#not being able to see ur following the moment u get on ur page is something ill forever love about tumblr not going to lie. less stress…

[vellichorsdesire]

scratch having almost 300 actually IM AT 300 FOLLOWERS ? THANK? YOU?????!!

[notiddygothgf]

4. Taste Like Nicotine

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Go back to Himeno. ❞ ❝ No. That's not what you want. ❞

★ c.w.: suggestive themes, drinking (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HELLO AGAIN MY POOKIE DOOKIES!! IM BACK AGAIN. bc i have nothing better to do atm and i wanted to give yall a lil sum sum before i moved away to uni. please excuse the pacing of this chapter -- this fanfic was supposed to be a oneshot and uh... now its 160 pages in google docs LMFAOOA.. things get spicy in this chapterrr! so yeah anyway, you know the drill, keep me entertained -- keep your funny little comments coming, I absolutely love reading them. You guys motivate me to keep going! Love yall

★ w.c.;4.1k

shameless ; chapter index

THE OFFICE WAS QUIET, the hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional rustling of papers the only sounds that broke the silence. You were alone, finishing up some last-minute paperwork after hours. The mission had gone surprisingly well—no casualties, a rare feat in your line of work. The team had even managed to kill a large Devil containing a piece of Gun Devil Flesh, a significant victory. Yet, instead of joining the others to celebrate, you had chosen to stay behind. Partly to avoid any awkward encounters with Himeno, but mostly because you felt restless, unable to shake off the events of the past few days.

As you finished up the last of your reports, you glanced at the new message on your phone.

HIMENO| you didn't come tonight.

Typing...

YOU

| I didn't think you'd wanna see me after the stunt I pulled.

HIMENO| I dont, but I wanted u to know that everyone is talking abt u

YOU

| ??

| wym

HIMENO

| your shadow didn't come tonight, either.

Typing...

YOU| look, himeno, ive actually been wanting to talk to you about that

| would you be able to meet up and talk it out?

HIMENO| id rather not honestly.

| ur a grown woman and i cant stop u from doing what u want

| but just know that people in pb. safety talk

| dont mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for aki

| u should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs

YOU| I understand that I've hurt you, Himeno, and I'm sorry

| I have no intentions of being with Aki.

HIMENO| good

| dont get him mixed up in ur fucked up marriage

|  he doesnt deserve that.

You sighed, pocketing your phone. There were certain battles you simply couldn't win. This would undoubtedly be one of them.

It was late, and you knew you should head home. You gathered your things and made your way down the dimly lit hallways, your footsteps echoing in the emptiness.

As you passed the breakroom, you heard voices. One familiar voice, more specifically.

You slowed your pace, not wanting to intrude but curious enough to catch a snippet of the conversation. The door was slightly ajar, and you could see two figures inside.

"You look desperate, dude," the unknown person said, barely audible. "It's not attractive."

"I'm becoming ridiculous," Captain Hayakawa said, his voice low and strained. "I'm losing hope."

"Hope of what? Convincing a married woman to break her vows?" the other person retorted, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

Are they talking about me? You asked. You knew the answer. You simply did not want to confront it.

Hayakawa sighed. "I thought she would call me by now," he admitted, the vulnerability in his voice making your stomach churn uncomfortably. "I just... there was something there."

There was a pause, then the other person sighed, his voice softening. "God, you are ridiculous." After a moment, he added, almost reluctantly, "Shit, sorry, man. I know you like her."

"No, you're right," He replied, a note of resignation following his words. "She doesn't want to speak to me. I'm driving myself crazy waiting for someone who's never gonna call."

You felt a knot tighten in your stomach, guilt and confusion swirling together. You hadn't intended to eavesdrop, but now you couldn't just walk away without feeling a pang of something—regret, perhaps? The slip of paper with his number, still in your possession, weighed heavily in your mind. You had been avoiding the situation, avoiding him, and now it was clear how much it had affected him.

Aki's words echoed in your ears as you stood frozen in the hallway.

He was right; you hadn't called him. You hadn't even acknowledged the note, too caught up in your own turmoil and guilt to consider his feelings. Now, hearing him speak so openly, you felt a rush of emotions—sympathy, guilt, confusion. There had been a moment between you, an undeniable spark, but you had chosen to ignore it, to pretend it didn't exist.

When would it all come crashing down – your efforts? This whole situation?

The conversation in the breakroom continued, but you couldn't listen any longer. You turned away, your heart pounding. As you made your way to the exit, you couldn't help but replay Aki's words in your mind.

He had been waiting for you, hoping you would reach out, and now he was losing hope. Fuck.

He had been waiting for me.

The idea thrilled you, for some strange reason. Maybe because you hadn't felt desired like this in years – it made your head spin. But another part of you was terrified—of what it might mean, of the complications it would bring, of the impact on your marriage.

You couldn't help yourself. You did what you always did. You ran away from him.

You knew you couldn't avoid him forever, but for now, you needed time to think. .

7:45 PM

Typing... 

Hey. |

Typing...

Hello, |

Typing...

How are you? |

Typing...

Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party. I think you should be there.

SENT.

YOU | Hey. They're taking me out for drinks tn as a sendoff party.

I think you should be there.

| At the Sip-n-savor in downtown Tokyo

Seen 8:00 PM .

The night went on without a flaw. The atmosphere was infectious, and you had been trying to let loose, drink in hand, as you chatted and danced with the others. But as the night wore on, a sense of unease settled in. Maybe it was the drinks, maybe it was the memories of the overheard conversation in the breakroom, or maybe it was the subtle disappointment that someone hadn't shown up.

Excusing yourself, you made your way to the bathroom. The mirror reflected your flushed cheeks and slightly smudged makeup. You sighed, turning on the faucet and splashing some water on your face. As you washed your hands, you found yourself thinking about Aki.

Despite everything, a depraved part of you had hoped to see him tonight. You had been both relieved and disappointed when he hadn't shown up—relieved because it meant avoiding an awkward conversation, disappointed because you had been... well, actually looking forward to seeing him.

As you touched up your makeup, you couldn't help but reflect on your own conflicted feelings. You were married, committed, and yet, Aki had stirred something in you that you simply couldn't stand to ignore. It was confusing, disorienting. You weren't sure what you felt more strongly: guilt for being drawn to him or frustration that you couldn't just let it go.

"Ugh," You groaned, pressing your forehead against the sink. "'M g'nna be sick."

Feeling a bit lightheaded from the drinks, you decided to step outside for some fresh air. You left the bathroom and – completely drunk – maneuvered through the crowds to the nearest door.

The cool night breeze was a welcome relief against your warm skin, and you leaned against the balcony railing, taking deep breaths. The city lights twinkled below, and you watched them in a daze, trying to steady your thoughts.

That's when you saw him.

Aki was just entering the party, his sharp suit and dark hair making him stand out immediately. You felt your heart skip a beat. Then another. He was killing you.

He came, you thought, a strange mix of emotions flooding you. Relief, excitement, and that persistent undercurrent of guilt all tangled together.

He spotted you almost immediately and made his way over. As he approached, you couldn't help but think how painfully gorgeous he looked, the dim lighting casting a soft glow on his features. In that moment, he seemed almost like a knight in shining armor, a figure out of place in the lively, chaotic setting of the bar.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice smooth and warm, a balm to your nerves.

"Hey," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked, a slight concern in his tone. "You're not cold?"

He always seemed to be worried about you and the weather. Still, the chill felt nice against your hot skin, oddly enough.

I missed you, you didn't say. You didn't even think about it. You knew that in a day you would be back on the train and all of this would just be a bad dream, anyway.

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "No, I just needed some air. It's a bit stuffy in there."

Aki didn't respond immediately, and when you turned your head up to look at him, his expression was unreadable. The noise from inside the bar seemed distant, the world narrowing down to just the two of you in that moment. You felt a tug in your chest, a pull towards him that you couldn't explain, couldn't deny.

"Did you pregame the bar, or something?" You laughed quietly. It felt nice, being able to pretend nothing had ever happened between the two of you and just... enjoy each other's company. "You smell like beer."

"I was having a few drinks with my roommate before you texted me," He answered. Then, looking out onto the street, he added, "He told me I shouldn't come tonight. Said you're driving me crazy."

"So, why are you here, then?" You asked.

He looked at you. "I think you know why I'm here."

There was a brief silence, comfortable yet charged with the unspoken. You glanced at him, noticing the way his eyes lingered on you, soft but searching. It was the same look he had given you in the seminar, the museum, everywhere else, and it stirred something deep inside you.

You hated the way he made you feel.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He asked you. His voice was as deep and rich as ever, and you had about half a mind to take him up on the offer.

You shivered. You knew it wasn't from the cold air. It was him – the smell of him, his cologne, the distinct scent of nicotine that let you know he had just finished smoking a cigarette. It was an aroma so unique to him that you had grown to like it.

You were looking at his lips before you knew it, giving way to a craving you couldn't explain, "I'll try a cigarette, if you have any."

He smiled softly, reaching into his pocket and flipping open a carton of cigarettes and a lighter. He placed a cancer stick between your lips, and you felt a part of you die a little. He struck the wheel of the lighter, bringing the cigarette to life.

You coughed so hard that you nearly hacked up a lung. It had been years since your last cigarette.

Hayakawa stepped behind you, cupping a hand around your elbow, sliding it up your arm, your wrist, your fingers before he plucked the cigarette from your digits.

"First time?" He asked, warm voice hot against your neck.

"Wanted to give it a try," You shrugged. You didn't know what, exactly, had gotten into you. It seemed that with every sip of liquor you took lately, you crept closer and closer back to your old self. The sort of liquid courage that made people make very bad decisions. "Sorry. I'm a little," You waved your hands around yourself, trying to gesture 'drunk' without actually saying it.

"How brave of you," He murmured, pulling a hit from your cigarette and exhaling. He was the picture of sin – face flushed with alcohol, messy bangs, pink lips wrapped around a cancer stick. He was so pretty it hurt.

"I'll try it again when I'm sober," You offered.

"When?" He asked, breathing smoke out into the air. "Where?"

As persistent as always, you thought. Still, you didn't necessarily mind the attention anymore. You told yourself that it didn't matter – you would be out of here soon anyway, and everything would be far behind you before you knew it.

"Why is it that every time I'm inebriated... God tests me by throwing you in my way?" You laughed, Truly, you wished you had considered the implications of your words a little more before you had said them. "Just as I thought your manners had improved since the party. You behaved badly, then. You know that? Very badly," you hiccuped. "You should be ashamed of yourself, throwing– hic–throwing yourself at a married woman like that."

He didn't acknowledge your drunken ramblings, and he also didn't deny the fact that he had been doing exactly that – throwing himself at a married woman.

"Hardly my fault," He breathed out. "I just can't seem to resist you."

"Don't worry," You replied, eyeing him up dubiously as he pulled another hit from what was left of your cigarette. "I'm leaving tomorrow. Won't have to worry about resisting me after that."

"I know," He answered back. "Selfishly enough, I spent the last few hours wishing your train got delayed one more day, or something like that," He exhaled, then snuffed his cigarette out on the balcony, "Still, I'm glad I could see you before you went home."

"I wish I could say the same about you," You replied before you could stop the words from coming out.

He poked his tongue through the inside of his cheek, retorting, "You're gonna sit here and act like you didn't invite me? Like your eyes didn't light up like a child when you saw me pull up?" He turned around, commanding even more of your attention, standing at least a foot and a half taller than you. "You wanted me to come tonight."

It was true. That's the worst part. Everything he said was the truth.

"So that I could say goodbye," You said with remarkable finality, "I'm leaving after this."

You hadn't originally planned on leaving so soon, of course, but you wanted to get the hell out of here before you made another bad decision.

"Already?" He asked.

"You're the one who ran late," You replied. "This ends tonight. I'm going to say bye to everyone else, then I'll be gone."

With that being said, you made your way back to the door. You would go inside, bid everyone farewell, collect your belongings, and then–

He called your name before you could go back inside. You froze in place.

"Am I misreading the signals?" He asked.

You sighed, turning around one last time to clear the air, "This has to stop, Aki. You make me feel like... like I'm guilty of something."

He implored you, "What do you want me to do?"

"Go back to Himeno," You answered, a biting undertone seeping through your words. You were undeniably bitter about the whole situation, and under any other circumstances, you would have tried to be a good sport, but...

Himeno's words were a heavy weight on your heart.

'Don't mess up a relationship with a perfectly good man for Aki.'

'You should leave him for someone who can actually give him what he needs."

You could never be what Aki wanted. He wanted all of you – not just a week of you, clearly. You were married, and you couldn't let all of that go over a guy you'd been toeing the line with for what seemed like ages.

He was a young man. The fact of the matter was that you were a grown woman. A married one.

"She's a sweet, kind woman," You continued. You felt like you were going to be sick just being near him. Unknowingly, tears began to prickle at the corners of your eyes. "Go back and beg her to forgive you. Go be with someone who wants to be with you. Who can be with you."

"No," He answered simply. There was an intensity in his eyes that frightened you, like he would die without you, as he continued, "That's not what you want. I think we both know that. I refused a mission in Hiroshima to stay here with you. I planned to let go of another one in Beijing," He swallowed, "I can change my mind, and you'll never see me again."

"If you have any consideration for me," Your voice was a shuddering whisper, like someone could walk out any minute and hear the two of you going back and forth. "Any semblance– a shrivel of compassion, you'll give me back my peace."

He shook his head, "I can't. You know I can't. You've consumed every inch of my peace, every inch of my mind. How can I give you your peace?"

Fair point.

You had nothing to say to him. So, silently, your vision blurred with tears, you glared at him. Glared and frowned like that would make you believe he was the sole contributor to this issue. Then, again, you turned on your heel and went for the door. You entered the bar quickly.

He followed not too long after you, "I'll go to Beijing, then."

"No." You said. Your teary-eyed fury caught the eyes of more than a few confused bar patrons. "I don't want you to go."

Everyone was looking at you. Seriously, everyone. Your old coworkers, the bartenders, everybody.

You swallowed down your pride, bowing down before them all. "Good night, everyone," You said. You plucked your purse and your jacket off of the barstool. "Thank you for everything. I'm leaving."

Ignoring the confused looks and hushed whispers from the patrons, you exited the bar, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. The rain had started to fall, a soft drizzle quickly turning into a steady downpour. You barely noticed, too wrapped up in the turmoil inside your head. The cold, wet sensation of the rain soaked through your clothes, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. You just needed to get away, to clear your mind.

But of course, Aki followed after you. You could hear him calling your name, his voice barely audible over the sound of the rain. You quickened your pace, almost running, your heels splashing through puddles as you made your way down the block. His footsteps pounded behind you, matching your speed. You couldn't escape him, couldn't outrun him.

Finally, he caught up to you, grabbing your arm to stop you. "Wait, can we please talk?" he pleaded, his voice breathless and desperate.

You turned to face him, rain pouring down around you both. His hair was plastered to his forehead, his suit jacket soaked through. The intensity in his eyes matched the storm, a fierce determination that made your heart ache. You met his gaze begrudgingly, not wanting to deal with this, not wanting to deal with him.

"Have I really been imagining all of this?" He asked. He sounded broken. "Is it really all in my head? Tell me if it's a lie. Tell me to leave you alone. Tell me you mean it—all of it," he paused, taking a shuddering breath. "Or tell me the truth."

You swallowed hard, the weight of the situation crashing down on you. "I don't know how to feel, Aki," you finally admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm trying to be good, but you just keep fucking—popping up everywhere. And you say these pretty things to me, and," You choked back a sob, struggling to find the right words. "I can't help myself around you."

"Running from your problems won't make me go away," he said, stepping forward to put his hands gently on your waist.

There was a long pause as you stood there in the rain, staring at each other. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you. The storm, the bar, everything else was just a blur. You were tired—tired of running, tired of the confusion, tired of pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.

He added, "You can't run from your feelings."

This time, it was his eyes that dropped to your lips. His tongue darted out to dampen his own, and then his eyes flicked up to your face. When he spoke, his voice was huskier than before, as if it had been tainted by an emotion that hadn't been there before. Was it lust? Passion? Whatever it was, you wanted more of it.

Your eyes widened. Your mouth had run dry. You didn't know what to say. Even being like this right now -- as close as you were, -- was against your wedding vows. This was wrong, and you couldn't do that to your own husband.

Your own husband who loved you so dearly.

Your own husband who left you hanging so many nights on end.

Your own husband, who acted as if he couldn't care if you lived or died.

As if he had sensed your train of thought wandering, Aki placed two fingers beneath your chin, lifting your face up until he was the captor of all of your attention. Him and him alone. Not your husband, but him.

"I could treat you like a princess," His eyes wandered down to your lips again, but this time there was an unspoken hunger within them. "All you have to do is ask, and I'm yours. I already am."

And, God, what a fool you had been in uttering the words, "Don't toy with my emotions. You don't want me."

He paused, awaiting something, anything. His eyes pleaded with your own, luring you in with promises of pleasure and happiness. Gently, he grabbed your hand, placing it over his breast, right above his heart.

"I want you so badly it hurts," He breathed, "For a night, for a day, for a week..." Aki closed the gap between the two of you – brought your faces closer together. Closer, until you could feel the warmth of his calm breath fanning out against your cheek. Closer, until he uttered, "As long as you'll let me have you."

"Aki, I can't-...." You paused. Yet, still, you never moved. Your body betrayed your words, dilated pupils and trembling hands giving way to your internal dilemma. "This is wrong. You know I can't do this."

You were being a hypocrite. You knew you were. One spare glance down at the placement of your hands on his chest -- one over his breast and one looped around his tie -- and you knew he could tell you were only putting up a front.

"I know," he murmured softly, words practically dying beneath the volume of the rain, "But I can't stop thinking about you."

You folded. Your eyes dropped down to his lips one last time, and that's when you knew he had already won.

Fuck it.

"Fuck you," you muttered, feeling a surge of reckless abandon.

Without thinking, you reached out and pulled him towards you, crashing your lips against his in a desperate, frenzied kiss. It was messy and wet, your tears mixing with the rain, your hands tangling in his hair as his arms finally wrapped around you.

The kiss was filled with all the pent-up emotions, the longing, the frustration, the desire. It was passion, it was anger – it was tongue and teeth and lips smearing your lipstick over the lower half of your face. It was two black holes finally colliding after circling around each other far too long.

"I can't make sense of it. I want... you," you sighed, pulling away, voice trembling, "I don't know what any of this means anymore. I don't know what to think."

"Then don't," he whispered, his breath warm against your lips. He tasted like cigarette smoke, beer and mint gum – a flavor so utterly addicting that you couldn't seem to get enough of it. "Don't think. Let me take you back to your room."

You hesitated, the reality of the situation hitting you. This was crossing a line, a line you couldn't uncross. But as you looked into his eyes, saw the same turmoil reflected back at you, you felt your resolve crumble.

You were tired of pretending.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rain. It was a final, resigned acceptance, the last nail in the coffin of your restraint.

You were tired of running from the inevitable.

a/n: dont hate me. LMFAOAOAOOAOA. i had to! i absolutely loved writing this chapter and i loved writing tipsy obsessed aki. i headcannon that he's a touchy needy bf and no one can tell me otherwise. i think you all know what happens next. im not sayin nothin tho. hehe. ANYWAYYYYY LMK WHAT YALL THOUGHTTTTT i look forward to hearing it!!! lmk what yall wanna see in the next few chapters/over the course of the story. and if youve already watched anna karenina (or read, in which case... how...) shhhhhh youve seen nothing. muah! x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[hxllo-nana]

Killer using patterns to figure out his way around the castle, is a very Sans way to find ur way out.

It is cute/funny him saying u could just be lazy and get Horror to carry you around to get around instead though.

Ink really blew his top off when Killer mentioned Error. And yeah, if UV is anything to go by, their relationship is also, complicated.

Sometimes when Ink was thinking about, the stuff the other Star Sanses I think, and maybe Error or Cross? in a later part and page (mostly in red and black text) about Ink, were a, doozy to say the least. They weren't saying super nice things about Ink.

Ink calling the Dark Council miserable and "weak" to Killer is mean, lmao.

Both Killer and Nightmare trying to get Ink to join is cool/interesting (though, when Nightmare made his offer to Ink, the pane of Killer when that was happening, almost seemed, not super happy about that? Though, we could only see his mouth, so I am not completely certain on Killer's thoughts at that moment).

Ink does not super happy about that offer and about being tied about Nightmare and kind of thrown under the bus by Killer, because Killer was actually following orders and stuff and "let" Nightmare tie Ink up.

And when I say not happy, I mean, all red eyed and angry-looking.

I wonder why Killer was able to hold the brush for a bit, even though he shouldn't be able to? And Killer said he can't give the brush to Ink, so he needs to come and take it (though, that seems partially because he was trying to get Ink to come closer and/or distract Ink. Killer probably already knew and/or saw Nightmare was there). Idk, it just is curious/interesting to me.

Anyways, I am loving seeing more of the Inkubator's Arc though these comic pages/tape/etc.! It has been really great so far.

I just want to mention a few "critiques" before I stop talking about Inkubator's Arc comic stuff.

Sometimes the red and black text could be hard to see. Esp. if it was on a red BG. Though this only really happened like 1 one time. Even on other pages that had black and red text (even when it was on red BG).

Sometimes when you had text in parenthesis, you mess one of the parenthesis. But this happened very rarely.

Earlier on the comic Tape 25 comic parts, Ink's brush was called a broom, though later on, it was called a brush. So *shrug*.

Anyways, done talking about Inkubators arc stuff. Except to say that I am very excited for more Tape 25 comic parts and stuff and/or more stuff for inkubators-arc (-mov) stuff.

I have more to say, but I am gonna to say that in other Ask(s), because the content will be different (not Inkubators stuff, for the most part, if not completely). So I think it is best to try to separate Ask(s) based on content. 2/2.

SECOND ROUND

“Killer using patterns to figure out his way around the castle, is a very Sans way to find ur way out”

They’re sanses! they’re all about taking shortcuts hehe

“Ink really blew his top off when Killer mentioned Error. And yeah, if UV is anything to go by, their relationship is also, complicated.”

……This multiverse revolves around many other universes.

“in a later part and page (mostly in red and black text) about Ink, were a, doozy to say the least. They weren't saying super nice things about Ink”

…..Hehe!

“Ink calling the Dark Council miserable and "weak" to Killer is mean, lmao”

….Ink is correct in an aspect lol. But still, Ink should take a chill pill.

“the pane of Killer when that was happening, almost seemed, not super happy about that? Though, we could only see his mouth, so I am not completely certain on Killer's thoughts at that moment”

:)

“Ink does not super happy about that offer and about being tied about Nightmare and kind of thrown under the bus by Killer”

Hm, He really doesn’t like the dark council doesn’t he? lol

“I wonder why Killer was able to hold the brush for a bit, even though he shouldn't be able to?”

Jumpscare: That entire “room” they were in wasn’t a room, it was Nightmare’s body. Killer wasn’t holding the brush, Nightmare was, Killer was just leaning onto it to make it seem like he was :) (If you look really close into the background you can see Nightmares’ body dripping)

CRITIQUE: I do ineligible texts on purpose. i don’t know how to convey that what you’re reading…isn’t supposed to be readable.

GOD DAMN I HATE WHEN I MESS UP TEXTS GRRR GRRRRR

broomie, broom, brush, inks boyfriend, sweeper, same thing

[akaashiclub]

girls chase boys ☇ t.k.

☇ pairing: tsukishima kei x fem!reader

☇ genre: fluff, oc is an absolute babie who has no shame, tsukishima goes from ‘she’s annoying’ to ‘she’s aight’ to ‘i may be lowkey in love w her it’s nbd tho’, oc will literally not give up, tsukishima is still a first year (word count: 4.1k)

☇ synopsis: usually when experiencing such a soul-crushing rejection, one would give up on their feelings, right? right?

☇ a/n: i binge-read some haikyuu fanmanga and i was ~inspired~ plus like... this trope?? persistant bubbly x uninterested cold is?? literally everything?? (playlist link: here)

“i like you!!!”

you kind of felt like the main character of a shoujo, with the wind making your hair dance in the air

standing face to face with your longtime crush

(and by longtime, you mean about two months)

that’s when it all started

no— it was earlier

the orientation ceremony

all the first years standing in neat, organized rows, listening to the principal give a welcoming speech

at least, that’s what you were supposed to be doing

in reality, your eyes were trained on the 188cm tall blonde in the row in front of you

you couldn’t see the stage— also, you didn’t care

bc ~he~ was in front of you

tsukishima kei

you learned his name later when you discovered you were in the same class

and he sat in the adjacent row, one seat forward

the absolutely perfect position to stare at his side profile the entire class

and that is exactly what you did for two months

that and gathering info on him

tsukishima kei, 188.3cm (now 190.1), born on september 27th, best friends with yamaguchi tadashi, #11 on the karasuno volleyball team

and then there you were, confessing your undying love to him

...or something like that

“no thanks. not interested.”

usually, that would soul-crushing enough to make them leave him alone

not you <3

the giggle that escapes your lips makes his eyebrow twitch on confusion for a second

“that’s okay~” you respond. 

(that’s okay ?)

(what the fuck kind of response is that being rejected ???)

(yours!!!!)

you’re exhaustingly persistent, as tsukishima comes to find out

or should i say—

“tsukki~!!” 

the hair on his neck rises when you flounce into homeroom with that sing-song tone

you plop down into the seat in front of him (key note: not yours) and rest your elbows on his desk with a little grin

“don’t call me that,” (he doesn’t look up from his book)

“what~! why not?”

“only my friends call me 'tsukki’”

you snort, scooting a little closer

“that’s mean. how many times have we walked home together, and we still aren’t friends?”

“you followed me home, i didn’t consent.”

“‘followed you’?” you pout. “we live on the same road, naturally we’d walk home together,”

he doesn’t respond, just flips to the next page in his book

“do you have volleyball club today~?”

ignored. 

lol

she stays strong!! she doesn’t give up in the face of adversity!!!

“you don’t have to answer, i already know you do.” you chirp. “it’s boring walking home without you... maybe i’ll come with you today~!”

it’s like talking to a wall

(a very cute, 190cm, blonde, glasses-wearing wall.)

(🥰)

instead of responding, he puts his headphones on and keeps reading 

a small exhale escapes your lips, and one of the girls in the next row over leans towards you

“y/n... i think it’s a lost cause...”

“he’ll come around eventually,” you shoot her a smile, and then turn back to tsukki

you lean forward, reaching towards his head and tugging the headphones down around his neck

and when he looks up (he does within an instant), you shoot him a sly smile

several students around you gasp

after all, who would dare bother tsukishima with his headphones on??? that’s some instant death shit

“move.”

“i like being this close to you though,” you tease

and he rolls his eyes, standing up and heading for the exit of the classroom

the shock in the classroom — that you’re still ALIVE — is clear

your friend from before gapes 

“y-y/n what are you playing at??”

“courtship,” you sigh dramatically, and hop to your feet to chase after the blonde monster

“tsukki~!! are you getting lunch?? wait for me~!!”

everyone on the first floor knows: it’s become the norm to see tsukishima, book in hand, headphones around neck, and followed by a chirpy pipsqueak 

even yamaguchi doesn’t stick as closely to him as ‘tsukishima’s lapdog’ (as you’ve started being called by the fellow first years) does

the nickname doesn’t really bother you

after all, it’s just a reminder of your determination and refusal to give up

which is a virtue, in your mind!!

some people feel bad for tsukishima, constantly being bothered by you for weeks on end

others admire your stubbornness

and one group of people you can always count on supporting you are the karasuno volleyball club <3

ever since you started showing up to their practices 

and all their practice matches and official games too

they all befriended you

but you grew tired of just sitting and watching tsukki on the sidelines, so you asked coach ukai if you could help out during practices!!!

there can’t rly be ... three managers... so you suggested retrieving balls or being tsukki’s personal assistant

he saw right through you <3 

but it’s ok bc he thought it would be entertaining and agreed

tsukki: angy

even when he’s annoyed he’s cute tho <33 and you make sure to tell him that <333

and so! you get tsukki’s water, towels, etc etc (ofc u help other ppl too when they need it but tht’s what the two managers r for... tsukki is ur #1)

the other players are like 0.0 she’s kinda scary... but cute at the same time doe... 

one day you’re in a particularly good mood (aka: a bad day for tsukki lol)

“tsukki~!”

“don’t call me that.”

“i want to tell you something,”

the whole gym is kinda just 👁️👄👁️ waiting to see what happens

“what? i need to change, hurry it up.”

ur inner monologue: kdNNN even when he’s mean he’s cute!!!!

but anyways:

“i like you,”

hinata, kageyama, tanaka, noya, literally everyone: 😳😨 mf what—

sugawara’s like “oh god he’s just reject her and crush her heart... right in front of EVERYONE—”

“not interested.” tsukki says, and his tone isn’t any less cold than usual

u kno that anime lightning effect when the character’s body is joLtED...

tht’s everyone else in the gym

tanaka and nishinoya are highkey ready to let you cry into their jerseys when—

you laugh

you right after being mercilessly rejected: 🥰

you can’t help it !!!!! it’s not discouraging you ok??? you alr knew what he’d say!!! but you had to tell him <3 can’t let him forget tht he’s the ✨love of your life✨

entire gym: s h o o k

“did she just  l a u g h??”

“is she okay?? no srsly”

“what... just happened”

tsukki walks off, water bottle in hand

you follow after him, bouncing on the soles of your feet 

“don’t forget your towel~! want me to wipe off your sweat~?”

“no thanks.”

cue fading banter between you two as he goes to change his clothes

he has to be like hOe GeT oUT for you to not go into the locker room lmfao damn... thirsty bitch... same tho

later tanaka and noya (feat. hinata who just wants to be included) jump tsukki

“shE LAUGHED WHEN U REJECTED HER??? IS SHE OK???”

“she confesses to me every week. she’ll do it again. it’s not that big of a deal.”

“not thAT BIG— can u imagine if kiyoko liked us that much.... ”

(cue tanaka sobbing)

tsukki was right tho

after the third time you randomly confessed to him in front of them they were just like

same shit different day, anyways rolling thunder

but they still highkey adopted you

so they go grr grr when tsukki rejects you all cold and shit

shockingly tho??? the more you confess the less it’s “not interested” and more just “*sigh*”

is this... PROGRESS???

but the zero braincell triad cornered him again in the locker room one day 

(it’s their trademark)

(nishinoya) “so why do you keep rejecting her??”

(hinata popping in) “yea she’s super dedicated and helpful!!!”

(tanaka lowkey shuddering) “she’d probably let herself get hit in the face w a volleyball if u asked”

(and tanaka would be: correct)

(but anyway)

“she was annoying,”

“she... ‘was’ annoying???”

“... she IS annoying”

“tsukki... do you possibly like her??? but you’ve gotten so used to rejecting her that it’s automatic now??”

tsukki’s like V.V

“you’re reading too much into it,”

sage!nishinoya is about to probe deeper but at that moment you pop your head around the corner of the locker room and shout

“tSUKKI~!!!”

and they all scatter to hide themselves while shrieking

except tsukki, who is already clothed and gives zero fucks lmao

but anyways!!! a couple weeks pass and takeda got y’all set up with a practice match !!

with who?? nekoma!!!

hinata is like 🤩🤩 kENMA!!

only players and members of the club are supposed to go rly....

but you’re like “??? i’m tsukki’s personal assistant are you trying to take away my rights??? i’ll sue you” and coach ukai gives in sdjfkf

“tsukki can i sit with you~?”

yamaguchi about to sit there: 👁️👄👁️ bruh

tsukki doesn’t say yes but he also doesn’t say no :D

 “what’re you reading?”

“english book,”

you’re like: wait— mf hold up... did he actually just answer ??

tsukki simp mode: ACTIVATED

“can i see??”

“you’re failing english, you won’t be able to read it.”

“ouch,” you pout, but there’s a small smile on your lips. “but how’d you know i was failing english?”

he doesn’t respond

“i guess it is unfair that i know everything about you and you don’t know anything about me...” you sigh

“you don’t know everything about me,” he retorts, still not looking up from his book

hehe~ gotcha

“oh? test me,” you grin, scooting closer to him

“don’t wanna.”

“you’re just scared i do know everything,” you say smugly, trying to bait him

“bet you don’t know everything about me!!!” hinata pops up from the seat in front of you

“you’re right, i don’t,” 

(he pouts and disappears again)

“tsukki~” you whine. “tsukkiiiii~ i’m bored.”

“so?”

“can i wear your headphones?”

“no thanks. i don’t wanna get headlice.”

you scowl. “mean,”

you bite your cheek, staring a hole in the side of his head but he doesn’t even blink

if tsukki could major in ignoring you people, he’d have straight A’s

fortunately, you have ways to counter this

“kei~~” you whisper a little too close to his ear, and he jolts up

you try not to let the amusement show on your face, but you can’t help it

glaring at you, he pulls his headphones off his head and puts them on yours

“now be quiet,”

“mm~” you chuckle

a couple hours later, you pull into the parking lot of nekoma

the friend groups pair off, and kuroo makes a beeline for tsukki, only to catch sight of you

“hey four-eyes— who’s this?”

tsukki glances down at you, to which you shoot him a sugary smile

“dunno,” he says, and walks off

you wave to kuroo with a sunny grin

“i’m y/n~! i’m tsukki’s personal assistant and future wife~”

his eyebrows rise, and with a quick bow, you bounce after the blonde

once the group is all in the gym, practice jerseys are handed out and you help yachi and shimizu prepare the water and towels

you’re about to make a beeline for tsukki, when someone calling your name stops you

“y/n! wanna get me some water?” kuroo calls

you only blink for a moment before hopping to it, darting across the gym

for the rest of the day, kuroo is constantly calling for you—

“y/n! can you wipe the sweat off my neck?”

“hey, y/n, get me some water~”

“y/n!”

“y/n, over here!”

and by the time the several hours is over, you haven’t gotten to speak to tsukki once 🥺 snnff :(

when you finally get a free moment, you look around for him, but he’s nowhere to be found

sad face :(

and then !!!! turns out nekoma paid for bbq for everyone 🤩🤩 cats are so generous

and somehow??? you find yourself surrounded by nekoma players???

“here y/n, want some of my bbq?”

“no, take mine!!!”

“do you want any fruit?? i have some!!”

“you were so helpful today!! how’d you stay so energetic the whole time??”

you flash a smile, ready to charm the shit out of them, when a voice interrupts:

"hey, personal assistant.”

your eyes light up, bc you’d recognize that salty ass voice anywhere!!!

the guys around you part to reveal—

“tsukki!!!” you squeal, maybe a little too excitedly

“aren’t you supposed to be assisting me?? get me some food.”

you shove your plate into the free hand of one of the nekoma players (his name was... liam? lief... lev?) and dart to get tsukki something to eat

when you hand it to him, you flash him your most dazzling smile

“eat up! you worked hard today~”

he eyes you silently before digging in, and you smile absentmindedly while watching him

“why are you staring at me like that?”

“because i like you,” you respond without hesitation

he averts his eyes, but doesn’t say anything mean 

your stomach flips a little 

i’m coming for you, tsukishima kei.

on the ride home, you’re once again sitting next to him, and he gives up his headphones without a fight this time

you’re so tired from running around helping kuroo all day that you find your eyelids getting heavy as tsukki’s music plays in your ears

you try to subtly lean on his shoulder but he pokes you away 

you glare at him, pouting, but settle for leaning against the headrest

and then, you’re drifting off

..

and you’re having a strange dream

a pleasant dream, with fuzzy corners and honey-colored light streaming across the scene, but still strange

in this dream, he’s kissing you

it’s not like you haven’t had dreams like this before, it’s just that this one feels so much more vivid

and yet blurry at the same time

even when the dream ends and you blink back into consciousness you can still distinctly feel his lips against yours

his glasses brushing against your cheek

his fingers interlacing with your hair

a warm smile curls up your lips as you grasp lingering wisps of the dream, when—

“you’re drooling.”

your eyes snap open and you jolt up, furiously wiping the side of your mouth

“am not!!”

tsukishima blinks uninterestedly from the empty bus aisle, arms crossed

“dreaming about something vulgar?”

you grin, resting your chin on your palm

“would you like to hear ab—?”

he’s just “nope,” and turns towards the exit

hopping out of the seat, you follow him

“it was such a nice dream,” you sigh

“must’ve been, if you were drooling that much.”

“i was not—”

and then you notice something

everyone else is already gone from the bus

“wait a minute... did you wait for me?”

you hear a scoff

bUt hE dOEsNt DeNy iT

“you WAITED for me!!!!” you exclaim, happiness radiating off you in waves

“if i’d left you on the bus, nishinoya and tanaka would’ve killed me if i didn’t,” he says curtly

but you are, after all, the human equivalent of ‘this sign can’t stop me because i can’t read’

or that tiktok trend 

tsukishima: i don’t like you, i only waited for you because i was literally forced at gunpoint 

y/n: 🎶i waited for you🎶

the next day, it’s practice as usual at the karasuno gym

but?? sniff sniff someone is here that shouldn’t be

this rando first year has been pacing around right outside the gym entrance

and all the vbc members are like 👁️ whomst?

and when you finally arrive (right along behind tsukki)

he yells out your name

and holds out a bouquet of flowers <3 how cute

“y/n, um— i, i know you don’t know me but i’ve liked you since the orientation ceremony!!! i think you’re really pretty and cute and smart—”

cue a quiet scoff from tsukki, “if she’s his definition of smart, then how dumb is he?”

cue sugawara jabbing his side (sugamama is protective of his child y/n)   

“—and i know you like tsukishima, but i hope you’ll give me a chance!! i can make you happier than him!!”

at this point, everyone in the gym is watching like 👁️ oh?? TEA?? 

and is that... is that an aura of raging irritation coming from tsukishima?? 

you open your mouth to politely reject the guy, when

literally out of nowhere tsukki just  a p p e a r s

“hey, idiot. aren’t you supposed to be my personal assistant?? go set out the volleyballs instead of flirting,”

you dip your head and smile apologetically at the guy before heading towards the store room

and after that, you notice tsukki is a bit harsher, a bit more off his game, a little more easily irritated than usual

during a free moment, you nudge tanaka

“doesn’t he seem like he’s in a bad mood??”

zero braincell tanaka is like “??? isn’t he always like that??”

“no... something is definitely off today...”

what . could it be . i wonder .

every time you try to do your usual “tsukki~!!” he just turns away and ignores you

doesn’t sound too out of the ordinary, but you can just tell something is wrong

you still have no idea why he’s acting like this by the time practice ends

and when you go to the locker room to find him (so y’all can walk home together), he’s already gone :(

so, a little more droopy than usual, you head out

only to be surprised by a voice when you step outside

“took you long enough,”

you whip around to see tsukki leaning against the wall with crossed arms

he clicks his tongue and then sets off

and when you don’t immediately follow him, he glances over his shoulder

“are you coming or not?”

sdjfksjsdkjfsdjf smmpdfhsdf !!!!!!!

it’s just one sentence, and it doesn’t really mean anything

but hearing the words makes something incredibly warm bloom in your chest

you grin

“of course i am,”

that feeling lasts well into the next morning, but is replaced by a nauseating knot in your stomach when you arrive at school

because everyone’s whispering about one thing:

“tsukishima got called to the principal’s office!!!”

“whaaat ! why??”

“i heard he was caught with the answers for the upcoming exam!!”

your stomach . clenches

and before anybody can say another word, you’re sweeping out the door and down the hall

and in less than 30 seconds, you’re slamming open the door to the principal’s office

the principal and tsukki both look up, equally shocked at your sudden appearance

“y/n, what—”

you ignore him for the first time in your life

“sir, i need to tell you something.”

the principal is just like “... ?? can it wait??”

“no, it can’t.” you take several steps forward “the test answers, they—”

“y/n, don’t—”

you ignore him for the second time in your life again

“they’re mine,”

the principal blinks 

“then why was tsukishima found holding them before class??”

“yesterday, they must’ve fallen out of my backpack. he probably picked them up without knowing what they were, so please don’t punish him,” you bow. “punish me instead,”

.. y/n dumb bitch

yea, you’re suspended for two weeks

and ofc there’ll be a mark on your record

plus you’re automatically given a fail for the upcoming exam so you’ll have to retake it later oof....

but as much as all that sucks, you don’t regret it bc you’d rather take the fall than let tsukki be wrongly accused and suffer for it

but honestly the break from school is kinda vibes 🥴

don’t even think about the homework you’ll have to make up

your phone is blowing up with texts from your friends

including your surrogate dads and moms from the karasuno vbc 🤧 they’re so worried about you

you’re sad you have to miss practice for such a long time but... you don’t regret your decision

“y/n!!” your little sister knocks on your door “one of your classmates is here for you,”

“‘kay!!” you call back, checking the time

shidt bitch time flies when you’re watching anime alone in your bedroom

you hop up and open your bedroom door to come face to face with the one. the only. tsukishima kei

your eyes are like O.O 

“tsukki??? what are you doing here??” you grin “are you here because you’re worr—”

“no,” he cuts you off “i’m here to deliver your homework,”

“you could’ve given it to my sister, y’know,” you tease. “why’d you come all the way to my bedroom?? you missed me, hm?”

he doesn’t answer, instead surveying the room before sitting down on the edge of your bed

you blink, surprised he didn’t comeback with a cold retort

“tsukki?” you ask quietly, sliding into your desk chair

after a moment of silence, he fixes you with a stoic gaze

“why’d you lie?”

“because... because i couldn’t let you take the blame for that. i don’t know what happened, but i know you weren’t cheating. i know it.”

“neither were you. what’s the difference?”

you press your lips together in a frustrated pout

“the difference is that it’s you!!! i’m mediocre. i’m not outstanding. i’ll go to an average college either way, and it’ll be fine. but you..! you’re so smart!! and talented!!! you could do anything you want!!! you could get into an elite college!! the last thing you need is for some stupid misunderstanding to sully your transcript—”

“y/n—” he tries to cut in, but you bulldoze right over him

“— and i know you probably think what i did was useless and unhelpful, but i don’t care!!! i don’t care about a mark on my transcript, or being suspended, or failing all my exams, or even being expelled—”

“y/n—”

“— but i absolutely refuse to let that happen to you!! you’re too special for—”

this time, it’s not him speaking that interrupts you

this time, it’s him kissing you

you nearly combust on the spot

tsukki— tsukishima kei is kissing you

he’s leaning over you, with one hand on the chair’s armrest and the other steadying your head with his fingertips

your stomach does several full somersaults 

and then, all too quickly, he pulls away and returns to his spot on your bed

you stare, eyes wide as saucers, mouth slightly agape

“w— what was— why did—”

“you wouldn’t stop talking,” he mutters, eyes focused a little too hard on the wall

for a moment, you’re too shocked to move

and then your 🥰tsukki🥰 mode activates

and you just fuckin LUNGE at him

“y/n??? what—!”

kisses!!! kisses on his cheeks!! his nose!!! his forehead!!!

and shockingly he doesn’t?? push you off??

me heart just skipped a beat wjdkfjs

he’s just like “y/n, you’re fogging up my glasses, please stop,”

“i refuse!!!! i’ve been waiting months to do this!!!!!”

once he manages to de-suction you from him, you fix him with doe eyes and a cheeky grin

“hey, tsukki??”

“.. what?”

“i like you,”

he blinks

adjusts his glasses

“make sure to finish that homework. i’m bringing tomorrow’s homework too,”

as he’s leaving, you hope he can feel your glowing smile on his back

the next day, you get a message from the school letting you know that your suspension and other punishments have been retracted

as the real culprit of the cheating was found

an unannounced locker-search discovered several exam cheatsheets almost exactly like the one tsukki found in the locker of a student, and the school realized their mistake <3 how nice of them

and that meant you were free to return to school, name cleared!!!

the volleyball club was eagerly awaiting your return

so when they saw tsukki arrive for practice, they expected you’d be following right along behind him

but instead???

you were koala-ing on his abdomen

“bro... did you carry her all the way here like that??”

“the real question is why he allowed it,”

you shoot a blinding grin at the guys 

“he can at least do this much for his girlfriend~!”

the entire gym is like WhA T !!!!! 

“hE SAID YES???”

“nope,”

“he... asked you out?? then??”

“also no...” 

“did he at least tell you he liked you...?”

“...”

“NISHINOYA STOP SHE’S TEARING UP,” sugamama to the rescue

you let go of tsukki and half the team goes IN on him

“dude wtf!!! she got suspended for you and you didn’t even at least tell her you like her???”

“not just suspended, almost expelled!!!”

“yeah that!!!”

“i say we kill tsukki,”

“tanaka no,”

“GUYS!!” angry!daichi makes an appearance “it’s time for practice!!!”

grumbling, the team disperses

you’re about to head to the store room to help get out the practice equipment, when—

“y/n.”

you turn “hm?”

he’s silent for a moment

“i wouldn’t have kissed you if i didn’t like you.”

your face flushes a deep red

but then he adds, “either time.”

either...? time...?

W A I T

your eyes POP OUT

“that— that wasn’t a DREAM???”

he doesn’t answer, just heads onto the court

but you think you see a slight smirk

and maybe... just maybe?? 

his ears are a little more red than usual.

[hetacon]

Prom Queen: Chapter 4

First || Previous || Next

______________________________

Word Count: 1,800

Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point

Warning: Swearing, small food mention, let me know if there’s anything I missed!

______________________________

Summary: “Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

(Make sure to read all the way to the end if you want my thoughts so far! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, my art, or writing! Enjoy the chapter!)

______________________________

Virgil started to spend more time with the popular kids after they got back to school, something he never thought would be happening. They were gossipy and didn’t really appeal to Virgil as overall people but Roman was their friend so he started to get to know them for the sake of his best friend. He didn’t even really know them honestly, they almost never talked about themselves or their interests or anything in terms of personal information, the conversations almost consistently focused on the drama going around the school that day. There was something new every time they went over. For a solid month, he and Roman would go chat for a minute or two before going off to find Patton and Logan.

That was actually what they were just doing that day when one of Roman’s friends got Virgil’s attention.

“Hey Virgil, tell us about yourself, yeah?” one of the girls asked, the guy she was just talking with fixing his gaze on to Virgil too.

Virgil looked over to Madison if he remembered correctly, trying to hide most of his shock at the fact that she even addressed him. Not many of Roman’s friends acknowledged him much when they would go over but Virgil guessed they’d taken some interest in him. He had been coming over with Roman for quite a good while now, it figures they’d notice his presence at some point. He had to respond quick though, this chance couldn’t go to waste. “Uh, ok, what do you want to know?”

“What kind of music do you listen to?” Well, an odd question to start off with.

Virgil shrugged a bit. “Eh, just what everyone else listens to, you know? Not really anything in particular. It’s not like I really look for songs to listen to by anyone specific.”

Roman nudged him with a snort. “Since when has this ever been the case? If there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you’re emo through and through,” he said, a certain fondness to his look. Virgil bumped his shoulder with a laugh back, fixing him with a playful glare.

“And what if I can like things that you don’t expect of me, huh?” Virgil asked with a slight tease. Roman simply raised an eyebrow but shrugged, letting the argument go without much more of a struggle. Roman wasn’t wrong though, he still listened to everything that he had before, none of it had changed despite what he said. Definitely none of what people usually listened to. He was never one to follow trends with music or otherwise and Roman unfortunately knew that.

“Do you do anything interesting?” one of the people joining the conversation asked.

“Things here and there, not exactly much. School is a drag, takes up way too much of my time to actually let me focus on anything even remotely interesting,” Virgil said calmly, trying to look casual. He hoped it was working, he felt like a nervous wreck. With a few laughs and a “Fuck yeah it is!” he mustered up the courage to add in, “I draw if that counts for anything.”

“Oh yeah? Mind if we take a look?”

Virgil nodded and rummaged through his bag, finding a leather bound book. This one happened to be his more serious one, he had another that was far more personal stashed away. Only Roman, Patton, and Logan ever saw that one, and not even in its full entirety. The personal one had gotten a lot more use than the one currently in his hands. Virgil slid the book over the table and he watched as it was opened to a page of really messy scribbles in the shape of a distraught person’s face. He’d remembered drawing that one, he was in the middle of history sophomore year having a panic attack but was too nervous to ask to step outside.

“Woah, this is cool man,” Tyler said as he looked over it, others nodding in agreement. They proceeded to flip through the pages for a bit while they took turns asking him more questions.

With so much talk, Virgil noticed Roman jump up suddenly, tugging at Virgil’s sleeve frantically. “Pat and Specs!” he explained before packing up his things frantically. “So sorry guys, I need to talk to them before we have to go to class! I’ll catch up with you tomorrow!” he shouted out as he started speed walking, Virgil in tow. Virgil barely managed to collect up his stuff before he was at Roman’s side, seeing the slightest crease between Roman’s eyebrows. As relieved as Virgil was to be away from all of the questions and potential judgement, he noticed Roman was in a big rush. He couldn’t really place why.

“Hey, you uh.. You ok? What’s up?” Virgil asked, relieved as Roman slowed down a little as they turned a corner.

“I just want to get to Pat and Specs, they’re our friends you know?” Roman asked with a bit of an edge before sighing. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect you to uh.. Hit it off so much with them, I usually just say a quick hello really,” he explained.

“Really? You think so?” Virgil really hoped he was impressing the popular kids, they were Roman’s friends after all. If he was having luck with them, he wasn’t going to lose Roman that easily. He couldn’t possibly do that, not when he’d already put so much at risk.

“Yeah but anyone who doesn’t like you how you are is insane,” Roman said lowly. Virgil thought he saw Roman’s jaw clench for a second but he quickly looked ahead of them as Roman glanced over.

Virgil was tackled in a hug by Patton, causing him to smile as he hugged back. He didn’t smile for long though as the bell rang, causing Roman to sigh. He looked over, laughing a little awkwardly. “Ha, sorry Ro, didn’t mean to make us so late.”

Roman shrugged. “It’s ok, just means we’ll have to get here as soon as possible tomorrow!” With that, he and Logan started to talk as they headed to class together.

Virgil watched as Roman walked away from him and Patton and he frowned slightly before Patton was nudging his shoulder and nodding his head to the direction of their classes.

Virgil nodded back and started walking, burying his hands deep into his pockets. He really wished he had his usual hoodie to pull over his head and hide from the world. His bangs would have to do, giving him a good look at the sickeningly sweet pink he’d decided on a month prior. Who let him do that again?

“Hey, you ok?” Patton asked, silently offering Virgil a cookie. Snickerdoodle today, Virgil would’ve usually loved it.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Virgil told him. “I’m not hungry, thanks though.”

Patton looked at him with a worried look for a second before sighing, taking a bite of the cookie himself. “Alright Virge, if you say so. Who knows, maybe some rest is all you need, make sure you go easy on yourself!”

Virgil agreed, looking ahead of them.

He went home that day and went through the motions in a haze, glad when he finally got out of his disgustingly bright outfit. He stared blankly at the wall when he got a text from Roman.

“Hey, sorry I was so tense where we left things off.. I promise you didn’t do anything, that was all me.”

“What was up with that?” Virgil texted back.

Roman’s response took a minute before it popped up on Virgil’s screen. “I don’t know, I just didn’t expect them to really take such an interest in you. They can be a bit... Stuffy. Like, all the time, I much prefer hanging out with you, Pat, and Specs.”

“I mean, they’re your friends right? They asked me questions, I answered.”

“Yeah, that’s true. Some of your answers surprised me though lol, you are truly a dark and stormy knight after all!”

“Hey, I’m allowed to expand my tastes, aren’t I? You got me into some of your dumb musicals after all.”

“They are not dumb, take that back you jerk!”

Virgil snorted, hugging his pillow to his chest as he typed out another message. “Oh yeah? Make me, you pompous thespian drama queen.”

“I just might!”

Before Virgil could respond, Roman shot him a quick text reading “Shit, GTG, I need to run a few scenes before I sleep! Until tomorrow~!”

“Go chase your dreams of ‘professional make believe’ as Logan would say, night.”

As an afterthought, Virgil tacked on a red heart before blushing harshly, cursing into his hands. He really did that, no taking that one back now was there?

Either way, check in time. Roman was still his friend, they just had a normal conversation like two human beings ought to be able to have. While he seemed a little off-put by some of the changes Virgil was talking about, he didn’t seem to take it as a serious offense so a plus there. The clothes were horrible, Virgil still hated his hair, but he was doing this for Roman so he’d suck it up. Roman’s friends were starting to like him, they liked his art so that was good. Luckily they latched on to something he couldn’t lie about.

Just as Virgil was about to go to bed, another notification popped up on his phone, this time from an unknown number. Virgil stared at it for moment, his brow furrowed. He opened it though and read it.

“Hey Virgil, this is Madison! Got ur number from Roman’s phone lol, hope u don’t mind sweetie!”

Well, he kind of did mind but putting that aside-

“Hi, did you need anything?”

“Not rn but I might! Just wanted to have ur number just in case. Anyways, I’m going to bed, see u tomorrow!”

Virgil nodded to himself before he got one more text.

“BTW loveeeee ur artwork, keep up the good work bby!”

This was certainly... Bizarre. He didn’t expect to ever have the number of a popular girl in his phone but he never knew high school would be this insane. He’d survive this though, for Roman if nothing else. And if not, he just might lose Roman forever and never be able to forget about it for as long as he lives! Ok, breathe Virgil, breathe...

Things would work out, Virgil was going to make sure they did or die trying. Nobody, Roman included, could think to stop him now.

______________________________

More Prom Queen content huh? Anyways hey hey hey guys! How’d you like the newest chapter?

To be honest, I’m not sure how to feel about this one. I feel like all of my writings sound like they’re in an echo chamber. Like as if the events are completely isolated and don’t fit into an expansive narrative and existence. I have no idea if that makes a bit of sense, it might just be my depression tbh? It’s been kicking my butt more than usual.

But Virgil is finally getting noticed by the popular kids, woohoo! This obviously can’t go wrong! We shall see what Virgil will be getting up to with time!

As always, feel free to leave comments or send me asks and whatnot if you want to talk with me about the story! I’d love to hear from you guys!

______________________________

Taglist: @artissijules, @virgils-paranoia, @its-the-cat-queen, @myyoutubecorner, @marshmallow-the-panda, @anotheregofanficblog, @tssidesfamily, @shapa-likes-art, @isabelle-stars, @falsemood, @katlikethesword

[calpalsworld]

Not "autistic anon," but also autistic, (being called maybe ableist made me want to put this out there before go to bed) i thought Zane was depicted that way purposefully by the writers. He has stereotypical traits like taking things literally, and has an actual humor switch. The writers have done things with Zane before like have him lose bodily autonomy (during that one Wu's teas short) and did something with his voice be it making him unable to be understood or talking too loud and the forced pirate voice by Jay. (what you're doing isn't too different from that, right?) I thought it was just a little iffy to distort his body and memory bc that could be interpreted as something not that I'm sure what exactly, it's some kind of disability. I dunno. I'm not good with putting this to words. I hope this makes sense.

Sorry I went to bed but now I’m awake 😭

Also I ended up totally spilling all my thoughts here rather than only specifically replying to you please forgive me context: my scary zane concept design, & my ninjago rewrite i refer to a lot 

Im a little confused but I think I get what you're saying? You're saying the Ninjago writers absolutely DON'T write Zane well (you listed examples of this) and you don't want me to fall into the same trap?

I had the opposite logic earlier. I thought: If Ninjago writers made Zane have stereotypical autisitic traits while also being a dehumanized robot, I may as well embrace it, say he is autistic blatantly, while also making him do funny/cool non-human robot things, so its clear as possible the two aspects of his character are literal and separate and not a metaphor for each other. But you're right! I do have a choice and I dont have to embrace things! :)

Like there were a couple ways I was gonna reject the original, for example, I never wanted Zane to have a funny switch, and I hated how other characters could fuck with Zane and he didn't even care 😬. I want to change that stuff. So youre right, if I am changing shit like that, it would be counterproductive for ME to GIVE him MORE traits along that theme. 😬😬😬 I should try to feel less obligated to portray Zane like he originally is. I still like the concept of "scary zane" (for reasons i explain below the cut) but I might tone it down a bit like with the claws and weird proportions and shit. I’d def make him look more skeletal and undead. That was my original intention, but i didnt execute it as good as I could have.... idk if anyone could tell thats what he was supposed to be like...my bad! But rn I dont wanna redesign him I wanna draw other stuff like normal alive Zane. Sorry LMAO 😳. Like I said in some earlier asks I think, I think Im gonna focus rn on how I should portray season 1 normal not dead Zane so thank you and feel free to share any other Zane thoughts ^_^ SOME OTHER THOUGHTS:

Also I Wanna Argue Some Stuff But I Understand its a Weak Argument Since All of This Context was Just In My Brain (so don't take this as an argument, just as me rambling): I don't want messed up things to happen to Zane and for it to just be ignored. I think if Zane is going to have fucked up things happen to him, as all characters must, its best for it to happen during a season where he actually addresses his feelings about being a robot (learning to accept that he will always be himself, regardless if hes "human" or the "original" or whatever. (thats how I always interpreted his emotions)). But I wouldn't have the other Ninja be very phased by Zane's looks because the whole point is they already love who he is (seasons 1-3 were about getting to know Zane) and now Zane himself just has to learn the physical, robot part of him is okay. Its about person-hood rather than humanity. Because the season focuses around Zane's soul, and because he lost his original body, I feel like I could mess around with his current, temporary body and have fun and make it scary. Because that body should be irrelevant. I understand it possibly being upsetting for an autistic character to be designed like this, but other people I talked to see it the opposite way. They find it comforting for him to look so different but still be himself and be so loved. SO IM ABSOLUTELY NOT saying its wrong to be bothered or to hate it or to feel any way. Just that I personally think it would be cool for Zane to be portrayed with a little spice lol, so thats why I like scary Zane for season 4.

Another Thing I Wannna Say But Is REALLY Hypocritical: (this isnt directed at anyone I just REALLY want to say this) I know I say "this is Zane but scary, he looks like fnaf" so he's obviously dehumanized, but I always felt like "scary" is more of an objective fact. Its an instinct. But what's "not human" is subjective. I think there is a problem with saying anything different from "average" human is dehumanized because that could extend to real people. Lol I know its bad for me to compare FNAF-ass Zane to real people, but I mean he could be real. People can have exposed teeth, and people can be shaped weird. And when someone first sees a person who looks like that they'll probably think "woah those features are scary" by instinct. And that surprise doesn't make someone ableist obviously. But bring that person’s humanity into question is NOT an instinct, and is fucked to shit. This is kinda a bad point for me to make since its about the fictional FNAF Zane I drew, and I am NOT implying ANYONE was thinking like this. [especially not the original asker anon who I am totally forgetting about at this point OOPS]. But I just thought it was an opinion of mine I couldn't go without mentioning when talking about dehumanization and disabilities.

^^^ I think you (anon) understand what I mean and might’ve said the exact same thing as me if you were writing a long ass response? I think this because you started to bring physical disabilities up and you said it was "a little iffy." ^_^ So we agree, but I don't see Zane's relation to real life disabilities as "a little iffy" I see it more like "complicated"? IF THAT DIFFERENCE EVEN MAKES ANY SENSE?????? I feel like a lot of things about Zane are really just complicated and need the right context, rather than the concepts necessarily being wrong -- NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT! THATS THE WHOLE REASON I DO THIS STUPID REWRITE! XD thats why a lot of my rewrite SO FAR has been the same concepts and plot beats, but different dialogue n specifics and such. I like a lot of concepts in Ninjago but I dont think they were presented correctly.....! :( So I guess all we can do is wait and see if I make Zane offensive or not....???

Also something about the memory part - yeah i agree i was surprised no one thought that was weird to make jokes out of his memory issues..... BUT I am like 100% firm on making his memory take longer to come back because I think its stupid how quick Zane was able to recover from literally dying. Like its just dumb to me. Hate it. (also bc memory & soul mechanics is ummm kinda important in my rewrite.... for reasons). Another memory thing btw, I was going to make his original amnesia come from hitting his head in an attack against the Skulkin when they stole his dads corpse, rather than his dad fucking choosing to make him forget. (its a sweet & iconic scene, but Um, WHY?!!!?!?!?!?) He has to follow data recovery instructions he finds in his dads diary. I think in that context it makes moments of memory loss somewhat different for Zane's character? Instead of loss of autonomy associated with disability, its a literal violent loss of autonomy associated with being traumatized by physical force. Idk how to phrase it exactly but I think that makes some vibes different?

Sorry, I think I got really distracted, and I don't know if I responded well to your points. Because uhhhh I think I agree with your stance actually? If I understand correctly? Fuck Ninjago writers for making the robot lose autonomy (a stereotypical robot theme) while also making him seem clearly autistic (NOT A HAPPY THEME FOR AUTISTIC PEOPLE) and not addressing it. And also auuugh Zane with a weird body is a difficult topic - kinda sussy pretty iffy.

Lol anyway idk if this made any sense and I REALLY rambled on you. but this was nice ���👈 more Zane criticism pls love you and i love zane. i hope u dont feel mad at me because then it would be weird that im saying that lol. if you do feel mad at me tho you can send another ask (ILL TRY TO JUST LISTEN NOT RAMBLE NEXT TIME) but assuming ur chill rn, love you thnx

Take this page, don’t mind cole’s ass.

[thalergetic]

I loved ur Spiderman au i was hoping if u could do another one. No pressure tho

ask..... and you shall receive

(link to part one)

Wind whipped by Adora as she swung her way through Manhattan. She was sure her grin would be visible even though the mask, and Catra’s voice crackling over the comms unit in her ear — which, at the moment, was a souped-up version of a Bluetooth headset — only made it widen.

“Alright, take a left here,” Catra said. There was a rustling in Adora’s ear as she flipped the pages of what sounded like a map. “And then a right two blocks down.”

“You know,” Adora started, sending a web across the street with a thwip, “if I end up at the wrong location again, it’s gonna be really embarrassing for me.”

Catra huffed, setting down the map. Adora could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “It’s not the wrong location. That was one time.”

It had been a few months of this new arrangement, and honestly, Adora had never been more comfortable in her superhero life.

Having Catra on the line was... new. It was nice, in a way— it meant Adora could worry less about finding the grocery store being robbed and more about taking care of the robbers.

The cops still didn’t like her, but that wasn’t a surprise. Catra was helping her with that, too. She’d been able to fix Adora’s suit, help her design a better one, and overlay a police scanner frequency.

In other words, she was the reason Adora had stayed alive for as long as she had.

Catra knew basic first aid, as she’d told Adora once after a particularly grueling hostage scenario that she’d taken a class after finding out her secret.

As soon as Adora made it to the site of the robbery, she got the feeling she’d probably need it.

There were many reasons for this. One, there were several of them and one of her, and she’d never been very optimistic. Two, she was still in recovery from three weeks of injuries, and between stopping crimes and studying for her finals, she was spread pretty thin.

Three, they had guns. Big guns.

Adora released the web she’d been swinging on with another thwip, and landed gracefully on a nearby lamppost. She dropped into an easy squat, eyes flicking around the scene ahead.

“Alright,” She said, squinting a little. “So I’m seeing four— no, five guys. Three are armed.”

“And the other two?” Catra asked. There was a thin vein of concern in her voice.

It almost made Adora smile. It was sweet: Catra always got nervous when she was about to fight people. “The other two aren’t gonna be a problem.”

“That’s what you said during the last robbery,” Catra said, trying very hard not to let her worry show. “I almost had to call an ambulance.”

It was an exaggeration, but... not by much. Adora hadn’t quite gotten out of the way of a knife, and was still healing a nasty scar on her lower abdomen.

Adora winced at the memory, pressing her fingertips to it. “Well, it won’t happen tonight.”

Catra was quiet for a second. “Cops are on their way already, Spidey. I... I dunno. I have a bad feeling about this one.” She sighed. “Look, don’t get yourself killed. Alright?”

“Who, me?” Adora asked, standing up. “Never.”

If Catra responded, Adora didn’t hear it as she leapt off the lamppost. In an almost graceful move she’d been practicing for years, she landed feet-first on the back of the nearest robber.

For obvious reasons, it took him by surprise. He was knocked flat under her. She fired two webs in quick succession, pinning both him and his gun to the concrete.

Adora couldn’t resist a little quip. It was kind of her thing, after all. “Oh, sorry,” She said, dusting gloved hands off. “Hate to break it to you, but Mom said it’s my turn with the gun.”

The action seemed to get the attention of the other two (unarmed) goons. Adora thought idly that they really should’ve known better by now. She’d been Spider-Man for almost five years now, after all.

“Guys, come on,” She said, dodging a poorly-timed punch easily and countering with one of her own. “Taking on a superhero unarmed? Really? I mean, you could’ve at least brought a knife. I’m—I’m hurt. Really, I am.”

She made short work of them, and had them lying flat and webbed to the ground moments later. When the click of a pistol sounded behind her, Adora let out a sigh. “Really? Already?”

She turned to see the remaining two men pointing their guns at her.

“Easy, fellas,” Adora said, eyes lingering on the barrel of the shotgun trained on her. “Put those down. We can talk this out—”

“You think we’re that stupid?” The one holding the shotgun interrupted. He shook his head. “No stalling. We know the cops are already on their way.”

They weren’t holding any jewelry, Adora realized. She put her hands up slowly, frowning under her mask. “You guys are pretty terrible robbers,” She said carefully. “Kind of counterintuitive to break into a jewelry store and not steal anything.”

“I’m sure it would be,” Pistol Guy said, lips curling into a sneer, “if that was the reason we did it.”

Adora swallowed. “Well, don’t leave me hanging,” She said, eyes flicking between the two of them. There was a gnawing ache of dread welling up in the pit of her stomach. “What was the reason?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Shotgun said. “Gettin’ rid of you.” He raised the barrel up again. “Kingpin sends his regards.”

Catra’s voice crackled suddenly over the comms unit. “Shit, fuck— Adora, get out of there—”

Whatever she said next was muffled by the sound of a gunshot.

Adora tried as best as she could to duck under it, but even she wasn’t quite fast enough to dodge.

The force of a bullet lodging firmly in her stomach sent her staggering back until she nearly tripped over the prone body of one of the other men she’d taken out.

Her blood was pounding in her ears, and even though Adora was faintly aware of Catra yelling high and terrified through her comms, all she could focus on was the blood.

For a second, she was just grateful the suit was red.

She didn’t wait for the second gunman to shoot before she sent up a web and tried her best to swing away.

Moments later, she found herself collapsing in the alleyway across from her apartment building.

Adora finally allowed herself to focus Catra desperately calling her name over the comms unit. “Adora? Adora, please come in, I—”

“I’m here,” Adora rasped. She coughed, feeling blood come up in her mouth, and lifted up to take off her mask before she spat it out onto the concrete. “Jus’ resting. I tried to get as close as I could to the apartment.”

“Are you hurt? A-Are you injured at all?”

Adora looked down at the tears in her suit. “Uh... yeah. I-I didn’t dodge that one.”

“Fuck,” Catra breathed. “I-I have your location. I’m on my way. Just— fuck, Adora, keep pressure on it. Don’t you dare leave me.”

“Ha,” Adora laughed weakly. She winced as she put a gentle pressure on her abdomen. “You care about me.”

She heard Catra let out a wet, half-sob of a laugh. “Idiot. Of course I do. You—” Catra cut herself off. “I’ll tell you when I get there.”

“That sounds nice,” Adora said, blinking away the sleep at the corners of her vision. “I like your voice.”

There was movement on Catra’s end, followed by the sound of wind rushing as she ran. Seconds later, she slid to a stop at one end of the alley, and nearly dropped her phone at the sight of Adora slumped against the wall.

“Hi,” Adora said. She lifted a trembling hand to wave.

Catra’s expression shifted between horror, fear, and nausea. “Stay still,” She said, voice trembling. “You’re gonna be okay. Glimmer is a med student, right? You told me once that she—she lives in the apartment across from you.”

Adora found it hard to speak through the blood in her mouth, and gave a weak nod.

“I’m calling her,” Catra said, already typing a number furiously into her phone. She could tell Adora was starting to lose consciousness.

Catra put a hand on her cheek, trying to shake her back awake. “Adora? Adora, listen to me,” She said frantically, shaking harder. “Hey. Stay with me until Glimmer gets here.”

“Hey, I really like you,” Adora slurred. “Jus’ saying. If I don’t get a chance to tell you later, I want you to know—”

“If you do tell me later, I’ll let you kiss me.” Catra’s eyes were red from crying, and she gave her best attempt at a watery smile. “Because I really like you too. So stay with me,” She pleaded, barely above a whisper. “Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Adora said, wincing as she shifted to sit up straighter against the brick. “Yeah. I’ll stay.”

[jjobxx]

-- Never Letting Go;

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Words count: 1,637

Request:  could u write something abt cuddling w jj? like him laying on ur chest and u wrapping ur arms around him and being super cute and cuddly

Warnings: None I believe, just fluffy!

A/N: Somehow I always write the reader as being soft but that’s literally my favorite trope. :’) Anyways, I hope this is to your liking - if not, I would be happy to try again! I did not proof so any errors are my mistake! This mentions the movie Me Before You (no spoilers though) so if you haven’t seen it and need something to pull at your heart strings, this movie is for you (I literally bawl like a baby every time I watch it).

-- People had always wondered how someone so timid, so nice, could be a Pogue, or even spend her time with such delinquents, as they liked to call them. Most had a strong personality but yours was rather soft. You contrasted greatly with the sorts of people on the island but that didn't make it any less your home than others.

Despite you and JJ both being Pogues, and the silly rule of ‘no pogue on pogue macking’, you and JJ were the exception to the rule. It took JJ longer than the others to realize you were a good influence on him but it was Pope that first spoke up about how much different JJ was when you were around the group. It was also Pope that was the first one to realize how much JJ admired you, as he would often have that same look of admiration in eyes whenever he’d look at Kie.

He’d often joke around with John B on how lovesick JJ was, and that’s how you had found out about JJ liking you as more than just a friend. You had heard Pope and John B talking about it by accident one day and it took you four days to confess to JJ what you had overheard, your own nerves getting the best of you every time you tried before then. It was an awkward conversation, mostly from the way you kept getting flustered and red in the face, but you and JJ were finally able to lay your feelings for each other on the table.

That was seven months ago. Seven months of you and JJ getting to know each other even more and falling even more for one another.

Currently you were laying out on a blanket in your small backyard, a run-down book in hand and your mind hanging onto every word that was printed on the stained pages. It was a Saturday which meant at any given moment your friends and boyfriend would be walking out to your yard through your back door to convince you to join them on their usual shenanigans. You joining them didn't mean you partake in what they do, it was more-so quietly laughing at the silly things they did and politely turning down the many beers they seemed to offer you every time you hung out. They knew your answer would always be no, but always offered anyways "just in case you change your mind". Despite the trouble they seemed to cause, they were good people and you were happy to have them in your life. Stuck in your book, you heard your name being called ever so lightly. "Y/N!" Kie's voice traveled through your yard and you gently placed your book down, smiling up at her as she made her way to you. "We're taking the Pogue out today, going for a little swim. Wanna join?" Going out on the water was always a breath of fresh air to you and even though you didn't particularly know how to swim, you still liked to be on the boat with them. "Sure," you exclaimed sofly. "Let me go grab some sandals real quick," a smile on your face as you gracefully stood up to retrieve your blanket and book from the ground.

Little did you know, Kie was part of a ploy JJ had been brewing for a date night, something that was long overdue. It didn’t take much convincing for him to get Kie to go along with it. “Oh, you should change into something else, it looks like you have some dirt on that,” she giggled slightly, knowing full well there wasn’t anything your current clothes you were wearing; a simple pastel top and jean shorts but Kie knew you like the back of her hand and there was no way you would want to go on a date without wearing something extra cutesy. “Ooo, definitely your dress with the sun flowers… I love that dress!” she exclaimed on the way back into your house.

You smiled and shrugged your shoulders before excusing yourself to your room to change.

Once you were changed, the two of you made your way to John B’s where he was currently waiting on the dock. “Looks like it’s just the three of us,” John B explained as he held his hand out to you to help you onto the boat. You couldn’t help the slight pout of your lip, expecting JJ to be there with all of you as usual. Before you could ask where JJ was, or Pope for that matter, John B beat you to the punch. “They had to deliver extra groceries to the golf club, but I’m sure they’ll be back for round two on the HMS Pogue,” he winked, the gleam in his eye a tad more mischievous than usual.

You three stayed out on the boat for a good three hours. During that time, Pope and JJ were back on land, setting up the backyard of the Chateau for a date for two. Though he didn’t have a lot of money, JJ did his best to make it work. They found a small, round table with two chairs in John B’s house and set it outside close to the water, laying a white sheet over the table as a cover. “My girl needs a nice view…” JJ had rambled on as the two worked hard, his eyes scanning the horizon from where the water met the land. Then they made a makeshift canopy over the table set, followed by twinkling light strands shaped like flowers Kie had let him borrow. All that was left to do was to set the table with a couple of glasses and a nice bottle of champagne, or for your preference, sparkling water and wait for Pope to finish the macaroni and cheese that was currently cooking on the stove top; your all time favorite.

It was nearing dark when the three of you made it back to John B’s and at the moment you were in a daze as you watched the sun lower into the water. You hadn’t realized the boat was docked until John B cleared his throat, signaling it was time to clear the boat. He had helped you off, not before doing a silly bow and using a weird accent as he said “Ma’am, your prince awaits you.” He chuckled at the weird expression on your face but then as your eyes glanced to his backyard, your smile grew even wider. “Why thank you, kind sir!” You went along with it, giggling as he walked you over to JJ. “M’lady,” JJ goofily grabbed your hand and placed a soft kiss on it. “I hope you like mac and cheese and sparkling water,” he exclaimed as he led you to the table and pulled the chair out for you.

“So that’s why they were all acting so weird,” you spoke up after finishing your last spoonful of the cheesy goodness. “I was just glad I was able to pull it off,” he responded. “But I do have one more surprise.” With that, he helped you from your seat and guided you to the hammock. With the help of Kie, he was able to hang a sheet, opposite of the hammock, and have a projector screen a movie onto the sheet. “I know how much you love this movie,” he spoke softly as he let you lay down on the hammock first so he could get the movie started. He gently placed himself beside you. “Me Before You,” you whispered, grinning at him. “You know this movie makes me cry every time, right?!,” you proclaim before nuzzling into him when he rested into the hammock next to you.

By the time, the movie was only halfway through, somehow instead of you nuzzling into him, his head was laying on your chest and your arms were wrapped around him. JJ would never admit it to any of the others, but he loved being the little spoon. "I thought you were supposed to be comforting me,” you teasingly jutted at him. “Yeah but you’re so soft and warm,” he whined, looking up to meet your eyes. He noticed your eyes were glassed over, a sign that the movie had already gotten you in your feelings. He gently placed a soft kiss on your jaw to distract you from the angsty scene on the screen and immediately you could feel yourself blush. “You’re so cute when you blush,” he murmured, closing his eyes for a moment while he relished in your embrace.

You couldn’t help the tears that flowed by the time the movie was over. JJ was still laying on your chest and while you held him, he maneuvered his arms around you, too. “Aw baby, you know I hate to see you cry,” he had whispered up at you, his thumb drawing small circles on your skin to soothe you. “Next time we’re going for a happy movie, right?” he questioned, and you nodded your head, a smile appearing on your features.

For the rest of the night, JJ made sure you didn’t shed anymore tears for the fictional movie but instead told you countless of stories about his adventures before he had met you. Most of them had you giggling while he would playfully pout that you found some of his stories to be funny. Once it was time for the two of you to sleep, you both stayed in the hammock with your arms around each other and JJ’s head on your chest. And the next morning that’s exactly how the pogues found you two and though they didn’t interrupt the cute scene before them, they all made a note to tease JJ later about being the little spoon.

[narniadreams]

very many tags that i’m sure nobody cares about (with songs and a quiz and facts about me if ur curious) 

tagged by the ever so lovely @trumpkinhotboy​

drop three completely different bands/artists u listen to

Super Junior (kpop)

Regina Spektor (anti-folk)

Flairck (dutch acoustic)

Stumbled upon this and decided to make it a tag game ! (this is so very accurate like how do quizzes know this !?) The socially awkward brains of the team // Socialization doesn't come easy to you. You might struggle to be heard or seen by the ones around you so you prefer to avoid it all together, as frustrating as it can be sometimes. For that reason you might be selective with the people you blend with, and at times it might seem that nobody will truly understand you. But when you find those who resonate with you, you're an extremely kind and loyal friend. Most importantly, you're smart, and people always value that about you. They will constantly rely on you, ask for your guidance and advice, and you're happy to provide it. You like being the reliable friend. You don't get crushes easily, but when you do you don't really know how to handle them. They feel overwhelming and like a waste of time. There's no way they like me back, is it? What if I ruin it? What if I'm reading way too much into it? Remember to relax enjoy the feeling once in a while, chances are that your crush sees that intelligent and kindhearted person everyone else seen in you as well

list 5 things about yourself you want your followers to know. they can be as simple as your age or as complex as your deepest fear, as long as it’s something you’re comfortable with sharing.

i haven’t been in love since the last 10 years and sometimes i am afraid that i will never fall in love with anyone ever again.

there was a period in my life where i really hated reading books. before, i loved reading, but when i was around 8 i started to dislike it, and i only ever read comic books or magazines or very short/easy books. when i got into my last two years of highschool (15/16 age-wise) we had to read 5 books each year, so i was forced to read. i kind of started to love it again and i read a lot of books easily. since then, i never hated reading books again hahaha.

i’m going to study in south-korea next month, so i won’t be able to go to my violin classes. it’s the first break i have ever taken since i started playing violin in 2007. 

when i really love a piece of media, i often remember quotes from it, and in a period of obsession, i will keep saying that quote over and over again for no reason. a while back i replayed heavy rain and i kept walking around saying: ‘’oh shit jack, ain’t nothing to it, just a little bit of self defense. page one of the police manual, kill or be killed.’’ at random moments. 

that being said, i love video games !! i’ve sometimes got surprised responses to that because people say i ‘don’t look like a gamer-girl’ whatever that’s supposed to mean????? just two days ago i started playing days gone and it’s been very stressful so far hahaha.

I saw one on the mcr side of my dash where you put a song title for every little of your url and I thought it would be fun

N - nella fantasia - il divo

A - angels - owl city

R - rockin’ the suburbs - ben folds

N - no other - super junior

I - idea - akmu

A - a case of you - joni mitchell

D - dream girl - shinee

R - resta qui - andrea bocelli

E - einstein’s idea - johnny flynn

A - après moi - regina spektor

M - mayday - victon

S - she - jannabi

RULES: post your top five favourite comfort characters

Samual Drake (Uncharted)

Edmund Pevensie (The Chronicles of Narnia)

Nagisa Hazuki (Free! Iwatobi Swimclub)

Hideyoshi Nagachika (Tokyo Ghoul)

Warren Graham (Life Is Strange)

hot shower or cold shower // texting or calling // earphones or headphones // paperback or hardcover // matte or gel // 12 hour clock or 24 hour clock // blue or green // sunsets or sunrises // tulips or orchids // candle light or moon light // sci-fi or horror // pen or pencil // pandas or koalas // gold or silver // sneakers or boots // denim jacket or leather jacket // pink or purple // wind chimes or dreamcatchers // chocolate or sour candy // deodrant or perfume // drive-in movie theatre or the cinema // pastel colours or neutral/earth tones // butterflies or honeybees // lemonade or iced tea // past or future // constellations or aurora borealis

cloud watching or stargazing // cherries or strawberries // messy room or tidy room // cooking or baking // blue pen or black pen // poetry or prose // loose clothes or fitted clothes // bookmark or dog-ear // orange or yellow // chocolate or red velvet // rings or necklaces // netflix or cinema // monsoon or autumn // late nights or early mornings // road trips or train/flight // candles or fairy lights // music streaming or record player // blinds or curtains // picnic date or carnival date // piano or violin // ice cream or frozen yogurt // museums or libraries // pancakes or waffles // cookies or brownies // moon or stars

there are more tags that i still have to do but this is it for now lol !! i tag anyone who reads this, no taking back >:)

[vanchlo]

The Partner / Chapter Twelve, "The Resolute"

Word Count: 8.4k /  Story Masterlist /  Read The Assistant /  Read on Wattpad / Song: Hold Me While You Wait by Lewis Capaldi (click to listen) / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics, such as death, grief, and miscarriage

"I never know when I will miss you. I can't ever predict just what will grip my heart with the reminder that you are gone. It could be anything. Anytime. Anywhere. You are everywhere and nowhere all at once. When the days are bright, I am blinded by your presence and even when the world is dark I still manage to find you. In laughter, I hear the echo of losing you. Your presence is overflowing in the tears that fall. Now that your body is gone, everything holds your being. I miss you in the cold depths of winter and I long for you in the thick summer breeze. You are my first rising thought in the morning and my last notion as I sink into the heaviness of the night. I thought we ran out of moments together, but every moment seems to belong to you. How can you be everywhere when you are nowhere to be seen? I used to worry about facing the world because I didn't know what would trigger my heartache. I used to be afraid of every feeling, every memory, every moment because I didn't know which ones held you. Now I know you are everywhere and I think that I know why. You're everywhere because you're somewhere inside of who I am. I am the bearer of your life and your memory. I am the keeper of your existence. Even though you're gone, I never really have to search for you. I never know where I'll find you but you are always there. I never know when I will miss you and it happens all the time"

- Rachel Whalen

I had lost count of how many times I had fallen back asleep since he had left for another day of work, the second time in the last few days. I’d be telling a lie if I said that I didn’t miss him, because like he’d confessed when he thought I was sleeping, I missed him all of the time too. The difference was that I felt it now when he was gone. I wasn’t sure why I’d bitten his head off that night about going back to work. I did but couldn’t think about it after the way he broke down in front of me and I just stood there. I didn’t do a thing. Instead, I shook my head and pushed him away. God, how could I do that to him? I thought he’d moved on . . . That’s how it went. I’d wake up to an empty, cold bed and the guilt would come in crashing waves. The hot tears would follow and eventually, I’d fall back into another fitful sleep. Nightmares were almost always guaranteed, but for the first time in our relationship, I comforted myself back to sleep. Somehow, they didn’t wake him like before, but last night when he woke with a gasp that melted into tears, I think I knew because he was busy with his own.

At first, I thought I’d been imagining it, or maybe that was just my coping mechanism by now. Denial and pretending. No, it really was and it went around like a circle. Denying the denial. But when the knocking on the door turned into the dinging of the doorbell, I knew that it was real. It didn’t stop after a few times, like the mailman would. No, this person was persistent, and I definitely was not. I couldn’t even find the strength to move to look at the alarm clock to see the time. By then, it had stopped. He’d only been gone an hour now and I missed him deeply, finding it hard to not pick up the phone to ask him to come home. I did but in my own way, and not one he’d understand, despite how he knew every page of my book.

I hope work is going well

Only a few minutes passed before a reply came in with a silent vibration.

thanks it is, just meetings again and an interview

Sounds boring. I know how you hate both. New hire?

possibly. i forgot to tell u gwen left. i hope ur getting some rest

No, you hadn’t but that’s ok. I think I only talked to her like 5 times. I’m trying.

ya she was good, just kept 2 herself. want me 2 pick up anything for lunch? anything soundin good? Starbucks? pizza? u can have whatever u want

You can pick

At that, I heard my phone lock before placing it face down onto the bedside table, not able to continue a conversation about food any longer. Another wave of irrational tears came at missing him and wanting normalcy back, but the fitful sleep didn’t follow. I wasn’t sure if I was regretful or not when I peeled back the covers, shocked by the sudden cold.

The chilling silence filling the house hit me in the face when I stepped out into the hallway. It had been choking at times, mostly at night when things were at their worst. During the day, like now, it was never this quiet. Something on the tv was always playing, and I soon found myself in front of it, watching the end of a Marvel movie Harry and I once watched.

Its sequel was nearing the halfway point by the time the doorbell rang again. It was on its fourth time now and the person still hadn’t stopped. The surprise on their face was just as strong as that of mine when I found myself at the door, in front of Harry’s grandmother.

“Hi, Becky,” she said softly, a warm cadence to her words like always. I may have been biased towards grandmas, but Harry’s checked all of the points and more. I couldn’t help the squeeze of my heart at the mere sight of her, a melancholy smile spreading on her lips.

“Claire. Um, hi. Harry isn’t here right now, he had to go into work this morning,” I rush, unsure of why I’m telling her this, except for I know why. I hadn’t spoken to another human being that wasn’t Harry or my doctor since . . since it had happened. Sure, texts to Skye, my dad, and Robbie. It was the only way to placate them from telling them I didn’t want to see them. Can I blame them, though?

“Oh, that’s okay. I was uh, hoping I could come in,” she suggests. I stand there, taken aback by her request. I had come to love this woman like she was my own grandmother, and yet here I am, not opening the door for her. “Maybe we could wait for him together with some brookies.”

Dropping my eyes, I watch as she lifts a saran wrapped plate of chocolatey looking cookies. I didn’t need to look any longer to know what they were. Her famous brownie cookies that Harry had compared any cookie or brownie of mine to over the years, and I eventually had found out why.

“You know I can’t turn those down,” I mumble, feeling the first hints of a smile. She grins for me instead, following me into the house that somehow feels even emptier when we step inside. Awkwardly, I closed the door behind her, pulling my hands back into the oversized King’s College crewneck of Harry’s I’d stolen long ago. “Can I . . Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Tea?” I stumble, watching as she takes a seat at the island, setting down one of those cloth bags beside her.

“Coffee would be fine, honey,” she says, and always with a smile. I welcome the distraction, feeling as if I’d forgotten how to talk to another person. No, I know that I have. I hadn’t even been able to carry on a conversation with Harry, nonetheless his grandmother.

At times, I still felt uncomfortable around his parents, especially his dad. If there was one of them that I felt the easiest around, it was Claire. I’m reminded of the bouquet of black eyed susans probably now wilting on the table when she notes the array of flowers taking up space over there. I nod at her words while closing the lid of the instant coffee machine, placing a tall mug underneath the spout. The compassionate words scribbled in her cursive with its accompanying card come back to me, and suddenly, the steaming coffee grows blurry before my eyes. Sometimes, I wondered if she had a feeling about things like me, because as the first tear fell, she speaks an apology.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced. I had let Harry know I was in town and would stop by today, but he must have forgotten to mention it to you,” she begins in a low volume, a Harry-like molasses shining in her voice. I mumble an ‘it’s okay’ while watching the coffee continue to fill the mug. It’s almost done, but then what will I do to distract myself? “Harry had said your fridge was quite full, but I couldn’t help but make a few of your favorites to bring you both. Times like these, cooking feels like the last thing you want to do.”

“A lot of things do,” I find myself saying, surprising her I’m sure and especially myself. I hadn’t even been able to find it in myself to put that feeling into words and say them to Harry. It was a blessing and a curse how we could read each other so well, but I know I’d closed myself off from him a long time ago. On accident and then, on purpose.

Ripples form across the surface of the liquid as the last few drops plummet into the dark abyss. I wait, staring at the steam rising from the mug, unsure as to why. A silence had embedded itself into these walls so long ago I couldn’t remember, and it sat between us now too. I still didn’t know how to broach it, and there was no nudging the switch that would let me talk about her. I truly didn’t know how to, not even to her father. Sometimes, I wanted to forget her so I’d stop hurting, but that felt like an impossibility and then a crime. Gulping, I wipe at my cheeks and thread my fingers through the ceramic handle.

“Those are a beautiful assortment of flowers,” she comments again when I set the drink down in front of her. A forced ‘thank you’ leaves my lips when I turn around and walk towards the fridge. “You and Harry are so loved, and so was your baby.”

I’d opened this fridge how many times over the years, and now as the handle sits in my palm, I can’t find it in myself to do it. The forgotten coupons, lists, photographs, drawings from Harper and Ollie, and magnets grew hazy before my eyes. The hum of the coffee machine cooling down wasn’t enough to mask the whimper that escaped my lips, no matter how desperately I tried to shove it down. After breathing in and out a few times, it still didn’t help, but I was able to open the door and grab what I’d needed.

Keeping my head down, I set the coffee creamer in front of her, not spending a second more facing her with the damage on my cheeks. As the spoon clinks against the sides of her mug, I distract myself by finding room in the fridge for the filled tupperware containers she’d taken from the bag. Scribbled labels adorn the top of each one, but I look past them as I stack them on a shelf. From the corner of my eye, I saw her stand from her seat to look at the flowers, thumbing at the typed messages. It’s not until the last one is snug against a container of yogurt and strawberries that somebody says something.

“They always say the same things, don’t they?” she murmurs with an out of place scoff, sounding like a hum from her lips. The tears had dried up as I thought about how to fit a container of beef stroganoff amongst tater tot casserole, but when I turned around, her face still falls. “It was the same with Steven too. They all say that they understand, but there’s no way that they can. They hadn’t lost their spouse, or . . their baby.” This roots me to the spot and we spend the next few moments looking at each other as her Soft Rose lipsticked lips fall.

“I didn’t want to come, Becky, because I know that when I lost my loves, I wanted to be alone. But that was where my demons lied in wait, and I don’t want you to go through the same thing I did when I lost my baby,” she continues. I couldn’t tell if it was the light or the way my eyes deceive me with a returning wetness, but a similar glint appears in hers. It holds my attention for a mere moment until my heart starts to pound against my ribs. “Steven and I were a little younger than you and Harry when we lost our baby at four months.”

There could be no saving my throat nor my eyes as I gulp against the dryness, feeling all of the wetness detour down my face. Her words ricochet inside of me, bouncing off walls. For the first time in too long, they sink in and make me feel something. I resist at first, not wanting to let my chest shake or my heart race, but there’s no stopping it. Staring back at her, she quietly sits back down and takes a sip from her coffee. Looking back to me, a corner of her mouth twitches as a gleaming droplet beads at her chin.

“What has it been now? Fifty five years and I still miss them . . my little baby,” the blood pounds in my ears as I stare at her in what, amazement? Horror? Complete and utter surprise? Probably, all of them.

“Gran, I-I never knew,” a voice says from behind me. Turning, another wave of shock courses through me at the sight of Harry with his hand on the door to the garage.

“I never told anybody, except for my immediate family when it had happened . . The thing was, the taboo around miscarriages and infertility hasn’t changed a whole lot since then. It disappoints me really . . Back then, you didn’t talk about it. Now, sometimes you talk about it, but it’s just the same. It’s near to impossible to speak about. Friends and family want to say something, but they don’t know how to without hurting you. So, instead of mentioning the loved one you lost, people don’t when they think of them, and they’re forgotten. That’s always been my worst fear, and I don’t want either of you to go through that- I cried when your mother told me what had happened, Harry. My heart breaks for the both of you, knowing that you’re going through the same nightmare that my Steven and I did.”

A puff leaves his lips and I can almost hear him gulp as sound evades us. Words haven’t been a friend to my lips in what feels like months, and right now isn’t an exception.

“I’m so sorry, Gran.”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Harry. I’m so sorry that you lost your baby . . I heard it was a girl, your daughter,” her words are ginger and slow. Somehow, another piece joins the puzzle, but it still leaves me staring at the floor as tidal waves crash inside of me. “It was a long time ago, but I still miss them and wonder who they’d be. I’m sorry to say that never goes away, and that the whole b-s of ‘time heals all wounds’ isn’t entirely true. You just build up scar tissue to it, but some days are worse than others. I miss Steven terribly some days, like the day you announced your engagement, and your pregnancy. When your mother told me over the phone three weeks ago, I wished he could’ve been there too, for you to talk to about fathers losing a child. Men are still pressured to not show emotions but it was just as hard on him to lose our baby, and sometimes fathers are forgotten.”

A mess of emotions roils inside of me, flipping my stomach upside down. My heart too, arguably. The last sound that I make out is a sniffle of his before I’m bringing my hands to my eyes, and sobbing against them. It felt like I stood there for minutes before escaping down the hall, when it was only a few seconds in reality.

I wasn’t certain if they knew what I did. That I could hear them from the bedroom down the hall, the place I’d come to retreat to instead of Harry’s arms. I felt him coming towards me just moments ago, but I couldn’t do it. I think I’d almost forgotten what his touch felt like. If they thought I could hear them, they probably had mistaken me for being asleep or for not listening. I think they tried to keep their voices down, but despite Harry being a closet musician, there wasn’t much for treatment to these walls. He’d joked before about having sex one night his mom stayed here but I pushed him away, chalking it up to thin walls.

Now, the memory wasn’t that funny to me as I heard their conversation. I almost felt guilty, as if I was cheating by hearing them, but this was the only way I could take part in a conversation I know I should be part of. I didn’t think that I could even speak if I had wanted to, because of the hiccuped sobs that filled my chest, making it hard to speak. I know that I made the right decision when my head rests against the door upon hearing about what they say next, about me.

“I can hardly get her to have a conversation with me, Gran. Let alone about . . about the baby.”

“Oh, Harry. You just have to give her time.”

“I know and I have, but it’s becoming all the harder to feel as time passes. She’s getting worse and I’m barely staying put together. It scares me so much, because I don’t want to lose her too. If I did, I’d lose everything I have to live for.”

At last, the sound of my choked sobs drowned out that of their voices. By the time my lungs calmed down and my heart hardened once more, it was quiet. I missed his voice despite how it had almost betrayed me to another, and made me hurt. My rumbling stomach ultimately won the race and it was what led me down the hall, and without knowing, back to her. I blamed it on the appetizing smell wafting from the kitchen.

I’d already seen her and had decided to keep going, but upon passing the island where she sat again, I heard her intake of breath. Harry wasn’t anywhere to be seen, despite the wiped clean plate in the sink with the large fork and an empty can. He was the only one who used them and who drank the sparkling waters that I thought tasted like bug spray.

“I’m so sorry, Becky. The last thing I wanted was to upset you, honey.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Frankly, I’m rather tired of people saying those two words, but thank you,” I return, a steadiness arriving in my voice that I didn’t know I’d missed. “Can I-?”

“Of course, it’s all yours,” she insists with a smile. Nodding, I pick up the serving spoon and a plate, feeling my stomach grow happy at the sight and smell of her famous homemade lasagna. “There’s garlic bread in the oven and salad in the fridge. I’m just going to use the little girl’s room.”

I almost smile, realizing that I’ve missed her and just maybe, I feel okay enough to talk about it. I’d found a seat at the island beside her empty cup of coffee, already digging into the lasagna. An almost embarrassing moan left my lips at the taste of the layers of cheese, pasta, and bolognese sauce.

“Leave it to Claire to find the way to your heart,” somebody comments. Turning, I find Harry walking towards me with a tilt to his lips. He unrolls the hem of a Queen Bohemian Rhapsody shirt, looking more like himself now that he’s out of a suit. Sometimes, I still catch myself thinking that it was always the opposite, seeing how I’d know him to always be in suits for so long.

To my surprise, I don’t flinch or pull back when his hand arrives on my shoulder as I wipe my mouth with a napkin.

“You don’t know how happy it makes me to see you eating, and enjoying it . . I’m surprised you haven’t broken into that plate of brookies yet,” he comments. Something happy buds on my lips when his lips sponge a kiss to my temple.

“So am I,” I reply, cutting myself another bite of the food. To my happiness, his arm comes around my shoulder and stays there. I welcome it and feel a warmth grow in my gut upon finding the courage to meet his eyes. They hold something that I learn to be mischief when he plucks one of the cookies off the plate. “Hey, save some for me.”

“Don’t worry, they’re all yours. Well, except a few for me. Maybe we could split them down the middle. Half for me and half for you,” he suggests with a cocky shrug to his broad shoulders. It surprises us both when my lips spill a few second giggle. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed that sound.”

“I’ve missed you,” it’s but a squeak and still, I know he hears it by the sad curl of his lips. “I’m going to try.”

“Thank you, my lovebug. That’s all I can ask for,” he smiles, stealing a quick peck from my lips. It catches me off guard and I find myself staring at him while he manages to take a bite that’s half of the cookie. He winks at me and I turn away, shoveling a large bite of cheesy pasta past my lips.

Another bite had donned my fork by the time Claire found her seat beside us. I’d made a dent in my garlic bread by now as Harry worked on his second cookie.

Swallowing, I loaded my fork with a scrap of melted cheese and bolognese sauce. “Claire. How . . How did you do it? Be okay again after losing your baby? It . . It feels impossible,” the words seem to come from nowhere at first.

After a few moments, I know where they stem from, and just how much importance they hold. It looks back at me in Harry’s eyes when I peer up at him, smiling back when he thumbs away a tear below my eye. As her response hits our ears, I reach my arm out and across his back, holding tightly onto his side. I didn’t let go once as we cried together with his grandma about our lost babies, and neither did he.

I went to bed with a hope in my heart, thinking that tomorrow would be different. Alas, I woke up to an empty bed and it wasn’t. I wasn’t surprised but sure, I was let down. I knew that somebody else would be much more disappointed than I was, if that were possible.

It wasn’t long after my waking realization that there was a knock on the door anda creak, “Hey, buggie. I’m making french toast. How many pieces do you want?” The rest of the night had been uneventful, for once. His grandma stayed for another hour or two as we ate cookies and I finally talked about it. Her. Now, lying with my back to Harry, I didn’t know how to do that again. To talk. “Wakey wakey, it’s nearly noon.”

His voice was closer now as his hands settled on my shoulders from behind. The feeling of his thumbs kneading the tissue made me want to let him drive away the intrusive thoughts. To let him win, but I didn’t know how. Yesterday had seemed like a fluke, as I looked back on it. Even if he was her father, how could I explain to him the hollowness that had filled me when I remembered that my child had died inside of me? No, that wasn’t something he could understand, nor could he hear how much I wished he had been there that morning. That the fact he wasn’t there had changed everything. I couldn’t tell him that and I never wanted to, but I’d gotten close. At the times his nagging and hovering drove me up the wall, my tongue itched to deal the worst blows just to get him off my back. I knew it was wrong, so much of it was but I didn’t know how to stop. All I knew how to do was to drown myself in my regret afterwards. Sometimes, I was mad that we couldn’t keep alcohol around, but at others, I was glad for it.

His molasses voice murmurs my name once more, another time that I ignore, until I can’t. “No thanks.”

“I can bring it in here for you. There’s bacon and strawberries too. Orange juice, as well.”

Shaking my head, I bury my face deeper into the pillow, finding that it has his smell. At one time, he had been my safety blanket, but now it was his smell that could calm me down. I wanted to feel guilty about it but I didn’t have the energy to feel guilt because of anything else as it was all focused on one thing.

“I’ll have a little bit,” I surrender, listening to his hopeful response before leaving. For once, he let me eat alone in the bedroom. But he still inspected my plate, and I could tell that he was biting back a remark as he read the paper at the island.

“Can we talk?”

“What about?” I replied, bending over to place my dishes in the dishwasher. Standing back up, I fail at readying myself for his next onslaught of questions. The ones that I can’t answer.

“You know . . About Phoebe,” he answers. I hear it, the way he has to shove the words past his lips in order to get them out. I only know because I’ve done it a thousand times, and often with him. You do it when it’s too hard to say, but you know that it has to be done regardless.

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Becks,” he sighs, annoyance clear in his voice. “I thought you said that you were going to try. Last night went so well and you did great, I-.”

“I just can’t do it today. Okay, Harry?” I retort tearfully, catching the sagging of his features when I lock eyes with him. Sighing, I forget the cookie I’d picked up, placing the saran wrap back over it.

“So what, we need to schedule a fricken time to talk about it?”

I’d begun my retreat, but I wasn’t far enough yet. No, if I was in earshot of Harry, it wasn’t over yet. It had always been that way, ever since the beginning.

“Harry, please,” my words start, decorated with tears that drag my words underwater.

“We got pregnant and we . . we had a miscarriage, Becks. It’s nearly been a month now, but what comes next? When do we get back to normal?”

I hadn’t even been facing him and the words felt like a slap in the face. The look on mine must have felt similar to him, because when I turn around to look at him through blurry eyes, he melts into a puddle of regret.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Becks. Not-.”

“Not what way, Harry? That we should just forget about it and move on with our lives? God, you’re sounding like the doctor the other day who said that we can start trying again whenever we want. But I don’t want to try again yet, Harry, because I’m too scared that we’d lose another one- I mean, what if I can’t have kids? And- I don’t want to forget her or replace her,” but he didn’t hear the last part and I hadn’t decided if I’d wanted him to.

“You don’t know that, Becks, and that’s not what I meant at all. I promise,” he interrupts. The legs of his oversized sweatpants sag down to his ankles when he stands. “I didn’t say we had to get pregnant again right away. I’m fucking scared too. I just mean that I want us to get better. Collectively and on our own. I hate seeing you so upset all of the time, and just want you to be happy. We’re supposed to get married sometime this year and I still don’t know when that’s going to happen. The house is going to be ready in a few months, and I wanted to bring you there one day to look at the progress.”

I had begun to shake my head long before he’d stopped talking. It brought an edge to his words and an annoyance that I didn’t like, despite inciting it. A loud puff passes his lips and he returns to the chair, raking a hand through his hair. That either meant annoyance or boredom, or both. Like I tend to do, I take it personally and figure he’s both annoyed and bored of me, not that it was anything new lately.

“I can’t do that, Harry. I-I can’t,” fumbling with my words, my hand gets caught in my hair as I avoid his eyes. It doesn’t stop him from retorting an inquisitive ‘why not?’ “How am I supposed to go and see the house we’re building that has five extra bedrooms, Harry? How do you expect me to look at the rooms we planned out for o-our kids, and one for . . for Phoebe’s nursery when she’s not coming anymore?”

“Becks,” the nickname leaves his lips like that one breath that’s knocked out of you when you fall. The wrinkles that are rarely there above his eyes return as his eyebrows fall deeply. “I didn’t . . I wasn’t thinking. I’m so sorry.”

“And so am I, but . . I just can’t do that right now, o-or talk about her. I’m sorry,” I say with haste to my words and in my actions. The sad sound from his lips follows me to the couch where I perch, pretending to watch the tv. He doesn’t join me and after a while of pretending, my eyes start to droop.

The image of Shrek and Fiona making animal balloons falls away until a sound wakes me. Time had passed because now Fiona stands in front of Lord Farquad and Shrek is nowhere to be seen.

“I’m going to run an errand. Is there um, anything you need, bug?” he murmurs, the jangling of keys adorning his words.

“No thanks.”

“Okay, I won’t be long- Becks?” he speaks up, clearing his throat at last. I call back a question and wait as he idles. “I really am sorry about earlier, I didn’t mean anything insensitively or to upset you. I’d never want to do that.”

“I know, Harry. It’s okay,” are the last words that pass between us before he bids me a goodbye. I welcome the lack of silence but curl into the couch more, pulling the blanket around me as the movie continues.

My head throbbed when I stood up, but it had been happening a lot lately. I knew it was because I hadn’t been eating much, and as I think about that, my feet lead me to the fridge.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had felt full after eating, and still wanting a cookie afterwards. Like I do now. Licking the crumbs from my fingers after the last bite, the wooden floor is cold against my bare feet. For a reason I don’t know, I soon am staring up the staircase, and in that direction. It pulls at me to climb the stairs, but something deep down throbs in denial.

Instead, my attention is stolen when my ringtone blares from the couch. I lose my phone half of the time these days and so calls went unanswered. Assuming it was Harry with a grocery question, I picked it up without looking at who it was.

“Hi, Boops.”

“Dad,” I almost sigh, but I was unsure as to why. Was it the bombardment of talking to my dad on the phone for the first time in almost a month? Most likely. Or was it the homesickness that grew in my gut at the sound of his voice. “Daddy.”

“Hi, honey. I was hoping you’d answer. I’ve missed your voice.”

Sinking onto the couch, my bottom lip quivers as I try to breathe in slowly, but my heart won’t listen. It hasn’t for a while now.

“I’ve missed yours, Daddy.”

“Oh, baby girl,” he says in an exhale. Already, I know that he hears what my voice is dipped in, but I don’t hide it. It was too late for that. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

“I’m getting really sick of that word, but thanks, Dad.”

His classical chuckle begins its opening but it falters there, and so did any chance at mine. Silence had rarely been uncomfortable with my Dad. That was only when I’d gotten into trouble or when I was trying to tell him about something that had happened with my Mom, which usually went hand in hand. Over the years, I could hardly count the times silence had grown awkward between us, until it did now.

“What are you doing?” he decides to say, lifting my eyes to the tv screen where it appears Fiona and Farquaad will get their Happily Ever After. I knew without needing to think what would happen next. They wouldn’t, because it never really happens that way. No, it’s not that easy or immediate.

“Watching Shrek on the couch.”

“Is Harry there?” he murmurs a question.

“No, he went to do something not long ago. I don’t know what,” I answer, wrapping the tassels of the blanket around my finger until it hurts. “I think he’s mad at me. I can’t tell anymore, it seems like he always is.”

“I’m sure that’s not true, honey.”

Shaking my head for nobody to see, I taste blood when pressing my lips together to hold back the whimpering. Sniffling, I breathe in raggedly before speaking, “I think it is . . I can’t blame him, because I’ve been so horrible to him, Dad. H-He was supposed to be a Daddy and I’ve forgotten that he’s g-going through all of this too. I’ve been in my own little world being sad a-about the baby, and I forgot about him, Dad. I’m supposed to marry him soon, and I don’t even wear my ring anymore, and I can’t go upstairs, and-,” he doesn’t cut me off. I leave that honor for myself as I watch the color drain from my finger when I unwrap the tassel. I’d slowly come to hate the color red, even refusing to eat strawberries at first. It’d become the color I’d hated most after . . after that morning.

“I’m sure that he understands, Ree, or he’s at least trying to. I’ve spoken to him a few times now, and he’s not mad at you. He’s just frustrated and overwhelmed. Harry hates to see you unhappy, it’s always been that way with you too, and vice versa. He wants to fix everything, but I told him that’s not always possible. You can’t fix another person . . . and neither can you, Boops. You’re doing your best and so is he, and after a while-.”

“But I’m not, Dad. I’m hardly trying, only when I feel like it. I . . I don’t know how to do any of this and I don’t want to. I don’t want her to be gone. I was supposed to be a Mom. Her Mom,” I weep, pressing the handful of blanket against my eyes, catching my tears.

“I wish I could make it all better for you too, honey. Ever since you were little, I wanted to kiss the owies better and tell off the kids who were mean to you, but . . . you have to do it yourself and when you can, Becky. You can’t rush this. Grief, it doesn’t have a timetable or a road map- and, honey, you are a Mom. You’re Phoebe’s Mom. Nothing will ever change that,” somehow, I cry harder at his last words, melting into the couch.

“Thank you, Daddy,” I cry into the phone, wishing it was his shoulder, instead. It’s a few moments filled with the sound of my tears and his own sniffles, before I speak again. “But how do I . . how do I let Harry back in? I pushed him away without meaning to and now we’re so far apart, Dad.”

“I think that you need to remember that he’s grieving the loss of a child too. Your child together, Ree, and that he’s feeling the exact same feelings that you are. He’s devastated at not getting to be a father to Phoebe, to meet her, watch her grow up into a person, and do all of the things that you’re grieving the loss of too. You’re a team, honey, and you need to give each other some grace too. There aren’t any rules to this and maybe I shouldn’t talk because I’m divorced, but the first reason you’re there with each other is because you love each other. You have to remember that too, honey. Hey, I’m sorry, I think I’m burning my dinner in the oven. Can I call you back later, sweetie?”

“Yeah, Dad. Of course. Um, thank you. That really helped me,” I reply, swiping at my tears with the dry side of the blanket.

“I’m glad to hear it. I love you, Boops.”

“I love you too, Daddy,” and he’s gone. All I hear is the silence of the dead call and Shrek’s voice on the tv as he yells at Lord Farquaad. It’s what fills my ears and distracts my mind when I lay my head on the pillow, resting my hand on my belly without thinking. But unlike every other time I’d found myself doing it since . . since I was actually holding my baby, I let it stay there, wildly wishing she could be here watching Shrek with me.

I heard him come in when the credits of the movie are switching to the opening of its sequel. It was arguably the best, in my opinion, but it was something Harry and I had always disagreed upon. The memory sparks an invitation for him on my tongue, but upon raising my head, I watch him disappear down the hallway.

My ears aren’t sure what to focus on, the sound of his parting footsteps, the racing of my heart, or guitar strings soon being plucked from down the hall. It wasn’t much of a choice, because my feet were already leading me towards his study. A place where he had been spending a lot of time recently. I find myself gravitating towards the sound and wanting to hear more, but I stop outside the door nervously. My heart pulls me forward, despite the way it gallops, making me feel sick to my stomach. Standing there, I wonder why this is something I’m nervous about, but nothing is the same anymore. I hadn’t felt this way for what had it been now, years? There hadn’t been a time since the beginning that I was nervous to talk to Harry, and yet, here I stood doing just that.

His playing stopped and I perked up, making out the scribbling of pen on paper. Was he writing a song, I wondered quietly and wished I could ask. I didn’t know how to, and that was something I’d thought too many times lately. How to get out of bed. To eat a whole plate of food. Talk to my family and friends. I hardly even knew how to talk to Harry anymore. That’s what was holding me back, wasn’t it? Sure, if you wanted to sum it up.

“I know you’re standing outside the door . . Did you need something?” Harry murmurs, an edge to his voice. It was one that had appeared out of the blue and refused to leave. I only knew because I’d felt my voice change like that too.

There’s the creaking of the floor before I press the ajar door open enough for me to fit through. I find him sitting back down on his office chair, but he faces away from me, a guitar propped on his lap.

“How’d you know?” I ask softly, still awkwardly standing in the doorway. His eyes flit to mine and I’m unsure of why I look away, except that I can’t face him. No, not when mine are still wet and I’m sure they aren't going to dry up anytime soon. Not after what I’m about to say.

“You forget how long I’ve known you,” he mumbles, peering down at the moleskin journal he scribbles in. “Four years, give or take. You learn their cues and the sounds they make when you come to know somebody for that long. That’s how I heard you at the door, it was your footsteps.”

“Oh,” I respond flatly, feeling dumb. His tone doesn’t imply it and nor do his words, but the embarrassment has run rampant already.

Watching him write and escape to his own little world had always been one of my favorite things to observe. Even his handwriting was something that brought me . . comfort. I blamed it on the familiarity, but as it pours from his pen, it makes my heart slow down a few ticks.

“My Dad called and we talked for a little bit.”

Harry hums a reply, crossing something out on the piece of paper. Scratching his head, he sighs whilst staring at the writing. I can’t make it out from here, but once again, the silence finds its old spot. Remembering his initial question when he heard me at the door, I worry that I’m bothering him. Gulping past the nervousness and doubt, I pedal forward.

“Was that yours?” I ask warily, noting his head rising so he can meet my eyes for a split second. They hold a question in them, perhaps dozens. “The song. It . . It was really pretty.”

“Yeah . . It’s just something I’ve been playing around with,” his answer comes out in a pillowy tone. It has changed ever since . . since I’d run away from him, and I hear it now as he speaks his reply.

“I really . . really like it,” I comment, looking towards the ceiling when his grandfather’s Gibson acoustic grows hazy in my eyes.

“Thank . . you. Hey, what is it? Did your dad say something that upset you?” it had been so long since I’d heard that steely edge absent from his voice. I don’t know why I mourned it, because it was my fault it had ever arrived in the first place. Wasn’t it? “Becks.”

“Yeah, he said a lot of things th-that made sense, actually,” I confess, dropping my head to stare at my fingers that I wring. I’m unable to ignore the feeling of my lips trembling against each other, despite busying myself with adjusting my rings. They stop when I arrive at the one that speaks volumes, and how deeply I’d ignored it.

Braving the storm, I finally look at him. His greens are patient and soft, something neither of our eyes have been for the other for awhile now. Without breaking eye contact, he settles his guitar onto its stand and discards the pad of paper.

“Harry, c-can I have a hug?” slowly, the overdue question comes.

“Of course,” he responds, a corner of his mouth quirking up. Already, he’s holding his arms out towards me. “You’ve never needed to ask, buggie.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, feeling the air whoosh out of me when my body touches his. Somehow, my chest shakes harder with a new sob. It only worsens when his hands come under my thighs, lifting me up to sit on his lap.

“It’s been so long since we’ve hugged,” I know he doesn’t mean to, but it feels like a chasm through my chest when he says that. The guilt that had arrived at my dad’s words increases by tenfold.

“I’m sorry,” it’s but a whisper against his neck, my favorite place for hide and seek. But it was always him seeking me, it had been for months now, and I hadn’t let him win. Not once.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry for everything, Harry,” I repeat, pulling back to find his greens swarmed by tears. Swiping my thumb under them, I catch the way that they leak with sadness. “For how horribly I’ve treated you this last month, and how . . how I forgot that you- you lost our baby too.”

“Oh, honey. You don’t have to-,” he begins, adamant in his apology. One that I won’t accept.

“No, but I do have to apologize,” I sob, surprised at the way I’m shocked by the rough feeling of his cheeks. It had been so long since I’d touched him like this, despite watching him grow his beard out. “My dad, he . . he put it into perspective for me. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, I hate myself for that, for-.”

“Hey, don’t hate yourself for anything. This last month has been a Hell we never thought we’d have to endure. Something we shouldn’t have to deal with, and one that isn’t our fault,” he insists, thumbing at the place where a dimple would usually fall in my left cheek. I’d forgotten it was there, just like I’d done the same to him.

“But all you’ve been doing is trying to take care of me, and I made that so hard for you,” comes my cry against his palm, feeling the way he holds me together from breaking for the thousandth time. No, that would imply I’d have been put back together, but that wasn’t something I’d done. “You tried to make me eat and I fought you on it until you stopped talking about it. I argued with you and ignored you when you were just trying to keep the world going, but you never stopped, even though I did. You didn’t stop living and loving me when I stopped.”

“Becks, it’s okay,” he repeats, the words sliding into my ears as my hand wanders to his neck. A hoodie with cartoons from our childhoods dons his upper half, tattoos peeking out from the color. I found the charm of his necklace instantaneously, something I could do in the dark.

“But it’s not, Harry. It’s not okay how I treated you. I forgot you and that you’ve been mourning the loss of your child too. Our b-baby,” I whimper, sniffling when I inhale uneasily. My fingers shake before me until he takes hold of my hand, surrounding it with his own before pressing it to his lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“I forgive you, Becks. I always will,” Harry says, tucking his chin over my head when I melt against him. “I meant it that first night after we came home and you disappeared on me . . We lost our baby, our child, and I can’t . . I can’t lose you too, Rebecca. I have, time and time again, and I can’t do it again. I’ve hardly stayed pieced together lately being so far away from each other like we have . . God, the only thing that kept me going was just thinking, ‘one more day’ for so many days.”

Hiccuping, my hands brace themselves against his taut back, feeling his own drift along my spine. Shaking my head against the crook of his neck, I struggle to breathe, let alone speak, “I’m so sorry, Harry. I can’t believe how awful I was to you. We’re supposed to get married soon, and I can’t even live up to that in sickness and health part of the vows.”

He continued to murmur assurances that everything was okay, and for the first time in a long while, I found myself believing him. Crying against his neck, I heard his own shed tears onto mine as my hands rubbed circles into his shoulders.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you that day for going to work, even though you asked me and I said it was okay . . And-.”

“Shhh, it’s okay. You don’t have to do that, Becks,” he assures me, pressing a kiss to my head. Again, I believe him, and it feels easier to breathe. Just in the slightest.

“I was such a bitch to you.”

Something sparks inside of my chest at the sound I hear next, one that had been lost along the way. His laugh. His song.

“I’ve been known to be quite the dick on one or two occasions, as well,” I savor the glint that appears in his eyes upon pulling away. It had been one of the first times I was able to lift my head since before all of this had happened, because it had been better just to hide. No, not now.

The quirk to his lips is a full on tilt now, and through them, I’m reminded of what drew me to this man in the first place. It was those eyes and that smile that made me melt upon impact. Well, then there’s the sunshine they share, and how I taste it when his lips meet mine for really the first time in what, a month. Emotion pulls at me from somewhere underneath at the thought, but he makes me forget rather quickly. He’s always been good at that.

His peppermint chapstick sticks to my lips after he’s pulled away several seconds later, trying to catch his breath. The cobwebs have been dusted away in more ways than one, and it feels weird at first, wrong almost, but I laugh. It catches him by surprise too and his eyes focus on me, and only grow brighter.

“I’ve missed kissing you, and laughing with you,” Harry grins, pressing one more to my lips before brushing his nose against mine.

“So have I. I’m s-.”

“I swear, if you say that word one more time,” he tuts, shaking his head with his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to figure out something,” he says, sighing for the dramatic effect. I giggle along with him a moment later, remembering the flecks of gold hidden in his eyes. I remember a lot, too much almost, and the gold is gone as my eyes flood once more. “I know it’s hard, Becks. Something has never been this difficult for me . . for you either. But we have to talk, and I’ve been aching for ages now to talk to you . . I don’t want to ignore it, because they shouldn’t be forgotten. Our daughter. We need to talk about them, about her,” I’m nodding before he can finish, feeling his warm lips against my forehead as I focus on my breaths. “In and out, bug. In and out. We can do this. We’ll start slow.”

I haven’t stopped nodding, but once my lungs start to work again, I pull away and find his eyes once more. It comes to me and I can’t hold it back in anymore, knowing I need to say it first. To tell him.

“Okay, let’s talk about o-our daughter,” I begin, cringing at the sound of my voice breaking already. He nods, cupping my face in his palm, the sweetest of looks on his face.

[rokutouxei]

the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

ikemen vampire: temptation through the dark theo van gogh / mc | T | [ ao3 link in bio ]

The challenge seemed pretty simple: to try to befriend the university bookshop’s most sour employee, Theo van Gogh. As a literature major with a boatload of book recommendations on her back, it ought to be a simple task indeed. But as she uncovers what lies between Theo’s pages, the more she finds it harder to become closer to him without having to put the feeling directly into words. What can she learn from Theo about what it means to stay—and how can she teach Theo about what it means to let go? | written for ikevamp big bang 2020!

[ masterpost for all chapters ]

CHAPTER 9 OF 22

You will let my tender hook Catch the folded darkness inside you, let me occupy The dented place at the base of your throat. - "One Life", Carlomar Arcangel Daoana

--

She wakes up late.

Comically late.

No hangover, thank god—but it’s 11am and she’s dressed in lent pajamas in a bed that isn’t her own. She shoots up to sitting position in a second, and standing in a minute, trudging out the room to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

By the time she’s up and out of the room, a little more awake, Dazai and Arthur have already long gone, the only remnants of their presence the bit of glitter that they had wiped onto the sofa they nestled in.

And text messages.

She squints when she reads it, not because she had a hard time reading what it said, but—because she couldn’t believe what it said.

A series of text messages from Dazai:

[ 7:23 | Dazai ] ur still asleep but ur friend kinda hot

[ 7:24 | Dazai ] ofc I woke up first but his eyelashes tho???

[ 8:32 | Dazai ] pls tell me he’s not a douche bc im rly gonna jump him

[ 9:03 | Dazai ] mgonna jump him

[ 10:19 | Dazai ] abt to find out if he’s got the magnum sized dong u promised

Oh, god, what has she done.

With a groan, she heads down the hallway, phone securely in the pocket of the sweatpants, to see Vincent and Theo preparing a meal in the kitchen; Theo preparing some sort of fillet (fish? Chicken?) and Vincent frying some onions and garlic on the stove, filling the kitchen with a nice aroma.

“Good morning,” she says softly, as she shuffles onto one of the dining table chairs.

“Thought you died,” Theo says with a snort; but once he turns around to face her, all derision goes away in his face and is replaced by a quiet surprise.

Vincent beams as he turns to get the fillets from Theo. (It’s chicken.) “Good morning. Did you sleep well? No headache?”

She shakes her head. “Nope, I’m good. Thanks for letting me sleep here last night and for the clothes.”

“Of course, no problem at all,” Vincent answers, turning back to the pan. The chicken makes a sizzle as it meets the oil.

Theo is still staring at her with an odd look on his face.

“Earth to Theo?” she calls out, waving her hand in front of her. “Something wrong?”

“Broer. Why did you lend her my clothes.”

Oh.

“You know how most my shirts are, paint-stained in all the weird places.”

She feels the cling of the cotton around her skin so differently, so suddenly. Oh.

“She wouldn’t have minded, she was drunk.”

That’s correct, but—

Vincent smiles at Theo, the kind of smile one makes when they can see through someone; she’s filled with a kind of relief at knowing that Vincent can do that to Theo. Maybe the man isn’t an impenetrable a character after all. “No need to be shy, Theo.”

“I am not,” he insists, finally tearing his gaze away from her and heading to the sink to wash the used chopping board and the knife. “I just don’t want her wearing my stuff.”

She smirks. He is shy. True, she didn’t get the opportunity to think about what she was putting on last night because she was so tired and knocked out by the alcohol, but…if that was the price she had to pay to see this side of Theo she doesn’t have the opportunity to witness often, then it was worth it. Oh, the ever put-together Theo, brought to his knees by only one person in the world, the one he trusts the most: his brother.  “Is it because your personality is contagious?” she teases, “wouldn’t want to catch that.”

He answers her with a glare. “Reverse. It’s your stupidity that’s contagious.”

“Oh, we’re pretty much equally as stupid, Theo. No need to worry.”

“We are not,” he says, and then Vincent elbows him carefully.

“You really should be a little gentler to your friends,” Vincent comments, as he turns the fillet onto its other side.

Theo grumbles something unintelligible and it makes her laugh. Sitting in the kitchen, watching the two brothers side by side with their back to her as they prepare—she checks the clock—lunch for the three of them, she hums, content. She’s lived alone for all her life here in the campus, and it was one she looked forward to after living in a house crammed with people for most of her life. But sitting here, watching them share the chores and maybe have a little banter with each other—makes her reconsider that maybe, maybe settling down in even the worst of places isn’t that horrible when you’re in good company.

Theo opens the plate cupboard and hands her a set of it with some cutlery. “Set the table at least, freeloader?” He says, though his voice lacks all the venom his words otherwise had.

Okay, she’ll have to reconsider if Theo counts as “good company.”

--

Theo barely survives lunch with her and his brother because of how much he gets teased by the two. He might argue that this is worse than being stuck with her and Arthur because since it is Vincent, he does not get the leeway to have a comeback, only able to grumble in displeasure at being see-through. They stuff their bellies not only with Vincent’s famed chicken with herbs but also with a hefty amount of laughter.

She slides back (slightly disgusted) into her costume to walk back home in, confident that many other students will be trudging along the streets suffering the same fate. (“Not everyone wakes up as late as you.” “There’s bound to be at least one, right?”) When she comes out of the bathroom, there’s a book on top of his neatly-folded clothes.

They speak at the same time.

“I could wash these first before giving it back if you—” “You had that with you all this time?”

Silence.

She breaks it with a laugh. “Yeah, it was a Saturday. I didn’t want to break the schedule.”

“You get so thorough about the weirdest things,” he comments, but he takes the bundle in her arms anyway. “It’s alright, I’ll have them. Let me get you a book, too.”

She follows Theo into the studio, where he crouches in front of some bookshelves. Vincent peeps from behind his easel. “You should walk her home,” he offers, as Theo pulls a few books out of the shelf.

“No, it’s alright, I’ll be fine! I’m not drunk or dizzy. The walk will help clear my head.”

“It’s twenty minutes out,” Theo points out, getting up.

“Just promise that if you find me asleep on the street you’ll pick me up?”

Handing Murakami’s Dance, Dance, Dance to her, Theo grins. “I can’t promise that.”

“Oh, Theo, you know you will.”

Even when she is long out of his sight, the smile on his face does not go away. Even as the day shifts into mundanity. Even as he’s carting a bagful of clothes to the launderette. Even as he picks up some groceries on the way home. Even as he prepares dinner for Vincent, who is a few hours deep into painting.

Maybe for a moment, it goes away, but—

He thinks of her and the smile comes back full force.

--

She spends the rest of Sunday recovering and hiding away in her room after the very socially draining party, but by Monday she’s hopped onto her bike and headed for the literature club’s little gazebo. She’s left a message for Dazai, asking for company. Sure, they spent quite a lot of time together in the past week, after having jumped through thrift stores and boutiques for the perfect Night Circus costume (and yes, she made him read the book beforehand too, for good measure) but Saturday was quite a day. She’s brought a couple of cookies for sharing with him, sitting at their usual spot, looking out at the quadrangle next to it.

“Toshiko-san! Sorry we kept you waiting!”

The plural takes her off guard, and she turns to find that Dazai has brought a rather distracted-looking Isaac along, his hands in the pockets of his slacks. Isaac is always dressed so well—she supposes it’s part of the uniform or something of being seen as a respectable professor—but she sure does want to see him dress down once. T-shirt, shorts, that kind—Isaac seems to take everything too seriously.

The pleasant feeling of seeing a friend she hasn’t met up with in a long time is quickly replaced by confusion, as the science complex is nowhere near the Arts building. “Nice to see you here, Isaac,” she says, but also with the lilt of a question.

Dazai answers said question. “He’s here because he has nothing better to do, so I asked him to come.”

Isaac makes a face that’s both resignation and panic. “He passed by my office.” –and dragged me out because he wouldn’t take no for an answer, she finishes in her head.

“I see,” she answers, even though that’s not really an explanation in itself.

She knows Isaac through Dazai, and Dazai knows Isaac through a very peculiar class: Occultism 101.

A class team-taught by three major colleges in the university—the College of Arts, the College of Science, and the College of Social Sciences—Occultism 101 is one of the more controversial classes on campus because of its nature. It goes through a long history of the evolution and persistence of supernatural beliefs and practices among nations in the world, in that nice gray area between religion and science. There are only two kinds of students in Occultism 101: those who believe and who are genuinely interested, and those who do not believe and would like to spend an entire semester saying “bah! That’s not true!” to themselves all the time.

Occultism 101 is typically taught by professors from the College of Social Sciences and College of Arts with backgrounds in religious practices and other mystical behavior (whether in history or art), and then occasionally, in the middle of the semester, guest lecturers from the College of Science come in to give lectures on how these “supernatural events” may be explainable through scientific means. Say, how the piping system in a building can cause haunted “cold spots”, or how floating dust particles can come up in a photograph as “orbs”, or the likes.

And she doesn’t want to be very stereotypical about it, but a lot of people in the College of Science are pretty… well, square, and so no one really wants to teach Occultism 101, even if it’s only a few meetings in a semester. This is how this job ends up to unwilling, no-choice Ph.D. students such as Isaac.

It was just his luck that Dazai was in the section he taught.

“So, Osamu, care to tell us about your little date last Sunday?” she asks, as the other two have taken their seats across her. Dazai swoons a little at the mention of Sunday. Isaac looks at him with unsureness.

(Isaac has had the miserable experience of being the victim of Dazai’s flirtation at some point in time. One can see how that has instead simmer into a rather tentative friendship. All is well.)

Dazai rests his elbows on the table and places his chin on the palms of his hands. “He’s so dreamy.”

“No he isn’t,” she swiftly replies, without thought.

But Dazai pretends not to have heard it. “He’s not looking for a serious relationship though,” he adds. “Not that I am, either.”

“You aren’t?”

“No, sweetie,” Dazai explains. “But he’s my type and I’m his type and we couldn’t just leave it at that so I have his number now, and a little… arrangement.”

The word hangs in between them, swaying.

Oh no, that’s not any good. “What arrangement.”

“You don’t need to sound so concerned.”

“This is Arthur we’re talking about,” she insists, and the name makes Isaac flinch a little.

“Doyle, the med student?” Isaac asks, and she turns to him, blinking.

“You know him?” Remembering Arthur during the party, her mouth falls into a small o. “He knows you too, doesn’t he?”

Isaac scoffs. “Who in this university doesn’t?” Arthur’s pretty well-known to be a flirt. Something like having a checklist of bedding at least one person in every department—a rumor that would have been a little more shameful if the rumors also didn’t say how he was so good at it.

She nods. “Well, fair enough.”

“No, no, he’s an absolute sweetheart to me, so it’s definitely a you problem,” Dazai insists. “It’s just a friendship with benefits, yanno?” He emphasizes every of the following syllables with his tone and his hands: “Nice, big, hefty benefits.”

And even Isaac, who usually refrains from commenting no matter how much he has to say, has to quip with “Terrible choice, really.”

And she has to agree. “I respect you, but not your taste, Osamu.”

Dazai grins. “Understandable.” He picks up one of the sandwiches she’s prepared. “You make it sound like I’m the only one making bad decisions though.”

“Excuse me?”

He turns to Isaac. “You should have gone to the Halloween party. She brought her little boy toy.”

She scoffs. “He is not my boy toy.”

“You sure do have him around your finger though, getting in matching costumes and all that,” Dazai says. “Spends Saturdates with him all the time.”

The only strategy that will work in times like these is straight-up ignoring him. “Anyway—” she begins, about to steer the conversation away when Isaac speaks up.

“It’s nice to hear you’re getting close to other people,” he says softly. Isaac has a way of speaking that makes it always seem like he’s spent so much time thinking about what he said before he actually said it; so sometimes it’s hard to gauge if he’s saying it casually or entirely seriously.

So she blinks. “You make it seem like I have no friends, Isaac.”

“I-It’s not that!” he suddenly blurts. Ah, there. There’s the usual Isaac. “You’ve spent so much time focusing on your work lately, it’s nice to know you’re relaxing with other people sometimes.”

And he doesn’t say it, but she sure does hear it: the you haven’t been to the astronomy club in a while and it’s made me worried about you.

She doesn’t go religiously, but she used to attend fairly often to hang out with the other members and just look up at the stars. Isaac tries to organize at least two sessions in a month, one to look at the moon, and another to point at the stars. She hasn’t been able to catch them in a bit.

But then, slowly, as the image of the view outside the astronomy club’s hangout is refreshed in her mind, the way the physics building rooftop is just high enough to provide a good view of the rest of the campus below, the city downtown, just at the right place on campus that at night, the rest of the sprawling town’s streetlights trickle out like golden LED veins through the threes—an idea begins to implant itself into her head.

Taking root immediately.

She likes to go up here to think. She really shouldn’t have had permission to go up there on her own, in her free time, since they have rules about club hours and the likes, but Isaac is a close friend and gave her a spare key, so she can come and go as she pleases. And sure, the Grove is a nice, quiet place for book clubs and maybe doing homework if one doesn’t need an electric socket, but up here in the astronomy club’s “the Rooftop”, she feels like she can float away into the vast ocean of her thoughts and get lost in them for a moment.

She feels small up there. And that’s a good feeling.

She won’t tell it to Isaac’s face but it’s one of the primary reasons why she applied for the astronomy club in the first place. The stars are great no matter how dumb she is at physics, but the view—it’s really something else.

What does the world look like from the point of view of a star? How tiny are human lives in the vast expanse of the universe? How long have these stars been out there, how long will they stay out there, how much longer will they stay in this universe more than we will?

…This is why Theo teases her for being a literature major: all these goddamn metaphors.

And for a split second, she thinks…

Maybe it isn’t that bad to share that same quiet space with him?

…You know, to talk books.

“About that…”

Isaac and Dazai turn to her.

“Mind if I sneak in an outsider to the Roof?” she asks, facing Isaac with genuine hope in her voice.

Isaac only shrugs. “Do as you please,” he says casually, taking a cookie from her little box on the table.

And she grins like he’d just given her the light of the world. “Thank you, Isaac.”

Dazai shakes his head, because he knows she’s got no denying herself out of this one the next time.

[illfoandillfie]

Quiet In The Library 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

Request: Pretty please can you do a quiet in the library part 3 ?? 😁your writing is Top Notch I looovve the way you write roger! Congrats on 1000 followers you deserve them all!!! 💕💕 

Please can u write more about quiet in the library ? This is so fucking good I’m super fan 🥺 maybe reader can be a little cocky for once like teasing him at a show or something then Roger get his revenge visiting her again 🥰 if you don’t feel it that alright, I love ur writing anyway !!! (Probably one of the best at writing smut especially) 

Pairing: 70s!Roger Taylor x Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+), dom!Rog, sub!Reader, public sex, library sex, spanking, unprotected sex, 

Words: 2777

A/N: Written as part of my 1000 follower celebration, I got 2 requests for this one! I’ve been meaning to do a QITL 3 for a while and actually planned to have dom!reader in it but that was before I felt comfortable writing dom!reader and I kept putting it off so maybe I’ll write a QITL 4 at some point 🤷‍♀️

Taglist:  @laedymoon​​​​  @dtfrogertaylor​​​​   @ezmina98​​​​  @vee-ndetta​​​​ @atomic-watermelon​​​​ @kellypenac​​​​ @labessieisallama​​​​ @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr​​​​ @drowseoftaylor​​​​  @hannafuckingsucks​  @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​

When Roger called and invited you to watch him play you were excited for two reasons. Number one, you genuinely enjoyed the music and watching the boys play was always a good time, especially now they’d found a slightly larger audience to play for. And, number two, you felt like you could get a little payback. You’d spent weeks of work unable to think of anything but the ways Roger had used you among the non-fiction shelves. There was a small stain on the carpet in the back row, a lingering souvenir from Roger’s last visit, and every time you saw it you were hit by a flurry of memories and the sudden need to get off. It was only fair for you to give him a taste of his own medicine and after all, this was essentially Roger’s workplace, unconventional is it was. So, with that in mind, you got ready in an outfit that could only be described as the complete opposite of your workwear. There was no room for knee length skirts or smart ponytails. Instead you opted for a short skirt and a plunging neckline. You let your hair down and did your makeup, anything to make Roger hot under the collar. 

They were still setting up when you arrived and headed backstage, but you caught Roger’s eye and blew him a kiss.   “Well look at you. Very different to last time I saw you,” he said as he came over and hugged you in greeting.   “Yes well, that’s what you get for visiting me at work. I told you that was the least sexy outfit I owned.”  “And what does that make this outfit?”  “Well I thought it was definitely one of my sexier options, wouldn’t you say?” you twirled a strand of hair around your finger as you spoke.  “I might go so far as to call it slutty.”  “Bit rude –”  “I said might!”  “But not completely incorrect.”  At that moment Brian walked over, “Rog c’mon we’re- oh Y/N! Hi,”  “Hey Bri,” you gave him a quick hug too, hoping Roger was looking at your short skirt riding up as you pushed yourself onto tiptoes.  “We were just discussing Y/N’s outfit. Seems out sweet little librarian is in the mood to pick up,”  “Thanks Bri for telling him about my job, by the way, so glad he knows now.”  Brian rubbed his neck sheepishly, “Sorry. I was drunk and it slipped out.”  “How’d you even find out? I never told anyone,”  “Saw you there a few months ago. Kept meaning to ask you about it but it always slipped my mind.”  “Yeah well, this one,” you jerked your thumb at Roger, “has been a right shit about it,”  “You love it,” Roger said with a grin, “anyway Bri, what’d you want?”  “Oh shit, yeah. We’ve gotta go get ready. Are you gonna be here after the show?”  “Course she will be. Unless she finds some poor bloke to take home,”  “I’ll be here, front row the whole time. Wouldn’t miss your show for the best lay in the world.”  “That’s cause the best lay’s up there playing,” Roger winked at you and then he and Brian disappeared behind a door leaving you to head out to the crowd and take your spot up front.  

It was useless to try and get Roger’s attention while he played. Between sitting at the back of the stage, his shithouse eyesight, and his complete focus on playing, there was no chance in hell he’d even be able to see you let. Instead you got yourself a drink and settled in to watch the show, chatting occasionally to a excited girl beside you. She’d snuck out for the night just to see them and maybe try to hit on Roger.  You looked her up and down, “Roger is very cute. Shame really,”  “What’s a shame?  “You haven’t heard? Roger’s already got a girlfriend. Hopelessly devoted to her apparently,” you sighed for dramatic effect, “I heard he’s been looking at rings and everything. Shame the rest of us can’t have a shot with him, but at least the other three are still single.”  “Oh,” she looked disappointed but you saw her eyes flick from John to Freddie to Brian and back again as if she were comparing her options, “Thanks for the heads up.” She turned back to the stage, her eyes now glued to the bassist. That was your competition taken care of, although there was bound to be more of them out there. 

As soon as the music stopped you made your way backstage again and latched onto Roger’s arm. For the rest of the night you were basically glued to him, making it very obvious you wanted him. You even went so far as to sit on his lap at one point, intentionally wriggling your arse against his crotch in an attempt to make him hard.  “Thought you wanted to score tonight?” he asked you while the others were distracted, “why’re you hanging round here?”  “Maybe I want something specific, something I don’t think just anyone could give me,”  “Alright love, I know what you’re doing,”  “Other than trying to get you alone?”  “This is a shitty attempt at payback, isn’t it?”  “I don’t know what you mean,” you hoped you didn’t sound too obvious.  “You made it so obvious,” he laughed.  “All I’m trying to do is get laid Rog. I have a late start tomorrow cause I’m on locking up duty and I thought I might have some fun,”  “You think you’re being clever but I’m on to you,”  “Ugh fine. I should have just let that slut from the crowd have you,”  “What slut?”  You waved your hand like you were shooing away a fly, “Just this chick I got talking to. She came here wanting to fuck you but I convinced her to go after Deaky instead. Told her you already had a girl.”  “Are you kidding?”  “Nope,” you laughed, “might have also told her you were looking to propose to your girlfriend.”  “Y/N! Christ you’re going to ruin my chances with every girl that comes to our shows. If that rumour spreads I swear to god.”  “Oh it’ll be fine. There’ll be plenty who don’t care how married you are.”  “Thats not the point! God you’re really in for it now.”  You rolled your eyes and stood up, “Well, I guess I’m gonna go home then since you’ve ruined my fun. I’ll see you next time, say bye to the others for me.” 

The next day work went without a hitch. There was no sign of Roger at all, although you were so busy all day he completely slipped your mind. It wasn’t until you were getting ready to lock up that you remembered his promise to get back at you. You moved to flip the sign on the door to CLOSED and managed to reach it just as Roger pushed it open.  “We’re closed Rog,”  “You talking the library or your legs?” he said as he barged inside.  You stepped out of his way, shutting the door behind him. As soon as you turned away from the door he had you pushed up against the wall, one hand beside your head so he was leaning into your personal space.  “Told you I was going to come back,”  “You did,”  “Was that what you were trying to get last night? Missed being a dirty slut for me and decided to get all dressed up to remind me you’ve got a cunt with my name on it?”  “No, I got all dressed up to try and fuck you in your workplace,”  “Didn’t turn out that way though.”  he dropped his other hand towards your thigh, “lift it up for me.”  Without thinking you grabbed your skirt and pulled it up.  Roger laughed, “I swear you get easier every time I come here. Undo those buttons I wanna see your tits.”  His fingers landed on your pussy and you hurried to do as he asked, letting your skirt fall over his wrist as you pulled each button loose until your shirt was open to your midriff, the bottom of it still tucked into your skirt.  “Good girl,” he said softly, moving both hands to your chest, pushing your shirt aside and teasing your nipples, “but being a slut for me now isn’t going to change last night. You need a lesson in who’s in charge here. Bend over your desk.”  You whined as he tugged your nipples before letting you go and pushing you towards your desk.  

You placed your palms flat on the desk, bent at the waist, and waited.  “No. Down,” he pressed on your back until you buckled, your chest pressed against the smooth surface as your moved your arms to hold onto the opposite edge. There was a rustle of fabric as Roger pushed your skirt up again, exposing your arse to the room.  “You’re already wet,” he didn’t sound surprised. He didn’t touch you, either. It was what you wanted most, just a light touch on your hip even, but he refused, instead running his fingers along the edge of the desk. Over the pamphlets about the Dewey Decimal System, tapping lightly against the jar your pens were standing in, until he came to rest on a book left there earlier. You weren’t sure what it was but it seemed to interest Roger. He picked it up, flipped through a few pages, examined the hard cover, tested how well he could hold it in one hand.   “Keep count,” was the only warning you got before he brought the book down against your arse.  “Shit, one,”  “Speak up. You’re closed remember, no one around to hear you except me.”  “Two,”  “Who’s in charge here?”  “You are Sir. Three,”  He kept spanking you with the book and you kept counting, the sting only getting worse with each one. You hissed through your teeth at a particularly hard smack, trying to remember which number you were up to when you heard a noise outside. A woman’s heels clicking against the concrete pavement.  “I thought you were closed,” Roger said softly, dropping his raised arm, the book falling to cover the bulge in his jeans.  “We are. Fuck Rog, hide,” you stood and tugged your shirt back into place, though there was no hope of getting all the buttons done up. Roger straightened the back of your skirt just as the door was pushed open and a woman wearing the same uniform as you stepped inside.  “Y/N, you’re still here?”  “Just finishing locking up, Kathy, what are you doing back?”  “Oh I just finished the groceries and realised I left my book here,”  “You mean this one?” you took the book from Roger, stepping in front of him in the hopes Kathy wouldn’t notice his dilemma, “I wondered who it belonged to. Lucky I didn’t chuck it in with the rest of the returns,”  “Y/N, who’s this?”  “I’m Roger,” he said sticking out his hand from behind you. You could have hit him as you tried to remember which hand he’d used to touch your pussy.   “He’s a friend of mine.”  “Was in the area and thought I’d off Y/N a lift home since it’s already dark out.”  “Well that’s nice of you,” Kathy’s eyes flicked from your unbuttoned and ruffled shirt to Roger, half standing behind you, to you flushed cheeks to the book she was holding, “At work Y/N? Kinky. Just don’t leave any stains or anything.”  “I don’t know what you mean Kathy,”  “Mmhmm, you can explain it to me tomorrow then, I’ll leave you to it.” She left with a last look at Roger and a chuckle.  

As soon as the door was shut behind her you turned around and slapped Roger’s shoulder, “you knob! Louder there's no one to hear but me,” your shitty imitation of his voice made Roger laugh, “almost got caught with my arse out.”  “Well at least you still had knickers on.”  “Gee thanks. Kathy totally knew what was going on though, and now she’s going to badger me for details and I’m going to have to make her swear not to tell anyone.”  “Geeze you’re secretive. So what if she knows?”  “So what? I don’t want my co-workers to know about my sex life thanks. Especially not about us having sex here. I hope your happy,”  “Not really. In case you didn’t realise I’ve got this boner that needs taking care of.”  “Even after nearly getting caught?”  “Love, nearly getting caught only made it harder.”  “Jesus,”  Roger laughed, “oh c’mon, don’t act like you weren’t turned on by it too. Remember when you gave me head and the person was on the other side of the shelves?”  “Vividly,”  “I bet you do. I bet you think about it while you finger yourself. Maybe think about that person coming round the shelf and watching while I fucked your throat,” he backed you up against the desk as he spoke, the edge of it pressing into your arse as he pressed his hard-on into your thigh.  You whimpered, unable to resist his demanding tone.   “You want me to fuck you?”  “Please,”  “Hop up on the desk for me. Gonna fuck you right here where you sit every day. Where your co-workers sit Where your boss sits.” His hands were on your waist as you wriggled back onto the desk, “I know how blushy and wet you get from being in the back rows where I’ve used you before. But those places are too easy to avoid. I want you to think about what I do to you from the moment you get to work to the moment you leave. I want my cock to be on your mind constantly. I want to be able to walk in here and know that you’re already wet for me.” Once more he pushed your skirt up, exposing you completely when he impatiently tugged your underwear off, “I want you to sit down in the morning and remember how good it feels,” he quickly undid his fly and pushed his pants down, “to be full,” he dragged his cock along your folds making your breath hitch, “of me.”  You let out a squeaky, “oh!” as he entered you, one hand slipping behind your back to hold you up as his other grabbed your leg. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hooked your ankle around him as best you could when he pulled back and sank into you again.   “Fuck,” you whined as he thrust into you again.  “Louder.”  You shook you head, trying not to moan.  “C’mon, I know you want to. It’s your one chance to be loud here, not going to waste it are you?”  “Rog,”  “Louder. Want you loud enough to draw a fucking crowd.”  You gave in, moaning wantonly as he fucked you harder.  “That’s it, let everyone hear what a whore you are,” he was panting, “rub your clit.”  Your breath hitched as you followed his direction and found your clit, circling it with your thumb. You could feel the pressure building, only strengthened as Roger leaned into your neck and began sucking at your skin. A string of moans and whined expletives tumbled from your lips and you weren’t sure you’d have been able to turn the volume down even if Roger had demanded it. All you could do was cry out as you hit your release. Roger continued to pound into you, half to keep your high going and half to reach his own. Even as your orgasm subsided, leaving you with a few lingering aftershocks and a heightened sensitivity, he kept going, his breath coming in rough pants. It took you whining his name for him to finally cum, biting down on your throat. 

“Jesus Rog,” you said softly when he finally let you hop off the desk, “what are you, a fucking vampire?”  “God could you imagine how hot I’d be?”  “Alright Dracula, calm down. Can you hand me those tissues over there?”  “How come?”  “So I can clean up the mess we’ve made,” you pointed at the desk where a small puddle of evidence remained.  “What do you have to do before you’re finished closing up?”  “Umm, make sure the windows are shut and back room is locked. Then I’ve just gotta get the lights and lock the front door. Tissues?” you impatiently stuck out your hand.  “You don’t need tissues because you’re going to lick it up like a good little slut. And then, if you’re lucky, I’ll take you back to mine and make you beg for more.” 

[tfw-no-tennis]

mtmte liveblog issues 4&5

its delphi time babey

I'm sorry but drift & co look like such fuckin nerds on their scooter things on the cover lmaooo

oh god. seeing the first page just reminded me of how horribly confused i was for this whole little arc the first time i read it. i was like ok, who are all these new characters, and also why does everyone look so similar

anyways now i now what's going on. i love first aid

love the running continuity of rung being the literal only psychologist on cybertron (except for fr*id but that's later). no wonder everyone's fucked up they all have to share a single therapist 

ok i find it extremely funny that first aid was demoted from doctor to nurse, as if that's a thing that happens EVER - I mean it'd be one thing if first aid was a nurse practitioner (which i doubt is a position that exists here), at least that demotion would make sense, but like...the doctors i work with don't know how to do most nurse stuff (like BP, cathing, vaccinations, hell even using some of the thermometers - that's all stuff nurses/etc do), so demoting one to a nurse would be a disaster (just like promoting a really good nurse to a doctor would be a bad idea). anyways i know I'm being pedantic but it Be like that when you work in the medical field and read something that has medicine-related stuff in it

i love swerve giving ratchet the tiniest free drink ever lmaooo

is that skids being a rowdy drunk in the bg lmaoooo

unironically i love medical statistics. keep it comin

i love magnus’s giant sternal chestpiece thing. its like a bird’s sternum but without the massive pec muscles attached 

i love magnus and rodimus’s dynamic so much

oh pipes....im so sorry but this fun space adventure is going to be not so much fun for you

ratchets ideologies are certainly interesting, and i liked seeing how they changed over the course of the story

drift: why would i be SCARED of the DJD, I've got a SWORD, two swords even,

hvbhajkhfbsdjkf pipes really said ‘oi, you two - what's this, then?’ that's the most british fucking thing, that's literally something i say when I'm doing an overexaggerated british accent, oh my god,

PIPES IS SUCH A TINY DUMBASS. ILY SIR BUT WHAT ARE YOU DOING

aaaand now you're covered in dead bodies, pipes. look at your life, look at your choices

drift epic sword moments

drift confirmed for the kinda weird guy who has katanas that he uses to like, cut up fruit and water bottles in his backyard while rodimus films him

‘i thought i heard...bickering’ lmaooooo

ah, so its covid

this arc is how i feel working in healthcare lmaooo especially now that i probably have covid 

so rewind condensed the entire war into an 11 second long cringe compilation. nice

seeing the mechanical stuff past tailgate’s visor is so cool

poor tailgate, this guy is getting slammed with history from multiple sides. and like, bias is inevitable in ANY sort of recounting of events, especially controversial historical events, so poor tg just kinda has to take it all in and decide who to listen to 

that’s...not really how immunity works, guys. also, you shouldn't be exposed to so much disease with proper ppe usage

is there even such thing as ppe in the transformers universe?? there are fluid- and contact-transmitted illnesses, so there SHOULD be

is there even OSHA in this universe??????? unbelievable 

first aid, holding a giant fucking claw clamp: we haven't tried EVERYTHING............

first aid read a human wikihow article on how to jumpstart a car and took notes 

i love tailgate’s ‘mom says its my turn on the xbox’ pose 

tailgate has a point - he’s from pre-war times, where things weren't as grey so of course he would try to divide the two sides into ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’

CYCLONUS BE NICE DONT HIT UR FUTURE HUSBAND

go get some character development and then maybe you'll feel better

seeing the word quarantine is making me twitchy w/my possible month-long complete isolation quarantine on the horizon

drift pulling his swords on pipes and ratchet pushing down drift’s arms...lmao

poor pipes...even tho this is completely his fault, its still rough

also jesus, pharma and ratchet look so goddamn similar, reading this was so confusing the first time around 

drifts idea of subduing pipes involves turning into a cool car and also posing with his sword

also. never gonna be over drift’s massive thighs. jesus man

ooof now drift has the rona. ouch 

poor drift, his covid realization is getting overshadowed by pharma being flung around

first aid bustin thru w/the epic medical nipple clamps and some Big Boi Backup

ok that's an epic pre-beatdown speech from fort max right there, daym 

im just gonna continue on w/issue 5 now for continuity’s sake. yay!

the cover of tailgate in magnus’s autobot school is so cute

and we open with an incredible shot of fort max str8 up ripping a guy in half. i mean, to be fair, he DID just give an epic speech about how much he was gonna do that, and he certainly followed thru

yeahhhhh, fort max is not doing so well atm

when he puts that dudes head in his chest vent thing and then snaps it shut....man 

also i fucking LOVE when their faces are shaded all in black w/only the eyes/mouth fully drawn...fantastic stuff

ratchet: phew i am not equipped to deal w/this level of Fucked Up Mental Trauma. u good m8?

ratchet is already writing up a referral to rung for fort max as this is happening

drift is just laying on the ground dying like, oh hey yeahh I'm still here too 

i fucking love when punctuation is drawn in story - like here where first aid has a little ? over his head....fav

ratchet holding drifts hand ;_; 

ok tbh ambulon having switched sides 10 yrs ago is wild bc like, 10 years is barely any time for these guys, especially in a war that lasted 4 million years. that would be like a human switching sides in a war like, 3 months before it ends. probably. i sense some math bs, I'm just extrapolating here

all that mexican standoff shit is going down and first aid is just like But That's None Of My Business

ah so ambulon is an asymptomatic carrier 

and there's first aid with the save! iconic

pharma calling ratchet ‘buddy’ hbvakjdsbfhkasdf

ooooh i love that they figured it out - and i love that twist, that transforming is what triggers the start of symptoms. remember when drift turned into a cool car? yep

s/o to Ambulon Transformers for helping me in my medical terminology courses, bc now ill always remember: Leg(tm)

also this explanation makes a ton more sense (in universe, at least) than the whole ‘i guess we as medical staff have been exposed to enough Germz that we’re more immune to this or something’ theory 

ah, i love the meaningless (to me) alien robot medical jargon 

drift and ratchet hhhhhhhhh

‘I'm too wide’ fort max L O R G E

also once again drift is forgotten in favor of a bunch of other dramatic stuff happening vbhjksdfbjhskdf

godddd i love tailgates little flashbacks where we see how Important and Special he is, complete with his ‘bomb disposal’ arm label...augh its so good! 

and tailgate’s autopedia page even reflects his lies! like, did tailgate go edit that first thing upon waking up??? seriously, I'm fascinated by tailgate’s meticulous dedication to his fake life

also the fact that ultra magnus believes everything he read on autopedia is amazing lmao

ultra magnus: you think somebody would just go on the internet and tell lies? 

fuckgin love magnus’s long ass name/title placard 

tailgate hvbahjkdfbjhaskf i mean, he’s gotten the abridged version of everything else, of course he would assume that’d be the case here too...but not on magnus’s watch

magnus cant even say ‘fun’ hvukdasdbjfkjsadf i love my uptight law dad

love rung implying that upon questioning, he would easily divulge a patient’s name and maybe even information about said patient’s treatment while under him....love the disregard for patient confidentiality and hipaa in general 

not that hipaa seems to exist here, at least not in a fully realized form 

also i mean the above genuinely, i think rung’s tendency towards at least slight malpractice is very interesting 

poor red alert....super bad luck that HE was the guy to get roped up in that overlord business 

I'm glad that, at the very least, red alert was able to prove that he was Actually hearing something to rung, rather than get brushed off completely 

god magnus and tailgate’s interactions are golden 

also tg is much more sarcastic/quippy than anyone gives him credit for tbh

‘thought warfare,’ ultra magnus says with complete seriousness. god i fucking love this comic

now i can tell pharma apart from ratchet bc pharma has let his true Petty Bitch nature emerge and you can see it in his expressions

the whole ‘tarn is addicted to transforming’ thing didn't really go anywhere, right? i feel like i noticed that on my second readthru as well 

also pharma is such an interesting character given the context of him like, trying to strike a bargain w/the djd to keep them from destroying delphi, but that arrangement inevitably kinda making him lose it as the situation escalates. he’s also just really entertaining bc i feel like he kins the joker or st and probably gets into really heated arguments w/people on twitter about just abt anything

‘sound bomb’ i love this comic

another important facet of pharma’s character becomes clear around this time as well - how he’s really into ratchet. i also choose to read them as awful exes tbh, it makes their dynamic even more entertaining

‘killmaster, with the wand’ is one of my favorite running remarks lmao

also, was killmaster even a character before mtmte? or, if he was, was he an important one? it would crack me up the most if he literally didn't exist at all, but any way you spin it is still funny 

ratchet’s tiny humansona facing off against pharma is wild

‘I'm miles from anyone i truly care about’ brutal, ratchet, drift is dying like 2 floors away (im p sure)

SUDDENLY DRIFT IS HERE, ACTUALLY 

oh don't worry first aid, that sure isn't the last we’ll be seeing of pharma 

so like, did first aid save everyone by posting that data log to his wreckers fan blog or something? lmao love it 

i love the pretty fucked up reveal of ratchet having stolen pharma’s hands. like, damn dude. 

and that wraps up the delphi arc! our first true ‘arc’ of mtmte, and a fantastic one at that. short and snappy and fresh, with some very clever writing and cool new characters, and a lot of great plot threads to be picked up later. plus, we got to see the beginnings of drift and ratchet’s whole thing (and ratchet and pharmas whole thing). and the lost light gets some much needed extra medical staff, so everyone wins! 

well, we’ll see how fort max feels about this all pretty soon.....

[tordenvejr]

hey vic. my name’s ezra. im really going through it and was wondering if i could have a tarot reading. it doesn’t have to be right now as i know ur takin a break from advice asks ! jst figured i’d ask while i was thinking about it so i wouldn’t forget. it’s also ok if u can’t tho! love u. wishing you well

🧡🧡🧡 hi ezra! i did your reading! love u and i wish a lot of healing on u 💓✨

also hi sorry this is ezra again, what’s ur paypal info for the readings? im on mobile n scrolled for a long time but couldn’t find it !

paypal.me/vicmarkmann 💛

i asked my guides to connect to yours and see what messages there are for you 💓

what would be uplifting for ezra to know?

page of cups, "we are with you. when you feel a sudden relief or sudden warmth or joy even for a moment, that is us. even when you feel like we've left, we hold you and we love you, and we are so proud of you. you are more beautiful of a soul than you know. when you feel lost we see your magnificence, we know the mastery your soul holds and the love that is deep and broad and the true nature of your being." i get a feeling of fondness and pride in my heart when i look at this card and i fill up with love, they just want you to know that they are with you. you're allowed to ask for more help too, there's no limit to the guidance or the healing you can request, it is their joy and your souls agreement that they be there for you and aid and love you.

message for ezra

page of pentacles, your body needs rest because you are integrating a lot of newness, let it rest, listen to what it needs (silence, doing nothing, walking, what movies pop up in the back of your head like a little voice that says: "this would be a good idea to watch" watch that, do that) and when energy comes direct it to what nourishes you, what excites you. the best compass out of a funk is very often excitement, even if it's a faint one at first.

what does ezra need?

the tower, to remember that when the structure around us crumbles it makes space for the new wonders to be build. and often this is a necessary thing when what gifts lie ahead of you are too grand and expansive to share the space with the old. it is startling and nerve wrecking to see the familiar fall away or see that it no longer works, but it helps to know that it's because you're meant for something more beautiful and fulfilling to take its place, and that you're making space for it. hierophant and page of swords for clarification, you do not need to figure the path out for yourself, let it be revealed to you. ask your guides for guidance and follow your interest, your excitement like i mentioned before, let that be your compass. if it gives you energy, give your energy to it. 💓 strength, you need to look at yourself with compassion and you need, when you are able (and oh you are deeply loved when you cannot muster it as well), to focus on what gives life to you, you must begin to collect the things of happiness in your life and amplify your attention to them.

what can ezra do to ease their hardship?

temperance, meaning keeps coming up, look for meaning. when there is a perspective or an emotion, a state of mind, that brings you clarity, then let it dictate your perspective. and as hard as it is, be patient. it is difficult when we are hurting, but when we're patient with our pain it tends to ease and when we're patient with our surroundings they tend to change. the star, is the hope that follows the collapse of the tower. this is the new life we sometimes have to make space for, and the joy that will not exist parallel to a tower with a skeleton that brings us reoccurring harm - so it has to fall. this is a message of hope, this is the star dancing down to smile at you gently and cup your face as she tells you everything will be wonderful. everything will be okay.

what does ezra need to remember about themselves?

the world, you are everything. you are perfect, you were handcrafted by the divine to be exactly as you are and if there is somewhere that you do not feel happy in it is because you are meant to find your happiness somewhere else. if there is something you do not like to do or that you feel you are not good at it's because there is something else you're wonderful at and the universe didn't want you to be distracted by what isn't meant for you. you being born is creation celebrating itself.

last message for ezra

queen of wands, remind your heart of courage and let it know that it's okay when it can't find it, tell it you love it regardless. and know that your angels, your guides love it always. they know everything there is to know about you and they adore you. the last message from your guides is that you bring joy to the world around you, more than you know, and when you feel there is none in you. the world is in teary gratitude and love for you being in it and i hope you can really take that in because i'm almost tearing up writing it, it is that truthful.

[casually-inlove]

aah i agree im vry disappointed in this chapter ! like its good like usual, but its kind of a let down after the last 5 chapters... ht rly exposed himself minutes before, and comedy aside, MGS answered him by ignoring him, and then saying "were not friends, were not as close as you think we are". it must have been hurtful for HT, its basically a rejection of recognizing HT vulnerabilities. and its totally In character for MGS to say this, so im not disappointed by it 1/?

i mean HT lay his heart down for Mo to see and theyve known each other for 15 DAYS, its too soon for anybody and especially for Mo who have mistrust problems to respond in the same way ? so running away and deflecting the declaration is cool, i wasnt excepting a "ill never abandon u!!" lol. but then HT being cool with this rejection and having a slapstick comedy just after doesnt feel right. mb show HT swallowing and being disheartened, and then put his usual facade and only then have comedy 2/?

would have been good, bc we would have known "oh ht is actually hurt by MGS reaction but doesnt know how to say it, so he plays it cool and change the subject bc hes still not at ease with being vulnerable". a realistic situation would have been "ht tried to be vulnerable but it was too soon, too much for mo who rejected him, so it confirmed ht biased thinking that showing vulnerabilities is bad and it will prevent ht to be vulnerable in front of someone in the near future". 3/?

i mean it could have been a nice although sad conclusion for this mini-arc, especially since ht have been grieving (?) his mother just this morning. a little step back, and then smth else happen and cause ht to crack completely but then mo is able to respond present and its a step forward. ok im daydreaming but that would have been climatic lol. instead this..ah i dont know i feel cheated, i know its ox' work but still haha ! like when they do an abrupt change of scene after an emotional page 4/

its a trick ox use often and after 300 chapters it feels old n cheap. when u engage in a emotional scene, u cant just do "oops i change my mind!!" and put slapstick comedy or ignore totally what just happened and dont have a progression. u have to stay on this road : u cant put traumatizing backgrounds and mafia affairs and mature problems (kidnapping, mother being threatening into prostitution,etc) n just.. not stick with it and making ur characters not traumatized by it and just 'lol comedy'.

sry im kind of monopolizing ur askbox lol, i guess im kind of frustrated ! it just the last chapters were so good and it was a while since ox use this cheap trick of not going through an emotional scene that i kind of forgot how terrible they were at handling transition between drama and comedy. theyre a good artist all in all (or i wouldnt be this disappointed!!), but they have this failing in their writing an it drives me nuts each time lmao. haa i hope next chapter will be better...5/5

Hell yeah, DEFINITELY, that sums up my thoughts. Also, you don't have to apologize, it was an interesting read and I can tell that you feel strongly about it. While I can’t say that I’m flat-out disappointed, as I wrote in my original post, I’m definitely feeling lukewarm and indifferent about the recent ch.

OX touched upon a few serious matters a couple of chapters before: namely She Li’s fucked up goading and the way it unsettled He Tian -- unsettled in no joking manner as follows from his reaction. Then we get He Tian swearing to beat up anyone who dares bully Mo, and the whole profound monologue from the previous chapter. Just as you say, He Tian truly laid himself bare there. One could argue that He Tian listed the reasons he was enamoured with Mo, or one could argue that he subtly commented on the milieu he grew up in, or one can even read it as He Tian admitting/reflecting on his flaws out loud. There are many ways to construe this scene, each of them is extremely meaningful. Not to mention it took HT visible effort to say these things out loud.

The problem which both you and I noticed is that OX left this mini-arc/mini-subplot unresolved. Instead, they abruptly switched to comedic relief. Much like you, I wasn’t expecting a big reaction from Mo -- no grand verbal declarations at very least. What I expected was a panel (maybe a close up of Mo’s face as I mentioned in my original post) that indicated he actually HEARD what HT told him, that it gave Mo some food for thought. 

As you mention, Mo getting disconcerted and doing the tsun-tsun escape is fairly in character for him. Still, a panel like this would have been very welcome to emphasize his confusion and to justify him not gracing the other boy with an answer, ignoring HT showing his underbelly (which is something that doesn't come easy for him, as we readers know). Okay, sure, OX handled it differently this chapter -- we get Mo silently running away and blurting out the first comeback he could think of. No problem. It works to show that HT’s words had an effect on him, albeit it’s much less pronounced, than, say, the Aquarium scene -- again one would have to wonder why: HT’s “don’t abandon me” is just as strong, if not stronger, than “I’m afraid you’ll forget me”, so it follows that Mo should have been just as affected.

The problem is the way an emotionally charged moment quickly fizzled out into comedy. As you said, Mo blurting out “we are not friends, we are not familiar enough, so I don’t care what you think (of me)!” SHOULD have hit HT harder. Just minutes before we had HT being genuinely disturbed by the idea of someone looking to intentionally hurt Mo, seeking physical comfort, being disquieted by the idea of getting abandoned and losing someone he likes, confessing that he admires the other boy -- yet when Mo utters yet another curt rejection of sorts, we are not shown HT’s reaction, which, logically, should have been there. 

And all of that emotional build-up is cheapened by an accidental dick slap comedy. 

Indeed, showing HT being hurt (disquieted? deflated?) and then putting on a cool guy mask, and ONLY then switching to a slapstick humour would have been more appropriate. It wouldn’t have taken a big or an overly dramatic scene either -- just, IDK, show HT’s eyes widening, or his throat clicking, or his posture slumping, anything to indicate that Mo’s words affected him -- that the whole thing mattered to him. Otherwise, it leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth: “so Imma confess to the person I like and swear to protect them and beg them to put up with me -- oh! forget anything serious that I said, Imma touch some dick now”. While I don't have an issue with comedy coming into focus again, I do wish it hadn't been this abrupt. Had there been a better transition between these scenes, there wouldn't be this "lol jk" vibe that I’m getting.

So yeah, I, too, feel a little cheated. OX certainly has an issue with drama-comedy transitions, which are sort of hit-and-miss for me. Sometimes they work well to alleviate the grave mood, other times they appear to be out of place. The recent chapter is the latter case. Dangling a possibility of climatic resolution for the subplot and then intentionally subverting it just doesn’t work in favour of the plot here. It cheapened the emotional part and made the comedy feel much less fun for me. Of course, no one says that writing is an easy task. Plenty of mangakas, for instance, work with writers to strengthen their script and plots, so it’s challenging when a single person is responsible for both drawing and planning the story. OX is undoubtedly doing a tremendous job. Still, I wish they wouldn’t stick to using the old trick this monastically because it's becoming a trite writing device and works against them on occasion. It’s totally fine to keep the comic light-hearted yet it’s not good to ignore the needed dramatic development.

[mikeshanlon]

iwwv anon and PHEW OK. I def did not expect that essay and now I feel bad cause I KNOW my thots r not gonna be articulate or right. nonetheless! i think Oliver does qualify as an unreliable narrator cause hes. very oblivious but not like... Richard papen (who is a whole ass clown don't get me started on tsh) but not like addy from dare me(I will support till the day I die that dare me is da like I WILL die on this hill) who sees what she wants to see. 1/?

i think he just... thinks that his friends r diff ppl than they actually r? that doesnt rly make sense but yea. what I mean is that everything the characters do is coated in that empathetic view Oliver has which is usually wrong? so we don't get an objective look into the characters. meredith is my girl like I love the hot popular girl trope deconstruction but at the end of the book she's not at a great place like she's w someone that doesn't love her like she needs to be loved... 2/

I guess the most probable ending is that James never meets Oliver again and that everyone is kinda stuck on what happened but that's soo sad and I really don't want to think abt it. ngl iwwv wasn't like my fave book ever and I really don't understand why people are so obsessed with dark academia sometimes but what i rly liked abt the book is that despite how fucked up everyone is and how toxic they r to each other they do at heart care abt one another...3/

like I rly liked that esp cause at that point the only other da book (other than dare me!) that I had read was tsh and godd every character is so fuckinh annoying and they all hate each other. i was super confused by it till I saw someone saying that it's satire and I felt my mind explode. I feel like this is so long but I didnt rly properly answer all you wrote sorry! I think its a pretty good book tho it has some crazy quotes like hold awn Im gonna look at the highlighted stuff on my copy.. 4/

Were you in love with him?” “Yes,” [...]Yes, I was.” It’s not the whole truth. The whole truth is, I’m in love with him still. LIKEEE PHEWW OK OK OK. WE OUT HERE. that line literally made me go crazy. I'm so sorry for any spelling mistakes or like general mistakes I made here English isn't my first language, it's 1am and I wrote this in the notes app w/o looking it over. so like.. NOT a professional review lemme tell you. 5/5

 Ahh im so sorry I did not see this before I yeeted for a month!!!

Oooh okay first of all dare me as a DA… I’ve only watched the show but like yeah I see the Elements for sure.

Also yeah I can understand what you mean abt Oliver being an unreliable narrator now… Ig my view of unreliable was more like they are purposefully twisting the truth or omitting facts or just literally don’t know shit but I get how personal bias can make the narrator unreliable. I do think the assertion that Oliver thinks his friends are different than they actually are makes sense. He sees James in a very positive light and though I like James a lot and think he is better than, like, Richard, he definitely has darker moments and manipulates Oliver at times (again I’d like to think it’s not the most nefarious thing in the world but like him just being shitty bc he’s in a dark place and he one, wants to do anything he can so Oliver doesn’t figure out he fought Richard so Oliver still thinks of him the same way/bc he knows Oliver would do something stupid like get himself arrested for James; and two, is very jealous that Oliver is with Meredith after Richard dies and has sort of a somewhat positive outcome from Richard’s death versus James being riddled with guilt and anger). And yeah, the probable ending is they never meet but I refuse to acknowledge that so LGNRG. Also that line makes me go CRAZZZZZZZZZZY!!! There are so many great lines, both using Shakespeare and on their own and its like okay give me a moment im going bonkers…

Personally, I haven’t read that many dark academia novels yet (bc for some reason i can barely finish a book rn sigh) but the concept interests me. I think what’s compelling is the setting/atmosphere of like ~mysterious college vibes~, and the idea of a sort of niche, obsessive bond and pursuit of knowledge with a tight knit group of friends (and the like inherent homoeroticism in every single DA elrngenrg). Like Dead Poet’s Society (the film I haven’t read the book) isn’t Dark in the same way most other dark academia is by like, obsession and death and manipulation (though of course there are dark elements with Neil’s storyline), but I think the other building blocks of academia are present there in a more wholesome way and you can see why people are drawn to that idea. As for the more Dark aspects I think it’s interesting to analyze things like group psyche, obsession, manipulation, etc, like what went wrong for everything to take such a dark turn???

 But, like everything else, it really has to be done well or else its just like okay….… I’ve tried to read TSH twice and I may try again but from the 100+ ish pages I read I totally get what you mean. IWWV is so interesting to me bc the characters are all very compelling and multifaceted and I like that they are a close friendship, we come in after 4 years of them spending all the time together and to me that is apparent. Like you said, we can see fissures and problems especially as the novel continues but there is care there between them. That also makes the decision to let Richard die much more interesting and sinister imo, as well as how all of them interact with each other after he dies, and how the roles of the group change without their “leader” so to speak. Also, maybe it’s just bc I like Shakespeare, but I think the academia part of IWWV is so much more accessible compared to TSH. Like I don’t know every Shakespeare play or anything so I didn’t understand every nuance or was like immediately like oh this is from Cymbeline or whatever the fuck, but you could understand the gist of things and it made sense that they spoke in Shakespeare lines bc that’s all they’ve been doing for four years and also theatre kids are Like That. Their pretention also provided any Layers to the story, like the parallels between the characters they play and their own arcs, how some of the lines echoed their own thots, foreshadowed, or they were able to say things through Shakespeare (I’m thinking of like, Oliver realized he loved James during Romeo and Juliet, the foreshadowing that James was going to ruin Richard’s life and that he dislikes Meredith/Richard when he quotes Mercutio at the start “A plague o’ both your houses”, the exchange Oliver and James had onstage and had that kiss during King Lear before Oliver was arrested,etc.) (Also I think the structure of some of the dialogue being formatted like a play really helped make it feel more realistic and immersive). Versus TSH which is just so pedantic and dense and hard to follow at times im like I get they are smart but what??? And maybe that’s part of the satire aspect (or maybe im dumb) but like donna I read TGF I know you are pretentious and info dump abt random obscure shit anyways so erglknerg. Like to me there was a Point to all of the academic Shakespeare stuff in IWWV and it was the soul of the book, and M.L. Rio made it very interesting—like the way that the directors reimagined the plays and had Julius Caesar be like a modern political play, the cool mirror shit in King Lear, the Macbeth and Romeo and Juliet performances where they did them at events and interacted with their environments (which were one of my favorite parts of the books bc I just think that concept is so interesting), etc. For TSH the shit they did literally just felt like “okay look at them they’re smart see you can’t even keep up!” like okay… I felt lost a lot and only like snapped into reality whenever Henry (?) was like oh… murder….. and even then I was like idk what this dude is saying but like he’s being darksided LMAO. And I also agree that it’s just like… Richard being thrown in the middle of this group could lend itself to some cool ideas but its hard to believe that he fits into the friendship group and hes just like hell yeah I love Greek so much and lets go kill this guy other than like okay ur gay and stupid and just want to impress Henry or whatever his name was (which he was but I digress). It’s just not as impactful to me as this close friend group falling apart. Ik TSH fans might be angry if they see this (and of course I haven’t finished the book so my perception may be warped but I also kno many ppl felt that way u did) bc I’ve seen ppl say IWWV is just like TSH but “lackluster” or whatever and while I can see some parallels (mostly b/w Richard and Henry and Alexander and Francis), I really think M.L. Rio expanded upon common DA tropes and the interesting parts of TSH but made it her own and interesting and oh yeah there are actually multiple compelling female characters and LGBT characters (and no incest)!!!