#my day was a bit shitty but I reread your ask so many times to cheer myself up!

[box-architecture]

I was rereading some of your stuff on Ao3, and went “huh. I know Sapnap kidnaps Dream out of a misguided idea of what’s happening at one point, but how does that all go? How did Dream react? What was Sapnap like?”

So now I’m asking you. At 12:20 am. I have class in 7.5 hours!

Okay so we're going to ignore how long this has been sitting in my drafts, half answered. Okay? Okay. Awesome

-

So at some point during the Discovery Of Many Kinks (because when you're having a weird poly relationship with your former Warden, you're going to try a bunch of different things. For Science) awesamdrunz attempt to do a sex tape. It gets left around and found within like three days. By Sapnap.

So of course because of burning curiosity he has to watch the mysterious tape to see whats on it.

Then the only reason he kept watching was shock and also trying to figure out who the hell the third person was, why they looked familiar but also what the hell happened to them. Fun ways to find out your former best friend wasn't lying when he said he was horrifically tortured by your kind-of finance: finding his sex tape.

And listen, originally it was a fun crack idea to have him see this relationship nonsense where awesamdrunz was basically fucking in sex dungeons (made by Sam) after kidnappings, and decided that this was actually a really good template to fix his own relationship. He ends up trapping Quackity and Karl in what might be a previously unused sex dungeon!

(Resounding success: both of his boyfriends did not murder each other (due to bars in between them) and even spoke to each other in order to escape. This is the most progress he's had in months.)

But then! Alternate Idea! Sapnap sees the sex tape and (honestly not unfairly given his prior knowledge) believes Punz & Sam are at minimum, pressuring Dream into this relationship, and somehow this is a worse crime than murder. No wonder Dream couldn't stay in the prison! (Which. Not inaccurate.) So Sapnap sets about needing to find and protect Dream.

Sapnap finds Dream, and tries to convince him that he'll protect him. Dream is confused about what Sapnap saw, and has a tough time refuting anything. He also does really miss his friend. So he,,, doesn't really fight when Sapnap takes him to a secondary location.

-

"The windows are nice. Not as defensible, but you'll know if the enemy approaches." Dream commented, staring at the cloud-covered sea.

Sapnap laughed nervously, pulling open kitchen cupboards. "Yeah, I don't know. There shouldn't be any way for someone to find us out here though; its not like I told anyone where we were going."

Dream pursed his lips, but said nothing, eyes following the way the waves crashed against the shitty boardwalk Sapnap cobbled together half asleep. He figured Dream wouldn't want to be cooped up in the cottage all the time, not after… everything, so they could go sit out on the beach and fish, maybe, or go look for seashells. They hadn't built a sandcastle since they were kids, either, so it would definitely be something fun to try. Just like old times.

The wheat was crumbling in his hands, so Sapnap quickly tossed it on the counter.

"Are you hungry?" He called out, trying for a bit more cheer. Dream's gaze pulled to his, and Sapnap began pulling more ingredients out on the granite. "I know I'm not usually the person who cooks, but I've been getting into it lately! I made rabbit stew for Karl the other day, and he didn't even make a face when he was chewing."

He didn't really think about the potatoes as he dumped them into the sink, but he did notice the way Dream flinched, drawing in on himself and towards the doorway.

"Dream?"

"Just…" Dream looked back out into the sea. His fingers, what remained of them, dug into the fabric of his pants. "Nothing with potatoes. Please."

Sapnap felt his anxiety roll like the tide.

"Yeah, dude, that's cool. Doesn't sound appealing right now anyway." He said uncertainly. Dream's shoulders relaxed marginally, but Sapnap still felt off. "Anything you're in the mood for, though? Beet soup? Cheese sandwich?"

"Whatever you cook is fine." Dream reassured him. A brittle, but teasing edge appeared in his smile. "Unless you somehow got worse at baking bread."

He had, but god forbid would he ever admit to that. He grinned, and sat up on the counter. "Oh, like you're so good at it. I tried your stupid 'Everything' bread, and it tasted like ash."

"You turned off the timer and it burned."

"Well maybe next time don't leave random timers on the oven and expect anyone to know what they're for."

"Maybe next time you should assume its there for a reason and not touch it." Dream said in exasperation. Sapnap stuck his tongue out, and Dream threw his hands up, exiting the kitchen. He was so dramatic, Sapnap thought fondly.

-

Its a lot of Sapnap attempting to reestablish their previous connection and realizing how much Dream has changed, and staring at the scars when he thinks Dream isn't looking. He gets Super Protective and promises he wont let anything else happen to him. Dream is instinctively upset (why now, why does it matter now, why do you care, I am Perfectly Fine) but its one of his People and he is So Tired.

Sapnap is sorta kinda keeping Dream with him. It's not exactly against Dream's will, but it's also like, if Dream could walk out the door and come back later without Sapnap freaking out he'd rather do that. But Sapnap is freaking out, and seems to believe that there is a credible threat against Dream if he leaves. Given Sapnap's previous relationship with Quackity, Dream is willing to believe he might know something and that alone makes him anxious enough that he wants to stay.

Sapnap gets more horrified the longer he's with Dream (Dream flinches under his touches, his fingers are gone, Dream makes a snide comment about Quackity when Sapnap asks about the scars,) and this only convinces him more that clearly he needs to be protecting Dream. Sapnap expresses a lot of fury towards Sam, and Dream doesn't have any good arguments against it. There's a lot of stuff that he just sorta, decided to ignore, and now that coming back up is messing with him.

They get into a brief yelling match when Dream gets tired of what he presumes is pity and fake behavior, and it ends with Sapnap holding Dream to keep him from leaving or collapsing.

(The irony(?) of Dream comforting Sapnap for most of his life only for them to switch places in this moment is not lost on him.)

He gets to snuggle with him under the covers and gets a kiss on the chin (Dream is half asleep, and thinking about how much he missed him.)

Meanwhile, Punz is going to Murder Sapnap.

Punz has no context for why Sapnap took Dream so he is assuming Sapnap is going to attempt to imprison Dream again (after failing to kill him) and while he is 100 percent confident in Dreams abilities he also is aware that Sapnap is one of Dreams People and therefore capable of hurting Dream emotionally. Hurting Dream is Not Allowed.

Sam is having a panic attack because Dream isn't within sight line and isn't with Punz and therefore everything is Wrong and Bad in his world.

When you finally get a confrontation between Sam and Sapnap (because at this point, they don't know that Sapnap knows about Punz, so Sam is going in first), Sapnap responds viciously, tearing into Sam both for the scars on Dream's body, but also stating he knew they were fucking, and there's no way that's even remotely acceptable given the position of power Sam had (he's not wrong. this is a true statement of fact for everything that occurred prior to the prison break. it's just that things got weird after that). Sam has no good rebuttal, and faced with violence from Sap, has to flee. He's left shaken from everything.

Dream: listen he may have enabled my torture and abuse, and starved and isolated me, and accepted sexual favors from me while being in a position of power over me But he's also a very sad wet cat of a man, and I'm a control freak

Punz tries to talk with Sapnap on slightly less,,, angry grounds? On his part. Knowing about the interaction with Sam, he feels better about the fact Dream is probably safe and Sapnap probably has good reason for what he's doing.

To be clear though, Sapnap is furious with Punz. Right out of the gate he reveals he knows Punz was involved. At first, he's assuming that Punz was paid off to help Sam, but Punz decides "fuck it" and reveals at least part of things. He explains he was working with Dream after the prison break, that he felt bad for betraying him, and that they had a relationship. Dream wanted to involve Sam post-prison, Punz was against it, but wanted Dream to be safe.

Sapnap: you're forcing him to do this! Punz: I DON'T EVEN WANT HIM TO BE DOING THIS Sam: >:(

Sapnap needs to take some time to processes that, but he then presses to clarify; Dream and Sam had a relationship while Dream was in prison? Yes.

Sam had a hand in the torture and Dream's condition? Also yes.

After he broke out, despite all of this, Dream still felt like he wanted to return to Sam? Yes.

Sapnap: And you LET him?!

Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, other than Dream is his own person, and Punz can't stop him from doing what he wants with his life. To which Sapnap responds, yes you can motherfucker

It's a very fundamentally rift in their two perspectives. Punz, particularly post-prison, couldn't morally justify restricting Dream or telling him how to life his life or cope. Sapnap, thinks that Dream was not in a position to make a choice like that.

Punz doesn't have a good answer for that, it's the exact thing he's been feeling guilty over. So he ends up leaving, Not for forever. Just to think.

Meanwhile, Dream overheard everything. He now understands what Sapnap is seeing as the "real issue" (or at least, the current threat at hand), and he knows that he's going to make his own choice here.

Dream: I understand that my decisions are problematic but have you ever considered that I've made my choices and will continue to make them, even if you don't agree Sapnap: NO

Dream tells Sapnap gently that he's leaving now. He wants to go back. Sapnap doesn't want him to, he makes fair arguments about how much Dream could be hurt here. Dream understands, but he's also an adult, and he's decided what he wants. He's forgiven his stupid creeper hybrid boyfriend. It might not make sense to, but he has. It's his choice in the end.

Sapnap doesn't like it, there's a long people where he's just holding Dream and in tears. He's apologized a lot. For leaving Dream there. He says it again for good measure. Dream gives him a soft kiss on the forehead and he doesn't say it's okay, but he does say that he loves him. That it will be okay.

Dream has to go now, but he promises to come back, they set a time and they get to just spend time together. Talking about things one at a time.

(Sapnap and Dream see each other a lot now, as he slowly enters Dream's life again. Occupying his space and checking up on him and fretting. They get more kisses, more cuddles in bed. Once a week they come back to their little cottage and grow something that isn't what they used to have, but its still good, and its full of love.)

Later, Dream will be reassuring Punz that he made the best choices he could make, sighing and pulling Sam out of his prison depression hole. Kidnapping once again proves to be a great way to solve problems.

[syoish-aot]

HOLY SHIT IT'S DONE!!

I was having some intense posting paralysis all morning (I think I reread the last scene like 15x just to make sure it was worded exactly right).

*he terrifying fear when you write something you really love and you're scared no one else will like it as much as you do*

ANYWAY -

Thank you so much to everyone that's been regularly reading slash commenting on I Found You! It was my first time posting fic to tumblr and I had a lot of fun doing it!

I always have SO MANY ideas for fics, but I get overwhelmed by the idea of seriously perusing them. A lot of this comes from the fear that no one will read them and I'll have spent all of my time writing for absolutely nothing. BUT I've been trying to humble myself lately and recognize the joy in the writing process itself and the satisfaction of getting my ideas fully fleshed out on paper aka google docs regardless of the attention they get.

Despite that, anyone who writes fic understands how shitty it feels when you work for DAYS on something and get crickets in the comments. It sucks. And that's sort of how I've been feeling with my fics on Ao3 lately- which kicks my motivation right in the ass.

In writing I Found You, I think I got some of that motivation back. Not JUST because I was getting regular commenters (again, thank you so much) but also because I was able to slip fully into my self indulgence and finally write out one of the verses that's been existing in my mind palace for MONTHS!

So, all of this rambling is to say this -

I really liked sharing this story with you guys on tumblr, and I'm for sure going to be doing more of this style in the future.

I'll be posting I Found You to Ao3 as well, but I want to edit it a bit (and possibly add a few more scenes) before doing that.

Basically the version I posted here is more of a rough draft, and then the final version will be the one on Ao3.

If you like my writing, consider checking out my Reader/Eren long fic "Ten Seconds" (100k, complete on Ao3) or the post-canon Jean/OC fic I'm working on "The Letters She Wrote"

If you read all of this, then here's your reward - a sneak peak at the VERY LONG isekai/time travel fic that I'm going to be working on next...

Chapter 1 - "You, 2000 years in the future"

Shiganshina High - 2024

You’d taken Ancient History as an elective to fill your schedule because no other class fit in the period. 

Also to piss off your dad about not taking AP calculus.

(But mostly it was the schedule thing.)

It wasn’t that you disliked Ancient History, you just found it painfully boring and mind numbing. It was the class right after lunch and every assignment was another boring paper that sounded the exact same over and over and over again.

(Although it did leave you wondering how many times you could start a paper with “the oxford dictionary defines discovery as…” before Mr. Arlert, the ancient old man who taught the class, caught on.)

Thankfully, you didn’t have to put too much effort into the class to get a good grade and because of that the class was an easy A that you could use to maintain your honor roll. Mr. Arlert was retiring at the end of the year, so he was pretty much entirely checked out. You had a feeling he didn’t actually read any of your papers and gave your grades out based on how well he assumed you did the assignment. Which, again, meant you got an A on every one. So Mr. Arlert had a habit of putting on documentaries instead of actually teaching anything. 

And you weren’t about to complain about that.

Armin was sitting next to you furiously taking notes on the documentary that Mr. Arlert, his grandpa and teacher, had put on. You understood his struggle to impress his grandpa in the class he taught on a personal level. You used to be like that when it came to math, but now you normally felt yourself doing the opposite. “The opposite”, meaning:

Not taking AP calculus.

Writing the wrong answer on a quiz, even after doing the work to prove the correct one.

Asking pointless questions in class just to see him get that constipated I-can’t-treat-you-like-my-daughter-right-now-because-you’re-my-student-but-god-do-I-wish-I-could-ground-you look.

You smiled at the memory, feeling quite pleased with yourself, until the monotone voice of the documentary playing at the front of the class pulled  you back into the present:

“The ancient people of Paradis elected large walls, presumably to protect themselves from invaders during this time.” You looked back at the projector. There was a poorly done animation of what historians suspect the three large walls may have looked like, back when they still stood almost 2000 years ago. 

The documentary, just like every documentary Mr. Arlert put on, seemed pretty pointless to show to a class of eleventh graders who were already very aware of the mysterious history of Paradis. 

You’d all grown up here and had been taught about this stuff since grade school. Paradis was a major hub for ancient history. There were dozens of museums throughout the island, all holding different ancient artifacts and pieces of your country’s history. Pieces that’s functions had been lost to time, leaving archeologists only able to guess the true history of your people and what these items were for.

“...purpose of them is still unknown, some archaeologists theorize they were used for early agriculture, although others argue they may have been used for religious reasons…”

On the screen was one of the most mysterious relics of ancient Paradis. Two metal cylinders, attached to some sort of strap. Normally, they were found with a large box of metal that was meant to hold something, along with canisters of unknown contents. The were rare, but a few dozen of them had been uncovered in the last hundred years and have only continued to add to the mystery of ancient Paradis. 

Of course, you were curious what their origins may be too, but not curious enough to look into it further than this class and the occasional trip you make to the Paradis Museum. 

“...these large man-eating monsters were an important part of Paradis folklore, some argue they were likely worshiped as go-”

The bell rang, finally saving you from your mind numbing documentary focused torture.

“Ah!” Mr. Arlert jerked awake at his desk. “Yes, well- I hope you all learned something important today!” He quickly said as he stood. “Don’t forget, your final papers are due on Monday morning. Despite it, I hope you’re able to enjoy your weekend!”

You hoped so too.

God, did you hope so...

[voxnipop]

Hey.

You can teach yourself to read again.

I'm 32, and reading again now, but for several years, I just straight up never picked up a book. Between TikTok and games and work and depression, the appeal died.

And worse? When I tried, I couldn't muster the attention to get through more than a few pages, and was so discouraged I stopped.

But you can learn it again. Slowly, sometimes. More slowly than I wished. But the door isn't locked, or even closed, just a bit stuck.

Some things I did that helped me:

1. Short story anthologies. I know there are "best of the year" anthologies for horror and scifi/fantasy, and I picked a couple up.

2. Try different mediums. I can finally read on my Kindle again, but I digest material much better when I can annotate with paper. Play around. You aren't locked in

3. Read out loud, to yourself or others. One of my happiest memories of a really shitty time of my life was reading "The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas' to my friend while she was driving on a road trip. Speaking makes you slow down and personally helps me keep my mind from wandering as easy, since I'm engaging in two ways.

4. Reread a book you cared about as a kid. For me it was Where The Red Fern Grows and Frankenstein. Not so familiar you skim, but use those preexisting positive feelings.

5. Let yourself be frustrated. The number of times that first novel I had to close my book and walk up and down the hallway a few times is in the dozens. It's frustrating. That's okay.

6. Seriously, you might get frustrated. You are reacquainting your brain with a rusty skill, and building back up for ability to focus your attention. When my therapist asked me to try meditation, it was a very similar set of mental muscles flexing. If you wander, it's not a punishable offense, just redirect yourself back. You did good just by recognizing you were wandering.

7. Set aside time and create a ritual. I read first thing in the morning for twenty minutes before my walk, while the taste of the mint toothpaste lingers. While my mouth tingles, I read (and these days, I read until my backup timer goes off, since I'm beginning to be able to immerse myself quickly again.)

I really hope this helps someone, because as a once avid reader, I felt so ashamed and, well, just plain stupid, when I realized I couldn't anymore.

(and if you don't want to, that's fine too! There's so many great ways to engage with narrative and story. But I wanted to read again, and I'm glad I struggled my way back home.)

[pacific-rimbaud]

Thank you SO MUCH for your panville works. I find it therapeutic to read the caring and deeply loving dynamic you embed in them. Also love how you deal with Pansy's background and trauma. While she is by no means unprivileged, I think her wounds resonate deeply with anyone for whom parental love was unstable in childhood. Your writing inspires me so much. I hope you know the positive impact you have on fellow internet strangers. Fr I've reread a dress with pockets more times I care to admit and RoT is on its 3rd re read because it helps me deal with shitty days.

I have two questions regarding your own visualization of the characters in RoT that may fall out of the scope of the actual story (I imagine you might not delve into these too much even if you do have an idea of them in your head)

1. Do you imagine Pansy's mother's own trauma too, when you write? Like what are the wounds that made her such a cold/unloving parent to Pansy?

Ive been thinking of it as being classic objectification of pureblood women for future marriage. Like Pansy's mother never wanted to have a child but was forced to because she's a woman and that's her duty. Would you agree with this or is she a much more sinister character?

2. In what concrete ways would you say Pansy's strengths complemented Neville's weaknesses when they began dating? We see their relationship in a super specific context where they are in their late 20s but Pansy's growth got somewhat reverted to her teenage/younger years (so it makes complete sense we see her mostly being taken care of by Neville!!). But I ask because Harry's witty response to Pansy regarding Neville "deserving what he wants" made me feel a bit sad.

Like I get that Neville's a lot more emotionally sound than she is, but I guess it made me think about whether Pansy's life is "earned" beyond her trying to be better just for Neville's sake.

I imagine her fierce protectiveness of those she loves and her ability to set boundaries without taking people's shit must have been very attractive to a younger Neville?

Sorry if this question is too obvious. I think it hits close. I relate with Pansy's trauma and waking up one day as Neville's wife would indeed feel like heaven (thank you again Harry!). But I could not imagine being able to correspond to a love like that in ways that society traditionally categorizes as love.

Much love. Thank you again for sharing your beautiful brain with us xx

Thank you so much for reading! Truly so appreciative that anyone takes the time to follow a novel-length rare pair fic.

Answers under the cut!

Pansy's mother did not want kids. Full stop. Her father was indifferent to the idea, but definitely didn't want to marry Pansy's mother. My headcanon is that Pansy's mother had an ill-advised fling with Pansy's entitled rake of a father as a young woman, became pregnant, and was compelled to enter into a miserable, lonely marriage and raise a child she had absolutely no affection for. Pansy's father was interested when he chose to be, which wasn't often. Nonexistent or unreliable attachment all around. And so it's clear, this characterization isn't an excuse or attempted explanation for Pansy's cruelty as a child. I've known many casually cruel children over the years. It's not at all unusual. Heartbreaking and yet garden variety example: a few socioeconomically privileged kids in my son's class recently approached another group of children, some of whom have serious challenges at home, and told them that their mothers didn't love them as much as their mothers. Kids can be mind-bogglingly vicious people, even with the "right" parenting. They're kids! Their brains aren't fully cooked yet. Moving the empathy needle and fostering healthy culture in a school requires skillful adult intervention, which obviously was not happening at Hogwarts. Pansy's upbringing in this story is an explanation for why she struggles to be vulnerable, why she's so deeply haunted by a history of feeling unlovable, and why the prospect of motherhood in general and an unplanned pregnancy in particular carries a special horror for her. Basically what makes your second question a little tricky to answer....

...because she's such an unreliable witness to her own life in this. I love fanon Pansy more than anything. She's abrasive, sometimes filterless, terrifyingly perceptive, doesn't suffer fools. Which I just love so much. She's someone who cannot be other than herself, and that self is often pretty spiky. But if someone can get inside, she's also unrestrained in her tenderness. Once Pansy is on your side, you're ride or die. She'd do anything for you. Definitely would help you bury a body. And what I deeply love about Panville is that Neville gets to go further: he gets the innermost parts of her, which truly are so, so sweet and open and loving. She's an incredible partner. Neville has it made and knows it. And to try to answer your question, I don't tend to think about what they bring to the table, or whether anyone "deserves" anything, which is the error Pansy keeps making. I see them very much in the vein of, "I was in the middle before I knew I that I had begun." They're the catching feelings pair, whether it's friends to lovers or casual hook up to something more, because absolutely no way does she ever go into anything at all intending to be vulnerable. But he has the intuition of someone used to paying attention from the sidelines. He's curious. There's something there. He doesn't know what it is, but he'd like to. With enough patience, she unfurls. It's about the power of attentiveness and the inexplicable magic of deep connection. The payoff for Neville risking getting close enough to Pansy to peek inside is a spiky little wife who can't get enough of him in bed, has a full life of her own with passions and interests and relationships and is also deeply invested in their domestic happiness. She is profoundly, unswervingly in his corner. She sees and knows him. The payoff for Pansy risking her heart is this beautiful, kind, loyal man who adores her and whose sensibilities and preferences perfectly align with her own practical nature. He also happens to make great scones. Neither of them grew up understanding what they have was even possible, and I hope it's clear in the story that they both deserve every minute of it. 💜

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

Hey Rags! Sorry, I just need to get this out of my system and ramble for a moment in your ask box. I just reread 'hot in Sarajevo' and I just have to tell you, how much I love the characterization of the woman in your fics. In the cod community, so many times the reader is described as cute, some sweet giggling angelic ray of sunshine (and don't get me started on all the size kink stuff...) and I can see the appeal of pairing these rough military dudes with their polar opposite, but... bro I really can't relate. ^^ I'm not cute. I'm not weak and fragile. I'm fucking 1,83m tall with a more serious bitch vibe and I'd rather die before you'll see me wearing something pink or cutesy. That's why I love Rivka so much for example! She's tough, she doesn't take anyones bullshit, but she's genuinely caring and she's a steady presence for König to rely on and hold onto when things are shitty. I can see myself so much more in her. I love to care for and pamper my man, be there for him in any situation, but I'm not your adorable little housewife...

And I hope you or anyone else won't take this as some kind of 'I'm not like the other girls' bullshit. All power to the cute and dainty ladies out there! But I just wanted to say, that I love the way you give the boys a tough and confident, but deeply caring partner in crime.

i'm so sorry for taking so long to answer this, but i've legitimately been gently holding it to my chest for the last couple of days reading and re-reading it with the BIGGEST fucking grin on my face. <3 <3

i promise, it doesn't at ALL come off as 'i'm not like other girls,' at least not to ME, bc i'm in the exact same boat, and i can't tell you how incandescent it makes me to hear that you feel a connection with rivka (who we all know is the reader i put in all of my konig fics lmao). and she, and all of my other oc's, are purposefully built they way they are bc i almost never see me when i'm reading, esp in this fandom.

like, i'm 5'7, i've got broad shoulders and hard features and big hands. i'm not small and dainty, i'm never going to be small and dainty, my bones simply won't allow it--too many generations of big men and hardy women and starvation-survival and lifetimes of working with hands went into my blood for me to be anything else. and my personality is anything but ingenue, i'm coarse and i'm loud and i can be outright cold or cruel when warranted.

i go into everything i write trying to satisfy my need to see what are considered 'unpleasant' main characters with their 'ugly' bits on full display, and the wish fulfillment of having these canon characters i love finding these sorts of physical and mental aspects not only acceptable, but borderline divine. and i am so so SO over the moon to hear that it hit those notes for you too, nonny!!! if nothing else, at the end of the day, i am writing for an audience of US, and i am so proud and pleased to do it if i accomplished my mission and it brings you the joy it brings me (((': <3 <;3 <3

[aprillikesthings]

I'm awake, I'm drinking coffee, and I'm waiting for some laundry to get done before I do some homework for my Bible/theology discussion thingie (EfM, for the handful of Episcopal nerds I've become mutuals with) (....who didn't give up tumblr for Lent)

So I might as well watch some She-Ra, right?

s4 ep4 pulse

(Side note I posted a short fic yesterday if you're interested)

PLOT

I've read the synopsis and I'm not sure if there's much I'm gonna screenshot/talk about with this one

does this character have a NAME? I forget

the bit of animation of Double Trouble shifting out of "Flutterina" is pretty great, someone clearly had fun with it

(Do you think it takes effort to stay in another "shape"? Amethyst in SU clearly had to put forth effort the whole time, whereas I think Double Trouble doesn't, other than the acting part.)

"Espionage is a long game, kitten."

Catra is Amused

Double Trouble: "This is supposed to be fun!" Catra: ":( this is supposed to be war" Double Trouble: "No reason it can't be both :)"

Me, A Human in a Non-Fictional Universe: there are many good reasons it should not be both but I suspend them for fiction

Double Trouble literally makes a foreshadowing joke, I love them

...is it all poisonous plants

I mean that does look like foxglove

She's laying it on pretty thick imho

eugh

STOP TOUCHING PEOPLE'S FACES oh my god

are they going to drill down to the Cluster

(how many Steven Universe references am I gonna make by the time I'm done rewatching THIS cartoon)

nope don't like that

I was rereading that one "missing scene" fic that Nate posted and in it Adora talks about how doing the healing thing here is actually fucking exhausting and makes her sore all over. If you were wondering why she doesn't do it all the time.

It also doesn't entirely heal the person in question; they still have to rest a lot!

One person: suggests, even slightly, that the Horde is somehow tracking She-Ra Adora: OBVIOUSLY THIS IS ALL MY FAULT

Meanwhile, Glimmer:

(she also blames herself)

oooooh I forgot

She's talking to Double Trouble but I still cackled

oh god Glimmer goes to Shadow Weaver to ask "how to think like Catra, since you know her best," and while Glimmer isn't wrong in that Shadow Weaver is the only one around (other than Adora) who knows Catra at all, it's just.....eugggghhhh

DUH

Okay the "what do those do" "those are daisies, I find them cheerful" is actually pretty funny

every time she gets into someone's personal space like that it's creepy as shit

....she's not wrong. Part of me is like "lol even Shadow Weaver knows" but tbqfh she probably knows better than anyone considering how much she used their mutual affection to abuse them. >:(

what is it with lesbians and game nights (she says, knowing she bought the boardgames Wingspan and Ticket to Ride as Christmas gifts for a partner) (actually it's been a while since we played I should suggest it again)

"people don't come to game night because YOU insist on serving vegetable platters" okay is this a "lesbians are vegetarians" joke are they gonna mention hummus next lolol

"no one likes vegetable platters!" D: I do (...with hummus, even)

anyway they get surrounded by drill bots, meanwhile Glimmer sneaks up on Catra

"wtf?"

(she literally thinks it's Double Trouble at first lol)

I love it when Catra's just like IMMA BITE

please tell me the Glitra shippers reference this line as often as possible

Poor Adora, Glimmer is straight up like "I will continue using you as a decoy--I mean a distraction :) while I destroy shit" and Adora, well--

This actually reminds me of a conversation on reddit the other day, about how people who've always had happy families (or at least, no truly shitty family members) often cannot wrap their minds around the idea that someone who is nice to them could be an abusive piece of shit to someone else, and you end up in these situations where naive people try to force a reconciliation or pull a "but they're your faaaaaamily" or just straight-up don't believe your version of events, because nobody could be that horrible to their own kids, right???? I don't think that's what Glimmer's doing here but it still sucks for Adora.

"I'll bring back some cake!" lol I forgot about this line when I wrote my fic (linked above) but I'm glad this is canon, that she just raids the kitchen, and specifically for cake XD

ehehehehehhehheh

also we see Catra hand Double Trouble an actual little bag of (presumably) coins, what currency do you think Etheria uses??? Like who sets the standard for it. The most obvious thing would be that it's just coins of some standardized weight of a metal rare enough to be valuable. But it's funny to ask yourself if it's like, the kind of coins with someone's face on it, because whose face would it be?! Because then either the Horde and everyone else would be using different currencies (which would be useless across sides) or they're all using the same currency. Some obscure person from Etherian history, probably.

Also I'm not sure the Horde actually pays anyone. I think it's just "you can get enough to eat (barely), and a place to sleep (sort of), and uhhh you can fight each other over getting a small step up in power"

As usual I am overthinking the world-building here lolll

okay episode over :D time to flip the laundry

[seven-oomen]

Hi, Ben!  I’m sorry it’s been a bad pain day, and I hope it’s gotten a bit better!  So, I’ve been having severe writer’s block for a while, but with all the hubbub around the movie I finally started working on some of my WIPs.  And one of the ideas I’d had was for a fluffy comfort fic for the boys, and since it’s been a shitty few days and I managed to actually get everything out of my head and onto the screen for this one, uh, here, have the first thing I’ve finished in like two years?  (Holy shit, I finished something?!)  I was gonna put it on AO3, but wasn’t sure if/how to make it private since it’s kinda technically another post-OUAT inspired fic and I wanted to check with you first before posting it?  I tried to avoid any specific references to much.  Also, I only reread it like once and gave it only the vaguest hint of editing because I was trying to do time zone math in my head, and I can’t even manage to think of a title right now.  In case you’re curious, the movies mentioned are Jungleground (which does indeed feature a very bby JR, thank you for that IMDb), Mortal Kombat (because obviously), and WolfCop.  Anyway, enjoy, and I hope it makes your day a bit better!  *HUGS!!!*

If it is anything like this wonderful fic gift below, you have my blanket permission to use the OUAT universe for all your fic writing inspiration. My only requests is that you send me the link to said fics so I may read them too.

Because B, you cannot send me this much cuteness at 1:30 am and not expect me to absolutely flip the fuck out and go to sleep with a smile on my face. I absolutely fucking love this so much, holy shit, and I have FEELINGS. And if I wasn’t half asleep already, I would be writing fic with these feelings. (But alas I have been fighting sleep since 9pm and I am falling over, so writing will have to wait until the morning).

But I am so freaking excited to write more of that buddycop fic now and this is FEEDING ME. Watered my crops, blessed my day. It is a wonderful gift and one that I treasure with all my heart.

Placed the Dilf club/Stetopher sr fic gift under a readmore for people’s dash, but it is very cute, mentions a/b/o, but is fluff/comfort. It’s based/ in the universe of Once Upon a Time

Untitled Shameless Fluffy Comfort Gift Attempt:

Noah handed over the last bag to Melissa with a slightly rueful smile. With a look like she was doing her absolute best not to laugh at him, she got stowed it away with the rest in the trunk, while he leaned into the back seat to give both the twins one final kiss goodbye for the night. They barely seemed to even register it as they continued to giggle and grizzle at each other, staring around the unfamiliar vehicle in wonder from beneath their many layers.

“Thanks, Mel, I’ll owe you one.” He gave her a brief but thorough hug in deference to the chill winds whipping around the driveway and tossing her dark hair around like a banner.

“I don’t mind in the slightest, you know that. They’re too tiny to be too much trouble yet, and frankly I love to see the look of low-key panic on Scott’s face when he sees me with them because he’s worried I’m going to start asking about grandkids.”

Noah snorted out a laugh and gave her one last squeeze before stepping back. “Well, glad to be of assistance then.”

“Exactly. Speaking of, get back in there and look after my other boy. It’s freezing out here, and I’ve got these two.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he cheekily replied, tossing her a jaunty salute as he stepped back inside. He waited until he saw her drive off with a last wave before heading towards his bedroom.

Chris was still curled up where he’d left him, looking miserable but clearly trying to be stoic about it. They all had their fair share of recurring aches these days, courtesy of both the creeping march of time and the sometimes rather unfortunate events of their lives, but due to both his father’s…well, Noah might call them training methods if he were feeling particularly generous about it, which he rarely was…and a couple of hunts gone rather severely wrong, Chris’ bad pain days tended to be far worse than Noah or Peter’s. A passing weather system was causing plummeting temperatures and frankly horrendous pressure changes, and Noah was currently feeling occasional twinges in places he didn’t even know could twinge. He couldn’t even imagine how much worse it was for his husband right now.

Exchanging his more outdoor appropriate attire for a t-shirt and flannel pants, he gingerly climbed up onto the bed and curled up as close as he could to where Chris was propped up with the specially shaped and supportive pillows left over from Noah’s pregnancy, a heating pad across his shoulders and around one knee. At least two layers of blankets were draped over him to help hold the heat in, with more piled at his feet if needed. He leaned over and pressed a gentle, lingering kiss to ruffled ashen locks, his hand almost instinctively reaching out to tangle with Chris’, his thumb stroking soothingly along one side as their rings clinked quietly against each other. A brief green glow lit up their twined fingers as he sent a burst of healing energy across. Some of the tension flowed out of Chris’ muscles, letting him melt more comfortably into the cushions, and Noah. He knew it wouldn’t help for terribly long- neither it nor the pain drain did- but it was something he could do to help at least ease some of his soulmate’s suffering, so he’d do it as frequently as Chris would let him.

“Still doing okay?”

Chris heaved a soft sigh and tilted his head to nuzzle his cheek against Noah’s. “No worse, at least.” There was the faintest twitch of Chris’ shoulders in what appeared to be an attempt at a shrug.

“Is it time for your meds yet?”

“I don’t really want to take any more for a bit if I can help it, make me feel too fuzzy,” he said with a slow shake of his head.

“Need anything?”

“Just you.” Chris sent him teasing look up through his lashes with the tiniest little adorable smirk on his face. Noah very badly wanted to kiss it off him, but figured that would be starting something his husband was in no shape to finish. “And Peter,” Chris continued with a glance past Noah’s shoulder, “if he ever manages to make it back.”

They’d managed to clear the house of all but themselves for the day so Chris could have some peace (they loved their kids, but there were just. So many of them.) The older kids were all at a party at Kira’s house (he supposed if anyone could keep most of their hellions and a handful of other kids under control, a 900 yr old kitsune could…), Ben was at a sleepover at a friend’s, and Melissa had generously offered to take the twins to her place since she’d had only a short, early shift today. The resulting freedom had lead to their husband announcing that it was high time they acquired some new films for their collection that they could enjoy for the first time without any “extraneous familial commentary.” After ascertaining that Peter was not intending to buy them any more porn, Noah reluctantly sent him to scavenge the used DVD section of the local Half-Price Books, slightly concerned what sort of travesties he might return home with, but knowing that their Alpha desperately needed to get out and do something to feel useful.

Almost as if Chris’ words had summoned him, Noah felt a tingling on the edge of his awareness that he only ever got around his husbands just as he caught the heavily muffled whir of the garage door opening and closing. Sure enough, Peter soon came waltzing in, one of their reusable bags dangling from his fingers and an elegant cream-colored box in his hand.

“Greetings my lovelies. I come bearing gifts,” he breezily announced, tossing his windblown hair out of his face with a move like he was in a damned shampoo ad. Noah was deeply irritated at how well he pulled it off.

Peter laid the items at the end of the bed and stripped off his coat and jeans, pulling his phone from his pocket and tossing it haphazardly towards the headboard. He gathered up the bag and box without bothering to put anything else on, climbing up next to the two of them in just his boxers and henley. Leaving his video findings to the side for the moment, he very carefully placed the box in Chris’ lap, lifting up the top flap with a surprising minimum of flair. The bounty contained within was a luscious looking pile of chocolate iced cream puffs, the scent of strawberries and cream wafting heavily in the air. They looked freshly made and richly decadent.

“My route home happened to take me past that patisserie you’re so fond of just in time for a new batch of these to be coming out.” He received matching fondly exasperated looks for the sheer unlikelihood of that statement, but neither called him on it. “I thought they’d make excellent snacks for our viewing marathon if you feel up to eating at any point.” As he spoke, he leaned in and sniffed delicately at Chris’ neck to try and get a read on his mood. Finishing with a soft nuzzle to his temple, he leaned back and glanced between the two Omega’s gazes.

“Thank you, Peter.” Chris’ face lit up with that happy little smile that always made Noah’s heart flutter, the faintest hint of a blush suffusing his cheeks. It was far preferable to the pale, pinched look he’d had most of the day, and Noah wanted to kiss Peter for putting it there. And also because his gorgeous husband was currently half naked and wearing smirk that managed to be somehow smug and shy all at the same time. And because he’d been gone for more than a couple of hours now and he still hadn’t gotten an I’m-home-and-I-missed-you kiss. Okay so he maybe had a lot of reasons to want to kiss Peter. Sue him.

Chris glanced consideringly down at the box, biting at his lip. “The nausea from the pain meds is still fading, but should probably be gone by the time we decide on a movie. I’ll look forward to them.”

With a happy little nod Peter moved the box to the far nightstand and snatched up the bag of DVDs. “Very well, gentleman. Allow me to share the wondrous artifacts I unearthed for us today.” Looking at the design of the labels on a couple of them, Noah wasn’t entirely certain Peter was kidding about that. He’d easily guess those titles to be fifteen to twenty years old at least. Their Alpha proudly scooped up one and held it up for their inspection.

“This delightful little dystopian number stars a former wrestler as a cop who gets captured by a gang of adorably young would be drug-runners and has to rescue both himself and his lady love. It looks astoundingly, laughably bad, but the gang leader is just absolutely precious, so I just couldn’t resist.” Noah wasn’t even sure where to start with that, and Chris was already looking amusedly resigned. Peter switched out the DVD for the next one, which Noah recognized and then had to fight the urge to facepalm.

“Next, we have this amazing cult classic that I know for a fact you have not had the joy of experiencing yet, Chris. I have had the pleasure, but it’s been rather a while and I was feeling nostalgic.”

“…Is that the one where they’re fighting demon ninjas to save the world or something…?”

“Indeed it is, in a glorious and amusing display of horrendously cheesy effects and impressive martial arts. So many sexy people beating on each other; it’s really quite enjoyable. I’m rather fond of one of the male leads myself.” He gave an exaggerated little shimmy. “Love me a man who can do the splits.” Chris rolled his eyes with an intensity that would have dropped him back into the pillows if he weren’t already there at that declaration, while Noah just reached up to pinch between his eyebrows for a moment. Blithely ignoring both of them, Peter swapped for the last DVD case. A gun-wielding Wolf Man style werewolf in a deputy’s uniform snarled out from the cover. Noah pinched a bit harder.

“This one is rather new, but I’ve heard good things about it. It’s also supposed to be mind-numbingly cheesy, but surprisingly smart at the same time. Also it’s apparently chock-full of references to older, well-known classics of the werewolf genre.” Noah could practically feel the rant about lore inaccuracies building up under his fellow Omega’s skin. That sort of thing tended to drive Chris absolutely crazy, but it was so cute to watch him vent (a refreshing change to his tendency to suppress most things in the interest of harmony) that they just couldn’t help themselves sometimes. “From what I understand the first part of him to shift is his dick.” Noah dropped his forehead to Chris’ shoulder just in time to feel the full body twitch that went through the hunter.

“You do recall that I mentioned I picked up the box set for Stargate: Atlantis the other day, right? You know, the one with Jason Momoa? I told you both about that, right?” Noah tried with much desperation but little hope to dissuade his husband from his chosen films.

“Yes, yes, dear, so you’ve said several times now. We’ll get to that eventually,” Peter replied without even pulling his gaze from his perusal of the back of the case. He distractedly reached over and picked up the Omega’s joined hands, lifting them up to place an absent, if drawn out kiss to the back of Noah’s. At the same time, he saw black lines begin to snake up his veins from where his fingers linked with Chris’ own. Chris sagged gratefully back into his cushions, sighing somewhat blissfully at his temporary reprieve. Noah was tempted to keep arguing, if only for the sake of his eyeballs, but the wolf looked calmer and less frazzled than he had since they’d first realized it was going to be one of THOSE days for their husband, and Chris looked more comfortable than he had in a while, so he resigned himself to his fate with a mostly performative reluctance.

“Let’s get this horrorshow on the road, then,” he said, snuggling in closer to Chris. Peter snorted, grabbing up the first DVD and heading over to the TV stand. The deliberate sway to his hips as he walked was confirmed as he reached the TV and threw a sassy wink back over his shoulder. The two Omegas didn’t even bother to pretend any innocence, raising their eyebrows at him in sync as they continued to appreciate the view. He shamelessly repeated his performance on the way back to the bed, grabbing another blanket to layer over them as he crawled up to press as close as he could to Chris’ other side. Noah managed to snake an arm between a fold in the pillows so that he could reach across to Peter without jostling Chris, and placed a grounding hand at the bend of the Alpha’s shoulder and neck. The tensed muscles there loosened fractionally, and he felt Peter drop a grateful peck to the side of his wrist in thanks. Giving a quick squeeze of their still clasped hands, Noah caught a glimpse of that tiny smile back on Chris’ face as he tucked his own into the side of Chris’ head on the pillow, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo and trying (and sadly failing) to ignore everything that was happening on the screen.

Ah well, he thought, not an entirely terrible day at least.

[withoneheadlight]

hellooooo it’s nsfw anon here with even more thoughts !! Ok so I literally cannot get your post about steve making billy come just by kissing outta my damn mind so imma brain dump it on you Rn.

So like yeah, billy finds out that Steve can do /that/ but he doesn’t realise that it’s literally only the tip of the iceberg with Steve. Billy has slept around before and but he’s always been the one to take care of his partners so he’s just not used to the way steve takes care of him, how he talks to him sweet and dirty while his hands and mouth roam Billy’s body, teasing him until he’s literally out of his mind with it.

One morning he wakes up in Steve’s bed already hard and dripping from his already forgotten dream, but he’s rutting and whining softly into the sheets, Steve nowhere in sight but his side do the bed still warm. Billy still isn’t used to waking up feeling soft and content so he indulges himself, rolling his hips into the bed while he imagines Steve’s mouth on him again. They haven’t exactly gone at it for a while so he’s extra needy and comes quickly, panting and shaking. He’s still dazed when he feels the bed dipping when Steve crawls to lay over him, slotting his hard cock between Billy’s ass with a “that feel good baby? Yeah? You sounded so good whining my name out, sugar” and billy just- he hasn’t even recovered from his first orgasm nor is he fully awake but he already feels his dick twitching again, arching his back to stick his ass out more for steve. And Steve just can’t help himself. He hasn’t had time alone with billy for a while and he hasn’t had him this soft and dazed since they both found out he could make billy come just from his tongue so he spends the better part of the hour teasing billy. Kissing every inch of his body, biting at his nipples, sucking on his jaw and of course fucking his tongue in and out of Billy’s mouth, a favourite for them both. And that’s all before he starts eating billy out until he cries and finally, /finally/ when billy is wrecked with sobs and his eyes are big blue and teary, does Steve slip into him, whispering into his ear. “Yeah baby? That what you need? Just need somethin in you don’t you? Filling you up and stretching you out good. So good for me, Bill.” And billy can’t even think let alone respond. He has a mix of tears drool puddled under his cheek and he’s overwhelmed because what the /fuck/? Nobody’s every treated him like this. And Steve’s being so sweet, taking care of him and cooing at all his whimpers and whines, but the filth coming out of his mouth makes him feel dirty in the best way, makes him feel like a slut and maybe finally it clicks for him? This is the king Steve everyone was talking about. Yeah ok bye that’s all I have I worked myself up with that so I’m gonna drink some water before I pass out and let u do what u want with this bye bye luv u !!

Holy shit NSFW!ANON you live up to you name don't you? You killed me with this. Death by brain-bonner. So. Fucking. Hot. 

And also, Billy getting like this because the way Steve takes care of him it's the biggest turn-on of his life??? HELL YESS "Billy still isn’t used to waking up feeling soft and content so he indulges himself, rolling his hips into the bed while he imagines Steve’s mouth on him again" the hottest thing, I tell you, rutting + sleepiness + happiness + king steve + "eating billy out until he cries" there's something better??? no it's not! 

And ohhhhhh God. I bet it's Steve too who got him like that. Bet he does it sometimes, feeding filthy words into Billy's ear on those sweet moments between wakefulness and slumber, sneaking into the remnants of his dream like the wet dream he himself is, making Billy hard and leaking with the mere sound of his voice and the things  he says. Oh, the things he says.

Bet it isn't the first time Steve has make him cum just from that, wrapping his arms around billy afterwards, kissing him fully awake with lips that can't get fully rid of a suspicious, satisfied grin, Billy's cum still hot between their bodies "Mmmmph, why are you looking at me like that, Steven?" and Steve's laughter vibrating in both their mouths as he keeps on kissing him "'Cause I'm pretty sure you had a hell of a dream, babe. Pretty sure I was in there" and Billy getting suddenly aware of the sticky wetness covering their bellies and blushing all over because Steve is using his King Steve Voice and Billy not only came all over himself but he's also getting hard a g a i n and Steve was insufferably full of himself already but for the look on his face Billy can tell he has just make it even worse (again) but, you know what? He couldn't care less now because Steve makes him feel loved and happy and cherished so he can pay the small (–ish) price of bearing with his gigantic ego  xD xD xD.

(ok, that was probably too much? xD. IM SORRY. sometimes i just lose it nsfw!anon but i love so much the idea of billy having and 'easy trigger' even easier when it comes to our stevie boy here. and that combined with this idea of steve being very very good at making him cum and being the fucking  w o r s t about it sometimes but being so tender and so caring with billy at the same time, making him feel loved and safe simply ends me. ends me anon. and omg i'm thinking that, it gets sooooo bad, when billy finally finds out about the dream thing and steve won't stop being the cockiest bastard about making billy come with the sole power of his voice and in his dreams ("c'mon, hargrove. just admit it. i'm the hottest thing you can think of. i'm peak hottness on your mind") that one day billy makes this stupid comment to piss him off, calls him 'the cum whisperer' but like ironically, like "yeah, steven. you're so good, steven. you're a cum whisperer, steven. are you happy now?" rolling his eyes and all but, BUT—oh, steve IS happy. too happy. steve of course e m b r a c e s it, smug  and as he is, and now he calls himself 'the cum whisperer' and billy life is now a big 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️, but like VERY HAPPY 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️so not that bad. more like not bad at all. because he's— pretty much in love with his bratty, stupidly adorable king steve, he just refuses to give him the satisfaction to say it out loud (too much, anyway xD))

(aaand this is my cue to not answer things when i'm sleepy, i end up raving. xD. ignore me please)

 This was FANTASTIC nsfw!anon, and brightened my day in so many ways!! 🌟🌟🌟🌟🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥. I'll look forward for your asks if you want/feel in the mood/have the time to send them 💖💖💖 I love you and love seeing you around so much.

[nahoyaglock]

↬ BEACH DATE

bf!bakugou x fem!reader, fluff, 1.7k words

A/N! i did not reread or fix anything in here, so im so sorry abt bad grammar or spelling errors or smth. inspired by jj (@prettysetterbaby) and her answer to what her dream date is, say thank you jj

"spending my day up at a beach house, eating out to some nice sushi or something and spending the day shopping and eventually relaxing on the beach <333" — JJ

likes and reblogs are very appreciated !!!

you planned on spending a day with your boyfriend, katsuki. you swung your arms as you waited on the porch of your boyfriends house, watching him slip his shoes on through his open door. once he finished, he grabbed his bag and exited his house, locking the door behind him after shouting a "goodbye" to his mom.

you hopped on one foot excitedly as you linked arms with katsuki, him sending you a cocky grin. "you ready to have the best day ever princess?" he asked, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead.

"any day with you is the best day ever." you stated and nudged him with your elbow. he rolled his eyes playfully and chuckled. "god, your so cheesy."

you guys arrived at the subway station and took seats next to the window. katsuki wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close to him, moving his hand up to play with your hair. katsuki knew it would be a while till you guys got to your stop, so he let you relax against his figure and even take a small nap.

he made sure to make sure you didnt mess up your light makeup, knowing you'd be upset since you left your makeup at home, or fixing your hair whenever you shifted so it wouldn't get tangled. after almost 2 hours of riding, you felt a light shake of your arm, and slowly sat up.

you went to wipe your face but felt katsukis arms stop you. "don't ruin your makeup princess." he said and you giggled tiredly, still trying to shake off the sleep as he helped you stand. "thanks katsu." you yawned and he dragged you out the subway train so you didn't miss the open doors.

katsuki pulled out a water bottle and handed it to you and you took it, taking small sips. you smiled as you screwed the top back on, placing it in his bag and taking his hand in yours. "my katsu is so caring, huh?" you ask, turning to see your boyfriends slightly pink cheeks.

"yeah, whatever." he mumbled and patted your head, earning a giggle. "you wanna eat first?" he asked as you guys stepped out of the subway station. it was a bit of a walk to the pier, so you guys had small conversation.

you linked your arm with his and looked up at him, "yeah, lets get some, uh.. oh! sushi!" you bounced and shot a big smile at your boyfriend, one he just couldn't refuse. "fine, you crazy woman," he patted your head and shot you a smirk, "my woman." you rolled your eyes and walked closer to your boyfriend, slightly leaning against him.

the sun beat down on you two as you made your way to the pier, eventually arriving. you felt the cool breeze from the ocean, versus the heat from the summer sun, it was refreshing. you two walked down the pier to find a place to eat, one that had sushi of course. "oh, katsu!" you called tugging on your boyfriends arm and pointing to a restaurant.

he turned his head and smiled in the direction of the restaurant. "good eye babe." he held your hand and you two entered the restaurant. after waiting for a waiter to lead you to your table, katsuki shot you a smile. "someone looks mighty happy huh?"

you kicked his leg under the table with a giggle. "of course, who wouldn't when they're with their favorite boy at a sushi restaurant." you stated and reached over to oinch katsukis slightly tinted cheeks. "someones turning red~" you teased and earned a scoff from the ash blonde sitting across from you.

"yeah, whatever woman." he rolled his eyes as the waiter came over to take your orders, and after a few minutes of waiting, your food was served and you two dug in. "hey babe." katsuki caught your attention, looking at you with a sort of blank expression. "hmm, what is it katsu?" you asked as you took a sip of your drink. "i was just thinking, do you want to do a bit of shopping before we go to the beach? theres alot of nice shops on the pier." he said and took a bite of his food.

you smiled and nodded at him, "of course id wanna shop, why? was there something you wanted to get?" you asked, raising a brow at him with a smile. he nodded and took a sip of his drink before replying. "shark tooth necklace." he said with a smirk.

you groaned and rolled your eyes playfully. your eyes kinda hurt from how many times you've done that today. "i should've known." you chuckled out, continuing to eat. he furrowed his brows slightly, watching you with a small frown. "is there something wrong with that." his expression made you almost frown at how upset he looked.

"oh my katsu! i didn't mean it like that!" i nearly shouted, cupping his face and placing a small kiss to his lips. "i just meant that i should've known its something you'd want! its actually really cute." you say and search his face for any change in expression.

hos lips turn up into a playful smiled as he lets out a laugh, "i know shitty woman, i was just messing." your jaw dropped as he took another bite of his food. you sit back and cross your arms glaring at him. "first thing im buying is some boxing gloves."

after your meal, you guys split the bill and head out to explore the shops on the pier. you find a cute little flower shop, some surfboard stands, lots and lots of food places, and a small gift shop. a few other stores too, but those were the ones you guys visited.

katsuki looked around the gift shop for a shark tooth necklace as you toyed with anything that caught your eyes. you found some cute earings, shark week magazines, snacks– you made sure to grab a bag of chips and some gummies –and other stuff.

you were about to pass up the necklace section till something caught your eye. a shark tooth necklace! you made sure to grab it and find katsuki. as you ran up to him, surprising him with a backhug, you held your hand infront of his face, letting the necklace dangle infront of his face.

"wha- babe!" he said and grabbed the necklace, looking at it with an excited smile. he turned to you and kissed you, holding you close by your waist. you were shocked by his sudden action, but when he pulled away you chuckled and smacked his chest with your palm. "damn katsuki, you really wanted it that bad?" you ask.

he chuckles and nodded at you. he lifted his hand and mimicked the way you dangled the necklace, but in his hand was a cute jellyfish plushie. you squeaked and grabbed it, looking down at it with a wide smile. "thought my princess would like this, hmm?" he asked and you hugged him.

after buying your items, plus a bunch of random snacks katsuki grabbed last minute, you two make your way to the beach. the WAAA alk alomg the pier is pretty, seeing the tall trees and shining sun refelecting off the vibrant green grass and the beautiful blue ocean.

once you two arrive at the beach, katsuki sets down his bag and pulls out a large blanket. you stand a bit farther away from your boyfriend and closer to the ocean, watching as kids played in the waves and surfers rode them. you bounced excitedly and waddled over to your boyfriend, watching him set the blanket onto the sand.

"katsu katsu katsu!!" you giggled with excitement as he sat down onto the blanket, anchored down by anything heavy enough to keep it from blowing away, though the wind wasnt too strong luckily. "yeah yeah, put on some sunscreen idiot." he said as he motioned you over. you took a seat on the blanket infront of bakugou, smiling at him as he helped you put on sunscreen.

after you two finished, he put the sunscreen away and grabbed your hand as he stood up. you suggested that you walk along the shore as the sun set, and after spending a while eating and shopping, it was almost time. "cmon! lets go katsuuu!"

he watched you as you dragged him towards the waves, big smile on your face and he swore that your eyes sparkled. he squeezed your hand tightly as he gazed past you at the ocean. you two watched the waves dance and crash and the beautiful pink sky slowly fade into a dark purple hue.

feeling the ocean on your feet, you turned to your boyfriend, met with a gaze, and expression that you aren't quite able to read. "whats that look katsu?" you asked, smiling as he released your hand and wrapped his arm around your waist. "dont worry about it dummy," he joked and you pouted at b b him, "love."

you felt your face heat up and you elbowed him lightly. "im serious katsu, like deadass." you turned to look at the waves. "im deadass too. you know i love you.. i don't get serious like this often so just accept it dummy." he said and lightly flicked your cheek. you smiled up at your ash blonde boyfriend, and jumped up to place a kiss on his cheek.

the sky shifted to a darker blue tone, white specks twinkling in the sky. stars, just like the ones bakugou sees in your eyes. your eyes were his galaxy and your smile was his sun.

as your boyfriend watched the stars twinkle, you watched him, his small smile warming your heart and his eyes twinkling, reflecting the beautiful scatter of dots in the sky.

you two had so much love for each other, so much care and passion. small moments like these may be simple, things considered cliches, but all those cliche stories made sense in that moment. those cliches were true and you were happy to be experiencing these feelings with your love, and he felt lucky to spend them with you too.

"hey katsu." you whispered over the sounds of the waves, but loud enough for him to hear. "yes princess?" he looked down at you.

"i love you. so much."

"i love you too sweetheart."

[vodkassassin]

world state: refresh, chapter 1

Summary: Something goes wrong with the plant body contingency plan, and Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua both end up perishing. However, it appears that the System isn’t finished with them, yet. And with their new promotions, this life they find themselves in seems more like a well-deserved vacation. / Back in their previous world, the people who knew them are still in mourning. And some of them are not willing to let them go.

—

“Dude! I thought the plan was to not die!”

“I —!”

“All that work for nothing! And you didn’t just fuck up, you had to drag me down with you? I thought we were bros, man. I thought we were cool!”

Shen Yuan shrinks back, watching him with wide eyes. “Why are you yelling at me?”

“Am I yelling?” Shang Qinghua crosses his arms and turns away. “I am just so sick of dying, bro! I thought we had a contingency, so I wasn’t worried, but now! What the fuck was that?”

“I couldn’t just,” Shen Yuan reaches up and pulls at his hair in aggravation. “I couldn’t just let that happen to Binghe!”

It’s kind of weird seeing him with such a slight build and shorter hair and big eyes a bright blue, when Shang Qinghua has long since become used to the broader shoulders and taller build and long, pin-straight hair of Shen Qingqiu. Shen Yuan’s got some curl to his hair. His eyelashes go on for days.

This must be how his bro looked like back in the real world. Or, their first world. After all this, there’s no way in hell that Shang Qinghua can call the world they’d just left fake or pretend.

He wishes he could.

Shang Qinghua makes a face and squints at his friend. Should he even call him that? After all, he… “You literally committed suicide. And you took me with you. Without asking! Bro, we’re both dead!”

“It’s not my fault that the plant bodies didn’t work!” Shen Yuan wails, and Shang Qinghua jerks back, stunned. Well, it seems that the cool and collected poker face of Shen Qingqiu had been left behind with the body itself. “You told me it was ready! And I didn’t ask you to stand so close to me when I detonated!”

“How was I suppose to know that’s what you were going to do?!” Shang Qinghua shrieks. He points an accusing finger at the other man. “We had a plan, you jerk! I kinda expected that we’d, oh I don’t know, go by it? Just a little bit? Play our parts? You changed the script on me without even giving me a cue!”

“Stop talking about it like it’s a stupid movie!” Shen Yuan says, and oh man his eyes are round and tearful. That’s not fair. “Binghe was going nuclear on us, Airplane! What was I suppose to do, let him destroy the world? Because you and I both know that’s what was about to happen!”

Shang Qinghua flinches back. He ducks his head and hunches his shoulder, looking away with a glare.

Shen Yuan sighs. He clears his throat, and says, “... I’m sorry I took you with me. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I tried to wait until you were out of range, but….”

Shang Qinghua sniffs.

“The only person capable of surviving a blast like that would be the protagonist.” He sullenly admits.

The both of them are silent at that. Shang Qinghua glares down at the vast expanse of blackness that surrounds them, leaving nothing to be seen but each other, somehow untouched by the dark. It almost seems like it might be a dream, but Shang Qinghua already knows what death feels like, and that had been it.

Can he even call himself Shang Qinghua anymore, if he’d left the body of that identity behind?

“I hope it was enough to fix Xin Mo’s influence on him,” Shen Yuan murmurs worriedly. “We’re not around anymore to mitigate the damage or direct the plot. What’s going to happen now? What if our absence means that the canon plot takes over again? Was it all for nothing?”

Shang Qinghua — Airplane drops his shoulders, rubbing his hands over his face tiredly. He feels way too old for this. Why can’t death be the final rest it was suppose to be? Why does this keep happening?

“Where even are we?” He asks.

There’s a familiar ding that echoes endlessly in the void around them. Airplane shares a glance with Shen Yuan, both their expressions bearing the same look of dread and exasperation.

“Why?” Shen Yuan bemoans.

“We’re not done?” Shang Qinghua demands, feeling suddenly furious as a window, slightly too light against the inky blackness, pops up before them. “Are you kidding me?”

He turns away from the blinding brightness and covers his face, muttering furiously under his hitching breath. It’s not fair! What are they, slaves to the System? Airplane is so tired.

“What,” he hears Shen Yuan breathe out beside him.

There’s a tug on his sleeve — they’re both wearing the same robes they died in, resized to fit their new (or rather, their old) bodies but just as dirty — and he turns to glance at his friend, only to find Shen Yuan gaping at the System window in astonishment.

“Airplane,” his friend insists, eyes wide. “Airplane, read it.”

With a put upon sigh, Airplane turns back toward the window and squints at it.

Congratulations, Host 74 and Host 81! Due to your exemplary efforts to rewrite the plot of World-0690, both of you have been promoted!

“What,” Airplane gapes. “A promotion? What the fuck does that mean?”

“Keep reading,” Shen Yuan urges him, eyes still round in shock.

In compensation for your hard work and the troubles faced in World-0690, Hosts have been given the choice of their next assignments!

“I don’t want to,” Airplane whimpers. He turns away from the half-read window and throws himself at his friend.

Shen Yuan lets out a sound of surprise as he catches him, and a hand automatically goes up to pet at Airplane’s head as he buries his face into Shen Yuan’s neck.

“I — Airplane? What’s — ?”

“I don’t want to do it again,” he says, eyes stinging. Fuck, he’s crying. He squeezes his eyes shut and clings to his friend. “I don’t want to. I’m done. I don’t want to anymore. Shen Yuan, I don’t want to!”

“Shit,” his friend mutters. The hand in his hair is comforting, stroking back and forth in a heavy pet.

Airplane sucks in a deep breath, which is a mistake, because it immediately bursts back out of him in a jarring sob.

He’s just so, so done. He doesn’t want to! He isn’t sure what he does want, just that he doesn’t want this! Please, please don’t make him! Not again! Airplane is done!

Shen Yuan speaks again, louder this time. “Airplane, listen. It’ll be different this time, okay? It’s giving us a choice!”

“I don’t want to,” Airplane cries.

“Um… How about I read us the, uh… the options. Okay?”

He sniffles. It’s not like there’s a decline button, he checked before he even started reading the damn window. This isn’t fair. This is so goddamn unfair.

Shakily, he nods his head against Shen Yuan chest. “... Okay.”

“Alright. So, um… option one is to be reborn with a system in a new world that requires a rewrite. It’ll be like how we ended up in PIDW, but we’ll have to read the plot beforehand so we know what we’re going into.”

“No,” Airplane jerks back, glaring up at his friend fiercely from beneath his damp lashes. “I will not be born again. I’m not growing up for another time. My childhoods in both worlds were shitty, I’m not letting myself be a child again, Shen Yuan!”

Shen Yuan gives him a weak smile. “Third time’s the charm?”

Airplane just continues to glare at him. The other man drops the smile and sighs.

“Yeah, okay, it’s a definite no to option one. I don’t wanna go through infancy or, hell, puberty again, either. So, option two…”

Airplane is quiet as his friend gazes up at the window and rereads their options. He refuses to turn around and look at it. He doesn’t want to see it. He’s so sick of the fucking System.

[Host….]

Fuck.

Shut up.

[This system apologizes—]

Shut up, shut up, shut up! Aren’t we done with you? Haven’t I finished what you wanted? Our mission is over, right? I don’t want to talk to you! Leave me alone!

[....]

“Okay, option two,” Shen Yuan says, eyes fixed on the window. Airplane lets his forehead drop to rest against his friend’s shoulder. “We can transmigrate into already written lives, fully grown bodies. Our task in that case would be to help stop the end of the world.”

“Fuck that,” Airplane and Shen Yuan both scoff at the same time.

Airplane draws back from his friend’s embrace to share a grin with him.

“I’m sick of responsibilities. How many options are there?”

Shen Yuan glances back up to scan the window. “There’s a few pages worth… Hey, System?”

There’s a ding. Airplane directs his gaze determinedly on his friend’s face and doesn’t look behind him.

“Can you filter the options?” Another ding. “Okay, filter out all options that require us to play a prewritten character or save a world.”

Ding! Airplane watches avidly as Shen Yuan’s expression smooths out into something pleased. The other man glances back down at him, and then blinks when he realizes that Airplane has been staring at him the entire time. He coughs, and pink flushes over his cheeks.

Airplane feels a smirk crawl onto his face. “Aw, bro. You know, you’re pretty cute like this. Is this how you looked like back — uh, in our first lives?”

Shen Yuan’s blush deepens. “I — uh… yeah, I think so? I don’t have a mirror, so I can’t be one-hundred percent sure…”

Then, the other man smirks back at him, a teasing light entering his bright eyes. “You’re not too shabby yourself, bro. Actually, you’re freaking adorable. If I knew this was what Airplane Shooting Toward the Sky looked like, I’d have never even tried taking your papapa scenes seriously.”

“You never took them seriously anyway,” Airplane scoffs, fighting off his own blush. He stares into the inky blackness of the void instead. “Besides, no one should have taken them seriously.”

“Eh? Why?”

The smirk crawls back over Airplane’s face, and he glances up at Shen Yuan from beneath his eyelashes. “I’m ace.”

Shen Yuan pauses. He stares down at him, speechless for a few long moments. Airplane lifts one hand to hide how his smirk has transformed into a grin. His shoulders shake with amusement.

Finally, Shen Yuan’s face breaks into incredulousness.

“You —? Are you serious?” The man wheezes. He reaches out and slaps a hand against Airplane’s shoulder, and then does it a few more times. “Are you fucking serious? A joke! The entire thing was a joke this whole time? Airplane, I’m gonna fucking kill you, oh my god!”

Despite his words, the slaps are gentle. Shen Yuan still has one arm wrapped around him in a hug.

Airplane bursts into laughter.

“I mean,” he giggles. “The story itself wasn’t a joke? But the reader count skyrocketed after the first smut scene, and the subscriptions mirrored that. I was just a starving college student, bro. I hadn’t eaten in three days, I needed some cash.”

Shen Yuan’s hits cease, and a serious expression overcomes his outrage.

“Was it really that bad?” He quietly asks.

Airplane bites his lip and looks away. “It’s been worse than that, but… Yeah. It’s what helped me make the decision to lead PIDW into the stallion novel genre. I kept the actual story to myself and just focused on writing what the subscribers demanded. It was a huge blow to my integrity as an author, and there were a lot of times that I hated myself for it, but I was too hungry to care most of the time.”

“Shit,” Shen Yuan presses a hand over his mouth. Airplane looks away entirely before he can see the pity that’s likely to be in his friend’s expression. “That’s shitty, man. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” he shrugs. “After being born into it, though, there’s a lot of times I wish I’d just gone with my original draft. Starving would have been better than… a lot of what happened, back there as Shang Qinghua.”

Shen Yuan’s arm tightens around him. His hand finds its way back into Airplane’s hair.

“Hey,” he says, quietly. “What’s your name?”

Airplane snorts. “Shang Lei.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

He buries his face into Shen Yuan’s chest and laughs. “No, that’s my name.”

“Oh my god, are you serious?”

He smacks Shen Yuan in the arm, grinning. “Yes, I’m serious.”

“You hack writer. You’re so original, I’m in awe.”

Airplane rolls his eyes and snuggles into his friend’s hug. “I’d offer to let you read the original PIDW, but I don’t have it with me, and I think it would hit differently now that we both uh, actually know most of the characters personally.”

Shen Yuan makes a face. “Man. I’d totally read it, too, if it wasn’t for that. And besides, the way you wrote Binghe... that’s not him. Not anymore.”

“Yeah. You raised him differently.”

There’s a quiet sound, like sniffling. “I … I don’t think I did such a good job,” Shen Yuan whispers, and his voice is thick.

Airplane closes his eyes.

“Anyway.” He says. “Our options?”

“... Right.” Shen Yuan coughs. He straightens up. His arm tightens around Airplane like one might clutch at a teddy bear. Airplane accepts it. “Um…. The filters have narrowed down the list quite a bit. How do you feel about being reborn as forest hermits in a farming simulation become reality?”

“Um. Pass. I’m not much for manual labor.”

Shen Yuan laughs. Airplane can feel the way his body trembles with it against him. He smiles and rests his head into the crook of his friend’s neck.

“Yeah, neither am I. Uh, there’s…. Demon Lords — nah, that’s R18. We know how that goes, and since you’re ace, no thanks. Um, there’s actually a lot of otome-type worlds. Weird. System, filter out those ones.”

Airplane yawns. He’s still feeling upset over all of this, but he’s come to a decision.

Whatever new world they end up in — and goddammit, it’ll be together — he’s not going to allow Shen Yuan convince him to let himself become attached to the characters this time. He’d done so well, in the first half of his life as Shang Qinghua, keeping himself distanced from his peers and enemies alike. Life went by quick and mostly painlessly, when you didn’t connect with anyone. The real pain came after Shen Yuan talked him into seeing the people of that world as actual people.

It was lonely before then, sure. He’s not sure the hurt that came after was worth it, though. Plus, this time he’ll have his bro at his side. That’s all he’ll need.

“Oh, hello.”

He pulls back from his friend’s comfy embrace to look up at him. “Find a good one?”

“I think so,” Shen Yuan tells him. He’s smiling up at the window, and he’s got one eyebrow raised. “This one is ‘Become Game Masters of an ARMMRPG.’”

“Eh?” Airplane frowns. “... Doesn’t it mean, uh, a VRMMORPG? Like in anime?”

“No. This one is Alternate Reality Massive Multiplayer Role Playing Game. Instead of being a virtual world, in this… story, I guess? In this story, the player characters are actually people capable of dimensional travel. Each ‘game’ is a different dimension, and the people can only die in their home dimension. From the description, it’s basically the same as the synopsis of your run of the mill VRMMORPG anime, except the virtual games are real worlds.”

“Sure, but if they’re real worlds, then what does being a Game Master mean?”

Shen Yuan grins down at him.

“Hey, Airplane,” he says. “How do you feel about being an actual god?”

—

Luo Binghe curls up on his throne like a child might sit in their mother’s lap, but there is no warmth to be found for him in this position. He clutches his knees to his chest and fights off another bout of these ceaseless tears. What’s a throne worth, what’s the seat of an emperor worth, what is all the power that he’s spent years accumulating worth, if Luo Binghe himself is actually useless regarding what truly matters?

He’s the king of an entire realm, territories a-plenty in the human one as well, but none of it matters anymore.

Nothing can matter, not now.

He launches himself off the throne, startling the line of servants that kneel on the gilded floor. He ignores their jolts and their gasps of surprise, turning on his heel to leave the room entirely. It’s only a few doors deep into the private wing behind his throne, a room in the center of his palace that is more secure than any place else in all the world.

He throws open the door, and catches it before it can slam shut. He closes it with barely a whisper.

It feels wrong, making too much noise in this room. Being too loud.

Shizun never liked it to be too noisy.

Luo Binghe’s eyes sting as he approaches the shrouded and still form that lies on the dias in the center of the room. He kneels before it, and then lowers himself further to press his forehead against the cold stone floor.

“Shizun,” he whimpers. “This lowly disciple is so sorry. This scum will repent for as long as it takes. Binghe will kneel for eternity if that is what it takes. But please, please. Come back.”

His voice cracks on the last word. It echoes quietly in the room, bouncing off the walls and reaching back to him until all the Luo Binghe is able to hear are the reverberations of his own useless please.

Just like every time before, the form he kowtows to is silent and unmoving. Cold. Dead.

Luo Binghe has made the worst mistakes, and there is no way to fix them.

[Read ch. 2]

[i-will-physically-fight-you]

Gibbous Chapter 9

Chapter Title: The Thought of Fresh Meat Is Making Me Ill

Summary:  It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

Pairings: platonic lamp & platonic sleepxiety

Chapter Word-Count: 5503

Warnings:  Verbal/Emotional Abuse, Anxiety, Depression, Paranoia, Arguing, Disassociation, Sensory Overload (Yeah this one isn't gonna be a particularly happy one, Virgil Is Spiraling Mentally Big Time)

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Surprise b*tch, bet you thought you saw the last of me! I'm back for my yearly update--this chapter is dedicated to all the lovely comments people have left on previous chapter! Also!! I rewrote a significant amount of Crescent Chapter 3 and added onto Gibbous Chapter 5, the latter you might want to reread as it adds a bit to the opening scene of this chapter.

Chapter title taken from "I know I'm a Wolf" from the Young Heretics!

-

In books, there was always a perfect, logical sense of progression. Stories were generally told in a three-act structure. The setup, the midpoint and the resolution. The beginning of a story established the protagonist to the reader. It gave you details about their personality, their way of living, their wants and desires. Then the protagonist found themselves upended by an inciting incident.

Something that caused their way of living to never again be the same. Tension grew and grew as they sought to come about a way to continue living. Until it reached a climax, one where after which, they either thrived or withered away. In which case, the story ended as the protagonist returned to a new sense of normalcy.

One that would last until the next inciting incident came along to shake up their world once again.

Once one found this pattern, it was hard to ever see stories the same way again. There were certain things to always expect—things you could decipher before the story’s end. Real life, however, wasn’t quite like that.

Or at least this was what Logan had come to find. Sure, in many ways events in life played out like stories. There was an inciting incident, something that arose tension as one sought to solve the dilemma. It just wasn’t as neatly bound together like a story or even a math equation. Life was messy, complicated—it threw in plot twists or details that critics would claim lazy and unbelievable.

Logan was harshly reminded of this in the case of one Virgil Raine. He couldn’t understand—he was doing everything right, remaining patient and giving Virgil a chance to open up to Logan on his own time. Yet the human shied further and further away, all development he made since working at the library immediately erased. Virgil even shut out all notions of spending time outside work without explanation. It’d been weeks at this point with no result despite the attempts of Logan, Patton and even Remy, who was arguably the closet with Virgil.

Perhaps this was something that should be expected. Virgil rarely spoke about his past, but what little he shared, he had to fend mostly for his own from a young age. Whoever hurt Virgil caused him to believe again he couldn't rely on anyone but himself.

Logan was not a particularly violent person. He'd been ignorantly cruel once upon a time, yes, but even back then he wasn't one to have the urge to kill people. The wolfish part of him begged to differ, as always. His instincts howled at him to find that person and tear them limb to limb. Better yet, they demanded he snatch Virgil away and bring him against his will to the pack, to safety. As much as Logan wanted this, logically he knew Virgil might never fully trust Patton or himself ever again despite their good intentions. Illogically, he couldn’t bring himself to do the one thing he swore he’d never do again, even if it was for Virgil's safety.

He pondered this, sitting in front of a mountain of paperwork. It was late, too late for him to still be at the library. He couldn’t bring himself to move from his desk, not until he figured something out. He gnashed sharpened teeth in agitation, gripping his hair with claw-like fingernails. It didn't help that normally this time of the month, his cognitive thinking skills were usually in a different state of being. If he wasn't careful, the cleaning staff might find a wolf rampant in the library the next morning.

His phone rang just then, some meme-related ringtone Roman picked out that he’d found funny. Logan snatched it up and answered it.

“Patton, listen, I will be home soon I am just finishing up—”

“I’m not Patton,” The person on the other line cut in, “It’s me, Remy.”

“Oh,” Logan cleared his throat, thrown off by this revelation, “is something the matter?”

“Yeah, something’s the matter alright,” Remy said, his voice hoarse, “I fucked up big time with Virgil.”

 -

It was October. A month full of cheer for the macabre. A month where humans gleefully wore the skins of those they saw as monsters. A month that Virgil generally enjoyed. It was the one month out of the year where he felt the most alive. Yet somehow, for this year’s October, he felt dead inside. Like his body had turned into the rotting corpse of a zombie and his soul was somehow still trapped inside.

He supposed it had something to do with how September slipped from his fingers much in the way that his phone slipped from Jerad’s fingers. Falling all the way down, down, down, breaking upon the asphalt below into a million tiny pieces. Tried as he might, the memory haunted him in the waking world as well as his dreams.

 Only, in his dreams, sometimes it was him that fell to the ground. Like a shoddy version of Humpty Dumpty. Remy, Patton and Logan would try to fix him to no avail. They’d always leave, scoffing that it wasn’t worth it. He couldn’t cry or reach out towards them, begging for them to return. He could only lay there, broken and bleeding, watching as they abandoned him. Sometimes Roman showed up to gloat, mocking him for thinking they ever cared for him.

The worst thing about it? He knew it was going to happen in real life. It was only a matter of time. Even Jerad knew this.

“C’mon, you really want to hang out with them and not me, your friend?” Jerad scoffed, “what have they done for you? Have they helped out you when you couldn’t pay rent? Replaced your shitty phone for the best smartphone out there?”

“Well no but—”

“Face it, V-Man, they’re using you. They set you up with a new job, making you beholden to them and it’s sickening! They don’t actually care about you. Once they’ve had their fun jerking you around, they’ll just throw you out with the garbage. And I don’t want you coming to me, bawling like a baby, when it happens!”

As much as Jerad was a jerk, Virgil knew deep down he was right. He’d been so ecstatic at their displays of friendship, he didn’t even stop to consider it was all a façade. Maybe they themselves thought it was real, that they actually cared for him. But eventually they’ll realize the truth. That he’s a loser and nothing more.

Or maybe they already knew the truth and were merely toying with him. Virgil was just a human, mortal through and through. Remy, Patton and Logan were all near-immortal, unkillable save a well-placed piece of silver and a stake of wood in Remy’s case. At least with Jerad, he was honest. He knew Virgil was a loser and made it clear he only hung out with Virgil because it was better than nothing.

Jerad had been nice to Virgil lately—or nice as Jerad could be at least. He’d insisted on occasionally giving Virgil rides to and from work. An offer Virgil couldn’t refuse—no matter how hard his heart thudded against his chest with Jerad’s sharp swerves and his blaring car radio. He taken to asking about Virgil’s day even, asking where he’d been and what he’d been doing. He even took Virgil out to bars and clubs in an attempt to get him to loosen up.

Virgil wanted to tell him he’d rather set himself on fire than willingly enter a noisy nightclub. However every time his lips went to form those words, he found himself saying yes always. So that was how he found himself dissociating in a noisy nightclub, holding onto a pink-colored alcoholic beverage he faked taking a sip from.

A hand knocked jokingly against his forehead. “Yo, Virgin!”

Virgil blinked, his gaze blearily onto Jerad. It was hard to concentrate with all the flashing lights and loud music. He wanted to crawl underneath his beloved purple fleece blanket in his dark, silent bedroom and never leave. But he couldn’t leave just yet. Jerad had been nice to take him along to the club. If he’d asked leave now, he’d get upset. He knew eventually Jerad would get upset at him for something, but he preferred to delay that as long as possible.

“Yeah?” Virgil mumbled, curling his fingers tighter around the alcoholic drink that had been hoisted upon him. Jerad knew he didn’t like alcohol—it was something he ridiculed Virgil about constantly. He always insisted on Virgil drinking, saying he’d stop being a pussy and man up eventually about it.

“Are you high or something? You looked like you were seeing into the third dimension or something.”

Virgil shrugged. Jerad laughed at that, patting him on the back. Virgil tensed from each thud of Jerad’s hand, but he did not flinch or move away. It was a friendly gesture on Jerad’s part. If he wanted to really hurt Virgil, he would’ve put more force behind it.

“Probably not! You’re too much of an anxious wimp,” Jerad said, downing the contents of his drink, “but let me know if you ever get man enough to try it—your good friend Jerad has connections.”

“Okay.” Virgil said, his voice sounding far off in the distance to his own ears.

Jerad laughed again, and then started rambling about something probably among the lines of his most recent hookup, his parents being jerks for not giving him a new sports car or the latest college professor he deemed a complete idiot. Virgil stared at him, nodding all the right moments yet barely processed any of the words being directed his way.

 Even with lungs filled with air and a warm beating heart, Virgil felt nothing. He was nothing. A worthless sentient waste of space. Like an ugly mutt nobody wanted that should be euthanized to end its miserable existence.

His phone—the replacement one Jerad gave him—vibrated in his pocket. A text, no doubt from one of the others. The fourth one this night. Virgil’s hand twitched, refraining from looking at it in the presence of Jerad. Virgil didn’t feel like losing a second phone within a month of the first.

“Um, hey,” Virgil interrupted, wincing, “I gotta go use the bathroom, is that alright?”

“’Is that alright?’” Jerad mimicked in a high pitch tone, “Dude, is this elementary school or something? You want a hall pass? Me to hold your hand the whole way there?”

Virgil stared at him.

Jerad rolled his eyes, “Go ahead, whatever. I don’t care if you take a dump, just be quick with it.”

“Thanks.” Virgil bit out, running off before Jerad could change his mind.

He twisted and pivoted around the crowd of sweaty, glistening bodies wearing skimpy clothing. The bright neon lights and loud music warped around him like something out of a nightmare. Eventually he made it to the restrooms and locked himself in the nearest stall. The pulse of his heart roaring in his ears, he drew the phone of his pocket.

Four New Text Notifications from Patton

Patton: [Image of a black cat that looked approximately a year old. It appeared to be nestled close to Patton’s chest, staring up at the camera in wide-eyed stare.]

Patton: Look at what I found on my evening walk! Isn’t she the cutest??

Patton: I’m trying to convince Logan to let me keep her. Maybe you can come visit tomorrow and meet her??

Patton: It’s ok if not! I know you’ve been busy and I want to let you know I’m here for you, you can come to me about anything okay?

Virgil’s vision blurred a bit. He didn’t understand it. Why hadn’t Patton given up already? It’s been weeks since he’s sent Patton a text. He’d been terrified, too, really. And in the few times he ran into Patton at the library, he made excuses and scurried the other way.

Logan was at least kind enough to exchange a few pleasantries and keep their verbal interactions work-oriented. And Remy? They still delved deep into discussions about their taste in music but there was an awkward unspoken agreement not to bring up what happened that one morning. Virgil also shied from hanging outside of work, hoping Remy would eventually forget about him. It seemed to be working; Remy hadn’t offered to hang out in about a week or so.

But Patton? Patton seemed determined to stay in contact with Virgil, sending his dumb silly memes and cute animal videos. He sent good morning and good night texts, while making sure Virgil knew he could respond to them on his own time. On one hand, it made sense—this was the same Patton who saved a complete stranger’s life for literally no reason. On the other hand, he wished Patton would give up. It would made things easier, make it hurt less for everyone.

His phone buzzed with a new text notification.

Jerad: Dude, did you fall in or something?

Virgil swallowed, wiping away any stupid tears running down his face. As he typed a response to Jerad with shaky hands, the bathroom door slammed open, banging against the wall. He almost dropped his phone in the process, silently cursing at how close he’d been to breaking yet another phone.

Several loud booming voices filled the bathroom, peppered with obnoxious laughter every half second. Virgil shut his eyes, resisting the urge to cover his ears also in the process. The noise was too much. It was too much in the club outside, but all those voices echoing off the small crammed walls of the bathroom made Virgil want to scream.

The door creaked open yet again, the voices venturing away from Virgil. Good, they were leaving so Virgil could finally self-destruct in peace. Or so he thought, as a set of footsteps stopped abruptly, wavering. The club music blasted from the doorway, drowning out whatever discussion took place.

Then the door swung shut, the roaring club music muted once more. Virgil waited, breath catching in his throat as the single set of footsteps took a couple strides towards him. Oh god, this was how he was going to die, wasn’t he? This was probably some serial killer with an obsession of killing people in night club restrooms.

This was, of course, the moment his phone started vibrating in his hand. A call. Someone was calling him in the final moments of his life. Virgil looked down at the caller id; Remy. His heartrate spiked, dancing so painfully close to what a heart attack must feel like. Why was Remy calling him? Was he at last going to tell him he was done with Virgil forever?

Virgil almost wanted to ignore the call. But then he glanced at the black boots hovering near his stall and gave it a second thought. If this was going to be how his life ended, it’d probably be best to say goodbye to someone at least. Sucking a breath in, he pressed the green phone icon and held the phone to his ears.

“Hi?” He whispered.

“Hey Virgil,” Remy said, echoing oddly in Virgil’s ears, “what are you up to tonight?”

Virgil glanced down at the black boots menacingly close to his stall, “Umm, I’m just home, chilling.”

“That’s a lie, Hon. I know you’re hiding in a stall of this bathroom.”

“W-what are you talking about?” Virgil couldn’t breathe.

Remy sighed, sounding so similar to the person outside the stall, “Please, let’s talk face to face, alright?”

This was some sort of trick to lure him out of the stall, wasn’t it? Still, with the hand not clutching tightly to his phone, he reached out and unlatched the stall door.

Remy stood there, expression hidden under his black shades. His hair was slicked back with gel, shimmering with a glitter of some sort. He wore his iconic black leather jacket with a black crop top underneath. His whole outfit was black, in fact, down to his ripped jeans and the ankle-length boots. Virgil had seen him wear something similar before to a college event he’d taken Virgil to.

“W-what are you doing here?” Virgil demanded.

“I could ask you the same,” Remy responded, eyebrows raised above his shades, “this isn’t your scene, Virge. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not answering unless you answer.” Virgil said, trying to ignore how much he sounded like a toddler.

“A few of my homies from the art program wanted to celebrate the end of mid-terms. This is the night club most of the college body hangs at.” Remy crossed his arms.

“And how did you know I was in here?”

“A few keen observations,” Remy mustered a thin smile. He tapped his nose for emphasis before drawing his finger close to his lips. Virgil’s eyes widened in understanding. Vampire senses, then. “But mostly, I’d recognize those faded converse of yours anywhere.”

“O-oh.”

“I answered your question, now it’s your turn, Virge.”

“I…” Virgil said, the rest of his words strangled in his throat. His phone buzzed in his hand; another impatient text from Jerad no doubt. He didn’t bother to look at it, choosing to focus on taking a breath in rather than going unconscious from a lack of oxygen.

He could tell Remy the truth. That he’d gone with Jerad—his roommate whom he used to complain to Remy about all the time. But then Remy would ask why he was with Jerad and then—well. Then Virgil would have tell him what happened the time he found him the night his phone broke and well, Virgil wasn’t ready for that. He couldn’t tell Remy about his humiliating mistake.

“I…went here to have a good time completely by myself.” Virgil withheld himself from wincing because wow that didn’t sound weird or suspicious in the slightest, “So you can go catch up with your friends or whatever, I’m good hanging out right here.”

“Right here, in the restroom?”

“Yeah.”

“Honey,” Remy said, his voice washed with some emotion Virgil couldn’t identify, “Let’s ditch this shithole and go somewhere else.”

“W-what—but your friends—” Virgil stammered.

“—will be fine without me. N-G-L they’ll probably too trying to give themselves alcohol poison even realize I’m gone,” Remy shrugged his shoulders, “besides, you don’t seem as gucci as you say you are in here and it’s been a while since we really hung out hung out, y’know?”

Virgil stubbornly directed his gaze away from Remy, jaw tightening. It had to be okay, didn’t it? Jerad was most likely to get too drunk to even coherent colors, let alone that Virgil slipped off without him. Maybe he wouldn’t be mad. Maybe he wouldn’t fly into a rage and come close to hanging him off a balcony. Besides Remy would be even more suspicious if he said no.

Virgil sighed, holding the home button on the phone until it shut off completely. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with Jerad calling him, demanding to know where he’d disappear off to, despite ditching Virgil all the time without warning.

“Alright, fine.”

Remy smiled, his teeth looking a little too sharp for Virgil’s liking. Wordlessly he turned aside and reached for the bathroom door.

Virgil swallowed, shoving the phone in his pocket to be forgotten about. Tried as he might, he still flinched as lively blare of the club’s music and flashing lights greeted him with full force. He froze, cowering before the threshold of the door. A hand landed on his shoulder, soft and gentle.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, his brows furrowing together.

Molten lava settled in the pit of Virgil’s stomach—pity. That was the expression on Remy’s face he couldn’t identify at first. He didn’t want pity; Virgil knew what pity meant. He didn’t want pity of any kind, it reminded him too much of the foster parents that looked at him like he was some feral dog that could be whipped into obedience. And sure, Remy had never hurt him but it didn’t mean Virgil forgotten about that morning spent at Remy’s dorm a month back.

Eyes lit up with a burning, controlled fire. Words hissed through a clenching jaw, “Tell me their name and I’ll beat them up for you.”

If Remy was willing to hurt who he deemed as threats to Virgil, who’s to say he wouldn’t be willing to hurt Virgil? To reprimand Virgil, to let him know how much of an idiot he was being? It sounded absurd, even now, because he’d known Remy for almost a year. Remy had plenty opportunities up to now to do something and hadn’t. Yet he was a vampire; years were nothing to him. He had plenty of time to wait for Virgil to slip up in some way and make his irritation known.

And Virgil knew by now to expect the other shoe to drop in a relationship—it was why he distanced himself, isolated himself to solely to work and his cramped little room at the apartment. He was foolish to believe Remy, Patton and Logan were different. Logan and Patton especially—what was he thinking? Patton saved him, sure, but Logan had been hellbent on locking him in their basement for the eternity of time. Why had ever he allowed himself to accept their apologies, to believe something was going right in his life for once?

“I’m fine.” Virgil snarled, shoving himself forward. It was like marching into a warzone, the music assaulted his ears and rattled uncomfortably against his chest cavity. He grimaced, keeping his eyes towards the floor, away from the flashing lights. He stopped a bit before the ocean of bodies that stood between them and the entrance.

He knew if he looked up, he could make out the back of Jerad’s shirt from his spot at the bar. Stupid, this was so stupid. Why had he allowed himself to get talk into this by Remy? There was no doubt in his mind that Jerad would catch him trying to leave and rightfully demand why he was ditching him for Remy. It was a shit thing to do, after all.

Friends don’t ditch one another without explanation. Jerad left him, sure, but he always had an explanation after the fact. Virgil didn’t think Jerad would like his explanation very much. Especially when it involved Remy, one of the people Jerad had been trying to warn him about.

A hand gracefully looped itself around one of his own, tugging him off to the side rather than through the crowd. Virgil looked to see Remy guiding them towards a set of doors, ones clearly marked for employees only.

“Remy—”

“Shhh, this is a faster way outta here, trust me.” He said, flashing a smile. Perhaps it was meant to be comforting but for Virgil it only caused his stomach to churn.

Right before they made it to the doors, an employee materialized in front of them. “Excuse me, sirs, you’re not allowed back here—”

“Cindy, gurl, remember me, Lansing? Worked here last summer? Do you remember, yeah?” Remy lowered his shades to take a look at her. Virgil peered behind him, unable to view Remy’s face. He could see Cindy’s face, however. Her face pinched up in confusion, frowning, before abruptly smoothening out with a wide grin stretched from ear-to-ear. She looked right at Remy, her gaze shifting entirely off of Virgil as if he no longer existed.

“Lansing, oh! Oh yes, I remember.” Cindy said, with a high-pitched laugh. Virgil shrunk further back into Remy’s shadow, squeezing Remy’s hand tightly. Something was wrong and he didn’t like it. Remy never mentioned working as a bartender—and that wasn’t quite something Remy would be quiet about. Virgil could just  picture the outrageous bartending stories he’d have if that was the case.

Remy laughed along with her, light and airy.

“Good, then can ya do a fellow former co-bartender a favor and let us slip through, just this once?”

“Gurl, of course, just if you caught don’t let Gregory know I was the one that let you pass.” She leaned in conspiratorially, face twitching a bit.

“Oh don’t worry, you won’t see us again, in fact forget that you even saw us. I’d love to stay and catch up, but I bet you have things to do.”

She laughed again at that. “Yes, of course. It was nice seeing you, Lansing, but I have to go.”

Cindy hurried off, quickly dissipating through the crowd. Virgil blinked; what the fuck? What the fuck was that—

He didn’t even have time to process the encounter before Remy led them into the dimly lit back hallway of the nightclub. Whether it was a faster way out of the nightclub was debatable. For all his talk about previously working there, Remy seemed just as lost as Virgil in the winding hallway. He led them one direction, only to immediately pivot down the other way.

Remy wasn’t talking. Remy was always talking endlessly, as if speaking was as vital as oxygen to him. He was terrible at whispering too—something Logan would get on him about at the library. That was why he was usually stuck on front desk duty to speak with patrons, helping out at events or doing organizational work in the back office. For Remy to be this silent, like the brooding calm before a storm, well. Virgil’s lungs wanted to seize up right then and there.

Eventually, they made to a door that opened out to an alleyway, right where the night club kept its dumpster. The moon gleamed from her perch in the sky, nearly full but not quite. Like a cookie with a bite taken out of it. Virgil knew there was terms for the different phases of the moon. His mother loved taking him out to see the night sky. She’d point out the constellations and tell him what phase the moon that night was.

He wished he could remember, for her sake, what they were. Considering he knew actual werewolves, you’d think he pay better attention to it. But it was a topic Virgil never felt brave enough to venture and one that neither Patton nor Logan opened up much on their own about.

He stared at the moon, transfixed, that he almost forgotten the reason he was outside in the first place. Not until Remy murmured something before attempting to lead him off somewhere. The gaping dread from moments prior seized hold of him once more.

“No!” Virgil snapped, yanking his hand out of Remy’s grip. He stumbled backwards a few steps, slamming himself into a wall of the building in the process.

“Virgil?” Remy asked, frowning as he took a step  forward.

“What the hell was that back there?”

“What do you mean—”

“Don’t act stupid!” Virgil demanded, taking a shaky breath, “That lady���Cindy—you did something, I—I don’t know, she was acting weird! And—and you were acting weird! So I’m asking again; What. The Hell. Was. That?”

Remy stared at him, his breath hitching, “Virgil, I was just trying to get you to a quiet place ASAP before you—”

“You’re still not answering the question.” Virgil cut in, his intestines tightening themselves into knots over it. Because maybe this was just a classic case of Virgil paranoia striking again. Maybe he really was driving himself into a panic attack over nothing. Maybe he was accusing Remy unjustly.

Yet, if that was the case why would Remy flinch if Virgil struck him physically with his words?

“Virgil,” Remy said slowly, “I need you not to panic and hear me out, ok?”

Virgil’s heartrate accelerated. Not panic, not panic?! What did Remy expect but for him to panic at those words?

“Okay.” Virgil said, definitely panicking.

“What have you’ve heard about vamps?”

“That they—you drink blood. And your reflection doesn’t show up in mirrors—and—and if you get bitten by a vampire, you’ll either turn into one or get mind controlled.”

“All technically true, well I mean—there’s a fuck-ton more to the turning process than that—” Remy cut himself off, “That’s beside the point. The point is, what you call mind-control, we call ‘enthralling.’ Enthralling is…”

“Is what?”

“Enthralling is, well. It’s a form of hypnosis. Anyone enthralled by a vampire is mostly aware of it and the least likely they are to follow a vampire’s suggestions, the more likely they are to fight against the hypnosis. And it can be activated through eye-contact which is what I did to Cindy.”

Virgil couldn’t breathe. Suddenly pieces were slotted together in mind, forming a picture Virgil never wanted to envision. That faint but visceral memory of Remy with red eyes, the natural charisma Remy held with anyone he met, how Remy managed to steal confidential information from Virgil’s employee file in the back office of Kirby’s Burgers—all of it. He thought Remy, out of anybody, was safe. Past his sassy, laidback exterior, Remy was honest, willing to speak his mind about anything and everything.

If Remy enthralled a complete stranger without blinking an eye—who’s to say he wasn’t above doing it to Virgil? Who’s to say he hadn’t enthralled Virgil into being his friend? Who’s to say Virgil wasn’t an oblivious mouse in a game of cat and mouse? Oh gods, this had just confirmed all of Virgil’s worst fears and more.

“Virgil—” Remy said, reaching out, his eyes hidden beneath his shades. He continued speaking, a mumble jumbo string of excuses probably. Virgil couldn’t stand to stay around and listen to it.

“Stop—just don’t—” Virgil stuttered, taking one step and then another towards the open sidewalk. What was just a few steps then became a few hundred until he found himself leaning against the door to the apartment, hands shaking to slot the key to unlock it.

A few more steps he was inside, the usual musty smell an unexpected comfort. He sat on the couch, seconds stretching into eternity. He half-expected Remy to have chased after him, demanding Virgil to listen, why couldn’t you just listen, you’re so stupid no wonder you’re pathetic—

Virgil blinked a few times, his eyes burning with some sort of irritation. For some reason, Remy let him go. He couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing. His head ached and so did his ears for some reason.

 Jerad entered the apartment a few millennia later. Virgil froze at the rattling doorknob, his hand clutching onto his phone in his pocket.

“There you are, you fucker!” Jerad drawled, stumbling over in a drunken stupor. His hand moved towards Virgil, but not with a closed fist. Instead he patted him on the back like earlier, “I can’t believe you did it! You finally got the balls to go and hook up with somebody! I guess I can’t call you Virgin, now huh?”

“Uh-huh,” Virgil murmured, not correcting him on that assumption. He sat there, a bit of tension draining from him. Jerad wasn’t mad for abandoning him. Jerad was still a jerk, but at least Virgil mostly knew what to expect of him. It wasn’t ideal, but that was life. It was better to deal with the devil you knew, then the devil you didn’t know. Virgil was stupid to have ever thought otherwise.

“My parents are being such dicks at the moment,” Jerad said, precipitously changing topics as per usual of him, “sometimes I wish I didn’t have to wait until they were dead to take my inheritance and do what I want to do, y’know?”

Virgil didn’t really know. Did his parents leave him money? They had to have had some sort of savings stashed away. A life insurance of some sort, right? It wasn’t like they were poor. He never thought about inquiring into that. Jerad accidentally slapped Virgil across the arm with a huge hand gesture, still ranting about something. Maybe it wasn’t an accidental hit.

Virgil didn’t know. His tether on reality felt weak, like a balloon close to floating away into the stratosphere. He almost wished he could float away, but the weight in his chest said otherwise. Jerad passed out not long after his rant, slumped half on the floor and half on the sofa. Virgil took this opportunity to slip into the comfort of his bedroom and turn on his cellphone once more.

 Seventeen new text notifications and five missed calls from Jerad greeted him, along with one new text notification from Logan. He clicked on Logan’s and his conversation, staring at Logan’s text at the bottom of it.

Logan: Virgil, Remy wanted me to inform you that he is taking a leave of absence from work. Please let me know if you need to take a leave of absence as well or need to confide in somebody as a friend, Patton or I would be happy to listen.

Virgil stared at it some more. Then he tapped out a short response, set the phone on the stool that was his makeshift nightstand and collapsed headfirst into his mattress. 

Virgil: K thanks, I’m fine

-

A/N: Hope everyone is doing well, if you enjoyed the chapter please consider leaving a comment--it's completely free and helps me out as a fanfic writer a ton! I'm technically not in the Sanders Sides fandom anymore, but I still have a lotta fondness for this fic and I will finish it, even if takes me ten years to do so :') -Kat

[bbnibini]

Hi! I really love your works but it gotten me curious if you also read fanfics? Do you have any fanfic recommendations?

Thank you, anon! That's really kind of you. 🥺💕 I do read fanfics, but not as much anymore. I'm assuming this ask is for Obey Me fics? But if not, I will include some of my absolute favourites in a future post. Fair warning: I gushed. A LOT hahaha. Please support the authors and their works! I included the fics in the hyperlinks~

NSFW fics are marked appropriately, so please click the links at your own discretion (some of them are in my public bookmarks in AO3).

Elle's Obey Me Fic Recommendations

🌸Your Coal by Angrish(LettuceBean)

Truth be told, I belong to the "forgive but don't forget camp" in lieu of what happened in Chapter 16; reading Angrish's YC and how their MC coped with the aftermath(+ how others coped along with them) felt really powerful, raw and so so emotional. It made me think and really think about how I processed the whole thing that happened. While it didn't really change my outlook on how I have forgiven Belphie for what he had done, Angrish shedding light to the unanswered questions and lingering doubts the main story have left most of its readers was done in such a thoughtful and poetic way that I found myself binge reading the whole thing.

Given that I read this whole coping with a lot of stuff as well (and may have contributed with sympathising a lot more to the vindictiveness of the MC), reading what Angrish had written was really cathartic. Their writing style is also beautiful--the way the words string together, simple, elegant, yet impactful really made MC's emotions a lot...tangible, real and sometimes, frustrating (in a good way, mind you). I also liked how they had fleshed out the other characters, especially Belphegor, Satan and the Purgatory Hall members.

🌸You'll Have to Ask Your Dad by DefenestrationProtestration

I remembered clicking on this fic because of the author's punny name, stayed for the pretty writing and reread a few several times for the characterisation and THE WRITING. I'm pretty sure I left a litany of praises and incomprehensible gushing on the comments section because of how much I've devoured this piece of art.

Even as I'm typing this review, I can't seem to organise my thoughts haha. You can tell by the writing style that the author had a lot of fun writing their prose; it permeates through the screeen...my "screen" of imagination at least. I am not joking--the writing is so pretty and vivid that I literally saw it as a movie in my head lol. I chatted with them a bit on the comments and they said the prose is more of something they had written subconsciously; it reminded me of James Joyce and how he had masterfully perfected the same technique. Of course, their writing styles differ a lot from each other, but I can see what they meant.

...as I'm typing this, I didn't realise how I haven't talked about the plot of the fic at all soz. This piece is the author's character study of Lucifer. It talks about how he was before, during and after the fall. He is a bit of an unreliable narrator, which I'm not sure if the author intended, but he has all these presumptions that miss the mark so so much, particularly at how his brothers, Lord Diavolo and the others perceive him--but reading the whole thing would make you understand why he had gotten to that kind of self-perception in the first place. And honestly? It really, really hurt to read. But was it bad? The total opposite of that, in fact! I loved how they had written the angst in this piece. So many things in the fic are "show, rather than tell" and I really really appreciate that.

Most of my brainrot about this fic is better to be explored on your own. Overall, 10/10: a definite, recommended read.

🌸Fairy Tales for the Fallen by indiavolowetrust

I haven't fully devoured all of the stories in the collection yet, but the ones I've read (Her Name Was Thousand Eyes is my favourite) was such a really good spin on dark fairy tales (Obey Me style!). It reminded me of my childhood Little Mermaid picture book for some reason. Probably the writing style(the author's writing reads a lot like a storybook) The one I had was Hans Christian Andersen's (aka the OG) version and the ending was rather...dark for a 5 year old lol. It was a big part of my life though and was probably the precursor for my affinity with sad stories haha.

🌸TieGuanYin by Taciturn

Like tea on a tiring day, Taciturn's writing style feels very homey, cozy and familiar. I love rereading this oneshot when I'm having a shitty day and imagining myself having tea with Barbatos haha. Ever had pieces of art or literature that just...relaxes you when you consume it? This one is one of my, as the youngsters say, "comfort fic" haha.

🌸glass half empty; glass half full by unagis

I love unagis' fics.♡ I also love her Childe fics. The concepts she comes up with, as well as how she delivers it is *chef kiss*. Admittedly, I read this one when I was still a Satan stan, with all the suspicions and doubts about Solomon's intentions still rampant within me. Reading him blush and become flustered is CUTE and aaaaa this whole fic is just really cute.🥺♡

🌸The Eternal Storm by @sondepoch

Sondepoch's Satan oneshot was the very first fic I read in the OM fandom so it has a special place in my heart~ I remembered how awkward it was to skim through the Satan filters, looking for a gen fic/SFW fic because around that time, most OM fics are smut (no shade on smut ofc, I'm just super uncomfortable reading them unless the writing is really pretty or there's something else going on in the story). Finding GEN AND A WELL-WRITTEN CHARACTER STUDY about my (former) favourite OM character was like I hit the jackpot. I remembered that feeling really well haha. My bias with one of my favourite forms of fic (char. study) aside, Sondepoch's writing is easy on the eyes and is definitely a great entry for anyone who wants to be in the OM fandom.

🌸Read Me by GENE515

One of my more recent reads and definitely worth a mention!♡ Read Me was a beautifully written, heartfelt two-shot about Lucifer's love, which he tried his best to express in penned words. Probably because of my own love letter-themed OM series, this one really stuck to me haha. The author is also really sweet. :3

🌸Schrodinger by fickleminder

I read this one around Halloween and it definitely fit the occasion. Schrodinger was such a great thriller/horror fic with how it set its unsettling atmosphere from the very beginning--the way fickleminder's writing just sucks you in and makes you bystand the whole ordeal between Belphegor and MC was just...so suspenseful? Nail biting? Creepy (in a good way ofc)? I won't spoil the ending, but the process and way they tackled it was a lot scarier than what I was initially bracing myself for.

🌸Siberia by @polandspringz

Seeing another Obey Me mystery in AO3 really hyped me up! Polandspringz did a spectacular job in writing this series and I can relate so much with their experiences in writing for mystery. Their writing style is easy on the eyes--I also really liked how they characterised the OM characters I have read on their series so far. There's still quite a lot of stuff left in speculation (from my most recent reading at least), and I really look forward to see how everything unfolds!

🌸Tetris Syndrome by apocketfulofposies (NSFW)

I am very very uncomfortable with smut content, so the smut I've read can be counted on one hand. ;; That is to say, TS is one of the few smut that I really, really enjoyed. First of all, Levi's characterisation is on point. It was really really interesting to get in his head and read about his thought process. What is envy? And how much does the sin of envy really define him?

I really enjoyed Levi's internalisations, as well as the author's writing style. If you want smut with a brooding, jealous otaku boy, I really recommend this one!

[haikyuuties-xo]

Ground Zero - Oikawa Tohru

a short story about an overlooked part of Oikawa's life.

i see a lot of myself in Oikawa and maybe that's what compelled me to write this.

this is actually based off of my own experience with different circumstances so i promise this isn't too unrealistic haha

TW: depression, hospitals, seizure, self-harm

oikawa tohru. crowd favorite, ladies man, and, of course, superb athlete.

he was a hard worker, that's what turned raw talents into honed skills.

yet few knew the dangerous way he toed against the line.

-

sirens faintly blare in the background as iwaizumi runs as fast as his legs can carry him. fuck, fuck, fuck. not again.

-

oikawa always overdid it, pushing himself further than anyone should. no matter the coaxing — "even olympic athletes need their breaks", "come on, it's not like your gonna go pro, right?", "dude, you've been at this for hours!" — oikawa never stopped working.

oikawa was the top of his class in academics and popularity. on the outside he appeared so care free and easy-going — like he didn't have a care in the world. iwaizumi knew better. he knew well the calculating, cold and domineering personality that lay beneath the faux exterior. it didn't take long for the rest of the team to realize the same thing.

-

the sirens grew louder as iwaizumi neared the aoba johsai gymnasium. quickly sliding the familiar back door, his shoes squeaked beneath him as he rushed up to his teammate lying unresponsive on the cold gym floor.

"dammit, shittykawa, you already fucked up your knee and now look."

beads of sweat coated oikawa's forehead, his strained expression remained.

paramedics arrived quickly after, supporting oikawa's body along with iwaizumi in order to properly transport him to the Miyagi Prefecture Hospital.

hospitalizations were not unfamiliar to iwaizumi, all thanks to his best friend.

upon their quick arrival, the ever-familiar smell of hand sanitizer, disinfectant, and old people filled iwaizumi's nose.

"god i fucking hate hospitals."

iwaizumi never got used to the smell, just like how he never got used to the anxiety that pitted in his stomach when he'd sit inside the hospital room while Oikawa remained stable, but unconscious.

after what felt like an eternity, oikawa's eyes fluttered open. Oikawa sighed in recognition.

"you've got to stop doing this to yourself, tohru."

"i know. they don't want broken athletes—"

"nOT JUST THAT YOU DUMB FUCK YOU HAVE A LIFE THAT'S WORTH LIVING FOR MORE THAN JUST A FUCKING SPORT."

"you want this as much as me."

"yeah, but not enough to damage myself forever! this is the 17th time you've collapsed and your 5th hospitalization. first the knee, fainting spells — which, by the way, you're so fucking lucky this is all this shit is — anemia attacks, starvation, the list goes on."

Oikawa looked down, his tired eyes staring at the crisp, white, linen sheet. he stood up, being sure to do so slowly, before ringing for an attendant. within seconds, a nurse rushed in asking, "anything i can help you with, sweetheart? could i get you some ginger ale for this medication I'm gonna give you?"

"water's fine, thanks. actually, i was wondering how fast i can leave."

"we're going to have a quick run-by with our neurologist just to make sure there isn't any head trauma from when you fainted and then you should be good to go."

Oikawa nodded, thanking her again before sitting down again in his hospital bed.

"what am I supposed to tell the team, Hajime..."

"tell them the truth — that you overdid it again. they're not blind, ya know."

oikawa didn't reply, thankful that the nurse who quickly placed the meds and bottle of water down served as a proper distraction. downing a bit of water, Oikawa coughed before swallowing the pills. clicking the button again, Oikawa paged the nursing staff.

she popped in once again with a smile, "all set with the meds? great. I'll see about that neurologist." she left once more.

"you sure are an inpatient asshole."

oikawa laughed, "that might be a new one." yet, when he'd laughed, he felt a straight in one of his muscles, like a vein was stretched. suddenly, black spots began to overtake his vision — oikawa's familiar warning that he was set on a path to another fainting spell if he didn't lie down. as inconspicuously as possible, he laid back down.

"I guess I'll try to get some sleep." Oikawa said, though both he and iwaizumi knew of Oikawa's insomniac tendencies.

-

Oikawa awoke from blackness to the bright lights of his hospital room and a twange of pain in his mouth.

"wow, i can't believe i fell asleep."

panic set in as soon as he spoke. he looked down and in his nose was an air tube, on his chest were heart rate monitors, and at the elbow of his veiny arm was an IV jabbed into his vein. the cords were tied to the hospital bed, making him feel like a prisoner. he began to struggle, trying to pull some of the cords that seemed as chains, the beeping of his heart rate monitor furthering his anxiety, bringing back flashbacks of his knee displacement.

iwaizumi quickly stirred from his concentration — he hadn't sleep, but seemed to have been deeply absorbed in thought.

"HEY! hey, shittykawa, stop it! STOP IT!" iwaizumi made a grab for oikawa's arms, steading him as oikawa's labored breathing began to slow.

"haji, what the fuck. what is all this shit on me. i was supposed to go home...", he glanced at the clock, "5 hours ago!"

"Oikawa, stop it. Just stop."

"Why should I? this is all so unnecessary, i just fainted for gods sake!"

"Oikawa."

at last, Oikawa made eye contact with the solemn and tortured eyes of iwaizumi.

"Oikawa, you had a seizure."

Oikawa's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, then into anger, then complete and udder sorrow.

"tohru, hey, it's okay. they think it was just a stress seizure. still, you had me fucking screaming at one point there."

"what....what was i like?"

iwaizumi pondered for a moment, looking away.

"well, first, all your limbs rose up together while you stared all creepy-like, like a robot. then, you lowered them and started shaking all over, foaming at the mouth — but your spit was red."

"i think i bit my tongue, it fucking hurts."

"well, you're not leaving either way."

"yes i am."

"no you're not."

"yes i am."

"no you're not."

"yes i am"

"i override the captain as he is no longer in the proper mental state to be commanding orders."

"you can't do that!" Oikawa immediately tried to stand to defend his honor, but quickly regretted it. pain shot up to his head, right behind his eyes. he couldn't hide the wince in pain.

"Tohru, this is good for you. don't think i didn't notice your cuts. when did you relapse? wait, don't tell me. you don't have to. the point is, you need to reach out for help — there's so many people here who are ready to give it."

"Haji, all i am is a fucking burden. trust me, I've taken much more than I've given."

iwaizumi bit the inside of his cheek, beginning to overthink his own choices.

"hey, if it's cuz of what i said about you being shitty—"

"it's not that. iwaizumi, look around. I'm in the fucking hospital, ruining your Saturday night, ruining our chances at the championships, ruining everything. like i always do. i always fuck everything up. i always think if i try a little harder than I'll be good enough. then i always end back up at ground zero."

iwaizumi sighed. "you're the only guy who can look at all what you've accomplished and see it as a fucking zero."

"you mean, the only guy who can see things realistically."

"Oikawa, you deserve more than what your brain tells you you deserve."

oikawa's vision blurred, his resolve crumpling. it still didn't feel right. iwaizumi is wrong. wrong, wrong, WRONG. I don't deserve shit. i haven't earned it. his chin began to wobble as iwaizumi engulfed him in a tight hug.

"Oikawa, it might not feel like it now, but i promise some day it will."

oikawa nodded, not believing it himself, but holding onto the hope that some day he would.

writing this was very therapeutic to me. upon rereading it later, I've realized that i find the interactions between iwa and oikawa are quite similar to some of the conversations I've had with myself. please know that no matter what you're going through, there is always light at the end of the tunnel.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

I Pity the Grave That Tries to Keep Me From You

Bull Randleman x Reader One-shot

Summary: it’s just fluffy angst about Bull coming back from Market Garden bc I’m a soft squishy sad little tall person who is dealing with some major feels

Warnings: shitty writing (mostly cuz I don’t feel like editing WHOOPSIE), angst, fluff, rushed ending, bleh, idk man it is what it is....

Ya’ll know I listened to Hozier’s Work Song for part of this, I didn’t even try to be subtle about it.

~

~

~

You don’t react when Hoobler tells you about Bull.  

Martin can’t look at you, but you hug him just the same.

I’m sorry he’d blurted after he returned your embrace, voice breaking painfully. I’m so fucking sorry.

But you’d just shook your head from side to side and given him the closest thing to a reassuring smile you could muster.

Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m glad you’re here.

You weren’t sure how many times you’d said those three sentences since D-Day, but it was the only thing you could think of to say to your broken friends telling you through tearful apologies the names of the soldiers you all had loved and lost. As if it was their fault... as if they’d failed in keeping them safe for you.

Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I’m glad you’re here.

Martin had let out one quiet sob against your neck before stepping back and turning and leaving. Everyone let him go. 

You understood- everyone grieved differently. Your grief had to wait a bit longer- you still had things to do.

No one made to stop you when you excused yourself, Webster having the presence of mind to give you a nod when you mumbled something about checking in with Nixon.

You and Bull had always known the risk of one or both of you dying- hell, you’d even discussed the likelihood of one of you dying in front of the other. You’d mentally prepared yourself as much as you could for that inevitability.

Missing, though? Missing wasn’t sitting well with you.

Becoming an intelligence officer hadn’t been a career path you’d stumbled across by mistake- you liked information, found comfort in details and strategy. 

You hated being blindsided, and since you’d been small you’d gone to great lengths to ensure you never entered a situation without being fully aware of any and all potential outcomes that could occur. 

Surprises aren’t always good, my darling. Remember that. 

Your mother’s words had echoed in your head the first time you’d met Bull, when he’d caught you off guard by introducing himself to you in the same manner he had introduced himself to all of the other men in Easy- with solid eye contact, a firm handshake, and a gentle drawl of “Randleman, nice to meet you.” 

The idea that you wouldn’t hear his voice again, in either friendly introduction or intimate devotion, made you feel achingly hollow.

“If you think something as silly as a grave can keep me from coming home to you, you got another thing coming, Little Lady”. 

“That sounds like you’re saying you’re going to haunt me, Den—”

“You should be so lucky….plus, I’d make it fun, so don’t even worry about it.”

You start to walk in earnest towards the officer’s area now, biting the insides of your cheeks in an effort not to cry. 

You had to keep going. 

You’d promised him you would, just as you’d made him promise in kind.

When you finally found Nixon, you instantly frowned at the bruise blossoming on his forehead.

“What happened to you?” you ask, ignoring the man’s glare and walking over to get a closer look. “Looks like you tangoed with Joe Toye’s brass knuckles and lost.”

“Got shot in the helmet.” Nix grumbles at the same time Richard perks up and squints at you while asking “Toye’s got brass knuckles?”.

You wince, both in response to Nix’s injury and your accidental snitching on Joe. “Whoops.”

Lewis’s eyes catch yours and his brow softens. 

You instantly know what he’s about to bring up, and shake your head preemptively.

“Lew,” you begin with a heavy sigh, only to be shushed like a child before he spoke over you.

“They don’t know anything for sure yet.” he insisted, and you knew that he knew you saw through his bullshit. 

He sometimes tried to be less pessimistic when he knew you were already way ahead of him in that department, but the two of you knew each other well enough by now for you to see it for what it was- him trying to make you feel better, coddling you to make you feel better.

Lying to make you feel better.

Information is truth, everything else is probably a lie.

Your mother was a bitter cynic, but you’d also never once known her to have her heart broken.

Maybe she’d been on to something.

“Yeah,” you’d offered, quickly brushing past him to look at the map on the table. “Maybe. Anyway, when exactly did Market Garden start going to shit? Do you think we were undermanned? Were our maps wrong? Did they have unexpected weaponry….?”

Distract the sad voice in your head offered as you threw yourself into work, using the churning pain in your belly to fuel your motivation to reclaim the town. 

No one gets to hurt you and get away with it. No one gets to take Bull from you and remain unpunished.

You decided then and there that you were going to make the SS bleed for what they’d done, and you knew that if Bull were there he’d tell you to rein it in.

Got murder in your eyes, darling. What’s got you so cross?

But Bull wasn’t here. And you? You had to get over it.

It’s what he would want.

~

~

You had barely slept that night, throwing yourself into rereading all of the intelligence reports until Dick finally ordered you out of the CP tent.

At first you’d fought him on it, still too afraid of being let alone with your own thoughts. But he’d been firm, literally snatching the paperwork from your trembling hands and hovering over you until you relented.

“I don’t want to see you until morning, is that understood?”

With more patience than you deserved he’d held your coat up and helped you slip into it, making a point to pull your knit hat down over your ears before turning you in the direction of where all the soldiers were sleeping.

Even though Bull had promised to be the one to haunt you, it was you who felt like the ghost.

But, like the obedient soldier you were, you walked to the spot where you and Bull had set up camp with Perconte and Luz. Neither man happened to be there at that moment, which was a small blessing because when you saw Bull’s unattended duffel bag in the same spot he’d left it that morning you’d been unable to stop the sob that slipped past your lips.

Like a child, you’d curled around his rucksack and held it close, your fingers tracing over the airborne patches that denoted it as his. 

Had it truly been this morning that you’d woken up in his embrace, groaning in sleepy protest when he refused to let you out of his arms?

“Jus’ a bit longer,” he’d mumbled, bringing a leg up and over your hip to pin you beside him. “Let the boys start fightin’ without us, we’ll catch up later…”

You wish that had been possible. You wished it could have been that simple.

 ~

~

Tears had leaked out of your eyes as you squeezed them shut and the next time you opened them it was morning. At some point in the night either George or Frank had tossed a wool blanket over you.

For a few glorious moments, you had thought Bull’s furnace-like chest had been what was keeping you warm. The blanket was a kindness, but an unintentionally cruel one.

After rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you’d gotten yourself ready and packed up to head out.

Bull’s duffle bag seemed to be filled with bricks as you hefted it over your shoulder with your own, and with each stride you took it only became heavier. You knew the protocol- take the deceased’s belongings to CP for redistribution and personal effects collection. 

It felt like defeat, as if you were giving up on him.

Defeat and reality were seeming to become one and the same, these days.

Your throat was so tight by the time you made it to CP you were barely able to explain what you were doing to Lewis, your arm trembling as you held out the pack to him.

The moment Nix had taken it from your hands, tears began to spill from your eyes and for once you did nothing to stop them.

Nixon had been about to say something to you when Perconte rushed in breathlessly with a call of your name, almost forgetting to salute Lewis when he saw him.

“Oh! Sir. Uh, Y/N- there’s, um,  something you should see—”

You glared at him, trying and failing to hide the fact that you’d been crying from your friend.

“I’m in the middle of something, Perco. Can it wait?”

In the distance you could hear the sound of truck engines, and a new anxiety began to blossom in your chest at the idea of leaving Bull behind.

“But, Y/N…” he protested, clearly tongue-tied and overexcited.

“Oh my God, what?!”

“It’s Bull!”

Your blood froze in your veins, sucking in a breath that felt too big for your body.

You could feel your heartbeat behind your eyes as your lungs screamed for more air, but your body was refusing to blink or breathe or move…..

“That’s….no. W-what’re you—?”

The sight of a truck driving toward a group of Easy and Dog soldiers came to a halt, and you swore you say a familiar glimmer of sandy curls standing at least a foot above the group.

 No. There’s no fucking way….

With wide eyes you turn back to Lewis, seeing an equally confused look on his face. 

You barely wait for his nod of dismissal before looking to Frank again.

“C’mon, I’ll—”

You don’t wait for him to finish, sprinting away from them with a single-minded focus on reaching the horribly familiar silhouette of the man you[d begun to mourn.

Bull Bull Bull BULL DENVER BULL!?!?

With no care for decorum or professionalism, you shove people aside and rush through the throng until you violently skid to a halt before Johnny and Hoob.

And Dever fucking Randleman.

A silent sob twists your face, vision doubling as more tears well in your eyes.

It was him. It was him.

When your eyes find his, you force yourself to take a breath.

He’s dirty and scraped and a little bloody but he’s alive and he’s here and—

You throw yourself at him, arms latching around his neck and legs locking around his hips as he catches you easily in his arms.

“Oh my God,” you whisper shakily, shaking like a leaf and clutching at him as if he were the last lifeboat in a storming sea. “Oh my GOD, Den—!”

Bull’s got one arm across your backside and the other is pressing your torso to his as if he means to fuse the two of you together, his heartbeat loud and strong and powerful against your chest as he twists his cold face into your neck and just breathes you in.

You know that Martin is trying to talk to you, that someone else is telling you to take it easy but you can barely hear them through the roaring sound of life returning to your body.

When he sighs your name you swear that you’ve never heard a sound so sweet.

As you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple, you open your eyes and blink your tears away.

Of course, once you clear your eyes, you see the mess of blood staining his shoulder.

“Jesus Christ!” you gasp, untangling yourself from him in an instant and trying to get out of his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt, you idiot?!”

Bull allows you to unwrap your legs from his waist but refuses to let you go, the arm that had been under your bottom coming up to hold the back of your head lovingly.

A pained yet playful grin breaks across his lips as he eyes you. “Oh, am I?”

You smile stupidly, sniffling at his ridiculous attempt at nonchalance. 

Using his hold on the back of your neck he ducks down and presses a long, meaningful kiss to your lips. You sigh into it, and just as you cup his face in your hands someone clears their throat and you’re reminded that the two of you have an audience.

When you break apart he makes sure to wrap his good arm around your shoulders, and you wince when you catch the looks of surprise being sent your way by the replacements.

Whoops, that was certainly unprofessional….

Bill Guarnere barks a laugh as you shift uncomfortably, slinging his own bag back over his shoulder.

“Shit, if that’s the hello you give to someone who’s been MIA- I’m definitely getting lost more often!”

Martin rolls his eyes, and enough people laugh that some of the tension is broken. 

You turn back to Bull and try to get him to let him show you his shoulder. But Bull has never been an easy man to physically move, especially when moving is something he doesn’t want to do.

This time is no exception.

“Let me see it,” you huff, only to have him smirk and shake his head. “Denver, I could’ve made it worse, I need to make sure—”

“Nah,” he says with a shrug he immediately regrets doing. “How about you kiss it better after Roe gets a look at it, hmm?”

As you open your mouth to reply there is a cry from above that it’s time to get moving, the reminder that there are more pressing matters to attend to shaking you from your anxious worrying.

Because it’s Bull, he hollers for his men to get on the truck as if he had been with them the whole time. 

“I need to go get your stuff, our stuff from CP….”

Bull shakes his head before you’ve finished talking.

“Perco’s got it,” he says with a nod in the man’s direction. “Don’tcha buddy.”

Without waiting for a reply, Bull pulls you along with him towards the trucks, refusing to let you leave his side despite your insistence that Roe needed to take care of him.

Getting into the truck, you help unbutton his shirt so Doc can start cleaning the ragged wound on his shoulder.

Bull brings your knuckles to his lips as the truck begins to move, eyes never leaving your face as he answers Gene’s rapid-fire questions about what had happened in the time Bull had been separated from the group.

“...you lost some blood, how’d you manage not to pass out?”

With a wink in your direction Bull chuckles.

“Considered it, Doc. But then I remembered my missus here was waitn’ and thought better of it.”

You shake your head admonishingly at his explanation.

“You’re really something else, you know that Bull?”

In a move that surprised both you and the Doc, Bull used his grip on your hand to pull you so you were straddling his lap.

“Course I do, Little Lady. I’m yours.”

Well, goddamn.

“Damn right, now shut up and stop flirting.”

The smile he gave you only widened at the command.

“We’ll see, darlin’. We’ll see.”

~ ~ ~ (is it trash? Yes. But is it garbage? Also yes. Love you all and thanks for reading the feels)

taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​

[xbaepsae]

prove it (m)

“How could he not see how this was all affecting you? Why didn’t he realize you needed him to be present in your life? But as much as you needed him to be one hundred percent here for you, a part of you would just rather have him one hundred percent gone.”

[boyfriend!jeongguk x girlfriend!reader]

genre: estranged relationship!au, smut, some angst

word count: 4.9k

rating: mature

warnings: mutual masturbation, jealousy, language

a/n: this is another reupload! i went back and reread this and, honestly, it’s not too shabby. granted, it’s not that complex, but i enjoyed writing this estranged relationship between jk and the reader. kind of want to write a follow up. let me know lol. xoxo

Long distance relationships suck.

Even for the strongest of people, separation is never easy. Ideally, everyone wants to believe that not being with the person they love all the time isn’t a big deal. However, after a while, there are different factors that cause major stress in a relationship.

There’s a lack of communication sometimes; you can’t physically see them often, so you resort to the basic text and phone call. Still, it’s not the same. Seeing someone through a phone is vastly different than physically being with them. There’s a lack of intimacy too; no holding hands, late night cuddles. Your toys and hands can only do so much, unfortunately.

Being long distance wasn’t always the case for you and Jeongguk, but it became a reality when you both decided to attend different universities.

Early in your relationship, you both avoided talks about the future. In the back of your mind, you already knew that you both had different plans for college. But you didn’t want to admit it out loud—not even to him.

A part of you was afraid about the longevity of your relationship. Most long-distance relationships, and even more so with high school relationships, don’t really make it. But you loved Jeongguk; you don’t think you’ll ever be able to love anyone else as much. As cheesy as it may sound, he’s your other half. You knew that there were others out there, but you didn’t want anyone else.

“You’ll call me every day, yeah?” you asked him the day you both graduated.

“Of course,” he caressed your arm. “Every day.”

The first semester at college, you both talked nearly every day. And you were happy; so happy that despite the distance, not much had changed. Even with your different schedules, you both still made time for each other. You both even visited each other—you went to see him during Halloween, and he surprised you before your finals.

But of course, life gets in the way.

After the first winter break, the communication between you two dwindled. And after that first summer, everything changed. Even when you both did happen to be home, you barely had the time to talk let alone hang out. You found out more about Jeongguk’s life from his Instagram account than you did directly from him. Every time you scrolled onto his page, countless pictures of him partying and hanging out with his friends filled your screen—and yet, no time to give you a quick phone call. It was frustrating.

You considered calling it quits multiple times—what is the use of being with someone if you both don’t act like a couple? It was so bad; you couldn’t even remember the last time you two were in the same room. But every time you brought up the issue, Jeongguk did some redeemable act and you forgave him instantly.

It seemed to be a never-ending cycle.

And now, even though you both were well into your third year in college, Jeongguk was still tethering you on a string. How could he not see how this was all affecting you? Why didn’t he realize you needed him to be present in your life? But as much as you needed him to be one hundred percent here for you, a part of you would just rather have him one hundred percent gone.

***

3:14 PM | Jeongguk: I’ll call you later

3:15 PM | You: for real?

You watched the text bubble pop up for a few seconds before disappearing. And when it disappears, it doesn’t pop up again. A sigh leaves your mouth as you drop your phone onto the table.

“Are you texting him?”

Looking up, you make eye contact with your friend Taehyung. “Yeah…”

“And?” Taehyung prompts you to finish your sentence.

“And…he said he’ll call me later,” you say, “but these types of texts from Jeongguk are pointless and disappointing.”

You met Taehyung your first year at college, and immediately hit it off. You helped him with his math homework, and he paid you back by listening to all of your Jeongguk drama. Sometimes you wished you could fall for Taehyung—a relationship with him was bound to be easier than the one you had right now—but he was already in a deeply committed relationship with the cute librarian assistant, Jimin.

“I mean, at least he texted you, right?” your friend attempts to make you feel better, but you feel anything but that.

“I guess.”

“Well don’t be too hard on yourself, buttercup,” Taehyung smiles, “because today is not the day to be down in the dumps!”

Half the time, you have no idea what the words that came out of his mouth even mean. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t you remember?” You have no idea. “It’s Hoseok’s birthday tonight!”

After a few moments, the gears in your head begin moving and you remember Taehyung mentioning something about it last week. You aren’t really close with Hoseok though; he’s Taehyung’s friend and a member of the soccer team, so it slipped your mind.

You have only chatted with Hoseok twice; once was at a party freshman year and you were wasted, and the second was in line for coffee at Starbucks; but you were pretty sure he had no idea who you were. “But I don’t really even know him.”

“Y/n, he doesn’t care who comes; hell, I think he invited the entire school. Besides, I already told him that you’re my plus one since Jimin can’t make it.”

Even though it was a Friday, you were not in the mood to do anything. All you wanted was to return back to your apartment and sleep until Monday rolled around. “Tae…”

“It’ll take your mind off of Jeongguk,” he says in a sing-song voice.

And he’s right—it will be a distraction from your issues in the love department. You think about it for a moment before deciding to hell with it; you’re going to allow yourself to enjoy tonight. “Okay fine, I’ll go.”

Taehyung gets up in that moment and engulfs you in a hug, which attracts the stares of many people in the room. “Thanks y/n!”

“I think you can let me go now,” you pat his back and he lets you go with an airy oh.

“Okay, well, I’ll swing by your place at around seven and then we’ll goooooo!”

You laugh at his enthusiasm and bid your friend goodbye as you both leave. You’re pretty sure Taehyung has a class, but he’s going the opposite direction…so you’re not sure what he’s doing. But you don’t think too much about it and make it back to your apartment. There, you greet your roommate, Nana.

“Hey, girl hey,” she smiles, and you’re struck once again by how pretty she is.

You and Nana have been roommates since you both started going to school here. Most people don’t end up living with their first roommate their entire stay at college, but you both got along well and there has never been a problem. Also, you two just knew too much about each other’s living habits at this point to live with other people.

“Hi,” you smile back, setting your things down before falling down onto the couch beside her.

“So, how was your day?”

Since you both are juniors and have busy schedules, it seems like you never really get to see each other. Which sucks because you honestly consider Nana to be your best friend, besides Taehyung of course.

“It’s been okay,” you begin, “I barely passed my exam in history and managed to turn in my paper for lit right before the deadline…and Jeongguk texted me.”

“Jeongguk texted you?” she only seems to pick up the last bit you said.

“Yep,” you pop the end of the word.

“How’d that go?”

You give her a look, “Horrible.”

Nana gives you a sympathetic smile, “Sorry boo that you have such a shitty boyfriend.”

“He’s not shitty…he’s just…” you try to get the words out about how loving Jeongguk really is, but your mind fails you. Maybe she’s right. “Okay, maybe he is being a little shit right now.”

“You know, I really liked Jeongguk when I first met him,” your roommate says. “But then he just stopped coming to see you.”

You sigh and burry your head into a pillow, “I know.”

“What did he even text you about?”

“He said that he’ll call or whatever—but I’m not even sure if he’s serious, or just messing with me,” you lift your head up. “Do you know that we haven’t talked since school started again?”

Nana gasps, “That was almost two months ago.”

“Exactly.”

“Y/n!” she screams your name. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m actually going crazy, Nana,” you feel defeated; what kind of relationship is this? “But maybe tonight will get this shit off my mind.”

“What are you doing tonight?” she asks.

You explain how Taehyung has basically dragged you to Hoseok’s birthday party and even though you don’t want to go that much, you need to forget about Jeongguk for one night. Nana thankfully agrees with you. She even says that you can borrow one of her dresses since you don’t, in her words, own anything nice.

“Wow are you saying I have no style?” you pretend to be hurt.

“I’m saying you don’t have clothes appropriate for nights like these,” Nana laughs and tells you to follow her to her closet.

When you walk into her room and open her closet—you let her have the bigger closet because she has more clothes than you anyway—you’re not surprised to see a variety of mini skirts and dresses. Nana definitely goes out more than you ever do and proclaims that she can never wear the same outfit twice. “What shall we put you in?”

You shrug, “I’m down to wear anything.”

But maybe you’re giving Nana too much free reign because as she begins to dig through her closet, she pulls out the most revealing dress you’ve ever seen. She tosses it you before you can blink and demands that you have to wear it.

You nearly fall over from the force of the dress, but somehow manage to catch it. Pulling it away from your body, you immediately begin to shake your head. There was no way in hell you can go out in public like this—you don’t even want to wear it in the safety of your apartment. The dress is black with a plunging back and an equally plunging front. And with its short length, it leaves nothing to the imagination. “Hell no.”

“Come on, y/n!” Nana whines, mouth dropping when you fling the dress onto the floor. “This dress will look so good on you!”

“I don’t think anyone can wear this dress,” you frown as she hands you the dress again.

Your roommate rolls her eyes, “Please—I wore this! And I got a ton of male attention that night…you will too.”

But you don’t want the attention of multiple guys, just want the attention of one. “I don’t know, Nana. I’m not one to wear this kind of stuff…”

“Just this one time! Trust me.”

And even though you’re completely out of your element, you succumb to Nana’s demands and trudge into the closet to try the dress on. You let your clothes fall onto the carpeted floor and slip the revealing dress on. Surprisingly, even though you and Nana aren’t necessarily the same size, the dress seems to fit; you just hope all your precious body parts aren’t hanging out on full display.

When you step out for your roommate to see the dress, her jaw drops, and she lets out the loudest ear piercing scream you’ve ever heard. It’s so loud, you’re positive the neighbors heard it.

“Oh my god, y/n! You look so fucking good,” she pushes you towards her full-length mirror and the air seems to leave your lungs.

“I…” you’re at a loss for words, “I…actually like it?”

Nana screams again and proceeds to hug you, but you can’t stop staring at the mirror. You hated the way the dress looked on the hanger; now, is it crazy for you to say it makes you feel like a bad bitch? It feels like you can conquer the world.

“I told you!” Nana exclaims. “God—you look so good; you can just keep the dress after this. I don’t think I could ever wear it again after you just slayed my existence.”

“Okay, you’re just being dramatic at this point.”

“But no seriously, you look amazing and fucking Jeon Jeongguk is missing out,” she says hugging you again. “Can I do your hair and makeup?”

A few hours later, the doorbell rings as you slip your shoes on. Nana runs to answer the door and you smile as Taehyung walks in. The moment his eyes land on you, he stops in his tracks and brings a hand up to his mouth. “Y/n?”

“Don’t look so shocked,” you roll your eyes.

“Who are you and what did you do with y/n?” he runs up to you, inspecting your body from head to toe. “Who knew you had this side in you?”

“You can thank me for that,” Nana slides beside you, offering a bright smile.

After a little convincing, you managed to bribe Nana in coming out tonight too. Your main argument for making her go out too is that you needed someone to last the night with. Even though you are technically Taehyung’s date, he never stays out long and you didn’t want to be left alone with Hoseok and his friends. And you promised that all the drinks were on you, which made her agree in a heartbeat.

“I’m actually blown away,” Taehyung rubs his eyes.

You feel a bit of pride flare up inside of you; if your friends were already so blown away, you can only imagine the reactions from other people.

“You guys are so nice,” you smile before Taehyung makes it known that you all have to go before the party begins.

The three of you hop into his car as he drives to the place where Hoseok’s hosting his party. It’s at a local bar just down the street from school and when you get there, you see a huge sign with the words ‘Happy Birthday Hoseok’ in bold letters. Well, that’s one way to let everyone know. As Taehyung parks, you realize just how many people are here; birthday boy must’ve really invited everyone.

Walking inside the bar, Hoseok stands front and center and immediately greets you guys.

“Taehyung!” he excitedly says, a bright smile om his face. “Glad you could make it.”

The two of them shake hands before Taehyung wishes him a happy birthday and points to you, “You know y/n and Nana, right?”

“Of course,” Hoseok turns to you and immediately takes in your appearance. You notice his eyes widen at your dress before they meet your gaze. “Glad you guys could make it.”

You redden under his heated look as he reaches a hand out and you return the favor by extending your own too. Taehyung quickly suggests that you all take a picture together before the night gets too crazy and Nana forces you beside Hoseok. You give her a wide-eyed look, but she just smiles. You offer your phone to someone nearby and they tell you four to get into position.

The phone camera flashes while you offer your biggest smile. A few more flashes go off before the phone gets passed back in your direction. You swipe through the pictures, because one is simply not sufficient, and are pleasantly pleased with yourself. You have to admit it, you look pretty good.

“Damn, y/n!” Nana brings the attention to you and everyone begins to ask to see the pictures. But before Nana can pass your phone around, Hoseok tells you that he has to attend to the rest of his guests. At that, you quickly send everyone the pictures.

“I’ll catch you later?” he asks, and you realize he’s talking to you. Heat creeps up your face as you reply with a tentative sure and watch Hoseok walk away.

The moment he’s out of sight, Taehyung and Nana turn to you simultaneously saying that he definitely likes you. And while you’re flattered by the attention, you’re not interested. So you just brush your friends off and walk deeper into the bar. You order the three of you drinks and look at the pictures again.

“I think you should post the pictures,” Nana says sipping her drink.

You raise a brow, “Why?”

“Because you look good,” she talks like it’s the most obvious thing ever.

“Isn’t it a bit scandalous?”

“No?” Taehyung’s words come out like a question. “I’m posting one of these too.”

“Yeah but it’s normal for you to post stuff like this.” You honestly aren’t one to post suggestive pictures. Your feed is rather plain and simple. Also, you don’t party much either so might just look weird, or are you thinking way too much about this?

“Maybe it will elicit a reaction from that boyfriend of yours.”

Your ears perk up at Nana’s words. “I don’t think he even checks my social media…”

She raises a brow, “Girl, all men check their girls social accounts whether they like to admit it or not. Besides, he posted up pics with his boys earlier…why can’t you?”

She has a point. As the two of you were getting ready before, you scrolled through Jeongguk’s profile and saw that he posted a picture from last night. And it was the same pictures he was always posting—him and his friends with those damn red solo cups. If Jeongguk can post pictures of him at parties, why can’t you?

And at the end of the day, they are just pictures—completely harmless. You quickly scroll through the pictures again and pick the one that you look best in. After editing the picture and adding a witty caption, you press post. As you watch the page load, your heart races. Soon, a text bubble pops up signaling that the picture has been posted and you internally scream.

“Did you do it?” Nana asks, looking over your shoulder.

All you can do is nod and shove your phone away from you. “Can we just forget I did that?”

Taehyung and Nana don’t need to be told twice before ordering a round of shots for you, which you down without a fight.

***

As the night progresses, you actually do forget that you posted the picture.

With your phone on silent and your body a little more than slightly buzzed, you let the music and atmosphere of the bar take you away. By this point, you aren’t sure what time it is or where Taehyung went. You’re betting that he already left, but you’re too absentminded to really care right now. Beside you is Nana, but she’s rather preoccupied with a guy.

You try to grab her attention, to let her know that you need to run to the bathroom, but it’s fruitless so you just leave. In the bathroom, you push open a stall and let out a cry when your phone falls and narrowly misses the toilet. Thank god. Picking up the phone, you suddenly realize how many unread messages and missed phones you actually have…and they’re all from Jeongguk. You briefly run over the messages and see that he’s been leaving message after message for you to call him.

As if the ten missed calls weren’t enough.

Quickly doing your business, you run out of the bathroom and tell Nana that you need to go back to the apartment. But instead of the both of you leaving, she tells you that she’s more than likely not coming back tonight, and you catch the look in her eyes. Before calling an Uber back, you make her promise to text you and then you’re off.

The moment you step through the threshold of your place, you call him. And surprisingly enough, he answers on the first ring.

“Y/n.” As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve missed his voice.

“Hello to you, too,” you dismiss such defeating thoughts and try to remember your anger towards him.

On the other side of the phone, he sighs, “Where are you?”

“At home,” you tell him, kicking off your heels and walking into your bedroom.

“I see…” he says. “So, you’re not out at a party? I saw the picture you posted.”

You release a deep breath. So that’s what this phone call is about.

“Did you just call to chew me out?” you fall onto your bed. “Because if that’s the case, I don’t want to hear it.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Why the fuck do even you care?” you retort. “I see you partying every week too, and do I make a big deal out of it? No. You’re such a hypocrite.”

Jeongguk is quiet for a moment. He’s so quiet you almost think he’s hung up on you, but before you can say anything else, he asks, “Are you still at the party?”

You roll your eyes, “I told you I’m at home already.”

“Prove it,” he says.

You don’t even know what he’s asking for. How are you supposed to prove you were at your apartment? “What?”

“Skype me.” Oh.

“Isn’t it a little late,” you say, peering at the clock on your wall that reads a little after midnight. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

Even though you’re angry at Jeongguk ninety-five percent of the time, that doesn’t mean you don’t care to know what goes on in his life. You know that he has practice every Saturday morning and if he doesn’t sleep, he’ll be a cranky little baby.

“Practice is cancelled tomorrow.” It’s like he’s read your mind or something. And after much contemplating, you tell him you’ll skype him.

Grabbing your laptop from the floor, you can’t deny the anxious excitement you feel. You also can’t deny the fact that you miss Jeongguk desperately, even though he can be an asshole. It’s honestly been so long and you want nothing more than to see his face again. Logging onto your skype account, you click on his little icon and watch as the screen begins to make a call. As it loads and connects, you situate your laptop away from you.

And the moment Jeongguk appears on your screen, you feel an array of emotions. He’s in his room, you can tell from his blue pillows and the posters that line the wall behind him. A part of you wants to cry as dumb as it sounds; it just feels like you haven’t seen him in so long. Your eyes run over the softness of his features before meeting his piercing gaze.

“Hey,” you offer a half-smile.

“Hey.”

“So,” you clear your throat, “as you can see, I am at home…in my room.”

He nods, not looking away from you, “Sorry for doubting you. That picture…just really fucked me up.”

“Why?” you question, shifting your position.

“First of all, you look fucking amazing in that dress,” Jeongguk smirks and you remember that you’re still in Nana’s revealing dress, face heating up. “Second, that guy’s hand on your body was literally too much.”

You’re not sure what he’s talking about, so you look back at the picture and notice that Hoseok’s hand was wrapped rather tightly your waist. “I didn’t even realize.”

“Sure.”

“No, I’m serious,” you look back at Jeongguk. “I barely know the guy. It was his birthday tonight and Taehyung invited me.”

“And you still let him put his hands all over you?” he asks.

Why is he getting so angry about the picture? It was just a photo. Never in all the years you two have been together has he ever been like this. Is he jealous? You haven’t thought to pin him as the jealous type, but perhaps it’s finally showing.

“Are you jealous?” you narrow your eyes as his own widen.

“Of course not,” he brushes you off. “I just don’t like it when guys put their hands all over other people’s girlfriends.”

He’s totally jealous and your heart begins to warm at his words. “I’m your girlfriend?”

You’re teasing him and he doesn’t seem to catch on. “Are you not?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Doesn’t really seem like it sometimes. I mean, you never call me. Aren’t people supposed to call their girlfriends? And I just feel neglected, you know? Like you’re living a completely different life from me—like we’re not even dating.”

“I’m sorry,” he immediately says, wetting his bottom lip. “I just—I’ve gotten caught up with life lately. I mean it when I say I’m going to call, because I really want to, but it doesn’t always happen.”

You’re a bit shocked at his apologetic confession because you were not expecting it. Jeongguk is not usually the one in your relationship to cave in first; you’re usually the one who comes running to him. Maybe he does still care about you in the same way he did all those years ago.

“You’re sorry?” you ask. “Prove it.”

His eyebrows raise at your repeated phrase. “What?”

“If you’re so sorry…show me.”

Where these words are coming from, you literally have no idea. While you cave in first, Jeongguk is way more forward about his intentions. It’s like your roles have switched and you strangely love it. His eyes stare into yours with so much intensity, it almost feels like he’s right here with you and not just on your laptop screen.

You wait for him to say something—do something; the anticipation of his actions have you squirming on your bed.

“Take off the dress,” he suddenly says, voice much lower than before.

Your insides clench as you raise your body to kneel on the bed and unzip the dress, letting it fall into a pile around your knees. Jeongguk lets out a deep breath as he takes in your smooth skin, body only covered by your flimsy underwear.

“I couldn’t wear a bra with the dress,” you smile at his reaction.

“Fuck, y/n,” he swears. “Take off the underwear and sit back on the bed. I want to see you.”

You oblige and fling your last item of clothing onto the floor. You’re about to do as Jeongguk wishes and lay back, but you stop. “I want to see you, too.”

His eyes darken as he pushes his laptop forward to reveal more of himself and peels the white t-shirt off his body. Your eyes drink in the muscles that adorns his body—god, it’s been so long since you’ve seen him like this. You’ve missed this all terribly. After chucking his skirt to the side, he pushes the waistband of his sweats down and reveals his already hard cock.

“Commando?” you smile, body heating up with desire. As you say this, he begins to slowly stroke himself and you swear that nothing hotter has ever graced your eyes.

“Lay back for me baby,” he whispers, and you follow his instructions, leaning back onto your headboard so you can still see him. “Touch that pretty pussy of yours for me.”

And you begin touching yourself, hands rubbing your sensitive clit. The first touch already has you moaning Jeongguk’s name. Fuck; you wish he was here with you right now. You wish it was him whose hands were touching you instead of your own. So you imagine his hands on your body instead and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.

“It feels so good,” you moan, watching your boyfriend as he moves his hand up and down his hard shaft. You can see the bit of pre-cum that has already leaked out of his head and you want nothing more than to lick it off. “Jeongguk…”

“You’re so hot,” he forces through clenched teeth. “Stick a finger inside baby. I want to see you fuck yourself.”

You do—you stick one and then another, pretending Jeongguk is actually entering you instead of your fingers. You start with a steady rhythm, slowly moving in and out before going a little faster. Jeongguk begins to match his pace with you and you feel yourself getting close. Your hips begin to buck up into your hands and your palm rubs against your sweet spot.

Sweat begins to bead along your forehead and you use your other hand to rub little circles into your clit again. “I’m so close.”

Jeongguk groans at the image he’s seeing, you desperate for relief. “Cum for me baby; I need you to cum, okay?”

And you can’t help it, you cry as your orgasm hits. It sends waves of pleasure throughout your body, causing your legs to shake. The entire time you ride the high, you’re saying Jeongguk’s name and it isn’t long before his own orgasm arrives. You watch as his face contorts, brows furrowed together and mouth slightly parted, and his load shoots onto his abdomen.

His dark hair is drenched in sweat, and chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. Jeongguk brushes his hair back and grabs his discarded t-shirt to wipe himself. You sit back up on the bed after you catch your own breath and brush your hair to the side.

“Thanks for that,” you tell him, and he laughs.

“Thank you, too,” Jeongguk smiles. “I needed that.”

“Same,” your eyes bore into his and silence passes between the two of you. You know this moment doesn’t change much; there is still a lot of work that needs to be done in your relationship. However, what you do know is that Jeongguk still cares and that give you hope. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you more.”

[fierysafrina]

Chapter 5.5.Catching up with you

Masterlist | Chapter 5 | x | Chapter 6

When a text message sent to the wrong number leads to many different things and it makes your world come crashing down once again.

Genre: Slice of Life | Hurt/Comfort | slight Angst Word count: 1.600 Note: Yes there are also going to be written parts. And for that scene with the toy in the reader’s hear is actually what really happened to me in kindergarten lmao a boy really did that to me and I almost forgot it until I reread this chapter just now and I’m not sure what the teacher did, but it was a really shitty move

You still weren't sure how exactly you agreed to go on a drink with Nash. Perhaps it was because of Alice's words, or perhaps there was a part of you that wanted to see how much he had changed. But that couldn't be, because you knew Nash from before. He was a tease, a trickster that always got on your nerves, always teasing you to no end.

Standing in front of a café, you were waiting. You checked the time for the tenth time and realised it only passed five minutes. Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your forehead and sighed.

"What's with the sigh?" A male voice spoke and your head snapped up.

Well knowing eyes stared at you, the corners of the man's lips turned upwards in a smirk.

“Nash…” You greeted quietly.

It didn’t seem to faze him as his smirk turned into a smile instead. “I hope you didn’t wait too long.”

“No,” you shook your head. Who were you to tell him you arrived half an hour earlier because you were nervous to meet him again. You definitely won’t tell him, already seeing his grin across his lips that would obviously tell you; “I knew you couldn’t do without me.”

Just that smile alone you wanted to smack off his face.

“Well, should we go?” he stepped aside.

You blinked before you nodded. “This café or somewhere else?” you asked and tilted head to the side, a form of gesturing towards the café you stood in front.

“Here’s fine.” He answered. “There’s not much of a crowd unlike other places.”

“Right…” you murmured. “You’re quite famous now.” You averted your gaze and Nash chuckled.

It took your breath away because it’s been so long since you last heard it and it was completely different. There was no sign of a boy neither in his appearance, less alone his voice. Only now, as you walked inside the café did it dawn you that you weren’t the only one that has changed. Nash has as well. And that was painfully obvious.

Sitting across each other, your arms were crossed across your chest, silence stretching between. Neither of you said a word as you waited for your drinks to come. Your gaze was focused mostly on the street outside, observing people while you felt eyes on you. And indeed; every time you glanced at Nash, he was looking at you. Constantly. Not once had he looked away, not even when the drinks arrived.

“You’ve changed.”

The words he spoke startled you.

You turned your head, eyes wide as you stared at him. “What?” you murmured more to yourself, but still loud enough for him to hear.

“Well, you used to be more … expressive or how should I say.”

“Yeah, because you got gum in my hair.”

“That was twenty years ago.”

“Baby, I can’t remember what I ate yesterday for lunch, so it’s a lot if I remember what you did to me twenty years ago.” you argued back with a huff.

How could you tell Alice and Shuzo you had a crush on him? He was everything you avoided.

He snorted and you glared at him. Covering his mouth with his hand, he looked down at his cup of black coffee, making you reach for your drink instead. There was silence, but this time it wasn’t awkward like it was before. It felt rather nice, pleasant if you could say so. You could spot a small smile growing behind his hand and you didn’t have it in yourself to call him out on it.

“You had a game today, didn’t you?”

Nash’s eyes widened, but he nodded. “Against Heat.”

You hummed, a small smile across your lips. “How was it?”

“As usual,” he shrugged. “We won easily.”

At that you scoffed. “Of course you did. You always win, don’t you?”

“Not always.” He murmured to himself that you barely caught it. Before you could ask what he meant, he asked; “So what are you up to these days?”

“Job market,” you shrugged with a sigh. “Searching for a job. I won’t ask what about you, cause I’m literally seeing you on every sports channel and everywhere in LA.” At that you both laughed.

“It’s been a while.” You said out of nowhere.

Nash stared at you like he was trying to read you, but quickly gave up on it. He took another sip of his coffee only to grimace at the bitterness because in the next moment he took sugar from the table and poured it in. You couldn’t help but laugh, making him look at you in confusion.

“I never thought I’d see you drink coffee one day.” You covered your mouth behind a hand, a teasing smile on your lips. “I imagined you’d be more of an alcohol type.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint you, princess.” He grumbled under his breath and you laughed once again. “I can’t exactly drink alcohol before the game, can I?”

“Well, I heard of some players that did and still do.”

“Well I’m not one of them.” He snapped rather harshly, his glare intensifying.

You raised your hands in defense, a teasing smile on your lips. “Well, you certainly have changed in some regards.” you mumbled, but Nash heard you loud and clearly.

“I can always go back if you want me to.”

“Well, don’t let me be the reason for you to get suspended or have bad luck.” You shook your head. “I don’t want your fans on my back either. I already had to deal with that in school all those years back.”

“Not that you were against having my attention aimed at you.”

At those words you felt your cheeks heat up, the tips of your ears along, and you blabbered incoherent words. “W-why did you a-ask me out today o-of all days?” you stuttered.

“Can’t I?” was his simple reason that made you scowl. “I told you; I wanted to catch up with you.”

“That’s bullshit and we both know it.”

“Not really,” he shook his head. He stared directly into your eyes and you couldn’t help feeling embarrassed, because he was looking at you so sincerely that all those rumours you heard made you wonder if he truly was capable of things he did.

But then you remembered Sarah and Nash in a classroom long after classes were done. How you couldn’t believe what you were seeing, because you didn’t want to believe it. How your chest felt tight and even had trouble breathing. All because you didn’t want to believe those rumours you heard. Because when Nash was with you, he was anything but arrogant. Sure he teased you and pulled on your hair, but that was all there was. He didn’t call you names, pet names or did anything too mean.

So many times you heard that he liked you, especially from your parents and relatives. But if he liked you, why was he hurting you?

“What are you thinking?” His voice brought you back from your thoughts.

You forced a smile; “Nothing.” Taking your drink, you took another sip before you focused back on the street outside. “You know what,” you spoke after a moment and faced him. “Why did you do that? Why were you pulling on my hair and put the gum in my hair? Or that time when you drove a damn toy truck into my hair so the teacher had to cut it.”

Nash’s cheeks turned into a bright shade of red and he coughed, avoiding your gaze. It seemed like he was embarrassed that you brought that out, but you wanted to know why he did that. All this time you thought he hated you, but when he was nice to you, it also confused you. You didn’t know how to feel about him, so your feelings for him changed constantly.

“I-I don’t know …” he stuttered out an answer. You raised an eyebrow at that, hardly believing it. “I-I just did what I thought was okay to do.”

“Yeah, well, it certainly wasn’t okay.” You crossed your arms, going on defense in a second. “I had no idea if I did something wrong to you or what. One moment you teased me constantly and then you acted all nice. What even was that?”

“I did that to everyone.”

Something about the way he said it, you didn’t like. His words sent sadness through you and your breath hitched. Your eyes grew teary, but you controlled your emotions before he could see your demeanour change. You didn’t want to give him any reason to pick on or tease you again. You didn’t need more misfortune in your life like you did all those years back.

“Of course you did.” Your voice turned just a bit colder than usually.

Nash looked at you, his eyes just a bit wider, but instead of saying anything about it, he blurted out; “Wanna go out with me tonight?”

"You know what? Yeah." You said and it took you a moment to realise what you just said. You both stared at each other like you both grew another head before you burst into laughter. Nash followed quickly after, a rather comfortable silence stretching between the two of you.

You glanced outside and saw the sky slowly turning darker and for some odd reason you didn't mind Nash's presence.

“Where do you wanna go?” he asked after a moment, breaking the silence.

You shrugged. “Surprise me.”

Nash mirrored it and he stood up, you along. He paid for the drinks before you left, both completely unaware of curious gazes that followed you at the distance.