lashes, internally cursing at your bad cards because now it was only you and Jungkook left in the game. 

He hadn’t said a single word to you yet, obviously aware that you were avoiding him and you weren’t mad about that. 

But now your eyes met briefly as you went on into the final round of the game and maybe it was the alcohol, but as he looked at you something deep in your stomach started to flutter. 

He laid down a green five, which you countered with a blue five and he had to draw a new card. Playing out a few of your cards, it looked good for you, until he suddenly placed down a draw-four card. 

You scoffed, your gaze back on him and finally, there was some emotion on his face. A grin. His usual confident grin, as he tilted his head to the side, his eyes challenging you. 

Sighing, you drew four cards, already accepting your defeat, when all of a sudden a loud shriek echoed through the garden. 

You, and everyone else, turned around, as a petite, blonde girl was running toward your table, a skin-tight, blue dress hugging her figure in all the right places.

“Hi, Kook!”, she exclaimed happily as she reached your group, walking around the table and throwing her arms around Jungkook’s neck. 

An almost awkward silence settled around the table as everyone stared at her, Jungkook’s eyes leaving your face and looking over his shoulder back at the unknown girl.

And that was when the sudden sting pierced through your heart and your body fell back against your chair. 

Because it looked so painfully familiar to seeing him like this with Lou and although you knew it wasn’t your place anymore to feel like this, you couldn’t help it. It was like an old wound that had been stitched together years ago was very slowly being ripped open again, making your heart drop into the bottom of your stomach, the alcohol now not feeling warm and pleasant anymore, but rather making you want to throw up. 

Carelessly, you threw your cards on the table, giving Tae an apologetic look before you almost jumped up from your seat, fleeing the scene maybe a little too hectic, but you didn’t care. 

Pushing yourself through the crowd in the living room, your eyes settled on the stairs that led to the upper floor, and without thinking twice you fled upstairs. 

Avoiding the rooms that had obvious making out or moaning sounds emitting from them, you searched for the bathroom, opening several doors but were either met with the darkness of an empty guest room or the shocked faces of people doing drugs or fucking. 

Sighing, you closed yet another door, turning around to continue your search, when you suddenly walked into a wall. A human wall. 

Stumbling backward, you cursed at whoever was standing in your way, until your eyes settled on his face. 

Of course, it had to be him. 

The words got stuck in your throat, as you stared at him perplexed, his eyes burning themselves into yours. 

Something seemed different about him. You saw the way his jaw clenched, his lips slightly pressed together, the color of his eyes darker than usual. 

He didn’t say a word at first, just taking in your appearance, before finally taking a step closer to you and then another, making you step back until your back hit the wall behind you. 

His scent filled your nose, mixed with cigarettes and vodka and it made your head spin, as your heart started to beat faster, your mind going absolutely blank at his sudden proximity. 

And then he spoke.

“I was wondering when I could finally meet you alone tonight.”

__

[eryiss]

[Fraxus] Multifaceted- Part 3

Or: The 5 Times Laxus Learned of a New Skill Freed Possessed, & The 1 Time He Fell Victim To Them

Summary: For the rest of the world, it had been seven years. For the members of Fairy Tail it had all been in the blink of an eye. But, for Laxus, that was more than enough time for his closest friend to seem like an entirely new person. This self assured, competent Freed was something new to Laxus, and he found himself enjoying it. Perhaps a little too much… Note: Chapter Three, perhaps the most self indulgent of them all. If you want to see Freed's performance, it’s inspired by This Video. Hope you enjoy.

Links: Ao3, Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

3: Dancing

"I can dance, if that helps."

Freed had said it so impassively that the team had almost dismissed it. They knew Freed could dance - he'd been the only one able to lead Erza in a waltz after all - but there was a difference between holding your own in a ballroom and contending with the cast of the Royal Fiore Ballet Society.

Laxus almost had ignored him, but the words lingered. Freed was a cocky son of a bitch at times, but he did know his skills and wasn't the type to brag needlessly when a mission was involved. If he had mentioned it during planning, then he had a reason.

The guild had been contacted by the Ballet Society. Their chairman had been sent a slew of threats by a supposed auditionee who had been rejected and wanted revenge. Initially the society had dismissed them, but the threats started to become more and more specific, and had been narrowed down to one specific night. Apparently on the final night of its first week, the show would 'suffer something it would never come back from'. Fairy Tail had taken the job, and the Raijinshuu had been tasked with keeping the piece on the night.

Bickslow was patrolling the theatre, acting as one of their security. Laxus and Evergreen were playing the rich, young couple on a night out. Freed was on stage. Dancing.

"You look nervous," Ever commented, leaning in as if sharing a quiet flirtation. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Laxus dismissed.

"Tell me," Evergreen pushed, looking over the small bar they'd been directed to before the show began.

"Forget it," Laxus tried again, and Ever's glare cowed him. "It's just, this sounds so stupid, but I'm nervous for him. I want him to do well. Don't want him to mess up."

"I get that. But he'll be fine; they made him audition, had him rehearse for five weeks, and gave him the most complex role in the show. They're confident he's good," Ever slipped a finger into the buttons of Laxus' tux, tugging him closer and pecking a kiss on his lips. It wasn't the first time they'd kissed during a mission - often they played the couple when needed - but it always felt weird. She then moved to press a kiss to his jaw, which was followed by a whisper. "But he better not be too good; lord knows you don't need anything else to moon over."

"What's that mean?" Laxus demanded, pulling back.

"'Oh, he's such a good chef. He cooks for me every night. He could work in any restaurant in the city.' Blah," she forced a wince, but the mischief in her eyes shone. "And then of course there's the lightning bolt you won't let out of your sight. Except on missions. Where d'you put it again? In a safe deposit box?"

"The bedside table," Laxus grunted.

"Ah yes, the bedside table you share with Freed, which I suspect is next to the bed you share with Freed."

"We don't share it that way. We alternate."

"For now," Evergreen teased.

Laxus didn't have a response to that, for two reasons. One - the main one really - was that the small bell rang and they were called to take their seats. The second reason was that, if he kept up this conversation, he might let it slip where his crochet actually was. Because, rather than tucking it away in the bedside table, he'd taken it on the job and bashfully handed it to Freed, pathetically explaining that maybe it would bring him some luck.

Dammit, Freed had smiled at him and taken it. Why the hell was he smiling so much since they got back? He had to know what it did to the people who saw it. The squirmy, messy feeling that it evoked. He was doing it on purpose, just to mess with people. Sadistic bastard!

Once seated, the show took a little while to start up, and Freed did not show up for the first act. This was expected. His role, though technically demanding, was only in one scene. It worked well for the mission, allowing Freed to have a near uninhibited run of the backstage without having to flitter between being on stage and not. His role was also seen as one of the most important parts in the show, and likely when an attack might take place, so he would be in the middle of things should they go wrong. It had worked out rather well.

Laxus had almost relaxed into his mission mindset, looking anywhere and everywhere for signs of attack, by the time Freed showed up. When he did, Laxus' jaw almost dropped.

Freed looked magnificent. Insane, yet magnificent.

The show was Alice in Wonderland, and Freed played the Mad Hatter. In a pastel shaded suit and tailcoat, and a ramshackled tophat, he sprung from behind a curtain, twirling the hat around. His hair had been dyed: green turned to white, which turned to a shower of faded pink. His expressions were that of a constrained, manic madness. His movements were fluid yet sharp, well practised and perfected.

With every fast step, the soles of his shoes rang through the theatre in sharp taps. The dance was a blending of ballet and tap, something even the best of dancers struggled with, and Freed made it look easy.

Oh, god. The way he moved his hips, without warning nor need. Could he always move like this? Was the mad hatter meant to be a seductive character? Surely not.

The dance moved on faster than Laxus could take it in. There were three other dancers on stage alongside Freed, and yet Laxus couldn't take his eyes off him, no matter who the focus was meant to be on. He was just so majestic. So relentless. So good.

He spun another dancer around, holding her far too close then letting her slide below his legs. Then he spun her away and was on his own again. Another dancer took hold of him, and in a moment his leg was extended so high that his foot was above his head, Laxus shifted in his seat. Freed was flexible enough to make that look simple, and Laxus felt the slightest stirring at that revelation.

Dammit, did they have to make the pants so snug? Laxus could see where his thick thighs ended and the curve of his ass began anytime the tails of the coat flew up.

Far too soon, it was only him on stage. With the spotlight on him and the music nearing its conclusion, he spun on his foot, managing at least ten twirls in three seconds. His tailcoat and his hair swirled around him, beautiful and magical. He was a seductive lure as the song reached crescendo. He struck a pose, then left the stage with exaggerated movements entirely in character for the person he'd been playing.

"Wow," Evergreen whispered.

"Damn," Laxus agreed, because no other words came to mind.

——

Laxus met Freed at the stage door, after the rest of the cast had gone.

The mission had been a success, even if Laxus had entirely forgotten about it the moment Freed had stepped on stage. Thankfully, Bickslow had managed to remain professional, hunted down the wannabe attacker, hypnotised him before he could do anything, and marched him off to the local police station and forced him to confess. All this had been explained in a Lacrima message, which ended with an instruction to enjoy the rest of the show. Laxus and Ever had done so, and once it had been done, Ever promised to sort everything out so Laxus could meet up with Freed.

Well, she'd actually said she'd done it so Laxus could 'pathetically moon over Freed like a love stick moron' in person, but Laxus had resolutely ignored that and took the excuse to offer congratulations to his friend.

Freed had been magnificent. There were no other words. After Freed's dance, Laxus had taken more care in watching the rest of the show, and it was filled with flawless performers. Freed hadn't once felt out of place. He had earned his place in the show even if he hadn't obtained it in typical means.

"Oh," Freed halted slightly as he left the building and saw Laxus waiting for him. "I expected you'd be gone by now."

"You kidding me?" Laxus scoffed, then looked Freed up and down. He was in more normal clothes, and if it weren't for his still dyed hair, he'd look no different than normal. But Laxus saw an almost entirely different man. A man who had always been there, but laxus hadn't seen. Or hadn't been looking for. "Freed, that was…"

"I was out of time once or twice, and my leg work was sloppy for the first thirty or so seconds," Freed filled the gap Laxus' wordlessness had caused. "I could blame it on being vigilant of the crowd, but I just lost the beat."

"Freed you were fuckin' incredible," Laxus snapped. "You had five weeks to train and you held your own against people who've worked their whole lives for this. Be arrogant about this. You deserve it."

Freed smiled a little. "They did make a comment that they might contact me should their regular Hatter actually fall ill. Jesting, I'm sure."

Laxus was no judge of dance skill, but he had a feeling that wasn't a joke as much as it was them trying to suss out Freed's reaction to the chance of dancing more often. "If they call you, say yes," He demanded, and Freed laughed. "Promise me."

"Laxus-"

"Promise me, asshole. You clearly enjoyed doing it, and they'd be lucky to have you, so promise me."

"Fine, if the most prestigious dance company in the country wants my help, I'll do it."

"Good, I'm gonna hold you to that," Laxus huffed slightly, then jerked his head towards the Main Street. Freed dutifully walked the few steps down so he was side by side with Laxus. They walked for about three minutes before Laxus halted and glared at Freed. "I mean, when the hell are you gonna tell me how you know how to do any of that? Because it's been nearly two months and I'm starting to get pissy that I don't know."

"That only makes me more inclined not to tell you," Freed hummed. Laxus didn't let his glare up, and Freed averted his gaze. "You left your headphones when you were removed from the guild. They were at my house, I don't remember why. I had a lot of time alone - I didn't take jobs in the early days; I felt like I was taking them from more serving people, you see - so I started to listen to the songs you had saved. I had a lot of energy as I wasn't working, and one way to get it out was to listen to some music and start dancing. There was no skill to it, of course. I'm not going to pretend bobbing around the house led to that," he gestured to the theatre. "But, I enjoyed moving in that way, and found a few books on dancing, and started to practise."

"You're telling me that you can go toe to toe with the most talented people in their field because you read a couple of books on dancing?" Laxus laughed, because with anyone else that would be as ridiculous as it sounded.

"I've always been fastidious with reading," Freed shrugged. "Although, the five weeks of intensive training might have helped, just a smidge."

"You think?"

"As I say, just a smidge," Freed smiled, and Laxus pushed him to the side. Freed staggered slightly, but it was all too easy to pair the laughing man beside him with the dance aficionado from earlier.

"You're one of a kind Freed," Laxus said as he wrapped an arm around Freed's shoulders. Freed let him. "One of a fucking kind."

[putschki1969]

hi puts. i wanna ask what Keiko and Hikaru's reaction to questions about Wakana. Like maybe when someone asked Keiko when she would invite Wakana for a birthday or something. or maybe someone pointed out the absence of Wakana in their social media. did they hint anything in their responses? did they just ignore? i don't follow u so idk if u hv talk about this before.

Hello there!

First of all, I would like to say that if you are truly interested in this sort of stuff, you should actually make an effort and follow this account. I regularly share news and talk about topics like this. If you want to stay up to date regarding anything related to Kalafina, there is really no other place that is a better source of information. And I am not saying that to brag, I'm saying it because it is the truth.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get to your question.

As a general rule, Keiko and Hikaru do not talk about Wakana on their official social media outlets. The same applies to Wakana by the way. Those public social media accounts/channels are created for work purposes and they are at least partially controlled by management. It's expected of artists to not respond to any comments regardless of the topic. In case of an official Q&A project (as part of an official broadcast or video release), questions pertaining to Wakana, the disbandment or other tricky things are probably just filtered out during the pre-selection process.

It's different in more restricted or private settings. Keiko has been known to answer questions about Wakana in her Instagram Lives. There's never any awkwardness, let alone animosity, quite the contrary actually, Keiko is always very casual about it and fondly refers to Wakana as Wa-chan. For me it sounds as if they are still very close. Of course you have to keep in mind that fans are usually respectful enough to ask light and shallow questions as to not cause any inconvenience. And if there happen to be invasive questions, I guess Keiko just ignores them and moves on to something else.

Hikaru is a bit more reserved and work-oriented, she typically tries her best to wriggle out of any uncomfortable or possibly problematic topics. That's not to say that she hasn't mentioned Wakana here and there. I am unfortunately not able to watch all of her weekly live streams on Music Champ but I try to tune in regularly and from what I can tell, she occasionally mentions Wakana, especially in relation to Kalafina. While I wouldn't say that Hikaru expresses a lot of fondness for Wakana (as Keiko does), she certainly conveys a deep sense of reverence towards Wakana (regarding not only their past together but also Wakana's solo activities).

Having said all that, you have to come to terms with the fact that one thing you will never get from any of them is a straight-forward statement on the situation. The Japanese are masters at window dressing and obfuscation. Will they ever address why exactly there is no public interaction between them? Not any time soon. Will they ever talk about the possible restrictions, regulations or stipulations they have to adhere to? Very unlikely. Will they ever explicitly confirm or deny a future reunion or collaboration? Certainly not as long as Wakana is still with Space Craft.

We have to make peace with the fact that we are currently living off of breadcrumbs. Many of these instances aren't even recorded so there's often nothing concrete to base our faith on...

[lailyn]

Sharing Is Scaring

A Frostshield Hurt/Comfort Christmas Fic.

“Are you alright? You are wearing an expression one can only describe as…” Loki tried to think of a kinder word but was unsuccessful. “Constipated.”

"Ouch." Steve winced. His waistband dug painfully into his gut, which was becoming more and more bloated with each passing minute. “I may have overindulged a bit.”

“I thought you had a cast-iron stomach,” Loki teased. 

“Not against Tony’s cooking, it isn’t,” Steve grunted. “I swear the guy still has a grudge against me.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “Sure. Because his special, family-recipe manicotti makes such a lethal weapon that you couldn’t help having seconds.” 

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Steve muttered. He sighed and squirmed and sighed again.

“You didn’t take your Lactaid, did you?” Loki asked knowingly.

“It slipped my mind,” Steve said sheepishly. “Guess I was too distracted tonight.”

“By what?”

“Whom,” Steve corrected. “You look amazing, by the way. You’ve got good taste.”

Loki snorted fondly as he ran a hand down the Christmas sweater he had decided to permanently borrow from Steve. "I’m sure that’s humble bragging, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile; the soft green wool highlighted the gold flecks in Loki’s eyes, and the ruby neckline his cheeks, made ruddy by the many, many aperitifs Loki must have sneaked in before dinner. 

“Make way for your dazzling host!” Their host breezed past with an armful of snacks and drinks. “Settle down, you two. The movie’s about to start.”

Tony unburdened his load of indulgences onto the coffee table. A bottle of wine tumbled onto the floor and rolled under the couch where Loki and Steve had been comfortably ensconced for the past half hour. “Do you mind getting that for me?”

“What are we watching? Wait, let me guess.” Thor did not have to think very hard, for the choices for good Midgardian entertainment were few and far between. “Die Hard?”

“You guessed right, sweet cheeks.” Tony said.

A collective groan rose; curiously, but not surprisingly, the sound that emanated from Steve was one of discomfort, instead of dismay like the others. 

“Hey, it's either that or Baby’s Day Out!” Tony pointed at Loki and Steve. “And I don’t want those two lovebirds getting any ideas!”

Red-faced, Steve placed the bottle of wine he had painstakingly retrieved back on the table. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Tony.” 

Loki only smiled a beatific smile, and snuggled just a little deeper into Steve’s side. “Everything comes from an idea.”

His smile faded slightly when he felt Steve stiffen. Before Loki could probe further, the clamour of protests around him grew.  

“Oh come on, there must be hundreds of movies you can choose from!” Natasha exclaimed in exasperation.

“We’re doing things the traditional way this year. That means no cable, no satellite TV, and definitely no streaming."

“Not DVDs!” Bruce groaned. “Tony, we are living in the digital world, you do know that, right?”

“Not even digital, people,” Tony said mischievously as he waved something glinting in the air. “Think older. Think analog.”

“That’s crazy.” Bruce plucked the laser disc out of Tony’s hand, unable to contain his excitement. “I haven’t seen one of these in ages!”

The good-natured protests died down eventually and everybody, as tradition would have it, made the same comments they made every year.

"Hey, ever noticed how Bruce Willis' shirt's blood-spattered one second, clean the next?"

"Continuity's not really that important, Tony."

"The hell it isn't. My fantastic brain's not good at ignoring all these gaffes - "

"Then maybe we should have watched something fun and mindless. The Holiday, Bridget Jones, Love Actually..."

"Oh, don't get me started on Love Actually."

Throughout all the chatter, Steve remained very quiet. The pain in his stomach had grown steadily worse as the night progressed, and halfway into the movie, he was positively sweating.

As if sensing his discomfort, Loki slipped a hand underneath Steve’s shirt and began to rub his stomach in slow, circular motions. 

“You are very warm,” Loki commented, eyebrows knitted in concern.

“It’s really hot in here,” was all Steve could say. Moments later, he felt the first, tell-tale tingle of Loki’s magic burn his skin.

“It’s okay, Loki.” He gently peeled Loki’s fingers off his tender abdomen. “You don’t have to do that.”

“It goes without saying that everyone wants to enjoy their Christmas presents,” Loki murmured. “And you…” He leaned in to whisper in Steve’s ear, “ - are mine.” 

Delighted at seeing Steve shudder, Loki merrily added. “I want to enjoy my Christmas, Captain. So, by hook or by crook, I will have you in tip-top shape tonight.”

“But you’ll be taking on my pain. I don’t see how that’s any fun,” Steve whispered back.

“I think I can handle a little tummy ache, Steve,” Loki said dryly. “I’ve taken on far more dire maladies than that.”

“Alright,” Steve finally relented, albeit not without heavy reluctance. “But only if you’re really sure it won’t hurt you.”

“It won’t,” Loki promised. “Now relax and let me work.”

The potency of Loki’s spells never ceased to impress, and the sharp pangs in Steve’s stomach eased within seconds.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Loki said lightly. “Maybe next time you’ll remember to take your medicine. Or was it your intention all along to distract me from Alan Rickman?”

Steve laughed, and dropped a playful peck on Loki’s temple. “You caught me.”

Now that he was finally rid of all his aches and pains, Steve settled in to enjoy the movie,  but it was evident before long that Loki did not share his enthusiasm.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked after catching Loki fidgeting for the hundredth time. He did a double take when he noticed Loki’s pallor. “You look pale.”

Loki’s smile was tight and wan. “I’m always pale, or so you people keep telling me.”

Steve frowned. There was something in the tone of Loki’s voice that did not sit well with him. “Is something wrong?”

Loki may be the God of Lies but he had long lost the ability to school his expressions around Steve.

“I am in terrible pain,” Loki admitted, suddenly out of breath. “I don’t know why. How are you feeling?”

“Me? I’m fine, thanks to you.”

“Good,” Loki grunted. “That’s - that’s good.”

“Wait.” Steve’s heart began to race. “Did something go wrong with the transference spell you did earlier?” 

“I don’t know.” Beads of sweat dotted Loki’s forehead as he clutched his stomach tighter. “This has never happened before.”

“Hey, Romeo, can you and Juliet take it down a notch? We’re kinda trying to watch a movie here.”

Steve ignored the jibe. “Jarvis, lights on, please.”

“Hey, what gives?” Irritated now, Tony swivelled in his seat to look, but his annoyance quickly turned into alarm. “Games, you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Just an upset stomach. I’m fine,” Loki gritted through his teeth.

Thor, the ever reliable Loki-speak decipherer, sighed. “He’s fibbing. I can tell by his colour. You’re looking very grey, Brother.” 

“Was it the eggnog? The turkey?” Tony gave the room a surveying sweep. “Is anyone else feeling sick?”

“I ate everything and I feel fine,” Thor said. 

“You’re an outlier and therefore cannot be the point of comparison against which other people’s digestive systems are measured,” Tony deadpanned. 

Steve was already helping Loki to his feet. “Is there anyone still working at the medical lab?”

“It’s Christmas eve, genius,” Bruce said cheerily. “Guess who you’re stuck with?”

*************************

“How are you feeling now?” Bruce asked. “Any better?”

Loki shook his head. If anything, he felt ten times worse. “It feels like I’m being stabbed over and over.”

“Strange. The painkillers don’t seem to be working,” Bruce said. He bit his lip, appearing deep in thought. “But the bloodworks and the scans appear normal.”

“Meaning?” Steve asked.

“Meaning…” Bruce took off his glasses. “This is not medical. It’s magical. And there’s only one guy I know who’s an expert in both.”

The Avengers looked at each other with dread.

“Oh, boy,” Tony sighed. “He’s going to love this.”

*************************

The expert, as Tony had predicted quite wrongly, did not love it after all.

“Doing back-to-back shifts on Christmas, covering for your colleagues just because they have kids, dealing with drunks and delinquents…” Doctor Stephen Strange grumbled as he waltzed in through the door. “I thought those days were behind me.”

“Yes, we all know how busy you are,” Tony said sweetly. “Allow our resident Trickster to apologise for pulling you away from your festivities tonight.” 

“Nothing festive about Die Hard, but apparently it’s a Sanctum tradition, so.” Stephen shrugged. “In a way, you did me a favour.”

“Let me guess. DVD.” 

“Hah. VHS.” Stephen gave Tony a triumphant smile. “Wong’s a tech dinosaur.”

“You said he can help,” Steve criticised loudly, frustration evident in his tone. “Loki’s hurting and you’re standing around chatting.”

“Calm down, lover boy,” Stephen said easily. “Tell me your symptoms.”

Steve frowned. “Loki’s the one - ”

“I’m not asking Loki. I’m asking you, since you were the one who was sick in the first place.”

Everyone turned expectantly to Steve.

“What is he talking about?” Natasha asked. “Steve?”

“Oh, no, you didn’t,” Thor groaned. “Loki, how many times must we talk about this?” He shook his head sadly. “My brother has no sense of self-preservation.”

But Stephen paid the ever-dramatic God of Thunder no heed, focusing instead on his patient, who remained deathly quiet and still.

“Captain,” he urged again. “Your symptoms, now.”

Steve recounted his experience, beginning with feeling unwell right after dinner, putting it down to his lactose intolerance.

“So the pain started out dull and more centrally located, before it became sharp and shifted to your right side? And you felt nauseous as well?" At Steve's nod, Stephen turned grim. “These are all classic symptoms of acute appendicitis.”

Steve’s jaw dropped. “But I thought it was just - are you sure?”

“What is that?” Thor asked in alarm. “Is it serious?”

“It’s only the commonest surgical emergency in us humans,” Stephen said nonchalantly. “On average, I did ten appendectomies a day back when I was a resident.”

“I don’t get it,” Thor said. “If it’s so common then why can’t Loki heal himself?”

“I said it was common,” Stephen said. “I didn’t say it wasn’t serious.”

The doctor proceeded to sit down very carefully on the edge of the bed so as to not jar his patient.

“Hello.” 

“Second-Rate,” Loki returned the perfunctory greeting with a solemn acknowledgement. “How kind of you to come.”

“Well, you are a being of diplomatic importance,” Stephen replied cattily. “And Tony’s paying me by the hour. Holiday rates apply, of course.”

“Of course.” Loki’s throat bobbed up and down. “As you can see, I seem to have found myself in a bit of a bind.”

“I can see.” Stephen gestured at Loki’s midsection, the source of all troubles. “Mind if I?”

Steve pulled the privacy curtains around the bed before leaning against the wall to wait..The others showed no sign of budging either, each absorbed in their own curiousity and varying degrees of concern.

A minute later, a hand poked through the curtains. “Doctor Banner, can I see the full body scan again?”

Bruce placed the folder into the doctor’s awaiting hand. 

“Do you want the good news or the bad news?” Stephen asked when he finally emerged from behind the curtains moments later. “You know what? Don’t bother, because they’re all kind of bad.”

Appalling bedside manner aside, the Sorcerer Supreme's demeanour had taken on a confident, no nonsense air, allowing the others a glimpse of what the doctor must have been like back in the day.

“The transference spell worked beautifully, and had Loki been equipped with all our accoutrements, the inflamed appendix would have resolved itself, and you would still be gorging on pies and cookies and what have you.” Stephen paused for dramatic effect. “Unfortunately…”

“Unfortunately?” Steve echoed fearfully.

“He doesn’t have one.” Stephen said simply. “An appendix, I mean.”

Bruce frowned. “So…”

“So the inflammation has nowhere to go. There is nothing for me to cut into, or cut out. The magic cannot close its loop.”

Steve swallowed hard. “So what can we do?”

"About that." Stephen hesitated visibly. “Theoretically, as the spell has not reached its natural conclusion, it can be reversed.”

“So what are we waiting for?” Steve drew the curtains back and grabbed Loki’s limp hand. “Loki, undo the spell.”

Loki turned his head away.

Steve's tone grew hard. “Loki, give it back.” 

Once again, his plea fell on deaf ears. 

Steve turned to the doctor. “He can give it back, can’t he?”

“Yeah…it’s not as straightforward as that, I’m afraid,” Stephen said. “The guarding, the rigidity, the severity of the pain…it’s all pointing towards a ruptured appendix. Now you may be Captain America and all, but generalised peritonitis generally has a very poor outcome, and to transfer it back to you at this stage would be a very, very stupid idea.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning you can die,” Stephen said plainly. “Brave, I give you that, but stupid.”

“It’s not stupid if it means saving Loki’s life,” Steve growled.

“It still is if there’s another way that doesn’t involve you going through the worst agony you’ve ever felt in your life,” Stephen retorted. 

Steve’s face blanched. “Help him. Please.”

Stephen sighed. "Loki."

Loki reluctantly turned his head a fraction.

“You’re a shapeshifter. You know the insides of your body down to every last cell. Do you have a redundant organ, a vestigial piece of organic tissue you can spare?” Stephen asked.

Loki stared at him blankly.

“If you do, we can then divert the disease process into that organ, and take it out as you would a human appendix. Problem solved."

Feeling everybody’s incredulous gaze on him, Stephen felt compelled to defend his sound, professional opinion. “It’s a valid question. Doctor Who has two hearts.”

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Natasha could not resist offering her services. “I can help answer that.”

“Now that is a tough choice,” Tony said with a sympathetic grimace. 

“Guys, this is serious,” Bruce rebuked. “Can’t you see that Loki’s really sick?”

For once, Loki had to agree.

“Can all of you get out of here and let me die in peace?” he moaned.

“Brother,” Thor chastised. “No talk of death, please. I am barely recovered from your last one.”

“You know what’ll help with the pain? Vodka,” Natasha said. “Lots and lots of vodka. I sewed a hole in my stomach once and I hardly felt a thing.”

“Everybody, please!” Steve shouted. “Out. Now.”

“That’s right. Listen to the Captain, everybody," said Stephen drolly. "Everyone out but the next of kin."

Feeling the burn of Loki’s venomous eyes on the back of his head, he cleared his throat. “Correction. Everybody out, especially the next of kin. I need to have a private discussion with my patient.”

Tony tsk-tsked. “Way to go, Bambi. You’ve really ruined Christmas now.”

“Sorry,” Loki gasped.

“Don’t be,” Tony said, eyes softer than anyone had ever seen them. “We’ve watched Die Hard like, what, five years in a row? Besides, I’ve got it on hard copy, it’s ours forever. Unless I buy Netflix, of course.” 

He gave Loki’s knee a pat, awkward but gentle. “So try not to die, huh?”

Loki could only nod, the intense pain robbing him of speech and breath.

Stephen waved an impatient hand. “You too, Captain. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything to him you won’t do.”

At this point, Steve was too distraught and sick with anxiety to appreciate the doctor’s dark humour. 

“I’ll be right outside, Loki.”

Loki’s eyes followed Steve and lingered on the door long after it closed behind him.

With a majestic sweep of his cloak, the Sorcerer Supreme dropped into the chair and crossed his legs expectantly. “So. What will it be?” 

When Loki remained silent, Stephen decided to stop beating around the bush. “I know you’ve got the answer. I can see it in your eyes.”

Loki licked his lips. “Stark’s right. It isn’t an easy choice.”

“It’s only a choice between aesthetic perfection and survival, Loki,” Stephen said, frowning. “We have implants, prosthetics - ”

“I am not talking about breasts or testicles, Doctor. I couldn’t care less about them,” Loki interrupted. “Only that external endowments will not do. The poison is inside me.”

Stephen waited patiently; something was coming.

“I guess it was a blessing in disguise,” Loki sniffed, cursing the threat of tears stinging his eyes. “We could have watched Baby’s Day Out and made this a lot more difficult than it needs to be.”

“Oh.” Stephen’s shoulders slumped when the truth about Loki’s dilemma sank in. “Oh, dear.”

They stayed in an uncomfortable yet somewhat companionable silence for a while, before Stephen spoke again.

“Look. I don’t know much about your anatomy, yet,” Stephen said haltingly. “But if you consent to it, I’ll see what we can do about salvaging your reproductive potential. How’s that sound?”

“You will not give me false hope,” Loki said in a hard voice. “Not you.”

“Not me,” Stephen agreed. “So here’s what we’re going to do...”

*************************

“How long does this usually take?”

“It’s a key-hole procedure, it shouldn’t take long…”

“Didn’t you tell me Strange was in an accident and it ruined his hands?’

“That was years ago, maybe he got better.”

“No, he still has the shakes. But maybe it’s one of those things that gets better with alcohol?”

“Strange is drinking and operating on my brother??”

"Settle down, kids. Uncle Tony’s got it covered. He made your Uncle Stephen a new set of hands for Christmas.”

“You did what?”

“Ever heard of biomechanically loading muscle fibres to suppress involuntary tremor, Doctor Banner?”

“Only in theory.”

“Oh, it works, I assure you. It’s medical exoskeleton technology at its best. Well. Tony’s best.”

“Tony…”

Now he can quit his day job and go back to being a brain surgeon if he wants. Oof!”

“Damn you, Stark.”

Pat, pat. “Love you too, Rogers.”

*************************

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay, I think.” Loki listened to his body. It still pulsated with magic, his and Stephen’s combined, but where there once was fire, there was fire no more. “Yeah, I feel okay. I don't hurt anymore.”

Steve’s sigh of relief warmed his skin. Warmer still was the press of Steve’s lips on his knuckles seconds later. “You scared me.”

“I think I scared myself.” Loki smiled weakly. “And I’m not easily scared.”

“Hey, give yourself some credit. You were really sick.”

A nonchalant shrug. “Yes, well.”

“I’m serious, Loki. You nearly died.”

“Death doesn’t scare me, Captain,” Loki said gently. “At least, mine doesn’t.”

Steve was quiet. “Think I was scared enough for the both of us.”

“Sorry,” Loki apologised. “But everything’s okay now, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

Loki tilted his head and observed Steve's stiff demeanour.

“Did the doctor tell you?” he queried tentatively. “What he did in the end?”

Steve shook his head. “He couldn’t get out of here fast enough. The minute he was sure you were going to pull through, he left.”

“Of course he did,” Loki said with a roll of his eyes. “I suppose I must visit him in that dreadful place of his and thank him properly.”

“Once you’re better,” Steve said firmly.

“I am better, Steve,” Loki said. “In all the ways that matter.”

“Yeah? Care to tell me more?”

Loki stiffened. “What makes you think there’s more?”

“There’s always more with you,” Steve exploded, his voice raw with emotions. “What did you sacrifice in the end, Loki? What did you have to give up to save my life?”

“I didn’t sacrifice. I bargained.”

“You bargained.” Steve clenched his fist, the one not still holding Loki’s hand. “Stop talking in riddles, Loki. Just tell me the truth.”

“Do you remember what I said? About how everything begins with an idea?” Loki asked softly. “Me joining you, fighting the good fight. Us, living together under one roof. The idea of you and me.”

“Yes. It was the best damn idea I’ve ever had in my life.”

Loki heard the conviction in Steve’s voice and his resolve crumbled. 

“Well I had an idea too, you see. I’ve had it for a while now. But tonight I thought - ” his voice caught in a throat thick with tears, “I thought the idea had turned into an impossibility.” 

“And what is this idea, Loki?” Steve asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

“A family,” Loki exhaled shakily. “With you.”

“You don’t mean - ?”

“My womb. I thought I had to give it up,” Loki confessed. “That’s why I hesitated. I fought the pain for as long as I could.”

Steve had turned as white as paper. His hand darted out and palmed Loki’s bandaged abdomen. “No, Loki. Tell me you didn’t.”

Loki placed his hand atop Steve’s. 

“I didn’t,” he said reassuringly. “Apparently I have - had - lots of women bits. Some I even had extras of, according to Strange.”

Steve still couldn’t speak, so Loki rambled on. “Something called ovaries? Yes, I think that’s what they’re called. He said even if one is removed, there’s a good chance we could still…well. You know.”

Increasingly perturbed by Steve’s continual silence, Loki took it upon himself to sit up -

Jolted out of his reverie, Steve quickly put a hand on Loki’s chest. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

It could be the close brush with death, or the lingering effects of the drugs still circulating in his veins, but Loki could feel the desire surging, the need to know what Steve Rogers was really thinking in that perfect head of his.

“Captain. My Captain,” Loki called quietly. “Does it scare you? My idea?”

Steve pulled Loki in so fast his head swam -

“You idiot,” he felt the rumble of Steve’s voice in his chest, the warmth of Steve’s kiss on his head, finally a whisper, fervent and frantic.

“The only thing that scares me is losing you.”

Everything about Steve was so warm. 

Somewhere in the mansion, a clock chimed twelve. 

After he was done kissing Loki to his heart’s content,

“Hey, since it’s officially Christmas and neither of us is dying…” Steve broke into a suggestive grin. “Wanna watch something?”

"Not Die Hard again,” Loki groaned. 

Steve shook his head. He waved a disc in the air. “Try again.”

Loki smiled at the sight of its cover. 

“Baby’s Day Out, it is.”

[golden--doodler]

Hi yes hello pls talk about your Linda is deaf AU. 👀 I am v v curious.

Awwwwww! You wanna know about my AU?? 🥺🥺🥺

*Cracks knuckles* Time for me to yell about an AU literally no one asked for (I don't how I even got this super random idea in the first place, it just kind of happened).

But anyway, the gist is that everything's the same, except Linda was born with some sort of ear condition that's affected her hearing ever since she was born. For quite a few years, her hearing was still passable, and she could get by--especially in her younger years, her hearing was actually almost on par with a normal person's. But by the time she turned around 17, her hearing got significantly worse, and she became deaf.

She began wearing hearing aids, but hearing aids aren't perfect and can be quite uncomfortable. She's mainly relied on sign language and visual cues to get by, but because she's heard sounds before, she still talks quite a bit. Maybe not as much as in canon, but she's still the Linda we all know and love. She just can't hear.

Gloria refuses to believe that Linda has anything wrong with her hearing, for some reason. Gayle is actually quite kind about Linda's disability and has done her best to accommodate. She's still Gayle and is pretty terrible at sign language, but it's the thought that counts! And it leads to Linda getting super excited every time Gayle says anything correctly in sign language. Gayle even accompanied Linda to get hearing aids for the first time and helped pay for them, because Gloria is awful. Al just doesn't really know what's going on.

Bob is an even better partner than he is in canon. Yes, I didn't think that was possible, either, but it's true. When he and Linda met for the first time, Linda didn't reveal she was deaf at first, because she was afraid of what he would think. Hugo was actually accommodating, but he still made her feel strange about her disability. Like, he would make little comments that he didn't intend to be microaggressions but still felt like them. Bob eventually found out, though, and when he did, his immediate reaction was to try to learn as much sign language as he could to communicate with her in a way that was easier for her. And after years upon years of practice, he's basically become fluent and is really good at sign language. He found something besides cooking that he's proficient in! :D So of course he likes to brag about that.

Some of my other favorite tidbits are (you can find all of my headcanons in this old post: https://www.tumblr.com/golden--doodler/711107535901540352/bobs-burgers-au?source=share&ref=_tumblr):

--As mentioned before, Gene doesn't really know sign language, and basically never uses it. However, he does know one phrase: "More cookie, please" (this was just taken directly from the Hawkeye show but it's very fitting for Gene). He still uses this one phrase from time to time once the occasion calls for it. Linda finds it very endearing.

----Linda learned how to sign the entirety of I Love U So Much (It's Scary) by Boyz 4 Now. during the events of The Hauntening in Season 6, to get into the Halloween spirit. Tina immediately insisted Linda teach her how. Louise also eventually admitted she wanted to learn, especially because she was in a good mood after the family put in so much effort to scare her on Halloween for the first time. In fact, everyone was kind of impressed she was able to learn how to sign the entire song. Of course, when Linda began teaching them, Louise still vehemently denied her celebrity crush on Boo Boo.

----It's revealed in the Season 11 Episode The Terminalator II: Terminals of Endearment that Linda's dad, Al, uses hearing aids like Linda, but he just has them because he's old. In the episode, I imagine Bob making a comment about how being around Al made him appreciate Linda even more because he insists Al is somehow way more difficult to deal with when it comes to his hearing loss than she ever was.

--During the events of the song "Bad Things are Bad" in Wharf Horse (Or How Bob Saves/Destroys the Town) Part 2 at the end of Season 4, Tammy, Zeke, Jimmy Jr., Rudy, plus all the other kids who're talking to Linda, Gene, and Louise hold up signs while they're talking with the words they're saying written on them (such as "maybe you'll find him inside of this vase"). This is because Tina and Louise are the only ones there who even mildly know sign language (besides Linda, of course), so they wanted to make sure Linda understood what they were talking about, especially with how dire the situation was. She did appreciate the gesture.

--This doesn't have to do with the actual AU, but if you want to see a bit of the inspiration I got for this AU, definitely check out the deaf, Queer YouTuber Jessica Kellgren-Fozard, because she's amazing and deserves all the love. Her channel might be where I do some of my research for this AU: https://youtu.be/u3rrCpYTgv8?si=INgUB5oaubC8qZQ6

--During the episode in which Bob and Linda have their "snoring contest" (I think it's Season 8, Episode 12), Bob wonders if Linda is even able to hear their snoring, especially because she has to take her hearing aids out to sleep. She commented that while she mostly can't, she can actually hear it faintly, because of how loud it is. She also can very much feel the vibrations of his snoring specifically, which she says is very comforting for her. He didn't expect to find that so touching, but he does.

--Felix Fischoeder doesn't know sign language but pretended he did when he learned that Linda's deaf, to everyone's annoyance.

--Mr. Fischoeder just casually knows sign language, and was very casual about Linda being deaf (he was just like "oh, cool, that makes sense, you're not getting discounted on the rent though") and is actually quite enthusiastic about using sign language in front of Linda, because he's just like that, it's honestly a little sweet (though he's strangely averse to explaining the reasons why. Maybe he learned for illegal reasons somehow...).

--Teddy knows some sign language! He's definitely not fluent, but he does know an impressive amount for some reason I haven't come up with yet, and loves to show off his skills for Linda. Occasionally, Linda will actually catch Teddy and Bob having a conversation or two in sign language, even when they think she's not around. She finds it hilarious, and also surprisingly sweet.

--Speaking of her voice, she's practiced endlessly to have her voice be as clear as a deaf person's can be (because she knows how much easier it is to understand people when their voice is clear, she wants to make sure hers is clear for others), so she still sounds pretty similar to how she does in the show, with her even retaining her New Jersey accent. Everyone, or at least most people, has definitely noticed how clear and usually easy to understand the tone of her voice is. This was definitely helped by the fact she used to be able to hear in her youth.

And of course, last (not certainly not least) I have to once again share this lovely Commission surrounding this AU that @drawthethingdoppelganger made for me all the way back in March that I still treasure to this day. It takes place during Something Old, Something New, Something Bob Caters For You, and when the wind blocks out what the priest officiating Connor and Farrah's wedding is saying, their exchange for this piece goes something like this:

"Hey! At least I'm not the only one who can't hear this, right? Ironic, isn't it?"

*Chuckles* "Stop making me laugh when I'm so stressed, Lin."

(Oh, and also, Bob's doing the sign for "Yes" with his hand! :D)

[greyghoulclub]

Mean Steve has taken over my brain so have this.

Ship: Harringrove

Fandom: stranger things.

Tw: homophobic slurs, period-typical homophobia. Period typical talk about women. internalised homophobia.

R-18, billy antis dni.

——————————————————————————

It was rumoured that “King Steve” was an absolute beast in the sack, but he was also an asshole who never came back for a second date. Whoring his way through the female population of Hawkins High.

Seemed like every girl had something to say about the king, be it negative or the hopeful ones that think they could change him.

Billy knew that type of guy and met his fair share back in California. They were the type of guy to call him a faggot after they had “experimented” with him. Wam, bam, thanks fag. Billy didn’t expect to meet one in bumfuck Indiana, he figured they were still god-fearing farm folk. Well, some were god-fearing. Not farm folk though.

The only time Billy ever interacted with Steve Harrington was in gym where they were both on the basketball team. Harrington had been the point guard his whole high school career and hadn’t taken kindly to Billy snatching the position from under his nose.

“But coach! I’ve been the guard for at least four years now,” he had complained with the air of a spoiled brat who always got his way.

Coach Roberts had ignored Harrington’s protests and gave a dismissal hand wave. Steve looked ready to murder the basketball coach on the spot.

“It’s not all that bad Harrington, at least you’re still on the team,” Billy smirked as he passed the other boy on the way to the locker room. Billy never claimed to not be an asshole, but Harrington needed to be knocked down a couple, maybe a few pegs. He knew he’d probably pay for that remark later but it was too good to resist. “You could always be a water boy if you can’t keep up.”

The rest of the guys were goofing off in the locker room as usual, talking about the last party that Tina had held. Some of them were bragging about the mystery girl that gave them some head, other were taking about how they had managed to bed a girl.

“Duuude, Sophie Davis is a freak man, wanted me to pull her hair when I fucked her from behind.” The other meatheads guffawed.

Billy ignored them, not only because he just wasn’t interested in whatever flavour of the week Danny Jonson had managed to trick into sleeping with him, but also because he was very aware that Steve was there too. Steve had been eyeing him up like a predator eyes some poor rabbit for its dinner. It had to be for the comment Billy made earlier. Not for anything else, as much as Billy wanted it to be.

Because Billy Hargrove had the biggest crush on Steve Harrington and he hated himself for it. He couldn’t help but be attracted to him, even though he was the biggest asshole Billy had ever met. It was kind of pathetic in a way, that Billy would try and piss Harrington off so he had reason to talk to him. It was pathetic in the way that Billy looked forward to his little cat-fights with Harrington.

He carefully minded his own business, getting showered and changed, not talking to any of the other guys. He was just going to get his stuff and leave. He left the locker room with a sigh of relief, the cool January air hitting his face. Fumbled with his lighter and took a drag of a cigarette. Max was going to stay at a friend’s after school so he had time to kill. He had a baggie of weed from the dealer Munson, he was going to go to the quarry and smoke on his own.

"Hey, Hargrove, what the hell was that on the court?"

Billy turned to see a furious Harrington standing behind him. His eyes were almost black with anger. Most of Billy's brain was saying get ready to fight, but a more minor part, probably what controlled his dick said "he's hot when he's angry". Harrington got up real close in his personal space, they'd be able to touch their noses together if Billy didn't have a hand between them.

"The fuck do you want Harrington?" Billy tried his best to sound annoyed, but his dumb horny brain kept telling him that he should drop to his knees and suck Harrington dry right the fuck now.

"You think you're hot shit now you're the point guard?" Harrington was staring him directly in the eyes, brown meeting blue, Harrington was close enough that Billy could feel his hot breath on his skin.

"Not my fault that coach thinks I'd be better. You hicks should be thankful that I joined the team, now you can actually win a tournament for once," Billy squared his shoulders ready for a punch from Harrington but it never came. Harrington came for a fight, right?

"Meet me at the quarry." Harrington spat at him, "9pm." and with that, he stormed off back to where the other guys were congregating. Billy figured that Harrington wanted to beat his ass in private, either that or he's got some performance anxiety.

Guess he was gonna meet Harrington at the quarry at 9pm.

****

It was cold as shit at the quarry, the temperature dipping to at least 20 degrees Fahrenheit. Billy could see his breath in the air, Harrington better get here soon because he was freezing his balls off. He lit up his third cigarette of the evening, if Harrington wasn't here by the time he finished it, Billy was going to leave.

His eyes darted about the complete blackness of the road, waiting, hoping for any sign of that red beemer that Harrington drove. As much as he knew Harrington was pissed at him, he hoped that the other boy would also have hope for something else. Something more like... a relationship? No. Harrington had too much to lose if people knew he was a fag, it was social suicide around Hawkins. And word would probably get back to Neil and that would not end well for Billy.

A car came to a stop beside the Camaro. Billy didn't need to look to know who it was.

"What took you so long pretty boy?" Billy blew out smoke through his nose and crushed the cigarette butt underneath his boot. Filled with bravado and some dutch courage he faced Harrington.

"Figured you wouldn't actually show up, guess I was wrong." the other boy had a grin on his face that didn't look like Harrington's. It didn't feel genuine, it felt like a shark cornering its prey.

Billy took another cigarette from his pocket and put it in the corner of his mouth, "what do you want Harrington?" he huffed, getting impatient.

"You think you're hot shit or something?" Harrington got up in Billy's personal space, trying to intimidate him. Billy could smell the tobacco on Harrington's breath.

"I don't think I am Harrington, I know I am," Billy blew smoke into Harrington's face. If it did anything, Harrington didn't let it show. "you acting all pissy about coach making me the point guard? Pathetic amigo."

Hands grabbed the front of his shirt, and pushed him back against the hood of his car. Oh, Harrington was pissed.

"I'm not fucking pathetic," he spat. They were close enough that Billy could see Harrington's eyelashes. One part of Billy was ready to fight, ready to knock this privileged asshole down a few pegs. Another part was kinda happy at this. Billy wouldn't admit it out loud but he had seen Harrington's dick in the showers plenty of times and little Harrington wasn't so little. Great, all Billy needed at this point was a boner.

"Coulda fooled me with your little temper tantrum," Billy smirked. The mantra of "don't get a boner, don't get a boner" repeating in his head until,

"Are you fucking hard right now?"

Billy's stomach dropped. He either just wanted Harrington to punch him in the face and call him a fag, or to combust on the spot. Harrington was quiet, his hands slightly loosened.

"Harrington, let go of me," Billy mumbled, all the fire from moments before extinguished. But the other boy didn't.

"I know you look at me in the showers, are you that desperate for some action huh? You want my dick so bad?" Harrington slotted his leg in between Billy's and it took all of Billy's willpower to not just start grinding against Harrington's leg.

"Why so tense Billy? I thought you liked this shit?" Billy could hear the grin on Harrington's voice, he was very pointedly trying not to look at Harrington before he did something he'd regret. Harrington pressed his leg in further and Billy couldn't help but whimper.

Harrington gripped his hair and pulled to expose his neck, Billy was very aware that Harrington was leaning in, he swallowed the anxiety that bubbled in his throat. Harrington started to kiss and lick up the side of Billy's neck, sucking at the crook where his neck met his shoulder.

Billy whined at the feeling, if Harrington kept this up he was going to be bending over the camaro for him.

"You whine like a fucking bitch, think if I actually kissed you, you'd cum in your pants?" Harrington chuckled against Billy's shoulder, slipping a hand down between them to palm at his own bulge. With how tense Billy was right now, he no doubt that if he even got a tiny bit of friction on his dick he'd cum. But he knew how this worked, the other guy got his rocks off and then leave. Billy just had to pretend it didn't hurt.

Billy walked Harrington a little bit away from the car so he had room to get to his knees, he mouthed at the clothed bulge in front of him, revelling in how it made Harrington moan. He unzipped the other boy's jeans and took out his dick. Harrington's dick was even more impressive close up, a thick nest of pubes at the top that had a musky scent that filled Billy's nostrils.

"Come on man, I'm getting blue balls here," Harrington pushed Billy's head towards his crotch, his breath stuttering with anticipation.

Harrington shouted when Billy started to suck on the tip, tongue working circles around it, hand on Harrington's hip to stop him from thrusting into his throat. Harrington was making breathy little moans, a stark contrast from his earlier shout. Billy took this as a cue to start taking Harrington further into his mouth. He felt hands in his hair again to encourage him to go further.

"So good..." Harrington whispered, tilting his head back, his adam's apple bobbing with each breath he took. He pulled Billy back down when he pulled back and make small movements with his hips to get himself further down Billy's throat.

"Nancy never did this for me, too much of a priss..." Harrington grunted as he thrusted, "you're so good Billy, you just let me fuck your throat."

Billy had tears in the corners of his eyes as Harrington fucked his throat, all he could do was grip onto Harrington's hips and hope to whatever deities were out there that he didn't gag. His own dick was straining against his jeans, begging for some form of touch. Harrington pressing his thigh in between his legs seemed so long ago now.

"Don't touch yourself yet," Steve said in between grunts when he saw Billy trying to sneak away a hand to palm at himself. "Not until I've cum." Harrington's voice got more strained the closer he got. His movements got jerkier and his grip on Billy's hair got tighter.

"God, fuck, I'm gonma cum," Harrington thrusted one last time and held Billy there as he came down Billy's throat. Billy had no choice in swallowing it all. Harrington pulled out and tucked himself back in his jeans and helped Billy up.

"Gotta reward you for letting me fuck your throat right? Harrington slipped a hand into his jeans and Billy almost cried at finally getting some relief, keening and whimpering as Harrington jerked him off. Harrington went hard and fast, when Billy came he felt like he had no bones.

Harrington wiped his hand on Billy's jeans and turned to Billy and gripped his jaw, "now you don't tell anyone about this fag, got it?" and then he shoved Billy to the cold, hard ground.

The tears finally fell when Harrington drove away.

[quonka]

The Art of Putting on Horror Ambiance in Order to Emulate Getting Hunted for Sport, in Hopes that the Adrenaline Produced Forces You to Lock In

Not to brag, but my attention span is pretty miserable. Even things I genuinely enjoy doing are shoved to the side and neglected in the favor of doing actually, literally nothing.

Knowing this fact about me then, it may come as no surprise that getting myself to do schoolwork is an actual herculean task that I either have to trick myself into doing somehow; or as it ends up being in most cases, have to be forced into doing by my own debilitating fear of the due date, now only one night's sleep away, and its consequences on my GPA.

Maybe this sense of fear, this sense of myself in direct opposition to an impending aftermath, is why having horror game OST's playing in my ears when I'm writing is so effective. Misery loves company.

"Anyone else hiding in the comments right now?"

I don't actually have an extensive history of playing horror games-- instead, my knowledge comes from watching them at probably too young an age on YouTube.

My main sources of horror game content came from Markiplier-- of course-- and a much smaller youtuber that at the time when I first watched him eleven years ago, went by Harshly Critical, but now goes by John Wolfe. Both men have played an extensive amount of indie horror games-- some good, and some really, really bad, and some just completely mediocre and forgettable-- and I watched them all. Or at least my fair share of them.

Baby's First Horror Game

The first horror game that I ever personally played, and actually beat instead of turning it off at the first sign of terror, was a game called Darkwood, officially released in 2017 by Acid Wizard Studio.

I didn't even play it off one of their recommendations either-- I had no idea this game existed in any capacity until one day in 2020 when I was scrolling through the Play Station Store, specifically looking for interesting horror games to try.

The first thing about the game that grabbed me was the horrific (in the best way) cover art, but what got me to actually buy the game and play it was its insistence on the minimal presence of jump scares--

At the time, and after the commercial success of Five Nights at Freddy's and its multiple sequels, a series whose staple was the jump scare; many horror game consumers became soured to that convention of the genre-- often calling them out as "cheap" and "out of nowhere lazy bullshit". This sentiment among the community was evidently common enough to be able to market one's game off of. I do remember thinking it was a bit pretentious-- giving off a major "I'm different from other horror games" feel-- but I guess it worked. because I did in fact purchase the game.

And they were absolutely in their right to claim their game as "an atmospheric horror experience that creates a feeling of tension without cheap horror tricks."

Dull of One Sense Sharpens Another

Despite the art on the cover, the actual game itself is pixelated-- for the most part. In fact, the only times when you aren't in immediate danger is when you're sat across from characters that look like this:

That is exactly what makes the sound and music design so genius though; it's that importance of it, that necessity. When the gameplay looks like this--

-- that is to say in a Top-Down perspective with generally dark and muddy, muffled colors; You have to listen for the threats, instead of just normally being able to see them in HD.

That's another thing too, as seen in the photo, there is a specific, defined area that is lit up where enemies can be seen. However, in the game, anything outside of that sliver of light-- anything behind you-- will not be visible until you turn around and shine your light on it. This leads to a lot of enemies inevitably sneaking up on you, and in this game's case where you have extremely limited health and stamina reserves (the red and silver bars in the top left corner), you have to learn to listen for them or else they will easily kill you.

I think then that the intense amount of focus I put into listening for sticks around me breaking, or for sounds of shuffling and growling, all on top of the general game's ambiance and soundtrack, conditioned my brain into focusing whenever the game's music plays.

The Buzzword

Darkwood, authored by Artur Kordas who had a large part in the development of the entire game, has a fantastic assortment of songs that all flow smoothly into each other-- and just they are designed to in the game, they fade into the background, providing a consistent atmosphere so that you can focus on the task at hand-- or at least so that I can.

There are also one or two songs that refuse to wash away into mood music. My favorite song on the album, "Underground", is a perfect example of this. It comes in with this slow and consistent, almost pulsating type of ragged noise, one that makes me picture an ugly, broken and dented, rusted, barely working trumpet, with an underneath layer that sounds like dragging stone against stone. Then around halfway through the song, an aggressive and exciting drum beat with hints of a metallic sound crescendos and crescendos, chasing the original set of sounds until it's all that's left-- completely overriding the grinding stone and leaving a thicker horn blare in replacement of the old one. This of course eventually fades into one of the common buzzing motifs found in many placing of the game's soundtrack, that's meant to signify safety, or hope.

This hasty, thrilling song provides a really nice break up and into the rest of the album, that is an even nicer subconscious reminder to my brain that there is danger if I do not promptly "pick up the pace" of my writing-- and further that there is safety on the "other side" of finishing my work.

Recommendations?

I have played many video games; some that have required a lot of my focus that aren't necessarily horror, but whose soundtracks really help me to concentrate; and I've played other horror games where the soundtracks end up more distracting than helpful. I've also played some games that are my favorites of all time, and I've put many, many hours into, where their soundtracks do absolutely nothing because they're just a little boring.

Darkwood is special in that way, where it lies in a neat, cohesive little combination that ends up perfectly suiting my need for background music when I write.

And I thought it was pretentious.

Does anyone else have specific videogame OST's that work like this for them? I'm always looking to discover new music, especially music that's ideal for studying and schoolwork-- and it definitely doesn't have to be horror; like I've said, I use multiple different genres of OST's to help me out.

Also, I feel like this goes without saying, but if you are looking for a horror game to play, I do recommend trying out Darkwood.

Or if you'd rather just listen to the soundtrack, I understand.

[deusexmachinawitch]

This could be considered day 22 of the subliminal journey even if it sounds like a nightmare.

I had a very weird experience today when it came to my subliminal journey. I don’t know if this is normal or not when it comes to subliminals but this is at least my experience and I won’t say names since it might be the effect the subliminal it had on me as an individual and not the sub maker’s fault. I don’t know, I’m new to subliminals.

I decided to listen to two sub makers to compliment the amazing mysterious subs I listen every day. These two were added as SP manifestation aid as a way to see how far can I get with them. I haven’t had results yet btw but here comes the thing I don’t understand.

First sub maker was really nice. They’re not really big yet but I heard about their amazing results when it comes to SP manifestation so I listened for 2 days and while I have no results yet, I really felt good with them. Even relaxed. I really did enjoy this sub maker and I really hope I can become one of their next success stories.

But the thing is, the second sub maker had a very bad effect on me. Like, really bad. I chose this one because apparently they were good and they are really popular with a lot of views. I read the comments about their good results and I decided to give a try. But I was beginning to feel like really anxious, like I’ve never been like this before with a sub. I was nauseous, scared, anxious, I began to spiral and question my own manifestation. I was shaking. And even my mind was flooded with bad memories, it was like one of my former CPTSD episodes I had when remembering abuse and bullying. I just wanted that out of my head.

So I laid down and began crying without control, I became so anxious that I started talking alone about why the law keeps giving me breadcrumbs and such. I was really overcome with dread and hopelessness.

So I went back to the first SP sub maker, cried some more but I did calm down and felt relieved again. I napped for a while listening to the sub as well, I felt that relaxed.

But yeah, it was a very scary experience and I really hope my progress hasn’t been tampered because of that. I really didn’t know you could have like reverse effects from subs or something like that. It was truly scary. Like, legit scary.

When it comes to manifestations… When I was having the panic attack, I don’t know if I manifested this or not but right when I was almost screaming, thunder stroke and I got a phone alert at my phone that a severe unexpected flood was coming and it was advised that we stocked on stuff in the next 3 hours and for businesses to close soon too because some roads were going to be closed down because of it. No one actually predicted this flood and I was really worried really shocked. I wonder if it could have been me, but who knows.

I did run to stock stuff and even got some things for people close to me since I live in a part of town that is surrounded by stores and most of the people around me were not able to stock. But everywhere I went, I got very big discounts and even for things I wanted for a long time because I think stores wanted to make quick sales in case stores had to be closed for a pair of days due to the flood.

One of the persons whom I helped actually gifted me a very rare gaming item and said “so you can have bragging rights” and I think that’s the funniest manifestation I had.

I spent most of my day just making nice food for myself with the things I got and playing mystery games. I really needed to regulate myself after this horrible experience.

I hope this doesn’t make people discouraged when it comes to listening to subliminals but I really needed to share my experience so people know that maybe when something doesn’t resonate with you, don’t continue listening to it just because you read it works. I think that after this experience, subliminals are like medication, there’s different effects on everyone.

[taiblogcomics]

A Hitch in Crime Solves Nine

Hey there, Team Li'l Bitches. All right, we're finally back on track with these pony reviews. It's all forward chronology from here! Genuinely, I don't know what's ahead, so we'll see what they do with the future.

Here's the cover:

Ah, it's Hitch. I'm not quite sure this counts as film noir. I think it explicitly has to be in black and white. What is this, then, film sepia? If that's not already a thing, please credit me for it. Either way, with the hat and the sepia tones, it puts me more in mind of Indiana Jones than a detective story. I guess Indiana is sort of an archaeology detective. They're not dissimilar stories, is what I'm saying. Other than the hat, the big sign of film noir is the venetian blinds. All in all, kind of a cool cover. And very muted for a pony story!

So if you remember back when we covered issue 11 for Halloween, Hitch wasn't in that issue because he's doing true crime podcasting now. Zipp borrowed some equipment from him, and she's doing the AV for him. They've called their show "MareCRIME Bay", which I'm not sure is stupid or brilliant. Stupilliant, let's call it. Hitch got into this whole thing digging up a cold case from before his time as sheriff, which changed his whole view on Maretime Bay. That's a dark path to go down, Hitch, are you sure you can handle it~?

So starting the podcast got him loads of viewers sending in new information about the case. Well, that's one way to solve cases, I suppose! So here's the case: Pansy Silverbell was a four-time winner of the local bake-off, headed there for her fifth year of competition. But she never made it there, and in fact was never seen again. All we know is she talked to two ponies before failing to reach her destination: Jazz Hooves and Dahlia. What kept her from the competition, and why has she never been seen again? That's honestly a pretty good mystery. Darker than I'd expect, and given some of the stories we've covered, no guarantee the answer isn't just as chilling.

Other facts about Pansy: she ran a baking club and spent most of her time volunteering. She liked soup, and made some killer cupcakes. That was her signature award-winner. She even bragged online about being ready to take the next competition, to the ire of some online commenters. None of the commenters have been identified. But what Hitch is sharing on episode 2 is some interesting photos the Pony Photobug Club caught. Lotta clubs in Maretime Bay, I'm noticing. Guess they needed some way to socialise while still isolating from the other races.

The photographs (available to listeners on their Ponygram account) at least prove Jazz and Dahlia were the ones Pansy spoke to. Jazz runs a hooficure salon in town, and Hitch isn't so manly that he's above making an appointment to talk to her for the case. As soon as he mentions her name, though, Jazz hauls him into the back room to talk. It's a small town, it wouldn't do to hear such things being asked about. Jazz asks if he's asking in an official capacity, since she's not sure how much she wants to say. Bit suspicious, if you ask me, and Hitch thinks so too.

So Jazz's story is just that she was minding her own business walking down the street--minding it a bit too closely, as she runs right into Pansy, knocking her cart over. She helps her pick up the cart, sees her off, that's pretty much it. Not much of a story. Hitch points out she looks a bit grim in the photo for such a simple incident, and she says maybe she was upset by something or somepony else. She continues to be a little bit shifty, such as suggesting she definitely doesn't know who these Ponygram commenters are, even when pronouncing their names perfectly.

Hitch himself didn't put the names together until he heard them aloud. One of the nastier comments left on Pansy's last post was from "DollyYeah". Which, you might notice, sounds like "Dahlia". So that's who Hitch goes to interview next. She runs a tidy little bakery stand, which must be nice to not have a lot of competition anymore. Which is basically what Hitch comes right out and says, accusing Dahlia of being mad enough to leave nasty comments online and then also arrange Pansy's disappearance. I think those two events are a bit apart in scope. I hope they are, anyway…

She and Hitch grab a bite from her own stand, where she reveals she learned to bake from Pansy. So, the reason she left mean comments online is because she was annoyed with Pansy. Or more specifically, the circumstances. The winner of the bake-off was probably going to get a sponsorship deal and 10,000 bits. And Pansy already had a pretty successful bakery as it was, while Dahlia wanted to open her own. Dahlia was one of those friends who gets overshadowed all their life by a more successful one. So she kinda lashed out. Sometimes friends have disagreements, that's all it was.

As is usual for this kind of story, this is the part where Hitch gets stymied for a little bit until an innocuous unrelated comment gives him the hint he needs to break it wide open. In this case (literally), Hitch and Zipp break for lunch and really enjoy their butternut squash chowder. Zipp even comments that she wants to nominate the chowder for an award, and it's that remark which gives Hitch his eureka moment. Pansy never showed at the bake-off--but was she even registered to compete? Or just to attend? He dashes off to pursue the leads.

So Hitch meets with the judges from the bake-off (for a chili lunch), and they confirm they haven't seen Pansy. But another thing they confirm is the very interesting detail that Dahlia was the winner of that contest. She got that 10,000 bits and opened the very bakery where she and Hitch had a snack. For some reason she didn't feel this info was pertinent to share. Before he can digest that (or his latest meal), he receives an interesting email. In short, it's a mysterious podcast listener, somepony who wants to meet him tomorrow afternoon…

Hitch arrives the next day to meet the mysterious email sender, who turns out to be… Pansy Silverbell herself. She's been listening to the podcast, and is quite surprised that she's the subject. She's brought a couple of one of her singature treats. Friendship is like cookies, you see. You need equal icing on both sides, or it won't stick. And that's when the other email recipient drops by: Dahlia. She apologises for running out on Pansy, but she's not concerned about all that. Instead she invites the pair of them to her house--right next door to Dahlia's shop.

Pansy serves them some soup and comes clean about the whole thing. Jazz was the only one from their old friend group who knew, and she pressured Pansy to send that email after the podcast started up. So what's going on is that Pansy never wanted to be "the best", she just happened to be really good at stuff and outshone her friends by accident. Eventually, the prospect of being the champion winner for a fifth time and getting a sponsorship was too much for her. She abandoned everypony and disappeared so she could find herself.

That's it, basically! She wasn't even sure baking was her calling and is into soups now. She just never knew how to start up with "I'm not dead and live next door" to Dahlia, which is fair. The two start over, and Hitch starts up episode 4 of his podcast by declaring he's calling off the investigation. I'd say I dunno how he stretched that all out to four episodes, but I've seen modern comics stretch an entire storyline out to six issues, so actually I believe it. But ye, the comic ends with the important lesson that some things are unsolved because some folks just want a little privacy. Case--and comic book--closed~!

Honestly? Kinda liked this issue. Probably one of the better mysteries they've attempted, and they had a whole miniseries about mystery-solving. I have two main critiques with it. First, I'd say this is a great example of how they do when they focus solely on one or two characters--except it's not really about Hitch, is it? Hitch is just the connecting piece that links all the rest of the story together. And speaking of things connecting it all together... That's my other complaint. This is much more minor, but like... Every lead Hitch followed, other than Jazz, involved a meal of some kind. Like, he didn't need to get chili with the bake-off judges for the story to work, but he did. I thought it was all building to some punchline about detective work making him feel full or something. I dunno, it just felt like a joke set-up that never happened~

[cate-eblanchett]

( t e x t ) has she been helping the brides in question with their attire btw ? oof I definitely don't wanna be on ediths enemy list, oof 🥴 geez, that make's me sound like i've revealed it all, blanchett. we may need to either keep topping up her wine or accept those spoiler's are hidden deep, man. there's only so much dumb charm i can pull. I feel like the closer it gets, the more impatient we get, what the fuck. i've gotta know the juicy detail's. ohhh shit. well, those jealousy arguments can be a real test, you either live to tell the tale or you're sleeping in the next room !! duh 😉 party first- got it, got it. If you don't, i will ! and if she decline's my invite to the bachelorette, how do we feel about a look-a-like ? michelle pfeiffer drag queen ? cat woman stripper ? just an idea. she's getting bridesmaid just for being her, that's the ultimate compliment, even better if she's an ordained minister. you can enjoy us really soon when you get your butt to NYC this week, or more so, very soon.... you can just practice your cheering once i'm in your arms again.

(Text) she is though to convince, she doesn't seem convinced with any dress yet and her opinion is really important. she adores you, you could not be on her enemies list at least you did not share chocolate bars with her or something. you and i and everybody in this house is going to sit down to watch the show tonight, i don't want to brag about it, but it feels good having Laura Peterson sitting by my side. i had some weeks where i was a little out of control with jealousy, but my future wife doesn't help, she keeps calling wife to someone else, that's why i am about to get an instagram account and start commenting on michelle pfieffer's posts "wife" until she blocks me. the stripper with a cat woman look? yes, please! YES. I will be with you very soon, i promise, have you talked to sandy lately? maybe we should take her out one of these nights too. @srahpaulsons

[forestxleo]

"Really?" Leo asked when Ben said that his parents hadn't let him listen to that kind of music. It wasn't a judgement, but Leo couldn't imagine that kind of lifestyle. "That must have sucked," he stated. "My parents are both music lovers and used to share all kinds of things with me. songs and artists and bands that they liked. I really think that's part of why it's such a passion with me too. It's cool that you developed a love for it despite not growing up the same way." And he meant that too. Nodding, he replied, "Yeah, it's sort of always been my thing." Leo paused, deciding how much he wanted to say, but since he'd already mentioned playing piano, he figured it was okay to elaborate just a little. "My parents started me on piano when I was younger, and I've been playing ever since. I guess I was okay at it." That was of course an understatement - Leo was talented enough to get into a school with about a 7% acceptance rate, so he was much more than "okay at it." But he didn't want to brag, especially since that was in the days before the accident. "You know, it's really hard to learn music just by listening to it. That's...actually really impressive. Once you know how to read sheet music, it's easier to learn songs that way I think. I could teach you sometime maybe if you wanted." Leo was as surprised as Ben probably was by this suggestion because it wasn't like him at all. But he was enjoying this conversation, and it was nice sharing a passion with someone. Laughing, Leo nodded and replied, "Yeah, that's totally normal. I mean, I'm not knocking it, but...it was definitely kind of strange."

When Ben mentioned his profession, Leo paused; he had no idea he'd been talking to a therapist. But it didn't really affect his opinion of Ben, not negatively at least. "You're just full of surprises," he stated with a little smile. "I used to go there, but I...uh, decided I didn't need therapy anymore." He told his parents he still went, but that was a lie and had been for quite some time. "You'd probably need something to unwind, especially after stressful days," Leo responded. He was glad he hadn't made things weird with his comment, moving past it just like Ben had. "That's the cool thing about music," Leo said. "It can transport you. It sounds like a cliché, but it's true. It's one thing I love about it." And it was one thing he missed about playing piano. Resisting to urge to wallow in his loss, Leo just listened as Ben began to play, and he immediately smiled when he recognized the song. And for just a few seconds, Leo sang along, softly, not drawing attention to the two of them, and he was smiling even more brightly when they were finished. "Great song," he told Ben.

Benjamin nodded at Leo's question. "I did! I've loved rock and roll, and even punk music for quite a long time, but growing up I wasn't allowed to listen to it much," he chuckled. His parents had been pretty conservative when it came to that kind of thing. "But when I moved to Shrike, I kind of wanted to reinvent parts of myself, and one of the first things I saw was the Stratocaster at a shop window and decided... why not? And went for it. I still don't really know how to read music, but I can learn songs and play by ear," he explained. "What about you? Have you always been a lover of music?" When asked if he had a picture of his guitar, Ben laughed and shook his head. "No, I'm not that vain about it, it's just a hobby! I mean, it is a beautiful instrument, but I'm not carrying a photo of it around," he mused.

Once they headed to the display and Leo asked what Ben did over at Perkin's, he smiled. "Well, I'm a therapist there," he explained. "I love my job, but I'm glad I have something engaging to go home to, or my work would get to me," he said, gesturing at the guitar as Leo pulled it out. He grinned when Leo said music kept him young, and he nodded, brushing past the other's slight awkwardness. "Haha! No, you're right! Sometimes I feel like time's getting away from me, but when I play, it seems to stand still. It makes me feel like I'm still in college somehow, even though I never had an inclination to play back then." He held the Gibson carefully, but comfortably, and began to play a few cords to test it, then began to string notes together. Leo would probably be able to recognize the start of Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac, but Ben didn't play for more than about half a minute before he stopped.

[sukirichi]

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

one  ✘  two  ✘  three 

One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

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[creepswrites]

🅱️lease can i request literally anything with bo's s/o growing distance cause their brain has convinced them he only sees them as an object and how he'd deal with that/try to comfort them?

cause my brain won't let me have soft thoughts rn

maybe, but this would get really angsty, this mindset was triggered by a comment they overheard bo making

the s/o actually starts to get like super flirty towards visitors because they only view themselves as being worth something when desired/wanted 🥲

sorry if this is weird lmao I'm just kinda all over the place

- 🔪

Ohhh I do love writing for the Sinclair boys... I hope you enjoy this!

Bo Sinclair w/ a Female S/O who is growing distant (SFW)

At first, Bo likely doesn't even notice. Sometimes he needs his space and he assumes thats just what you need right now. You'd been feeling uneasy about your standing with Bo, your relationship unclear, and watching him flirt with visitors that came through only made your doubts grow

He has no idea you overheard him mention to Vincent about how "damn easy" it was to flirt with you, to use you, and that survivors were easier to catch because of how cute you are

(Had you stuck around, you would have known he was just bragging/gushing about you to his brother, but you didn't know that)

Red flags go off in his mind when you start avoiding him to his face (rejecting offers to cuddle, not coming with him to the garage, etc)

Things escalate if you start spending time with his brothers, Vincent especially, over him. He's jealous on a good day, downright controlling at worst

He's more aggressive with visitors, especially ones you flirt with. You know Bo usually doesn't bother with the actual killing, just herding them all to Vincent, but you're taken aback when you spot him elbows deep in some guy's chest cavity just for flirting with you.

Bo doesn't know what he did to earn your scorn by by god he's going to fix it.

"Bo, stop!" You yelled over the sound of Vincent's wax machine running. The twins rarely got along most days, Vincent treating Bo like a ticking time bomb. So when you'd gone looking for the mechanic, finding him in the workshop was the last place you'd expected.

Well, maybe second to last, only because finding Bo carving up some paralyzed son of a bitch was last. "Sorry darlin', bit busy!" He called to you as he ran the carving knife he had up and down the guys chest, forcing you to listen to his muffled groans of pain. Seems Vince sewed his mouth up already.

"Bo, he didn't do anything wrong-" You protested before Bo cut you off.

"Yeah, he did darlin'. Ain't nobody allowed to flirt with you but me." He glared down at the guy beneath him, only pausing when Vincent tapped his shoulder to sign. Don't mess him up too bad so he can still be made into wax. Bo could work with that.

"That's not his fault... It's all I'm good for." You wrapped your arms around yourself and fixed your gaze on the floor. All you were was an object, something to be used. The brothers needed to use you to catch people. Like some sort of tool.

Your mechanic simply gave you a confused look. "The hell you mean?"

You frowned but didn't look at Bo. "I heard you talking to Vincent. I'm just easy to use to you. I'm nothing but some easy bitch for you!" Tears were welling in your eyes as the twins shared a wordless look. "You n-need me to flirt with them to c-catch them. Thats all." You choked through sobs, covering your face to spare yourself the embarrassment of them seeing you cry over this.

You heard them both step towards you but Bo's arms encircled you. "Hey now," his voice was soft, soothing in your head, "ain't nobody thinks you're some toy. Honest." You shook your head against his chest and he just shushed you and began rubbing slow circles on your back. "Should'a used my words more careful with Vince but I didn't think you were listenin'. Was only tellin' him how good you are and how helpful you are in catching these bastards for us." He kissed the top of your head softly as your sobs quiet down. "I don't think you're some object darlin'. Never have." He stood there holding you and rocking you gently, far kinder than he usually was. You knew Bo had intimacy issues, you'd accepted that, but this was the first time he'd realized how easily he could lose you if he wasn't diligent in your needs too. Pressing his face to the top of your head, he closed his eyes and made a silent promise to whatever was out there that he'd do better for you, anything, so long as he didn't lose you here.

His prayers must've been answered as your arms slowly moved to wrap around Bo's neck. You felt yourself blush as he buried his face in your neck, kissing you in silent relief. Your avoidance of him started to click into place his mind and he knew he'd have to work to prove your thoughts about yourself were wrong. He shot his twin a look before lifting you into his arms. "Vinny, can you deal with that jackass for me?" You couldn't see Vincent but you assumed he nodded since Bo said nothing more and simply carried you up the stairs out of the workshop and into the house.

You didn't need to lift your head to know Bo was carrying you up to your room. With such little space in the house as it was, you and Bo had been sharing a bed for awhile. You took pity on him when you learnt he was just sleeping on the couch most of the time while you slept in his bed and you'd invited him back to the bed. Avoiding him while sharing a room had been challenging, to say the least. But you didn't worry about that now as Bo lay you down on the bedsheets and took his spot beside you, facing you.

The two of you had a lot of work to do on your relationship. But Bo leaning down to kiss you was a good place to start.